The night is long and I sleep right through it. It's a perfect, dreamless sleep that only ends when Pandora McCafferty shakes me awake with a chipper reminder that it's "time to face the day!".
I stare at her a moment, wondering quietly if this is a nightmare when the gentle pounding in my ears registers, and I realise that my imagination isn't good enough to conjure a headache at will. This isn't just real life, it's slightly hungover real life, which , given the circumstances, may only be infinitesimally worse – but is still worse nonetheless.
I remind myself that I no longer have shock or drugs to give me an excuse to be a coward and hide under the sheets, so I steel myself to sit up and smile at Pandora – my very own grim reaper.
"Come on now, Annie. Sit" Pandora says pulling the chair finnick had sat in last night to the small table under the window. I climb over the pillows and out of bed and a Capitol attendant pulls a robe onto me. Its green, soft, and so fuzzy-warm it's like taking the bed with me. I thank the attendant, who nods and disappears.
Another Capitol attendant comes in and places a glass of water in front of me on a silver platter when I take my seat. Pandora puts a tiny white pill on the platter beside it. I eye the little white pill with caution - i can't afford to go through a day like last night, with hazy visits from dead relatives and unnatural calm.
"It's just for the headache dear" Pandora reassures me "Finnick told me about the wine- so I thought I would fix it for you before breakfast. You're not supposed to mix the two and It's a big, big day!" she says, exaggerating her Capitol affectation "We need you to feel your best for tonight!"
"what are the side effects?" i ask, unmoved by her explanation.
"there are none whatsoever. I promise."
"so what do they do, then?"
"oh for goodness- Take the pill Annie!" Pandora finally bursts. Losing her temper and slamming an open palm into the table. She looks at me wide eyed, surprised by herself, then straightens her sea-green curls and takes a deep breath "It's a blood thinner, that's all. Helps ease the headache."
"And what did you give me last night?" I ask, picking up the pill between my thumb and forefinger. I try to hide the judgement in my voice, to remember that maybe in the Capitol drugging a perfect stranger might be a completely acceptable pastime I don't know about.
"two motion-sickness pills and a slow-release sleeping pill." She answers with unexpected honestly, blushing "the girl tributes never drink alcohol. I simply didn't know to warn you Annie."
I consider carefully how I will answer, knowing her opinion of me might very well be paramount for my survival. I force myself to conjure an apologetic expression "I'm so sorry Pandora, you must have felt awful." I tell her " You know on the dingy, where I'm from, we're probably a little more uncivilized than the rest. I was wondering, if… maybe…if you're not too busy… you could help me some- teach me to be a proper lady? Like you. Someone the sponsors will think well of"
Pandoras features soften, and she takes both my hands in hers "Pandy, darling, call me Pandy" she says, in a sweet-as-honey wisp, looking at me like a lost child shes trying to console. "I will do everything, you hear me? Everything to civilise you for the cameras" and she means it. I can tell my humility has won her over, and though I'm glad, I'm hoping I can keep the shtick up.
"we'll start tomorrow, but for now- breakfast! It's the last chance you'll have to eat with your hands without me judging you" she says, older-sister like with a wink as she walks toward the door "but first take the pill, Annie. You'll thank me in half an hour"
I decide that 'Pandy'might be a clueless capitol creation, but she couldn't possibly be so diabolical as to want to drug me for sport, so I pop the pill into my mouth and chase it with water.
'Pandy' leads me into the hallway, but not to the dining car where I expect. "Finnick explained how you were unwell last night, so he wanted to do a refresher with you this morning, before we hand you over to the Stylists." She tells me, as if in confidence "You'll be dining alone."
She opens the door to a car way at the back, bathed in sunlight, where you can see the track stretch out behind you, as far as the eye can see.
It isn't until the door is closed and im left alone inside that I see him.
Finnick is hunched over in a chair in the corner with a steaming cup of something in his hand. Coffee,by the smell of it.
"You should try some of this Annie" he says, raising his cup "Puts hair on your chest . Nothing like the oily instant stuff at home." It's a phrase they use at home, but it seems odd coming from Finnick, who the Capitol keeps constantly and continuously hairless. I heard they lasered it all off.
"do you grow hair on your chest, Finnick?" I ask sarcastically, with a grin. I can't help myself
"Only when I'm away from the city for lengths of time." He says, matter-of-factly.
"So…never then?"
