Chapter Text
"5 days to go, Johanna!"
Johanna Mason could already see the school gate in the distance. If she kept up her pace, she would only have to ignore the cruel, familiar voice for a minute or so. She gritted her teeth and continued walking as if she was completely unaware of the taunting that had started up behind her.
"Are you scared they're gonna call your name?" The same voice continued.
Johanna was still facing away from the bullies, so she let her eyes roll at the ridiculous question. Of course she was scared that her name would be called. Everyone was scared! That was practically the whole point of the reaping.
"Are you scared you're gonna cry, when they call your name?"
Johanna quickened her pace. Logically, she knew her name almost certainly wouldn't be called. It was only her second reaping, after all; only twelve of the thousands of slips of paper in the bowl would be marked with the name Johanna Mason. Some of the high schoolers' names were entered 50 times or more. They were the ones who really needed to be worried.
"Are you scared that it'll make your momma cry?"
That one was a little harder to ignore. Johanna pressed her lips together, put her head down and quickened her pace again. Her name wouldn't be chosen. Her mother wouldn't have anything to cry about.
To distract herself, Johanna busied her mind trying to understand why these people were acting as though fear of the reaping was something to be ashamed of. Every child and parent in Panem were scared of the reaping. If anything, it would be weirder not to be scared. Bullies often didn't make sense, she supposed.
"Oh, she is scared! Look at her face!"
The three bullies must have run a few paces to catch up with her. Surrounding her, and practically jogging to keep up with her rushed pace, they began to laugh.
Johanna could feel an indignant rage bubbling its way up inside her. She channelled the energy into speeding up even further, hoping to get through the school gate as soon as possible. Some days, a teacher would stand near the gate to greet students. If there was one there today, she would be safe soon.
"Are you scared that your little brothers will have to watch you die?"
A painful image of her upset brothers flashed, unwelcome into Johanna's mind. She couldn't help it - and it was the last straw.
Johanna stopped abruptly, and turned to the leader of the small gang of bullies.
"Yes, Olivia, I worry about my brothers," Johanna snapped. "And I worry about my mom, and my dad, too. Because that's what families do! Or - at least they do when they love each other. I guess you wouldn't know much about that."
It wasn't quite the first time Johanna had retaliated to Olivia's bullying. In the past month or so, Johanna had begun hovering around some kind of breaking point. However, it was the first time she'd ever dared to make such a personal attack. A moment of tense silence dawned over all four children while Johanna's words sank in.
Then, the silence was broken by a guttural growl. Olivia's worn out shoes scraped against the dusty path as she lunged towards Johanna. Her hands met Johanna's shoulders, and shoved her hard and fast against the heavy school fence.
The breath was instantly knocked out of Johanna's lungs, and her head cracked against the thick wood. Either from the adrenaline of delivering a cutting retort to her bully, or the impact of her skull against the fence, Johanna felt slightly dizzy. She probably would have fallen over, if not for the hand that had slipped around her neck, keeping her pinned against the fence.
"Say that again!" Olivia challenged, shouting in Johanna's face and squeezing her neck.
To Johanna's surprise, she realised she wanted to. It had felt so good to finally hurt Olivia, that the urge to do it again was burning hot within her. She wasn't stupid enough to do it, though - not with Olivia's hand squeezing her neck.
She was relatively confident that it would be physically impossible to speak at the moment, anyway. Instead, she silently, defiantly glared up at the bully.
"I will crush your fucking thro-"
Olivia wasn't able to complete her threat.
In the same instant that her voice was cut off, Olivia's hand quickly left Johanna's throat.
Johanna quickly gasped in a ragged, pained breath, trying her best to prepare herself for the next assault.
But it didn't come.
Over the sound of the air wheezing through her compressed windpipe, Johanna could hear a yelp. It was seamlessly followed by a soft thud. Through her dizziness and the tears in her eyes, it took Johanna a second to realise both sounds had been made by Olivia.
Relief and intrigue began to flow through Johanna as she brought a hand to her injured neck to massage it. She took another, easier breath, and looked over at Olivia, sprawled on the dirt floor. Even through her watery eyes, Johanna could see the shocked, scared expression on Olivia's face. It made her feel happy, in an unusually cruel kind of way.
An unfamiliar girl loomed over Olivia. She must be the reason for Olivia's shock, Johanna reasoned.
"You leave her the fuck alone, or you'll be the one getting your throat crushed."
The girl's voice was quiet and low. Somehow, the calmness of it was far scarier than shouting.
After a pause to assess whether the unfamiliar girl was finished, the two other bullies hurried forward to help Olivia scrabble to her feet.
Johanna watched them, revelling in their fear for a change. The unfamiliar girl wasn't watching them, though.
"Are you okay?" she asked Johanna, her voice unrecognisably soft and high compared to the near-growl she had used to threaten Olivia.
Johanna was still massaging her neck, and didn't want to risk talking yet. She quickly glanced at the girl and nodded, but kept most of her attention on her bullies. Olivia was on her feet, and Johanna needed to make sure she wasn't about to launch another assault. She didn't even pause to dust herself off, though - Olivia hurried towards the school gate with her friends in tow, barely looking back.
Satisfied that Olivia was finished for now, Johanna finally looked at the unfamiliar girl properly.
