The Ocean Rolls Us Away
Chapter 11: Annie
My expectations about training had been greatly changed after I lodged a knife into that dummy's heart. I never even thought that I would be able to do something like that. It just seemed too impossible. But I had, and suddenly I realized that I had been wrong, and that Finnick had been right. He had said that somehow he would find my strengths and he had. However, my knife throwing skills were not enough to satisfy him.
"Just wait until you see what I have planned for tomorrow." He said smiling after we had thrown a few more knives.
I personally wasn't leaping with joy at the thought of more training, but at the same time I wasn't scared like I had been before.
Still, I didn't think that I would win. The other tributes were bigger and better than I was. Plus I knew that if it came down to Martin and I as the final two, neither of us would be able to make the kill. So I had resolved to somehow make sure that I died early on, and then Martin would be the victor. He would return home to our mother and our younger brothers Cinnian and Bress. He would be a champion, a hero that Panem deserved, and honestly I was beginning to be okay with that.
When the training day was done, Finnick and I boarded the elevator.
"I still can't believe that I did that." I whispered to my self as we rode up to our suite.
"I can." He replied almost immediately, and I looked up meekly to see him smiling at me. Internally, my heart started to flutter, because just from the look in his eyes I could tell that he was absolutely serious.
"How did you know?" I asked him suddenly, my curiosity overcoming me.
He looked at me with a perplexed expression. "Know what?"
"That I would be able to do it." I said quietly as I continued to look at him.
He paused for a moment and diverted his eyes from mine.
"Because," He paused before looking back up at me, "You're your father's daughter."
I didn't say anything in response and simply nodded my head because I was suddenly filled with unexpected emotions. I had always thought that I had somehow managed to never inherit any of my father's traits, and yet for some reason Finnick thought that I had.
It was becoming clear to me that Finnick knew me better than I knew myself, and he had only truly known me for a few days. Why could he read me so well when I thought that I hid everything so deeply? Maybe the truth was that I wasn't actually hiding anything at all, and the thought of that made fear rise up in my bones.
When Finnick and I stepped off of the elevator we were greeted with great animation from Mitchlin. He ran over to us and threw his arms out in a wide gesture.
"Ah, and here they are!" he grabbed onto each of our hands and squeezed them tightly. "How was training? You must be famished! Good thing dinner is ready!" He smiled and then jovially strode over to the dining table. Finnick and I shared a quick glance, and then followed Mitchlin to the table.
Martin and Mags were already seated, and talking quietly about the success of training. When Finnick, Mitchlin and I joined them, they looked up at us with soft smiles on their faces.
"How was training?" Mags asked Finnick with a sudden flash of concern in her eyes, yet a smile still resting on her face.
"It was great. Annie's a natural with knives." Finnick turned his head to me and winked along with a smile.
I couldn't help myself from smiling in response. It was becoming apparent to me that Finnick and I were going to be friends.
"Really?" Martin looked up at me in shock and I shrugged my shoulders with a slight grin.
"Yes," I turned to Finnick sheepishly. "Somehow he pulled the fighter out of me." A small grin formed at the corners of Finnick's lips as I spoke, and I felt strangely happy as we all sat down to eat.
During our meal, I was happily enjoying my mashed potatoes when suddenly Finnick nudged my arm under the table. I looked up at him abruptly and with his eyes he gestured towards Mitchlin. Slowly I turned my head in Mitchlin's direction to find him unconsciously stroking his eyebrows with his fork while chewing flamboyantly. Immediately a laugh began to lurch up my throat, but I quickly covered my mouth with my hand to prevent my laugh from escaping from my lips.
I glanced up at Finnick again as I struggled not to laugh, and saw that he was stifling in a laugh too. This made it all the more difficult for me not to burst out hysterically, and it became even worse when Mitchlin looked up at us both with a jovial expression and asked, "What's so funny?"
Neither Finnick or I could answer him without letting lose our awaiting laughter, so we both remained silent. This caused Mitchlin to get upset and the jovial expression on his face became serious. "I am not joking, what's all the fuss about?"
I quickly glanced up at Mitchlin and saw that he still had his fork rested on his eyebrows. Suddenly I couldn't control my self any longer, and a quiet giggle escaped from my lips. Instantly my hand once again flew to my mouth and I could feel my cheeks burning red with my embarrassment.
Everyone at the table then stopped and stared at me. As I felt shame under their gazes I could faintly hear what sounded like snickering right beside me. I turned to Finnick and saw that he was shaking his head, and no longer trying to contain his laughter. With a large smile he looked up at me and our eyes met. Before either of us was really aware of what was happening, we both burst into uncontrollable laughter. This sent Mitchlin over the edge.
"What is so funny!" He exclaimed suddenly pounding his chubby fists on the table. However his outburst didn't faze us, and we only continued to laugh harder and harder. We actually were laughing so much that I found myself leaning on Finnick for support so that I wouldn't fall out of my chair.
"What is it!" Mitchlin suddenly stood up abruptly from his chair and clenched his hands on his hips. Finnick and I immediately stopped laughing and our smiles disappeared.
"Well," He continued with a heavy and loud voice. "I'm obviously very amusing to you!" His arms flew around in rapid movements which caused his face to turn bright red. Then he pulled out his chair and stormed off to his room.
Finnick and I both glanced at each other, while Mags and Martin awkwardly resumed eating without Mitchlin.
While we were eating in silence, a smile suddenly formed at the corners of Mag's lips.
"The best part was when his face turned as red as his tuxedo." She smirked to herself, and we all cracked at least a small smile, while the awkwardness in the room suddenly dissipated.
