family bonds.— [sofia/vasco]

[Deleted]

I'm not sure if mama and papa were in the crowd for my bull riding, part of me hope they weren't. I was cursed with papas height, which makes it harder to get on a bull apparently. I thought it would be like trying to get on a horse, except when I ride horses they have saddles so it's actually easy to get on them. A pissed off bull? Not quite the same thing.

I knew if they were there, they wouldn't care that I didn't do very well, they would just be glad I tried. But, that didn't make what happened any less embarrassing. Initially I was planning to talk to them directly after the bull riding, but plans change. I ended up getting some lunch and changing out of my dirty clothes before going to their cabin - which wasn't a far walk considering we were next to each other.

Once there, I considered letting myself in but opted against it. Papa was still mayor, he was still a busy man. For all I knew he was having meetings with the other mayors in there. That was something actually important I didn't want to interrupt. Plus, I was hoping to have a one-on-one conversation with whatever parents answered the door - assuming either of them were there. There was stuff I needed to discuss with mama, ideas I had that papa didn't need to know about yet. He's stressed enough without me adding to it.

I ended up gently knocking on the door, loud enough they could hear it, but no so loud it was interrupt a meeting in the other room. Plus, it was difficult to knock any louder with both arms holding something wrapped up in a blanket. One of my main concerns constantly was papas health. Ever since he had that stroke, I've been worrying more and more about him. The stress of him trying to fix an entire country from a mayors desk is going to be the end to him. That or the Capitol once they deem him to be too much of a liability. I try not to think about it, but it's hard not to.

But, that's just what it means to be an Izar. Being strong when it's hard. You need to be strong not just for yourself, but for your family. And I see family as not just those that share my last name, but as my friends, as my district. Everyone I care about and a share a bond with is my family. I wouldn't be surprised if papa considered all of district Eleven to be his family. Meanwhile, Uncle Elias seems uncaring about his own daughter dying on national television. Sometimes I wonder if Elias is even an Izar. But then, the door to the cabin opened.

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

v a s c o

I lift my eyes up to the hills
This my evening song
Where my help comes from

I’d slipped out of the cabin early that morning to catch the sunrise.

Since the eighty-sixth games I’ve been spending more time trying to find quiet in the world. Walking along the fairgrounds just as the light was coming up over the hill felt like capturing a secret. I could hear my boots crunching against the gravel of the path under my feet. The taste of ash and smoke still hung in the air from the bonfires of the evening, lingering until daybreak. A few folks doddered along the camp clearing away trash and setting about the business of the day.

It was easier before the world spun up into motion for me to assemble my thoughts. Back home, I’d head north toward the crumbling ruins of the old homestead and find a seat to sip coffee from my thermos. I’d stare at the old burned out stone building and wonder how we’d gotten eighty some years from then, to where most had forgotten the tragedy but not the trauma. That we could still feel the pain of what had been yesterday, and long for what could’ve been. I’d pray, too. Sometimes for peace. Sometimes to know when to do the right thing. Always for my family.

I’d been slow to make my way to where the bull riding was taking place for a number of reasons. First, that I’d been thinking about how fitting it seemed for Sofia to want to ride a bull, even if she’d never done it a day in her life. But then, she’d always struck me with her perseverance, that no one and nothing would ever stand in her way. And no matter if she was thrown, that she’d keep on going, too. Second, that I wouldn’t have wanted to cause any sort of stir to make a big deal – no more callers for business while I was trying to cheer on my daughter. And last of all, that she’d not feign the embarrassment that her father and mother would be there.

Part of me wondered if she how often she was embarrassed, but the thought hadn’t much a chance before I was in the crowd to catch sight of the riders.

‘That’s my daughter,’ I had said when she’d mounted the bull, jostling the man next to me, only to let out a whistle and shout. In another moment it was over, and I clicked my tongue. I stayed for a few more throws before heading back to find Yani and make my way to the cabin.

We’d played a few hands of gin before Yani had decided to go watch the horseback riding. She’d appreciated the animals for their speed and the skill of those who rode them. Someday, she’d take off on the back of one of them and never come back, or so she’d joke. To where, she didn’t know. And of course, she’d offered a chance for me or Emma to come with her.

When the screen door had slammed closed to the cabin, I was left alone at the kitchen table. Emma had gone to the market or to see about some of the produce here (I had been half asleep when I’d gone out, after all), which gave me the rest of the afternoon to myself.

A knock came at the door and I stood to greet it.

