Chapter Fourteen

Reaping day is even harder now that I know from experience the horror that awaits the tributes. I wake up with a sick feeling in my stomach, remembering how it was this time last year. Making breakfast for my father, cleaning up, trying to keep him happy, talking with Shelley. My life looks totally different now. I can't believe how much can change in just a year. A stab of grief hits my heart as I think about my father and wish for the hundredth time that I could have had a proper goodbye with him. I hope that the kids who are reaped today can say goodbye to their loved ones in a satisfying way.

I walk down to the kitchen in Mags's house and find Finnick leaning up against the granite counter, wearing a grey t-shirt and black boxers. He's facing the coffee pot, waiting for it to brew. I reach up to comb some tangles out of my hair before greeting him.

"Good morning, Finnick."

"Morning," he says with a yawn.

"Up late last night?" I ask.

"Nightmares. You know."

I do know. I'm pretty sure I heard him calling out last night when I woke from one of my nightmares.

I pull out three mugs for the coffee. I've learned that Finnick likes making the coffee himself, so I let him do that while I toast up some bread and pull out some berries for our breakfast. Mags loves blueberries, so I always make sure to get some from the market for her. She's been sleeping later these days, but I know she'll be hungry when she does get up.

"It's your first time mentoring today. Do you have any questions?" Finnick asks as he plops a few sugar cubes into each coffee mug, and pours a drizzle of cream into them. He stirs them and sets one in front of me, taking the seat opposite me at the table.

I had a million questions running through my mind the night before, but I'm not sure where to start now. "Any advice?"

Finnick thinks for a minute. "It's not so bad, really. The worst part is dealing with the fact that you're likely leading these kids to their death, and there's not a whole lot you can do about it. The kids are terrified, as you know, so it's good to try to put them at ease the best you can. The things you learned last year, you can pass on to them. And then it's mostly socializing—with sponsors and with the other mentors. We often watch the Games together, so we get to know each other pretty well over the years. It can be kind of fun sometimes." He grimaces. "Does that sound horrible to you?"

I blush, feeling embarrassed that he knows I'm can be sensitive to these things. Embarrassed I can't be like him or the other Victors. I don't think he's a bad person, or the other Victors. They're as much a victim as the rest of us, even the Careers. But I think it will be a while before I can find the Games fun. "No, it doesn't. I get it."

"You're not gonna hate me again when you see me with the other mentors?" Finnick asks, and I can't quite tell if he's serious or joking.

"I never hated you!" I say. "I only was wary of trusting you. But that didn't last long. You've been there for me through all of my worst moments, and that means a lot. Besides, I think I know you pretty well now and there's nothing you could do that would make—" I cut myself off. What I was going to say was 'make me love you less,' but I catch myself in time and instead say, "Make me think any less of you. I should be the one worried anyway. I'm the crazy Victor, and you'll have to be seen out in public with me. I'm too soft to be a Victor, too fragile."

Finnick gives me that strange look again for a moment before saying, "Being soft or fragile isn't a bad thing. You have nothing to worry about."

Mags enters the kitchen. She's wearing blue linen pants, a soft yellow sweater and has pinned her long grey hair up in a bun. "Good morning, loves," she says in her garbled speech, and it startles me because at first, I think she calls us 'lovers.'

"Good morning, Mags," I say. Finnick gets up to give her a kiss on the cheek and hands her a cup of coffee.

"Reaping day?" She asks.

I nod my head, and Finnick says in complete deadpan, "You know it. Can't wait to get to the Capitol and see some more children die."

Mags looks at me, a mixture of amusement and concern on her face. "You'll do good, girl."

Guilt twists in my stomach and I worry about leaving Mags. "You sure you'll be okay without us? I mean, I know Theo said he'd check in on you, but how much can we trust him, really?"

Mags laughs. "I'll be fine. Worry too much. The kids need you two."

Still, I make a note to stop by Theo's house this morning and make him swear to keep an eye on Mags every day and make sure she's okay.

The time of the Reaping comes all too soon. Finnick and I have to get there a bit early so we can be on stage when the Mayor starts his speech.

We're sitting on a marble bench at the back of the Justice Building when Yardley arrives. She's wearing a ruffled dress that looks like it's been splashed with different colors—teal, bright pink, and toxic yellow. She's got a silvery wig that's rolled up in a complicated pattern on top of her head, and her eyelashes have little stars attached to the ends. She greets us both and kisses our cheeks, lingering a bit longer on Finnick's. "It's going to be another great Hunger Games!" She says in her Capitol accent.

