Dizzy on the Rooftop (Sampson)

[zakattack]

The days passed slowly after the storm, thankfully there wasn’t much damage; a few branches blown out of trees their leaves scattering through the rows of trees like the confetti from the tribute parade. Nothing that wouldn’t be fixed with time and hard work. Which was what the people of District 11 had spent doing, collecting the limbs and twigs, piling them up to save for later in the year when the chill would set in and we’d need to find warmth in our little homes. Of course we never stopped our working in the orchards as I was once again shimmying up and down the trees with ease for hours a day though my mind kept falling back to Deval and our chance meeting. Was he thinking of me too?

[/i] Every so often I’d catch my eyes scanning around me hoping to see him looking back, but it hadn’t happened yet. Maybe it wouldn’t happen again. The rest of the day passes so slowly with his smile in my memories.

That night the yelling and hollering in my home is much of the same. I hate dealing with it. There was never enough of anything in our home. Space. Love. Happiness…there wasn’t enough of anything but the frustration of our situations. Maybe my siblings should’ve moved out, moved on, but when there is no money to support us then how could they? So we all stay crowded in our little shanty stuffed into the corners with nowhere to escape to. Except me. I won’t stay in this hellhole unless I have to.

I dart out in the middle of the night. The humid air practically a blanket the way it wraps me up bringing an almost instant sheen of sweat over the bare skin on my arms and sliver of stomach showing in the too small tank top. . The Cortos all wore our clothes till they were too tattered to be anything else. [/i] My eyes close trying to adjust myself to the silence of the darkness around me. There isn’t much else going on this late at night, we should all be in bed, but even so there is a random chirrup of a cricket or mumble of words falling through the cracks of the houses I dart by. I know where I’m going even though the only light is that of the moon and the stars, its such a beautiful night. Softly my feet carry me up the hill at the edge of our small gathering of houses, some call it a town since there are so many little congregations spread out throughout the vast orchards and farms of our district.

The closer I get to the top of the hill the more aware I am of the fact I’m not alone. Softly spoken words fill the air around me and I don’t want to interrupt. Suddenly the voice registers and I feel that rush in my blood. My heart beating so loud I think the entire District could hear me. Closing my eyes again I try to calm myself as I whisper, “Deval?”[/color]
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[Sampson]

I hate nights like this.

After the storm, the earth now bathed anew with the plentiful sheets of summer rain, the air is heavy with humidity. It touches everything, fills every space. Settled beside Sampson in our seemingly bigger bed, I can feel the gloss of sweat collecting on my skin. I'm sweating in the heat of the night, unable to escape the moisture that's so thick in the air. The rain had felt amazing the other day, but now? I almost regret it. The humid fog that followed is suffocating. Inching further away from Sampson, my body turned on my side to make sure I don't touch him, I try my best to sleep. The darkness of our room makes it impossible to truly tell, but I'm pretty sure Sampson has already drifted off. But he's fooled me before; he got really good at pretending to sleep, when in reality he was crying. I don't bother to check as I leave, however. I can only hope he's doing better.

Departing from the room, I grab a pair of shorts and one of my white undershirts. It's hotter than hell, but I still don't have the guts to walk outside in only my boxers. Mother taught me better than that and if she caught me, I'm pretty sure I'd get a beating for it, so I pull on the clothes as I head out the door. Bare feet pressing into the dew-covered grass, the path to my typical spot for nights like these is familiar enough to know in the dark. My eyes haven't entirely adjusted to the dark, but I let my memories of the trail in the daylight guide me there. I feel the earth rising beneath my feet, my calves suddenly strained a little as I begin to ascend the hill.

As I reach the top, I no longer have to see in the dark. My world is suddenly illuminated by the stars. Millions of them litter the night sky, brighter than I've seen them in days. "Why so bright today, hm?" I begin to talk to my dead brother. He has to be somewhere and he wanted to end up in the stars, I'll believe it. "It's been awhile," my hand moves to wipe the sweat from my forehead as I speak, "I'm sure you know everything though, right? You must keep watch. I know it." I allow myself to smile a little. "Right, Benat?" I breathe out the words, biting back the ever-present hope that I might actually get a reply.

"Deval?"
For the briefest moment, I believe it's actually Benat answering. My heart leaps before my mind has time to set it straight with a little bit of logic. It's a girl's voice. It's Asha, not Benat. Flooded with a sick mixture of emotion (disappointment, anger, relief, happiness...), I turn to face the girl I had met not long ago. What is she doing out so late? I feel that familiar anger that comes with being embarrassed because I've been caught red handed in my most vulnerable state. But I know this girl. Sort of. Well enough to believe she won't do me any wrong, but it doesn't mean my beliefs are always right. "What are you doing over here?" I try to keep the bite of anger from showing in my voice, but it's difficult. I'm not the smoothest at controlling my feelings. I am happy to see her, truly. It's just hard to express when I suddenly feel so exposed. Right now, I am a fool who talks to the stars.