“Sofia!” I started, smile beaming. “Come in, come in. How are you feeling? Do you want some tea?” I waved her inside and turned back to the interior of the little cabin, motioning to the stove with a copper kettle. I moved to stoke the embers in the hearth. “You know, I think that bull was just a little too angry this morning. But you probably know better than me!”

I moved to fill the kettle with water before hearing her answer and placed it back atop the stove.

“I just can’t believe my daughter went and rode a bull, eh? I don’t think you’d see me up there. Not that your mother would let me.” I teased before moved to take a seat at the table. I gave another wave. “Siéntate, mija. Ah, it’s good to see you.”

elegant

[Deleted]

Papa seemed happy when he opened the door, which was a relief. I wasn't interrupting anything. Though, I feel like he could be in the middle of a meeting with all of the mayors of Panem as well as the council and he'd still invite me to join them and make me a cup of tea. That's just who papa was as a person, always warm and inviting regardless of who you were. Even before he was mayor he was like this, him being like this is likely why people voted him to become mayor.

Though, as a kid I didn't understand it. I didn't understand why he spent his time trying to help the district instead of with me. I didn't understand why he was giving away money when we needed it too. And then when I was a little older I didn't understand why Yani got to grow up the way that I wished I had. Looking back now, I understand. And if I grew up the same way as Yani, I probably wouldn't be the same person I am now. I wouldn't be Sofia Izar.

I hesitated before coming in as the blankets in my arm started wriggling slightly. I almost silently cooed into the blankets, as if trying to soothe a crying baby. I didn't want to ruin the surprise for papa quite yet. After all, I know him and mama want grandchildren eventually and this is the closest thing he'd be getting for a little while longer. Or possibly ever.

"Ya voy, papa. Tea sounds nice"

He noticed me still at the door and called me over, telling me to sit down. I sat with him and he seemed more excited about the bull riding than worried, that was a relief. I tried not to mention it too much around him and mama, I didn't want them to think I was going to get hurt. And other than a bruised ego, I was fine.

"Honestly, I'm surprised mama even let me do it. Though, I was barely on the bull at all before I landed on my culo."

I was going to ask him about the Emberstatts, but just in case I wanted to tell him the good news first. Slowly and carefully I unwrapped the blankets on my lap, being careful that her little legs and pays weren't trapped in it so I didn't hurt her. I did it under the table so papa, while he could tell I was doing something, didn't see her and ruin the surprise. And as I spoke, I slowly lifted up the small puppy so he could see her.

"I know you and mama want grandchildren, well until then I have the next closest thing. I haven't decided on a name yet, but I've been calling her Chiquita."

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

v a s c o

I lift my eyes up to the hills
This my evening song
Where my help comes from

I kept my eyes on the copper kettle and waved Sofia inside. We’d set up the trappings of Eleven even if the fair was only a few days. I suppose it was to distract me from how far we were from the orchards, or how the crickets didn’t quite sing while we were here. I’d hung up a little flag along the wall opposite the stove – red, green, white – a flag that my grandfather Gero had given to me before he passed. It felt right to carry it to a new place, to keep us safe. And then there were the pressed flowers Yani had collected and stacked across the old wooden table they’d left in the cabin surrounded by folding chairs.

“Vale. I’ll make you a cup.” I said as the kettle began a low hum. I put my right palm under my chin and my elbow across the side of the chair as I listened. Emma would only have discouraged Sofia is she’d thought our daughter was in true danger. Part of me always believed her mother was braver than I was. She had always been able to stare past the present and see the future. Or, that she’d read the odds and know what was true and what couldn’t be. Whereas I liked to live from my gut. It’s how we’d got along for so long, a head and a heart, shared together so there was never too much at any one time.

“Well, we worry about you. Emmanuel doesn’t always put himself out there like you do,” I replied. I don’t say she reminds me of another curly haired young woman who fought fate and did as she pleased. I’d learned to stop saying you’re like Raquel because it wasn’t fair to her. It’d only made my heart better for a little while, until it wasn’t.

The kettle whistled and I moved to grab a cloth to reach the handle. I shifted as I stood over the two yellow coffee cups and poured the hot water over the tea leaves in the strainer. I could smell the ginger and lemon as the steam wafted upward. The blend was one I’d gotten from Marisol, and always worked to soothe my nerves. Even now the smell reminded me of when I was a kid and kept inside on a cold winter’s day. The sort of little treat I’d get when we’d sit at the table and pour over old books. Ones that were supposed to be forgotten and forbidden.

