Chapter 02

"Hey, Annie."
At the sounds of his voice, Annie couldn't keep the grin off her face, and turned to look up at the boy who had so quickly become her one, true friend. He had grown taller since the first day they met, by quite a lot actually, and he looked more mature. Of course, that was to be expected, as they had known each other for more than a year already. And that year had gone by so fast it was beyond comprehension. Every day since meeting, Finnick had come to her favourite spot, shielded from the sun by a big, old tree by the beach. He'd found her there, humming to herself as her well-trained fingers tied knots to the point of perfection, creating one of her fine nets. This one would sell for a lot, she could tell already. The precision in each and every knot was astounding, and once Finnick saw, he'd stared at her in disbelief.
"How do you do that?" he'd asked, much to Annie's amusement.
"What? All I do is tie some knots," she had replied nonchalantly, shrugging her small shoulders. This was something she had learned from her mother, but her small, yet firm fingers made her nets all the better. Much to her family's approval. Ever since she started making nets, her family hadn't been having the same problems with money as they did before. In many ways, Annie had been their solution to starvation.
"Clearly you're doing more than that," Finnick had told her, frowning before taking a seat beside her in the sand. "Teach me?" Annie had giggled then. Was there really something she could teach the famous and talented Finnick Odair?
"Sure. Just look at what I do." And from that moment, the two young kids had spent just about every single day together, her teaching him how to tie knots, how to make nets, and he had tried, several times, to convince her to join him for a swim. But each and every time she turned him down, saying that today was not the day.

"I made some progress on my net. I just… I feel like I should be finishing it," Finnick said as he slumped down beside her in the sand. His hair seemed all the more bronze coloured in the sunlight, especially after spending months and months out on the open waters with his father, helping with the fishing. Annie had still seen him every day though, if not in person, they had waved at each other from a distance. Because when he was out in the boat, she would be perched under her tree, tying her nets, and they would greet, the cold blue the only thing keeping them apart. And keeping the two of them apart was a challenge in and of itself. Because after meeting that day, they had found, in each other, a best friend. Someone they could learn from, someone they could talk to and someone they could both be themselves with. And for the past two years they had been pretty much inseparable.
"You've been working on it for almost two years though, Finn. Sure you can finish it?" she asked, almost teasing him, but her heart wasn't in it. Not today. And from the look on his face, she couldn't keep up her façade. "You're worried about the reaping." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. And all Finnick did was nod.
"How many times has your name been in there, Annie?" he asked. But she couldn't be sure. She'd taken some tesserae, but not enough for her to have her name in there an awful lot.
"I think it's three? But I'm not worried about me; I'm worried about you. How many times has your name been in there, Finn? Eight?" Again, Finnick nodded. There was a slim chance of either of them being reaped, but the horrid truth was; they still might be. It was all by chance.

The two young kids sat in silence for a while, until Finnick untangled his mess of a net and started tying knots. But from the way his fingers were moving, Annie could tell his heart wasn't in it. She let him tie a few knots, before giving up her own work, putting her hands over his, making him release the tangle of thread.
"Don't worry, Finn. There's plenty of other kids with their names in there more times than you," she whispered softly, and for the first time that morning, his gaze lifted to meet hers, his usually sea green eyes veiled with worry.
"It's not me I'm worried about. You can't be reaped, Annie," he whispered, his voice pained and weak. And Annie didn't know how to even respond to that. She had never heard him like this before, or seen him like this.
"If I'm reaped… I'll have to go. You know this. But the odds are in our favour this year, Finn. I think we're both safe." As the words left her mouth, she weren't sure if they were true at all. There was always a chance of them being reaped, but maybe, just maybe, these lies would help comfort him. "The Careers, Finn, they'll probably volunteer anyway." Probably, but it was not at all a certainty.

"We should go." They had been spending the last hour in silence, their nets on their laps, hands clasped together while staring out into the blue waters. No words could calm either of them down, so instead, being together, supporting each other in silence had been their way of coping. It was with a sigh Annie got up to her feet and dragged Finnick up along with her. "Leave the nets. My mum will come fetch them after the reaping," she told him, pulling him along with her, their feet dragging through the heated sand. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, thudding hard against her ribs as they walked. A crowd had already gathered in the great square, peacekeepers with their white uniforms standing on guard at every turn. As they reached the square, Finnick stopped dead in his tracks, bringing Annie to a stop with him.
"No matter what happens, we see each other again, okay? No matter what," he whispered, and Annie nodded, taking both his hands firmly in her own.
"No matter what," she agreed, her smile half hearted. And that was when they released each other's hands, and walked to their respective groups in front of the great stage.

The crowd was eerily quiet as the as the escort came onto the stage, shortly followed by the mayor of district 4 and some other Capitol officials. Annie never cared enough to remember their faces, nor their names. The girl next to her, shorter than herself, blonde, was crying silently, no doubt scared that she might be reaped. But among the girls surrounding her, Annie felt oddly at ease. This wasn't her year. It couldn't be. She was only twelve years old, after all. It was Finnick she was worried for. His name was in there a lot more times than her, and that at the nimble age of fourteen. The anthem started playing, a tune Annie had grown to hate over the years, and she kept her eyes closed, ignoring every rule about needing to watch the footage from district 13. Surely she wasn't the only one ignoring it, and instinctively she turned her head, finding Finnick looking right at her. And knowing that he thought the same about it as her, she couldn't help but smile, but Finnick shook his head, as if telling her to save it for later. Speeches were made, the anthem played once more, and suddenly her heart clenched in her chest, making it hard to breathe. It was time.

