Chapter 4
I've Just Seen A Face
Had it been another day
I might have looked the other way
And I'd never been aware
But as it is I'll dream of her tonight
I release my hold on Eli's hand before anything problematic can happen. Its not like Haymitch could possibly be mad at me. Even though Eli and I are close friends, Haymitch doesn't want him hurting me, he's playing the father role.
He still looks pissed, scowling at Eli.
Haymitch doesn't know Eli well, only in passing at the Hob, so Haymitch doesn't know that Eli and I are close friends already, and doesn't know the type of person Eli is.
I was only trying to reassure Eli, which nobody could-or should even think about-faulting me for. Haymitch needs to understand that Eli wasn't trying anything.
"Haymitch. What's with the look?" I say. Maybe a little teensy bit snootily.
"You know what," He snaps back. Ugh.
"Look, I'm just comforting a friend. Okay? Is that wrong?"
His eyes soften slightly as he looks at me.
Turning his gaze back to Eli, he steps close to him so he's in Eli's face and whispers with a venom I didn't think he could possess, "I don't know what the hell your angle is with Prim, but you will not be endangering her life in these games. You will not act all buddy-buddy with her here, and then betray her in that arena."
"Haymitch-" I try to interject, to make him stop talking. Eli wouldn't do that. Would he? I feel tears watering my eyes at the thought of it.
No. No he would never…
"No, you need to hear this, Primrose," He only uses my full name when he's angry or serious. Great.
"He will get close to you. When the gong sounds, he will hurt you. He will chase you. He will murder you and you will die," He spits the word and I flinch away. "You can't get close to him or anybody in this arena. Trust no one. Alliances only break you in the end, in one way or another," he says with a weird glint in his eyes that fades so fast I'm not sure if I imagined it.
My eyes are burning, but I refuse to cry. I cant look at him or Eli or Effie.
"It might happen when you're eating or sleeping or-"
I cant take it anymore. "STOP! Just stop talking! Please!" I scream at him, my voice breaking.
He's more than a little surprised, since I don't raise my voice at anyone really.
"How dare you," I say with venom. "You really have no faith, then? That I might be able to know who I can and can't trust?" His eyes immediately show regret that I ignore. "I thought I had one person here who at least thought I'd make it home. I guess I assumed wrong. You've already given up on me. Already know I'm going to die. Maybe I really don't know who I can and can't trust."
One single tear falls as I stare him down before walking away, down the hall, not even bothering to look at their expressions.
I don't want to go to my room, or anywhere near Haymitch or Eli right now.
Apparently we're picking up district one soon, our last pickup. District twelve is always picked up first, since its farthest from the Capitol, and district one is last, since its closest. Each district has two cars (huge), and each has four bedrooms, four bathrooms, two lounge rooms, and one kitchen and dining room.
I decide to go for a stroll to cool off. The whole argument took place while we were stopped, I realize, probably picking up district two.
I walk to the end of the hall and open the door. There is a big gust of wind and I'm nearly swept backwards. I grab onto the rail and hold on tightly. If I want to go to the next car I have to jump about four feet. The train is picking up speed, so I have to go soon.
Piece of cake, right?
I can do it… in 1…2…3…
OW.
Was not expecting to hit the metal doorframe with my foot, but now it's throbbing and probably will bruise.
Great day, today. Sure is.
I quickly slide open the door and go inside. Limp inside is more accurate actually.
I don't bother to look around but its hard not to notice the walls.
Fuchsia. Gag. Why?
District twelve can't afford bright colors, which means this is probably district one's car. That must mean the next one it district two's.
The color is giving me a migraine. Literally.
I slouch onto the floor with my back against the wall and close my eyes, massaging my temples.
"Are you okay?" A deep, slightly husky voice asks.
Jesus. This day sucks.
I look up and narrow my eyes.
A boy about my age I didn't notice before is standing before me with slight concern and curiosity on his face.
He has short blond hair with these dark navy blue eyes. He's all sharp angles and hard lines, but his features are soft and give him a less intimidating look. His muscles are bulging everywhere. I only know that because of the black t-shirt he's wearing. Its not like I was staring.
There's a small symbol sewn on the right side of his chest but I can't make it out. He has on a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips.
I try not to notice how everything about him is attractive.
Results? Unsuccessful.
What's worse is he's probably my competition. Great.
"What are you doing in here?" I ask accusingly.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He smirks.
I roll my eyes. He's one of those. The cocky, arrogant, smirky kind.