The Mayor's speech and Yardley's introduction go by in a blur as haunting images flash before my eyes. I'm aware that I'm not only on a stage, but on a camera in front of all of Panem once more, and I do my best to appear normal. But when Miguel's blood splashes on the ground, I can't help but jump in my seat and squeeze my eyes tight.

I feel Finnick's hand on mine, resting on my lap. It's warm and reassuring, and brings me back to the moment. I look over and meet his eyes, trying to send a telepathic "Thank you," as best I can. He gives a slight nod and small smile, and then turns back to the audience, just in time for Yardley to call out the female tribute's name.

"Eleanor Maddox!" She says with great enthusiasm.

I scan the crowds, looking for the girl she's called to come forward. She's easy to find because the kids around her turn to her. She's a short girl with chestnut brown hair. She's wearing a burgundy dress that looks to be two sizes too big for her and I wonder if she has older sisters. She tries to put on a brave face, but I can see her hands clenched into fists by her side as she walks up to the stage. Nobody volunteers, so Yardley moves on to the male tribute.

"Leo Visla!"

Leo, who I'd guess to be twelve years old, with white-blond hair and freckles on his nose walks to the front, but he's lucky and doesn't have to be up there for long. When Yardley asks if there are any volunteers, a booming voice from the eighteen-year-old section says, "I volunteer as tribute," and someone else takes his place. The relief on Leo's face is palpable, and I can see him rushing right to his parents, them crying and enveloping him in a hug.

Yardley introduces the actual male tribute as, "Thompson Pacifica." Thompson is tall and muscley. I'd easily mistake him for being at least 24 years old. He looks pleased with himself, and I know that he has prepared for this moment. Careers are rarer in our District than others, but we're still known to be a Career District—all unofficially, of course, since it's technically against the rules. I've never found out where it is people train to be careers—never got around to asking.

When all the formalities are done, Finnick and I go back into the Justice Building, waiting for our tributes to say their last goodbyes.

"I can take the girl, Eleanor. Thompson's a Career, so he should be easier for you, since it's your first time. Careers come in already knowing a lot of skills. Is that okay with you?" Finnick asks.

"Yeah, I can do that," I say, trying to focus on the task of mentoring, and less on the tragedy of these two kids being in the Hunger Games. I'm only a year older than Thompson now, but with the memory of my Games fresh in my mind, I can't help but think about how the Games will change him forever, whatever happens to him.

We follow behind our tributes as they're escorted into the train car. It's strange, but the train now feels like a second home to me. After the Victory Tour, I've spent so much time here I feel I know every nook of every compartment. The familiarity helps to cut out some of the rising fear that comes up each time I enter the train. I take a deep breath. I'm the mentor now. I need to be calm and in control.

Yardley follows behind me and we all sit at a grouping of chairs and couches—the three of us facing the two new tributes. Yardley has barely given them any time to think, blathering on about the wonderful amenities of the train and how lucky the two of them are to be here. Thompson seems to agree. He sits on the couch with a satisfied grin, nodding his head as he looks around. He leans back and crosses his arms over his broad chest. Eleanor beside him has gripped her hands tightly on the folds of her dress and I can see the whites of her knuckles. I give her a smile of reassurance, and she returns my smile with a glare.

"Why is she allowed to mentor?" She asks Yardley in an accusatory tone. "She went crazy. Doesn't seem like she'd be fit to help us survive this thing."

My heart sinks. I knew remarks like this would be coming my way, but I never thought it would be coming from the tributes. I thought they would at least understand. I'm left speechless for a moment, and Yardley stammers out something about procedure before Finnick spits out, "Honey, Annie is as much of a Victor as anyone, and she knows what it takes to survive the arena. Whether or not she's your mentor, you'd better learn to respect her quick. It doesn't bode well to insult the people who can be the difference between your life or death in the arena."

I can tell he wants to say more, but I don't want to get off on the wrong foot. I'm sure Eleanor is just afraid and is lashing out at me as the easiest target. "It's okay, Finnick," I say, putting my hand on his arm to stop him. "You're right, Eleanor. I am crazy. But Finnick is also right and I'm going to do everything I can to keep my tribute alive."

This seems to shock Yardley out of her panic and she remembers the arrangement we had told her about who was mentoring whom. "We weren't even planning for Annie to be your mentor anyway. Finnick is your mentor. Annie will be mentoring our brave volunteer over here," she says gesturing her open hand at Thompson.

