On the final day of training, all of the tributes were being picked off by the Sponsors to go to their private sessions. The tension was obviously very high and so palpable that even a sword couldn't carve it. However, at lunch, this was the first time that Rio and I talked about our real strategy for the Games, rather than just eating in silence. I was usually slow at eating the food we were given. Rio devoured it, probably to feed the muscles rippling under his tight training shirt. I had seen the glances not only from the Sponsors.
"I was planning," Rio began, "that when the Games begin you run and grab a backpack whilst I grab the weapons and we can go from there." Rio pointed a District Four roll in my face, whilst holding another uneaten one in his other hand. The unnerved look of determination and certainty on his face made the plan seem flawless, even though that it was completely insane.
By the time that we agreed, the Gamemakers had just called Speck Chrommel, the District Three Tribute with copper coloured pigtail braids for her private session. She took a quick peak at me but swiftly turned away and walked faster when she noticed Rio. He didn't seem to notice, as he was tearing into his second bread roll. I knew that there was some time to kill, depending on how good she would be.
"Do you have a strategy for your private session?" I asked popping a piece of District Eleven's moon roll in my mouth. Rio flashed a self-assured smile.
"I guess you will just have to wait for the scores, Cresta."
I sat back in my seat and rolled my eyes. "Oh come on." I feign moaned flicking a piece of bread at his face. We both laughed. "It's not like I can copy what you can do anyway," I admitted. My tone was light, masking my honesty and my fear.
Rio responded with a shrug and his confident smile contorted itself into a friendlier one. I smiled back. I didn't think that it was right to call Rio a friend, but in my eyes he was more than just an ally, but there is no word in between so I just stuck with ally. I just hoped in that moment that our plan was good enough to succeed. At least for the first hour.
"What are you doing for your private session?" He asked, dabbing seaweed crumbs off the table with his fingers and poking them into his mouth. I decided to give him the same treatment and just shrugged.
"Wait for the scores, Ellwitt." I smirked and he crossed his arms over his chest.
A minute later Rio's name was called. He took one last glance at me and leapt out of his chair.
"Good luck!" I called to him. The corner of Rio's mouth twitched back at me and he strode out of the cafeteria, looking as confident and poised as ever. The remaining tributes didn't dare to turn around at my loudness. We were the last of the Careers. The biggest threats. Well, for Rio anyway. I guessed that that he put himself on show to display how much confidence he had in himself to win in order to scare the other tributes, and it could have worked if anyone was paying attention. But there was still one question that remained.
What the hell am I going to show them?
I sat there in my chair, alone for the next five minutes pondering my choices and rubbing my sweaty hands together, working out strategies. If I was to get a high score, then the others would see me as a threat and try to kill me first. However, if I was to get a low score, the Sponsors wouldn't see me as worthy for their money and won't send me any gifts and I'd die anyway, even with Rio as my ally. It made me pull my hair in frustration and want to scream my lungs out.
"Annie Cresta." The Gamemaker called. Out of time. I slowly rose out of my seat, trying but failing to walk out with the same sureness as Rio did. I guessed that my shaky hands gave away how nervous I was.
Before entering the room, I inhaled a deep breath and stepped through the door. The Sponsors sat on a balcony that overlooked the gymnasium. A perk of being in a low number district was that they hadn't had too much to drink at that point, and were still a tad interested in seeing the rest of the tributes. With no plan in mind I tried to look around the gymnasium for inspiration, but the overwhelming number of choices didn't make it any easier, so I unfortunately turned to the Sponsors.
"Annie Cresta. I'm from District Four." I said, setting my gaze upwards at them, announcing my presence.
Confidence. Confidence.
The Sponsors were all different but exactly the same in the ridiculously absurd and expensive outfits that they wore. However, there was this female Sponsor with gold hair and seriously exaggerated light green makeup. It made me think of Finnick, and thinking of Finnick gave me an idea.
