"And so I sit and scan the book of grey, feeling the shadows like a blind man reading. All fearful lest I find the last words bleeding. With wounds of sunset and the dying day." Cressida looked at her class, smiling at them from her seat on top of her desk. Their newest unit was on poetry, one of her personal favorites. "Your homework tonight is to come up with a short poem, about eight lines. A-b-b-a format, please. Your only parameter is it must include the word gray. In any way you want to, but it must be present." Cressida grabbed the pile of composition notebooks and stood near the door. The bell sounded and her students began rustling their notebooks and walking out, being handed their notebook as they exited the room.
Johanna usually filed out last, enjoying her end-of-day talks with her teacher. It was one of the few moments of her day when she felt normal again. It was decompressing to her nerves and sometimes they'd chat for almost an hour before texts from Katniss would break their conversation. Today was no different and as she went toward the door and moved to take her notebook, Cressida held firm to the other end.
"A blue-eyed bobcat, hm?" she questioned playfully, tilting her head to the side to appraise Johanna. Her interest in her student had admittedly been more than she had anticipated. After their encounter in the bathroom Cressida had asked Haymitch a little bit about her. He gave her some information such as her single mother, her passion for music, her girl-chasing reputation, but overall he had sung her praises. His face, usually somewhere between a firm line and a scowl, actually managed a smile when he spoke about her like a proud father.
Cressida knew a thing or two about being an outcast, having been one herself when she went through school. High school could be torturous and when she had applied to teach at one, she hoped she could make a difference to one of the students. She felt she was doing that with Johanna. On the other side of that coin, they had a lot in common so talking with her came more naturally than one would think between women of disparate ages.
Johanna snatched the notebook from her hand and it disappeared into her bag. Cressida's unrelenting eye contact made Johanna blush. "That's what you looked like."
"Oh you don't need to defend yourself, I quite like that description." Johanna saw the flash of brilliantly white teeth before Cressida spoke again. "And I enjoyed your song. Will you be performing that on Saturday?" she teased.
Johanna scrunched her face and shook her head the negative. This weekend was her birthday. A personal holiday she never celebrated and hoped this weekend would not be different. Katniss had promised. Haymtich had promised. She would hang out with Katniss on Friday, her actual birthday, then work at her mother's on Saturday and have a night out to a calm dinner with her mother. Their birthday dinner was a tradition that her mother started the year after her father died to help keep Johanna's mind off the tragic event. It was a nice way for them to kind of slow down and catch up with each other, especially during the tumultuous years of Johanna's teens. And this year she was 18. Legal. An adult. Johanna was looking forward to the independence she thought would magically appear before her like a fairy godmother, sweeping her into a ball of sparkles and glitter and maturity.
"Unfortunately not. I hate to disappoint but Friday is my birthday so Saturday I'll be going out with my mother."
Sky blue eyes widened to comical levels and she clapped her hands together happily. "You must be so excited! Eighteen! Grab tight to this year because it all flies by so fast after this." She moved her lips to the side until her face spread out into a grin. "Although be careful, Mason. Now you're officially an adult. So your crimes will be treated as such. There's a lot to be arrested for now."
Johanna rolled her chestnut eyes at her teacher, their gazes even. She mirrored Cressida's smirk with one of her own. "At least there's one thing that wouldn't be a crime anymore." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at her teacher, biting at her lower lip when she saw he very faint blush peek above Cressida's low cut sweater.
"Don't you try and get me in trouble." She smiled at Johanna and went back inside her classroom, sitting down at her desk. She was not uncomfortable nor was she unused to Johanna's various thinly veiled come-ons. Haymitch's heads up on Johanna's supposed reputation had her braced for the interactions. The boys in her class were equally as relentless, but none possessed the calm confidence with which Johanna carried her sexuality.