[zakattack]

And just like that my elation at my discovery falters. There’s an edge of a sharp tone on his words and I take a step back ashamed that I was excited to see him. “I…”, my eyes fall to the ground and my bare dirty feet as once more start chewing the inside of my cheek, the skin still hadn’t healed from the time before but the little pricks of pain remind me that I still need to answer, “I didn’t want to be at home anymore…so I came to where I always do.”

[/color] This was my spot, I’d been coming here for years when I wanted to forget the clutter of my home, so why was he the one accusing me of being in the wrong. My arms fold over my chest covering the budding bosoms of my teenage change and I stare back at him as if to beg him not to stay angry.

I couldn’t give up my hill, my hiding spot, not to him, not to anyone. I don’t have anything else that is mine. [/i] Even as the thoughts cross my mind I realize this place isn’t truly mine. You can’t own land in Panem, it’s all theirs. Pausing a moment I try to figure out what to say. I didn’t really hear much of what he said, but I know he’s the only one up here and that in itself is a bit of a relief. Swallowing my pride and anger and other wad of conflicting emotions that only a teenage girl could feel, I move back towards him sitting softly on the ground next to him. He towers over me and I wait for him to join, saying a silent prayer that he doesn’t run off. Just because I didn’t want to be around my family doesn’t mean I want to be alone.

Tall grass tickles the bare skin of my legs that are already covered in scratches and little bug bites as I stretch them out in front of me. The cotton shorts I’m wearing soak up the dew on the blades but I don’t care, when I’m up here nothing matters but the silence and my dreams, and now my friend [/i]. The stars are so beautiful tonight even brighter than normal, as if wishing on them would make all my dreams come true, and I sigh as I look up at the sky. “Don’t leave yet. I don’t want to be alone.”[/color] Taking a deep breath I look over and meet his eyes, “Please.”[/color]

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[Sampson]

I've messed up. From the way her voice deflates like a dying breath of air and how her words are as hesitant as steps in a sleeping house, I can tell that Asha was not expecting my bitter words. She has interrupted me and my brother, but does not know it. “I didn't want to be at home anymore…so I came to where I always do,” she explains why she's visited, why she is not the one who is trespassing. I'm the interloper, the one who has intruded on a territory that does not belong to me. The hill has already been claimed by another. I'd wanted it because it was higher than the rest of District 11, unless I were to scale a tree. Being higher means being closer to the stars, closer to Benat.

Wiping my hands across my face as I let out an exhausted sigh, the feeling of guilt overcomes my anger. She doesn't know why I am so defensive of the hill, nor that I was talking to the stars as if they are my brother. I'm still sweating, more so now from how nervous I suddenly am. Have I damaged one of the easiest friendships I've had since the end of Benat? It's been a nightmare trying to keep/make friends. It'd probably be easier if I stopped trying to pick fights all the time, but again, I'm powerless to the anger I always feel. “Sorry, I...” the apology dies in my throat. If I'm bad at controlling my temper, I'm even worse at apologies.

She sits beside my feet and I sink down without thinking much of it. “Don’t leave yet. I don’t want to be alone,” Asha wants me to stay and I don't know why, “Please.” I've intruded on her hill and treated her like a trespasser in her own haven away from her family. But perhaps she'll still let us share this place away from everything. I look to the stars again. “I didn't mean to be rude,” I begin talking my way to a truce, to better ground to stand on between us, “I just like this place because it has a great view of the stars. Maybe it's the heat getting to me.” The words just keep coming out because I don't know how to explain what the hill means to me. My fingers comb through the cool grass, relieving some of the heat from me. “I'll stay. If you say so, I won't go,” I watch her carefully, trying to understand how this girl could have an entire house full of family and feel so alone.

[zakattack]

Almost as if someone up there heard my silent pleas to have Deval stay with me he sinks down, the ghost of an apology starting to falter on his lips. I can’t help but shake my head. I don’t need his apologies, he didn’t do anything wrong. As much as I want this to be my secret place, deep down I know it isn’t just mine. “Don’t.” I whisper as he stops. Apologies are only words, but his staying with me means so much more. I hear his hands in the grass so very close to mine and my heart races under the sprinkling of dewdrops from the blades he shook so softly.

“I didn’t mean to startle you…and you weren’t rude…well not really that rude. My brothers are rude. You’re just…different.”