She was five or six inches taller than Johanna, and had strong muscles peeking out from her shirt sleeves and filling out her pants. Johanna would have thought the girl was a high schooler, if not for the fact she was standing thirty feet from the entrance to the middle school, just minutes before the first bell was due to ring.
"Here," the girl took a smooth, shiny bottle from her school bag, unscrewed the lid, and held it out to Johanna.
Johanna stared at it in wonder. No repairs, no dents - not even a scratch. No one in their school ever owned anything this new. Johanna was careful as she accepted it, scared of dropping it.
"Thanks," she croaked out, and then took a sip of the water.
It soothed her throat almost instantly.
Having lived her whole life in Weston - which was one of the poorer regions within a poor district - Johanna knew to be sparing with food and water. But the cool liquid helped the pain in her throat so much that she couldn't resist swallowing another few mouthfuls before handing the bottle back.
The girl gave Johanna a warm smile as she retrieved her bottle and began to replace the lid. She didn't seem to mind at all that Johanna had drained almost a quarter of the water it held.
"So," the girl began.
Within the single, inquisitive syllable, Johanna could hear the girl's confidence, kindness and intelligence.
Aside from a handful of career tributes in compulsory broadcasting of the Hunger Games, Johanna had never heard any children sound like this before. It was almost mesmerising.
"What was that about?" the girl finished the question.
Now that the urgency of the situation was wearing off, Johanna noticed the girl's accent.
Some of her words were spoken in the classic Weston accent, but others were a little different - almost like the capitol. Johanna knew a little about accents from TV - most presenters had the capitol accent, and the Hunger Games interviews displayed all the different district accents. Johanna hadn't seen enough of the Hunger Games to know the different district accents yet, though. Plus, even within district seven, accents had small differences.
Based on her limited knowledge, and the few words she'd heard the girl say, Johanna speculated that the girl's accent could be from the central region of district seven - the wealthiest part.
If that was right, what did it mean? Johanna hadn't ever met anyone from outside Weston before, so she had no idea.
Instead of speculating further, Johanna quickly decided not to be intimidated by the girl's unusual accent and commanding presence. She answered the girl's question as simply and casually as she could.
"She doesn't like me." Johanna's voice was still a little croaky, but speaking didn't hurt much.
To Johanna's surprise, the girl laughed at her. It wasn't a cruel laugh. If anything, it was kind.
"Yeah, I could see that!" she said, through her laughter, "But why?"
Johanna hesitated.
The question had plagued her for over a year. One day, they were acquaintances who shared one or two classes. The next day, Olivia had started calling Johanna names. Over a period of weeks, it had escalated to insults, stealing and, eventually, violence. Johanna hadn't yet been able to figure out why it had started.
Over the past year, Johanna had been asked multiple times why Olivia had burned her hair, or damaged her coat, or thrown her school bag into a tree. Whenever Johanna answered that she didn't know, she had been met with one of three frustrating responses: disbelief, mockery, or pity.
Somehow, deep in her bones, Johanna instinctively knew she didn't want this girl to mock her or pity her. She didn't know why, but she knew it would hurt more than usual, coming from her. She considered making up an answer that would satisfy the question. But she felt an unexpected compulsion to be honest, too - despite the risk.
"I don't know," Johanna shrugged, earnestly.
She steeled herself, waiting for the suspicion, or teasing or patronising sympathy that would sting more than ever.
But the only sound from the girl's lips was a quiet, contemplative hum. When Johanna looked into her eyes, the girl seemed to be concentrating, as if attempting to solve a puzzle. Johanna was relieved to realise that the girl believed her. She wasn't going to pity or ridicule her, either. And at that, Johanna was hit with the sudden, clear understanding that she desperately wanted to be friends with this girl.
The first step towards becoming friends was to keep the conversation going - ideally on a different topic. So, Johanna said the first thing that came into her head.
"Are you the new kid?" she asked.
For half a second, the girl seemed caught off guard by Johanna's question. Johanna immediately began to worry that her change of topic had been too abrupt. But the girl recovered quickly, before Johanna's concern managed to spiral too far.
"Yes," the girl nodded, holding out her hand for a proper introduction, "I'm Linden. It's nice to meet you."
The idea of shaking hands with a classmate felt too adult, too archaic, too formal. But something about Linden's demeanour compelled Johanna to go along with it. Johanna slid her small, clammy hand into Linden's strong, cool palm, and she found that she enjoyed it, despite its strangeness.
"I'm Johanna," She replied, mimicking Linden's confident tone. "It's nice to meet you, too. And thanks for… uh… "
Johanna trailed off, and dropped Linden's hand. She wasn't sure exactly how to end her sentence, so she gestured towards the fence where Olivia had pinned her and repeated, "Thanks."
"Don't worry about it," Linden replied, shrugging Johanna's thanks off with another winning smile. "Three on one is hardly fair - it was only right to even it up a bit."
Johanna found Linden's logic comforting. She preferred thinking that Linden hadn't helped her out of pity, but rather out of some kind of sense of moral duty. It was much easier to accept.
"If they give you any more trouble, let me know," Linden continued.
The kind, genuine offer made Johanna smile as she massaged her neck again. The smile was quickly tinged with sadness, though, as Johanna thought of just how much more trouble Olivia was likely to cause.