The 70th Hunger Games

Chapter One

"Annie," he hisses. The sun hasn't yet risen. I turn and look at him. His eyes beg me to come back. I know he can't follow me, can't be seen with me for fear of our lives. I should go back inside, talk to him that way, but I don't want to. Why should I listen to him complaining over how hard this is for him and us, what we are, is the only way he manages to carry on? I'm tired of it. I don't want to hear it again; he doesn't get how hard this is on me too.

It's always the same. I leave after an argument. He gives me his soppy eyes, I go back inside to hear him out, and then I buy every word of it. But not this time.

I shake my head and turn back to the road. I walk just five steps and then hear a bang of a door. It makes nearly jump out of my skin. Turning around I see that he's slammed it shut. It hurts, like he's just shut me out. Maybe he has.

The rain bounces off the ground around me, splattering my legs with mud. My hair is drenched, my clothes are clinging to me. Not much of clothes either. Shorts the colour of dried up seaweed with fraying legs and an oversized shirt of Finnick's I managed to grab before leaving. I left my shoes there, my cardigan, everything I had on me.

I know I can't go home yet. My grandmother will be waiting, and I don't want to talk, not tonight. There's only one place I can go. The beach.

Ignoring the feeling of stones poking into my bare feet I begin walking in that direction. I keep to the shadows just in case, but since there are no street lamps I don't worry that much. As I pass by Christaain's house, I take the piece of paper out from behind the plant pot and pull a pencil out from under the mat to write my message. 'Meet me on the beach, A x.' It was his idea to have a secret way of communicating. Ever since we were seven we've had it this way. It was easy enough to do. I take a shell out of my pocket and slip it through a little gap in the door frame, so that when he wakes he knows I've left a message. Discreet but very effective.

Now I continue to walk to the breach. The streets are beginning to lighten now, since it's the early morning. The sea air fills my nostrils, calming me a little. The sea gulls begin to wake and join the never-ending song of the sea. I reach the jetty and grin at the scene that greets me. The ocean.

The familiar lapping of the waves against the wooden boats makes me smile. The morning sun glitters on the water reminding me of Finnick's eyes when he's happy. Even the rains stopped.

"Morning Miss Cresta," I hear a familiar voice call. I turn to my left to see Christiaan's Dad standing on his boat, the Radiant Salli. I smile in memory. My mother, that's who it's named after. He was her best friend. After she died he named the boat after her. This morning he's moving today's haul from the boat onto shore, ready to take to the fist market.

I grin at him. "Hi Mr Rif."

"Off to the cove to meet Chris?"

"Yep. How did you guess?" I ask cheekily. I turn to walk to the beach, but he stops me.

"Annie." I turn just in time for him to chuck me his coat. "You must be freezing."

I smile gratefully, tugging it round my shoulders. Then I'm off. That's what I love about Mr Rif. Even when I'm standing in shorts and a shirt, soaked through, still he doesn't pry. It's a good thing too, since I can't tell him anyway.

On the beach I smile as my toes sink into the golden sand. I go to the usual spot: through a cave to a small cove that few people know about. It doesn't take him long to join me. Chris wears his usual shorts and shirt and jacket. Sitting down next to me, he grins. "You look a mess. Wild night?"

I glare at him. He laughs. "Okay okay. I'm sorry."

My scowl softens.

"Why are you up so early?" he asks.