I got some thick rope and quickly tied a twitch-up snare that would send its prey into the air when triggered. I grabbed a surprisingly heavy mannequin and hauled it along the floor. I checked over my shoulders to the Sponsors and I could tell that they were slowly losing interest in me. I knew that I had to work faster. With one final push the mannequin was sent into the air by one foot caught in the snare. It dangled like a dead animal, I looked back and only two were paying attention. I swiped three throwing knives from the table and cut the rope. The mannequin fell. With three swift movements I threw the knives at it. Impaling it every single time. The mannequin broke on the ground with an echoing sound that caught the attention of the previously distracted Sponsors. The mannequin's limbs were distorted, its head cracked open with knives sticking out of its shoulder, stomach and thigh. They weren't immediate death shots but I was still impressed with myself that I actually hit the thing. With nothing left in my hands and clearly with no other plan they decided to dismiss me. I bowed my head, thanked them and headed out the gymnasium whilst rubbing my sweaty hand on my trousers.
Time moved so slowly as I headed back to the apartment. I recalled every single detail of my private session, wondering what I could have done better, or if it was enough even for a gift of a slice of bread. To outsiders, I was obviously in a trance. Maybe I was. My mind would not stop churning.
Back at the apartment I walked in on Rio in the living room, giving some sort of demonstration about how he used special sword techniques to Mags, Finnick and Lola. He showed them large thrashing movements and cheesy sword sound effects. He was obviously pleased with himself. From the look that Lola was giving him, I could tell that she was just as impressed. However, Rio instantly stopped when he saw me standing in the doorway. The other three turned to me and smiled.
"How did it go-o," Lola sang, clapping her excessively jewelled hands. "I want to hear details."
Deciding to not be secretive and to hopefully stop the replaying memories, I sat next to Lola and told them what I did. When I finished I looked around the room for their reactions, Lola thoughtfully nodded, Rio looked deep in concentration and Finnick looked pleased and rubbed a hand over his face. It seemed like he was attempting to wipe away his expression off his face. He succeeded and his neutral countenance returned.
"That sounds great, Annie," Mags replied, beaming. "It showed your practical and survival skills whilst also showing your fighting skills." The sincerity was there. I was so grateful for Mags. I gave a shy but happy smile in return and Lola nodded her head in agreement, obviously not knowing what Mags or I were talking about.
"It's too bad you didn't get any kill shots in." Rio added, looking from under his brow and shrugged.
"At least that it's more…original than doing what probably both the District One and Two boys did." Finnick surprisingly shot back, staring down Rio who just glared back at him.
"Finnick." Mags said in a hushed but stern tone.
There was a brief moment of silence.
"I think I'm going to lie down for a while," Rio said dully and sullenly exited the room. Lola's smile dimmed under her copper lipstick. Mags took one last look at Finnick and followed Rio. Leaving just me, Lola and Finnick, until there was a knock at the door.
"Oh," Lola exclaimed, with her smile returning. "That must be Azula, Ivo and the Prep Teams." She looked to us for the equivalent of her enthusiasm. She wasn't so lucky. In a playful manner, she dismissed us with a wave. In her skyscraper heels, Lola flittered out of the room, many bells on her dress jingling as she exited.
"So," Finnick said, sliding over on the couch to sit next to me, his leg brushing up against mine.
"So what?" I said, crossing my legs in an attempt to reduce the blush on my face and my rapid heartbeat. Our eyes were averting each other.
"I have to say that your originality is lacking but," Finnick said and bobbed his head from side to side in fake thought, "it seemed like a good show." Obviously he was referring to himself and what he did in his Games, and even though that I tweaked his idea slightly; Finnick more than most people could see that I copied him.
"We all can't be the great and famous Finnick Odair. We need to get our inspiration from somewhere." I replied in a dull tone, imagining what he could be thinking of me right now. I shrugged and there was a silence between us.
"Look, Annie I-" Finnick began before a delicate pair of hands landed on our shoulders.
"Dinner is served, you two." Lola grinned and made her way to the dining room.
