Wildfire: Chapter 4
HEY.
*awkotaco silence*
I'M SORRY!
I'm a terrible person. I'm so sorry I lied about updating, but that wasn't my fault. So don't come after me with pitchforks and torches. Go for my parents. They were the ones who got all pissed and threw a hissy fit at me because I was trying to finish writing at like 10:30. I'm just like, "Goddamnit, I'm TRYING TO WRITE." Eh. Either way, the crappiest updater in the entire history of crappy updaters in Fanfiction is back. Seriously, guys, this is like the quickest update ever. Whoa. Now that I think about it, that's really sad. And I am pissed right now because of my fucking Spanish teacher. Screw that bitch. Anyway, I was motivated by listening to "Baby Blue Eyes" by A Rocket to the Moon. Old song, but an awesome song. Check it out. :) Title is from that song too. Guess what? We're getting closer to the Claire/Cam chapters. :) And I'd like to thank all of those who support this story, although I know sometimes it's really shitty and I never update, so you people who put up with me are amazing. Here's to: parachute hearts (Lily), psychotic honeybadger of death (Sarah), and DreamCatcherGirlie39. Love ya all. So, all my awesomeness aside, here's the chapter. Enjoy.
Love,
Anastasia
.:She Wears Heels, and Always Falls:.
Derrick Harrington, age 13, District 4
The sun is still sleeping and the stars are glowing faintly against the midnight blue sky as I quietly walk into the training center. I pause, and I hear her. Massie. I involuntarily smile when I hear her throwing knifes at the foam dummy. When I close my eyes, I can just imagine her- stunning amber eyes burning with determined fire, silky chestnut hair tucked into a ponytail, tan leather jacket shrugged carelessly on her slim shoulders, soft pillowy pink lips pursed in concentration, a large collection of sharp projectiles in her right hand, left hand drawn back, gripping a knife. I know that that's exactly what she looks like now, because I've memorized her throughout the monthshoursminutesseconds that I've spent studying her, drinking in the sweet scent of her lingering mango and coconut shampoo. I hear sounds of the foam figure being punctured, each time exactly at either the heart or the brain. She never misses. Then, I hear the sound of a knife whizzing through the air, and a shout.
"FUCK!" That had to be her. She must have missed. I slowly peer in the spacious room, only daring to take a little peek; unless I'd like a knife embedded in my body. She didn't miss, but she did cut herself. I see a long gash, bloody and torn, extending all the way from the base of her wrist to the side of her middle finger. Ouch, that looked like it hurt. I watch her as she stomps angrily with her black combat boots and throws down the bunch of knives in her right hand to carefully examines the damage. I see her gently touching the tender wound, and something tugs on my heart. But I suck it up and plaster a cocky smile on my face as I lean against the door frame, chuckling at her clumsiness.
"I never thought I'd see the day where the great Massie Block would cut herself," I said, smirking tauntingly. I knew that would set her off. It was amusing, really, watching her fight and argue. I could tell she really wanted to plunge a knife into my heart from the way her fierce amber eyes were narrowing as she glared at me. God, she was even beautiful when she was glaring and scowling at me.
No, Harrington, suck it up. Massie Block is not good enough for you. Yes, you cheated on her, but that was for good reason. Right? Right.
"Why are you here, Harrington?" She spat, hate evident in her tone.
"Same reason you are." Okay, that was a lie. I was supposed to train, but I just ended up stalking her over her at four in the morning. Well then.
"Please. Don't expect me to believe that you showed up at exactly four in the morning because you wanted to train." Damn it. She knew me. She knew that I preferred sleeping in and lazing around than waking up before the sun rose to train.
"Chill, Block. I'm not here to humiliate you. I just got here," I said, mustering up as much arrogance as I could fake at four in the morning with just me and Massie Block.
"Unless you'd like me to throw a knife into your brain, I suggest you shut up and leave me alone." That's what I was expecting. That's the answer I always got when I tried to at least converse in a friendly manner. That's a lie too. Goddamnit what is with me today? I never really do try to be friendly to her, I'm just usually pretending to be cocky and superior, mainly because I'm scared that if I'm nice to her, she'll figure out that I still have feelings for her.
"Anger management much," I say, risking to mumble it under my breath. It took all of my very little self-control to not grin like an idiot when I see her annoyed expression. I bounded across the squishy gym floor towards the wall mounted with various equally deadly forms of spears and swords and other sharp pointy things. No shit. I'm in a weapon room, obviously everything's gonna be sharp and pointy. Goddamnit, why am I such an idiot today?
