He was gone when I woke up. Gone on Capitol business, Mags says. He'll be back in one week. Didn't he tell you?
No, Mags. He didn't tell me. When would he have time? I almost drowned last week. That makes things like forced prostitution seem like they aren't worth mentioning. At least not to a poor, sick little girl who can't keep her head above water.
I've been in a weird mood since I nearly drowned. It bothers me that I allowed myself to be overcome by the water, even if I was incapacitated from a concussion. I thought my ability to swim would be something I could always depend on. Now that I know it isn't I feel embarrassed, which gives me a brazen desire to prove myself.
So I decided to get my mother out of jail.
It went well. And by well I mean I fruitlessly sweet-talked multiple Peacekeepers for an hour and a half, all the while knowing that every word coming out of my mouth was meaningless.
"Come back in a year," Joffery Herriot advises while he shuts the door in my face. "She isn't going anywhere until then."
I seriously consider trying to break the door down until I remember I'm recovering from a concussion. And drowning. My list of ailments is ever growing. I content myself with giving the door a hard kick and muttering something profane under my breath.
"I'm guessing it didn't go well?" Lana asks gently. She had told me to meet her at the booth when I was done, but she must've gotten bored and wandered over at some point. Mar is with her, twisting a rope in his hands.
"Do you even have to ask?" I shoot the Justice Building one final glare before walking away to stand next to them.
"We'll get her out of there, Annie." Lana encourages. "It'll be okay."
"Sure," I sigh, trying to appear optimistic. We start walking toward the market, Mar babbling animatedly about a fish he claims he caught only using his hands.
"Hey Annie," I look up from the ground to see Spender walking next to me. My stomach twists with annoyance. "You look radiant."
Lana shoots me a look and grabs Mar's hand. While he tries to wriggle out of her grasp she pulls him toward their family's vending booth and mouths, "Get rid of him."
Dejected by Lana's abandonment, I groan, "What do you want, Spender?"
"Your time and attention," Spender says.
I cross my arms over my chest and rest my weight on one foot. "Fine," I concede, figuring this will be the fastest way to get rid of him. "You have two minutes."
"Only two?" he pouts. The wind blows and his brown hair falls into his eyes.
"Well not anymore," I say. "Now you have less than two minutes. That's what happens when time passes, you see."
"Thanks for enlightening me," Spender grins, not at all bothered by my insult. "I just wanted to know if I'd be seeing you at the bonfire this weekend."
"Will you be there?"
He smiles. "Of course."
"Then no," I snap and start to walk away. Spender steps in my path.
"Hold on, Cresta." He says. "You promised me two minutes."
"What makes you think my promises are worth anything?" I question. "Especially if I made them to you?"
Spender scowls. "You'd better watch what you say, Annie." He warns. "You wouldn't want to start a battle you can't win."
"You don't know anything about what I would or wouldn't do," I retort. "In case you haven't noticed: you don't know anything about me."
"Oh, but I do know a lot about you." He chuckles and steps closer to me. "Like how you like to eat up the Capitol's sloppy seconds."
"What do you mean, 'sloppy seconds'?" I feel the blood draining from my face.
"Finnick Odair, of course." There's a glint in his eyes. It's malicious, and he regards me as if I'm easy prey. "Everyone in District Four knows about you two. What are you doing, Cresta? Hoping you can get all his fame and glory without actually participating in the Games?"
"How about," I say, slowly advancing toward him until he's forced to back away. "You stop trying to use that teeny tiny head of yours and mind your own business? And if that's too hard for you you can always get one of your moronic friends to run you through with one of their swords."
Spender raises his eyebrows. "I didn't know Finnick liked his girls feisty," he says. "Must be an acquired taste from the Capitol."
"If you speak to me again," I threaten, taking one final step toward him. "I'll rip your arms off and use them as fishing bait."
"Ah, there's that vicious Cresta attitude." Spender taunts.
"Stay away from me," I seethe, shoving past him. Spender stumbles, laughing all the way. "Come on, Annie!" he calls after me. "It was just a joke. Right?"
I arrive at Lana's booth in a fury. "Let's go to the beach," I say, a fire blazing in my eyes that I know they won't say no to. "I'm sick of this place."
"Grab a net, then." Lana replies, hefting a large coil of rope into her arms. "Yikes, this is heavy. Where's Finnick when you need him, huh?"
Her weak laughter is burned out by one piercing look from me. She looks away, and my heart sinks. Calm down, Annie. Don't go and bite everyone's head off.
We reach the ocean and Mar runs toward the water, screaming something and flailing his arms. He dives into the water and Lana and I laugh.
"Are you going in?" Lana asks while she kicks off her shoes.
I wrinkle my nose. "That's okay," I say. "I'll stay out here and watch."
"Suit yourself." She runs after Marius, dunking him underwater once she reaches him. He flings himself at her and they wrestle, laughing and joking the whole time.
It makes me miss Luke.
We used to play like that. Me in Mar's position and Luke in Lana's. Even when he got older and his training became more intensive – he still found time for me.
I have to remind myself that he's dead and there's no use in missing him. The coil of rope in my pocket finds its way into my hands and I curve it into knots, letting it comfort my frustrated fingers.
"Aren't you going to eat your soup?"
I shake my head. I toy with the spoon that rests next to my bowl of soup that went cold about five minutes ago.
"You should try some," Mags says. "It's good soup."
"I know, Mags." I mumble. "I made it."
"Alright," she laughs, wiping her mouth on a napkin. "What's on your mind?"
I slip the spoon in and out of my fingers, trying to put the question that's been lingering in my mind for weeks into words. "Mags," I say finally. "When you mentored my brother did you… Did it seem like… Did he act like them?"
