Chapter Text
Maysilee’s sitting in her childhood bedroom, questioning why she even came home at the moment.
She absolutely did not want to be here right now. It’s a different type of hot in Kentucky, a heat she forgot how to handle.
Her brain is scrambled, her back is sore, she feels all sticky and sweaty, and she’s rebraided the same necklace about four times now.
To say she’s frustrated is an understatement.
The necklace was for Haymitch’s birthday. On his special day, he’s invited a few close friends over. It was never anything major with him.
Actually, the last time she saw Haymitch in person, they were arguing. A petty argument, as always, that really meant nothing in the long run. That’s besides the point—their argument about Fight Club has absolutely nothing to do with why her brain was so messed up.
The reasoning was Wyatt. It was always him.
She knew her only ex-boyfriend and Haymitch had grown close within the past years—which was totally unfair! Maysilee should’ve won Haymitch in the break up, she was friends with him first! Of course, she had no reasoning to actually be angry about it. Haymitch spoke to her, asked if she was okay with it, and she assured him she was fine with it, despite grinding her teeth to nubs whenever he was brought up. Haymitch didn’t even know the half of it.
Her light eyes rolled at the thought of it, attempting to narrow her focus back on the necklace.
But what if Wyatt showed up to the hangout with another girl? She’d never live it down. Should she bring another boy just in case? Blair is a no, they’ve argued too much for anyone to believe they have a healthy relationship. Maybe one of the Chance boys? Woodbine was around her age, and she was pretty sure he’s still in Kentucky. Definitely not. Her nose scrunched at the thought, Woodbine’s probably had three girlfriends in the past week.
Maybe it’s just too unrealistic for her to bring someone else. Sure, she’s had crushes on people, but she just about never had the desire to actually date anyone other than Wyatt… and that relationship was deader than dead.
“Are you almost ready?” Merrilee asks, standing in the doorway, giving a small, polite knock.
Maysilee huffs, tying off the necklace, “Yep… I don’t have a gift bag to put this in,” she says, the look of disgust still evident on her features. That was one of the things she was awful at. Hiding the emotions on her face.
Merrilee rummages through the closet, pulling out an old Christmas gift bag. It was red and sparkly with a Santa on it, but it’ll do. When handing it to her twin, she raises a brow, “Why’re you making that face…?”
“I don’t know,” Maysilee groans, moving to her old vanity to put some barrette clips to adorn her blonde hair. “Do you think I should bring a date?”
“A date?” Merrilee’s eyebrow is still raised in complete confusion. “It’s Haymitch’s backyard, why the hell would you need a date? Is this about Wyatt?”
She stares at Merrilee through the mirror, “Oh my god, no, shut up,” she grumbles, slipping on some shoes before storming out.
Merrilee speed walks after her, catching up on the sidewalk, “It’ll be fine!” she assures. “I’d be surprised if Wyatt even opens his mouth! You know how quiet he is.” She’s trying to keep it lighthearded, but it’s really no use.
Maysilee ignored her sister, marching all the way to Haymitch’s place, walking to the backyard with her arms crossed over her chest. She scanned the place and instantly spotted Wyatt, stopping short in her tracks causing Merrilee to almost bump into her… and then Maysilee snorts. It’s definitely a condescending sound.
Wyatt’s outfit was horrible.
She knew his fashion sense struggled without her, but this was a new low. A long-sleeve, bright green Ninja Turtle shirt, that was definitely two sizes too big on him, and a pair of horrific jean shorts that went down to his knees.
Merrilee, catching exactly what her twin is snorting at, tries to justify his outfit, “You know how easily he burns in the sun, the UV’s like a million today.”
Before Maysilee can give a pissed off retort, Haymitch saunters over, taking the Christmas gift bag.
“Didn’t have time to get you anything real,” Maysilee explains, digging into her pocket, “Just take this with it, I guess.”
Both twins hand him a ten dollar bill. They were scarily in sync at times.
“Aw. Thanks,” Haymitch says, snatching up the money. “I like the gift bag. It’s festive.”
Haymitch slides his sunglasses onto his face and begins rambling on about god knows what. Luckily, Merrilee paid attention for her while Maysilee zoned in on Wyatt. She felt immense relief seeing him here alone. He was deep in the pretzel bowl, surprisingly not staring anyone down yet.