"Enjoying the lovely décor. How about you?" I ask. I cant help but smile when he laughs. I try not to notice how amazing his laugh is.
Results? Unsuccessful.
"Just debating using the color for my room back home. What do you think?" He asks with a genuine smile.
"I think it has just the right amount of masculinity for you," I respond with a serious face. His loud laughter echoes throughout the large room.
"Well if that doesn't convince me I don't know what will."
"Perhaps the daily headache you'll be sure to get every day," I look around the room.
I close my eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing in my head. I know its not actually from the color, but from tension. And from trying to hold in my tears.
Crap. Can this guy tell? I wipe my eyes at once to make sure.
He looks at me curiously and it confirms he knows, but doesn't say anything.
"But don't worry, I have some herbs I can send you back with, if you decide to paint it. It'll help with the headaches." I laugh jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh, really? I don't know anything about that stuff. Are you a healer or something?"
His question snaps me back into reality.
Oh god. I just revealed one of my best advantages to another tribute.
I forgot where I am.
The Hunger Games.
I don't know his name or district. I mean I was joking around with him a minute ago and he was nice and funny, but he could be terrible. What if he was a career?
No, he couldn't be. I immediately dismiss the thought. He doesn't look evil…
Maybe I need to learn to use a filter more.
I straighten my shoulders and arrange my face from smiling to cold and emotionless, and stand up. He immediately scans my face and notices the difference, and I think I see a faint look of… hurt in his eyes.
I make my way to the door, but I hear his heavy footsteps approaching, and they're pretty loud. Like really loud. Disadvantage for him, I guess.
He grabs my wrists.
"Wait. Where are you going?"
He actually looks…sad. And somwhat lonely. I feel terrible now. I turned on my bitch switch for no reason. Honestly? I kind of want to comfort him and give him a hug because of the desolate look on his face.
But I remember Haymitch's words, even though they were cruel.
Trust no one. He'll try to kill me. Everyone will.
I have to get home to Katniss and the baby.
But I can't be mean to this boy when he's obviously hurting.
I sigh, "I'm going back to my mentor. I left without telling him where I was going," I turn to walk away but add, "and a word of advice, I don't think the color suits you."
I smile at him, "see you later."
He has a small grin on his face now, and I try not to notice how handsome it makes him look, especially with the two dimples in his cheeks.
Results? Unsuccessful.
I don't think Haymitch will be worried about me. I'm angry at him for not believing in me or trusting me. How can he not think I have a chance?
I walk into the lounge room.
"There you are, Rosie. Where were you? We looked everywhere!" Haymitch said tiredly, running his hand through his shaggy hair. I felt a small twinge of guilt at seeing the worried look on his face.
I glared.
I'm still angry at him for doubting me. I doubt my abilities too, but that doesn't mean he should.
"I took a walk. I met a boy. We discussed fuchsia." I say emotionless, but smiling at the memory on the inside.
He gives me a look. You know, the one where someone is debating whether to commit you to a psych ward
Effie, however, looks extremely pleased about the mention of the color.
Before Haymitch can ask, Effie jumps in, "Ooh! Fuchsia on the train? I love that color. The other districts have different colors they prefer on their cars. The only district that could possibly have fuchsia is…"
I look down as she trails off awkwardly, preparing myself for Haymitch's blow.
"One! ONE! Why would you go to district one's car? Do you want to get targeted in training? In the arena?" He asks. He's so angry, but so am I from our earlier argument. I know that if I got caught by district one they would be angry with me and take it out on me for breaking into their car.
"No, but you're so sure that I will, aren't you? It was empty. If you haven't noticed, we haven't even picked up the district one tributes yet." Did he really not notice?
He looks so confused I almost laugh. Almost.
"Then who did you meet? What district? Maybe you can ally or something."
Oh. I didn't even ask.
"Oh. I don't know, actually. I didn't ask. I don't even know his name."
He rolls his eyes. I sigh and sit down next to him.
Suddenly, the Capitol comes into view.
Eli and I run to the window. A crowd has materialized at the train station. They're all shouting and waving.
The Capitol is so beautiful and big and wonderful. But in a way, it almost because of those things that it suddenly makes me feel so homesick. It's so different, from the coal dust covered streets, from the enchanting woods outside the fence that is my second home. The Capitol is beautiful, but will never compare to the beauty of my own district.
How can something so wonderful harbor such horrible people?
I do what I know I have to, however. I smile, and I wave through the window, even though it's probably the fakest smile I've ever shown on my face.
I've never seen anything like this before.
The people are dressed in bright colors with different paints on their faces.
