Trust Me

“I’m not wearing that.”

“Yes, you are.”

“It’s atrocious.”

“It’s all we’ve got.”

“It’s still atrocious.” I groaned. Finnick and Shalim were holding up one of the shortest gowns I’d ever seen. It was a muted sea green that flowed down to what I imagined would be barely over my thighs. The neckline cut low, and the strap that covered one shoulder was a huge array of ruffles while the other was a simple band. On the hanger, it looked like one big floppy mess of fabric.

“I know you don’t like it, but you’ve got to understand that I designed this before you changed your angle. This would have worked if we were still trying to give you a different angle every time. You’d done sexy, you’d done modest, and cute was the last thing we had. If we’d known you were going to try and turn into the head of the Careers, we would have given you another sexy dress.” Shalim said, his voice tight. He was trying not to get too angry, but I could see him turn another shade of purple every time I insulted his creation.

“It can still work.” Finnick protested. “If you pull at least an 8 in the ratings, then you can look like a double threat. You look completely harmless, but you’re deadly. The perfect underdog.”

I sighed. “I’ve trusted you this far, Finnick, but I don’t think I’d even pull an 8. I did pretty well target-wise, but it was all luck. I’m pretty sure the Game makers will be able to tell that I just got lucky.”

Finnick stopped me. “Even so, your knife skills are nothing to joke about. They won’t overlook that. You’ll pull at least a 7.”

I nodded, but didn’t entirely believe him.

Georgina ran into the room, towing Kip by the wrist. Ever since Kip had split away from Finnick, Georgina had spent most of her time worrying over Kip. Finnick had been acting as both mentor and escort for me, and Kip had been stuck with nobody but Georgina.

“Quick, turn on the television! They’re going to announce the scores!” Georgina squealed, pulling Kip down next to her. Finnick, Shalim and I took the remaining seats as Georgina turned the television on. We listened to Caesar Flickerman jabber on about the opening ceremonies before the scoreboard was finally brought up for Adri.

“Crap,” I heard Kip mutter under his breath. I could feel my mouth go dry. 6’4, 18 years old, 195 pounds. His odds of winning were 3-1 – the highest odds I’d seen in a long time. He was given a score of 11. Next came Terra. 5’4, 15 years old, 6-1 odds, a score of 9. Parq: 5’11, 16 years old, 5-1 odds, a score of 9 as well. Ingrid was next. 5’8, 14 years old, 11-1 odds, and a score of only 6. The scores for the District 3 came up, but I turned to stare at Finnick with wide eyes. He mirrored my look. How on earth did Ingrid get a score as low as a 6? Even if she could only use one weapon, she was deadly with that weapon. She would not be pleased. Careers usually got nothing lower than an 8.

I tuned back in as they announced Kip’s stats. 6’0, 10-1 odds, a score of 5. I heard Kip groan, and Georgina let out a sharp gasp.

“Oh, it’s all right, dear.” Georgina assured, patting Kip’s back.

“They didn’t have a trident in the arena. I tried to use the spears, but I didn’t even hit the wood around the dummy.” Kip admitted as Caesar Flickerman jabbered on about how it was mind-blowing for a Career tribute to get such a low score.

Then, it was my turn. Winnie Nova. 5’2 – I had discovered in the arena when they measured me that I was 2 inches taller than I thought I was. 3-1 odds of winning. A score of 11. My ratings matched Adri’s exactly, and I knew why. How comical would it be to have the smallest and the largest of all the tributes be the best bets? Two Career tributes, one with a fierce alliance and the other with size on his side. I figured they’d try to ensure that Adri and I faced off in the arena. They would probably try to keep me alive and kill off my allies until I was a sitting duck, just waiting for Adri to come and finish me off. It would be a big fight scene – at least, that’s what they wanted – but I was just a pawn. No doubt they’d seen all the conflict between Adri and I.

Finnick seemed to have the exact same idea as me. “Don’t worry. You’re part of a fantastic alliance.” He murmured.

I only tuned in to the scores again to see Jill’s scores. I hadn’t spoken to her since the first day in the training arena, but I still felt some inexplicable sense of growing friendship with her. 5’5, 10-1 odds of winning, a score of 7. I was pleased with her scores. There was nothing that would make her stand out to the other tributes to make her a target, but she was still in good enough shape to have a chance at getting sponsors.

After the end of the broadcast I was whisked away to be fussed over by Shalim and my prep team. Finnick sat in the corner, mulling over the scores.

“Why do you think they gave Ingrid such a low score?” I asked.

“Don’t talk unless you want lipstick on your teeth,” One of the girls from the prep team said.