Sofia had busied herself with something under the table. It was when she started on about grandchildren that I stood still to listen.

“¡No me digas! ¿En serio? Oh Sofia…” I exclaimed, my voice rising upward as I held on her name. I leaned a little closer to the ball of fluff. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of her reddish blond fur or the wetness of her nose. “Where did you get her? She’s so beautiful… ah! Hola, hola, mi cielo, ah… she’s wonderful… can I hold her?”

elegant

[Deleted]

When papa brought up him and mama worrying about me, I felt myself slightly on edge. I could feel it coming.

"You're just like Raquel."

"Me recuerdas a tu hermana".

But, he never said it. He never compared me to her. I love my older sister, I will always love her. Being compared to her would be an honor, if I deserved it. But I didn't deserve that honor. And I doubted anyone else ever would. My sister is the bravest, strongest person I ever met. Even more so than mama. Or papa. Or even all of the other Izars who had faced death head on. Living up to being like her was impossible.

As I took a deep breath, calming myself down from my own mind, I looked around the cabin. I couldn't help but smile. I guess we all had the same train of thoughts, make the cabins feel like home. I had brought beauty supplies and cooking ingredient and spices and blankets and anything else I could ever want. Maybe that says something about Izars. That we can make anywhere home as long as we have each other.

After I had shown Chiquita, I wasn't sure how he was going to react. I was an adult, him and mama were understanding about that. But, they still worried about me. Would he think I was in over my head with a puppy? Did he think maybe I should have waited until I was a little older? And then, he smiled and asked to hold her. Once again, my heart felt relieved. I really need to stop underestimating this man.

"¡Por supuesto, ella es tu nieta!"

I handed over Chiquita, being careful with her as she was still young. Now was the time to bring up Lorenzo. After all, I did get her from Lorenzo. And papa was holding a puppy, I doubt he'd be in a better mood than he was right now. Who doesn't like puppies and tea? Part of me considered not telling him about Lorenzo at all. But considering who Mace was and who Saffron was - or in Saffrons case who she killed - I felt it only right to tell him.

"Papa, you know the Emberstatts right? I actually got her from Lorenzo Emberstatt, Mace and Saffron's son. Have you ever met him? Do you like him? Do you like the family?"

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

v a s c o

I lift my eyes up to the hills
This my evening song
Where my help comes from

I scooped up the pup between my arms and pressed my face into her fur. She smelled of dust and the summer’s sun, as all good dogs do (as every dog does). She wiggled in my grip and I couldn’t help but laugh. There’s something precious about such a little life in your hands, especially one that would be true to you until the end of her days. I could still remember how we all used to chase Gregor, an orange pup, all around Bekar’s place. The world felt a little less heavy when sitting next to a dog; you’d never have to walk alone, so long as you were willing to open your heart to them.

“Oh, I love her Sofia. You’ll have to bring her around for Yani. I’d been meaning to get her a dog, too.” I ran a hand along the scruff of the pup’s neck and slowly along her back. I smiled, “Don’t go spoiling it, though. It’s a surprise for the holidays.” It’d been a long time coming, if only I was so busy at the town hall and Emma serving as a magistrate, we didn’t think we’d have time to help raise a dog. But now Yani was twelve, and she wasn’t quite the little girl she used to be. She was growing up much like Sofia had. Stronger and more independent every day.

I knelt to let Chiquita back on the hardwood floor. She skittered about, slipping this way and that. I watched her circle while Sofia spoke.

Mention of the Emberstatts had me imagine a lifetime ago, when I still wore my motorcycle jacket and slicked back my hair with enough pomade to keep it tight. Where I’d spend afternoons racing around the farms in a hunk of junk metal loud enough to be heard three miles over, kicking up dust on my bike, flying against the wind. I spent a lot of time wishing that I could fly, grinding away whatever ache from the fields or misery from my cousin’s deaths into gravel underneath the tires. The world could disappear to dust behind me if all I ever did was keep racing forward.

The bike eventually died. We had one kid and then soon enough, three – and somehow the urge to fly fell away to gravity. I could give that to them, lifting them up to the air, spinning around or pointing to the sky and telling them the magic of the stars. We still flew, still dreamed.

“I met Saffron once, a few years ago. We talked about how nervous we got around crowds of people sometimes. She seemed lovely, although a bit lonely. But I suppose that seems most of them are, after what they’ve been through.” I said, forcing a smile. She and Aranica had been sitting together and spilled their drinks at the peacekeeper ball. I’d been struck how much older she’d become, all the years passing since the sixty-fifth, since Iago.

