I reuploaded this chapter, not sure whether it was just my computer or not but some stuff went wrong and yeah. Also fixed up some things which needed fixing. So I think I've decided to split the story into 3 parts (I think). Good idea? I don't know, so let me know what you think. The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins.


Chapter 2:

She was there when he had finished swimming, sitting in the rock pools, staring into them and occasionally reaching to pick out something. A shell or some pretty coral maybe. It was the next morning and Annie had decided against weaving. Well actually, Nonna and Aunt Ayla had decided against it. "Go out and play like a normal child, while you still can", they had said. So she went. Her fingers needed a rest from weaving tapestries and knotting nets anyway.

"So this is your idea of fun?"

She turned at the sound of a voice. Finnick Odair sat down beside her and observed what she was doing. He was not looking at her incredulously though, as though the idea seemed utterly dumb, just with interest. His gaze at her fingers caused them to slip and she dropped the shell she was trying to thread into a bracelet she was making into the water. She hated being watched. He didn't seem to notice her slight frustration at losing the small shell and continued.

"Did you make that?"

She nodded, picked another small shell out of her basket, and wove it into the bracelet. It was deceptively simple by design, really, but the knots still looked rather impressive as they were not very common ones. "My aunt and grandma sell nets and such in the market."

He nodded, "Yeah I know."

Annie looked up from her work, "Oh yeah…Your dad buys from us, doesn't he?"

Finnick nodded once more. He hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Can you show me how to do that?"

Annie looked up, faintly surprised. "Sure." She replied, giving him the bracelet and getting a new piece of thread to weave with herself. He learned quickly with able fingers that soon picked up the knots needed to make the bracelet. Annie had to admit that she was slightly impressed. Only to herself, of course. Outwardly she would act like it was her skill at teaching that made him so successful. Probably both, she though.

"So how come you come down here?" she asked, breaking the silence as they both worked on their knots.

"It's fun. It's far away. I can pretend I'm someplace else," he shrugged. Then he hesitantly continued, "And my mom used to take me here."

Annie was quiet. She had known that Finnick's mother had died in the same accident that took the life of her own mother several years ago, but somehow she had completely forgotten until now.

"So your mom's…" she tilted her head to the side, in question, but the word didn't leave her lips. Tactless, it would be, to finish that sentence. However the damage had been done, he knew what was implied, obviously. Finnick's hands stopped knotting.

"Yeah," he replied quickly. It was at that point that he no longer sounded like a boy, but much, much older.

Both were quiet, and then hands went back to knotting.

"Mine too."


School was only 3 or so days a week for the older children of district 4, and classes finished at lunch time. Whoever decided this probably thought that there was no point in taking the children's education too seriously. Really, what else would they do with their lives other than take over their family's businesses? By the time they had entered teenage years most didn't even bother to attend, and didn't have to. Boys and girls would learn to fish, or run stalls, or make nets, or help out on the boats, starting early and ending when their bones and weak old muscles could no longer stand the work they had devoted their entire lives to. In spite of this, Annie still enjoyed school, and excelled at it.

It wasn't that she didn't have friends, sure she could be friendly or play with some of the other kids her age group, it was just that when school was done, there were so many other things to be done, places to go and explore and visit and things to make that no one seemed to see the fun in except for her. Plus, during the summer, most kids went swimming for many hours of the day. What would she do with them, watch from the shore?

During their short recess the following day, Annie was sitting alone on a patch of grass, working on her bracelet.

"Annie! Annie!" some girls her age called to her. She looked up from her knotting.

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna come hold the rope?" they were skipping with a long piece of twine. "We're trying to see how many we can get in. We can get someone else do it if you don't want."

Annie pocketed the bracelet and put on a tight grin, shaking her head. "No, it's fine, sure."

Eugh, as if she cared about their silly game. Still saying no was not something she was used to.


A few days later Finnick and Annie had agreed to meet at the rock pools. Finnick was going to show her how to spear fish, something that Annie really didn't seem too excited about. However just the thought of it excited him so she had no choice but to finally give in to his pleas. She realised that while Finnick's personality (and yes, looks) made him popular with many kids at their school, Finnick was quickly finding it harder to find time that he and his friends could spend together. Along with this, there was that attitude… that indefinable 'Finnick' attitude: impatient, adventurous, with very little tolerance to repetition. In this way Annie and he were almost complete opposites. She realised that he may really want a friend to do these fun things with, and who was she to deny him? Not like she had anything better to do.