"What were you going to say to me, Finnick?" I aksed. His eyes flicked to mine and he stalked off towards the sleeping area. My chest felt like it was draining dry.
"I'll go get Mags and Rio," he shouted to Lola who just shooed him away. I sat there stunned until Azula called me to sit next to her and talk over some outfit plans for the interview. I sighed and drew my eyes away from Finnick's retreating silhouette. I headed to the dining room.
After dinner the scores were to be presented, and we all sat nervously in the living room, waiting for the televising to start. It was Caesar Flickerman, the host of the interviews that read them out every year and like every year he changed his hair colour, this year it was a very bright canary yellow. The scores went up in District order so the Careers' would be announced first. Satin and her District partner, Atlas scoring impressive tens, with Maeve's District partner also scoring a ten. However, Maeve herself scoring a nine. I knew that she was going to be heartily pissed off by that. Next there was Speck and her district partner that scored a six and a five. I gripped the chair with fearful anticipation of both mine and Rio's score.
"Now onto District Four," Caesar began, "Rio Ellwitt, has a score of ten."
I sighed in relief. There was a cheer throughout our entire team, but it was quickly silenced by Mags as Caesar was about to read out my score.
"Annie Cresta, with a score of nine." I breathed out another sigh of relief and zoned out of hearing the other tribute scores. Since I received the same score as Maeve. I hoped that maybe, the Careers would see me as less as a meal.
But what if she gets angry that you got the same score as her and make her want to bludgeon your head with the mace that she always trained with?
I gulped at the thought and I went a pale white.
"Are you alright, Annie?" I quickly turned to see Mags with her hand on my shoulder, which made me feel a lot better.
"I-I'm fine." I half-lied. I tried to smile reassuringly, but wobbling as I stood up. I held the end of the couch and swallowed.
"Excuse me," I said and walked out of the living room.
I was on the balcony and expected Mags to be the one to find me. It was Finnick.
"I thought that I'd find you in here." He chuckled and ended up standing next to me on the balcony, keeping quite a bit of distance between us. He copied my stance and crossed his arms over the edge. We stood in silence for a few moments. For the first time, that was perfectly fine by me.
"You okay?" Finnick asked, looking slightly concerned.
I nodded, but with the look of disbelief on his face I shook my head.
"What's up?" He asked, leaning closer to me.
I took a deep breath and told him about Maeve and Satin's teasing, but excluding the parts with him in it. He actually seemed like he cared with what I was saying and nodded whenever I admitted how I felt. Scared. Disheartened. But right in that moment I felt so pathetic. Maybe I would always be the scared girl he truly met on the train.
"This doesn't make you weak, Annie," Finnick replied, seemingly to read my mind. He edged himself closer to me. My heart was becoming restless. "Just don't let them get to you. No one can prepare for what's in the Games, so they will be just as clueless as you will be." He widened his eyes after just processing what he just said and put his face in his hands, and I think that I saw a little red. "Oh God. I didn't mean that Annie. What I-"
"It's okay." I cut him off, looking down at my shoes and shrugged. From the corner of my eye, I noticed that he was still looking at me. Exploring my expression. I slowly lifted my head back up. "Besides, you got a nine in your private session and look at you now." I smiled at him, appreciative for helping me and not calling me a weakling. A beautiful fragile smile moulded onto his tanned face, but not at me, towards the Capitol.
"Look at me now," he repeated slowly to himself. His hand was so close to mine. All I wanted to do was hold it. Suddenly, a rasp of a knock on the door and Lola poked her head through. The shock broke us apart.
"Come through, you two. We are celebrating!" She sang and waited for us to follow her.
We walked back side by side in silence, with Finnick and I stealing at least one glance at each other. Not ever at the same time. But not unnoticed.
The celebrations were short as Rio and I had a long day of interview preparations the day after. Finnick and I attempted to avoid direct eye contact of each other. Our stolen glances seemed illegal, yet almost right.