"Come Friday nobody will get in trouble," Johanna remarked from the doorway, tossing her teacher a playful wink before disappearing from the doorway. Cressida chuckled to herself a few times at her desk, shaking her head and absorbing herself into her work.
It's been so long since I've touched. So long since I've wanted.
Katniss did not like to lie. She spent a lot of time unknotting the various yarns people spun for Primrose, not wanting her sister to be brought up with delusions. Santa Claus was not real. Their father was not coming back, nor was he in a "better place." Saying "bloody Mary" three times in a mirror did not conjure a ghost. It is, in fact, butter.
She culled no satisfaction from lying. However it was November 11th which was a special date: Johanna's birthday. The first time around Johanna hadn't even so much as whispered that her birthday was near. It came and went and only a three-day-old piece of red velvet cake in Johanna's fridge that Katniss had accidentally come across had revealed her furtiveness. Katniss vowed not to allow that transgression to happen again. Aside from that, they desperately needed a happy occasion to help boost Johanna's morale.
For three weeks she and Finnick had pored over every detail of Johanna's surprise party. The guest list, decorations, food, music (for which Katniss was going to use Johanna's Spotify account and play her own), everything was planned to the very last detail. No streamer overlooked, no sprinkle out of place, no moody song left unchecked on Johanna's playlists. Katniss had even roped Polly into helping her. Everything was set. The only issue now was ...how to get Johanna out of her house.
Katniss knew trying to persuade Johanna into going to her house would send an immediate red flag to the girl. Getting her to go to the club would be another obvious ploy. Instead she chose Finnick's place, which was especially convenient because Finnick's mother was in Las Vegas for the weekend blowing her state checks on nickel slots.
Most of the guests had arrived by around seven o'clock, Finnick taking his natural role as leader of the group. He played music, began handing out food and drinks and moving around the room like a metal sphere inside a pinball machine. Katniss moved out on to his steps, shivering in the brisk November cold. The starlight seemed much cleared in the colder air. On her own birthday Katniss and her father would venture out away from the city they lived in toward the woods. They would lay on their backs and find Sagittarius in the sky while her father would recount the story of the famed archer. Tonight those stars weren't visible, but it seemed like every other star in the sky was.
But you made me laugh and my heart opened,
She pulled out her cell phone and pulled up Johanna's number. It rang only twice before Johanna answered. "Hey gorgeous." Even though she was across town, the name still made a small blush heat up Katniss's cheeks. Johanna had that effect on her always.
"Hey Jo. Are you busy?" Katniss began pacing on the porch, eager to avoid any noise from inside being picked up on her phone's receiver.
"Define 'busy.' If by busy you mean, are you sitting on your bed watching Orphan Black and eating a burrito? Then yeah, I'm super busy." Katniss smiled into the phone and chuckled. "Why, what's up?"
"I'm at Finnick's. I was trying to help him with a Trig problem and I'm not feeling well. Would you mind coming and picking me up?" Katniss hoped her voice sounded normal. Even better, that she sounded slightly sick.
Johanna paused her television and set the remote down. "Is this a ploy?" She was overflowing with skepticism. Katniss had gone the entire day without doing something overt for her birthday. When they met in the morning for school she had gotten her a small card and gave her a kiss. Upon arriving home Katniss had given her a birthday present - a rare South American pressing of an Ella Fitzgerald album Johanna hadn't ever been able to find. They sat quietly together on her bed to listen to it, then Katniss had gone home for dinner.
Simple but it made Johanna happy. "Nope." Johanna firmed her lips together and blew air out of her nose slowly.
"Okay. I'll be there in a sec." Johanna hung up without saying goodbye. She tossed her worn leather jacket over her arms. She tucked in the blue and red scarf Mags had woven for her into the lapels. Grabbing her beanie from next to her television she shoved it on her head and skipped down the stairs to the outside. She hoped, bone deep, that this was not a set-up. She hated birthdays. More specifically, she hated her birthday. Hers was a haplessly tragic story she always regretted telling; her father had died the week before her birthday after promising to be home for not only Thanksgiving, but Christmas. Johanna had so looked forward to seeing him again, young and unaware of the depth of his ineptitude as a parent and as a human being.