[/color] The words spill out and I’m blushing a furious red again, “Not like bad different. Just…I don’t know. You seem to understand without me having to say much.”[/color] I give a shrug as if it’s the most natural explanation of friendship. Which it is, Deval doesn’t need to hear me ramble on to know that I understand things either. Our hands still so close together is all I can focus on and I’m scared that soon my thump thump thumping heart will give me away. Chewing on my bottom lip I flop back laying prone on the grassy hill my eyes taking in the stars and trying to figure out just how or what I should say. They really are beautiful. [/i] We really are closer to them up here, almost as if we’re lifted away from all the hurt and pain in the little homes below.

“I’d never make you leave.”[/color] I mumble as my head rolls to the side to gaze up at him. “You’re better company than anyone else I know. Plus you’re kinda funny when you want to be.”[/color] I smile and tease giving him a playful shove with my hand without thinking. Suddenly I realize what I’m doing and I pull my hand back quickly, my whole bodying burning with a furious flush that I can’t hide. I want to get up and run, I want to disappear into the trees and shrubs around us, but as the night flickers with the lights of fireflies around us I simply stumble awkwardly over my words, “Um...yeah..”[/color] My eyes search his and I hope he doesn’t make me leave.

I can’t help the strange embarrassment that comes over me when I touch him, its not like when I wrestle around with my brothers at home. There was something in the brush of my hand against the hair of his leg that was very much not like my brothers. The way it made me feel a stirring in the pit of my stomach and a urge to want to touch him again…it wasn’t something I had felt before. So instead of focusing on him I look at the sky once more. “Why do you like the stars so much? My father used to say that if you wish hard enough on them your wishes would come true…but I know that’s just silly now.”[/color]
You can’t wish away being who I am. [/i]

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[Sampson]

When she stops me from apologizing, I'm relieved from the impossible task. It sends a wave of gratitude through my body. At least Asha doesn't let me squirm uncomfortably just to earn an apology she truly does deserve. She just seems to understand the effort and hopefully that will suffice as my sincerest way of saying 'sorry'. And just as I'm coming upon the realization that Asha doesn't need words to understand, she reveals that she believes I hold that very same power. Her cheeks flood with a color red that makes even an apple pale in comparison. It makes a smile pull at my lips because at least we are both struggling.

She collapses back on the grass, sight full of the stars. In the blue of her eyes, the galaxy suddenly makes itself at home and I wonder if that makes Benat's stars more beautiful. Their shining forms are so alive in Asha's eyes that I know I'm stuck. She'll look away from the night for a moment and catch me, staring like the fool I am.
"I’d never make you leave," she rolls her head to the side, the stars vanishing as she witnesses me staring. I press my lips together and pull at the grass. The blades of green are cold between my fingers. I think she says I'm funny, but my heart is pulsing in my ears and I'm not sure if I'm listening to my own thoughts or her voice anymore. Why am I so on edge? I don't really have time to scan my brain for answer because Ash suddenly pushes into me with her hand. It's a playful smack, one that makes me remember the many sparring duels I'd had with Benat or Sampson. The gesture is one of friendship, but one that makes Asha's face burst with color again. A firefly flashes right next to her ear and I can see how red her skin is. It makes me wonder if the blush will cover the freckles so prominent on her face, but I can't tell in the darkness.

I'm grinning, trying not to laugh at her embarrassment, when she asks about my love for the stars. The sweat collecting on my skin boils as I look at Asha. "Be good… be brilliant… be… be what they need. ‘Cause they need you… you don’t know… they need you…" Benat's words echo in my mind. They're not the ones that usually come forward, not the ones about stars and death and being something bigger than anything you ever were when you were alive. I'm not sure how to explain my obsession affection for the night sky. Asha probably wants to know why because it is that fascination that has driven me to intrude on her hill. Inhaling a deep breath, I try to find words.

"It's mainly 'cause of Benat," his name feels weird on my tongue because I'm not saying it to Sampson or another family member. I'm attempting to explain this philosophy about my dead brother without seeming crazy. "He thought everything was made of stardust or something," I try to make it sound less serious, but also not degrading to Benat's dying beliefs, "When you die, he thought we all went back to the stars or the moon or... yeah." It's my turn to flush red because I have no idea how it all sounds coming out of my mouth.

[zakattack]

When I roll my head towards him I’m surprised to see him staring at me. My breath catches in my chest and I can’t look away. There’s something about him, I just…I feel my finger tips itching to run along the side of his arms glowing with the sticky heat of the night. Yet the grin on his lips vanish and he pushes his mouth into a thin line. The same way I did back in the alley with the boy in the rain… But I’m sucked into the little smack I gave him and the embarrassment that followed.

