It Comes in Waves

Nine

The minute I walk into the apartment, Annora grabs my arm and pulls me into the living room.

"How did it go?" She questions. She leads me to the couch and sits me down. Then she has me sit down in a soft maroon chair next to the chair Mags is currently occupying.

I glance around the living room, expecting to see Louis lurking somewhere, but he's no where to be found. This confuses me. He promised me last night when I was nervous that he'd be upstairs the entire time, ready to hear how it went the minute I got out.

"Where's Louis?" When I look back at their faces Mags is grimacing. Annora, on the other hand, doesn't look fazed at all. She blows the question off with a wave of her absurdly manicured hand.

"Oh, he had some business to get to in the Capitol. He'll be back before dinner," she says.

I try my hardest not to look disappointed. Annora buys it with the same enthusiasm she probably bought the light-up dress she's wearing. Mags, on the other hand, just looks at me sadly.

I sit there silently until Annora gives me a look so pointed that I remember she asked me a question.

"Oh, it went okay." I have no desire to retell it in great detail. Annora, on the other hand, wants to know everything about it, right down to the shoes the Head Gamemaker was wearing.

After suffering through her questions, she feels satisfied that her mental picture is complete.

"I'm guessing you'll probably get somewhere between a five and seven. You could have gotten higher, had you not hesitated. Why did you do that?" she asks.

I'd explained my hesitation to throw, but hadn't clarified why. It seems just as foolish now as it did then.

"I'm just used to taking a second to collect myself before throwing. Helps with the aim," I lie. I feel guilty almost immediately after, and I avert my eyes and take to staring at the carpet. I don't have the words to explain to Annora-an avid lover of the Games and all the violence it ensues-that I cannot stand violence. That it makes my heart ache and my head throb and my limbs shake. That the first time I saw the Peacekeepers whip someone publicly, I cried for two hours. So I say nothing of it.

After my detailed recount of the session, Annora leaves to go to Sophia's room to try and get her to tell more about it. Mags and I sit in silence until she asks me a question. I miss it the first time, but she repeats herself.

"He wanted to be here, not there," she says.

She doesn't have to clarify who or what she's talking about, and I don't pretend she has to. She knows that as much as I try to pretend that I don't, I do care that he wasn't here.

"It's fine. I'm a bit disappointed, but I'm sure Annora will love to have the job of retelling it to him once he gets back," I say.

I smile, thinking of how enthusiastic Annora will get, and how it will probably turn into one of the overdramatic Capitol soap operas on television before she's done. Which is precisely why I'm sure Louis will cut her off as politely and kindly as he can halfway through and ask me to tell it.

Mags shakes her head.

"He's going to want to hear it from you."

"I was thinking that might be the case." I tug uneasily at my hair, wondering what score I'm going to get. If it's anything better than awful, I worry the Careers are going to know I was exaggerating my sensitive side when I talked to them. Something tells me they won't get too thrilled over being tricked. I almost hope it's atrocious.

"So what's the real reason you waited to throw the knife?" Mags asks casually. I shoot her a look of disbelief, and she starts laughing. "You sweet child, no one but Annora could have fallen for that. You are horrible at lying."