37. So Cold
"You look beautiful." Annie commented, watching as Mal inspected herself in the mirror. Ivory had listened to Annie's suggestion and made Mal's Chariot outfit perfectly. They were aiming for beautiful, subtle sex appeal, and innocent. Mal had on a dress that mimicked the ocean. When she moved, the garment looked like waves crashing and water swaying. "Wow. Ivory, I'm so impressed." Annie watched in awe. Mal's hair was swept to one side, sea shells hung in a lovely wave of curls.
Ivory, who was also Annie's stylist during her Games, looked pleased with herself. "Well, you said elegant, slightly sexy but still innocent...and while it took me a while to come up with it, I think I achieved the goal." Annie smiled at her, "you exceeded the goal. Thank you for caring enough to listen to me and work so hard at this."
Mal shook her head, "It's great Ivory, but it's not going to make me win, so could we stop talking about it so you can tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do." Mal had been snappy since they arrived in the Capitol, but who was Annie to give a lesson on attitude? Especially to a girl who was about to enter a deadly arena.
"You stand in the chariot and you wave. I want you to smile and blow kisses and act like a little girl who's overjoyed to be in the Capitol." Mal gave her a look. "I know, but if you want to get any sponsors it's the only way."
"Fine." Mal answered, "I'll act like every face in that audience isn't signing my death sentence." Annie nodded, "Good. Do that. And from now on, hold on to that anger. Bottle it all up inside of you. Then, when you hear the end of the countdown while you're in there, let it out. Run like hell. Find weapons. Kill. Survive."
Mal looked down at her hands. She'd been acting so tough lately, like a warrior, so this moment of vulnerability surprised Annie. Maybe it was just the clothes and the make-up. Mal looked younger, her hair, the outfit, her flawless skin. Annie straightened up, knowing that showing sympathy wouldn't get them anywhere. She couldn't regret the words she'd said, Mal needed to hear them.
Annie stepped out of the room, wanting to give Mal a minute. She saw Finnick across the hall and crossed her arms. "Did you do what you needed to do?" she asked; her voice cold. Finnick nodded slowly, "Three Capitolites agreed to sponsor Mal. And I got two for Shaw."
"Good." Annie said, trying not to picture exactly how he got those sponsors. "That's good."
Finnick walked toward her and brushed her hair back, "We need to keep them alive. They need sponsors, Annie. This is how we can get more money than the other tributes."
Annie nodded. Of course she knew all of this. "I just have one question." She waited until his eyes met hers. "Did you do it for me?"
Finnick didn't answer. Annie raised an eyebrow and her voice, "Did you sleep with Capitolites to get them to sponsor me?"
"Yes." He whispered, keeping his eyes locked on her. She pushed his hand off of her face and turned away. "I told you, Annie. I told you not to do this. I told you I didn't want you to come."
"I know, Finnick. But this isn't about us. I need to save one of them. I have to." and then she walked back into Mal's dressing room. Finnick sighed, an exhausting conversation after an exhausting day. He thumped his fist against the wall slowly, and then harder.
Shaw met Mal by their chariot. "You look amazing." Mal glanced around; making sure no one was near them. "Thank you," she said coldly. Shaw watched her for a long moment; taking in her tense body, her stone-like face. He leaned a little closer, "Are we back to that?"
"To what, Shaw?" she asked. Shaw turned her chin so that she had to look at him, "You being the ice queen while I vie for your attention." Mal swatted his hand, "I was not an ice queen. And my attention was never a competition. You just made it into one."
"Right," he smirked, "that's why it took you sixteen years to talk to me. And the only reason you are speaking to me is because you think I'm going to die. The only reason you slept with me is because you think I'm going to die." Mal had never wanted to slap anyone more than she wanted to hit him.
She sighed, "I slept with you because I wanted to, Shaw. But you know what? I think that you pity yourself more than I do."