I want you to find me charming and wise. I just want you to find me somewhere here inside.
Only a day or so later he and three other soldiers were killed by an IED on their way from one camp to another. Johanna had remained glued to the news for days after that - surely they would report on soldiers killed overseas. But there was no mention of her father, no emotional homecoming of his remains. She'd found out later there were no remains. They received a flag and some pins and Johanna's birthday was a funeral.
While his death freed both she and her mother from a terrible marriage and a potentially harmful upbringing, Johanna never could shake the feeling of having missed out on having a father. On her birthday, the feeling nagged even more because somewhere, hidden deep in the woods of her memory, she felt her younger self still waiting for her daddy to come home.
She killed the engine outside Finnick's house, wound up in her thoughts about her father as she walked down his cement walkway in between the grass. Quickly she made for the door, wanting to escape the pre-winter chill that had fallen on Panem. Her birthday was always cold. She wished to have a summer birthday rife with pool parties and outdoor activities, not an indoor birthday with a crackling fire and jackets.
She swung open the door to the Odair's home and lights were flicked on. Music started. People jumped out from behind furniture and doorways. Johanna heard "SURPRISE!" screaming in her ears and she was, in fact, surprised. A chorus of happy birthday began as Katniss appeared beside Johanna and ushered her inside.
Johanna unfurled the scarf from around her neck and balled it in her fist. Quick brown eyes darted over to her girlfriend. "You said it wasn't a ploy."
Katniss pouted and took Johanna's scarf and began unzipping her jacket. "I know baby and I'm sorry. I don't like to lie but I wanted you to be surprised." The blank look on Johanna's face did not bode well. Katniss took the oversized leather jacket - a hand-me-down from Johanna's father - and placed it in the coat closet with her scarf. She returned to her girlfriend and stood in front of her, hands on sweater-clad hips. "Hey, look at me." Johanna moved her eyes down from the small crowd of people to Katniss. "If this is not okay I will tell everyone to go home."
Johanna gave her a pained smile and shook her head. "That's not necessary. I'm a big girl."
"I just thought maybe we'd have some happy times, you know? Everyone is here for you. There's cake and music and drinks." She leaned down and kissed Johanna softly. "Let's get drunk and forget all about your birthday, okay?" She let the other words hang between them unsaid: let's forget about what happened.
Johanna grinned and nodded. Drinking would certainly help. It had helped her cope with the last few weeks so she was sure it would work tonight. Her melancholy over her father didn't last too long anyway. Soon she'd remind herself of the painful marriage her mother endured and any nostalgic, rose-tinted thoughts about her father perished. Tonight those memories would be obliterated with Fireball whiskey and some good rum.
Please forgive me if I don't know what to do.
Katniss's plan worked better than she thought it would. Two hours later Johanna was within a circle of people playing Cards Against Humanity, laughing raucously and throwing back shots like Prohibition was set to start at midnight. From a seat just a few people away Katniss watched her girlfriend. The old spark of life seemed to be igniting back inside her. When their eyes met Katniss could see the cavalier and wanton look Johanna always held for her.
Johanna was in surprisingly good spirits. Due in no small part to the spirits she had been imbibing all night. Alcohol was going down her throat like water now, without the usual grimaced harshness. The people Katniss had invited - some of Finnick's drama friends, a few casual acquaintances of her own, the usual suspects from around Panem - were amazing. Nobody present had even the slightest connection to Cashmere. Being free of that blonde hellion was doing wonders for Johanna. As the night progressed she began to wish more and more heartily that everyone in the room but Katniss didn't exist.
It's an old fire, this familiar desire. But my skin is painfully new.
