Headcannon #1

Today, I woke up earlier than usual. I was immediately swept with an uneasy feeling, but it took me a few minutes to figure out why- it was the worst day of the year. The day of the reaping. My father always assures me that I have no chance of being picked, but there still is always a chance. But more than for myself, I fear for my friends. My best friend Blondie (it's an inside joke, everyone calls her that), my sister, Mitchy...

I sighed. I don't even know why I was thinking about him, we're not even friends. Just something about his dark grey eyes, so similar, and yet so different, than most of our districts habitants. Just my luck- the one boy I'm attracted to has to be the one with the most pride, who wouldn't, and I quote, "bang a blonde bubble head like you for all the money in the capitol, richie!" I don't understand what I've done for him to hate me so much- it's not my fault I don't live in the Seam! Even after his humiliating rejection, I still worry about him. It's said that this year, he's putting his name in as much as he can, just to help feed everybody! He doesn't even have to- I always offer to share my food, but he refuses. I just don't understand...

"Maysi!" my mom called. "Let's get you dolled up for today- who knows, you could get picked and go to the Capitol!" Her voice isn't anxious, but excited, as though she's forgotten that if I'm picked, I die. For certain. I understand a little, seeing as Mom came here from District 2, as a Peacekeeper, so she has no idea what it's like to actually have a chance of being in the games even if you don't want to. She'd love to be on TV, even at the expense of my life.

I endure the next hour of torturous 'dolling up' by praying that whoever is picked won't be me, or Blondie, or my sister, or Mitchy.

"Anyone else," I thought. "Anyone but us four." I felt mean, but what else could I do? Pray that Snow dies? Fat chance. Better to hope for something realistic.

Finally, we left for the reaping. I slipped away from my mom to join up with my friends, who stood in a huddle near the stage. Chris Mellark was trying to flirt with Blondie, but she was smiling at Hunter Everdeen, one of the Seam boys, who was a known poacher. I have no idea what actual name is- everyone just calls him Hunter, teasing him about his criminal activities. Poor Chris- he just doesn't see that we like Seam boys, not just cookie-cutter bakers like him. My heart twanged, as I realized I was classifying people by their money, something I normally hated. Suddenly, the crowd hushed. Saphire Rose walked up on stage, her painfully bright outfit throwing reflections of the sun at us. As I squinted, turning away, I caught sight of Haymitch, and gasped. He was looking at me!

Instead of turning away like he normally did the rare occasions I saw him watching me, he stared right at me, and then gave me a small smile. My heart fluttered, and I gave him a small wave, completely tuning out Saphire's pointless jabber. His smile turned to a grin as I waved. On the inside, I was turning cartwheels- finally! He was interacting voluntarily with me! Too giddy by this success to use good judgment, I mouthed, "Hey, what's up!" His expression turned to horror, and I turned beet red. God, what had I been thinking? Then I realized that it was completely silent, and people were staring at me. Irrationally, I thought everyone had seen my failure at flirting with Haymitch, until I was hugged by a sobbing Blondie. Then I realized. Without even noticing, Saphire had drawn my name.

Numbly, I shook free of Blondie, giving her an absentminded pat on the head, and walked up to the stage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mitchy looking at me, thunderstruck. Tears filled my eyes as I realized I would never be with him, that I would be dead within weeks. As my mind restarted, Avery, a weak, mean-spirited Seam girl, and Johnnie, Hunter's best friend, were picked. I allowed myself to relax, knowing that while I would certainly die, at least Haymitch would live on.

Until Saphire Rose picked out the last slip of paper. Clearing her throat, she said, "Haymitch Abernathy. Come on up now, boy. Well, congratulations to the lucky tributes chosen for this Quarter Quell, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" As we all shook hands, I started crying. First hiccupping and sniffing, then full out sobbing. Ignoring the crowd staring at us, as soon as the cameras turned off, Haymitch hugged me. I clung to him tightly, and we stayed like that until they pulled us apart to say our last goodbyes.

Goodbyes were a blur. Looking back, I only remember bits and pieces- my sister sobbing on my shoulder, my mother beaming and congratulating me, friends wishing me luck. The only one I remember clearly was Blondie's. She came up to me, and solemnly handed me a cloth-wrapped item. Opening it, I gasped. It was a gold mockingjay pin! I've always secretly loved mockingjays, their songs, their resilience against being beaten down.

