Johanna curses in this one, so heads up. I hope she's not out of character. :S
Chapter 7 - The People We Used To Be{Katniss}
If there's one thing that hasn't changed in Johanna Mason over the years, it's her sharp tongue.
"I swear to all the lumber gods, I'll kill Plutarch the next time I see him," she snarls, heading for the roughly carved wooden bench outside her cottage. "I swear that I'll take the biggest axe I can find and shove it up his—"
She growls in frustration and sits down hard, the wood creaking from her anger.
"So there are lumber gods now?" I ask, stifling my laugh.
"Why, yes, dear, there are lumber gods living upstairs, and they'll kick your ass if you're mean to the pretty trees," Johanna snaps, boiling over with sarcasm. "Goddamn, you're even more annoying than the last time I saw you."
She scowls harder and curls her fingers into the knees of her overalls. I come over and sit next to her.
Johanna reaches across me into a bag I hadn't noticed and pulls out two bottles of beer.
"I don't drink," I tell her.
Johanna shrugs, and pops off the cap with a flick of her thumb. "Suit yourself." She takes a swig and gasps. "Yum."
"Is it too late to change my mind about that beer?" I say.
Johanna grins smugly and tosses me the other bottle. I open my bottle and take a sip.
"How's the kid?" she asks out of the blue, flipping her head around so fast that a stray lock of brown hair whips out and smacks my face.
"Which one?"
"You know who I'm talking about, Everdeen," Johanna says, jerking her head in the opposite direction again, so her hair forms a curtain of brown between my view and her face. "Don't fuck around."
And I do. All the times I called her, not knowing where she was staying or what she was doing, she only ever asked about one kid. A kid with bronze hair and sea-green eyes.
"He won the school fishing competition a while back," I say. "Swimming, too, a couple of months ago. He took up an apprenticeship with the local fishermen."
Johanna nods and takes another gulp. "How'd you get Heavensbee's number, by the way?" she asks.
"He gave it to me before he left for Three," I say. "Told me not to be a stranger."
Johanna scoffs. "Typical airy-fairy Capitol bullshit, then."
We sit in silence, but not an awkward silence, to my relief. After a beat, Johanna sets her bottle on the bench and turns to me, leaning her arm on the backrest.
"So," she says, her face suddenly turning cheerful, so sunny that it unsettles me. "What's new in your life, Everdeen? Don't tell me your mentor got Lover Boy a new baking tray for his birthday."
"I'll be sure to tell you if he does."
"Answer my question."
I sigh. Now that I'm here, I can't seem to get it out.
"You remember Gale?" I ask, fingering my bottle.
Her nose wrinkles. "Yeah. Hawthorne. Tall guy. Hot, I guess. But not my type. Why?"
I swallow hard. "He came back. To Twelve."
"So?" Johanna throws her head back and stretches languidly, like a cat. "What's the problem with that?"
"I haven't seen him in fifteen years. And the last time we saw each other was after Prim—" I wince and correct myself. "After the Capitol fell."
But Johanna still manages to catch my sister's name.
"Hold up," she says, raising a finger. "So the reason you don't know how to handle the fact that he's back, is that your sister died because of him?"
I nod, grateful that she's helped me put what I've been skirting around into words. Johanna never did beat around the bush, a habit which mostly resulted in what I felt was devastating social destruction. I used to find it chafing. But now, I find myself feeling glad that she doesn't clip her words.
"You remember the Quell?" she asks. "The screaming birds?"
"Yeah." My mind flashes back to the unseen jabberjays around our group, to Johanna as she had been then, her face hard while I reeled from the shock of hearing my sister's voice. There's no one left I love.
"It was a lie," she says, and I can hear her reluctantly lowering the walls she's built up, just a little bit. "Honestly? I started freaking out just as bad as you did when the screams started. But then I looked around and I saw. He was screaming. Just not for me."
She chews her lip and stares at her gloves, chucked carelessly on the ground next to her grounded axe.
"You've mellowed," I say, because I don't know how else to provide comfort to someone who doesn't want any of it.
Johanna's face instantly changes, and she slaps me on the back of my head. "Watch your mouth, Everdeen. I'm a Victor of District Seven, and I can kick your ass as easily as I can chop down a tree. So don't play."
I decide against telling her that I'm a Victor of District Twelve who can hit her in the eye with an arrow as easily as I can carry a good tune.
"I survived an arena full of bloodthirsty brats and starving, desperate waifs when I was a kid," Johanna muses. "Survived my entire family being murdered just for my refusal to give in to a perverted old man. Went through stupid dunk tank sessions with electric shocks thrown in for that extra punch of fun. Multiple times. And after all that, I couldn't do that one little thing." She scoffs again. "It's so stupid. I can kill people with an axe, but I can't tell a guy that I'm in love with him."
"Yeah," I say, starting to suspect where this conversation is heading.
"So unless you're going to let me keep on calling you stupid indirectly, pull yourself together and make up," she chides. "Like, I know you don't love love him, as in, you friend love him. And I also know," she continues, "that you can't bring yourself to be pissed at him, right?"
I let her words hang in the air.
"I guess you're right."
"Obviously," Johanna smirks. "Now go, before I kick your sorry ass back onto the train for you."
I stand and hold out my hand, and she squints down at it like I'm handing her a glittery pink unicorn.
"Whatever," I say. "See you, Johanna."
She cringes at me, hard enough that I know she doesn't mean it.
"Just get going already, Girl on Fire," she grits, shooing me with both hands, and with one last wave, I'm on my way again, back home.
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