The next couple of chapters are kind of plot-less. Sorry about that. They'll be pretty fluffy though! The suspenseful/dramatic stuff will come when the next Games starts.
The Truth
(ANNIE)
When I get home from the train station, Lysander is there. He begins to explain that the Capitol sent medication for me. Apparently, the doctors have cooked up a new pill regiment to make me "normal" again. Every morning, I'm expected to take eight pills of different sizes and shapes, followed by some weird pink drink that Lysander has concocted for me.
And here I thought I was making progress.
I head into the living room and pick up the phone. I dial Finnick's number.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Finnick," I say. "It's Annie. Listen, do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"
"Sounds great," Finnick says enthusiastically.
"Cool," I say. "I'll see you in an hour or two, then?"
"Will do," he replies. Before I hang up the phone, he says, "It's good to hear you talking again." Then the line goes dead.
It feels weird to speak. But I guess it's like swimming; you never forget how to do it. I just wish I could get some words out around someone besides Finnick. Not that I haven't tried. I spent a whole half-hour opening and shut my mouth like an idiot as I tried to say "hi."
Deciding what to wear takes a lot longer than I anticipated. Do I dress formally? Casually? No, not casually. If Finnick – one of the most attractive men in the country – sees me in something like sweatpants, he'd run the other way. Eventually, I settle on a blue-and-white striped dress.
I cook some shrimp and pasta, put it in two bowls, and take it upstairs to my room. Then I try and clean up a bit.
When I hear a knock on the door, I rush downstairs as fast as I can. The door flies open and Finnick is there, leaning against the doorframe.
"Hi," I say quietly. "Thanks for coming over."
"You call, I come," says Finnick, entering the house. "I'm like a dog in that way." He smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
"Come on." I drag him up to my room by the hand.
He chuckles as we enter. "Just like I remember it . . ." We sit down on my bed. Finnick pulls something out of his jacket's right pocket. "I brought you something," he says quietly. I scoot a bit closer to try and get a look, but whatever it is, it's completely covered by his fist. "It's nothing special," he says. "Don't get your hopes up or anything."
He opens his hand. In his palm sits another one of those rope safety bracelets. It's made of the same soft, thin rope as the other. It's different, though. This one is made out of blue-and-white rope and tied together in a completely different style.
"In my own defense, I have a lot of rope and even more spare time," Finnick says defensively.
I pick up the bracelet. "I love it," I say. "Thank you." I slip the bracelet onto my wrist and turn my head up to give Finnick a kiss on the cheek. But his face is angled down and we accidentally bump noses. "I'm sorry!" I say.
"No worries," Finnick says. He gives me a kiss on the nose. Then he picks up a glass of ice water and starts to drink.
Why is he so good at this? I mean, he's so attractive and good at being . . . you know!
"Are we a couple?" I ask quietly.
Finnick doesn't seem at all effected. "A couple?" he asks. "Like, I'm your boyfriend and you're my girlfriend type of think?"
That doesn't sound quite right. Finnick's definitely not my boyfriend and I'm definitely not his girlfriend. So, where does that leave us?
I look at Finnick. "That doesn't sound right," I say, voicing my thoughts.
"I'll tell you what," Finnick says. He puts the water down on my bedside table. "Instead of me being your boyfriend, I'll be your Finnick. And instead of you being my girlfriend, you can be my Annie." He picks up one of the pasta-and-shrimp plates. "How does that sound?"
"Complicated," I say. "I'm sorry I'm freaking out on you."
"You've earned freak-out rights." He lies back on my bed. "Britton must be happy you're talking again."
"I'm sure he would be if he knew."
"He doesn't know? Why doesn't he know?"
I shrug. "I tried to talk, but I just couldn't." I start picking at the plate of food. "Wow. This is terrible."
"Yeah, I'm not gonna lie to you, you're an awful cook," Finnick says. "Sorry."
I lie down next to him. "Way to be supportive, Finnick."
He that funny half-grin spreads on his face. "I'm sorry," he says. He leans in to kiss me.
"Okay, a couple of things," Britton says slowly. Finnick and I look up and he's standing in the doorway. "First" – he holds up one finger – "kissing on the bed is a no-go. Second" – he holds up a second finger – "are you two an item? Third and finally" – third finger – "did you just talk?"
"Number one, that's fine," Finnick says. "Number two, yes. Number three, I will allow your sister to answer."
I swallow. Finnick slips his hand into mine. I shut my eyes tight and manage to get out, "Hi."
Britton nods to himself a few times. "Okay," he says to himself. "Okay. Okay." He's still nodding as he walks away.
"I think that went well," Finnick says.
"He's in confusion," I say.
"Confusion?" asks Finnick. "Do you mean shock?"
"I do not." I sigh. "Is this what you meant about things getting weird?"
He thinks on this for a moment. "It depends on what your idea of what 'weird' is." He points at the pill bottles on my nightstand. "What's that?"
"The Capitol sent me meds," I say quietly. Finnick clenches his jaw. I don't understand what about that statement pisses him off, but it does. "What's the matter?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "Nothing."
I'm not convinced.
