"I'm back!" Dad announced, from the door. Suddenly, Finnick, who was roaming about the house acting like a bee and I, busy reading my book ran to the entrance, to greet him.
"Hello Mr. Mellark!" I said, bowing. He laughed, putting his hand on my shoulder.
"I told you to get me some brownies!" He said.
"In blue!" I added. Finnick turned towards me. "I said BROWNies. Not BLUEies!" He said, with a scowl on his face.
"Kids!" Mom said, walking towards us. "Give him some space!"
Dad winked at her, and she didn't reply; I still imagine mom as a tensed teenager who never quite knew how to respond to a guy hitting on her. Actually, even I didn't know how to respond to a guy hitting on me, but, I was never hit on. Mom was, that's the basic point.
"Uhm... Yyeah!" She managed, taking the pack of brownies from his hands.
"Dad! Why don't you try different colors on your products? Like red, green, blue..."
"Stop!" Dad said. "Why are you obsessed with blue?"
I didn't reply. I glared at him,walking towards the couch. I took the remote and started watching some random cartoon channel, thanks to Finnick.
If you enter my house, you will first see a not so huge TV in the front and some couches, where you are supposed to sit and watch TV. There are some vases here and there, but, I think the glass cases surrounding the TV, filled with exotic pieces made of glass and chinaware will attract you. There is some space to the left, where we placed the dining table and there is a floor upstairs, where my room is situated. Finnick wants to make the store room beside my room his, so that he can irritate me always, but, mom and dad never approved of it. And the kitchen is somewhat an extension to the dining room and the washrooms... I will tell you when you come home!
Thank god...
"Here!" Mom said, placing the plate of cookies on the small table in front of the couches. I picked up one and ate it off, watching TV. Finnick tried to grab another, but, I swiftly pit it in my mouth, earning a glare from him.
"Do you realize that we are supposed to go to 4 tomorrow?!" Dad asked, obscuring my view of the TV. I beckoned him to move, but, he refused to.
"Fin! Why don't you go call Uncle Haymitch!"
"He told us not to call him uncle!" Finnick said. "He said it would make him appear ol-"
"Whatever!" Mom interrupted. "Go!"
He hung his head low, and slowly walked.
In a few minutes, all of us sat on the couches, randomly feeding ourselves with brownies and popcorn. We were having a round table conference.
"What are we gifting him?" Haymitch asked.
"Annie told us not to-"
"That's the basic decency!" Dad interrupted mom. "Why don't we give him some money?"
"What about a basket of medicines for the bride?" Haymitch asked. "What's her name?" He added, twirling his fingers in the air.
"Susanne Collins."
"Yeah. Whatever!" Haymitch waved his hand. "She would love it!"
"Are you sur-"
"They are costly!" Haymitch said. "And, the capitol loves them!"
Mom and dad seemed uncomfortable. The capitol wasn't supposed to flourish, but, it did.
"Alright! Max?" Mom asked. Though his name was Triton Maximus, people called him Max. Max was a good guy and I know him. We met quite a few times, randomly. His sea green eyes and sandy hair have always seduced my friends, namely, Amanda.
Oh God! Why am I always reminded of her?
"Why don't we give Maxy a trident?" I suggested. Max loved tridents and always spoiled them. It would be a real help, if we gifted him a trident. He would really appreciate it.
"You sure?" Dad asked.
"Dad! Max always used to complain how he wasted his tridents!"
"Alright? Where do we get a trident, in 12?"
" Why would we buy a Trident over here?" I asked. "Obviously at 4!"
"Smart girl!" Haymitch praised me.
"What are we going to wear?" Finnick asked. Good point...
"I-" Dad interrupted Haymitch.
"The ladies, Haymitch. We need to figure out what they are going to wear." He continued.
The three boys were staring at us, intently.
"What?" Both of us blurted out, together.
Mom and I are hopeless in such matters.
"We need to do something... With... With you!" Haymitch said, eyeing at us. "I wish Cinna were alive!"
Silence followed. Mom looked at dad, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"We could never prove that he was dead, right?!" "It has been more than 20 years. If Cinna were ali-"
A loud knock at the door cut dad's words short. Mom looked at dad and he squeezed her hands, as if assuring her. Finnick got up and walked towards the door.
"Who is it?" Dad asked. Finnick didn't reply.
"Who are you?" He asked. The man didn't reply. He opened the door wider for us, so that we could see the man.
The man seemed to be an old man, but, the amount of make up he wore covered each and every wrinkle on his face. Though he looked handsome, there was sorrow all over his face "What?!" He asked. "You think I am not betting on you? I still am." He asked, walking inside.