I look at Thompson. "You okay with that?" I ask.

Thompson nods just like he did when he was scanning the train car. "Yeah, dude. I mean, I figure I already know everything a mentor might tell me, and I'm hot enough to attract sponsors so it's all as good as in the bag." He reaches his fist toward me in a gesture I've seen some boys do before, so I reach back with my own fist and bump it against his with a smile, grateful his overconfidence has helped him accept me as his mentor.

Eleanor eyes us both, then sighs and seems to calm down.

"As my tribute, I still expect you to respect Annie as a victor." Finnick says. "That good with you?"

"Yeah," Eleanor says, before quietly adding, "Sorry, Annie."

"It's okay. I know how scary and overwhelming this is." I'm glad that we've cleared the air. Now I can focus on helping the tributes without worrying what they might be thinking of me. "Do you guys have any questions for us for now?"

Just like me and Miguel last year, they can't think of anything, so Yardley shows them to their bedroom suites, and Finnick and I make it to the back of the train. The last train car has a big window the reaches up into the ceiling so you can get a good view of the landscapes speeding past. We sit on the wrap-around sofa discussing the tributes.

"You really can lighten up on Eleanor," I tell him. "She's not the only one who will be saying or thinking things like that, and she's scared. I don't want her to feel like we're against her too."

Finnick looks at me and I catch the briefest glimpse of that strange expression on his face again. "There's that softness in you, Annie, and I swear it makes you even stronger than I am." He turns his gaze to the view outside the window, greens and browns blurring together as they pass. "If that's what you want, I'll do it."

"Thanks, Finnick," I say, entwinning my arm around his and laying my head on his shoulder, my feet tucked up on the couch to the other side of me. I think back to that first time Finnick offered me his arm and how strange it felt to be so close to him. Through the course of the year, I've become accustomed to his physical affection, and I think that now I'm as familiar with the feel of his body as I am with my own. It feels nice, to be friends with someone so generous with his affection—it's so different from what I've been used to my whole life. Every time I'm with Finnick, it feels like a small part of me heals, and I wonder if it's the same for him.

The conversation moves to Mags as we wonder what she's up to. "Probably making some plot to kick us out of her house so she can have her peace and quiet again," Finnick jokes.

I laugh, imagining Mags chasing us out with a broom.

Remembering Thompson, I ask Finnick, "How do Careers get trained?"

"They're a bit more open about it in One and Two and it's kind of a part of their school system. I don't know how they get away with it. We've had to be secretive about it ever since the Capitol killed Mags's family for it." Finnick explains.

"What?" This is something Mags has never talked to me about.

"Yeah, it's so like the Capitol, right? The double-standards. But Mags was the one who kind of started the idea of Careers. After her Games, she wanted to help kids be more prepared for if they were chosen as tributes. She started teaching groups of kids different fighting and survival skills, and it went on for several years actually. But after Jesher won his Games, the Capitol found out Mags had trained him beforehand and killed his family along with hers. His parents and siblings, and Mags's parents, along with the man she was going to marry. Mags was pregnant at the time—a boy, she said—and she ended up losing the baby shortly after her family was killed."

"That's awful," I say, thinking about Mags and how she's always wanted to help people, but the Capitol has made it so hard for her to do so.

"Mags doesn't really approve of how it's done anymore though. Some of the teachers at the schools will train kids if they ask. These teachers, they study the Games like it's a science each year, and the way they train the kids, they believe that it's a privilege to be a tribute. Which everyone who's ever been a tribute knows it's not."

I nod, thinking about how all of the Victors I've met have been messed up in one way or another. Our conversation drifts to the other Victors, and Finnick talks about some of the ones who have become his friends.

After about an hour, the sun begins to set and I feel myself getting tired.

"We won't be able to do this once we get to the Capitol," I say, looking down at our entwined hands. Faint scars, likely from fishing, are visible on the backs of Finnick's hands, and my thumb traces the one nearest it. "It'd make us look too much like a couple." As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I start to panic, worried that Finnick would think I'm implying we are a couple. But he doesn't move or say anything. "I mean, I know we're not, but it could look that way to others." I let go of Finnick's hand and sit up, burying my face in my hands and yelling at myself inwardly. I somehow always seem to say the most embarrassing things in front of Finnick.

Finnick never seems to mind though. "You're right," he says simply before sighing. "Guess we'd better soak up the cuddles while we can." He reaches his arms around me and squeezes me tightly.