"You mean the Careers?" Mags asks. I nod. Her face settles into a grim line. "In some ways he did. In other ways he didn't. He was confident in his abilities. Too confident. He had a one-track mind when it came to defense and offense. But," Mags pauses and studies me across the table. "More than anything he reminded me of your father."
If I had listened to Mags' advice and eaten some of the soup, a spoonful would've splattered out of my mouth and onto the table.
"You knew my father?"
"Naturally," Mags says. "He lived with your mother and her father."
"What was he like?" I can't help but lean forward in my seat, eager to hear more.
"He was kind," Mags answers. "But he was different. He spent most of his time lost in thought. In the old days people would have called him a philosopher. Your grandfather didn't like that. He thought your father was soft. He was always telling him to go do something useful. One day he went out looking for a job and, well. You know the rest."
"No," I say. "I don't. My mother… she never told me anything about him."
"Oh," Mags seems flustered for a moment. "Well, your father was hired on as a hand for one of the larger ships that traveled out farther than all the others to gather their catch. Something went wrong, and the boat went down. About twenty men died. Your father was one of them. He was never a strong swimmer, from what I gather."
"Is that when my mother…?" I let the question trail off. I'm not sure how to word it.
"No," Mags shakes her head. "It wasn't until later."
"Right," I say. My brain is still trying to process it all, and it's getting foggy and muddled with the effort. "Thank you for-"
The telephone rings, interrupting me. "I'll get it," I start to rise from the table but Mags waves her hand at me.
"I'll answer," she dismisses. "It's my house, after all."
I sink back down into my chair, remembering that I'm a guest in this house until we can get my mother out of jail and I'm no longer in danger of being sent to a group home. My hands start playing with the spoon again, longing for rope.
"Hello?" Mags says into the receiver. "Oh, Finnick!"
My head shoots up immediately. Finnick is supposed to arrive home from the Capitol tonight. I'd almost forgotten. I tilt my head to the side to better hear the leaden sound of his voice. I can't make out words, but the smile on Mags' face slowly dissolves into a frown.
"Okay," Mags says gravely. "I'll see you in the morning."
The moment Mags hangs up the phone I release a torrent of questions. "Was that Finnick? Was his train delayed? I thought he'd be back by-" Mags raises a hand to silence me.
"I only just remembered," Mags says. "That Finnick's father was the captain of that ship. I thought you might like to know."
"Oh," I look down at my hands that slide up and down the silver spoon. "Does Finnick know?"
She shakes her head.
"Will he be back tonight?"
"Annie," Mags says. She pauses and frowns. I stand up, worried she's feeling the beginnings of a second stroke. I stop when she speaks. "Don't fret too much about this. About any of it."
She excuses herself to her bedroom and I'm left standing in the kitchen, fiddling with a lustrous spoon, wondering if she means my father or my brother.
But there's something in her weight of her words that tells me differently. She doesn't mean either of them.
She means Finnick.
There's the sound of shattering glass and then a giggle. My eyes dart open and I sit up. The couch in the living room squeaks beneath me. I know immediately that the noise didn't come from Mags' house. She could never voice something so high-pitched, and anyway, we're the only two here.
I don't feel threatened by it and rub the sleep out of my eyes. Yawning, I figure now is as good a time as any to go for my run. I find my shoes tangled in a blanket and slip them on, padding to the front door and silently shutting it behind me.
It's not as early as I thought. The moon is absent from the dark sky and it would be completely black if it weren't for the house with all of its lights turned on. Finnick's house.
He must've gotten home early and switched on the lights in an attempt to put some life into the empty house. I climb up the stairs and knock on the door, ready to open it if I don't get a response.
It screeches open and I cringe at the sound. Finnick leans against the doorway. He's only wearing a rumpled pair of underwear and a partially buttoned shirt. His hair is more tousled than usual and he holds a bottle of spirits loosely in his hand.
His face goes from shock to anger to drunken indifference. He lifts the bottle to his lips and drinks slowly, his eyes never wavering from mine. I'm about to say his name when a woman saunters up to him, sliding her hand up his chest. Her lips are dyed purple and her eyes are so large it's grotesque. There are various enhancements and additions to her appearance, but it's clear just from looking at her: she's a Capitol citizen.
"Finnick Odair, what are you doing, standing out- Oh." She notices me and has the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "Who's this?"
"Orchid Montesi," Finnick drawls, voice made slow from the alcohol. "Meet Annie Cresta. She's a neighbor."
"Hello," she blinks expectantly at me. I spare her a glance and a restricted smile. My eyes find Finnick's once again and his gaze makes me shiver.
He really is drunk. That much I can tell. But he's also angry. His sea green eyes are like the ocean before a storm, churning and waiting for the right moment to lose control. I stare back at him, lost in his eyes that are so clearly saying one word.
Leave.
"I- I uh," I stutter, looking down at the ground. "I'll see you around, Finnick."
Finnick's eyes – which had been studying me so intently before – look away. He yawns as if he's bored with the situation. "Bye."
And then he closes the door.
"Who was that?" I can hear the Capitol women's high, tinkling voice through the thin wood.
"Her?" Finnick asks. They start to walk deeper into the house, leaving me alone on the front porch. But I can still hear Finnick's response.
"No one."
Disclaimer: It's called fanfiction.
A/N: Well, that was a thing I just did. Still trying to find out why I just did it. But I guess it's one of those things I'll never understand, like how Algebra works or why potato chips are so tasty. But anyway. You guys are the greatest! Your reviews make me so, so happy. You have no idea. I wish I could give you all cookies or at least tell you who they're casting as Finnick in Catching Fire already. Seriously.
Til next time(tomorrow or tonight, probably), you wonderful, glorious people!
-Kate