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Wyatt always had a problem with love.
Ever since he’d been a little boy, he’s always been casted to the side by his father. The Callows were a family that showed little to no affection amongst themselves. His father would give him a shoulder squeeze once in a while but that was really it. His uncles would also give little Wyatt hard pats on the back when he would fetch some cigars or water when asked, but then he was ignored when they would do, what his mom would call it, their “Booker Time”. That was all Wyatt would get from the Callows, so he didn’t get that paternal or familial love from them.
His mother was a little better thankfully. She was a good mom, but she showed it through spending time with a person, not so much physically. She would be there with him whenever he felt alone, but she wouldn’t hug him or comfort him when he would cry. Instead she would make his favourite food for dinner, no matter how much his father or uncles would complain. It made Wyatt feel better, but he always wished his mom would give him more. He knew she loved him and he loved her, but something was hidden underneath that made that love seem strained.
This lack of affection made Wyatt develop a need to be close to people. This need tied with the fact he is a naturally anxious person means that he never pushes himself to get that affection. As other kids would play at school whenever it was recess, he would be off to the side watching them and fidgeting with his coin, something he found helped him whenever he’d get overwhelmed. He’s lucky that he was never noticed by the other kids, or else his beloved coin would’ve been taken in a heartbeat.
He remembered the change that happened in his family when he showed his calculating abilities. When he was six, he’d just come home from school and he saw his uncle Gideon at the kitchen table, trying to do some math for the rest of the Callow brothers’ Booker Time. He then slammed his fist down on the table and let out a frustrated groan.
“Ugh, why’d I have to get stuck being the stupid oddsmaker.” Uncle Gideon mumbled.
He supposed that his Uncle Gideon is having trouble with the math an oddsmaker has to calculate. It usually wasn’t his job. That title belonged to his grandfather. He had never met him, but he was told just how smart he was, able to calculate odds of things happening so quickly that he could do it right in the moment. He was also told that he was a very cold person, someone who brushes off affection from anyone, even his own family. Wyatt had a feeling that’s why the Callow’s now don’t really show their love, being ignored by their father for so long. Ever since he died, his father and his uncles have taken turns with being the oddsmaker for Booker Time.
Sensing that his uncle would only get more and more angry as he continued calculating, he had gotten out a cigar from his father’s stash and set it down on the table, sliding it over to him slowly. Uncle Gideon lit it up quickly, shoulders relaxing slightly as he let out a puff of smoke. He looks down at his nephew next to him and pats him on the back. Wyatt grabs a chair close to him and pushes it next to his uncle, climbing up to see what he has done so far.
Not much it seemed. There were a bunch of scratched out calculations on the page, all of them reaching to a number that wouldn’t make sense the more he looked at it. He doesn’t even know where he got that 35.78% from, or what it even represents. The parts of the paper that aren't scribbled are the main problem and information about the tribute in question. It read, “38: Odds of district 2 male winning”. He takes a look at the calculations that he started off with and shakes his head.
“You’re doing it wrong.” Wyatt said bluntly.
“You think I don’t know that kid.” his Uncle Gideon had replied.
“It’s supposed to be a 4, not a 9.” he said, pointing to the incorrect calculation.
His Uncle Gideon looked over to where Wyatt had pointed, noticing his mistake after a few seconds. He erases the number and rewrites previous calculations, now using the correct number. To his uncle’s surprise, it fixes everything. He just turns to Wyatt and pats him hard on his back again, laughing.
“Damn! You got it right!” he exclaims, “How’d you know that anyway?”
Wyatt shrugs his shoulders, moving his body to get off the chair but his Uncle Gideon stops him.
“Say, Wyatt” he says, “Who do you think has the best odds at winning this year's games?”
He doesn’t like being put on the spot like this, it makes him feel overwhelmed the way his family awaits his answer. His mother is always there to make them stop and take him into his room, not wanting him to be apart from “Booker Time”. However, since his mom isn’t here to stop his uncle from asking these types of questions, he had to answer.
“..Porter.”
“The girl from 5?” his uncle presses, “How come?”
Wyatt then started to explain himself in detail. Porter had more muscle compared to the male tribute from 5, and could probably take some Careers in a fight. District 5 is also known for being clever, much like District 3. Having the brawn and brain already put her in a high standpoint, as most of the other tributes had only brawn, brain, or nothing at all. Her score was fairly decent to not draw attention and she also got along well with the Capitol during her interview a couple of hours ago. She was the definition of a victor. When he was done talking, his Uncle Gideon flipped the paper and slid it over to Wyatt for him to try and calculate her odds at winning, which he did under 30 minutes.
When his family came home to get ready to start Booker Time down at the Hob for the Games the next day, his Uncle Gideon crowded his father immediately, showing him Wyatt’s calculations on Porter winning. The Callows were all gawking at paper, amazed at how a six year old boy could do something like this so quickly. His father walked up to him and looked at Wyatt for a good moment before ruffling his flowy wiry hair
“That’s my boy.” he had said.
Wyatt’s heart was filled with such joy in that one moment. He had made his father proud. He’d gotten acknowledgement that he so desperately craved. One look up to his dad, made it quickly vanish though. His father was smirking down at Wyatt, but not out of love or pride. He was looking at him like he won a bet, that he was going to get a good sum of money. It made Wyatt feel scared. He saw his mother avoiding her gaze on the scene.
Sure enough, when Porter ended up winning that year, his father brought him down to the back of the Hob where the rest of the Booker Boys were. He bragged that his boy got his prediction right, and he could calculate odds quicker than his old grandfather. The Booker Boys were impressed, giving him cheers and even some candy for his good work. Wyatt won’t deny that in that moment he felt giddy with all of the attention, but something twisted in his stomach, fear.
His mother would always try to make sure he was far away from the Booker Boys. She would try to plan something the night before the games, trying to distract him from asking questions of what his father was doing. Being a smart kid however, he figured out what his father did down at the Hob over time. He knew that his mom was disappointed in him now, because whether Wyatt liked it or not, he would be the Callow's new oddsmaker.