As the night dragged on people began filtering out of the house. Most of the bottles had been emptied and were strewn about; a small pyramid of 40 oz beer cans sat atop Finnick's dining room table. A retired game of beer pong forgotten on a long, darkly spotted folding table, music buzzing softly from the speakers. The dancing and games were over, left was just the sleepy after-party heavy-headedness of the people who were almost too drunk to move.
Annie was asleep upstairs in Finnick's room, he was downstairs attempting to clean up some of the paper plates and napkins that littered his living room and hallway. Gale and Thresh were holed away in a corner, no doubt talking about their upcoming football game on Sunday night. Katniss and Johanna were upstairs in Finnick's guest room.
Lost in this hole that has ripped through my soul.
Johanna pressed Katniss against the door tightly, her hands clumsily fumbling for the hem of Katniss's sweater. She was riding the wave of good feelings the party, and the alcohol, had provided her. This respite from the constant darkness of her mind was heightening the already pleasurable sensations of Katniss's lips on her face and neck.
The fear when they were alone was that somehow memories of Cashmere would seep in underneath the locked door of her mind. Miraculously, the blonde was far from Johanna's thoughts. The room smelled like fabric softener and Katniss tasted like mango rum. It was a world away from the familiar scent of her own room and Cashmere's perfume.
What should I think? I've had too much to drink. As my mind and my body collide.
"Fuck I've missed this," Johanna murmured against Katniss's shoulder, licking the faint sheen of sweat on the newly exposed skin. If she was being honest with herself, the desire to consume Katniss had been building in her for a while. Between her flirting with Cressida and her steamy make-out sessions with Katniss she was about ready to burst from sexual frustration. She had kept psyching herself out of it, but not tonight.
Tonight she was going to begin the process of wiping Cashmere off of her, starting with Katniss's tongue and mouth and hands. "I missed you too," Katniss confessed against her mouth as they continued to hastily undress each other. How long Katniss had ached to feel Johanna's skin beneath her hands? Like a repenting sinner Katniss dropped to her knees, holding her cheek against Johanna's bare stomach. Her hands traveled around the small of her back and the roundness of her backside, massaging the pliable flesh there. She danced her fingertips along Johanna's thighs, losing herself in the softness and the muscle she found there.
She ducked her head to brush against Johanna's folds, just the tip of her tongue gliding down Johanna's slit to taste the accumulation of arousal there. Her hands held firm to Johanna's thighs, which quivered beneath her touch. "Standing?"
Katniss grinned up at her lover, moving her fingers (regrettably) away from Johanna's thighs to hold her hands. "However you want me." Tonight was not just about them getting over Johanna's attack, it was about giving Johanna back some of her power. If she could maybe control what happened, she would be able to realize that she was still powerful and her own person. She was not broken or ruined.
Johanna's eyes glistened with a tenderness Katniss was longing to see again. She pulled her up on to her feet and wrapped her arounds around Katniss's shoulders. For a long moment they simply stared into each other's eyes, content with the silence. "I love you, Katniss." Saying those words again filled Johanna with a feeling she could barely describe. It felt like taking off a wet jacket after shoveling for hours. Relief. She wasn't ruined. She wasn't incapable of love. She was still herself, albeit possibly slightly changed.
Katniss moved her hands around Johanna's waist, lacing them together at the small of her back. Her head dipped down slightly to take Johanna's lips in a soft but persistent kiss. "I love you too, Jo."
I don't mind the weather. I've got scarves and caps and sweaters.
The letter came in a large white envelope, the red seal affixed to the top proudly. Katniss had been waiting a while to receive this letter. Within it held the answer to the next four years of her life. So much of her future was being pressed between her fingers. So much of her future just a pile of fabric and ink. Katniss sat down at her kitchen table, fingering the letter in her hands. She wanted to open it. She wanted to know her future. Who didn't?
I've got long johns under slacks for blustery days.