A laugh escapes me before I can untangle myself and push him away. "Anyways, I'm getting tired and should get to bed. Goodnight Finnick," I say, giving his hand one last squeeze.

"'Night, Annie," he says, and I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away. I hope he's not thinking about how to distance himself from me because I've made it obvious that I still have feelings for him.

It'll be good to be in the Capitol and be forced to have some space, I tell myself.

Once we make it to the training center in the Capitol, I walk jelly-legged up to our living quarters. Everything looks exactly the same as it was last year. I stand frozen in the middle of entrance, Finnick, Yardley, Eleanor, and Thompson walking around me to get inside.

Yardley shows the tributes their rooms and we let them get settled. Thompson lets out a hoot of delight when he sees the amenities—the plush couches, tables of food, giant beds, and spacious bathrooms. I worry about Eleanor, and wonder if she feels even lonelier since she's paired with someone who actually wants to be here. I think about how comforting it was to have Miguel, who was on the same page as me from day one.

The time to send the tributes to their prep teams comes all too quickly.

"It's not going to be pleasant, and they will probably want to see your naked body, but let them do what they want to. It will help you get sponsors—they know what the people of the Capitol like," I tell Thompson, but he doesn't look too concerned.

When they're sent down to the prep rooms, Finnick shows me the mentor floor. This is where the mentors gather to watch the Games and to send sponsor gifts. The ground floor is the sponsor floor, where mentors go to talk with sponsors, but we don't go there yet.

The mentor floor is spacious. It's got several seating arrangements in the center of the room, and all the walls are covered with screens that project the progress of the Games. Right now, they're showing recaps of the Reapings. There's a big banquet table full of food and drinks, and a scattering of Avoxes are standing around the room. A few of the other mentors have already arrived by the time we get there.

"Don't worry, everyone, the beauty has arrived," Finnick says with a cheeky grin as he enters the room, lifting his hand to pretend to toss hair over his shoulder.

A group of mentors that sit in the center roll their eyes, but someone who was standing on the side comes up to Finnick and claps him on the back. "Finnick, my man! How are you?"

"Better than ever, Chaff. How are you? How's the hand?" Finnick responds.

Chaff laughs. "Oh you know, still gone!" One of Chaff's hands was lost in his Hunger Games, and I remember that he refused to get a prosthetic—it was a big deal in the Capitol.

Chaff turns to me and smiles. "Good to see you again, Annie."

I smile back. The doors bang open again behind us, and a drunk Haymitch Abernathy comes through the door. I can tell he's drunk because he sways when he walks.

"Where's the liquor?" He asks, apparently forgetting he's already holding a glass full of something.

Chaff sees Haymitch and smiles. "Hey!" He draws out the vowel sounds as he greets Haymitch. "Got started without me? I guess I'd better catch up quick!" The two men walk over to the banquet table and start pouring drinks for themselves before they sit on one of the couches, engaged in conversation with each other.

Finnick and I have just been standing in the middle of the room since Chaff left us, and I start to shift uncomfortably. Finnick looks at me and says, "Why don't I introduce you to some people?"

He leads me over to the group who was already sitting when we got there, and I recognize them as Victors from Districts One and Two.

"Annie, this is Cashmere, Ronan, Brutus, and Cardell," Finnick says, pointing at each person. Cashmere is tall with luscious blonde hair and a look on her face that seems to suggest she's better than everyone else. Ronan has golden brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a prominent chin. Brutus is bald and has an intimidating look on his face. Cardell is quite small but there's something about the look in her hazel eyes that makes me nervous. "Annie here's got a career tribute this year, so I'm sure you guys will be seeing quite a bit of each other over the next few weeks."

Ronan and Brutus nod their heads at me, and Cashmere and Cardell each give me a smile that doesn't quite meet their eyes.

"I haven't seen you around the Capitol in a while, Cashmere. Did they finally get sick of you?" Finnick asks. I remember him saying that Cashmere is the second most popular of the Victors in the Capitol and she gets sold almost as much as he does.

Cashmere narrows her eyes at Finnick before responding. "Someone started a rumor that I was going to sharpen my teeth into points like Enobaria, and that seemed to put off my usual clients."

"How terrible," Finnick says. "I wonder how that rumor started."

An Avox approaches us and hands us each thick wrist bands with small screens on them.

"Ah, thank you," Finnick says as he picks them both up and hands me one. "These are our communicuffs. This is how we handle the sponsor money and send out gifts to the tributes in the arena." He explains to me how they work and I wrap mine around my wrist. I jump when it starts beeping.