He started seeing things differently after that day. He no longer saw the children in the playground with longing, but as tributes. He started doing calculations in his head if they were reaped for the games. How long would Otho Mellark survive in the Hunger games? What is the likelihood of Lenore Dove Baird receiving a sponsor gift? He couldn’t stop himself. He wanted desperately to go back to how he was before, but his mind wouldn’t let him. He tried talking to his mom about it but it only made her turn his back on him more, shame on her face. He wouldn’t dare talking about this to his father or his uncles, scared of making them think he enjoys their line of work.
The thoughts wouldn’t stop. It made him feel even more like an outcast. He just knew he wouldn’t have any friends when he thinks like this about them. He won’t ever feel what it’s like to be close to someone, to hug someone, to feel real love.
Until one day it happened.
The school was holding a three legged race. It was an annual thing that the school does a week before the reaping so that students can forget about the worry of being reaped. The whole school participates, separated in different age groups. The first race consisted of kids ages five to nine, then the second race consisted of the ten to fourteen year olds, and the final race had the fifteen to eighteen year olds. Every race would be around the entire district, ending in the Square where their parents were waiting for their kid with their belongings already collected from the school. When the race finishes, the first three teams that cross the finish line are rewarded with small coloured ribbons that say their placement. Since almost every kid loves winning free prizes, they all gun for a ribbon.
Wyatt was once again off to the side by the wall of the school, his hair covering his face. He liked having long hair, able to hide in his brown locks. It eases him when he feels overwhelmed. His mom likes it too, loving the little curls that formed at the end of his hair. His father and his uncles, on the other hand, hate it. They kept on commenting that his hair makes him look like a girl, which he finds ridiculous. His mother always tried to make them stop their comments, but it would always end up in a big argument, oftentimes having Wyatt and his mom walking out of the house and coming back hours later.
Eventually, Wyatt gave into the pressure and asked his mom to cut his hair the night before. She looked at him sadly and nodded her head, turning back to continue to cook dinner. He didn’t want to cut it either, but if it stopped the fighting between his mom and the Callows, then he would keep his hair short forever.
He looked over to all of the kids, finding their friends and asking to be teammates. With no friends to go up to, Wyatt is left to wait for a teacher to pair him up with someone, again. Last year, he was paired up with Asterid March. Maysilee Donner was throwing a fit after being told her, Merilee Donner, and Asterid couldn’t be a team of three and that one of them had to leave. After Maysilee started bickering with the teachers, Asterid offered to find someone else. Having no else to be paired with, he and Asterid were partners.
It was nice, a little awkward, but nice. Wyatt and Asterid both agreed that they had no interest in racing, so they just walked along the track instead. They made simple small talk their way through, Asterid obviously trying to be polite. He was glad that they did too, it was something to distract his thoughts on Asterid’s chances in the Games. She was very kind too, nodding along when he spoke of something. Wyatt was hopeful that he made a friend that day, at least an acquaintance.
When they finished the race and untied their rope around their legs, Asterid’s father marched right up to the two of them and dragged his daughter away. She offered an apologetic smile when she turned back to Wyatt, but then let her father lead her back home. It left Wyatt wondering if he’d made a friend that day or was she just taking one for the team. The next day after school, she didn’t take one glance at him, just played with the Donner twins.
He accepted the fact that he most likely wouldn't gain a companion through a race partner, seeing how well it went with Asterid. He felt tears building up in his eyes and slid down the wall of the school building he was leaning against. He took out his coin and began to run his fingers along the edges, trying to calm down. Why can’t I find someone? Wyatt thought to himself, wiping tears from his eyes, Am I just supposed to be lonely forever?
“Hey! Wanna be partners?”
His head whipped up to the sound, hair still covering his face. He saw a little Seam boy with his hands on his hips, a big smile on his face. Haymitch Abernathy, if he remembers correctly. Even at a young age, he has already shown his charismatic personality. He doesn’t necessarily go up to people, but he talks with other kids like it’s nothing, a trait that Wyatt can only dream of having. He gets along with people easily, a great trait to have for the tributes final interview. He can just imagine an older Haymitch talking with Caesar Flickerman, making the audience laugh at some witty jokes he would make. He wonders how many sponsors he’d get.
No! Wyatt thinks, trying to shake away the thoughts, Don’t think like that! He realizes that Haymitch's big grey eyes are still looking right at him, waiting for a response. Wyatt clears his throat to try and get his head back on track. He looks around to either side of him, trying to see if Hyamitch was talking to someone else, then points to himself.
“Me?” he asks.
“Well, yeah! There’s no other kids ‘round here.” the Seam boy answers like it’s obvious, “I’m Haymitch Abernathy by the way!”
He doesn’t want to say he knows, that’d just be weird, so he replies shyly, “I’m Wyatt.”
“Well, nice to meet you Wyatt!” Haymitch beams and smiles at him.
Wyatt eyebrows raise at the smile. It was so kind. Wyatt has gotten smiles before, but they’ve never been this happy before. His mother would smile at him like she cared about him, but there was always sadness laced into it, especially since he’s been a part of the Booker Time. His father and uncles smile at him when he’s done something prideful for the family, but it’s like they’re proud of themselves like they were the ones who had done Wyatt’s accomplishments. Some kids have only given him small awkward or apologetic grins. Haymitch’s was so much different.
Words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop himself, “Why did you pick me?”
It takes Haymitch by surprise, his eyes widening slightly. He points behind him with his thumb to two other Seam boys talking with the team of Merrilee Donner and Asterid Marsh. Looks like Maysilee was the one to find someone else this time.
“Oh! Burdock and Blair decided to team for this race. Since we can’t be all together, I went to go and find someone else to team with. But that’s alright!” Haymitch says, extending out a hand for Wyatt to take, “Got no problem teaming with someone else!”
Taking one for the team, He thinks to himself, Again.
Wyatt's small smile falters back down upon realizing Haymitch’s intentions. Guess he’ll always be the alternate choice for a trio. He can feel more tears forming in his eyes, but he quickly wipes his face and brushes his hair out of his face. He grabs Haymitch’s hand and the little boy helps pull him up. Wyatt is practically towering over the boy, the top Haymitch’s head reaching his nose.
