Tying knots is like breathing. It's really that simple. Loop. Around. Under. Through. Pull tight. In. Out. In. Out. Again.
To me it's one of the most natural things in the world, but to Lana's little brother Marius it's like eating with your earlobes.
"You have to go under, not over," I explain for the tenth time when Marius fails to make a correct Carrick Bend. His tiny shoulders slump comically as he looks at the frayed rope tangled around his fingers in disgust.
"I hate tying knots," Marius complains.
"They hate tying you, too." I reply, fingers nimbly repairing a broken net.
Marius sighs. Coming from his little eleven year old body, it's the most ridiculous thing I've heard all day. "I don't want to make nets," he explains. "I want to hunt fish."
"Mar, you don't hunt fish," I snort. "You catch them. With nets, see?" I shake the one in my hands at him. He smiles, but only a little.
A disgruntled Lana had dropped Marius off at the beach with me thirty minutes earlier, grumbling about his inability to manipulate rope. I'd tried helping him coax a frayed piece of twine into various kinds of knots, but they kept turning into a tangled mess. The boy was a lost cause.
"Why'd I have to be born into a family of net-makers?" Marius whines.
"Oi!" I exclaim. "That family of net-makers has kept you well fed your entire life."
"Yeah," Marius says. "With fish." I sigh and decide to let him have it, and he cackles delightedly. "Annie, can I go swim?"
"Where are your swimming clothes?" I ask him.
Marius's face falls. "I left them at home."
"No swimming for you," I proclaim, concentrating on my net.
"But Annie," Marius starts to groan, but falls silent when a shadow casts over us.
I look up with little interest, expecting to see a cloud shaped like a pirate that Marius will describe to me in great detail for an hour and a half, but do a double take when I see Finnick Odair standing over us.
"Hullo," he smiles down at us. Marius looks up at him in awe.
It's been maybe a week since I last saw him watching me from the dock. I was hoping that week would last a lifetime.
"Hi," Marius greets. Great. Now Finnick has an excuse to stick around. Marius stands up to shake his hand, suddenly maturing to his rightful age. He introduces himself as Rye, a nickname he's been desperately trying to make stick for the past year. Finnick shakes back, a smirk on his lips. I look down at my net, trusting the two eleven year olds to amuse themselves.
I'm sadly mistaken. Marius persuades Finnick to sit with him, and while he babbles on about fish and school and who knows what else, Finnick reaches for the end of my net. I yank it away from him "What are you doing?" I demand.
"Trying to help you," Finnick explains.
"Well, don't" I say, turning away from him. Finnick lets out a low whistle, which only irritates me more. I focus on weaving the rope in and out, giving it much more attention than it needs in order to block out the conversation Marius and Finnick are having.
"Mar!" Lana calls, and he's up in a flash, running towards his big sister. I get up as quickly as I can, doing my best to not let the large net tangle. Finnick stands leisurely and stretches his arms. Lana arrives just as I've managed to scoop the large net up into my arms. She eyes the two of us, and I shoot her a look that promises death if she says anything vulgar.
"Hi," Lana says, extending her hand. "I'm Lana Keene."
"Finnick Odair," he shakes her hand firmly. "Rye here was just telling me about what a great fisherman he is."
Lana quirks an eyebrow. "Oh did he now?" She looks down at a very embarrassed-looking Marius. "Tell me about your fishing skills, Mar."
"I will," he mumbles and starts tugging on Lana's sleeve. "Later. At home. Come on, Lana!"
Lana allows herself to be dragged away and waves goodbye. I would try to wave back, but my arms are incapacitated by the net I'm holding. It's a lot heavier than I expected, and I wonder how I'm going to get home.
"Need any help with that?" Finnick asks.
"No," I scowl. As much as I'd like help, I definitely don't want his. "I'm fine."
"You don't look it," Finnick admits. "C'mon, let me carry it for you. At least for a little while."
"I'm fine," I repeat forcefully and shoulder past him, wishing my house wasn't so far away.
"No you aren't," he insists. "Your arms are shaking. Let me help you." Finnick tries to make a grab for the net and I do my best to block him without letting it fall.
