Chapter 10
I have not spoken to him since before the 50th Hunger Games. He was at his Victory Feast, of course, but the chance never came up for us to talk, and if it did, I'm sure we wouldn't have taken it. For the first time since he's returned, I take a second to really look at him. Skinny. Ragged. Dark circles under his eyes. Terrible, mostly.
"Haymitch, you look awful."
"Thanks. You too."
Our steps fall in rhythm as we walk side by side to one of the nearby stoops. I lean up against the stone and sigh.
"Well, this was not how I imagined my day to go."
Haymitch sits and watches me, waiting silently for me to continue. I recount everything, from the start, when Markas and I first laid eyes on one another. Every small memory I can recall comes out of my mouth. All of the times we stole away to the Victory Village. Markas coming in to my father's shop. Me, visiting the Seam for the first time. The most difficult part is reliving the breakup, I even have to wipe my eyes a few times, but Haymitch doesn't notice it. Or he pretends not to, anyway. The details of my flee from my father do not seem to phase him either. Finally I reach the end of my story - being here.
"And now, well, I don't have any idea what I'm going to do. Go see if I can live with Markas I suppose. If he'll take me in. I guess that's all I can hope-"
"Go back home," Haymitch cuts in gruffly, his eyes avoiding mine.
"What? Were you not listening to what I said? I can't go home. My dad is probably down at the Justice Building, disowning me right now."
"You can go back home. I promise. And it's better than the alternative."
Haymitch still won't make eye contact with me, instead he stares off towards town.
"How is going back home to get beaten, and then kicked out for dishonoring my family, going to be any better than trying to reason with Markas and his family? I don-"
"That not the alternative I meant."
His words make no sense. It felt good to ramble on and let everything out, but I'm starting to question if telling Haymitch was truly the best idea. The boy doesn't seem too sound of mind at the moment, and I'm stuck all alone with him, plenty far away from civilization. I start to get up to leave, but his hand reaches out and grabs mine. I look down to find him finally looking me in the eye, the smallest glisten of a tear hidden behind his dark lashes. The serious notes in his stare ease my nerves and my body sinks its way back down to the steps. It looks like I'm not the only messed up person around here.
"Look, Lynn. You can go back to your family. They might be upset, but they won't throw you out on the streets. You can get over yourself and go home, or you can leave to go be in love. And everything is always a better choice than being in love. Love hurts. Kills even."
The whistles of the evening air fill the quiet with Haymitch, as I watch tremor after tremor shake through his body. The tear in his eye finally falls, and he lets the wet salt dry on his cheek. The picture before me is utterly heartbreaking.
"I loved her too, you know," I finally muster up the courage to get out.
"She was amazing. A true friend. I was completely lost before I found her. I didn't appreciate her enough when she was here, but she saved me. I was so lonely before her. Just like I am now."
His trembling continues, but my words stop. Where am I going with this? What else can I possibly say to help this hopeless situation?
I take notice of his hand in mine. His skin is dry and cracked, and scrapes against my palm with every quiver of his body. I don't want to leave him alone like this. So I wait. An eternity seems to pass before he speaks.
"Lynnetta… I know that we don't know each other all that well…. But you need to hear what I'm saying. There is nothing else that can be done for me. No one can hurt me anymore. But you are a different story. Don't be in love. Do you hear me, Lynn? Goddammit!"
My arm jolts as Haymitch rapidly jumps up, "Goddammit it's not worth it!"
After slamming his hand onto the nearby railing, he lets out a deep breath and begins to walk back towards his house, but pauses a moment to turn back towards me.
"Look, Genever would not want you throwing away your family for a stupid guy anyway. I know her parents would do anything to get her back. If you won't listen to me, it's the least you can do for her."
My eyes close as he walks away, trying to fight the feeling that he's been right all along.
When I finally open my eyes, the sun has already set. I slowly raise from the concrete steps and start walking into town, trying to steady my breathing to the rhythm of my worn-leather shoes hitting the cold cobblestones, the darkness steadily replacing the humidity of day with the chill of night. The oil-lamps glowing through my windows when I round the corner don't look as inviting as they usually do. Thinking about what Haymitch said, at least the lights are still on. My parents haven't shut them off and gone to bed, ready to forget they ever had me. Instead, my father is pacing, the mayor watching him, back and forth. The mayor's wife has her arm on my mother, in what seems to be an effort to console her. Some party this turned out to be. I watch them from outside for a few minutes before reaching for the door. They seem genuinely worried. In contrast, all the worry I had earlier has left. I'm back to my usual self as of late - empty, and only that.
My thumb presses against the brass doorknob as my wrist turns. Almost instantaneously, a warmth encircles me. Looking up, my mother is weeping, holding me in her arms.
"Lynnetta, we have been so worried about you. Where have you been, darling?"
"I'm fine, mother. I just needed to clear my head, that's all."
With the end of my words, I can sense the part I've been waiting for… my father gently pulls my mother off of me, and sets me down firmly at the kitchen table.
"I truly hope that your head is clear. You were spouting nonsense earlier, then ran away from your own father in the middle of town. That was quite a spectacle you performed, young lady, but we can talk about that another time. The worst part of your stunt was the terrible anxiety you've put your mother through. She has been working hard all week to make sure your birthday was a pleasant one, and this is the thanks you give her? By not showing up or letting anyone know where you were going or that you were safe? That alone should be enough shame to keep your thoughts the rest of the night."
His quiet, stern speech sends a shiver down my spine, and a heavy guilt in my stomach. At least the numbness is gone, and heart-wrenching pain finally wasn't the thing to fill me up instead.
"I'm sorry, momma. I didn't mean to ruin my birthday. There is no excuse for what happened today, and all I can do is promise the two of you that I will never do anything like this ever again. And apologize to you Mr. & Mrs. Mayor. I never intended on any of this. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, and I surely hope I have not inconvenienced you both too greatly."
If there was one important thing my father taught me, it was how to deliver a good apology.
"Oh, Lynetta. Myself and Mrs. Overton are just happy to see that you are home and safe. Although you do look a bit hungry, don't you think, Jellie?"
With surprise in her face, my mother looks up from her clasped hands.
"Of course, " she said. "Lynn, your father went and picked up your cake for you. Let's eat it now, shall we?"
The cake is still moist, and fills me with the oddest mixture of feelings. Relief at the lack of physical harm to my body. Gratitude for the delicious dessert filing my belly. Happiness from my mother's love. Fear from my father's alluding to a future discussion on today's events. Anguish from celebrating without anyone I truly want to celebrate with, and knowing that I never will again. Sometimes feelings are nice to have, and you don't realize how much you miss them until they leave and come back. That night, I fell right asleep, and I sleep a dreamless sleep.