He doesn’t seem to mind the touch of my hand; in fact it brought that smile back to his face. The darkness around us starts to flutter with a gentle breeze ruffling the branches and giving a few seconds of relief from the heat. I can feel Deval’s eyes on me again and suddenly I’m aware of the dampness of my shirt and the trickles of sweat falling down my back making my hair curl up in a mess against it. Running my fingers through my hair I stay sitting up and look back at him as he speaks of his brother. The words he quotes echo through me. I remember them so clearly, the pain I felt when I realized someone here wasn’t going to be coming back, and I realize those words would stick with Deval for the rest of his life. Benat was talking to him.

[/i] I want to reach over once more to comfort him, but he continues and I hold back.

“I remember him talking about stars...”[/color] I whisper as he stops, “And I think that his thoughts are brilliant. Where else would we go? I don’t want to think that when we’re gone, we’re gone for good.”[/color] This time I don’t hold back, if he wants to talk about Benat we can, I’ll listen, I’ll do anything I can to let him at least have a bit of time to let go of everything that had to be building up inside. Memories don’t just disappear, they only get easier with time. [/i] This time I notice his cheeks are red, like he’s the one saying something absurd or like I’m the one that’s making him nervous.

Building up all the courage inside me I scoot over closing the gap between us and I think my heart might explode with adrenaline. He’s had his arms around me once, in the alley in the rain with the strange boy, and now I’m once against wondering what that might feel like without the fear driving it. My tongue darts out over my lips wetting them as I start chewing on my lower lip again picking a flake of dead skin off with my teeth. It’s so hot out and the closer I get to Deval the hotter it seems to get. I don’t know if it’s the weather or if it is me but I can feel the pooling at the small of my back and hope he doesn’t realize just how nervous I am. “Do you talk to him a lot? He seemed like an amazing…”[/color] I pause for a second trying to choose the best word letting my hand fall in the small empty space between us toying with the grass near Deval’s leg. “man. A very amazing man.”[/color] Because that’s what happens when boys are brave and funny and all of the things Benat proved to be, they stop being boys and become men. My eyes look up to meet Deval’s and I wonder if he is a man as well.
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[Sampson]

The heat is getting to me. I can't stop the sweat from pooling in my palms or the drops that collect around the edge of my hair. It makes me feel like I'm ill, like the time I got the flu when I was younger and had to sweat out my temperature. Benat had first explained to me that it was our body's way of defending itself, that we were getting attacked and that sweating was similar to our body bleeding out the infection. Except, it wasn't blood coating my body, it was always just little droplets of salty water. I feel that way now, like my body is being assaulted by something within and I'm trying to rid myself of it before it becomes dangerous. I'm so screwed, the thought makes me wipe my forehead.

Asha's talking and I try my best to focus on her words. "And I think that his thoughts are brilliant. Where else would we go? I don’t want to think that when we’re gone, we’re gone for good," she sides with Benat, making me wonder if I wasn't his brother, if she'd still say that. There are people like that, those few who lie to your face in order to make you feel better or avoid conflict. 'Sorry to hear about your brother. I was rooting for him,' they'd say and you can just tell by the look in their eyes that they are lying. They'd wanted the girl from our district to come home instead, maybe even wanted the girl from 4 to win because she was pretty and had a kid to go home to. It wasn't even bad that they wanted another to win other than my brother; everyone had their reasons for coming out of that arena. It's the lying that kills me. I press my shirt into my chest and stomach, allowing the cotton to soak up all the moisture.

She scoots closer to me, thoroughly increasing my heartbeat and my feverish sweating. If it wasn't so humid tonight, it'd be completely obvious how nervous I am and how terrifying the whole thing is. "Do you talk to him a lot? He seemed like an amazing…" she pauses for a brief moment, "man. A very amazing man." I smile because Benat was more of a man than I will be for a long time. Two year may not seem like a lot, but I know it will take me longer than that to ever measure up to him.
"I talk to him more than I'd like to admit," my answer is light-hearted, as I'm trying to shake off some of my nerves, "He was an amazing man. Best I've known." I wonder if the people I've 'known' includes myself, but even if it does, Benat still wins.
My hands are trembling, so I bury them into the grass again to make them stop. I wasn't this shaken in the cold of the rain. What's wrong with me now? My eyebrows crease as I think hard about Asha and the fever that's trying to defend me from something.

Swallowing hard, I try to change the subject to something that tells me more about Asha. The topic of her is one I find more and more interesting as time goes by. "What's your family like?" the words come out and I instantly add, "If you don't mind me asking." She seems to get disheartened when we talk about family and it's been pestering me that I don't know why. Is that me being a fool again? Isn't it considered bad conversation when you talk about things that make you sad? Well, it's a little late for that anyway. Yeah, Benat. I move to adjust my weight, as my left foot is falling asleep and I can feel the needles already. It's unintentional, but I end up leaning a little too far towards Asha and our flesh touches. Either my sweat or hers makes it cold. Nervous as I am, I don't pull away. I'm bigger than that.