I pretend to practice spearing a dummy through the heart at fifteen yards while watching Massie. I knew I could spear the dummy at fifteen yards in my sleep. I watch as she bends down to pick up the discarded knives, forgetting that her hand was injured. I wince as the tip of a particularly deadly looking number digs into her wound. Some swear words were definitely on the way.
"SHIT!" Massie shouted, trying not to cringe from the pain as she tried to stem the blood flow. I think she's going to be fine, but then she begins to look really pale and she starts to sink to the floor. I throw my spear to the ground and sprint over to her. Massie looks like she's about to faint, but she still looks beautiful. Goddamnit, how does she do it? How does she make me; big-shot Derrick Harrington, feel completely...unconfident? I wrap my arms around her, supporting her weight as I tried to help her up. She pulls away from me, and immediately drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Ignore that, it was a horrible analogy. Hell, how did I even think of that? I scoop her up and carry her- bridal style, to the infirmary and gently placed her on a chair, treating her like she was fragile china. I carefully clean up her bloody hands with warm water, trying not to hurt her. My heart clenches a tiny bit when I see her wince when I apply the rubbing alcohol and antibiotic cream. I can tell she's watching me, through half-closed eyes. I wrap white bandage around her injury and watch her carefully.
A strand of her wavy chestnut hair falls from her ponytail, sweeping in front of her left eye. Her hand starts to fly up to fix it, but I brush it back gently as I stare into her eyes. Her eyes are a lovely shade of amber, like grain fields of District 11. You don't see that eye color much, and yes, it does get pretty scary when she glares at me, but I like it when she glares at me; because you can see the flecks of gold in those dazzling eyes. I'm about to get lost into her eyes when she breaks contact and stands up to leave, muttering a barely audible word of thanks on her way out. I close my eyes and think, I wish I didn't screw things up between us.
When I'm back home, it's nearly noon. Almost time for reapings. I jog into the kitchen for a quick bite to eat after ditching my sneakers in my room. My mother is straightening things up around the kitchen while Sammi is digging through the pantry.
"What the hell?! How come there's like no food in here? Derrick, did you eat all of it?!" Sammi yells the minute she hears me striding into the kitchen. I shrug noncommittally.
"Maybe I did," I reply smugly, grinning at her as I hand her a box of sugary cereal from the cupboard. Sammi scrunches up her tiny nose like a bunny and shakes her head.
"Ew, that stuff is so fattening and sugary. Do you know how much sugar there is in that shit?" Sammi comments as I dump the colorful rings into a bowl filled to the brim with milk. I shrug again and begin to dig in to my sugarfest. Sammi rolls her eyes- she looks so much like Massie when she does that- and continues her mission of finding something edible. My father strides in, reading the sports section of the CaptiolNews paper. He looks so much like me. We've go the same floppy dirty blonde hair and that lazy grin that drives girls crazy. Except he's got twinkling cobalt blue eyes when I've got my mother's puppy dog brown eyes. Sammi and I both have our mother's eyes. I study my sister as she finally sits down with a half of a piece of whole wheat toast with a tiny bit of tuna smeared on it. Her long blonde waves are a light, beach blonde, unlike my dirty blonde mop. Her hair's naturally wavy, just like Massie's. What the hell, stop thinking about Massie!
Sammi's eyes are light brown, and we look almost identical. Except for the fact that I'm a guy and she's three years older than me. She notices me staring at her and gives me a strange look.
"Derrick, why the hell are you staring at me like that? It's freaky. Stop that," She says in an annoyed tone. God, she sounds just like Massie. Damn. I can tell that behind her annoyed tone, she's worried. About both of us. She's sixteen, and she has six slips in this year. I'm thirteen, with only three slips.
"Sammi, stop worrying. We're gonna be fine," I mutter as I pass her to put my bowl in the sink. I smirk as I watch her eyes widen in surprise and her expression relaxes a little. I grab the soccer ball next to the couch and head out back to kick it around. I was bored. I wanted to invite someone over, but I just didn't have any friends. Let me rephrase that. Of course, I, the ever-amazing Derrick Harrington would have a ton of friends, but none of those people are my real friends. There's this one guy, but he died in a car crash two years ago, so I'd rather not mention him. But it's hard to forget. I kind of just juggle the ball around idly. Of course, I immediately start to think about Massie.
Her eyes are really pretty- amber. Like...maple syrup, or honey. I like her eyes- I mean they're really cool and all, especially when the gold flecks. But you don't usually see those gold flecks unless she's glaring at you. And she glares at me a lot. And sometimes, she's really scary when she's glaring at me. Yeah. But sometimes, I just wanna stare into those amber eyes of hers and- OKAY FUCKING STOP IT NOW.