"you may not see it, but it's there- In abundance" Finnick says, sarcastically
I grin "I don't like Coffee", I say – I can't help but stare at his exposed, chiseled chest peering out of his open robe. "its bitter"
"sort of like you were last night?"
"touché " I answer with a half-smile. I was expecting this. He needs to test the waters, see what I remember; see how I'm feeling, and he's trying to disarm me with humor. I'm okay with that, I decide. "I'm sorry for last night. In my defense I was on drugs and scared out of my mind"
"And today? You're not scared out of your mind?" He asks
"Today I'm not resigned to losing." I answer "Its an improvement"
"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did. I should have stuck around to make sure you were okay" Finnick says
I just shrug. I pull a chair out from the table and sit. "I have no idea long you were out there waiting for me, but had I been in your position, I'd have left as soon as I started talking to dead relatives in the bathroom. So, thanks for sticking around as long as you did, I guess. "
"would it be alright for me to ask which dead relative you were talking to in the bathroom last night?" Finnick asks
I'm considering his question when the door opens and Pandora comes in followed by several attendants with carts full of trays. We're served eggs, ham, fried potatoes, a basket of fresh rolls (a luxury I've never enjoyed) , and a tureen of fruit on ice. There's coffee, a glass of thick orange stuff and a warm cup of brown something that smells heavenly.
'Pandy' identifies the orange stuff as orange juice(go figure), and the brown liquid as hot chocolate. I try that first, and immediately ask for more.
I can feel Finnicks eyes on me and it makes me uneasy. There's a sort of scrutiny behind his fixed stare. I get the distinct impression he doesn't like me, or that I bother him somehow.
Finnick clears his throat and reminds Pandy of a conversation they'd had earlier. Pandys eyes turn to slits, and though she huffs and puffs,she leaves the room after reminding us we'll be pulling into the capitol in just about an hour. I wonder what this is about, but I don't ask. I know I've won over Pandora with my humility- I need to win over Finnick if I want to have any chance in the games.
When we're alone again, Finnick starts to dig in on breakfast and I join him, first by breaking my bread crusts into bits and dunking them into the hot chocolate as I eat them, then I dig into my massive platter.
"so, will you answer?" he asks, with a half full mouth
"what?" I ask, distracted by the food, (which is beyond reproach) and the awkward energy that fills the room.
"who you were talking to last night?"
"that wasn't the question" I say "the question was if it was okay to ask who I was talking to last night."
Finnick sighs, his jaw locks and unlocks "you're right. And have you decided, then?"
"Not quite"
"its alright Annie, nevermind." Finnick says, resigned and a little offended, though his voice is very soft. He finishes the remaining coffee in his cup and gets up to re-fill it at a machine in the corner.
"My dad" I answer. I can't quite justify my answering, but I do it nonetheless. And I feel better for it. I decide, in that moment, that though I don't understand Finnick, I also don't dislike him- and since he's probably the last and only person in Panem that I have to talk to, why shouldn't I talk to him?
Finnick just looks at me, no doubt expecting me to go on
"He was killed working the Meridian seven years ago. Crab season" I say. Crab season is an explanation unto itself, so I know finnick will need no elaboration. I neglect to tell him that my dad came to me as he was when he died, bloated and blue and fish-bitten by the sea. "He had words of encouragement" I add.
"Sebastian, right?" Finnick asks. There is neither sadness nor pity on his face, and I appreciate that- I've lived with those expressions on people's faces my whole life, and there's nothing I hate more. In fact, what I see on his face is relief. His features fall and soften, as though some question had been answered.
"That's right. Sebastian Lee." I say. It occurs to me that when Finnick talks to me, his voice is different from the way it is on tv. Theres no purr of seduction rolling off his tongue. He isn't trying to win me over.
"He was a hell of a Captain. Stern as anyone I ever knew. Guys were terrified of him" finnick says softly. He re-fills my glass of hot chocolate
"So you knew him?" I ask. It seems strange, when I consider it, but of course he knew my father. He might be a revered victor but it hadn't always been that way. He would have grown up on the boats, and no doubt knew my father, at least by name, if not intimately.
"For a while" Finnick answers "He ran the west dock so I went out with him on the boats really regular growing up. He taught me how to sail."
"I didn't know that" I say.
"You should. I used to hide you in the trunk where we kept nets for repair." Finnick says, focusing harder on the food in front of him then he needs to. "You'd sneak on with extraordinary persistence."