Maybe in the worst moments, when my brothers and I would get too drunk and too angry – because our younger selves seemed to make a sport of it – we’d talk about what we’d say to the victors if we ever got a chance. And at the time it’d felt so good to burn with all that fire and rage, to shame them for what they’d done to our blood.

But those nights in the fields drinking moonshine extinguished in a summer’s heat. You fill the space in your heart with little things, of birthdays and sunsets, of story times and swimming holes, until all that anger has been swept away. And you stand in front of your family, your incredible wife and all of your children, your nieces and nephews, and you think how lucky you must be, in spite of what grief you’ve carried. For as much grief as I’d carried, it could not move me to hate someone, not someone who’d shouldered so much herself.

“If Lorenzo is anything like his mother, then I would say that he’s destined to be good people.” I said with a smile. “Have you been spending time with them then? I had been meaning to meet with Kieran but – ah, I’m tired of business for now.”

elegant

[Deleted]

When Papa brought up Yani getting a puppy as well, I was happy for her. I haven't had Chiquita long, but already I felt connected to her. And she seemed attached to me. Yani must have been a little lonely, huh? All of her siblings being so much older than her. After Raquel died, I felt lonely with Emmanuel standing right there next to me. Yani? She had to deal with the struggles of adolescents without any siblings to fall back on. Sure she has Mama and Papa, but there's certain things about sibling connections that she just can't get with those two.

I made a note to myself with that, I needed to give her a little responsibility with Chiquita to help prepare her. And until then, I'd let her visit Chiquita whenever she wanted. Maybe tonight I'd ask her if she wanted to help brush her. Or put a little food in her bowl. That way when she gets her own puppy, she can really impress Mama and Papa. And make the bond between her and the puppy that much stronger. Make her feel that much less alone.

"My lips are sealed, Papa."

Watching Chiquita skitter about on the floor warmed my heart. From the moment Lorenzo introduced her to me, I knew she was supposed to be my dog. She was the smallest, the runt of the litter. In some ways, I felt like that. After all, for much of my life I was the youngest. And Raquel? Raquel made me feel like I had these impossible standards to meet. All while I drowned in my grief. Chiquita may not be the fiercest dog or the biggest or the toughest, but I think she was exactly what I needed.

But looking at her reminded me of why I was here, why I was nervous talking to the most understanding father a girl could wish for. Lorenzo Emberstatt. I remembered her gently chewing on her fingers as we spoke at the bonfire before I got here. I thought about Mateo's comments about Lorenzo when he offered to talk to me at the bonfire. And I thought about Saffron. About Iago. About a series of events that had happened long before I was born. About a cousin I never got the chance to meet.

I wondered what Iago was like. And if he was watching me right now, listening, judging. If he was upset that his own blood would even consider a date with the son of the one who killed him. Or if he was happy his family could heal and move past that. Considering the fact he was an Izar, I'd be willing to bet money on the second option.

And Papa, he spoke the truth - or at least his truth. He had forgiven Saffron for the murder of his cousin. That wasn't a surprise, though it was a weight off of my chest. Papa wasn't the type to hold a grudge. He was the type to forgive, even if he never forgot. I wondered if he forgave Raquel's killer. I know I might never have enough room in my heart for that. But Papa is a better person than I'll ever be.

"Just Lorenzo, at least for now. I imagine Mace and Saffron are busy chasing around their youngest daughter. I hear she's about the same age as Yani, funnily enough. I think her name was Quinn. As for Kieran, I'm sure he has more important things to do than to talk to me, Papa. After all, look at everything you've always had to do. For the family and for the district."

I was stalling with pleasantries. I knew it and I was sure Papa was too. I didn't tell him everytime I made a new friend. Hell, I didn't even tell him about every date I've gone on. Even if he knows the person or their family, considering Papa knows just about everyone in Eleven. I just had to be a big girl and suck it up. I had to tell him, I had to jump on the bull.

"Lorenzo asked to talk to me at the bonfire, just before I stopped by here actually. At the bonfire, we had a pretty good conversation. And he asked me on a date."

I let that last sentence sit in dead air for a moment before interjecting, feeling my nerves begin to build up in the silence.

"Nothing serious, just a picnic. I'm planning to make some traditional Izar family recipes - though they might be a bit spicy for Lorenzo. I just wanted to make sure there wasn't any bad blood between you and Saffron. Any unresolved feelings about Iago. The date really doesn't mean anything, so if you still have any resentment, no matter how little, buried deep down, please tell me."