[zakattack]

I can see him press his hands against his shirt, pushing the damp cotton against his stomach accentuating his muscles and reminding me of just how sticky I am as well. I’m sure that the river of sweat on the few inches of bare skin between the hem of my shorts and the top of my tank top is just as glistening has his is. For some reason the thought of him looking at the flesh of my navel and hip bones makes me feel like my heart is going to come out of my chest and up my throat spilling my guts all over the grass in front of us. There’s no way he’d think I’m fat, I’m just a lanky twig due to under feeding and so much work, but what if he didn’t like me like that, what if he wanted me to cover up. He probably thought my old shorts were too short and shirt too small on purpose and I chew the inside of my lip till the tang of blood is on my tongue. I can’t help that I’m too poor to get clothes that fit right...

[/i] and I can’t help the way my eyes are glued to the way his eyes light up with the shimmer of starlight and fire flies when he admits to talking to Benat often.

Its sweet the way he admires his brother, and who wouldn’t when you’d just lost him, but did he feel the same when Benat was around? Or was it his death that made him more of perfect brother. “Bet he was better than all 4 of my brothers put together...”[/color] I can’t help but mumble shamefully. I feel his hands in the grass next to mine and I could swear my heart stopped for a moment. Looking up at him I smile with something so sincere and truthful at the moment that it almost hurts me, “Bet you’ll be a lot like him too. ”[/color] and with that my hand, so tiny and slender, slips over and finds its way into his. I can feel the worn callouses from the fields forming on his hands, matching up with the ones the trees give me, as my fingers lace into his. The sweat between our palms almost burns like fire with the electricity in my blood and I hope he won’t push me way as he shifts adjusting how he sits and our arms touch. For a moment I just wait for it but when he doesn’t move I swear the world stands still and I nearly forget about what he asked.

How do I answer that. Taking a deep breath I try to regain myself. Between the friction of our skin, now touching in several places, and the intimacy of his question I don’t even know how to explain myself. I want to just sit and enjoy the moment, to forget about why I came here and who I am, but with Deval being so open about his brother and his pain it almost feels disrespectful not to at least let him know something about me. “You know I’m a Corto so I got a lot of siblings. Four brothers, one sister. Oldest is 25 and my sister just turned 19...They all still live at home…we don’t really have enough money to help them move out so we all share the house…”[/color] I say with my eyes looking at the sky. Anything to not let him see how much it bothers me. “They ain’t bad or anything. They just…”[/color] and I shrug.

It’s hard to talk about it, to talk about them. I’m sure Deval knows what people say. I’m sure he’s heard the taunts of “Bastard” and “whore child” I’ve heard my whole life. The ones I pretend don’t bother me but the really rip me apart inside. Wrinkling my nose and trying to push my family out of my head I look over to Deval, this time its his eyes that reflect everything that could be and should be in the sky at me. “It doesn’t bother you I’m poor does it?…”[/color] and what I'm really trying to say I hope he understands. I want to know that even though I'm not really a Corto, that I can really be something to him. That being a bastard...being a failure...doesn't matter in his eyes.
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[Sampson]

Sitting beside Asha, with the stars as my ceiling and the warm earth as my floor, I feel empty and full, all at the same time. I'm empty with my fever, hollow with the need to protect myself and the fear to act where I desire. Yet, that same desire burns within me, filling the open space with ashes of my wanting. Wanting. What is it that I want? The girl beside me or just the company of another? I'm so confused about it all and I suddenly wish that Benat would lean down from the stars and whisper the smallest bit of advice right in my ear. He'd know what I want and how I could get it and why I'm too afraid to find out for myself. That's why Sampson loved loves him so. Benat had a way of bringing out the best of everyone, even if it seemed like he brought out the ugly parts of those girls that killed him in the Games. He knew how to guide people towards their dreams, how to get people to realize what they wanted. How? I have no idea. He just always had himself together and that seemed to be contagious enough to reach other people.

"Bet he was better than all 4 of my brothers put together..." Asha says. Is it bad that I'd bet that too? I've never even met her brothers, but I'm almost positive Benat would best them all. It's either because I'm so sure of my older brother's greatness after his death or because I know how upset Asha gets when she thinks about her family. What kind of boys could her brothers be if they upset her so much? "Bet you’ll be a lot like him too," she adds and I smile.
"I can only hope so," my words are truthful, but there's something missing, something I'm hiding. But not too much like him. I don't want the Games. I don't want the death. I'd die happy if I grew up to be anything compared to Benat, but would it also mean dying young? I'll never know if it was his honor in the Games that made him so great it my eyes. I'll never go looking for the answer either, because I'm so afraid of what I might discover.

