crashing waves (finnick odair)

Chapter 4: It's Time to Go

Celeste's P.O.V.

The car ride to the train station is uncomfortable at best. I'm left clutching onto the basket in my hands with a vice grip, and the only reason the Peacekeepers have allowed me to bring it with me is because they were somehow able to scan it and ensure there were no bombs hidden inside any of the food.

Why the hell would anyone rig a pastry with a bomb? That would be a waste of perfectly good bread, I think with a roll of my eyes. Still, I say nothing, not wanting to test my otherwise questionable-at-best luck.

"Where did you get all of that?" Maximillian asks me, glancing into the basket. Yelena is in the front of the car with the Mayor, who is driving us.

"My brother's boss. He brought it for me to eat on the train ride and while I'm in the Capitol, so I could have something from home," I explain quietly. I nod to the selection of pastries. "Would you like one?"

He hesitates, but then he shakes his head. "No, thank you. There will be food on the train."

I shrug. "Alright then."

"That was nice of him, though." He glances at me, almost uncertainly. "You can call me Max, if you'd like. Everyone else does."

I take a good look at the younger boy for the first time. He has black hair and dark blue eyes, and his skin is golden-tan. He's lanky, taller than me but not visibly very strong.

Looks can be deceiving, I think bitterly as I think of my brother's murderer.

"Alright, Max," I agree, albeit reluctantly. I don't want to become too familiar with him. But what harm can it do, I suppose? It's not like I plan on killing him. "Do you think you can do me a favor?" He tilts his head in question. "Don't kill me. Just, at least not until I get the chance, you know..." I swallow, "to do what I want to do."

He blinks. I don't think Max was expecting that. But he glances out the window for a moment before he looks at me again.

"Okay," he agrees, nodding. His curly hair flops a little as he does. "But only if you promise not to kill me either. At least, not unless we have no other choice. If we were the last two, or something like that." Max holds out his hand, and I shake it.

"You have a deal," I agree.

I feel oddly better after we shake hands. I don't feel as alone, even though I know I am. I cannot trust anyone, not even this boy who is so much younger than me.

The car stops at the train station, and Peacekeepers throw the doors open. Grasping tightly to my basket, I follow Yelena and the Peacekeepers to the train. My legs are wobbly, and I feel both lightheaded and nauseous. As I carefully climb onto the train, everything suddenly feels very real.

This is probably the last time I'll ever see home, I think. So I pause and take a deep breath before I fully enter the train. The air is salty and warm.

The next time I see District 4, I'll be in a coffin. The realization is sombering. It hurts me deeply, and it makes my head ache.

But I force myself to move. I can't just stand here forever. So I enter the train, and I follow Yelena down the hall to the dining car. Max is close behind me. I sit in a booth by myself, sliding close to the window. I put my basket on the seat next to me, and I stare blankly out the glass. I try to memorize everything I see.

The train slowly starts to move, and the pit in my stomach only grows. I nibble at a buttery roll from my basket, trying to settle my nerves. It's good. It's fluffy and light.

If I'm going to die, I might as well eat decently, I think with mild, dry amusement.

I look up as the doors to the train car open again. I'm desperately curious to see who our mentors will be. The only option I have for a female mentor is Mags since Annie threw herself from the rocks a week after winning. Selfishly, though, I hope for Finnick. I would feel better with him, even if we do have to have a difficult talk.

Sure enough, Finnick comes strolling in with another of our victors, a man called Landon whom I don't know much about. He won about fifteen years ago, when he was seventeen. That's all I really know. Finnick and I make eye contact, and he fully ignores Max to come sit across from me. I stare at him like a rabbit caught in a trap.

"We're going to get you through this," he says lowly, so that Max doesn't overhear. "I'm going to get you home safe."

My heart aches at his words. He's so determined.

"Finnick..."

"Seriously, Cel, what were you thinking by volunteering?" he continues. "I know you don't want to compete, so what the hell?"

I look at him in shock. I hadn't expected him to be angry. He stares expectantly at me.

"Veronica and Reyna- I couldn't-" I stutter. I shake my head. "I don't have anyone, Finnick. Veronica has people who need her. Who would miss her. I...I don't."

He pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation, muttering, "Oh my god."

"What?" I demand, getting irritated at his reaction. Why is he acting so bothered?

"Nothing," he huffs. "Just- can you use your bow? You can fish with it, right?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Good," Finnick breathes out a sigh of relief. "Perfect. You have a chance."

"Um, about that-"

"And Adrian was so popular that you'll get even more sponsors because of him," he continues.

"Finnick-" I try again, but he's lost in his planning.

"It'll be fine. I'll get you home," he promises. I press my lips together in irritation. He waves over a few servants. "Wine. We need wine."

"Finnick," I hiss, glaring at him. "Listen, I appreciate your dedication already, but I'm not coming home except for in a coffin."

He freezes. He looks at me like I've slapped him.

"You're not even going to try?" he demands, and I recoil at how cold his voice is.

Why is he getting angry with me? This is my life. I'm allowed to choose if I don't want to fight in the arena just for the chance to survive. It's dehumanizing. It's cruel. I'm still going, that is required of me. But after I kill Pliny's tribute...they cannot control me.

"Nope," he continues. "You're going to fight. And you're going to come home." He pours me a cup of the wine that is brought, then he serves himself. "No offense, Cel, but there's no way in hell I'm letting you not win."

I'm too baffled to even protest. I know he was friends with Adrian; is that why he cares so much? Otherwise, I cannot even begin to fathom...

"Alright," I say quietly. "But I don't know why you care so much."

He gives me a thoroughly unamused look. Finnick takes a long drink of his wine and shakes his head.

"Alright. Come with me. We need to have a talk."