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

v a s c o

I lift my eyes up to the hills
This my evening song
Where my help comes from

Iknelt closer to the ground to offer a hand to Chiquita. She wiggled her black nose close to my palm before offering a set of licks. I let out a laugh as I scratched down along her ears and neck. She threw out one of her legs and shimmied as though I’d hypnotized the back of her body to wiggle back and forth.

What had I been waiting for with Yani getting a puppy of her own? I looked back at Sofia. It hadn’t been that she’d been too young. But more a matter that the more I let her do so much on her own meant that she’d be growing up. One of these days I was liable to turn around and see a young woman before me, talking about the boy she’d met at a fair.

We hadn’t had it easy when Sofia had been younger. There hadn’t been the comfort of a mayor’s salary to draw upon, for one. And I hadn’t bothered to take hold of all the little moments, the ones where we could sit in quiet and know one another. There’d been Raquel arguing about how the boys at school were or Emmanuel’s moping, my long hours out in the fields and Bakar’s nonsense of how hard he treated his own boys. Too much of my time had been used to spend my heart on what hadn’t mattered. I couldn’t blame grief for all of that, and I wouldn’t try.

It’s that I never gave up on them, just as sure as Sofia was sitting in front of me.

Maybe we didn’t need much more than a copper pot of tea and a little cabin. I could’ve been happy without becoming mayor, I was sure of it. I hoped that Kieran and the rest took heart – that no matter what they could accomplish, nothing would be as precious as their family and friends. That reminded me – I needed to give Pierre a call.

“If I get a moment, I’ll see about Kieran. He must be in good company to organize all of this. And Saffron – I should let her know it’s better not to chase. Yani’s taught me well enough I’m having trouble keeping up!” I laughed. A thaw seemed to have come to the districts. I couldn’t think of a time when I’d felt closer to ten. As different as our families might’ve been, some things were universal (like teenagers avoiding their parents or the worry that followed). If anything, I’d draft a note to the Emberstatts to remind them they were always welcome by me if I didn’t get the chance to tell them.

I held the cup of tea in my hands and took as sip as Sofia spoke. I held the tea at the back of my throat to feel the heat when she mentioned the date.

“Oooh.” I nodded along with a smile. She had to have been nervous about telling me, the pause giving enough time for the steam to have stopped idling at the edge of my cup.

Nothing serious.

I seemed to remember a boy saying something similar to a young woman’s family when they’d thrown him off their front porch. Or the picnics he’d snuck in the fields when he’d walked miles just to spend ten minutes to see a girl. How it’d been a year on and he’d given her a silver ring, the most precious thing he’d owned, a gift that’d taken every last penny he’d had along with enough tesserae for his last reaping he’d thought his name would be in the bowl.

If Sofia was anything like me, she’d trust her heart to set her right. And she’d know, too, what was meant to be. Or at least, she’d get that part from Emma, the judgement to know whether she’d found the one she deserved.

“If he’s anything like the rest of ten, I’d make something with beef and lots of cheese. Less flavor and more salt,” I said. I set the teacup down beside me and leaned forward in my chair.

“Mi cielito, I promise you. When I saw Saffron the only thing I could think was how much I wished she could have what we had – what anyone has, a life that wasn’t… well, half in their world and ours.” I whispered. “Life’s too short for us to hate one another. I’d rather forgive and let them show me who they are now. It’s better that way, isn’t it?”

I gave a nudge with my knee against hers.

“Of course, maybe then I’ll get to meet this Lorenzo. He was the skinny little blond thing right?” I tried thinking back to the eightieth. God – had it really been almost ten years?

elegant

[Deleted]

And once again, Papa proved me right. He was a far better person than I. For I would never forgive Titus Seraphim, even if he was dead and gone. I'd never forgive his family. I doubted I even trusted Nine as a whole. I know, I know. One person cannot represent an entire district. That would be like Uncle Elias representing all of Eleven. And I know he was just doing what Raquel was doing, trying like Hell to get home. Maybe I was a hypocrite. Maybe I didn't care if I was one.

How old was the boy who killed her? I wasn't sure. He seemed old. Maybe because I was twelve. Maybe because in my mind, Raquel seemed so strong. So invincible. She's still strong, still brave. Even now, picturing his face and his god forsaken bat he seems older than me. For a moment I question if I'm twenty-two or twelve again. For a moment, I feel hopeful that Raquel might come home. And then that moment ends, and I swallow down the pain like I've done countless times before.