The snow howled outside the kitchen window, splattering the glass with small puffs of white that had begun to coagulate in the rapidly dropping temperatures. Her mother and Prim would be back from grocery shopping soon. They'd want to know what was inside the letter. But Katniss couldn't do it. It wasn't just her future hidden in the pages, it was Johanna's. If she had gotten into Stanford on early action, then what did that mean for them? What happened to Johanna's dreams? What happened to them? Their relationship was so new and so newly repaired that it made the letter bittersweet.
She grasped it firmly and tore open the top flap. She withdrew the heavy paper and set it in front of her. Gray eyes diligently ran across the page. "We are pleased to inform you..." She was in. Her first choice. The next four years of her life would be nestled in the hills between San Francisco and San Jose, basking in the California sun. Miles away from the cold blow of Panem's harsh winters. Miles away from the warmth of Johanna.
I think that it's brainless to assume making changes to your window's view will give a new perspective.
What was she going to tell her? They had avoided the topic of their future since the day they got together. She knew, she saw it in Johanna's eyes, that their relationship was going to be altered by the distance between them. So much of their passion and joy derived from their physical nearness. Thinking upon being away from Johanna was like going to summer camp and missing your bed. She was comfort, she was home.
But the steel truth was that going to college was her father's dream for her. He hadn't ever gotten the chance to go and desperately wished for Katniss to attend a prestigious university. He had waxed poetic with her about dropping her off on her first day, the car filled with her things from home, eager to see her off on her first step into adulthood. Moisture collected in her eyes as she recalled the light in her father's eyes when she told him she wanted to go to Stanford. He had assured her that if she continued to get good grades, she could get in with no problem. They had looked up the campus, taking virtual tours and imagining how wonderfully warm the semesters would be. How different it would be to go trick-or-treating in the warm summer sun.
It was her dream and his dream. It was one of the last living, tangible parts of her father she had.
And the hardest part is yet to come.
The look on her mother's face when she told her the news warmed Katniss to her core. Her mother remembered how fervently her father had insisted both she and Prim attend college. She hugged her daughter close to her body, tears bouncing off the top of Katniss's head. "Your father would be so proud of you today."
He would, Katniss thought. He'd take her in his arms and swing her around the room. He would probably grab his fiddle and play a tune for Katniss and Primrose to dance. He'd take her mother in his arms and hold her tightly. They'd celebrate. But instead it was just she and Prim giving each other sad smiles as their mother cried in pride and loss.
I don't mind restrictions if you're just blacking out the friction. It's just an escape.
The next hurdle was to tell Johanna. The freak snowstorm gave her a reason to stay home, and she reasoned that telling her over the phone would not suffice. She would have to be in person, feeling Johanna's warmth, smelling her scent, gauging her feelings in her expressive eyes. As well as she knew her, she couldn't get a read on what Johanna's reaction would be. Surely she'd be proud, happy for Katniss. Johanna was not completely selfish. But there would be a sadness to it. The beginning of the end.
Katniss couldn't imagine being without Johanna's love. Her happiness often resided well within the confines of Johanna's big heart and her deep brown eyes. It was a sick co-dependency she never thought she'd feel for anyone. Without Johanna in her life she felt like she might get lost. She might slip back into the colorless world she lived in before her. That's not what Johanna would want. It's not what her father would want.
Maybe Johanna would go to school in California, too. She was bright and talented, she would have her pick of universities. Katniss held onto that feather of hope as she sat in her bed and stared at her acceptance letter laid out on the comforter. Yes, they would stay together. They had to. They were meant to be.
And the hardest part is yet to come.
When you will cross the country alone.
Author's Note: A warm thank you for the continued follows/favorites and reviews. It validates my reasoning behind putting off real work to write this. ;)
Music: "Please Forgive Me" by Melissa Etheridge and "Blacking Out The Friction" by Death Cab for Cutie. Cressida's opening poem was the last line of D.H. Lawrence's "Grey Evening."