I don't own The Hunger Games.
"Roses? Seriously? Could you be any more…Cliché?"
Finnick sighed and thrust the bouquet of flowers at Izabelle.
"Just take them and don't be judgmental." He instructed, and waited as she want to find a vase.
"I'm sorry." She said when she arrived back at the front door.
"It's okay. You criticise people for a living, so it's only natural that you do the same to me." Finnick grinned as she stepped outside and shut the door behind her.
"I do not!" Izabelle slapped his shoulder before linking her arm through his. "One thing though?"
"Anything."
She reached up and pulled his backwards baseball cap off of his head, leaving him in his black suit.
"Much better." Izabelle smiled and handed him his hat.
"Whatever." He stuck his tongue out at her. "You look great.
"I know." Izabelle shrugged. She was wearing a plain black dress that hugged her slim figure like she had been sewn into it. "Where are we going?"
"Fantaisie, that posh restaurant you like." Finnick explained. "We have a private table."
"Good. That's a good plan." Izabelle nodded in approval. Finnick couldn't help but think that that was the closet she had come to giving him a compliment in months.
"Well, I'm glad you approve." Finnick smiled at her as he opened his car door for her.
When they arrived at the restaurant they were seated in a sectioned off corner, away from the prying eyes of people who may have recognized Finnick.
"I hate that we have to be so isolated." Izabelle sighed as the waiter handed her a menu.
"I'm sorry, Iz. It's this or be asked for autographs all night, and I have a feeling that you wouldn't take that too well." Finnick smirked at her over the top of his menu.
"I'm going to freshen up." She walked away from their table, leaving Finnick alone to wonder how she needed to 'freshen up' when they had only been there for five minutes.
"Finnick?"
He froze. That was a very recognizable voice.
"Sorry ma'am, but you can't come back here." The man stood the side of their corner of the restaurant held out a hand to keep Annie Cresta from approaching him.
"It's okay, she's a friend." Finnick explained, and Annie ducked under the barrier.
"Hey." Annie grinned and slid into the newly empty seat. She seemed to think twice about it, as she frowned. "This isn't weird, is it?"
"'Course not. You're welcome anywhere I go." He teased.
"Smooth." Annie rolled her eyes at him, but she was smiling. "So, what are you doing here all by your lonesome?"
"I'm not alone." Finnick gestured to the second menu.
"Oh!" Annie said, looking startled. "I'm sorry, I should move, I-"
"It's cool, Cresta." Finnick put a hand on her forearm to keep her still. "She won't be done in the restroom for another ten minutes, at least."
"Oh, okay then. I'm sure Parker won't mind if I keep you company in this lonely corner for just ten minutes." Annie smiled and settled back in the chair.
"Parker?" Finnick raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Yeah. We're dating now." Annie nodded. "I know what you're thinking. He's in the wrong tax bracket for a place this fancy."
"No! I wasn't…I didn't-"
"I'm teasing." Annie grinned, showing off her white teeth. Finnick shook his head, laughing.
"I hate you."
"No you don't. Hey, your cousin was super cute this morning." Annie said, still grinning.
"Yeah, Aidan's a good kid. He's a lot like me." Finnick winked at Annie as she rolled her eyes again.
"Whatever. Have you ordered yet?"
"Not yet, but I'll probably just get a cheeseburger. It's real fancy, though it'll probably still piss Iz off. What are you having?"
"Oh, just a salad." Annie waved him off. "I'm in training, you know?"
"Yeah…So am I. I got MVP last season, and I still eat cheeseburgers. It's okay to let loose sometimes." Finnick said, pushing the bowl of breadsticks towards Annie, who waved him off.
"How old are you, again?" Annie asked, avoiding the topic.
"I turned twenty two three months ago. And you, Annie Cresta, are turning nineteen next month."
"How do you know that?"
Finnick leaned in closer to her.
"I make it my business to know."
"Um, Finnick? Why is there w waitress in my chair?"
Finnick glanced up at Izabelle, who was frowning impatiently at Annie and tapping her foot.
"S-sorry." She stuttered. "I, um…"
"This is Annie. She's one of Panem's cheerleaders. Don't you recognize her?" Finnick asked, hoping that Izabelle hadn't seen how into the conversation he had been.
"No." She deadpanned, sitting down in the chair that Annie had now vacated. "I don't make it my business to know people that low down on the payroll."
"Iz." Finnick hissed through gritted teeth. Calmly, she folded her napkin over her lap.
"This place is a little pricey for you, isn't it Annie? Though I must say, that is a lovely Prada dress you have on. Did you steal it?"
Finnick rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands.
"I, uh, should get back to Parker. See you, Finnick." Annie muttered, and all but ran in the other direction.
"Why would you do that?" Finnick snapped, looking up at Izabelle.
"Don't take that tone with me, Finnick." She looked furious. "Why do you even care?"