"I was going to give this to you for your birthday, but now... Anyway, Hunter gave it to me. He said he got it from a rebel passing through, but I don't believe him. The point is, wear it in the arena. Maybe... maybe it'll bring you luck?" She didn't sound too confident, but I was too touched by the gift to take offense. I ripped out the diamond clip my mother had put in my hair, that was supposed to signify District 12 and prosperity. I couldn't stand thinking of her, knowing that she was probably giddy with excitement.

"Thank you so much, Blondes. I love it. When- if I don't come back, take care of my sis, will you? And, just follow your heart. Even if it leads you to a certain handsome poacher." I nudged her, and we both laughed, stopping after a moment.

"Come on, chickadees, let's go!" said Saphire. I embraced Blondie one last time, waved goodbye to my old life, and stepped after Mitchy onto the train. We entered a compartment with Johnnie and Avery, who glared at me, then fluttered her eyelashes at Haymitch. He rolled his eyes, and I snorted. This was going to be a fun trip.

A few hours later, we were still on the train. Avery had long given up on Haymitch, who just stared out the window, and now lay asleep with her head on an also sleeping Johnnie's lap. I fiddled with my pin, polishing it on my dress. Finally, I couldn't stay there any longer. Our lives were running out by the second, and I was supposed to spend time sitting on a train? I got up, and paced down the train, finally sitting on a ledge near a huge window. It was slightly cracked, so I pressed my face against it, longing for fresh air, not caring if I got cut.

After minutes like that, someone cleared their throat behind me. "Trying to jump off the train? Cause if it were me, I wouldn't break the glass with my face. Might spoil my looks." I smiled. I'd know that sarcastic, sardonic voice anywhere.

"Really?" I replied. "Don't see any looks to spoil." Instead of getting angry, he chuckled. "So the butterfly brain has a sense of humor. Didn't know you had it in you, Mayse." I blushed at the nickname (that he made up for me!) and finally turned away from the window. Sure enough, now I had a thin gash running down my face.

"Ouch." he said. "So, what brought you to leave me with the dimwits? They're worse than you. Take it as a compliment or an insult, either way works." Mitchy winked, then took on a more serious tone. "Are you upset that you got chosen?"

I sputtered. "Upset? UPSET? No, why would I ever be upset about being chosen to fight other kids to the death, probably dying horribly, away from friends and family? That wouldn't make any sense at all! Of course I'm not UPSET!" Finally, I was able to rant to someone about how I was feeling. Haymitch let me yell for a few minutes, then grabbed my arms.

"I hope that you got all of that uncontrollable rage out. Because from here on out, you're going to have to be steel. People are going to be ripping you to shreds, as soon as we step off this train- maybe even sooner," he said, nodding towards our compartment with Johnnie and Avery inside. "Do you know what it's going to be like? For us, especially? We'll have no sponsors, not in the trash bags they're going to dress us in. We don't have many talents, especially you." I flushed. No talents? But before I could interrupt, he continued. "There will be twice as many people in that arena as usual, twice as many people wanting to stab out your eyes and rip out your intestines. No alliances for us- who would want to be allied to coal miners? And guess what. We're going to have to suck it up and deal with it. Because once we're in public, breaking down like you're so fond of doing is going to give us no points at all. People want to see tough, strong competitors, and like it or not, that's what we have to give them. So pull yourself together, because I'd rather you or me win than any other mouth breathers we'll be fighting against- even our fellow District 12s. Especially our fellow District 12s."

I stared at him, wide-eyed. I wasn't sure whether to scream, hit him, or cry. So instead, I stood up on my toes and pressed my lips against his. At first he stood stock still, and I thought I'd made a huge mistake. Then, so slowly, his arms went around me, and pulled me against him. Right at that moment, the train whistle blew, and we started to slow down. We were still staring at each other. The train stopped. Finally he smiled, a real smile, not his usual smirk.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." he breathed. And, as I was screaming, "YES! YES! FINALLY!" on the inside, I took his hand, and, smiling, we stepped outside to face the world. Together.