I laugh out loud. "really?" I had almost forgotten the phase I went through when I was six or seven, when I'd sneak onto the boats in the morning so I could watch my father work. There was an older boy with dark hair who would always find me hiding in the old netting, and keep me from being discovered. He'd even bring me a handful of bread during breaks so I wouldn't get hungry. I never knew that was finnick, though- I always just called him 'boat boy'. In fact, come to think about it I was never particularly kind to him, though he was very kind to me.
"Boat boy?"
"The same" he says, with a bow of his head
"Ha! Theres no way that could have been you." I say "That boy had dark hair, and he was scrawny and younger then you are."
"I assure you it was me." He answers, with a touch of amusement "I was small for my age before I hit thirteen, and I had darker hair then, before the sun bleached it"
"That's weird" I say, more to myself then him.
"You were a real pain in the ass, you know that?" Finnick asks.
I take a mouthful of eggs and ham, and smile big at him "Still am" I answer.
"I have no doubt" is his only reply.
We're both smiling now, and eating, savoring the discovery of an old familiarity renewed. But I know it can't last, so I take it upon myself to bring us back to the order of the day "So Pandora said we were supposed to talk strategy" I say "was there someone who really struck you at the reapings?"
"Atia will be a problem. Make her like you, if you can" He says, stuffing his mouth with a roll
"Okay. So why do I want her to like me?"
Finnick hesitates, looking me over "you're not going to like my answer"
"Tell me anyway"
"well she's nice to look at, so the cameras will be on her " I roll my eyes at him, but he continues "so are you Annie. That's the idea. You've got this unassuming innocence thing that really works for you. You need camera time for people to see that, and respond to it"
"well I'll take your advice into consideration"
"There aren't too many young ones. No twelve year olds but a couple of fourteen year olds. You need to try to avoid them, Annie" Finnick continues. I'm starting to get annoyed "try to remember that every one of them has to die for you to go home to your brother"
"It's a lot easier to kill someone you're pretending to like then someone you're inclined to protect. Stick with the careers, Okay?" he persists
"I get it" I say with a touch of hostility "But what if the careers won't have me?" I ask
"Just smile, and keep your hair down." He says "Use the spears, use the nets, but try not to let them know how good you are at climbing and hiding. Theres no way they won't want to ally with you. "
"Climbing?" I ask. I can't imagine how he knows this.
"yes climbing." He looks at me like I've missed something. "you really don't remember do you?"
"I don't know what you mean"
"you'd scale the trees for fruits. At least when you were young you did. You'd occasionally bring me a banana for hiding you" he says "you don't climb anymore?"
"I do, sometimes. But I'm lucky if I find fruit these days. All the fruit-yielding mutts have been culled" I answer, in a more affected tone then I'd have liked. I'm a little choked up that he remembers that small kindness, which I know I never did more than twice in all the short time I knew him. I'm a little more than ashamed I had never taken the time to learn the boat boys name. "I can't believe you remember that"
"How could I forget the only two bananas I had ever eaten before getting on this train?" he asks
"so that's why you were so nice to me!" I accuse mockingly, hoping to change the warmth in the air to humor. "the promise of fruit!"
He raises his hand in surrender "guilty, as charged. Always did have a sweet tooth"
Theres a knock on the door. Half an hour until we get there.
"I should go change" finnick Says, all humor draining from his face
"me too" I answer. Wiping my mouth and pushing my chair from the table. I get to my feet and head for the door
"No point." Finnick says, standing up and following. He grabs my hand and spins me around. There's a small grin on his face and his emeraldine eyes smile at me, too. "You'll spend the rest of the day with the stylists being transformed into a hairless, baby soft specimen." He says, placing my hand on the hollow of his chest. "Like me" he adds, in his seductive purr. His capitol purr
"That sounds unpleasant" i say, feeling a blush rise. I liberate my hands from both his chest and his hand "will you be there?"
Finnick half-grins. Clearly something I said was amusing to him. "it'd be nice, but no."
"will it hurt?"
Finnick nods "more than you'd think it would. But just try to go to a happy place in your head and not complain too much."
"that's not encouraging"
"Mags and I will be waiting, before you get on the chariot, and after"
"that's not encouraging either"
Finnick shrugs "then there isn't anything I can say that will encourage you." He turns for the door, and as it glides open for him, he yells "Be brave, Little One" over his shoulder