Chapter 9- Moving in with a Victor

It has been a week since my father's funeral and I have managed to make myself comfortable at Mags' house. My new room is at least double than what mine used to be. Mags is surprisingly normal for a Victor of the Hunger Games. I have to commend her for not turning to drugs or alcohol like other victors. The only addiction that I can see that she has turned to is knitting. It must be nice when you're swimming in money and don't have anything to do in the daytime.

Knitting must have been her talent after she turned a victor. Every winner of the Hunger Games must choose a talent of some sort to occupy their days. Most choose singing or playing some instrument. For some victors, drinking becomes their most precious talent. What's strange is that Mags doesn't even talk about her days in the Games. After a while of thinking about it I realize that those days might be too treacherous for her to look back at. Let's just say that I don't mention the Games and neither does she and we are both happy with it.

Finnick and I have become closer and closer since he promised his loyalty to me upon my father's grave at the funeral. We go to the Oasis a lot more than we used to, he tells me more stories, and I teach him more knots. We can't stand to be apart from each other. We tried, one day, to not see each other. After running to his house on the last hour, we agreed to never try it again.

School has started, which means that the Hunger Games are too close for comfort. Some Peacekeepers are already starting to set up the Justice Building so that there is not time to waste when the television crew comes barging in.

"How far away is it? How many days?" I ask as Finnick and I walk to school.

He glances around at the Peacekeepers setting up and laughs.

"Only 4. Though the fact that they are already setting up is really unusual. I guess the Capitol is really excited this year."

And with that we head to school, well the closest thing anybody has to a school. After the rebellion, the Capitol cracked down on education for its citizens. It scares me that I barely know anything about the world at all and President Snow knows basically every angle of it. I guess it's just another way he laughs at us and plays with us. Our classes are only about fish or fishing. Sometimes, if we get lucky, we tiptoe on the subject of fishing hooks. That's why so many people drop out at age 16 to join The Academy of Volunteers. It makes me sick just to think about walking through that building.

So yes, I dread school because of its lack of education, but I also hate the fact that I have to pretend to enjoy the other girls at my school. All they do is talk about boys (mainly Finnick), clothing, their hair issues, and then boys again. I try numerous times to learn to enjoy the stupidity of the conversations, but then they go on to say how 'hot' or 'dreamy' Finnick is and how 'they would die to be me because I have him'. Then, I give up, turn back to my own little world, and block them out.

When Finnick isn't in any of my classes, I do manage to sit by one girl that doesn't make my head boil: Idelia Scrooner. Unfortunate name, but I enjoy her company. She has only spoken to me once about the opposite gender and twice about clothing. The other topics we talk about mainly include Capitol people or what we might do in the future if we had no boundaries. We are definitely not typical 13 year-old girls.

After school has finally let us free, Finnick and I discreetly escape into our Oasis.

"I think they should win a prize. The amount of boredom that comes from that building is obviously something that somebody should note." He begins and I laugh.

"I know, but at least we still hung in there."I respond.

" I almost exploded when a couple of my friends already started talking about the games," he adds. "It's like they can't wait for them either."

"It's like nobody can Finnick. And truthfully, the fact that it's only a few days away is scaring me." I say to him. I really am scared. I know the students at the Academy can't wait to volunteer, but just the possibility that Finnick or I may be forced to take part in the most inhumane event ever created is enough to make new nightmares.

"Annie, you know we won't end up getting chosen," he starts. "Yeah, our names might get pulled, but volunteers will pop up almost immediately."

I nod with my eyebrows knit together in understanding. He strokes my cheek and pulls me in for another kiss.

"And I promised to take care of you right?" he asks as he pulls away.

"Finnick, some things cannot be avoided." I respond.

He shrugs his shoulders and adds, "I'll find a way."

With that we dive in for a swim. The cool water almost instantly calms my nerves. I have gotten quite good ever since Finnick started teaching me. I can swerve in almost any position and still keep afloat. I'll never be as good as Finnick; he has been swimming ever since he could walk. He grew up in the water.

We play this game called Marco Polo that Finnick used as an example to teach me how to swim fast. It's my favorite thing to do. I love watching Finnick turn every which way just so that he can come closer to my voice in hopes of catching me. Though whenever I have to search for his voice, he usually lets me win by swimming up behind me and wrapping his arms around me. It used to be annoying, but I almost immediately grew fond of his cheating.

Our days mold into routine once more: school, oasis, store, and homework. For the next three days Finnick and I avoid any mention of the Games and never bring it up. We silently decide to just cross that bridge when it gets here. Unfortunately, that bridge came a lot faster than planned.