Don't Look Back—Chapter 14
A/N: I'm really sorry about the wait on that last chapter; like I said: soccer season. Oh well. I cut that one a bit shorter than the others because of the long wait, if you were wondering. Also, don't worry, I'm about 98% sure that Ian won't end up with Elly. I'm thinking a different route. Prian for life, right? Okay, enjoy Ch. 14!
Chapter 14—Snapshots and Revelations
Prim's POV
"Was that strong?" I ask Cassia. She grins crookedly.
"Yeah, it was awesome. I mean, you standing up to her? That was utter awesomeness." Her face darkens. "She can't talk to everyone like that, like you weren't even there. God, what a—I can't even explain it." The corners of her mouth lift. "I'll be your sister. She's not worth a—."
"Thank you." I smile at Cass.
She really is beautiful. Her hair is a light, straight blonde, thin and soft. It runs down to right about the mid-torso. Her eyes, a light, metallic gray, are alive and buzzing with energy, framed by long black eyelashes. They shine with anticipation, happiness, and friendliness. Her cheekbones are high and her cheeks themselves become more rounded when she smiles. She's built delicately, almost like she's fragile. But Cassia is tougher than nails. If you even mention the word "petite" to her, about her frame, she will bash your face in.
Cassia sits up a little straighter. She pulls out a drawstring bag and rummages inside. "Here," she says, her voice beaming with excitement. "I got you these. I thought you might need some cheering up after the whole Katniss-is-a-big-fat-coward thing." In her hands she clutches a book. It is a very thick book, with a beautifully decorated cover. "Look inside."
The cover is adorned with flowers, loads of them. They are hand-painted. "Peeta," I whisper, fingering them. I must remember to thank him. "They're gorgeous, Cassia…"
"I didn't give you the book so you could look at the cover. Look inside!" She seems very anxious to see me open it, so I do.
There are pictures.
There are lots of pictures.
There are lots of pictures of me and Ian. There are lots of pictures of me and Cassia. There are lots of pictures of me with Peeta, me with Effie, me with T. I didn't realize that when Cass kept snapping away with her camera, this was what she wanted. I didn't even really think twice. She's been click, click, click, flashing for the past week. But how did she get the ones of me and Ian…?
A teardrop splashes on our entwined hands. I wipe my eyes quickly and glance toward Cassia. "How did you get the ones of me and Ian?" Instantly I realize I should've said thank you first and foremost.
She tosses her head back and laughs. "Can't blame you for asking: I asked the Head Gamemaker to email them to me. Plus, your mother donated some from the last few days you spent together. She was a photographing machine. You know—"
I cut her off with a huge hug. She smiles and ruffles my hair. I open my mouth to thank her times three million, but she shushes me. "You don't have to." Her eyes smile. "Just be my friend-sister, okay? That's more than enough." She stands and stretches and makes a face. "Listen, PR…"
But I hear nothing else.
All I hear is Gregg, my friend, calling me PR, and I remember him after Quinn died and I remember him being like a big brother and I remember being so worried about him after the flood and so worried when I figured we would have to kill him and I remember him disappearing after the wave and joining Samantha and I remember hurling a knife at him and hitting him square in the head, and I hear Samantha screaming and I hear everyone and everything wailing, and I hear myself sobbing even though he was a freaking traitor...
And when I remember Gregg I remember Quinn, the most beautiful and pure and perfect person I will ever know, so innocent and funny, and I remember her finding me in the tree and calling up to me and I remember being so cautious but with Quinn you never had to be cautious you just had to be able to make someone laugh, and she excelled at that, and I remember her painting the sunset and I remember her fiery-auburn hair sprinkled with gold and I remember her eyes, her constant color changing eyes, from blue to green to gray and back again, and I feel tears come and I feel myself releasing all the memories I held back for two and a half to three years, and I see Quinn sacrificing herself for me.
"Primrose! PRIMROSE! Oh my god, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Cassia is standing in front of me, looking concerned. She is my Quinn. She is my new Quinn. And I start bawling.
"I-i-it's just…I h-had a friend in the G-G-Games called Gr-Gregg, and h-he called me P-PR, and h-he betrayed m-me and I-Ian and he had this p-p-perfect friend named Q-Quinn, and she was my b-best friend, C-Cass, and she s-sacrificed hers-self for m-me…"
She smacks one hand to her forehead while the other is held over her mouth, quivering. "I am so stupid," she says in a low voice. "I am so, so sorry, Prim, and I promise I'll never call you—call you what I did again."
I shake my head, sniff, and swallow the stutters. "It's okay. I just haven't—I just haven't…allowed myself to think of them in three years, Cass…and I remember how much I loved them."
