Chapter Eighteen; Caught

"This isn't fresh air Haymitch," Stephanie scowled as he once more splashed her with cold water.

"I know," he said grimly.

One minute he had been promoting Stephanie as a brilliant tribute and the next he had seen her pass by with Dess making a beeline for the exit. Needless to say he had quickly excused himself and stopped them before they made it there. Dess not wanting any fuss quickly moved on to some other tribute.

Haymitch had no doubt that Stephanie was still clueless about the whole thing. He felt anger well up in him again and a new feeling, of protectiveness for Stephanie.

…

Stephanie dried her face with the towel he gave her and looked in the mirror. The make-up hadn't budged much to her astonishment. Then she thought back to the silver make-up from the Ceremony and how it seemed easier to strip paint from a wall than get it off her face.

Sighing she turned to Haymitch, glancing about her a bit sheepishly. She still felt a little fuzzy but the ice water had brought most of her senses back.

Haymitch was smirking.

"You are never going to let me live this down, are you?" she said crossing her arms.

"You bet darling. Never more can you check me," he said with a smug look.

She scoffed.

"Go on. I can find my own way back," she said. Haymitch glared at her.

"No, you come back with me now," he said.

"No. I can find my own way back," she replied.

"You are impossible."

"You sound like Ficen."

"I can go get Ficen right now."

Stephanie shuddered.

"Fine. But give me a few minutes," Stephanie admitted defeat.

"To do what?"

"To think!"

"You can do that while we are making our way back up the stairs."

"Haymitch go away! I will come back."

"Ha! You couldn't run if you tried darling. There are guards everywhere,"

"I wasn't going to!"

"Fine then sweetheart. If you really want, you can sulk down here for as long as you want. I am going up to promote Frenkin because he is at least trying," Haymitch said and left her standing.

After kicking the air in frustration she waited a few moments until she was sure Haymitch had really went back up. A part of her was disappointed that he hadn't come back, but she still slipped silently from the room and turned in the opposite direction they had come.

She descended another flight of stairs until she came to the ground floor. She looked right. There were at least a score of guards at the entrance. She was being truthful with Haymitch; she wasn't trying to escape, and she knew the opportunity would never rise. But more importantly she knew what the Capitol would do to Haymitch, Frenkin and her family if she did. And besides where would she go?

Sighing she veered left, careful to keep to the shadows until she came to a large patio. The double doors at the back opened out to some sort of enormous greenhouse. She could already feel the humid air begin to cling to her.

…

"So what District are you from?" Seneca asked, not bothering to conceal the tone of boredom in his voice.

The girl in the long, pale pink dress and short, dark blonde hair had been popular since she arrived.

"I'm Lana Blackell from District 2," the girl replied flicking her shoulder length hair.

Seneca thought for a moment.

"Peacekeepers," he finally commented.

"Yes my three older brothers and father are Peacekeepers. I volunteered to participate in the Hunger Games," the girl replied confidently.

Well, she wastes no time promoting herself, Seneca thought.

"Congratulations…What's your opinion of the Capitol?"

The question was a common one and he knew that all of the tributes had rehearsed answers.

"It is spectacular…" Seneca zoned out for the rest of her answer allowing his gaze to scan the room. He had nearly spoken to all of the tributes; except for both from District 3, the girl from District 4, and finally the boy from District 9. The camera crew wanted good shots of him with each tribute.

He registered that the girl beside him had stopped speaking. He glanced over and looked at her for a moment. The girl was very pretty he conceded. "Fine," he said and then walked off.

Next he talked to a tall tanned girl with curly mid-length hair from District Four called Slena. The girl impressed him with her quiet determined nature. She said the rehearsed sentences but with no air of pretence. It was evident, she did not find the Capitol spectacular. District Nine's boy was strong and Seneca immediately made a note of him.

Now he was having a conversation with a very scared boy with oversized glasses. The boy named Frenkin spoke so quietly sometimes he had to strain to hear him. However the boy's quiet nature only seemed to make him more endearing to the women around him.

"Where is your District partner?" Seneca demanded, feeling the start of a headache coming on.

The boy looked up at him with wide eyes. "M..my district partner?" Frenkin repeated.

Seneca felt irritation claw at him. "Yes," he said through gritted teeth.

"I don't know," he replied.

Seneca pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Seneca Crane! Oh it is an honour to meet someone as talented as you. I am Isa, escort for District 3."

Seneca looked up briefly. "Well Isa if you wouldn't mind showing me to the female tribute for District 3."

Isa looked at him dumbly for a moment.

"She is with her mentor," Isa replied.

With a frustrated sigh Seneca gave up and quickly made for the exit.

…

Stephanie peeked casually into the greenhouse. It had overlapping vines and the such all around it and generally looked unwelcoming. However the patio was quite cool and she collapsed gratefully unto one of the comfy seats, propping her burning feet up on one of the tables.

Just as she was getting comfortable Stephanie heard footsteps. Approaching footsteps.

Not having time to think Stephanie scurried into the greenhouse, knocking a vase over and was just able to hide herself in time behind some vines. A man appeared at the entrance to the patio glancing around it sceptically.

"Who's there?" he called out.

Damn, Stephanie thought. She glanced in the opposite direction and wondered if there was another exit but then discarded the idea; no doubt if there was it would be guarded.

The man hadn't made to move on but instead entered the patio, his gaze locked on something.

Stephanie peeked out. What was it he was looking at that stopped him from moving on?

She gulped hard. The smashed vase.

However, unstable shoes combined with the fact that she had had a few glasses of alcohol for the first time on an empty stomach made Stephanie a little unsteady. And with a few curse words Stephanie fell and hit the floor and out of the safety of her cover.

She looked up frantically to lock eyes with a pair of ice blue ones.