"So what's up with you and Annie?"
I look up from my fan of cards to Eura's face , my mouth noticeably gaping open. She stares back at me in a casual manner with expressionless eyes, as if she just asked what I thought of today's weather. We have played in silence up until now, and I'm sure my surprise shows. Quickly, I shut my mouth and shake my head.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, really, Finnick. Anyone could see the way you were eyeing her at dinner last night." After a slight pause, Eura's eyes narrow and her nose scrunches up as if she's smelt something putrid. "Are you harassing h―"
"God, no!" I snap. More than anything, I want to throw myself across the glossy table and grab Eura's shoulders and shake her, screaming in her face, "If you knew the real me, you'd know I'm not like that!" But because anyone could be watching us, I instead bite my tongue and stare intently into my hand of cards. "She's my tribute," I say moments later with an off-handed shrug. "I want her to have a descent shot at winning."
When I do look back at Eura, she's examining me with softer eyes and a frown. She looks particularly tired in that moment, the skin of her face sagging like a wax statue morphed by a hot day. She sighs and lays her cards flat on the table.
"Finnick, Annie doesn't want to win the Games."
"What?" I say. "Of course she does."
My response makes Eura flinch, her face contorting in discomfort.
"Oh come on," she says. "Don't you see the way she acts around here? Distant, like her mind isn't even in the Games, or how she often smiles sadly like we're of no use to her because in her mind, she's going to die anyway? That's a girl who's given up and made peace with her impending death, and when someone decides to give up at this stage of the Games, there's no way of saving them."
The blood rushes out of my head and I suddenly feel light headed, thinking back to the many times Annie looked at me sadly, almost condescendingly, when I tried to help her prep for the Games.
"No," I whisper. "No, you're wrong about her. You couldn't possibly know that."
"How long do you think I've been a mentor here? I've seen it many times before, and this time is no different." She shakes her head and leans forward. "You're so blinded by whatever fascination you have with her that you refuse to see it."
My knuckles turn white as my grip on the cards tighten, and I feel my tongue going dry.
"She asked for my help. She agreed to let me help her," I say weakly.
"Well, of course no one is going to make a show of giving up. It's possible she's not even fully conscious of it. But actions speak louder than words, and Drift told me how she spent all day yesterday in the Training Center walking aimlessly around speaking to no one until he finally convinced her to try out someth―"
"You're wrong." I make clear in my tone that I'm done discussing the matter.
Eura looks at me as if I'm a squirming, suffocating fish that she wants to put out of misery. She lifts herself up from the table and walks close to me, lowering her voice to a haunting whisper.
"If you want to be a blind dumbass," she hisses, "fine, go right ahead. Just know that come a week's time you will hear that girl's cannon fire, and there is nothing you or I can do about it, so try not to look too hurt when I get to tell you I told you so."
Eura flicks aside a choppy piece of her hair and turns, walking away and leaving me and the scattered cards alone at the table.
"I won't be picking up the pieces, either," she calls out over her shoulder, holding her index finger up in the air. "Cleaning other people's messes isn't my thing."
...
I pace the hall near the entrance to the Training Room while every so often eyeing the clock. 3:58 p.m. In two minutes, all the tributes will flood the hallway including Annie. I haven't spoken a word to her since our conversation yesterday, and I can't help but wonder whether she'll completely ignore me when she sees me, or if her face will light up with a smile. At the moment, the idea of either reaction infuriates me.
Adrenaline pumps through my body at high speed as I pace and turn, pace and turn, watching for the moment that the heavy steel doors slide open. All I hear are Eura's words echoing in my ear like a high pitched buzz. You will hear that girl's cannon fire.
I've watched the deaths of all the tributes that preceded Annie within my time of mentoring. I've heard all their cannons fire, watched all of their families sob as their bodies were delivered in flimsy cardboard boxes. Never did I shed a tear or feel much of anything in any of those moments. And yet for some reason, the thought of hearing the piercing bang alongside the projection of Annie's face on the arena sky makes my heart contract. And I feel betrayed because of it, because Annie let me believe she had a fighting chance, because she did whatever it was she did that made part of me open up to her. I don't want to see her die, and yet she probably will. I'm powerless. The blood under my skin begins to simmer and my thoughts become clouded with heavy steam as I continue to pace.
Finally, there's the sound of compressed air as the doors to the Training Room pull back to reveal a hive of tributes buzzing with chatter. I step back and watch, hands clasped behind my back, as each person dribbles out of the doorway. And then I see her, Annie Cresta, with flushed cheeks and a few stray pieces of dark hair strewn across her face. Her green eyes meet mine and she lends a small smile that I don't return. Both her and Drift make their way over to me.
"How did training go?" I ask coolly, keeping my chin high and looking downward at Annie.
"Oh, it went well," she answers slowly, almost unsurely, as she eyes my expression. "I learned tons, and even used some of what you taught me at the roping station. It was a really productive day."
"Was it really? Are you sure about that?" I snap. "And you always use your time wisely, I'm sure. I know you'd never neglect such a crucial opportunity to train."
Annie's face pales, and she's quiet. Drift, however, must be as much of an idiot as I thought because he doesn't seem to grasp my tone and says, "Aw man, you should'a seen Annie in the knife-throwing station today; she was on fire, hitting the target every t―"
"I don't recall talking to you, Drift, or being your mentor, for that matter," I snarl, eyeing down the boy even though we are about level in height.
"Excuse me?" he says.
"Finnick..." Annie tries to interject.
"No worries, you're already excused." I can't help but flash a smile as Drift's face begins to contort in anger. "I'm sure someone somewhere is looking for you, so run along now, kid. I have important, life-saving matters to discuss with my tribute."