"Would you just-" I start to say when the net spills out of my arms.
"Finnick!" I stop struggling with Finnick and look up to discover that I can get more annoyed. Jessamine Baxwoll stands a few yards away from us, smiling coyly. "It's so good to see you to."
An easy smile forms on his face. "Good to see you too," he trails off, hesitating. "Uh…"
"Jessamine," I supply flatly.
"Jessamine!" Finnick exclaims a bit too loudly. I roll my eyes and start gathering the bits of net that had fallen to the ground. Jessamine and I have been in the same class since we were kids, and I'm not eager to stick around. She's fake, rude, and never acts the same around any two people. She and Finnick must get along swimmingly.
"You look great," Jessamine says.
"Thanks," Finnick replies. I'm not eager to listen to their flirtations and start to back away quickly, but Finnick grabs my wrist and holds me there.
"There's a bonfire at the cove tonight," she says while I squirm quietly, trying to get away. "Will you be there?"
The Careers have a bonfire every two months on the only weekend they don't have training. Nestled in a secluded cove that the Peacekeepers didn't patrol, it was strictly limited to the Careers and popular girls like Jessamine.
And boys like Finnick.
"Sorry," Finnick says. I stop struggling and look at him in surprise. A Career bonfire sounds like Finnick's natural habitat. Why wouldn't he go? "I've already got plans. Maybe next time."
"Okay," she pouts. "I'll see you around."
Jessamine slinks forward to give Finnick a hug. He's still holding onto my wrist, but Jessamine deftly maneuvers herself until she's pressed up against his chest. Finnick doesn't react, but an uncomfortable look flashes across his face. Jessamine steps away and winks at him before waltzing off, never acknowledging me.
I mutter a profane word at her retreating figure, and Finnick chuckles. "I'm guessing you don't like her?"
"You could say that," I reply before tugging at the net that Finnick tries to hold again. "Seriously, let go. I've got it."
"Let me carry it," Finnick urges.
An intense battle of tug-of-war breaks out. Frustrated, I cry out, "Don't you have a girlfriend to go bother or something?"
Finnick shook his head. "I don't have a girlfriend," he says.
"Oh, really?" I tilt my head to the side. "I think Jessamine might be eager to hear that. Hey! Jess-"
Finnick's hand slips over my mouth before I can finish yelling her name. His other arm pulls me against his chest and he hisses in my ear, "Will you shut up?"
The nets fall out of my arms, and I attempt to wiggle away. Finnick starts to release me, but I don't realize what he's doing in time and bite down on his hand. Hard. He inhales in surprise and I quickly step away from him, flustered.
"You're awful," I spit. "Truly awful."
"Yeah," Finnick says, examining his hand. "And you're ferocious."
"Just stay away from me. Who do you think you are? And don't touch it," I seethe when Finnick has the nerve to reach for the net again.
"I was only trying to help," Finnick explains, an annoyed look on his face. "Obviously kindness revolts you. I won't make the mistake again. Sorry."
"Kindness," I snort. "That's a good one. How about arrogance? Or self-absorbed? Or mindless-"
"Careful, Cresta," Finnick interrupts, his words laced with enough venom to make me falter. "You don't want to go around saying things you don't know."
"Oh, I know." I retort.
"You don't know me," Finnick snaps.
"I know the type," I say, turning away. "And that's enough."
"No," Finnick sighs. "It's not."
Something in his tone makes me hesitate, and I look over my shoulder to see him. Finnick's eyes were sad, his mouth set in a frown. But it wasn't just how he looked, but what he'd said and the implications of it. A range of emotions of churned in my stomach and I tried to comprehend them, but none of it made sense.
So I ran.
Disclaimer: It's called fanfiction.
A/N: Hello! I hope you're having a good day. Night. Whichever. Why do I always upload things latelate my time? Oh well. I hope you liked this chapter! (I think it's a bit melodramatic but OH WELL) Constructive criticisms/telling me your favorite kind of syrup is always appreciated. Thank you to everyone who has put this story on alert! You make my day!
-Kate.
