Leave me to Die

4

After the boys leave, the guards take me to the train station with Bob. We don't talk on the way there, we don't know each other well enough for that. And that's how I want it to stay. Effie Trinket is waiting on the train for us, with another man. The train isn't anything remarkable, but it's got a dining car, a lounge car and cars with bunks in them. The rooms have just been fitted into a normal passenger train, all the seats stripped away and replaced with furniture. Bob and I are let onto the train, and we manage to find the lounge, where Effie and that blond man are waiting.

The train starts moving, and Bob and I grab hold of something to steady our weight as it pulls slowly out of Tulsa. My home. I go over to the window and watch as the city slowly fades away into the distance as the train picks up speed.

'Don't look like that. You'll be back here soon enough'

Yeah, when I'm 6 feet under in a coffin.

'Fine, be stubborn. That won't help you when it comes to life or death'

Effie claps her hands together with excitement. "Now! Y/n, and Bob, I'd like you both to meet your mentor, Haymitch Abernathy!" I turn around. The blond man raises a glass of whiskey at us and then downs it in one go. That's seemingly his only greeting. Bob sits down on the couch, but I stay standing, feeling really out of place.

If I squint, those three could be a happy family. Effie the mother, Haymitch the father, and Bob their son. I almost retch at the idea. 

I force myself to take a seat on the couch next to Effie, as a Soc and a greaser next to each other on the same couch wouldn't really end well. And I don't plan on making this year's Games an enemies-to-lovers thing, especially not when Bob has a girlfriend who was my best friend for 6 years. 

"Anyone want a drink?" Haymitch asks tiredly, eyeing me. "No thanks" I say. This is the one situation I don't need to get drunk in. Fortunately for me, Bob is all over that. He takes a glass from Haymitch without a second glance. Haymitch nods appreciatively at him, and then looks at me. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Scared of a little drink? It won't bite ya" he teases.

I scoff and roll my eyes. "Ah. I see. This one wasn't raised proper. She ain't never had a drink before, have you, missy?" Haymitch smirks. Bob laughs outright. I hold my tongue. "Come on, one glass. It won't kill ya-"

He's cut off as I lunge for him, my hands wrapping around the neck of the whiskey bottle. Once I have it, I stand up, flick the cap off, and raise the bottle to my lips. It's about half full, and stings my throat as it goes down, but it's the good kind of sting. Haymitche's smirk vanishes as I finish the bottle and set it down on the coffee table in front of him. "Well, guess I didn't give ya enough credit, sweetheart" he looks slightly shocked. 

'That expression is nothing. Wait till he sees how much Bob drinks'

I have to smirk at that comment from Prat. She's funny sometimes, when she's not constantly on my case about whatever.

Effie looks stunned too. "Underage drinking? Really, Haymitch?" 

"It's alright" I turn to Effie. "We don't have much regard for the rules, especially not in Tulsa city, and especially not when we're in gangs together, having poker nights or something. I've had plenty of drinks before. Anyone want a weed?" I hold out the pack from my jacket. Effie looks like she's about to faint away.