"Finch, we need black raspberries," Katniss stated, while we were walking towards our cottage. "Ours aren't ripe enough."
"Why can't you get them?" I asked.
"I have to start dinner." She explained. "Please, just go to the Hob and get them from May."
"Fine." I said, slightly annoyed. "I'll see you later." I started to trudge out of the woods, and towards the Hob. I could have started roasting the squirrels. She knows May better than me. Then again, I know plants better than her. I arrived at the door and opened it. I scanned the place and walked in, looking for May. I spotted her with a trader. He was a male, with dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and pale skin. For a moment I wondered who this young male was, but after quickly analyzing him, my eyes widened. I froze.
This was Marvel. District one. Seventy-forth Annual Hunger Games. Nine in training. Career. An unstable, spear-throwing maniac. Supposedly dead. I stared him up and down, confirming my answer. Maybe I was hallucinating. Yes, that was it. I slowly made my way to May's trading table. Marvel (maybe) was trading a small bag of blueberries for three spearheads.
"Hello, Finch." May said in her singsong voice. I gave a small wave. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Marvel (maybe) in shock. I tried to make it seem like I didn't notice him staring at me. I probably failed.
"What would a small bundle of black raspberries cost?" I asked awkwardly.
"It depends on what you have." May answered airily. I reached into my bag and took out a bunch of fishhooks, and a three-foot coil of snare rope.
"I'll take the rope." May said. She turned around to get the raspberries.
"So you won?" Marvel asked, out of breath.
"With the girl from twelve," I murmured. "Katniss."
"The girl who shot me with an arrow?"
"How are you alive?" I asked sternly. "Tell me."
"Not here. In the woods. Tomorrow. Without Katniss." Marvel proposed. I nodded. "Bye May!" He said, and turned on his heel. He walked away. May turned around with the raspberries in hand. "Goodbye Marvel!" She whisper-shouted. I handed the rope to her as she gave me the berries. "Nice seeing you." I said, and began to walk to the cottage.
The next day I searched for Marvel in the woods.
"That idiotic adolescent better reveal himself." I murmured. And coincidentally, I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder. I immediately flinched and turned around, knife in hand. He looked surprised, as if he didn't know what I was capable of doing.
"Whoa," Marvel said. He held his hands up in innocence. "Calm down."
"Well, then, don't interrupt me when I'm in deep thought," I spat sourly. "Now, tell me how you're alive." He gestured to a log by the river. We both walked over and sat down.
"You're smart, tell me the anatomy of the Tracker device." Marvel ordered.
I spoke from memory. "The Tracker device comes in sacks, and spreads to the main parts of your body. The arms, legs, torso, and neck. When the weapon penetrates your body, it penetrates one of the sacks, and the flesh. Point is, it is physically impossible to survive that." I explained.
"But you see, the arrow only penetrated the sack, not the flesh," Marvel smirked. "Because of the type of chemicals in it, I went into a coma."
My eyes widened in shock.
"I was sent to the Capital, them thinking I was dead because of the destroyed sack. I didn't become a mutation because of… Well… My older sister, Grace. She kept me hidden."
"Why was she in the Capital?" I asked.
"She tried to run away, escape the district. She became an Avox and was sent to the Capital. I woke up after the war. She sent me to May, who explained everything. So, yeah," Marvel explained. "Any questions?"
I nodded. "Are you okay?"
He sighed and looked at the running water. "No. I have flashbacks all the time, of the games."
"I do too… Seeing others dead, and in the end realizing twenty-two other teenagers have died," I said shyly. "It'll get better, trust me." I teared up. I clasped my hands together, embarrassed of showing emotion to him. I sniffled softly, hoping Marvel wouldn't hear me.
"It's alright…. It's okay." He rubbed my back soothingly, trying to calm me down.
Pull yourself together, Finch, I told myself. I looked at him, and he was looking into my eyes. I blinked and looked away. Tears threatened to pour down my face. To get away from showing emotion to Marvel, I got up and said, "I'll see you tomorrow. At this exact spot."
And I ran away, crying. Oh God.