She grabs my hand. It's a simple affair, one that includes our palms touching and fingers knotting together. The gesture makes my nerves calm slightly, which surprises me. If I had thought about the idea of holding her hand earlier, I'm pretty sure it would have just made me sweat more, but now that it's actually happening, I feel like I can suddenly breathe, like my fever has begun to die in my body. It's such a calming feeling, one that allows me to relax as I listen to her talking about her family. Even so, the feeling doesn't last as she begins to explain more about her family's failing financial security. My newly-found ease with the situation goes as quickly as it came when she asks, "It doesn’t bother you I’m poor does it?…"

Grip tightening gradually around her hand to provide what I wanted to be a reassuring squeeze (it's probably more awkward than reassuring), I can't help but smile. My upturned lips part and I start to laugh as I answer. "Aren't we all poor?" I ask, as if it's common knowledge that no one in District 11 is far enough away from starvation or poverty to be considered "rich". Hell, I can't even think of anyone who would be considered that well off. Just thinking that Asha might be insecure about her family's wealth seems humorous to my ears. "We can be poor together," I snicker, "Besides, I'd rather be counting stars than counting money any day." Settled beneath the night sky and all its eyes, I'm perfectly content beside Asha. I just hope she knows that.

[zakattack]

My heart is racing as I wait for him to jerk away. To pull back and leave me sitting there feeling foolish with my out reached hand still wanting for his...but it never happens, instead he settles back in and the tension I felt in his hand seemed to float away. Was he wanting this too?

[/i] Did he wonder what it was like to touch someone else in a way that was platonic but a bit more? Did he have those flutterings so deep inside his stomach he couldn’t ignore them, and the nervous feeling that ate away at every bit of confidence I could muster? Did he really wanted me to snuggle up a bit closer to him like I couldn’t help but do as he wished he could be like Benat.

I couldn’t help the way my body shifted towards his as he let those words drop, I knew he’d be like Benat, just looking at him was proof of that. But what sealed it for me was the compassion I could see in his eyes as he watched the stars. The longing to be like the brother who was taken too soon was written all over his face. He wouldn’t fail at being the best man he could be. His pride wouldn’t let him.

When I mention my family it’s like the security he seemed to find in my touch was gone again, he just didn’t understand why I didn’t like them and why they didn’t like me. It wasn’t even that, I did like them, but they didn’t like me because of something I didn’t choose. I didn’t tell Pa to go betray his wife I didn’t tell him to bring me back, I didn’t even know. And when Deval laughs about my question I almost pull my hand away as he squeezes it gently. He doesn’t understand that poor is different when you’re really poor. He still had food and clothes that fit, not hand me downs from the neighbors after they were so worn their own kids wouldn’t even use them; but when he continued about the stars I left my hand where it was gripping on to his a bit tighter myself. “You really are…special Deval.”[/color] the words come out mumbled as I smile and blush. My eyes dart away from him and I can’t help but feel this want for him to think me special too.

The idea of us being together floods my mind. What does he mean by that, like together as friends, as people in district 11, people of Panem…or does he mean something more. Giving out an awkward giggle I look over at him. “Even if all the money meant we’d never be hungry or need anything material again? I don’t know, having real food on the table every night sounds pretty awesome. Think about something like roasted groosling there without even having to choose between it and oil…”[/color] I could just see the bird all browned and glistening with fat and it was enough to make my mouth water. “But I think I’d pick sitting here with you over it any day.”[/color] My eyes meet his once more and this time I don’t find myself blushing but I do feel a wanting deep inside my heart to see if he could be a friend I really do need...and maybe a little (a lot) of wanting for him to be so much more.
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[Sampson]

When Asha calls me special, it seems odd to hear. Special was being in the Games and dying with honor. Special was surviving the Games and living with remorse. Special was never being touched by the Reaping and having a normal life. I'm wedged in between those extremes, always stuck in my role as the middle child. When the Reaping took my sibling, it touched my entire family and we lost our normalcy. Benat became special. Benat was always special. I am not. It's like I am on the verge of being special, even if it's a place I never wanted to be. My brother's valiant sacrifice has positioned me there and I'm waiting for the final push that will allow me to fall back into normal or become like my brother. I'm pretty sure that push will come from my next few Reapings. If I become like Benat and go off to war, then I will be special. The Reaping has a way of finding special people. It won't find me if I'm not.

Or am I confusing being special with being important? Is there a difference?