I have endless questions. And Papa? He seems like an endless fountain of knowledge before me. Am I a bad person if I can't forgive? What was Iago like? Would he have forgiven Saffron? Would he have forgiven me? But, I don't ask any. Right now, right now is a good moment between Papa and I. The type of moment I rarely got to relish in growing up. The type of moment that warmed my soul and reminded me that Raquel did come home. That Raquel never left home, she stayed in our hearts the whole time and won't leave.

Whenever I thought of Papa and Yani, and how close they are, it makes me think. When I was younger, it made me jealous. How close they are, and how much time they get to spend together. I never had the chance to have that. I never had the chance to have a lot of things she had. And sometimes, I wonder what I'd be like if I grew up the same way as her. But now that I'm older? My mind takes a different route.

Sometimes it makes me wonder what it might be like to have children of my own. For Papa and Mama to finally have those grandchildren they've been asking for. Someone to take care of and nurture and love. The ability to watch someone grow into their own person, with help from me of course. For another little Izar to run around during family gatherings. But, I know I need more time. And so do my parents. Maybe someday, maybe if the world ever gets a little safer. Or even if it feels safer.

And I'd want to be in good terms with whoever the other parent would be as well. I'd want it to be more than just a hookup or a casual thing. I'd want it to be someone I could trust, someone I could share my insecurities and fears with. Someone more than a boy I met at the fair. Not to say I don't think Lorenzo is a nice guy. He is. But do I trust him? Do I trust anyone? I'm scared to answer either of those questions.

Papa started off with the easy part of my ramblings, the food. Food was nice, it was comforting. This tea that we shared warmed us from our stomachs to our hearts. Food had always been something humans could bond over. And, it was a way to share cultures. To share traditions. Even when your culture became a crime according to the "government" you had been forced to live under. The same government that slaughtered so many of your family in their sick game.

I let out a small chuckle when he told me to hold back on spices, "Ah but you see Papa, the whole point is the flavor. The spices. Or more specifically, the spiciness. How am I supposed to date a boy who can't handle a few peppers?"

I didn't expect him to handle the spicy food well. But boy did I expect it to be funny. And it was a test. I wanted to see if however much food he initally put on his plate he would finish. If, on our first date, he'd struggle through the spice to finish it. Or if he'd give up. I wanted to write letters to him after this had ended. But, if he gave up when life got a little spicy, was he worth it? Life for an Izar was hard, and if I wanted to even consider keeping him around passed the first date, he'd have to be prepared for that.

I stayed silent and drank my tea when he mentioned forgiveness. I'd have to talk to him about that later. Or more specifically, how he forgave. How do you forgive someone who can't change? How do you forgive someone who murdered the most beautiful person you had ever known? How do you forgive someone like Titus Seraphim? I doubted I'd ever be able to understand it, but I wanted to try. I wanted to forgive, but my heart wouldn't allow it.

When Papa nudged my knee, I knew what was coming. A little bit of light teasing. Something to lighten the mood after the mention of Iago, something I needed. And that was the thing about him. Maybe he wasn't always the dad that I've wanted, especially when I was younger. But he's always been the dad that I've needed. Him and Mama had always been there for me when I really truly needed them. And that's what was important, wasn't it? They weren't always there when it was convenient, but they showed up when it was hard.

"Well, he promised he'd visit District Eleven one day. If he's a man of his word you can meet him then. If he's not a man of his word, he's not worth the energy of meeting."

I thought about the idea of Lorenzo in Eleven. I wondered what we would do there. I'd want to give him the grand tour, obviously. Somewhere between my heart and my brain part of me wondered if we would be there as friends or something else. My brain said friends. But my heart? My heart was a sucker for a boy with pretty eyes. My heart wanted to see how long distance worked, my heart wanted to write him letters the moment we got home. My brain wanted to focus on the shop and on Chiquita. And they were at war.

"I think you're think of him, but he has brown hair, though it might have been lighter when he was young. I'm not actually sure, all I really remember was he was twiggy and that was before Mace and Saffron adopted him."

Actually, Lorenzo was still twiggy. He had some muscle, sure. But he was still twiggy. If you put a thick layer of park over a twig it doesn't change the fact that the twig is still in fact a twig. But, he was a cute twig. A kind twig. A twig that made me laugh and smile. A twig with eyes I could stare into for hours and look for constellations in as though they're the sky.

"I think you'd like him, though... do you have any questions about him? I'm free for answers."