She eyes me with something that's not pity, and I am thankful for that, but what she eyes me with scares me.
She eyes me with empathy.
"When I was little," she begins, her voice strong but soft, "I was abused. By my parents, I was hit and kicked and beaten by both of my parents.
"My mother was addicted to spending the night with men, if you get my gist. She was always somewhere with some guy, and that guy might have been my dad, but probably not. My dad wasn't even bothered by it. He'd say, 'that's the way the cookie crumbles; I guess' and crack himself up when my mother would come home, adorned with rumpled clothes and smelling of alcohol. She wasn't an alcoholic, no, and I guess that's lucky. But she was terrible. I'd say something mouthy—can you imagine me, keeping quiet about all this?—or I'd just do something, anything she didn't like in the slightest way, and she'd say in a very dangerous, very low voice, 'Do not disappoint me more than you already have, Cassia' and hit me, smack me, drag me downstairs and threaten to lock me there for a week. I was afraid, too afraid to call the Peacekeepers. I was a cowardly little girl, except for when it came to tattling, and who likes a tattletale, anyway?
"My father was not an addict. My father had some anger issues. Just like with my mother, he'd scream at me over pointless things, like not tying my shoelaces or saying 'no'. Except he was worse, my father, he had OCD and ADHD and some really severe anger thingies floating around in his cells and brain. He was much worse. He'd grab a belt and beat me, or make me sleep outside in January, or sometimes just all out right-hook, left-hook, and KO trick.
"But the sad thing is, sometimes I loved them. Sometimes, when my father would whistle as he read the paper and then go out and make a really nice dinner for me, when he wasn't mad, and then smile and show me his baseball cards, or when my mother would take me shopping and put on my makeup and ask me how she looked, and then take us for manicures and massages and it would be a Spa Day, miraculous Spa Days. Those days were rare. That was usually when I hadn't disappointed them in a really long time."
Her eyes shine with unshed, hidden tears, just like mine, and I hug her and she hugs me and we march off to the control room, starting to put away our memories again.
We're less than one hundred miles from Ian's location.
Ian's POV
Elly hasn't spoken to me in two days, and to be honest, I'm kind of okay with that. After all the awkwardness and weirdness of The Kiss, I don't even really want to talk to her right now.
She loves you.
But I love Primrose.
She's your friend.
But she won't talk to me!
She made a mistake.
She's jealous!
That's because she loves you.
I see no ends to any arguments with myself. I just need a break.
I was let out of the hospital yesterday, and I didn't need a wheelchair, and I could walk just fine, thank you very much security guards, and I was very happy to go back to my days of staring out the window at clouds that look like President Snow's beard.
I was expecting Elly to come shrieking out of the bushes "YOU'RE CURED! YOU'RE CURED! YOUR GIGANTIC HEAD IS CURED!" and hug me and try to kiss me again, but I found stone-cold, rock-solid silence. The usual electricity that crackled while she was around was gone, nowhere. It was just gone.
So I sit and think of Primrose.
Her eyes are so blue, sky blue. She is not unlike the sky: unending and free. Her hair, in two low ponytails, interwoven with brown and blond, is the kind of color you can't call "dirty" blond. Her lips, so soft, so warm, like they were welcoming me; I remember kissing them and loving her. She does not give off electricity, she gives off warmth and security and comfort. She gives off love.
I remember kissing her as the Wave came crashing over on us, and I remember kissing her as we went under, and I remember her fist in my shirt, pulling me to the air. She saved my life, and I left Twelve.
How could they?
"Primrose," I whisper. I feel the tears come and I'm left, sobbing in my Victor's Village house, so empty, and I think of how perfect it would be if she walked through the door right now, right now, and kissed me and said hello.
I want her to call me, but she doesn't answer. I know it's because she's afraid of the tracking, but why? Is she keeping something from me? God, it's frustrating, but I'm not mad at her. I'm mad at the Capitol. I'm furious with them. I want to stomp on their faces.
Everything is just wrong. Without her, everything is wrong. Everything is dull and silent and nothing is fun in the slightest way. Everything is just wrong. She lights up my world. She gives me life. I am slowly dying without her.
"I need you," I whisper to the vase of dried primroses I bought so long ago. "I need her." My tears sting my cheeks and my nose burns. She would kiss me and take my hand and run a hand through my hair and I would feel better.
I just need someone.
Prim's POV
"We will be approaching Mr. Reseda's location in THIRTY MINUTES!" Cassia screams.
I scream and shout and yell because soon
I will see my love again
And it will be wonderful.