Her skin is really smooth and pale. It's like...peaches and cream. And her cheeks. I guess her cheeks are cool too. I guess. Cuz they're kinda smooth and rosy-looking, and sometimes I just wanna touch her cheeks and- OH MY FUCKING GOD.
Her lips. Yeah. Her lips are so pink, and soft. It's like…a pillow. Eh. That sounded really weird. And when she laughs, smiles, or smirks, her lips curl up, and she looks really sweet and pretty. When she scowls at me too, because she usually just smirks or scowls at me. She used to smile at me a lot, but now she fucking hates me. And I don't blame her. But sometimes I wish I could just grab her and kiss her, and- SERIOUSLY THIS IS STUPID STOP THINKING ABOUT KISSING MASSIE BLOCK, GODDAMNIT.
I don't realize that I'm lost in thought until the soccer ball bounces off my shin and thwacks me in the face. Real smooth, Harrington. Sammi opens the glass door and looks at me funny. I think I might have a bruise.
"Derrick, we're leaving for reaping soon. Go get changed." She's already wearing a flattering mint green dress with a thin gold braided belt wrapped around her thin torso. Her blonde wavelets are held back with a thick mint green headband with a bow. I smile, and she gives me another weird look.
"Derrick, why are you smiling?"
"You look pretty, sis. For once," I say, smirking as I stroll in the house. She scowls and- what the fuck she looks so much like Massie when she does that- then punches me on the arm.
"Shut up, you little asshole," She retorts jokingly. I wonder what Massie's gonna wear to reaping… I jog to my room and change into black trousers and a dark blue button up shirt- the same color as my father's eyes. I'm struggling with the tie while walking into the living room when Sammi suddenly rips the tie from my hands.
"Hey!"
"Little bro, you're going to reapings, not a funeral."
"Well, it might as well be a funeral."
"Just, just- don't wear the fucking tie."
"Fine, God."
"Jesus, what's up with you?"
"Nothing."
The ride to the town square is spent in comfortable, yet uneasy silence. Sammi inspects her French manicure and nervously smooths her dress. When the car stops, I quickly jump out and start looking for Massie. I see her immediately, looking awkward and uncomfortable a pretty silky coral dress and matching wedges. She's stunning. But I knew she wouldn't voluntarily wear this. Her mother obviously forced her into that girly get up, because the Massie I knew (and loved), hated girly shit. I watch her walking into a group of ridiculously dressed girls in slutty, showy attire. I watch her argue with Celestia Tarrowen, (ugh) and I snort as I watch Massie insult Celestia and Celestia looks shocked and offended. Celestia was the leader of a gang of supposedly "fashionable" goons. She was in love with me, and she hated Massie for dating me. But seriously- I felt like I had to take a shower every time I was around Celestia. She was that bad.
Massie's attention suddenly turns to the boys' area. Who was she looking for? Is it me? She sees me, and our eyes meet. For the first time since she dumped me, she didn't break away as soon as our eyes met.
Soft caramel melts into fiery amber.
Fierce amber clings to warm caramel.
Then she breaks away, her cheeks slightly pink. Was she really looking for me? Why was she blushing? I instinctively cover my ears when I hear the sharp sound of a microphone. The annoyingly high pitched noise also forces my attention away from Massie, and to our fucking ugly-ass crazy-looking rainbow of an escort. I'm not fucking with you, our escort is a fucking rainbow.
"Hi everyone! My name is Bubble, and I'm your escort!" She giggles loudly into the microphone. Bubble; really? Honestly, I expected her name to be Rainbow. Her ankle-length hair is dyed a rainbow of colors, and I can't fucking tell red from pink in that mess. There were colors in her hair that I had never even vaguely heard of. Her skin is also dyed rainbow, like it's seriously a fucking rainbow. She's a walking, talking, fucking rainbow. Don't even get me started on her eyes. I'm 99.9% sure that those swirling rainbow irises are contacts. Who knows; they do all kinds of crazy shit in the Capitol?
"Girly girls first!" She chirps, and I can see Massie trying not to barf at the thought of being called a "girly girl". Rainbow- I'm gonna call her that; because it suits her so fucking well- reaches deep inside of the big clear bowl and picks up a slip of paper with her- you guessed it- rainbow nails. See? The name Rainbow suits her way better than Bubble. Rainbow unfolds the slip, and I pray for Massie and Sammi's safety. PLEASE DON'T BE MASSIE OR SAMMI, PLEASE DON'T BE MASSIE OR SAMMI, PLEASE DON'T BE MASSIE OR SAMMI, PLEASE DON'T BE MASSIE OR SAMMI, DEAR GOD IF YOU'RE THERE, DON'T FUCKING LET IT BE MASSIE OR SAMMI.