“Whoa! You’re taller than I thought you’d be!” Haymitch comments happily, “Looks like I got lucky!”
Lucky? Wyatt pondered to himself. How would this kid be lucky to have him? Well, he supposes that having longer legs would allow him to take longer steps, thus reaching the finish line faster. Ah, so he wants to win. Something that Wyatt has no interest or any ability to do. He tries to voice to Haymitch that he should find another partner, but he’s cut from his thoughts when the smaller boy drags him to a teacher to get their ankles tied together.
Once tied, Haymitch tries to get a rhythm down, urging Wyatt to walk and he’d move his foot at the same time. It’s a little wonky, but Haymitch figures it out quickly. Wyatt doesn’t want to race, he doesn’t want to let Haymitch down by not winning because of him. He gives a shot at telling him again.
“Listen Haymitch,” he starts, “I don’t think-“
“Preparing to lose, Haymitch?!”
Wyatt and Haymitch looked to see where the voice was coming from. They see Woodbine Chance, a troublesome kid who’s always up to some mischief, whether good or bad, looking at Haymitch with a smug look on his face. His partner was none other than Bramble Chance, his brother and one of the most athletic kids of his age group. Together, they’ll certainly be a force to be reckoned with. Haymitch gives a laugh to the younger Chance boy.
“As if!” he says, “I found an older kid too, Woodbine!”
Woodbine crosses his arm and raises an eyebrow towards Wyatt. A quick flash of doubt crosses his face, like he doesn’t believe Haymitch. Is he seriously questioning my age? Wyatt thinks. He knows compared to other kids his age, he looks a little younger, but questioning if he’s older than the grey-eyed Seam boy next to him is pushing it.
“He’s older alright!” Haymitch says, “He’s-“
Haymitch stops himself, realizing he doesn’t actually know Wyatt’s age. He turns to his race partner and whispers to him.
“How old are you?” he asks.
“Eight.”
“Eight!” Haymitch announces back to the Chances, dragging out the last syllable mockingly.
Woodbine scoffs and Bramble full-on laughs, still not believing Haymitch’s words. “Sure he is.” Woodbine chuckles, “See ya at the finish line! If you even make it!”
With that, Bramble pulls Woodbine to the starting line, trying to find a good position. Haymitch sticks out his tongues and blows out a raspberry when they turn away, wiping his mouth afterwards.
“What a bunch of jerks!” he grumbles and crosses his arms, “What’s their deal anyway?”
Whether Wyatt likes it or not now, he’s going to have to race. Being tied to someone who's determined to win and teased by two brothers that want them both to lose pretty much seals his fate. So he might as well go along with Haymitch’s competitiveness, no way out of it anyway.
“Must be afraid that we’re going to win,” he guesses, “If they really went out of their way to heckle us, they must know we’ll be a tough team to beat.”
“Ha! Good thinking partner!” Haymitch praises, his spirits lifting up immediately, “Let's get a good spot at the starting line!”
With that, both Wyatt and Haymitch made their way to the other kids getting ready to race. There’s a lot of other people there, kids talking and laughing with one another. The race must be starting soon. Haymitch guides them to a spot closer to one edge of the starting line, saying that it’ll reduce other teams being in their way. Wyatt admits it's a smart move, but he’s also surprised that Haymitch is strategizing to win the race. He must be really determined to win. Haymitch pulls on his shirt as the teachers gather the straggling kids to the starting line.
“I have a plan that’s gonna guarantee us a spot for first place, but I just need you to trust me,” Haymitch whispers, “You in?”
Wyatt ponders for a moment, thinking of the pros and cons. On one hand, Haymitch’s plan could backfire tremendously if it’s an extreme plan. It would most likely end up in some people getting hurt, including them. Since Haymitch chose a spot near the far end, it would lessen the odds of people getting injured, but teams would still get in the crossfire nonetheless. Plus, the Chance brothers would probably mess with them during the race, based on how they talked to them before, so it’ll increase the likelihood of teams ending up with scraped knees and bruises. From what it sounds like, there are a lot of cons to agreeing.
The pros, Haymitch will be happy, for this one time. He’ll likely just end up ditching him just like Asterid did before, taking one for the team and all. Maybe he can just pretend for one moment, for one second, that he made a friend if he agrees to this plan. Not to mention, beating the Chance brothers would be pretty satisfying too. But he thinks back to the cons, there are just too many of them. They outweigh the pros by a mile.
It’s not smart to agree to a plan with too many negatives, yet he finds himself saying, “I’m in.”
Haymitch gives him that warm and bright smile again, determination on his face.
“Good!” he says, “Just follow my lead.”
The teachers begin the countdown to start the race, some of the older kids in the next races joining in as well. He sees teams getting ready to run, Woodbine and Bramble getting ready by bending their knees to take off, Maysilee and one the McCoy kids bickering to one another to make sure the other can keep up with them. Haymitch is just as determined. He plants his feet deeper into the dirt below him, brows furrowed in concentration. Wyatt tries to copy his enthusiasm, trying to get into the feel of the race. He’ll make sure that Haymitch wins, that he gets that ribbon and can shove it in Woodbine’s face. They can do this.
The teachers and the older students yell “Go!’ and they're off. There’s laughing coming from teams who mess up and yelling from others that are getting annoyed at their struggle. There’s kids who fall on the floor, some getting right back up to move again and some who begin to cry due to getting hurt. There’s so much going on around him that his thoughts take over him again. He can’t help but think of the Bloodbath that happens in every Hunger Games. He wonders if this is how tributes feel. All of the movement around them, the mix of noises, the need to keep up with everything. He looks at two little merchant girls who’d face-planted into the dirt, now bawling their eyes out from the shock and pain. He starts to think of them in the Bloodbath, those tributes who die early on.
