I was 11 years old when I first laid eyes on Finnick Odair.
My Father, Gether Cresta, was Captain of a fishing boat, the D4-Aquamarine, in District 4, and Finnick's father was the manager of the fishing company that my dad worked for. His father, Mr. Uly Odair, was one of the most important people in our District—excluding the mayor and Peacekeepers, of course. There was only one fishing outfit, so he was the only one in charge. Without him, there were no fish for any of us or the Capitol. It's safe to say that he had tons of money and luxury.
Each year, Mr. Odair would sponsor the Fisherman's Ball and invite the Mayor of 4, the heads of Shellfish, Trapping, Ships, Equipment, and Preparation, along with various key people in each department. That was how our District worked: everyone was under the Mayor, but our jobs were all separated into those sections. That year, my father was lucky enough to snag an invite to Mr. Odair's rather large home. Of course, my mother and I both accompanied him to the party.
I remember putting on my nicest dress. We weren't a poor family, but we certainly weren't "Odair rich." My nicest dress was sea-foam green; my mother said it was her favorite because it matched my eyes so well. It was simply cut being tight at top and waist then flowing down to right below my knees. I wore it with my best tan sandals and my favorite pearl necklace that my grandmother had given to me when I turned ten. My mother tried to tame my unruly hair, but the salty sea air always made it a little frizzy. I had always wanted my hair to get wavy like my mom's did in the sea air, but eventually I learned to appreciate my straight locks.
That day, the three of us set out to the Odair Mansion—well it wasn't really a mansion. It definitely wasn't as big as any of the houses in the Victor's Village, but it was larger than any house I had ever been to. Father rang the doorbell, and a very kind looking lady answered it. She smiled and welcomed us in, and chatted for a while with Mother and Father, but I don't remember anything she said. Eventually, she left to talk to other guests and she took my Father and Mother with her. I was left by myself in what looked to be a formal living room.
I'm sure I must have wandered around the room and explored, but I don't remember what exactly I did. I do, however remember what happened after about ten minutes.
I ended up staring out the window, admiring the beautiful ocean view. When I was that age, I didn't know how to swim. Mother claimed that I would never need to know such a talent as women didn't need to do any of the sea-type jobs that District 4 had. She was determined that I would grow up to be a medic or something equally boring. I, however, had always wanted to learn. It was the first wish I ever made.
Suddenly, someone snapped me out of my haze and gathered my short, 11 year old attention span. "Why, hello there, Girly!"
I scowled and turned to look at whoever was bothering me. It was a boy who looked to be a couple years older than I was. He had untidy, sandy blonde hair, and green eyes—his were a tad stormier than my own. He was grinning at me, and though I'm sure it wasn't quite sincere, I remember thinking that it was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. My scowl disappeared almost immediately, and I blushed.
Of course, that made the cocky bastard's grin grow even larger. "You do know this is a party, right?" he asked me.
I turned back to the window before I answered him. I wanted to seem aloof, but in reality I was afraid my face would betray something. "Of course I do. But it's a party for grown-ups… I don't see any other children here, so I'm keeping myself entertained without bothering them," I replied, thinking I was just the smartest thing.
He laughed, "You're right about there not being other children here, but that doesn't mean we can't have a party for us, too!"
I turned towards him, intrigued by the possibility of doing something other than staring out the window, dreaming of impossibilities. "What do you suggest?"
He didn't reply. Instead he held out his hand.
I didn't know at the time that by taking it into my own, I was entwining our futures together. I had heard of crushes from my friends in school, but I had yet to have one myself—let alone anything more. However, I'm sure that if I went back to that point in time with all of the knowledge I have now, I would recognize the as at least more than a crush. Cliché, I know.
The boy led me out of the formal living room, into a formal dining room. We went through that into a banquet room with a table full of food. He quickly grabbed a few things, and then we continued until we reached a kitchen. I thought we would stop there as it wasn't populated at all, but we kept going. He took me out a door, and we were outside on a green, perfectly manicured lawn. Only the rich could afford pure water for their lawns. The rest of us had to be content with whatever was there. Still, we kept going. The grass eventually turned into sand, and we were next to the sea. He led me to a boulder and jumped up on it. After helping me up, we sat there and stared at the sea which was crashing against the shore about a foot away from us.
"This is amazing…" I had whispered under my breath.
He heard me. "Aw, this isn't anything special," he replied with a face full of Hush Bread.
Of course, I, being forbidden from going anywhere near the water despite living in the water district, was quick to refute his claim. "Oh, but it is! I've never been this close to the water before!"
He dropped his plate of food, none of which he had even offered to me by the way. The boy's eyes found my own and his jaw became slack in disbelief. "You mean you've never been in the water before?"
I looked back out of the water, laughing at his reaction. "Nope. My mom says that I don't need to be out on the water where it's dangerous. I can stay home and learn to be a medic or something instead."
The boy shook his head, keeping his disbelieving look on his face. "No offense, but your mom's insane." He sat back down by me.
"If it helps any, I've always dreamed of learning how to swim. And fish actually—like my dad. Oh, and spear, and tie knots, and harvest shellfish, and trap, and—"
He started laughing again. "You're weird. What's your name?"
"My name's Annalinda Cresta. I hate it though—you can just call me Annie. Everyone does."
He held out his hand for me to shake. "Finnick Odair. You can call me Finnick." He ended that with a wink, and yet another cheeky grin.
I rolled my eyes, but before I could say anything, I heard our parents calling our names.