"CELESTIA TARROWEN!"
I will be honest. I tried my very hardest not to start jumping up and down for joy and crying tears of happiness. Seriously. That was before. Before Massie fucking volunteered.
Her hand shot up in the air, and I immediately knew what she was going to say. Well, if she's going, then I'm going. I'm not letting her go AGAIN. My hand shot up as well, and I hear myself shouting the words in unison with Massie.
"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"
Massie looks bewildered, then confused and annoyed. Her eyes meet mine again. Burning with determination, smoldering with passion. Yet her eyes are sad, and uncertain too. It makes me want to run to her and wrap my arms around her. Rainbow's fucking weird eyes widen with anticipation.
"Well, come on up, you two!" She warbles, spinning around dizzily like a ballerina reject. She's even worse than Sammi, and that's saying something. I fall in step with Massie as we solemnly walk towards the stage. Towards our deaths. Rainbow practically jams her hand into Massie's and shakes it violently. I smirk as I watch Massie struggle to regain her hand as soon as possible with minimal exposure to Rainbow's "cooties". Then our escort grips my hand and practically tries to rip my arm right out of its fucking socket when she shakes it. Damn. I rip my hand away from it's. Then Rainbow tries to shove the fucking microphone up Massie's nose,
"What are your names?" She finally asks, realizing that she didn't know our names.
"Massie Block."
"And you, sweetheart?" Fuck, was she trying to hit on me? Goddamnit, that just scarred me for life.
"Derrick Harrington."
Rainbow clamped her hands on our wrists and threw them into the air.
"MASSIE BLOCK AND DERRICK HARRINGTON, TRIBUTES OF DISTRICT 2!"
Then we're gone.
My mother is crying softly in a corner while my father just looks sad and depressed. I'm immediately hit by a pang of guilt, but not before I'm hit by something else. Remorse and Sammi's slap. I clutch my cheek, jaw hanging in disbelief.
"What the hell, Sammi? What was that for?"
"FOR FUCKING VOLUNTEERING!"
"Sammi, I'm sorry- but I just-just wanted to do something worthwhile."
"GETTING YOURSELF FUCKING KILLED IS WORTHWHILE?! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FUCKING VOLUNTEERED! YOU KNEW HOW WORRIED I WAS FOR THE BOTH OF US- BUT OH NO- YOU GO AND FUCKING VOLUNTEER!"
I'm speechless. I guess I didn't really think about how this would impact my family. Sammi stops screaming and begins to cry, and my parents engulf me in a big hug. Sammi joins in, and before I know it, I'm crying too. The white uniformed Peacekeeper is at the door.
"I love you." We all whispered in unison.
And then, my family leaves.
Forever.
At least I have Massie.
Right?
This time, this time I'll show her that I'll do whatever it takes to get her back.
And keep her.
That's the hard part.
And I have no fucking idea how I'm gonna do it.
Okay, I finally finished.
That, is a truly great accomplishment.
Yay.
So here's the story so far:
There's one girl that's given up hope, one boy that's unsure and scared, one girl that will do anything to come home, even if it means killing the only person she could be happy with, and one boy who's in it for the love of his life.
So here are the tributes! And yes, I am still accepting OCs. Submit as many as you want. The more the merrier!
District 1: Alicia Rivera and Joshua Hotz
District 2: Massie Block and Derrick Harrington
District 3: Kristen Gregory and Kemp Hurley
District 4: Claire Lyons and Cameron Fisher
District 5: Dylan Marvil and Christopher Plovert
District 6: Layne Abeley and Dempsey Solomon
District 7: Skye Hamilton and Dune Baxter
District 8: still open
District 9: Allison Amber Hasden (DreamCatcherGirlie39) and Bennet Timothy Tyson (parachute hearts)
District 10: still open
District 11: Vivian Lea Prince (parachute hearts) male is still open
District 12: still open
OMFG OMFG OMFG GUYS HELP ME I DON'T KNOW WHAT ALLIANCES I SHOULD DO!!
Well, I was thinking that the canon characters band together but then someone betrays them and then yeahhhh...
So PM me alliances/romances I should do!
And yes, Claire and Cam are a given. *cough* psychotic honebadger of death (Sarah) *cough*
Love you all, my lovelies.
REVIEW.
OR MAY YOU BE BESET UPON BY A PACK OF JELLY BABIES. (From "The Serpent's Shadow")
Kay, bye loves.
WAIT.
DON'T FORGET TO VOTE ON THE POLL ON MY PROFILE!
Kisses.