I force the smile to remain on my face and feel Haymitch's hand on my shoulder and I know what he's telling me: good job. He squeezes it gently and I turn to face him with a grin. I forget about everything he said to me for a moment. He grins back.
A voice announces it is safe to leave the train.
We leave and enter the living quarters where we will be staying for the duration of our stay before we enter the arena.
It's dinner time, so before we take a tour of the rooms and bedrooms we will sit down for dinner.
I take a seat next to Haymitch at the table. Across from me Effie and Eli sit. Usually I would sit next to Eli but Haymitch forced me to sit next to him like the protective 'dad' he is. I wonder if he thinks of me as a daughter. Or if I'm just some clingy little girl to him.
I put a napkin in my lap and try to ignore Effie's beam at my manners.
Haymitch unexpectedly takes my hand and leans in and whispers, "Meet me on the roof at midnight, Rosie." I nod in acknowledgement.
Effie pipes up in her usual chipper voice, "So, tonight, we will be viewing the reapings of all the districts. They will take place after dinner. Then you can do whatever you want. Tomorrow you will meet your stylists who will prepare you for the opening ceremonies. Primrose, it might take you all day. Eli, it will take you only a few hours. Oh, and you have new stylists this year. They are the best and the brightest!" She says with a bright smile. I can't help but return it.
She's sweet, even though she is sometimes blind to what truly goes on in the districts.
"That's great Effie. Do you know anything about what we will be wearing for opening ceremonies?" I ask with a small smile.
"Even if I did, I couldn't tell you, dear." She gives me a stern look then smiles.
"But whatever it is it will be fabulous since it is made by Cinna!" She trills.
I smile inwardly at her enthusiasm.
Dinner progresses through with light conversation about unimportant topics.
There's seven courses brought out by two avoxes. A young boy and girl about my age. They're gorgeous. I met the boy earlier and discovered his name was Sage and her name was Evangeline.
I excuse myself to use the restroom during about the fifth course. I didn't realize that the boy was bringing the sixth course (who needs six courses?) however, so when I got up I bump straight into him, knocking out all the dishes he was carrying. As soon as the food splattered on the floor it was spoiled.
It couldn't be eaten. I felt terrible. The food that scattered to the floor could have fed mine, Katniss's, Rory's, and Eli's family for about two weeks. All because of my clumsiness. I am mortified. How could I have wasted such good food?
What will the Capitol do to me? Oh no. Oh god. What if they blame Sage when it was my fault? They can't! I have to talk to someone about this. I feel so terrible.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! Please don't blame Sage. It was my fault. It wasn't his fault. Haymitch please. It was me. I'll, um, I'll pay for the food somehow, I will. I can do some work or someth-" I spout out so quickly that I don't notice everyone's looks of confusion and Sage's look of shock.
Haymitch, shaking his head, interrupts me, "Rosie, the Capitol won't do anything to him, or you. The Capitol has so much food they won't even notice it's missing. They won't hurt you or Sage, okay?" He notices my signs that I'm about to cry and hugs me and kisses my forehead. He whispers soothing words in my ear whilst hugging me and comforting me.
I was so terrified that they would punish Sage for my mistake. Haymitch excuses us from dinner and tries to take me back to my room. I'm no longer hungry anyways.
I can't move however. He's tugging and tugging. I'm frozen to my spot. I snap into focus when I see Sage and Evangeline trying to clean up my mistake.
Why should they clean up my mess? That's not right. I rush over to them and help.
When my hands start picking up the scattered food and placing it on the tray, they furiously shake their heads at me and look terrified.
"Primrose! Don't clean that up! That isn't your job. It's theirs." Effie says sternly. I look at her and she looks angry. I'm confused. I made this mess. I should clean it up.
I look to Haymitch and he looks at me sadly. He understands why I'm doing this. But he has to agree with Effie. Funny how we can have these silent conversations.
I look at Effie confidently and speak clearly, "Yes, it may be their job but it was my mistake."
I turn to Sage and Evangeline. "I can clean this up. It was my mess. I apologize. I'm sorry." Their eyes widen.
I hear Effie gasp. They must be scared of Effie or of what she'd do. Why is she acting so… Rude? I'm instantly furious. An avox is just as much of a person as I am or she is. Why is she treating them any different?
"Primrose. You cannot address Avoxes like that. Unless you give them an order, you may not speak to them." She's glaring at me.
"An order? Human beings should not be ordered around, Effie! They're not dogs. How can you think that?" This is ridiculous! Effie, queen of manners, is saying this?