"Nonna, Nonno, I'm going to go play now!" Annie called as she left her room, but then winced at how childish she sounded. It was nearly the time that she had arranged to meet Finnick. She peered into the kitchen, where her grandmother and grandfather were washing dishes together in the sink. They seemed to not have heard her. Right I forgot, they're both half deaf now, she thought. My grandfather was singing loudly to my grandmother, who laughed at him.

Annie cleared her throat. "Yes Annie?" her grandmother said without turning away from the dishes.

"I just said I'm going now," she replied.

"Now?" Nonna turned this time, drying one of the last plates with a cloth, "You're Aunty needs you in the stall, there's lots to do."

Annie was strangely disappointed, though it was only spear fishing. She didn't protest however, just nodded wordlessly.

"Nonsense!" Nonno cried with a laugh. "Let the girl go play, not long and you'll have her living at that stall."

"Well," Annie's grandmother began, "Ayla needs her. There are so many nets to fix and she can't run the stall and do both."

Her grandfather patted her on the arm, "I'll help Ayla. Annie, you go play."

Annie smiled, "Thank you Nonno." She kissed them both on the cheek before she left.

Finnick was not at the rock pools when Annie arrived, so she sat down and drew the almost complete bracelet from her pocket and began to thread. Threading and weaving was as much an enjoyable hobby to her as it was a way to keep her hands busy. She hated not having something to do with her hands. She found that she had a bad habit of picking at her nails and the surrounding skin, biting her nails, chewing strands of hair. Needless to say she almost never had to cut her nails, as they had a tendency to be bitten to the bone.

"Seriously do you ever put that thing down?" she turned to see Finnick smirking.

"Yeah, I just like to look like I'm busy so stupid people don't talk to me," she replied with a slight twinkle in her eye. She put it away though and stood to face him, eying the spears he had brought. "So we're seriously using those to catch fish?"

"Yep, here, take one." But when she went to grab one he pulled it away and shoved the other one into her hand. When she raised her eyebrows he said, "Not this one, it's my trident, you have to earn it."

Annie rolled her eyes, "Okay Odair," and took the single pointed spear. They made their way across the rock pools and into the shallows of the bay, where the water was very still. It was hard to believe that around the other side of the cliff face waves would regularly batter the shore. "So what now?"

Finnick held a finger to his lips, signalling her to be quiet. She felt that this was not the time to move either, so she stayed very still. They stood there very quietly for about five minutes, until the sea life which seemed invisible when they first entered the water began to reappear around them. The bottom of Annie's skirt was wet, but she paid no mind to it. She let it float in the water at her knees as she became entranced by everything that was appearing. Tiny schools of fish at first, but after these soon came a few silver fish, which while small, were still just large enough to be considered edible. She liked the way their scales –

The flash of a spear broke her reverie and as Finnick pulled it out of the water she saw one of the small fish sticking off the end.

"There," he grinned, carefully pulling the fish off the end of the spear. He waved it in her face and she cringed while batting his hands away.

"Stop it!" she cried with a laugh, the smell of raw fish wafting in front of her.

He kept grinning, the slightest bit lopsided. "Now you try."

"Just like that?" she asked.

"Just like that," he answered. "Just try to become a part of the water, if you feel like you have to move, move as a part of the ocean."

Annie nodded. She kept her spear poised, and waited. Waiting was what she was good at. A hush fell over them once more, and the only sounds were water lapping faintly near them, and the slightest sense of waves crashing in the distance. The fish began to reappear, and Annie was watching them all, deciding which one to aim for. It seemed like she had just decided on one, barely shifting to lift the spear, when they darted away. By the time she threw it down they were long gone.

Finnick was laughing at her. "Wow that seaweed looks delicious." True enough a few strips of the green plant were attached to the end of her spear.

"Hah, you're hilarious," she tried to make her sarcastic tone sting. It hadn't worked, he still looked amused. "Doesn't matter. You know, this'd be a lot easier with a net."

