She is so completely over this detention.
Katniss could be bagging groceries the Hob Market, making overtime pay. But, no. She's stuck here in an uncomfortable wooden chair, forced to compose an essay apologizing for her mistakes.
But she's not sorry about what she did. She probably feels less remorse than even Johanna Mason, and she's pretty sure that Johanna doesn't have a soul.
She wants to say that what she did was warranted. People claim self-defense in murder trials all the time; why can't Katniss claim self-preservation in her own case?
Cato Roberts got what he deserved. But she can't help but think that he wasn't the person who deserved her wrath the most. No. The real person escaped, unscathed.
And she will never forgive him.
…
Johanna chooses this moment to vault over her desk and head for the heavy wooden door, currently hanging ajar, at the library's entrance.
"Hey," Peeta calls after her, sitting up straighter in his chair. "What do you think you're doing?"
She turns around to face him, walking backwards now. "Fixing the door."
"What—?" Peeta's jaw hangs open in stunned silence as he watches Johanna start fiddling with the screws on the door hinges. He nudges Finnick's arm, and they both stare, awed, when she extracts a Swiss army knife from her boot.
"The fuck?" Finnick hisses, attracting Annie's and Katniss' attention. Four pairs of eyes are fixed on their bold, brazen peer. "Johanna!"
"Yeah?" Her bored voice echoes across the room.
"What are you doing?" Finnick stage-whispers. He's intensely aware of Principal Snow sitting in his office across the hall, his door propped open with a trashcan. "Sit down before he sees you!"
With a final flick of her wrist, Johanna cleanly removes a screw from the hinge. It falls to the carpet with a soft thud, and she kicks it out of sight. As soon as she steps out of the threshold, the door clangs shut behind her. She grins, mischievous.
"What?" Johanna asks innocently, jogging over to her seat. Snow's muffled bellow of utter disbelief echoes down the hall. "I tried to fix it. It just, like, shut. Spontaneously."
She has just barely slid into her seat when Snow comes crashing through the door. His face is crimson, and he's tugging at his tie. "Who did this?" he demands, wheezing for breath. "Who closed this door?"
"I think a screw fell out, sir," Annie pipes up. Johanna's head flicks to the opposite side of the room, where she appraises her meek vocal supporter. She wasn't expecting that.
"Screws don't just fall out of doors," Snow growls, rounding on the wide-eyed girl.
Peeta clears his throat. "I don't know what to tell you, Mr. Snow. It just happened."
Snow is getting angrier by the second. It's kind of terrifying to watch, but if Peeta removes himself from the situation, it's almost comical. He can practically see the steam pouring out of the principal's ears.
"You." He narrows his eyes at Johanna. "You did this."
She bats her black-rimmed eyes at him, all too innocent. "No, I didn't."
"Don't you dare lie to me, Ms. Mason." Somehow, Snow manages to maintain some decorum. "Put the screw back."
"I don't have it."
"Put it back."
"I said that I don't have it."
"I'm asking you for the last time!"
"Sir, we all saw the screw fall out," Finnick offers. "Didn't we?" He glances around the room, searching for confirmation. For complicity.
One by one, heads nod. Peeta, then Johanna, and Annie.
After a pregnant pause, Katniss nods, too.
Snow folds his arms across his chest. "Well. Someone fix the door."
"It's broken, sir."
He huffs. "Fine. I'll just prop it open, then."
They watch as he drags a folding chair into the doorway, and unsuccessfully stifle laughter when the door crunches the metal chair with its force as it slams shut.
Snow tries to move a set of low shelves into the crack, but Johanna speaks up. "You can't do that," she calls. "Fire code violation, or something."
He growls. The students have won. He'll have to settle for checking in on them every half hour. Or something.
As he stalks out of the library, Johanna cheerfully flips him off.