Stop it! You need to focus! He snaps back to reality and notices his feet are moving at a nice and even pace. Haymitch was guiding them through the race while Wyatt was overtaken by his thoughts. He notices that they’re not near the front at all, but a little behind the middle of the crowd of racers. He looks through the teams and sees the Chance brothers way up ahead, moving quickly and efficiently. He thought they were supposed to be competing with Woodbine and Bramble farther up, following Haymitch’s plan to, presumably, get past them.
He’s about to voice his concerns to Haymitch but he stops himself. Haymitch looks totally calm, nonchalant but happy. His tongue sticks out in concentration as he focuses on his and Wyatt's steps, mumbling “left, right, left, right” quietly to himself. When a team makes their way past them, Haymitch lifts his head and sends them a sweet smile and a wave, leaving the team to giggle to themselves and wave right back to him. If Wyatt’s being honest, it’s quite endearing. He doesn’t really know what Haymitch is planning, but he must know what he’s doing. So, he keeps his concerns to himself.
They get to the part where the track takes a turn close to the woods. Haymitch slows they’re pace by having other teams pass them. He seems to be panting hard. Maybe he needs a little bit of a “pick me up”? Wyatt goes to place a hand on his shoulder and gives it a little pat. This seems to really energize Haymitch, as he takes a big step forward and sends them both to the dirt floor. Haymitch falls on his right side, pulling Wyatt with him by instinct into a big bush.
The fall wasn’t that bad, the bush slowing the fall, but he did get a couple of scrapes from some branches and twigs on the ground. It hurts, but nothing that he would cry over. He goes to sit up but Haymitch pulls him further into the bush, already up in a kneeling position. Haymitch starts to brush off the some leaves that ended up in his hair, then brushing dirt off of his shirt. Why did he pull him into the bush? Wyatt questions, Aren’t they supposed to win?
“What are you-” Wyatt begins, but then he is cut off by Haymitch’s finger on his lips.
“Shhh!” Haymitch whispers, a mischievous grin appearing on his face.
He points to the opening of the bush, making Wyatt follow his finger. It seems teams that were behind them before are now going past them, seemingly unaware that they’ve taken a tumble into a shrub. He turns back around when Haymitch begins to laugh, quickly covering his mouth to muffle the noise.
The sight is very pleasant to see. Haymitch’s eyes close shut as laughter overtakes him, his sweet laugh still audible behind his hands. He notices that his eyes crinkle as he laughs, something that reminds him of his mother when she gives a small chuckle to Wyatt’s ramblings. Then, Haymitch removes his hand and gives him a bright and charming smile. He didn’t notice how pretty his eyes were, a bright grey that looks almost like a whitish blue in a certain light. It makes him feel nice, makes him feel all warm inside. He feels peaceful.
Ba-bump, Ba-bump, Ba-bump.
What is that?! He’s surprised by how hard his heart begins to beat. It felt like Wyatt just ran a marathon! Maybe he’s just overexerted himself? It would explain the flush on his face, only just now noticing how hot his cheeks are. Though, he and Haymich weren’t going that fast to be tiring themselves. Haymitch isn’t even breaking a sweat, so why does he feel so… weird? He doesn’t if that’s the right term. It’s like a good weird, but still overwhelming enough to make him start to panic. What is wrong with me?!
He feels hands on his ankle that bring him back to the present. He sees Haymitch trying to untie the rope and their ankles, getting it off fairly easily. What is going on? Wyatt thinks, Does he not want to be partners anymore? He was fairly certain that he didn’t trip them up and he knew that Haymitch purposely tipped them into the bush.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Following the plan,” Haymitch answers, “I told you to follow my lead.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly explain your plan to me.”
“I couldn’t let other people hear about it! Don’t want other teams stealing my idea!”
Fair enough, Wyatt thinks. If some team, like the Chance brothers, heard about Haymitch’s plan, then they would either copy what they are doing, or tell on them. Either option wouldn’t be the best for them.
“So I assume all of that waving and falling into this bush was part of the plan?” Wyatt questions.
“Yup!” Haymitch beams, “To avoid suspicion of cheating!”
“Cheating?”
“Well yeah! That’s the only way we’ll win!” Haymitch says, moving hands to show emphasis, “Woodbine and Bramble are probably gonna cheat too. So, we’ll fight fire with fire!”
Wyatt hums in agreement, “What’s the rest of the plan?”
“All we gotta do now is sprint through the forest to the part of the track that goes into the woods close to the finish line and retie are feet together,” Haymicth explains confidently, “Then we just make our way to the finish line and get our first place ribbons! Pretty smart, right?”
Wyatt admits that it’s smart, but risky. There’s just so many things that could go wrong being left alone in the woods, even if for a seemingly short time. Wyatt never went out into the woods before, never having the need to. His family would have enough money for some food on the table that they never needed to go out and hunt for it, even if that money was mostly from gambling. He just hopes Haymitch knows what he’s doing by suggesting that they go into the forest just to win a race.
He knows that other families in the Seam had to go out and get some food in the woods, so maybe Haymitch knows his way around the forest because of that. The possibility of Peacekeepers is also very low, since they only really monitor the races for the older kids instead of their age group, typically keeping an eye on those of reaping age. It still doesn’t calm down his nerves, but he can play along for the younger Seam boy.
“Pretty smart.” Wyatt awkwardly says, not being able to find the right words to say right away.
His awkwardness seems to make Haymitch chuckle a little. He goes up to Wyatt and grabs his hand, pulling up much like he did before at the school building. He’s still surprised by Haymitch's strength. Then again, Wyatt is a pretty lanky kid, so he imagines that his weight would be easy to handle. Haymitch lets go of his hand and starts to run into the forest, stopping after realizing Wyatt wasn’t following.
“Come on!” Haymitch says, waving his arm towards Wyatt, “We don’t have all day!”
Wyatt is still hesitant, not knowing what exactly is out there. But, he already agreed to be Haymitch’s teammate, and agreed to this plan before. Winning together would also feel very nice. He can picture the way that Haymitch would smile as the teachers would give them their ribbons. They’d get to see the disappointment on Woodbine and Bramble’s faces. Maybe, just maybe, winning would gain Wyatt an actual friend at the end of this. He gives Haymitch a smile and races past him and the trees.