Finnick laughs and shows me his is beeping too. "It's just telling us our tributes are done with their prep teams. Should we go meet them at the chariots?"

I nod and we make our way to the tunnel that houses the chariots and horses.

Our tributes are waiting for us, looking slightly anxious. They've been dressed in bright form-fitting jumpsuits that sparkle, and then draped with fishing nets. Yardley stands next to them, and lights up when she sees us.

"Don't our tributes look just amazing? The stylists say they were inspired by your Games, Finnick, and by fish, of course."

Finnick nods, and I can see his jaw is clenched. Finnick used nets to trap tributes in his Games before spearing them with his trident, and I can see why this reminder would be upsetting to him. I reach out and give his hand a quick squeeze, and he unclenches his jaw, smiling at Yardley and the tributes. "You guys look great!" He says.

"Yes, the stylists did a good job. This will be good for sponsors," I say, though I'm really not sure what is actually good for sponsors yet.

Finnick walks around to the horses and grabs something out of a pouch that's attached to them. "Ah ha!" He says, coming back with a handful of sugar cubes. "Here," he drops a couple of cubes in Eleanor's and Thompson's hands. "Sugar makes everything better. Go ahead and eat these before the parade starts."

Eleanor and Thompson both look at each other before popping the sugar cubes in their mouths.

We get the signal that it's time for the tributes to mount their chariots, and then they're off. I watch as each chariot exits the tunnel, each set of tributes with expressions that vary from pride to utter terror. I close my eyes, trying to fight off an episode that I know is coming, but it's too strong and the visions overtake me.

When I come to, I'm on the ground and Finnick is crouched in front of me, his hands on my arms, murmuring something. I meet his eyes, and begin to calm down. "I'm okay now," I say, a little shakily, and I start to stand up, dusting some dirt off of my dress.

Finnick stands up with me, a look of concern still on his face.

"You okay, girl?" Someone asks in a slurred speech, and I look up to see Haymitch.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I say, grateful he's showing concern rather than disgust.

Haymitch nods and takes a swig from a flask he's holding. He looks between me and Finnick a few times. "You two together?"
It takes a minute for the question to register to me. "No! No. We're not." I say hastily.

"C'mon, Haymitch," Finnick says. "You know my heart lies here in the Capitol."

"Ss' too bad," Haymitch says, and then wobbles away before putting his arm around Chaff and the two begin singing a drinking song.

My face feels like it's completely on fire, from the embarrassment of having an episode in front of all the other mentors and from Haymitch's comment, but Finnick just looks amused. I look around, and I'm relieved that although there are a few mentors eyeing me warily, most seem to be too absorbed in watching the parade to have noticed.

I sleep fitfully that night, plagued with my usual nightmares of swords, rolling heads, and floods, and wake up early the next morning, drenched in sweat. After a few minutes of orienting myself to my situation, I make my way to the shower and wash myself with the softest waters and soaps I can find. If I'm going to take care of Thompson, I'll need to first take care of myself, which means doing everything I can to make this as nice of an experience for myself as I can.

I get dressed in a soft pink day dress and some tennis shoes, and comb through my hair before going out to eat breakfast. Finnick is already there. His hair is damp too, and he's wearing a simple green suit that brings out the color of his eyes. I notice there's two mugs of steaming coffee on the table—one in front of him and one at the seat beside him. I grab some pastries and eggs, delighted to see they have my favorite chocolate pastries, and sit next to Finnick, taking the mug of coffee he made for me.

"How'd you sleep?" I ask, biting into the pastry, the chocolate oozing out onto my tongue.

"Good, actually," Finnick says. "I had a nice dream. You were in it, actually. We were on the beach, and it was totally empty, just sitting there looking out over the ocean, and the sky was full of shooting stars. We didn't do or say anything that I remember, but it all felt very peaceful." He takes a sip of his coffee. "Much better than the usual round-up of nightmares. How'd you sleep?"

"The usual round-up of nightmares," I parrot back to him.

Eleanor comes into the room, followed by Thompson, and I tell them to get some food. They start dishing themselves breakfast while Finnick gives them a run-down of how the week will go. I'm relieved when they both agree to be mentored together. We give them the same advice I was given last year – to focus on survival skills for half the day, and strength training with different weapons the other half. After we send them off to the training center, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for a week full of meeting with sponsors and socializing with the other mentors. I can do this, I tell myself, trying to ignore my trembling hands and the sick feeling in my stomach.