Hey guys! I'm so happy with the responses for the first chapter! Thank you! Some of the reviews I got totally helped me out.
First of all, I made some confusing, stupid mistake of writing about Katniss's dad's death, and then mentioning him being alive in present time. Katniss's dad is dead! Sorry about that!
Next thing is that I wrote this chapter for my first reviewer, . Here is your scene!
Also! Last chapter, I had inserted lines between paragraphs to mark time break. For some reason beyond me, they did not show up. So, now, I will not be using them. This means that some chapters will be shorter than usual to avoid confusion. It also means there will be more chapters.
I want to thank you again for your support! It's very helpful.
-A Heart
I remember my first one hundred. I was nine years old and I had just beat the most obnoxious, know-it-all boy in my grade in the two hundred. That was when I knew the two hundred was for me. The one hundred was next, and I thought, why not, I mean what damage can it do? I stepped onto the track, body stiff and muscles tense. When I took off across the line, I felt like I was flying. My dad was standing on the side lines, screaming encouragingly at me to keep up the speed, to take long strides, et cetera. When I heard him yell 'You're winning, baby!' I glanced in his direction and gave him a toothy grin.
Later that night, my dad had reminded me that usually, I blocked out all sound and couldn't hear a thing when running. It was that phrase that night whenI had first acknowledged my cheering crowd ever, let alone hearing the, at all. My dad was so proud that it was his voice that sang in my ears in those brief seconds that he swore that the one hundred was the best race out there and that he was some magical being who belonged to it. I thought this was the stupidest thing ever.
I kept running the two hundred as my main event but did the one hundred to please my dad and for my own enjoyment. I had been practicing the one hundred two days before he died and got my PR. I never ran it again, not competitively, not even for practice. It hurt too much when I stepped on the starting line.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I blink the tears that threatened to overflow back. 'Ready.' I hear Haymitch's voice come from the starting voice. 'Set'.' The next command signals me to lift my hands from the ground. The gun shot rings in our ears and we take off, but all I can think of is trying to get the repeating word out of my head 'Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad.' We came across the finishing line, and I collapsed in a heap in the grass, making room for the next heat of runners.
"Hey, are you okay?" I look up long enough to make out Finnick's figure leaning down over me, his concerned eyes searching mine. Once again, I feel tears, and I know that I have to get out of here if I don't want the whole Olympic track team to see me cry. I bury my face in my hands and mumble: "Just get me out of here."
Finnick lifts me up, one of his arms slung over my shoulder my face buried into his side. He clutches me protectively and I see that he is leading me to the men's locker room.
"Finnick! What happened? Is she okay? Katniss?" Peeta yells, obviously distressed.
"Mellark!" Finnick barks, which is unusual for his usually calm demeanor. "Calm down, man. You're just stressing her out. Let me deal with this." I can tell that Peeta is reluctant to leave, but he follows the command.
When we enter the locker room, Finnick sits down next to me on a bench and strokes my hair, but I'm too emotional to care.
"You want to tell me what happened out there?" Finnick asks, and I gasp for air. I shake my head vigorously, the universal sign for 'no'. The bronze haired man pulls me in for a tight hug and we sit there for twenty minutes, me drowning in my own tears and him probably wondering what he ever did wrong to have to be with this messed up girl right now. I finally pull myself together and lean back, positioning my body to be facing the lockers.
"Sorry you had to see that." I mumble. I'd be surprised if Finnick even understood that.
"No problem. Everyone cries. I'd just like to know what that was about."
"Maybe someday I'll tell you." We are deafened by silence until I blurt put something that even surprises me.
"I never cry. I never did when my dad died." Finnick looks taken aback for a moment, but then he recovers. He stares at me slowly moving inward. I am frozen as he glances down to my lips and unconsciously licks his. He begins to place a calloused hand on my cheek when I fully realize my situation. I jump up and kick him in the shin, disgusted by his behavior. How could he take advantage of me like that? I was weak! Ugh.