Wyatt had always had a staring problem. He was a bit of an observer. Maysilee remembers him not so subtly eyeing her when they were kids, on the playground, in the school hallways, on the sidewalk, really anywhere. She felt special for about a week before she realized he really stared at everyone. He constantly had a faraway look on his face while he fidgeted with something in his hands. Usually a coin, sometimes a loose thread on his shirt—that one made Maysilee cringe. He never knew when to stop, continuing to unravel the string instead of just ripping it off.
Maysilee cuts Haymitch off from whatever he was saying, “Where are the drinks? Inside?”
Haymitch not so subtly flickers his eyes from her to Wyatt before answering, “Uh… Yeah. Blair made jello shots, I think.”
Maysilee mutters out a small, “Thanks,” before heading inside, arms still crossed over her green camisole top.
The pit in her stomach is a feeling she’s grown used to at even just the mention of Wyatt. Him in theory was already bad enough, but seeing him in person made her feel like she could puke at any moment. She was already overwhelmed. Why did she ever give Haymitch the blessing to be friends with Wyatt? Nevermind, that was definitely too controlling. She had a bit of an issue with being bossy.
As she swallows her jello shot, Asterid enters the kitchen, pulling her into a small side hug before giving her a gentle smile, “Mer said you were grumpy.”
“I’m fine,” Maysilee huffs, face scrunched up from how strong the shots were. She should’ve expected that from Blair.
“Is it Wyatt? I’m sure Wyatt doesn’t have a problem leaving, you know he’d do anything you asked—“
Maysilee cuts that sentence off, “You don’t even know him,” she scoffs. “I don’t mean to be mean. Things just ended wrong, and now it’s awkward. I feel gross, maybe I should just say I’m sick and leave.”
“Just hang out with Burdock and me,” Asterid shrugs. “If you need to get drunk, Burdock brought a ton of his own drinks. Like, a backpack full. Said Haymitch is lame and wouldn’t have any good stuff—think that’s just ‘cause Burdock likes the fruity drinks…”
Maysilee agrees, not having any smarter suggestions of her own. Lightly grabbing her wrist, Asterid guides Maysilee back outside
Burdock gives a small greeting to Maysilee. It wasn’t awkward or hostile, they just never really talked much, especially with Maysilee being away at college.
As Asterid digs into Burdock’s bag, Maysilee’s eyes find their way back to Wyatt. Merrilee, Blair, Haymitch, and Lenore Dove were all talking amongst themselves, Maysilee was with Asterid and Burdock, and Wyatt stood there alone. A dark sense of guilt pooled deep in her stomach, crawling up her throat. He looked completely alone. He was completely alone. Maybe she was overreacting, being all sensitive and emotional over nothing. Maybe Wyatt really didn’t mind keeping to himself—she knew that could definitely be the case, but she still couldn’t swallow down the remorse she felt.
Maysilee averted her eyes back to the grass, watching Asterid place all Burdock’s drink options down.
“Take whatever, just pace yourself,” Asterid says softly.
୨୧
Maybe an hour or two passed, Maysilee wasn’t sure, but she had miserably failed to pace herself. It’s not like she really even planned to in the first place, but she still failed, nonetheless.
She’d been sitting on the bathroom floor for a good ten minutes, puking her brains out. She hates throwing up, and can’t even get her vision stable enough to make it to the sink to get some water.
To make matters worse, Wyatt quietly enters. The door was unlocked, and Wyatt truly hadn’t known anyone was in here. He innocently just had to pee.
For the first few moments, Maysilee’s blissfully unaware of Wyatt’s presence. She knows someone’s there, she just can’t pull her head away from the toilet long enough to see who it is.
“Leave,” she whines, frustration and misery evident in her voice.
“Um. Are you okay?” Wyatt asks, voice quiet and sweet. It makes it terribly hard to hate him.
Maysilee sends him a quick glare before squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment, “Yes. Leave.”
Wyatt stands there, evidently not leaving, rocking on his heels, rolling his coin over his knuckles, “…Do you want water, or-“
He’s cut off by another round of her vomiting. Wyatt rapidly blinks, gently patting her back. “There there,” he mumbles awkwardly, just copying what he’s seen on TV. When she finishes her vomit spell, Wyatt poorly decides it’s a good idea to attempt to make conversation, “…So are you home all summer?”
“Please stop talking,” Maysilee slurs desperately as she tries focusing on not puking again. “Can you just go get my sister?”