That was my first encounter with Finnick Odair—simple and sweet. Sure, he was a slight jerk, and yes, we didn't do much of anything, but it was memorable. Most importantly, it was enough to make me want to see him again.
I didn't see much of Finnick after that. I found out from Mother that he was two years older than me, so we didn't see each other at school. Of course, I could tell that he spend a lot of time in the water. I didn't, so there went the chances of us accidentally running into each other in our free time. I began to forget about him.
One day, about a year later, I ran into Finnick at the Fish Market. Surprisingly, he was the one that came to talk to me. I was standing at the tuna stand, when I heard my name being called, "Oh Annalinda!"
I cringed, but turned around anyways. There he was. He had grown up a lot since I last saw him. He was taller, more muscular, and tanner, but still retained the same hair and eyes. "Finnick? Finnick Odair?" I had to make sure before I made a fool of myself.
He made a grin that I now realized was something he commonly did. "The one and only!"
I rolled my eyes, which I now realized was something I commonly did—around him anyways.
"It's been forever since I saw you! I can't believe you remembered me."
I cocked an eyebrow in amusement. How could I not remember him? He had been the only thing I had thought about for about eleven and a half months after I met him. Kidding—it was only about four. Still, you don't forget your first crush that easily.
I didn't say anything, because he kept talking. "Anyways, do you remember what we talked about when we met?"
"Yes…" I started, wondering where he was going with this.
"Well," he began, "I told myself that if we ever met again, I'd teach you how to swim. It must be fate!"
I looked away from the tuna to his face. He seemed to be perfectly serious. Learn to swim? My mother definitely wouldn't approve, but I'm sure that if I told her I would be with Finnick Odair she would be much more sympathetic. After all, social climbing in District 4 is almost as good as being a medic. At least that's what she told me.
Still, I felt like I should protest. Sure, it had been my dream since I was old enough to know what water was, but it was still nerve-wracking to consider. I knew at least 4 people connected to me that had died by drowning, getting poisoned by some type of sea creature, or boating accident. I didn't want to suffer the same fate. I looked at Finnick. He was staring at me with curiosity, slightly surprised that I was taking so long to answer. Eventually I would have to.
"Sure…"
There were worse fates than any of those.
We arranged to meet on Sunday at noon. Neither of us had any work or that many chores to do. At noon, the sun was high—a guarantee to keep the water warm and inviting. Plus, the tide will have just gone out at that time, giving us a nice, calm, shallow practice area. I frowned slightly, the deaths weighing heavily on my mind. I may not have played a part in them, but death is something that should not be taken lightly in these days. You never know who was going to go, whether from natural causes, accidents, or the Capitol (although no one would ever voice that last option aloud).
Finnick must have seen what I was thinking on my face, because he tried to comfort me with a, "Don't worry. I'll make sure nothing hurts you… you'll see it's worth it to learn in the end."
My frown disappeared for a moment, and I nodded. I didn't doubt it. "Thanks, Finnick. I'll see you at your house on Sunday." He smiled back and turned to go, but I stopped him. "And Finnick… Don't call me Annalinda again."
He guffawed, shaking his head and walking away. I went back to my tuna.
At first, I didn't think we would end up meeting that Sunday.
As soon as I had gotten home from the market, I went to my mother, eager with the good news. The problem was, I forgot that learning to swim was only good news for me. To her, it was annoying: something that she didn't want to have to deal with, but would have to anyways if she wanted her way. Mother was completely against my learning to swim, despite the social gains. There was no point in learning, as I would never do need to do it. Wasting time was not a good thing to do in District 4—and that's exactly what my mother thought I would be doing.
Of course I protested. I even appealed to my father. He simply said, "She's right," and went back to his salmon. Father never had many opinions in our house. Even if he had, I'm sure Mother would have overruled them. The only authority he held in our personal home life was work and knowledge of fish—not exactly helpful in this case. I was left with no choice but to call Finnick and cancel.
I never really used the telephone in my home. Almost every home in District Four had one, with the exception of the Unem Sector. "Unem" was short for unemployed. That was the section of the District where all of the unemployed citizens lived. They scraped by doing various jobs that were needed in the District; it wasn't a pleasant life. I was happy I lived in the Lower Sector, where the middle class families lived. The Heads and their families all lived in the Upper Sector, and of course the Victors lived in the Victor's Village.
It wasn't Finnick that answered the phone, but his mother in a smooth, cool voice. "Odair."
"Hi…" I began. His mother was intimidating, even on the phone. "This is Annie Cresta—a friend of Finnick. May I please speak with him?"
There was silence, and at first I thought that she had hung up on me. But, about a minute later, Finnick's rough voice was heard over the speaker. "Annalinda…"
"Don't call me that," I snapped.
"I'm sure you had some other reason to this call other than to tell me not to call you by your name." I could tell he was laughing at me, and it rubbed me the wrong way, as usual.
I frowned. My voice had a cooler tone to it than what I wanted it to originally be. "I'm not coming on Sunday."
He was quiet. "Aw, come on, Annie. I didn't mean anything by it! You just have to learn—"
And that was all it took to make me feel guilty. I supposed it did sound like I was being a bit hard on him. He was only teasing, after all. I sighed. "It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not allowed."
"Come anyways! Don't tell your parents what we're doing. Find a way, Annalinda… and I'll see you on Sunday!" He hung up.
All I thought of was how annoying it would be to spend time with him and his ego. More like his ego and him. Yet for some reason, I couldn't wait.