He nodded, "Yeah it would, that's how I was taught."

"And you decided to teach me the hard way?"

"Only because I knew you'd love a challenge."

Annie shook her head, "That's where you're wrong, I like to do things the proper way. How come you don't use a net?"

Finnick shrugged, "Don't need one. You saw that, didn't you?"

Annie thought for a moment, "But you'd still miss at times, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah I guess. Still that's only a few times. I don't see why I should use a net if I'm perfectly fine without."

Sure Finnick was talented, and good at catching fish with spears, but Annie recalled the few times she had seen young men spear fishing. She was pretty sure nearly all of the used a net. And that's when she saw it resurface, the slight arrogance in Finnick's nature, a child's arrogance but arrogance none the less. An old phrase came into her head. Arrogance is the obstruction of wisdom.


Annie had tried to catch a fish several more times but without success. She probably would have kept trying all day, thought Finnick, who had told her to stop being stubborn and try again later. He caught another fish in a few minutes and they had made their way back to the shore, building a small fire the cook the fish. As Finnick gutted the fish and began to cook them, Annie continued with her bracelet. Nearly done she thought with satisfaction.

"Annie?"

She looked up. Had he said something? "Sorry, what?"

"You weren't listening were you?" Finnick looked slightly amused.

Annie blushed, "No sorry I was…anyway what did you say?"

Finnick shook his head, "Nothing really, I was just saying how my dad keeps wanting me to go out on the boat with him to fish."

"And…?" Annie said.

"It's just annoying, that's all," he grumbled, "It smells from all the fish out there and you have to get up really early and stay out there for hours."

He sounded so childish with his complaints. "You're going to end up having to take over when you're grown up, you may as well get used to it Odair."

"I know," he snapped, then again, "I know," but softer. "I just hate that I'll have to do something that I don't want to for the rest of my life. I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" she was confused, "I don't mind netting."

He shook his head, "Not just that. It's how you do everything, even if you have the choice."

Annie was quiet for a moment, "But I don't."

"Yes, you do," Finnick said.

"No," she said with finality, "I don't. No one's going to care what you wanna do so you might as well just do what you're asked."

This time Finnick was silent. Eventually he just said, "You know for someone so stubborn you're quite a pushover." But it wasn't meant to upset her. It was simply a quiet observation. Annie didn't answer. He took the fish from the leaves they were smoking on. "Here," he held out the fish. But when he turned he saw that she had gotten up and was walking away. He watched her go, almost at the hill; climbing the hill; out of sight.

Stupid Odair she grumbled to herself. But she knew that in some part what he said was true. She didn't know what had annoyed her enough to walk away. Maybe it was that while Finnick could complain about things, she just did them. That's how it had been her whole life, arguing about these things was usually a waste of time.


Upon arriving home Annie immediately went into the kitchen, ravenous ever since the smell of cooking fish had caused her tastebuds to stir. She grabbed the last role and tore chunks of it, shoving them into her mouth, chewing quickly. Though slightly stale, the bread was still quite flavoursome. It would probably be a few more days until her family could afford to buy more, however, and it was done all too soon. She decided she would make her way to the stall, her Aunt could probably still use some help and she began to feel bad about her grandfather taking her place to do her jobs.

Before she was out the door, however, she heard noises coming from the living room. Annie walked in, finding her grandmother quietly sniffling and weeping on a chair with her head in her hands, while Ayla was biting her nails, her eyes glistening, but in better condition than Nonna. Her Aunt only just noticed her appearance, and rose to embrace her without saying a word.

"What…what happened?" Annie mumbled in confusion.

Ayla led her out of the room into the hallway, her expression pained. Her face grew red from trying to hold back crying.

"Oh Annie," she said. "It's your grandfather." Her voice cracked, "He fell." She then shook her head, unable to speak further, and let out a sob, once again embracing her niece, whose eyes quickly grew wet. Her grandma's howls of sorrow sounded from the other room. Annie understood, but it seemed impossible.

No more music in this house.


Yeah there's chapter two. I'd really appreciate any feedback, in regards to how the story is being written, pointing out any mistakes, etc. Are they too long? Too short? Just let me know, all constructive criticism welcome.