"She's my friend!"
"Well." Izabelle looked at him coldly. "Maybe you should pick some better friends."
…
Annie was only one hour late to her shift at Walmart.
"Thanks for covering for me." She said to Madge, who had clocked her in at a regular time.
"No problem. How was your date?"
"It was…interesting." She unlocked the small gate to the till and stepped inside to set her machine up for the night. "I ran into Finnick Odair."
"The quarterback? I remember you saying he was a friend." Madge said, shooting random barcodes around the store with her scanner gun.
"Yeah, but me and his girlfriend definitely aren't." Annie sighed. She sat down on the stool and pinned her name tag to her shirt.
"What happened?"
"Well, I saw him sitting on his own so I went over to say hey. We were having a nice time when she came back and accused me of stealing the dress I had on." Annie explained.
"No!" Madge gasped. "Which dress?"
"The light pink Prada one with the black lace."
"No way! Your parents got you that when you graduated, right?"
"Right. She thinks I'm some poor, struggling cheerleader who can barely make ends meet. It doesn't bother me though. She can think what she wants." Annie shrugged, typing random numbers into the till.
"Ugh. If I were you, I would have put her in her place. Your family are rich Annie- you should have made her feel like a fool." Madge sighed, flipping her hair.
"No, it's okay. Honestly, I don't mind it." Annie didn't want to flaunt the fact that her family had money- she had not earned it herself, it was no great attribute. She just didn't understand why others didn't see it that way too.
…
"You can talk in more than one word sentences, Finnick. It won't kill you." Izabelle sighed. She rested her elbow against the window of Finnick's car as her drove her home in near to silence.
"You don't have to be so rude to my friends." He shrugged, taking a sharp left.
"I don't understand what you're problem is." Izabelle glared at him. "She probably just wants your money, or your fame."
"You don't get it, Izabelle. You don't get it because you've had money your whole life. Not every person on the planet that makes less than the average salary a year is out there to drain the rich people dry. Most of them just want a good friend." Finnick said irately.
"Besides." He added after an awkward silence. "Johanna told me that she graduated from Elite."
"Elite Academy for Athletic Supporters?" Izabelle's jaw dropped.
"Yeah. I hear the tuition there is about forty thousand dollars a year." Finnick said with a clenched jaw. "Don't be too quick to judge people."
"It doesn't matter anyway. She ruined her night." Izabelle dismissed his words.
"No." He pulled up outside her large, gated house. "You did."
Finnick waited until she had gone inside before pulling his phone out of his pocket and speed dialling Johanna.
"It's nine thirty, Finnick. I'm working out. This had better be fucking important."
"You know, it's really nice to hear the sound of your voice too, Johanna." Finnick retorted sarcastically.
"Finnick."
When Johanna used that tone of voice, he knew not to mess with her.
"I need Annie's number." Finnick sighed.
"Why?" Johanna asked suspiciously. In the background he could hear a rock song blaring through speakers.
"Iz was rude and now I need to apologise." He explained as he wearily rubbed at his eyes.
"No, she needs to stop being a pompous bitch and say sorry herself." Johanna snorted.
"Just give me the number, Jo. Please."
"Ugh, fine. I'll text it to you."
A few minutes later Finnick was holding his phone to his ear, waiting for Annie to pick up. She did so on the fifth ring.
"Whoever this is, I'm sorry but I'm working right now and-"
"Annie."
"Oh." She sounded surprised, and Finnick could practically feel her running a hand through her hair. "Hey. How did you get my number?"
"The source of all evil." He grinned.
"Johanna?"
"Yeah." Nervously, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I-"
"Don't worry about it, Finnick. It's not a big deal." Annie's voice was light and airy as she waved him off.
"It is a big deal. Izabelle's spent so much time with jumped executives and people with enough money to feed the third world that she's starting to think she's better than others. She's not usually so bad with it though." Finnick rested his head in his left hand and rubbed his forehead.
"Honestly Finnick, I'm over it. I'm sure she's a great person and I'm sorry that we didn't get off on the right foot, but it doesn't really matter. You don't need to apologise- I probably won't even talk to her again." Annie was rustling something as she spoke, but Finnick still heard every word she said.
"Well, okay then. But I'm sorry I didn't say anything at the time."
"Don't sweat it, Finnick. Seriously."
"I swear that I'll never let her talk to you or anyone else like that again."
"Thanks." He could hear the smile in her voice. "I have to go now."
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, maybe."
"See you."
Finnick clicked his phone off and sat in silence outside Izabelle's house for a few minutes, wondering how Annie could be so forgiving after what Izabelle had said. The silence was interrupted by his phone beeping, signalling a new message. He opened it and started to read.
Hey Finnick, I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I wouldn't have said it if I knew you would react so badly. Again, I'm sorry. –Izabelle
"Yeah." Finnick muttered under his breath. "I'm sorry too."