Panem High: Freshman Year

Chapter 4

"You can't do that!" Brutus hollered.

"I can so," Johanna screamed back.

"No! I'm the instructor!" he yelled.

"Instructor's assistant," she reminded him.

"I'm in charge of you! I know the rules here!" he said.

"Clearly not, 'cause Enobaria never said anything about us not being allowed to use the equipment within our surroundings to fight, asshole."

Enobaria marched over calmly. "Brutus, what's the problem?" she sighed dramatically, and from the sound of it, Johanna was not the first student he had attacked like this.

"This little shit swung from one of the climbing ropes and kicked me in the balls!" he complained loud enough for the whole class to hear.

"And?" Enobaria scoffed. "It's a tactical use of surroundings. In a real combat situation Miss Mason could someday find herself in, it would certainly help if she used the escape tool right beside her. It's only logical. Now stop causing problems with the goddamn kids. Mason, the fight's yours."

"WHAT?!" thundered Brutus.

"She outsmarted you and you tried to take her down with that. Mason, I've written that you won the fight. And I expect to see you in my next class." Johanna smirked. Brutus scowled.

"Now leave my goddamn classroom, Brutus," Enobaria added threateningly and hissed at him before returning to the group of kids. She assigned a few more kids to herself and Atala, and instructed Cato and Jamie to spar in the back corner. Johanna winked at her friend, who only rolled his eyes. She went to the rack of first-aid supplies in the back and fished a roll of medical tape out of one of the emergency kits, peeling up the edge and wrapping some of the adhesive cloth around two of her knuckles.

"Injured already?" asked a voice behind her. She turned around, startled, and saw the speaker. He was tall (not as tall as Cato, but still probably at least 5'10), with messy dirty-blond curls, freckles and brown-green eyes and a sturdy build, lanky but strong, and his voice had a slight southern drawl to it. He was very attractive, Johanna decided, after a few short moments of consideration over the matter.

"No, but while I was whooping Brutus's ass, I jammed my fingers. They're sorta bruised but as long as I don't strain 'em too bad, they'll be fine."

"Johanna Mason, yeah?" he asked her.

"Mhm," she said somewhat absentmindedly as she ripped the edge of the tape and sealed it around the two middle fingers of her left hand.

"Bo Duke," he said, offering his hand with a grin.

"You're kidding," she said, jaw nearly on the floor. He laughed, and Johanna studied the sound. It wasn't as deep as his voice, which, admittedly, also wasn't very deep, but Johanna liked it that way. It was sultry and warm and she thought that even if the sun on a summer day could talk, it would not sound as wonderful.

"Of course I'm kidding," he smiled. "Good show though, The Dukes of Hazzard. Ever seen it?"

"I have not," she replied. "But... Bo Duke?"

"He is one of the characters. But don't worry, my real name is just as depressing."

"And that is...?"

"MacDonald Grant."

"Oh, Lord," Johanna whined. "You will forever be in my prayers, MacDonald Grant."

"Mac," he suggested. "Now are you gonna shake my hand?" He nodded down, and she realized his arm was still extended towards her.

She took his outstretched hand in her own and shook. "A real southern boy," she laughed.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, heavily exaggerating his accent.

"I like it."

"Good."

"Just tell me you don't eat cactuses or lasso cows and we'll be alright."

"No I don't, miss," he laughed, playing on the accent again.

"Okay," she grinned.

The next time she made eye contact with Cato, it was him winking at her. She made a face.

"Your boyfriend?" Mac asked politely.

"No sir," she chuckled.

"You like him that way?"

"I barely like him as a friend," Johanna scowled.

"I just thought, when he winked at you-"

"Jesus, Mr. Southern Boy, am I not currently flirting with you? Are my intentions not clear? Or do you need a slideshow presentation?"

"I might need a slideshow," he teased her lightly.

"Of course you might."

Authour's Note:  I literally wanna buy Mac. He is so charming and I know I created him with the messed up workings of my mind but still, I want him to be real so bad. (Also please ignore how I spell "authour" if that bothers you at all. I'm Canadian and I swear the only thing I learned in school from kindergarten to grade four was spelling words with extra u's (honour, colour, neighbour, etc.). And of course, I had to have Johanna make Mac feel like a dumbass because... you know, she's Johanna. Hopefully, I will update later today or tomorrow. I am going to try and update this story every day during the quarantine/lockdown as well as my Clato One-Shots (if you haven't read that please go check it out!) and if I miss a day or two I swear I'm trying...

Also, the whole "Bo Duke" thing is a joke for my dad. I have an iMessage group chat with my family and I sent a character description of Mac and asked for name ideas for him and he suggested Bo Duke because he used to be obsessed with Dukes of Hazzard, so I decided to play on that. (Mac's real name (not the MacDonald part, just Mac) was suggested by my mom. Some other suggestions were Luke (basic), Weston (ick), Everett (*heart eyes*), Jake (ew), Samuel (meh) and Jamieson (which I thought kinda followed Suzanne Collins' whole thing for unusual names, but all in all I don't like the name Jamieson that much). For all the names other than Jamieson, it's not that I didn't like the names, I just didn't think they suited his character very well.