Dead silence follows. Drift's jaw locks and he takes a step closer to me, lowering his voice to an almost whisper. "So this is how the famous Capitol-sweetheart Finnick Odair earns his lovers," he says, his breath in my face. "By being an arrogant dick."
"Well, this dick still gets more women than you'll ever see in your short life," I say with a wink, my smile widening. "Tell me, Drift, how does it feel knowing you're going to die alone in that arena? No beautiful Capitol girls to weep over you, not even a girl back home to miss you in your absence... save your mother, maybe, although that's surely debatable."
Drift swings a meaty fist at my face, but I catch it mid-air and stop it in its track while clicking my tongue in a tsk. I twist downward at the wrist and Drift lets out a howl of pain as he crumples to the floor.
"Finnick!" Annie screeches, reaching for my arm. I take a step back from her to avoid her grasp, keeping my eyes on Drift.
"He will be fine; I didn't break anything, he's just weak," I say. "Get up!"
Annie falls to her knees and places a hand gingerly along Drift's wrist, helping him off the floor. "You should go find Eura," she says through gritted teeth. "I need to speak with my mentor."
Drift nods and walks away without another word, holding his wrist with his opposite hand and peering back over his shoulder every few steps with wide eyes full of terror. The hallway is now swallowed in eerie silence, Annie and I being the only ones left after today's session.
"What the hell was that, Odair?" Annie hisses, taking a step closer to me with eyes ablaze.
"My patience with him was growing thin. The kid needed a lesson."
"Drift is my friend." She places her fingertips to her temples and shuts her eyes momentarily. "And what's all this sudden talk about 'kids?' You treat Drift like a boy when you're only two years older than him, like that makes you above him or something."
My emotions feed off the frustration that is finally peeking through in Annie's personality. I crave her anger, her hatred. I need it.
"No, honey," I whisper condescendingly with a smile. "What makes me above him is that I won the Hunger Games, and therefore both my wisdom and my brawn are beyond my years."
"Wisdom? Brawn? You killed people, that's all you did!" Her voice breaks on the word "killed" and her pink lower lip quivers slightly. "Please, Finnick, stop doing this... this isn't you..."
Her last words are like slashes in my flesh. "At least that's more than you can say. Yes, I killed people in order to survive. Not just people, but innocent children. You know why? Because I'm not a quitter. Can you say the same thing about yourself, Annie? Are you a quitter?"
Only silence fills the void made by my question, so I continue.
"And guess what? I would do it all again, just like I told you yesterday. This is the real me and I'm sorry if that doesn't meet to your likings, but I'm not looking to impress you or anyone else."
And because I don't think I can stand looking at her shocked eyes and quivering lip any longer, I turn away from Annie and begin to walk toward the elevator without another word.
"Wait, no," she calls out from behind me, her voice stronger and louder than before. "We're not done talking yet. You are my mentor; you do not just get to walk away."
I snort without turning back. "Watch me."
The elevator doors slide open the moment I slam the "down" button and I quickly get on, only then realizing the sound of light steps that trail behind me. When I turn, there's none other than Annie Cresta beside me on the elevator, standing a full half foot shorter than me and yet still incredibly terrifying with her locked jaw and glossy narrowed eyes. She waits for the doors to close before speaking, and when she does, her voice is haunting.
"You may have the Capitol and Drift and everyone else believing this persona you put forward, but you aren't fooling me," she says. "There's a part of you these cameras aren't seeing. It's in the discomfort that flashes in your eyes when Capitol girls scream your name, it's in the faltering of your smile at public events... I don't know why you can't say it out loud, but it's there."
And for some reason, in that moment I'm not thinking about Drift or President Snow or whether or not the elevators are wired. All I can think about is how I was right from the beginning, how Annie saw something in me that no one else saw before. I look down into her glassy eyes and a wave of crushing relief falls over me, and for some insane reason I have the urge to touch her cheek.
Suddenly the doors open on the District 4 flat and just like that, the moment's popped like a deflated balloon.
"And what about you?" I say, leaning closer toward her face. "Accusing me of wearing the mask, but how about you, smiling and acting optimistic all the time?"
She begins to shake her head. "It's not―"
"Eura thinks you've given up on the Games."
At this, Annie's eyes widen. "Eura? What does Eura have to do w―"
"But see, the thing is, I don't think she's entirely right," I whisper. The elevator doors are about to shut and Annie reaches out a hand to stop them, but I grab her arm and pull her back into the elevator so that the doors close and we're standing stationary on the fourth floor. "See, I've thought about it, and the way you acted after our conversation last night and the way you reacted on the day of the reaping, and I think you're just scared."
She's quiet for a moment. "You think I'm scared?" she asks, almost incredulously.
"I think you're terrified," I say. "And I think this whole front you put forth about being all smiles and strength and calm is just a mask to conceal the fact that you're terrified of being part of that arena."
Her eyes narrow at me. "Am I really that readable?" She says, her voice acidic. "Think you can just read everything about me and know everything about me just because you're the wonderful and brilliant Finnick Odair?"
I lower my voice to a whisper. "It's okay to be scared, you know."
She laughs shortly. "You are the last person who should be giving me a lesson about wearing masks," she says, slapping the "open" button inside the elevator. The doors slide back to once again reveal the District 4 flat, and Annie steps off before turning back to me. "Let me make this easy for you; I'll end this conversation, and you take this elevator somewhere far away so I don't have to see your face again until dinner."
"Sounds great to me," I say.
The doors begin to close, but not before I see Annie turn and walk out of sight. It's only when I'm completely alone that I lean back against the railing of the elevator and sigh.