"I think you should go to your room with Haymitch. Now." She says sternly.
I glare at her.
"Right. So now you're ordering me around too? Would you like me to kneel while I'm at it? How about a massage too, your highness?" I have never seen her look so disheveled.
"Sage, Evangeline, stop cleaning. That, is an order. Effie can take care of everything." I smirk at her. She looks like she is about to explode.
Haymitch's laughter is silent, but he's clutching his sides and his eyes are glassy from laughing so hard. I hear Eli snort from behind me. Her expression is the funniest part.
I grab Haymitch's hand and storm off to my room. I'm so mad at Effie.
How dare she order people around! She doesn't own people.
Haymitch is still chuckling when he sits down on the bed.
I grab a change of clothes for sleeping. Its a black camisole with black capris.
I go into the bathroom to change.
When I return, Haymitch comes up to me and hugs me.
"I believe in you. With all of my heart. You have everything it takes to win this. You have all three requirements: physical, mental, and emotional. Everyone in Panem will love you. It's hard not to. You can do it. I know you can. I have faith in you. Don't believe for a second that I don't. I just know how easily you trust people. I mean you trusted the old crazy drunk from Twelve. I don't want to see you get manipulated or hurt, Rosie. I love you too much, okay? I'm sorry."
I've only heard Haymitch say those three words a few times before, only in very serious situations. I've said them to him several times. I know he loves me, he doesn't have to say it. Actions speak louder than words and all that.
"I already forgave you hours ago." I smile at him.
"Oh and I love you too, you old crazy drunk." I hug him and kiss his cheek. He chuckles.
"So is this what you wanted to talk to me about on the roof at midnight? So secretly?" I joke.
He laughs nervously. "Well, mostly. The rest can wait. Well, get some rest now. Night, Rosie."
I have spent many nights at Haymitch's house. I even have my own room at his house.
He took me to town one afternoon and bought me anything I wanted to decorate it. Anything! And since he did that, I insisted that we decorated the rest of his boring house too. So I did.
Now it's filled with pictures of us.
I can't bear the thought of sleeping alone tonight.
Haymitch won't mind. I've slept in his bed before when he had nightmares. I know what some people might think. That it's creepy or might seem romantic. It's about as romantic as a father would sleep in the same bed as his daughter. Which isn't romantic at all.
"Wait, Haymitch. I can't be alone tonight. Please don't leave me. Can't you sleep here?" I try to hide the hysteria creeping into my voice, but it's there.
He looks at me knowingly and walks back in the direction of my bed. it's huge. It could fit probably six grown men.
"Of course. We missed the reapings. Let's watch the reruns now. There should be one on."
There's a TV in my room, and it's on the wall opposite my bed. So if we lay down we will see perfectly.
I turn the channel on while he gets the bed situated for sleep. We crawl under the covers just as Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith announce that the rerun is beginning.
"Perfect timing" I say with a smile.
At the bottom of the screen, it will show the name and district of each tribute after their reaping is shown. I tune out Mr. Templesmith's and Mr. Flickerman's voices.
District one female is a beautiful girl named Glimmer. She looks fierce and strong, but arrogant and cocky. Which could be damaging in the arena. She also looks a little self absorbed. She's a career, she volunteered. She doesn't appear to have known the tribute who was reaped either, so she didn't volunteer for her.
Her partner's name is Marvel. He volunteered also. He's tall, and looks pretty strong, but not buff. He looks lean and fit. He doesn't look threatening since he's grinning.
District two comes on next. The female is a pretty girl who looks too young to have volunteered. She looks maybe 14 or 15 years old. But she is a career, so I guess she is trained. She looks really strong, both physically and mentally. She looks scary, like nobody should mess with her. Ever.
The reaping of the male tribute confuses and shocks me.
A young boy about twelve years is reaped. He has bushy blond hair that is curly with oddly familiar blue eyes. Like a navy blue. He has glasses that he has to keep on pushing up his nose to keep from falling. He's gangly and lanky. Normally in district two, on him where there should be muscle there is bone. He looks too innocent and sweet for these games.
I keep thinking, he's too young. He's too young. He's too young.
Oliver Evins.
Pushing his glasses up his nose again, he takes two steps before his name is called again, but from a different voice.
"Oliver!" A deep male voice shouts. I recognize it. From where, I don't know. The voice sounds desperate and vulnerable.
The boy who shouts comes into view on the screen.
I know him. I met him. I talked to him. Fuchsia boy.
Fuchsia boy.
"I volunteer!" He shouts firmly.