Author's note:
I do not own the Hunger Games universe or characters. In fact, in a way, they own me.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited this story! Very sorry for not updating sooner—you know how tough it is to get a moment to yourself during the holidays :(
I hope you like this chapter.
Title: The Past is Prologue
Summary: Three, united. Two, divided. One, alone. The girls who came before Madge Undersee and Katniss Everdeen had their whole lives ahead of them... until the day Maysilee Donner was Reaped.
CHAPTER THREE
In which a Donner girl has to deal with a cranky boy from the Seam
Margaerisse was the boring one.
Not that there was anything wrong with her. Quite the opposite: she was an excellent student and a good athlete, and there wasn't a musical instrument in District 12 that she couldn't play. She was pretty, with silky blonde hair and a melt-your-heart smile. In fact, of the three girls, Margaerisse had the most admirers, but that was probably because Lukas Mellark scared everyone else away from Willow and feisty Maysilee scared most boys away from herself.
On paper, Margaerisse was perfect. But Maysilee was a force of nature, while Willow's fragile beauty rendered grown men speechless. So it was easy to overlook the other twin, the other friend. Margaerisse knew this, and wasn't bothered by it or resentful in any way because of it.
It was just the way things were.
ooo
Margaerisse smiled to herself as she heard the hesitant strumming coming from the music room. It was a familiar song – an old, old song – one that her grandfather had taught her to play when she was ten. Hearing the song never failed to conjure up memories of lazy summer days and the comforting smell of vintage guitars.
"I love that song," she said out loud.
The boy playing guitar nearly jumped out of his skin. "Dammit, blondie, now I've lost my pick," he groused, awkwardly leaning over the guitar to peer at the floor.
Margaerisse knelt by his side and found the small piece of plastic. "Here you go. Sorry about that."
"Do you do this a lot? Sneaking up on people?" the dark-haired boy grumbled.
She straightened up and regarded him sternly. "If you don't want people to sneak up on you, then don't sit with your back to the door."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Hey, I know you. From the sweet shop. And you were in my trigonometry class last year."
"You must mean my twin sister," Margaerisse corrected him. "I didn't take trig."
The boy snorted back a laugh. "You merchant folks can afford two of everything, can't you?"
Margaerisse resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Is Ms. Brubeck here?" she asked, changing the subject.
"She just stepped out."
"Oh." She glanced at the clock on the wall. She had about 45 minutes before she was due to start her shift – or rather, Maysilee's shift – at the sweet shop. "I guess I can wait a bit. I'm just here to get some sheet music."
"You play guitar?"
"A little." She sat down opposite him and gestured towards the guitar. "May I?"
The boy passed the guitar to her. "I haven't been playing long," he admitted.
"My grandfather taught me," Margaerisse said wistfully as she began to pluck her way through the first few bars of the song.
"He still around?"
"Yes. His mind is starting to wander, though." Margaerisse said quietly. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile. "Want to sing along?"
"How about no?" he shot back.
Margaerisse shrugged good-naturedly, and started to sing.
There's a lady who's sure
All that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
When she gets there, she knows
If the stores are all closed
With a word, she can get what she came for
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven.
"Sounds like a town girl for sure," the boy remarked.
She ignored the derisive tone in his voice and continued.
There's a sign on the wall
But she wants to be sure
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings
In a tree by the brook
There's a songbird who sings
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.
Ooh, it makes me wonder.
Margaerisse was a little startled when the boy started singing with her, after declaring adamantly that he wouldn't just moments ago. Gray eyes met blue. Ooh, it makes me wonder.
His voice was deep and gravelly, but it suited him, and he was growing more and more confident with each line.
There's a feeling I get
When I look to the west
And my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen
Rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who stand looking.
Ooh, it makes me wonder.
He didn't take his eyes off her for one second. She felt her cheeks grow warm under the intensity of his gaze. His personality left much to be desired, but he was certainly very good-looking. Ooh, it really makes me wonder.
And it's whispered that soon
If we call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn
For those who stand long
And the forests will echo with laughter.
The song wasn't over yet when Ms. Brubeck stepped in, snapping Margaerisse out of her trance.
"How lovely!" the teacher cried, her face shining with pleasure. "Margaerisse and Haymitch. You sound wonderful together."
So that was his name. Haymitch. She tried saying his name in her head and suddenly felt very flustered. She handed the guitar back and brushed off her skirt, not trusting herself to make eye contact.
Ms. Brubeck handed her a sheaf of paper. "Margaerisse, dear, here's the sheet music I promised to lend you. I thought it was about time you tried some jazz. But what a nice surprise walking in on you and Haymitch just now! It's been a while since you played guitar."
The boy – Haymitch – raised his eyebrows at her.
"I'm studying flute," Margaerisse felt compelled to explain to her new acquaintance. "But I grew up playing piano and guitar… and some violin."
"Well, now you're just showing off," he said.
"It's to be expected," Ms. Brubeck informed Haymitch, only half paying attention as she rummaged in her desk. "The Donners are very musical. They used to run the music shop in town."
"I thought they owned the sweet shop?" he said, looking at Margaerisse.
"That's my mother's side of the family," Margaerisse said. "My father's side used to sell musical instruments. They went out of business a long time ago." For some irrational reason, the conversation was making her terribly embarrassed. To hide her flushed cheeks, she ducked her head as she stuffed the sheet music into her binder.
"Of course," Haymitch said sarcastically. "Poor people can't afford instruments, but they can always afford candy."
"It was nice meeting you, Haymitch," Margaerisse said loudly. "I'll be going now. Thank you, Ms. Brubeck."
She was in the corridor by the time Haymitch caught up with her. "You dropped one," he said, holding up a stray page.
Margaerisse tried to yank it out of his hands, but he didn't let go and she practically fell into his arms. "Sorry, were you planning on giving it to me?" she snapped as she steadied herself. She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.
"You want me to give it to you, blondie?" he said, releasing his grip on the paper but not stepping away. "You're pretty, but you're not my type."
Margaerisse snatched it away from him. It felt like her whole body was on fire. "Don't call me blondie," she managed to say.
Haymitch cocked an eyebrow. "And so charming, too. How about I call you sweetheart?"
Margaerisse fled.
Author's postscript:
*rubs hands together* And so my plan is starting to be revealed! Not content with a love triangle, I'm working on a love quadrilateral.
Haymitch's fledgling hobby of playing guitar was inspired by Belle453's portrayal of Gale's dad in her story "Eyes On The Future" (highly recommended!).
I tried to keep Margaerisse from becoming a Mary Sue, and while I don't think I've succeeded, I hope you like her anyway.
The music teacher was named after jazz legend Dave Brubeck. May he rest in peace.
And of course, the song featured in this chapter is Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven". The bit about songbirds is very apropos, don't you think?
Up next: chapter four, in which the library suddenly becomes a very interesting place for Maysilee.