"How dare you? I am weak and emotional and you try to kiss me? What if I had a boyfriend or something. In fact, I'm having dinner with Peeta tonight. That could have ruined everything!" I yell, throwing my hands in the air. Finnick is gaping at me, shocked at both me and himself. I shoot one last menacing glare at him and stalk away.
Back put on the field, Peeta sprints over to me, concern eating up his gorge- Katniss! Concern eating up his face.
"Hey! What happened?"
"Oh nothing. I just had an emotional breakdown over running the one hundred and..." I trailed off, eyes wide as I realize what I am about to say.
"And?" Peeta's eyes are frantically searching my face. I bite my lip and look away as I mutter my next line.
"And... Finnick tried to kiss me." This is when, in the movies, the boyfriend or jealous crusher stalks off to the offender and punches him in the head, telling him to leave his girl alone. But, in this life, Peeta looks like he is about to faint. Color completely drained of his face, eyes cast downwards, hands fumbling.
"Oh. So... you probably don't want to go out now."
"What! No! I shoved his sorry butt away and told him to that it was a really jerkish move, to go after an emotional girl like that. I also told him about you." I glance up to see Peeta with wider eyes and a small grin on his face.
"Wow. Yeah, I'd be scared of you when you get angry." He leaned on his right hip, head cocked, looking at me up and down. "Yup. Definitely scared."
"So, tonight at seven. Thai, right?" He nodded and did a little dance.
"Ta Ra Rin! Do do do do! Ta Ra Rin! Do do do do!" He shouts, hands in the air and hips circling. I giggle unconsciously and smack his arm.
"Shut up, you lunatic." Peeta frowns playfully while rubbing his arm. I glare at him, but he takes it lightly since he can see that there is no weight behind it.
"Come on." He grabs hold of me hand and begins to pull me away, when we are stopped by the voice of Finnick Odiar yelling: "Wait!" I spin on my heel, left foot tapping the ground impatiently.
"What do you want, Odair?"
"I just wanted to apologize. Trying to kiss you was immature and stupid, and to be honest with you, I'm not even sure why I did it. I don't even like you! Well, that way, I mean. I like you as a friend and stuff, but not roma-"
"Finnick!" I snap. "Your rambling. To the point, please."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. I like Annie Cresta. I really hope I didn't mess up a chan to be friends, 'cause I think that you are pretty awesome."
"Okaayyyy..." I drag out, suspicious. Peeta is standing there, arms crossed, glaring at Finnick, who is oblivious yet again to his surroundings. "See you later Finnick. Come on, Peeta. I need to go to the locker room to grab my bag and keys, and then we can walk out together, okay?" He looks a little relived that I remembered that he was still alive, and he nods and walks away from the troubled attractive man that was begging me for my forgiveness. Well, not really, but...
"That was awkward." Peeta chuckles and I smirk.
"Tell me about it. I can't wait to tell Annie though." Peeta smiles and nods.
"Just wait here for a second. I'll be back!" I take off down the hallway, glancing at trophies and photographs that line the walls. Soon, I reach the locker room and swoop my belongings into my arms. When I reach Peeta, he is staring at his phone, which he is holding with his thumbs swiping over incredibly fast. He looks up, smiles, and shoves it back into his front pocket of his jacket.
"Ready to go?"
"Yup." I reply, popping the 'p'. We walk down the hallway, me in front because my legs take longer strides than his, in comfortable silence. When we enter the parking lot, I immediately find my car with his next to it.
"Did you do that on purpose?" I question Peeta, hand on hip, eyes narrowed playfully.
"Fate made it to be this way!" He exclaimed. I blushed and looked down and he laughed nervously, realizing what he said. I decide to break the uncomfortableness first.
"Great job today, Peeta. I'll see you at seven." He nods, grateful for my save, which I'd odd, since I'm the one usually at loss for words.
"You too, Kat. See you soon!" He sends me off with a single wave and hops in his car. Peeta drives away and for two good minutes, I sit there, alone in my car. I shake my head in amusement of how much two days of Olympic team involvement can change you.