“Probably because they know she’s good. If she’s given a low score and she’s so volatile, nobody will want to form an alliance with her. Watching her try and fight everyone else off will be just another plot twist. She can take them on, and her sadistic attitude will make for a more amusing Game.” Finnick said.

I wanted to nod, but the prep team was swarming around my head, so I flashed him a thumbs up to say that it made sense. Finnick laughed and grabbed my thumb, holding on to it like he was holding my hand.

“You do have to watch out for Adri, though. Don’t do anything to irritate him.” Finnick warned.

The prep team moved away from my mouth, evidently done with my lips (at least for now) and I gave Finnick a guilty smile. “Well…”

Finnick’s smile disappeared and he let go of my thumb. “Oh, no. What did you do?”

“I may have insulted his knife work and told him he couldn’t even hit a tree with his bad aim.” I said, unable to meet his eyes.

“Winnie!” Finnick hissed. “You can’t be so rash! He wants to get to you because he thinks he can take you. The more you offend him, the more incentive you give him to make the first move.”

“He wasn’t offended. He keeps laughing. I think he’s already planning my death in his head. I’m sure he’ll make it slow and excruciating.” I said, and one of the girls from the prep team gasped.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Shalim hissed at the girl who’d gasped. “You have to expect to hear these things in this job.”

Finnick ignored both the girl and Shalim. “Just be careful around him. Stick with your allies until he’s dead. Same goes for Ingrid. Both of them will target you, and it’ll just make things even worse for you.”

I nodded. “I’ll do everything I can, but I’m not going to let them kill my allies in an attempt to get to me.”

“Why not? I know you want to do what’s right, but you have to understand that your allies will die. At best, one of your allies might survive, but not all of them. If they have to die, they should die protecting the alliance that they asked for.” Finnick argued.

“Because it was my bad temper that’s making me a target. If they get hurt because of my rash actions, then that’s just not fair.” I protested.

“It’s not about being fair!” Finnick was yelling at that point. “You need to do whatever you can to keep yourself alive. We’ve been over this!”

“I don’t care. Whatever happens to me, I want it to happen nobly. Either I win a noble victory or die a noble death.” I said firmly.

Finnick shot up and pushed the prep team aside. He placed his hands on either side of my face and strained my face up to his, so all I could see was his face. “You promised me, Winnie. You promised, dammit!”

Shalim stepped in, placing a hand on Finnick’s elbow and gently pulling him away from me. “Don’t talk about the Game now. If she’s too stressed out when she does the interview, it will show.” Shalim scolded.

Finnick looked at me for a moment longer before turning and punching the wall. His fist went through the drywall, leaving a huge gaping hole in the wall, before he stormed out without another word.

Something inside me broke. I stared at the hole in the wall numbly, a cold feeling spreading through me from the middle of my chest, making its way through my body. His words echoed through my head: ‘You promised’. I wanted to run after him, to hug him and tell him I was sorry, but Shalim had already shut the door behind Finnick as if sensing what I wanted to do.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll come around.” Said a man from the prep team, patting my shoulder.

“Don’t talk, just work.” Shalim snapped. “She doesn’t want to listen to any of us right now. She should focus on what she’s going to say in her interview.”

I was infinitely grateful for Shalim for that. After he’d said that, nobody dared speak to me again after that, leaving me in peace with my thoughts. I let them fuss over me, picturing Finnick’s expression in my head. I’d never seen him so angry. It hurt just to think about it.

“Come, let’s get you in the dress.” Shalim urged. He shooed out the rest of the prep team and helped me into the gown, zipping it up and making a few readjustments. “It’s a good thing you’re this short. If you were any taller, this dress would be more of a shirt.” He said, looking at how short the dress was.

I grimaced. “I’m glad one good thing can come from my miniature size.”

“Hey, don’t think like that. You’ll be able to hide anywhere.” He pointed out. He gently pushed me over towards a mirror, where I took in all the work that had been done on me. I had indeed been made to look cute. They’d made my eyes look larger and my lashes look fuller. They’d either emphasized my freckles or they’d painted on new ones, and there was a generous amount of light pink blush on my cheeks. My lips looked full and glossy, and my hair had been softly curled. I looked like a doll.

“Well?” Shalim pressed.

“The dress is beautiful. It looked terrible on the hanger, but it’s lovely when you see it on someone.” I said in an apologetic tone. I felt bad for insulting the dress he’d made just for me.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He dismissed my tone easily. “I knew it was beautiful without you having to say it.”

I laughed at his self-assured attitude. “Now, let’s get this interview over with.”

“Go knock them dead.” Shalim said with a grin.

I laughed weakly and made a morbid attempt at a joke. “I’m not supposed to do that until I get to the arena.”