I don't have much time to sort any of it out, as Asha begins talking about hunger and groosling. I've never considered myself materialistic, either. I like having things, items like food and clothes, but not to the point where it would sway my words or actions. What a person has doesn't make them any more valuable than another, or any more likeable for that matter. Sure, it might make life a little easier to have some extra cash, but I never put much faith in the idea that money would ever change my life drastically. There are so many other factors to worry about, so many other things that make life better or worse. I'd never wanted anything that I could buy with money so bad that it had affected my health. Nothing fell in that category, except for my expected desire to just have Benat alive and back home. He's what I want and no amount of money could raise him from the grave. "Money's not all it's cracked up to be," I respond, but I know money is what gets food and that's pretty much as good as people say it is. I just want Asha to know that it's not as important to me as it is to everyone else.

"But I think I’d pick sitting here with you over it any day," she adds and I hope it means she likes being with me and not just that she knows that money doesn't mean everything, because I know she understands that better than anyone. When I think of the size of her family and the miniscule pay each parent must earn, the image of an empty kitchen table comes to mind. How often did she go without food? Did the other kids eat, even when Asha didn't? I'd never have the guts to ask. It's none of my business and girls don't like to be babied, anyhow. Or, at least I think they don't. I'm no expert on girls, if it isn't obvious by how nervous I am just to hold Asha's hand.

The heat doesn't seem nearly as bad, even if I'm still sweating. It has to be more my nerves than the temperature now. "I'm glad to hear that," I lick my lips as I reply, "Coming from you, it means the world." No, it means the world and the stars. I've put my hand in hers, but it feels like I've just placed my heart in her sweating palm. It's crazy, I know, but it feels like I'm waiting for her to crush it. I'm waiting for Ivy Soren to finish me off with a final blow from her flail. I'm waiting, still.

[zakattack]

Money may not be all it cracked up to be, but money would stop the ache deep inside me that never seemed to go away. The dull throb of the pit of my stomach where food should be almost makes me shake my head in disgust as I realize he doesn’t quite understand how little I really have and how much he does, but my anger is quelled by his comment about how me sitting with him means the world. My head nearly spins with the thought of being so important to someone. To a boy…no a man like Deval. I wanted to be important…but how many other girls has he said the same thing too. Its not hard to see the couples in our town strolling around and holding hands. To know the way they slip off in the stalks of corn with stolen kisses and secret moans that sound more like pleasure than pain. How many girls has Deval lured away for little kisses and moans? Was I just a number to him?

[/i]

Maybe it was my general distrust of people starting to slip back into my blood, but I couldn’t imagine I was the first girl Deval had talked to in the dark with sweet whispers of joy and happiness. He was too handsome to have been as green as me. Just holding his hand was more than I’d ever done. Boys avoided me like the plague with my soiled last name and lanky arms. I wasn’t beautiful, I wasn’t even kind, so why was he so nice to me. “Do you bring lots of girls to places like this?”[/color] the words fall out before I can catch them but the answer is something I need to know.

I don’t want to be just something that fades away. I want to be something that glows brighter than the sun.

“Cause…I’ve never…This is just…well its really new to me.”[/color] I whisper nearly quiet as the ruffle of the grass below us. My face burns red and I feel hot and ashamed to just have admitted my innocence. Boys don’t like girls who have no clue what they’re doing, at least that’s what the girls say at school. They say that boys like girls who know how to kiss and touch and play the grown up games that teenagers do…not silly little school girls who have never even touched a boy til this night.

Loosening my grip on his hand I lay back into the grass the dew and the dampness of my skin cooling me slightly as I gaze up at the stars. Chiggers and no-see-em bugs nip at my skin and I don’t even bother swatting them away as I roll my head towards Deval. Chewing on my lower lip I try to find the words to make him know that I want to see him again…and again…and again…that I want this to become a regular thing, us talking alone without the hindrances of our lives. I want to make this our secret spot.
“Can this be our hill now...instead of just mine?”[/color]



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[Sampson]

It feels like I've been sitting next to Asha for a lifetime. Surely the night is starting to die by now. I can't help but search the darkness and the stars for traces of any colors that would signal the birth a new morning. How long have we been sitting here? My fingers press further into her flesh, as if the thought of the night ending means they'll never get to tangle with Asha's again. Who knows, maybe that is all this is. A single heart-to-heart that will mean nothing in the morning. It was by chance that we even met up on this little hill in the first place. Our encounter on this starry night is something orchestrated by fate, and fate always has a funny way of playing things out. My entire connection to Asha has been by chance, from colliding with her in the rain to meeting her here. The same factor that says whether or not a coin lands heads or tails is the only thing that keeps me somehow meeting this girl whose hand I'm holding. I'm afraid of what will happen when we suddenly get a streak of landing on tails, our paths suddenly heading in opposite directions, never to cross so luckily like they have recently.

