Finnick

It was the night of the District 4 celebration for my homecoming. I wasn't the first victor from our district by the sea, for sure—being a part of the Career pack every year made certain that our victor pool was vast—but I had very little competition for the best looking.

I was fourteen, an age most people think is way too young to know what love is. And maybe I was, because that was definitely not the age when I realized I was in love. I was one of the youngest victors, even more celebrated by the glorious trident I'd been given in the arena, undoubtedly one of the most expensive gifts the Capitol had ever seen. I was with a girl—Star, or Seaweed, or some name that gave away her home district—when I first ran into Annie. Star/Seaweed had been pining after me for a while before the reaping, and honestly she wasn't hard to notice, herself. She had bright red hair, wide green eyes, and a dazzling smile that tied to her name perfectly—oops, guess her name was Star.

I had taken Star out to the pier, like all the boys did when they wanted to kiss a girl. I'd been very nervous, because I had no idea if Star would let me kiss her, and it was, after all, my first kiss. Looking how I looked, it would be horrible to be shot down. So we sat on the bench facing the sea, just listening to the waves for a while, before I took her hand in mine and leaned in.

"I caught one, daddy! I caught one!"

I jumped up, surprised. Star scoffed at me like I was the biggest idiot for not actually kissing her, and walked away from me, muttering how victors always were a little wrong in the head. I ran to follow her, skipping down the steps to the beach, where she was headed towards the huge white tent where the celebration was being held. Not far away, I could just make out two figures by the shore, along with what must've been their fishing poles. A girl, slightly smaller than myself, was standing next to who I assumed was her father. Oliver Cresta was a tall man with salt and pepper hair, shortly cropped all-year round—though you wouldn't know it, since he had a habit of always wearing his fisherman hat—and he was one of the local fishermen.

The bells on their fishing poles were ringing wildly, especially hers, as she tried reeling it in. Finally, Oliver set down his own pole and helped the girl with hers, as she stood by, laughing and pointing with the utmost joy at the water, where I could just barely see a medium-sized fish getting dragged out by the hook. She squealed with joy, her long dark hair swinging around her in the cool salty breeze. She jumped up and down as he set it in the bucket, then leaned in to see what she'd caught.

Well, at least she caught something! I thought angrily as I kicked up sand and marched down to the shore. Oliver turned to me, smiling, and I think he might've been greeting me. Not that it mattered, because I got right on the defensive. "Seriously? You get all excited for that tiny fish?" I demanded, hands clenched into fists by my sides.

"Hey, wait—" Oliver started to say, as he pulled his daughter closer to him protectively.

"No! I had a chance of kissing this amazing girl," I went on furiously, "and you, with your squealing and your excitement, you drove her away!" I kicked up some more sand before turning around to leave. I could just barely hear the girl sniffling as I marched my way back to the white tent.

Annie

I never knew why I'd made him so angry in the first place. It was my father's first time taking me fishing since my mom died, and I was ecstatic, because we'd never actually been that close. It had always been just my mom and me, and, when she passed away, just me. My dad was there all the time, of course, but we'd never really connected until he found out I was a pretty good aimer with my fishing pole. After that, we'd always make plans to go fishing, but it turns out that the one night we were both free happened to be the same night of Finnick's homecoming party.

I'd be a ruthless liar if I denied having ever admired Finnick from a distance. It was hard not to; out of all the boys around my age, he was the one with the most amazing eyes. I didn't care much for face or body, because none of that really mattered. Nothing could remind me more of my mother than his sea-green eyes, the same color as the hue of the ocean in which she requested to be buried. For some people, being reminded of their lost loved ones is more a curse than a reassurance, but for me it's different. Maybe because my mother had always told me that, whenever she died, she would wait for me at the end of the horizon.

Of course, I never expected him to return my feelings. He was so good-looking, he was always with this girl, or that one, never lasting long in his relationships but always keeping his girl happy. I wanted him to be happy, too, so why force myself onto him? Besides, it's not like I ever really had a shot. I'd inherited my mother's green eyes and my father's dark hair, although the style in which I always carried it—my wavy locks loose around me, framing my face—was entirely my own. I knew I wasn't one of the ugliest girls, but I never seemed to meet Finnick's standards.

After the pier incident, I always wanted to apologize, but I never seemed to have the chance. Or, if I did, I never took it, for fear of being rejected or humiliated. Still, I had to figure out a way to make things right.

The first day back in school, I marched up to Star, who was, as usual, wearing one of her pretty turquoise dresses. Her hair was in a bun at the nape of her neck, and she was getting her books from her shelf, when I reached her. "Star, we need to talk," I told her firmly, hoping that she wouldn't say no.

She seemed startled, but nodded. "Sure," she replied. "What do you need?"

I took a deep breath before finally said, "I'm really sorry I made things between you and Finnick weird. I was out fishing with my dad, and I was just so happy that I caught a fish! Then Finnick came down, and he was really angry with me for it. He yelled at us, saying that we ruined your kiss, and now—"

Star held up her hand, smiling at me. I stopped abruptly, surprised, before she explained, "It's okay. Finnick and I are done. Haven't you heard? He's with Shelly now." She gave me a tight-lipped smile as she tried to gauge my reaction, studying my face carefully as I spotted him a few yards away, weaving through the crowd, hand in hand with Shelly. Then Star widened her eyes, as if she just realized something—which she did. "Don't worry, Annie," she told me confidentially, in a low voice. "You're way prettier than her. You'll have your chance." With that, she winked at me before quickly hurrying back to class.