Haymitch lets out another laugh and begins to chase after him, “Hey! Wait up!”
It’s not long before Haymitch runs past him, not all too surprising to Wyatt. Being in the front, Haymitch begins to guide him through the forest, weaving through trees easily as Wyatt tries to catch up. The trees around them look so much bigger than he thought they’d be. He knew that they would be far taller than him, being a kid and all, but they’re much larger than some trees inside District 12. Their leaves also cover them from the sun, providing nice cooling shade from the harsh sun above. He sees some critters skitter away from them after they run past them, spooked by their noise. Wyatt never realised that the woods were this cool! He always thought it was scary in here, but it's actually quite nice. Maybe he could come back just to get away from home for a bit.
Haymitch suddenly halts to a stop, causing Wyatt to almost collide right into him. He doesn’t, thankfully. He sees Haymitch looking around, finger on his chin like he’s trying to figure out something. He even goes on his tippy toes to try and get a better look through the trees, hoping it would help. Haymitch then points to his left, going to run in that direction.
“This way!” Haymitch calls out.
He doesn’t sound all too confident. Wyatt finds himself following regardless however, casting aside the doubts in his mind and putting his full trust in the boy. Haymitch’s pauses happen more and more frequently as they go on, also getting more and more nervous as well. Seeing the once confident boy smile now completely gone stirs something in Wyatt’s chest. It makes him worried, not for his safety, but for Haymitch. It's odd seeing the boy no longer in a good mood, it’s saddening. They slow down to a walk as Haymitch continues to look around, eyes squinted as if to look for something. Wyatt stops and fiddles with his fingers as Haymitch continues on, not noticing his stillness. His mind seems preoccupied.
“Maybe we should turn around and walk the way we came from,” Wyatt suggests, “You know, to try and retrace our steps?”
“No! I know where I’m going!” Haymicth replies anxiously, “It has to be here somewhere! It has to be-”
Haymitch then misplaces his step and falls down a small hill that he didn’t realize he’d been walking on. Wyatt hears the way the younger boy tumbles and springs into action. He runs up the hill and looks down.
“Haymitch?!” Wyatt shouts out.
He sees Haymitch slowly get up into a sitting position once he reaches the top of the hill, brushing off some dirt on his knees. Wyatt notices that there’s some blood on his knees, probably getting cut on the way down. Haymitch starts to wipe his face, seemingly trying to get rid of more dirt, but he then starts to cry. It alerts Wyatt. If he felt unervered by his lack of smiling before, his crying alerts him even more. He slides down the hill, and sees Haymitch curl in on himself, sobbing into his knees. Wyatt inches closer to him.
“Haymitch are you hurt?!” Wyatt hurries out, trying to get a better view on his scraped up knees, “Here let me look-”
He tries to get a look at Haymitch’s knees, but it just makes him cry more. Wyatt backs away immediately, also causing the younger boy to sob even more. Wyatt doesn’t know what to do. If Haymitch is hurt, then he needs to get closer to see the damage, but that seems to cause Haymitch to sob. Backing away also does the same thing, maybe a little more. How can Wyatt help him? Maybe it’s not completely the fall that is making him cry . He was stressed out before, so maybe it caught up to him after he fell. Wyatt tries to think of a way to calm him down.
He moves a little closer to Haymitch, who is still crying, and gives him a comforting pat on the back. He sees Haymitch unfurl a little, so he continues to pat his back, shifting to rubbing his back in small circles after a bit. His efforts work for a bit until Haymitch begins to sob again. Wyatt thinks that maybe his touch became too overwhelming so he pulls away, but Haymitch pulls him back close to him and huddles against his body.
Ba-bump, Ba-bump, Ba-bump.
Wyatt fully freezes up. It looks like his heart is beginning to hammer again. He feels the blush on his face way more than the tears beginning to soak his shirt. The absolute worst time for this to be happening again. He looks down at Haymitch, hoping he wasn’t disturbing him with how fast his heart is beating. It doesn’t seem that he minds. In fact, Wyatt would say that it’s soothing him. He finds himself lifting his arms up a little and curling them around the small boy, rubbing circles on his back again. This makes Haymitch curl up closer to his chest, his cries turning into hiccups.
Wyatt’s face is a full on tomato now, he assumes. His heart is also beating way faster than it was before, that good weird feeling back at full force. This time, instead of panicking, he finds himself embracing it. He doesn’t worry about what’s going on with him anymore, focusing on comforting Haymitch the way he would want to. Wyatt realizes that this is his first real hug with someone, and it feels just as good as he hoped it would.
Before he can think about what he’s doing, he brings up one of hands to comb through Haymitch’s curls, relaxing him more. Wyatt starts playing with his hair, twirling it around his small fingers. It’s soft, Wyatt notes. Haymitch’s hair is a little coarser than his, but it’s soft despite its thickness., something that Wyatt’s hair can never achieve. It’s a little wet from the sweat that developed on his head, but it doesn’t bother Wyatt in the slightest. He hears Haymitch cries stopping completely, now just being short sniffles.
He wishes that he can stay like this, hugging Haymitch and playing with his hair, but he knows they can’t. They’re currently lost in the woods and despite it being the middle of summer, the nights can get pretty chilly. So he puts his hands on Haymitch’s shoulder to pull him back slightly, to talk to him face to face.
“We need to head back to District 12,” Wyatt says, “We don’t want people worrying about us.”
Haymitch gives Wyatt a nod and allows him to pull him up onto his feet. Wyatt sees that Haymitch is avoiding his gaze, looking down at the forest floor instead. He decides he’s not going to press him about it, Haymitch will talk to him when he wants to. Wyatt tries to think on how they can possibly get home. They went northward when running into the woods. They did take a couple of turns here and there, but they always moved north. So to get back, they have to go south. If he remembers correctly, moss grows on the north side of trees. All they have to do is go the opposite direction of where the moss is growing! Then they’ll be back to their families in no time. Wyatt grabs Haymitch’s hand carefully and directs him towards a tree, pointing to the moss.