I run my free hand through my hair, making sure it still looks alright, as Asha suddenly speaks up. It's been quiet for awhile, but her voice doesn't surprise me for a moment. While I'm not much for conversation, she fits perfectly for filling in the silence. "Do you bring lots of girls to places like this?" she asks and I can't help but feel something drop in my stomach. Will she even believe me if I tell her the truth? Something tells me she won't believe that I am completely new to this. I'm not one for any of this kind of stuff. My tongue feels dry in my mouth. Do I admit to such an insecurity that I have never even held a girl's hand before this, even with the very real possibility that she won't believe me? I don't even want to answer this question, let alone know how to. I'm a teenage boy. I'm supposed to have all the experience in the world, because that's what we all do with our hormones. We chase girls and kiss them when they are least expecting it and then make a relationship out of it. Yet, I haven't chased or kissed or made anything out of the girls around me. I'm too scared mature for that. I think.

“Cause…I’ve never…This is just…well its really new to me,” her words are so quiet. She's just as insecure about it as I am. Taking a deep breath, I pull our tangled hands to my free one and cover the back of her hand with it. “I've never brought anyone anywhere like this,” I try to explain without sounding too concerned about it, like saying I'm completely new to girls isn't a huge deal. This place is sacred to me, with Benat so close by. I'd never just bring others here. “Besides,” the smile on my face is real again, “If I remember correctly, you showed up by yourself. That's much different than being brought here. That's fate.” I'm still sweating like crazy, my palms moist with fear. It doesn't really bother me, however, even with Asha's hand sandwiched between them. I'm giving her benefit of the doubt that she won't mind.

She has to know this isn't something I do often. “Can this be our hill now...instead of just mine?” Asha asks. It's a serious question. I look back to the sky, as if wondering what Benat thinks of this all. I've always considered it his more than anyone elses, but I know he wouldn't mind sharing, so neither should I. “If that's what you want,” the answer is simple, but my actions that follow are not.

I don't know why, but leaning into her and pressing my lips to hers seems like a good idea.

[zakattack]

[bg=262629][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 0px 0px 45px 45px;][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,width:450px;] Once more the grip of Deval’s hand betrayed him in mine and I could sense I upset him with my question of other girls. I couldn’t help it, my big mouth often slipped up and got me into problems like this. Couldn’t he understand I was scared too, that I didn’t know how this was supposed to happen other than it was apparently meant to be magical. But wasn’t this magical? The way he paused and pulled my hand closer talking about fate, What kind of fate would’ve taken his brother though. His hand tightens around mine as he pulls me a bit closer my body rolling onto my side as he clasps both his hands around my hand. I don’t want to break the moment, the way it feels to be so enthralled and twisted up with him is beyond words for me as I gaze up at him still starry eyed. Deval tries to sound confidant when he tells me he’s never done this either and for some reason I believe him. Maybe it’s the way he has been holding on to my hand so tight like I might slip away or maybe it’s the slickness of the sweat of his palms around my hand. But more than maybe it’s the hope that we’re sharing this together. The more I watch him the more he smiles and the bigger mine becomes. There is something about the way he sets me ablaze and at ease at the same time that smears a grin from ear to ear. “Fate…” I mumble and nod along with him almost as if I’m in a trace. “I hope we’re more than fate…better than it.” The words still soft for fear of shattering this moment the way I did when I dropped Ma’s vase at home when she pushed things too far. It wasn’t hard to picture the splintered clay scattering across the floor the same way our hopes and dreams and all we’d talk about would if our little bubble broke. My breathing is faster and my heart is pounding so loud I swear you could hear it in the Capitol as his hands keep hold of mine and he looks up at the sky. The break in the conversation, the pause that holds a thousand wishes in its hand, seems to last an eternity. Can’t he pick up on what I want, that I want him for more than just this night, It is what I want Deval. my eyes sparkle for a second with his response before I realize what exactly he is doing. He lips are pressed against mine as I roll back flat on the grass, my free hand reaching up into his hair to pull him down with me and the world of feelings that flood through my body rack me with shivers. It’s as if the world has stopped and time is frozen as I feel his face against mine, the wetness of our sweat soaked skin, the brush of the start of hair on his upper lip, the saltiness of his lips moving against mine…there is so much going on I feel like my body is about to overload with information and sensation as I close my eyes and let myself fall into this fairytale. Moments or hours later I move back and am sure my cheeks are glowing brighter than a firework during the Victor’s Tour as I sit up and look to Deval. Don’t hate me for this I want to beg. Licking my lip and tasting him once more I whisper into the darkness “Deval will you walk me home?” The shame of how I live doesn’t even matter now as I just don’t want the night to end. Yet I know that if I’m caught out, this will never happen again. one, two, three, four, five

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