"You wanted to." he didn't say it like a question; it was more of an accusation, like he didn't really believe her. She nodded. Shaw scoffed, "I've been in love with you since we were three, Mal. You never gave me a single inkling that you wanted to do that with me; not ever." She didn't want to get into this, not here, not now. "We're not doing this." She said.
"Just tell me why. Tell me what made you suddenly want me like that." He pushed. After that night, he felt like she owed him at least an answer to that.
Mal sighed again, wanting to pull her hair out in frustration but knowing that Ivory would be pissed. "There was nothing 'suddenly' about it, Shaw. I told you before," she met his eyes, "no more waiting. I realized that I'd spent my whole life pretending I didn't like you, and it was all a waste. Every guy I dated, every guy I talked myself into going out with, it was all a waste. I should have been with you. I wasted sixteen years of my life not being with you," She could feel the tears coming to her eyes, but she didn't want to ruin the make-up; or cry in front of him. "That'll always be my biggest regret, Shaw. So, if you really want to know why I slept with you…if that's what you need to know to make peace with your life, then that's why. I felt like I needed to make up for all that time."
It was their freshman year of high school, and Shaw's hands were shaking. He held the flowers tightly, waiting for her to walk through the doors. He stood next to her locker, taking deep breaths and pacing. "Shaw…" he glanced up to see her; she was looking up at him with a hint of a smile on her lips. She looked beautiful, even on a muggy Monday morning. He couldn't find his voice. No words came to mind. "Are those for me?" she asked.
Shaw nodded. "I…I was just um," Mal smiled in encouragement. Shaw told himself to calm down, it was just a girl. It was just Mal. He'd known her his whole life. "Does this have anything to do with that?" Mal asked, gesturing to the poster for the dance that Friday night. Shaw took another deep breath, "Would you like to go with me?"
"Mal!" They both turned to see one of Mal's friends. "Are you coming?" Mal glanced back at Shaw, and then to her friend, "In a minute!" she called back. The friend crossed her arms, "You're not actually talking to that loser are you?"
Mal looked at her feet as she handed Shaw his flowers back, "I'm sorry," she said, "I can't go to the dance with you, Shaw."
"Of course not. I was crazy to expect you would." he said. He wasn't sure where that courage came from. It was no secret that he liked Mal; liked her a lot. But he'd never spoken to her so harshly. Mal met his gaze, "Yeah, I guess you were."
Annie headed for her tributes, who both looked quite upset. "Okay you guys, time to put on our happy faces and make the audience fall in love with you."
She helped Mal and Shaw into the chariot. "Just remember, smile, wave, blow kisses, act cheerful."
"Easier said than done." Shaw mumbled. Annie touched each of their hands as District Three started to head out, "You'll be okay. I'll find you after." She said; releasing them as the horses started to move.
Annie watched them on the screen until District 5 appeared, and then she headed off to find Finnick. She glanced at each of the tributes as she passed them, but when she reached District Twelve she stopped dead in her tracks.
It wasn't their flashy outfits, or the way their hands were connected, or even the desperate look in the boy's eyes as he watched his tribute partner. It was her. The girl from 12 looked very familiar. Her gray eyes and dark hair were pretty generic for that district, but Annie knew she recognized her. She remembered her face amongst a crowd of people; her gray eyes had been dead at the time. As lifeless as the eyes she saw in her nightmares.
Annie touched Haymitch Abernathy on the arm as she watched the girl on the screen. "What is your female tribute's name?" she asked.
Haymitch scoffed, "that hell raiser is Katniss Everdeen…" Haymitch watched Annie for a moment, "You know her?"
"I remember her. It was during my Tour. I remember her in the crowd. She was haunting."
"She has that affect…" Haymitch mumbled. Annie thought that this "hell raiser" must have given Haymitch quite a bit of trouble.
"Your Victory Tour," Haymitch continued, "Well, Annie Cresta, your tour would have been right around the time when Katniss lost her father." Annie nodded, "That makes sense." She could remember this Katniss girl quite clearly now. And as she continued to watch her on the screen, Annie had a feeling that Katniss would not only be a problem for Haymitch.