“We follow the opposite direction of where the moss is growing, then we’ll be back home,” Wyatt explains calmly, “Does that sound ok?”
Haymitch nods again and they both begin their walk to District 12. This time, Wyatt guides Haymitch through the forest, keeping an eye on the moss on the trees. Their walk back is fairly quiet, the only sounds being their footsteps and some birds chirping. Occasionally, Wyatt looks back to the once smiley boy, who continues to look at the ground. It’s only when Wyattt gives up on checking up on him that Haymitch speaks up.
“I’m sorry that I dragged you into this…” Haymitch said softly.
His voice, despite its quietness, startles him. He wasn't expecting him to speak up. It also takes him a moment to process his words. He doesn’t know why, but he starts feeling mad. Not to Haymitch, he doesn’t think he has the heart too, but to the thoughts that must be crowding his brain. He knows that feeling all too well and he doesn’t want the young Seam boy to deal with that now.
“Don’t say that” Wyatt says.
“No! I mean it!” Haymitch counters, “It’s my fault that we’re out here! It’s my fault we’re lost! I should’ve been able to bring us to the other part of the track, but I couldn’t! Now, you’re the one bringing us back home! I was an idiot to think that this was a good idea.”
Wyatt comes to a stop and spins around to look Haymitch directly in the eye, startling Haymitch on how swift he was. He didn’t even know he could turn that quickly himself. Wyatt places both of hands on his shoulders again, much firmer this time.
“Haymitch.” Wyatt starts, “This was the most fun I think I ever had with another person. Sure there were some hiccups and admittedly some doubts here and there, but this plan brought about an adventure that I wouldn't even imagine partaking in!”
Haymitch looks at Wyatt with those big grey eyes, saying, “This was fun?”
“Of course it was fun! It’s not everyday that I have another kid ask me to do crazy plans like this!”
Haymitch lets out a little chuckle. It seems like his pep talk was working.
“I don’t care that we got lost or the bruises that I’ve gotten,” Wyatt continues, “I had fun and that's what counts right now.”
Haymitch, now fully reassured, gives Wyatt a familiar big and warm smile, his eyes shining with thanks. His smile was so bright that it was almost contagious, causing Wyatt to smile right back at the boy. His smile must be dopey or something, because Haymitch begins to lightly laugh again,
“If you had this much fun,” he starts, giving a friendly bump to Wyatt arm, “You may want to hear what I have planned next year! It’s gonna be way wilder than what I planned for this race!”
Wyatt gives a chuckle, “I may need to take you up on that!”
“Take you up on what?”
A rough voice shakes them both to their core. Wyatt and Haymitch whip around to see a tall and long haired man looking down at them with an eyebrow raised, a stern look on his face. Wyatt recognised the man immediately. It was Clerk Carmine, the guy who played the fiddle when the Covey would perform. He would watch their performances at the Hob when his family and the rest of the Booker Boys were making bets in the back.
Despite playing beautifully, Wyatt knew how scary he could be. He was the one who would kick the Booker Boys out of the Hob when their betting entered dangerous territory, like dog fighting. The Callows would then come marching back to Wyatt’s house and complain about him the rest of the night. Wyatt was secretly grateful for him, actually stepping in and doing something about the betting that he would only dream of doing. The way that he was looking down at him and Haymitch suggested that they would be taking Clerk Carmine’s wrath.
“What are you boys doin’ out here?”
“What are you doing out here?” Haymitch counters.
“Out huntin’,” Clerk Carmine answers firmly, “Now, answer my question.”
After a moment of silence overtakes the three of them. The fiddle player is looking down at them, quietly waiting for an answer. Wyatt feels anxious under his gaze, intimidated by the fiddler’s stern expression. He wonders if Clerk Carmine recognizes him, or at least sees the resemblance between Wyatt and his dad. People do often say that they look alike, much to his dismay. Maybe that’s why he’s giving them the stink eye. Haymitch goes to admit to what he’s done, but Wyatt stops him and speaks instead.
“I wanted to win the three-legged race this year, sir. So I came up with a plan to make sure I’d win.”
Clerk Carmine gives Wyatt a nod, urging him to continue.
“I thought that if Haymitch and I could cut through the forest, we could reach the finish line quicker, but we just ended up getting lost,” he explains, “I’m sorry Clerk Carmine, It was my fault.”
Clerk Carmines looks to both Wyatt and Haymich, trying to analyze the situation before him. His thinking face is meaner than his stern face, Wyatt notes. He moves in closer to the two of them. For a second, Wyatt thinks that he was on to them, feeling himself start to sweat out of nervousness, but Clerk Carmine just shrugs his shoulders and coats a cloth with some water from a bottle, handing it over to Haymitch.
“Here. To clean off the blood on your knees.”
Haymitch blinks up at him for a second before following the older man’s orders and wipes his knees. Wyatt offers to help but Haymitch says that he’s fine. When he’s done, he hands back the cloth to Clerk Carmine. The fiddler takes the cloth from the younger boy and sends him a look, noticing that Haymitch was avoiding his eyes. Wyatt just hopes that he can’t figure out Haymitch’s tell, having been a victim to it as well. Clerk Carmine turns around and waves the two Seam boys over.
“Gotta getcha both back to your families,” he explains, “Don’t want to have your mas worryin’ too much. Come on now.”
With that, the three of them begin walking back to the District, Clerk Carmine far up front leading the two boys to the Square. The walk is fairly uneventful, with Wyatt and Haymitch being too nervous to talk with Clerk Carmine a few feet in front of them. They really don’t want to get on his bad side. He also notices that when they exited the forest, they were right in the Meadow where the Covey spends their days. A couple of more minutes and they would’ve gotten out of the woods by themselves.
When they arrive in the Square, Wyatt sees kids from the age group above them already finished their race. It seems like they’re ready to receive their ribbons. We must’ve been lost for a long time. As they continue walking, he spots both Woodbine and Bramble beaming at their first place ribbons. The Chance brothers notice them walking with Clerk Carmine of all people and begin to laugh at them, pointing to their ribbons mockingly. It makes Wyatt hide in his long hair. Thankfully though, a stern look from Clerk Carmine to the two brothers stops them from teasing them any further.