Despite always having a blank expression on his face, Maysilee’s learned to read his small tells, and right now, with the way he’s subtly chewing on his cheek, she can tell he’s trying to hide his disappointment. He nods anyway, retracting his hand and respecting her wishes.
She winces, drunk mind unable to stop itself from thinking of when she had her first real interaction with her boy;
୨୧
“His name is Wyatt?” Maysilee asks as Asterid practices a fishtail braid on one side of Maysilee’s head. “The Callow boy? Him?”
“Yes, him! Burdock said his ma and Wyatt’s ma are friends, or somethin’. Mrs. Everdeen says he’s a sweet boy,” Asterid explains. “Just come over so he doesn’t feel lonely. Don’t want the poor boy feeling like a third-wheel.”
A crease forms between Maysilee’s brows as she frowns, “Yeah, but y’all wouldn’t make anyone feel like a third-wheel.”
Asterid ties off one of the braids, “I know, not on purpose. Just come. Please, Mays? Mer said she’s working tonight—I already asked her ‘cause I knew you wouldn’t want to.”
Maysilee reluctantly agrees, “I guess I can go. Right now…?”
It’s not like Maysilee had anything else planned, she just really valued her nap time.
Asterid nods despite Maysilee being unable to see her from their positions, “Yeah, after I’m done braiding the other side we’ll go. It’ll only be like two hours.”
Soon enough, Maysilee found herself on Burdock’s small couch, pressed between Asterid and Wyatt.
The boy was quietier than she originally anticipated. Sure, she’d seen him at school, and she’d never exactly heard him speak there, but she also never had any classes with him. He really was silent.
Even Asterid, who had an incredible ability to make friends, hadn’t gotten him to talk. She respected his quiet nature and left it alone, which only made it more awkward for Maysilee. Why couldn’t Asterid just use that sweet girl charm Maysilee wishes she had?
Her bored gaze becomes locked on his coin. Wyatt effortlessly rolled it on his fingers in an almost hypnotizing way. Aside from the coin, she was surprised to see how clean his finger nails were. What an odd thing for a teenage boy to have. Odd, but definitely welcome.
“How do you do that?” she questions, pointing a manicured finger at the coin movements, fascinated by how smooth he did it.
Wyatt’s eyebrows slightly raise, as if he was shocked she’s actually talking to him, “My coin?”
Maysilee nods in confirmation and he spends the next few minutes trying to teach her. She just couldn’t get it. Her fingers were too short.
He took her hand, attempting to guide her fingers in the correct position. She’s long given up on achieving the knuckle rolling, knowing she’s not going to get it, but she pretends to try just a bit longer, just to savor the feeling of his hand on hers.
It made her feel warm and fuzzy and dizzy, all things she hasn’t felt before—
୨୧
Her thoughts are derailed by Merrilee entering the bathroom.
“Oh god, Maysilee,” Merrilee groans, attempting to haul Maysilee up.
Asterid quickly approaches behind, aiding Merrilee in dragging her sister out of the bathroom, “C’mon, hunny,” Asterid whispers. “Let’s get you home.”
୨୧
The walk home felt like forever. Asterid and Merrilee got Maysilee into her bed, and helped her into some comfier clothes before providing her with water and plain bread.
“I’m going back to Haymitch’s, Burdock’ll be looking for me,” Asterid says, giving a quick kiss to Maysilee’s forehead before leaving.
“I ruined everything,” Maysilee whimpers, eyes welling up with rare tears of guilt. That dread she felt earlier was much harder to swallow down while intoxicated. She couldn’t stop thinking of Wyatt’s adorable face while he stood alone.
Merrilee waves her off, “It’s fine. I’m sure Haymitch doesn’t care. Blair and Burdock have probably overdone it with the drinks at more hangouts than Haymitch can count.”
Maysilee takes a deep shuddering breath, shaking her head no, “I meant with Wyatt,” she mutters miserably, pulling her covers over herself.
That’s a sentence Merrilee didn’t expect, something she didn’t have a response to. Maysilee normally avoided the topic of Wyatt every chance she got.
After a few seconds of silence, Merrilee finally found some words, “He doesn’t hate you, Mays. You’ve gotta stop torturing yourself over something that happened almost two years ago,” she says, dragging a small trash can to the side of the bed.
Maysilee stays silent, sinking back further into her pillows, squeezing her eyes shut, “Whatever,” she drunkenly grumbles, too exhausted to verbalize her feelings.
With a frustrated sigh, she willed herself to sleep.