Finnick shifted his weight from one foot to another, trying to ignore the sweat dripping down his neck and the stench of hundreds of teenage bodies packed closely together in the heat of summer. He wasn't worried. Why should he be? There were over a thousand slips of paper in the glass bowl on the stage, and only three had his name on them. Even if he was picked, everyone knew Castor Riley planned on volunteering this year. He'd seen the other boy practicing with a trident long after everyone else had finished for the day, and Finnick had admired his strength and grace for as long as he could remember. He hadn't admitted it to anyone but himself yet, but Castor Riley was exactly what Finnick wanted to be in a few years' time. Mom wouldn't like it, but he'd made up his mind. These last few weeks, he'd been putting in those extra hours along with Castor. The older boy and the trainers agreed Finnick was good with a trident, far better than anyone else in his year.
The district escort's voice rang through the square, amplified by dozens of speakers. "And District Four's female tribute for the sixty-fifth Games is…" she grabbed a slip from the very top of the bowl, "Coreline Amberjack!" Immediately, a voice volunteered to replace her, and a broad-shouldered young woman walked up to the stage in Coreline's place, and a polite round of applause greeted the volunteer as she said her name into the microphone.
Finnick felt himself tense as the woman reached into the bowl of boys' names. He shouldn't be; it wasn't going to be him. It couldn't be him. "Seamus Raeson!" It wasn't him. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
The square went quiet. Why wasn't anyone volunteering? The kid he could see trembling a few rows ahead of him shouldn't have to go into the Arena. Hell, he had a better chance than Seamus. And if Castor wasn't going to volunteer…
Finnick didn't fully realize what he was doing until his hand was high in the air and he was shouting "I volunteer!" loud enough for the entire square to hear. Surprised, even shocked, faces met him as he pushed his way through the crowd to the center aisle. He swallowed and, summoning every ounce of confidence he'd ever had, swaggered up to the stage.
"And who is this young man?" the escort asked, her voice high, almost flirtatious in a way he wasn't used to. He didn't let that, or her shiny green wig, distract him from keeping his expression as confident as possible as he introduced himself. He couldn't afford shaking hands or a squeaky voice right now.
Finnick saw Castor in the crowd, and the man's accusing eyes met his for just an instant before he was led into the Justice Building.
.oOo.
His best friend wrapped her arms around him, vise-like, before he even got a chance to say hello. "What the hell were you thinking?" Annie demanded as she hugs him close.
"Seamus didn't have a chance."
"Castor was going to volunteer, idiot! You waited barely ten seconds!"
The breath left his lungs. Had he really volunteered so quickly? He hugged her more tightly. "I'm so sorry."
She surprised him then by pulling away. Before he could protest that they might only have a few minutes left to see each other and she shouldn't waste that time being angry, their lips were pressed together. Finnick didn't care that their teeth clinked against each other's or that their lips never found a rhythm to move together. When she broke the kiss, he was grinning from ear to ear. "You're going to come out of that Arena in one piece so I can do that a million more times, you hear?" she ordered.
He nodded, and their lips came together again, separating only when the Peacekeepers came in to escort Annie out.