"We'll start off with the girls, shall we?" the man droned up, his voice as dull as ever. Not even the distinct Capitol accent could ever save him from sounding like the dullest person alive. Again, Annie caught Finnick's gaze, her eyes wide with fear. Maybe she would be chosen? If so, her chances of surviving were next to nothing. A twelve year old girl, skinny, fragile, weak. What chance did she stand in something as gruesome as the games? Annie knew the answer before she even asked herself the question. None. Her chances were non-existent. The escort put his hand in the bowl, scrambled around the many pieces of paper, and pulled one out, a victorious grin on his face, which only made him look contorted and odd. His facial tattoos did nothing to improve the image. He moved back to the microphone, clearing his throat, and called out a name. The name was not Annie Cresta. Annie didn't even have a chance of sighing in relief, because the blonde girl next to her started sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and shuddering. It was her. Without knowing what hit her, Annie enveloped the shorter girl in her arms, hugging her tight to her chest.
"Be strong. You can do this, be strong," she whispered, releasing the girl, who had stopped sobbing. And as she nodded, her blonde hair moving around her face in the action, she mouthed a 'thank you', before slowly making her way onto the stage. She looked all too young, all to little to be on that stage, and Annie half expected someone to call out, take her place, but nothing but silence followed. This girl, just turned twelve, would most likely never make it back to district 4.

The escorts voice didn't even register in her mind, before Annie realised he had moved on, to the bowl, where Finnick's name would be scribbled on eight pieces of paper. And the waiting was excruciating. His hand seemed to be fumbling around for minutes, before taking out a single note, moving slowly back to the centre of the stage. Again, he cleared his throat, a sickening sound, and opened the note.
"Finnick Odair!"
The world seemed to have stopped moving, everything slowing down, only for Annie to hear her own thudding heartbeat, the blood rushing through her body. And instantly her eyes found his, veiled with worry, making her usually green gaze surprisingly grey. Finnick shook his head, as if foreseeing what her next move would be. But what she did next was something that even took her by surprise. She sprinted forward, pushing through the crowd, towards him.
"No," she muttered under her breath. Annie couldn't even recognise her own voice as she came closer to him, hands clasping around his. "No," she repeated.
"Annie, go, you'll get in trouble, go," he said quickly, attempting to push her away, but to no use. "You have to go. Come see me in the justice building, I have to go," he told her, one final push making her lose her grip around his wrists, and she stood there, frozen, right in front of the stage as she watched her best friend, her only friend, walk up to the stage. No one volunteered. No one offered to take his place, like she thought they would.

The second the two tributes were escorted off the stage, and into the justice building, Annie found herself running, fast, to where she knew family and friends would be able to say their final goodbyes to their children, their brother or sister, or their friend.
"You have to wait, miss," a peacekeeper told her, but she ignored him, pushing past several guards as she sped towards where she knew Finnick was sitting, probably with his family. Another peacekeeper lifted her up from her feet, stopping her completely. "You have to wait. You'll see him in a few minutes."
"How long do I get?" The words were out of her mouth before she realised she had been thinking them. How long would she get to see her best friend before he was shipped off to the Capitol, to the very people that would be the death of him? The peacekeeper spoke, but the words didn't register in her mind. How did one say goodbye to someone you have held so close to your heart, someone you have grown to care for? How did one say goodbye to your only friend?

The peacekeeper held the door open for her, and Annie stepped in through the door, seeing Finnick perched at the edge of a table, hands shaking, eyes glistening from the tears provided for his family.
"Finnick." Her voice was soft as she made her way over to him. And for the first time since meeting, for the first time since becoming best friends, he opened his arms and pulled her in for a tight hug, his fingers curling themselves into the fabric of her dress. And he held on, as if his life depended on it. That was when she realised that it probably was. Her own arms wound around him, hugging him close, holding him in silence as she felt her shoulder getting wet from his tears.
"You come back, Finn. You hear me? You come back to 4, you come back and finish your net," she told him, firmly, her fingers entangling in his bronze locks. When he didn't respond, Annie pulled back, taking his face in her hands, her thumb brushing away a stray tear.
"Do you hear me, Finnick? You come back and finish your net. You come back and keep the promises you've made. Come back, and you teach me how to swim, you teach me how to skip stones, teach me to fish. You come back, you keep your promises." Unlike her best friend, she wasn't crying, her eyes grey with worry for him, but she remained strong. The last thing he needed was her crying because of the loss of her best friend.
"Finnick?" she demanded, needing an answer.
"Yes, I'll come back."
"Yes, you will. Keep the promises you've made. And I'll keep mine. Come back, okay, just come back." Finnick stared at her, his eyes glassy with tears, his cheeks stained pink with heat. "Promise me, Finn. Promise me you'll come back." Without any warning, the door burst open, two peacekeepers entering to escort Annie back outside, to a life without her best friend, and she flung her arms around Finnick once more. "Promise me."
"I promise, Annie, I promise I'll come back."

It was a promise Annie was expecting him to be keeping.