Chapter Three
The constant shaking of the train slowly lulled me awake. I was a bit surprised to see I was wrapped up in soft sheets, the calming color of the ocean. Rolling over on the cushions, thoughts raced through my head, followed by furious blushes that warmed my face into a hot mess. Finnick must have carried me to my room. Another blush rose to my cheeks, and I analyzed myself. The nice white blouse and navy blue pencil skirt I had worn to my reaping were still firmly on my body, though my black flats had gone missing. That was reassuring, though I still scanned the room with a bit of paranoia.
The entire room was decorated with the basic likings of district four traditions, capitol style. Lush curtains that looked like running water, sandy brown carpet, cabin-like walls; my bed resembled the throne of Poseidon. It wasn't very realistic if you lived in District Four, but it was tacky and cliché; Capitol all the way. Based on what I'd heard and the previous Hunger Games I had seen, I would be meeting my team today, and possibly making it to the Capitol by late tonight. I sat up gingerly and threw the sheets off my body before heading to the obviously blue bathroom. The facilities were top-notch and huge, and the shower had so many controls I had no clue what to do.
Swearing silently to myself, I stripped down and walked into the shower, pressing a few buttons that looked familiar compared to the showers I used in my own district. They were definitely less complicated than these, but at least I could turn on the water correctly. The cycles in the shower began and warm water drenched me, followed by body wash smelling of fresh flowers, that I lathered on. My hair was sprayed with some kind of soap, which I rubbed and rinsed off vigorously. Soon enough my dark brown waves were smooth against my back and I sighed, closing my eyes.
"Annie?" Finnick's low bass was startling and loud even twenty feet away as he knocked on the door to my rooms. I yelped and fell backward into the shower's controls, hitting a few buttons as I went down. Scalding hot water jabbed at me, and a stinging spray pelted my body, leaving me screaming and trying to get out of the burning prison. I could hear Finnick trying to get inside, loud thumps registering as I pounded on the glass door, my mind not working correctly. My hand found the door handle just as he barged into the room, nearly breaking the door's hinges in the process.
"No get out!" I shrieked, covering as much of me as possible. Finnick ignored my shrieks, opening the shower door all the way and yanking me out of the scalding water. With the press of a button the water was off and he turned to face me, still gripping my arm as I frantically tried to cover myself. He was staring at me, oh god he was staring at me. Something inside me snapped again, that thread that had broken last night, and I threw myself at him. I could feel him tense up for a moment before putting his arms around me tentatively as I relaxed against his body.
Then reality hit me.
"No Finnick, no, I'm… sorry." Shaking my head I backed away from his gaze as it trailed down to place unknown and scooped up a towel from the nearest shelf. Something dawned in Finnick's eyes and he averted his gaze, sighing.
"Are you okay Annie?" He asked. I nodded, taking in his drenched white shirt and jeans. Both were steaming, but he didn't seem to notice.
"You look burned." My voice sounded unnatural and subdued.
"So do you. You're bright red. Let me guess; the showers were confusing?" The playful grin was back; his casual joking manner reinstated with a single question.
"You startled me and I fell on the buttons." I tried to keep my tone measured, but it kept rising and lowering. Finnick's smile faltered for a moment before he began to exit the bathroom, calling back to me.
"Breakfast is ready and Mags wants to meet you, so hurry up. Dorthy was worried you were dead or something."
"Dorthy?" It was an odd nickname for a capitol official, a bit mocking. He shrugged.
"Her name's too long for me." With that he left, slamming the door behind him.
Once I was decently dressed in stretchy brown pants and a white v-neck, I ventured out into the halls in search of breakfast. The interior of the train was marvelous; red velvet, gold trim, crown molding. It was the kind of décor I'd only seen in magazine pictures. A young woman with an apron motioned to me from down the hall, gesturing toward a doorway I assumed was the dining room. There was a tremendous table, laden with dozens of dishes, filled with types of food I'd never seen before. Dorathea gave me a sweet smile and Finnick pointed to a plush chair next to him. Looking for food I knew of, I sat cautiously on the seat, delighted to see some chocolate chip muffins only a few inches from my plate.
As I was sipping orange juice and picking at my muffin, Dorathea clapped her hands lightly, getting everyone's halfway attention. Her fuchsia curls were piled on top of her head this morning in a tight knot, her suit-dress pumpkin orange and ghastly.
"Good Morning everyone," She chimed, "we now have our tributes, and hopefully can pull in a win this year!" Her smile was dazzling and persuasive; she didn't care whether James or I died. It was plain in her eyes, and I hated it.
Finnick sent me a knowing look; apparently that was just Dorthy. Clearing his throat, Finnick stood up and nearly cut Dorathea off mid-sentence.
"Dorthy, don't talk about the kids like they aren't here. I think we should all get properly acquainted." He turned toward James and I. "Do you two know each other?" I shook my head; James was familiar, but I didn't really know him. Surprisingly, James nodded.
"Annie's in my classes. She's really smart and actually pays attention to the teacher. No wonder she doesn't know me." He lightly touched my hand; a gesture that I knew was friendly, but I couldn't help second guessing it. Was this his ploy, or was he really trying to become my ally? Maybe James was an okay guy. Holding out his hand, James spoke again. "Well Annie Cresta, I'm James O'Shan. Nice to properly meet you." I shook his hand and tried to figure out if I wanted James as a friend or enemy. Currently, he was in the middle.
Finnick chuckled and clapped James on the back; he certainly liked this male tribute.
"Alright then James, you've met Mags since she is your mentor, but Annie hasn't." Finnick gestured toward the old woman facing across from him, whom was sending me a toothless grin, some of her wrinkled features covered by a few loose strands of straggly brown hair. Her eyes were a washed out gray, and I could tell Mags wasn't all the way there. There were many stories about her fish hooks, baskets, and mumblings though.
"Ann'ie, 'ow yo'" Mags muttered, giving me a salute with a nut-filled hand.
"Hello Mags," I greeted, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it. She smiled and went back to her breakfast, as did the rest of us. Dorthy soon enough interrupted us again; she couldn't seem to enjoy silence.
"After breakfast we are going to watch the reapings." Dorthy chimed. Everyone muttered incoherent responses and got back to their food.
You'll find out who you're up against, I thought.
You'll see who you'll have to kill, or who will kill you.