“Haymitch!”
A woman is running up to Haymitch, wrinkles on her face from tough years he supposes. She brings him right up to her chest and squeezes him, obviously relieved that he’s ok. Some of his age group teacher’s run up to the three of them too, happy to know that they are in fact alive. They’re creating a bit of a crowd now. The woman holds him a little longer, Wyatt and Clerk Carmine standing awkwardly to the side, before setting him down again. Surprisingly, she then gives him a good whack on the head.
“Why do you always have to make your ol’ ma here worry like that!” the lady says, “Just what in the wide world were you doing?!”
“Ma’...” Haymitch groans.
“If I may ma’am, I found them by the Meadow near my house,” Clerk Carmine interjects, then gesturing to Wyatt, “This one said he wanted to play a bit in the tall grass, and dragged little Haymitch here with him. Saw that Haymitch was a little scrapped up, so I gave him a wet cloth to clean up a little. Sorry we took so long.”
That wasn’t what I told him, Wyatt realizes, Is he covering for me? He didn’t take Clerk Carmine for the type to cover for someone, especially for the Callow’s oddsmaker in training. He was expecting to be told off by him, not creating a lie to get him out of trouble. Well, less trouble then he would’ve been in, he supposes. He feels Clerk Carmine pat his back, much lighter than any of his uncles would.
“What do you say to this nice lady, boy?” he says, looking down at him to silently urge him to play along.
“I’m sorry ma’am,” Wyatt apologizes, trying to sound as guilty as he possibly can, “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Apology accepted,” Haymitch’s mom breathes out, the teachers also looking convinced by Wyatt’s apology, “Just don’t go causing trouble again.”
“I won’t.”
“Let’s go back home, Haymitch,” she says, grabbing her son’s hand, “We don’t want to keep Pa and your brother waitin’.”
“Wait!” Haymitch says before running up to Wyatt and giving him a big hug.
Ba-bump, Ba-bump, Ba-bump.
Wyatt is left stunned again as Haymitch goes back to his mom, waving his arm behind him to say bye. He waves back robotically before a goofy smile overtakes his face. He doesn’t know what comes over him, but he can't help but keep his eyes on Haymitch as he walks away. It’s probably another symptom of the weird good feeling that he’s been having. The teachers leave as well, sending their thanks to Clerk Carmine for taking care of them. He feels a tap on his shoulder that snaps him back.
“Better go find your ma’ kid,” he states, “Probably worried about you too.”
“Oh, she’s not here,” he tries to explain, “She gets busy making food for other Seam kids. She doesn’t have time to come pick me up so I walk back home by myself.”
“How ‘bout I walk ya’ back home,” Clerk Carmine suggests, “My niece was already taken home by my brother so I got time. And I want to make sure you don’t go running off again.”
Wyatt lets out a little chuckle and gives a small nod. He allows Clerk Carmine to walk beside him as they walk to Wyatt’s house. Clerk Carmine gets stopped a few times on the way, people praising his talent and asking him when Covey's next performance is. He just gives them a wave off, pointing to Wyatt and then pointing in the direction they were walking. People seem to put two and two together and they leave them be, giving an apology as they leave. He must not like talking to a lot of people, Wyatt thinks. Which is pretty surprising considering that Clerk Carmine performs in front of plenty of people all the time.
“So, care to explain why you lied to me earlier, kid?”
“Huh?” he responds, genuinely surprised at Clerk Carmine’s question.
“Callows don’t typically come up with wacky and dangerous schemes like ya’ said ya’ did, they gamble. Abernathys, on the other hand, are known for that stuff,” Clerk Carmine clarifies, “‘Sides, I overheard you two talking earlier.”
Wyatt is shocked. It turns out that Clerk Carmine knew the whole time that it was Haymitch who came up with the plan and that he covered for him. Maybe that’s why he came up with another story for Haymitch’s mom and their teachers, he thinks, Because he knew that I didn’t come up with the plan. But Wyatt still doesn’t know why Clerk Carmine wouldn’t just throw Haymitch to the wolves instead. As much as Wyatt would be upset about Haymitch getting in trouble, it would make more sense for the fiddler to snitch.
“Why didya’ cover for him, buddy?” Clerk Carmine asks earnestly.
“I-I don’t know…” he finds himself stuttering out, not knowing why he did so himself, “It just felt…right.”
Clerck Carmine lets out a small laugh as he shakes his head, “Yeah, that's what love does to ya’. Makes ya’ do stupid stuff.”
“...Love?”
“Yup,” he explains simply, “Just be careful where you show your love. Don’t want Peacekeepers being a pain to ya’”
He’s about to ask what he means by that, but they arrive at his house before. It seems like no one is home, so Clerk Carmine will probably stay a bit to talk to his mom. He wonders if he has any cold water left in the fridge to give him while they wait, maybe sneak him a cigar from his father’s stash if he wants. That’s what he usually does when his uncles are over. He goes to open the door to let Clerk Carmine inside, but he finds the fiddler already walking back.
“Aren't you going to have a talk with my mom?” Wyatt calls out.
“Well, she doesn’t have to know what happened, now does she?” Clerk Carmine replies, “See ya’ around, kid.”
Wyatt gives him a wave as he leaves before heading back in the house. The rest of the day has him in a daze. He keeps on thinking about what Clerk Carmine said, on love. When his mom comes back to start cooking dinner, she asks if he had any fun during the race. He answers with genuine yes, but he doesn’t fully clarify on what he did. When she’s done, she guides him into the bathroom and begins to cut his hair.
He watches his hair fall down his shoulders as she snips away, noting that she’s shaking slightly as she cuts. She doesn’t want to do this, but she’s doing it for Wyatt. That’s the love he’s used to. Maybe Clerk Carmine was stating something he already has seen before, doing something for another person because you care about them. No, that doesn’t sound right. He loves his mom, but he feels something different for Haymitch, a different kind of love. And what did Clerk Carmine mean by being careful, anyway?
After he finishes his dinner, he goes into his room to try and avoid Booker Time. His mother goes to join him to give him some company, but he stops her, saying that he would like some alone time. His mom looks at him sadly but nods, allowing him to enter his room alone. He flops down on his bed and lets out a breath he feels like he’s been holding all day. He goes to play with his hair to calm him down a little, but he grabs nothing. Right, my hair’s short now. He runs his hand through his hair as he starts thinking about today’s events.
He knows he feels love for Haymitch, Clerk Carmine could even see that, but he doesn’t know exactly what. Every time he would do something as simple as smile at him, Wyatt’s heart would race and his cheeks would flush red. Everytime he would suggest something, Wyatt would go along with it without question. When he was comforting the younger boy in the woods, he played with his hair. Not initially because it would calm him down, but because Wyatt was fascinated.
He thinks he’s read about this before. He looks over the edge of his bed and reaches underneath, grabbing a book that he’s hidden under a blanket he would use when it got too cold. It’s a romance book that he would catch his mom reading when he was younger. Wyatt remembers how much she would smile reading it, and he understands why after reading it himself. It's a cute story, about a boy and a girl being best friends when they were kids but then lost touch over the years, then rekindling their friendship that turns into a relationship. The boy in the story starts feeling different towards the girl randomly one day, blushing every time the girl would do something like smile at him. It reminds him of his situation with Haymitch, it's almost identical to how he feels.
He flips through the pages to find out what the characters in the book called what the boy was feeling, hoping to find an answer. He reaches the page when the boy talks about what he’s feeling to his mom and his grandma, scared of what's going on. His mom and his grandma begin to laugh, which freaks him out more, but they reassure him that it’s a good thing, saying that he’s developing his first ever crush. A word sticks out to him.
Puppy love.
Is that what I’m experiencing? Wyatt asks himself, Puppy love? He reads a little more. They describe it as developing a crush or being in a relationship at a young age. Does he have a crush on Haymitch? The symptoms that the boy in the book experienced definitely match his own. He feels his cheeks flare up again at the thought of an older Haymitch and him becoming an item, sharing kisses under the willow tree he saw in the Meadow earlier. He finds himself smiling again as he begins to reread the chapters that have the older versions of the girl and the boy redevelop their feelings for eachother, laughing dopily to himself. He sleeps that night with the book held tightly to his chest
The following day at school, he sees Haymitch in the schoolyard playing with his friends. He wants to go up to him, to join in on whatever he’s playing, but he stops himself. Wyatt feels overwhelmed. He doesn’t think he can do it, the panic coursing throughout his entire body. His heart is beating too fast, and not in the good weird way it was the previous day. As if sensing him, Haymitch turns to where Wyatt was standing, but he quickly turns away himself. He waits for a few seconds before turning back, feeling a mix of relief and hurt as Haymitch continues to play with his friends. Wyatt lets out a sigh, accepting the fact that this will be his new reality, pining for a boy that he’s afraid to talk to.
It doesn’t help that a year later he gets sick the week that the race was being held. He begs his mom to go to the race, but she firmly refuses, stating that he’s too sick. He receives news when he returns back to school that a girl broke her leg pretty badly during the race and they had to cancel the whole event because of it. He was hoping he would have another chance to team up with Haymitch again, but now it will never happen. He tries again to go up to Haymitch, but it always ends up with him backing out. He just hopes one day that he would come to Wyatt, but he knows it would likely never happen. Took one for the team after all.
Eleven years pass in a blink of an eye and he still pines for the younger boy. He’s now sitting on the edge of a bed that he helped press against another in this colourful apartment, keeping a lookout for any potential danger that may arise. He’s grown a lot in those years, even developing muscle from working down in the mines. He was also one of the unlucky people in 12 to be reaped for the Hunger Games, a quarter quell as well. Just his luck.
He looks over to his fellow District 12 tributes, rolling his coin along his fingers to ease his anxiety. Maysilee Donner is curled up in one of the blankets, scowling even in her sleep. Lou Lou is curled up next to her, muttering quiet words that even he can’t hear. He lets his eyes linger and the last of his teammates. Haymitch Abernathy, who’s currently sprawled out on the side of the bed he sits on.
As soon as the decision was changed for Haymitch to be the second male tribute, his stomach sank. The boy he’d been pining for so long was now going to compete alongside him in the 50th Hunger Games. Wyatt felt miserable, but he hides it deep inside of him to avoid making a scene in front of cameras. He doesn’t even know if Haymitch remembers him, he hasn't said anything to him their entire time here. Guess I’m just forgettable.
He sees Haymitch then toss his head from side to side, face scrunching up in discomfort. Must be a nightmare. Wyatt acts before he thinks, reaching out to pet Haymitch’s curly hair. He seems to scrunch up a bit more before relaxing a little bit. His hair has grown quite a bit , Wyatt notes, starting to play with Haymitch’s locks. It still feels as soft as it was years ago, the complete opposite of Wyatt’s hair which only became more and more wiry. He continues to play with Haymitch’s hair until he’s sure that the nightmare has passed, moving his hand away carefully so as to not wake him.
Wyatt thinks back to their time in the forest during the race. He wonders what would've happened if he and Haymitch ran that day, going under the fence that they probably would’ve reached if they ran a little farther. They would’ve been free from Snow’s reign over the entirety of Panem, free from the Games that they were destined to compete in. He knows that would just end up terrible for them though, two young children trying to survive all alone was just a recipe for disaster.
He’s scared of going in the Games, to fight for his life. He’s scared of dying, wanting to experience life longer than the universe is giving him. But he's most afraid of killing someone, seeing the life drain from their eyes he’s seen so many times watching previous Hunger Games. Most games, winners end up winning by eliminating the other last tribute. It’s very rare to win by not having at least some blood on your hands. He questions if it’ll ever come down to him and one of his district-mates, to him and haymitch. He quickly shakes the thought from his brain.
He’ll die before ever thinking about hurting Haymitch, about hurting any of them.