“Sherlock!” she said with surprise, as if she wasn’t expecting me to come look for her.
“Hi, sorry to, uh, bother you, but I was wondering if we could talk?” I asked.
“Of course, come in.” she agreed, hurrying out of the way that she almost fell over her feet. “Sorry about the mess.” She muttered, but the only thing I saw out of place was a purple sock with kittens on it. I’d never expect something so childish from a victor.
“Well, first of all, I should probably apologize for yesterday.” I muttered.
“It’s alright, I guess I just made a mistake, I’m sorry…”
“You’re right.” I interrupted with shame. She looked at me with shock.
“Really?” she muttered, as if thinking I was lying to be mean.
“I guess I needed someone to point it out, but yes. I realized that you were right and I’m lost and terrified.” I admitted. Molly looked sympathetic, as if I was a child with a first crush.
“Sherlock, I don’t think it’s the best idea for you, I can only imagine that after the games things might not turn up the way you want.” Molly debated. As far as telling me to give up, she put it very politely.
“Exactly, this is my last chance. I don’t think I’ll ever find another person that managed to, you know, impact me like this, and I just want to use this opportunity for good.” I said, making it up as I went. As far as excuses go, this was a pretty good one if I do say so myself. Whatever she was going to say, she lost it.
“Sherlock’s in love!” she said with excitement. I knew half of her was pointing out that I was in love, but not with her, but the other part was delighted.
“What should I do?” I asked in almost a pleading way.
“Well I don’t know, how far are you willing to go?” she asked, sort of awkwardly. I shrugged, I honestly had no idea.
“Well, I want him to know, and kiss him.” I said a lot quieter than the rest of the sentence. Molly tried to hide her smile, but I was blushing more than I had ever before.
“Well, I think you should just go for it. Maybe sit him down, and confess your feelings, and then just, you know, go from there.” She shrugged.
“I’ve only got one day.” I remembered. Tomorrow was evaluations and interviews, and the next morning we send them off. Molly nodded sadly.
“I’m sorry it has to be that way, it’s quite inconvenient.” She agreed. I groaned, this wasn’t helping much, I could’ve figured talking to him out by myself.
“Well, I guess thanks.” I muttered, going for the door again.
“Sherlock, good luck. I think it’s great that you’ve finally fallen for someone.” She said. I smiled weakly, but then turned and walked back out the door again. I went back to my room, too embarrassed to come out for the rest of the day, but it wasn’t like I really needed to. I’ve done all the research I had to do, and I think John had a pretty good advantage now. I read a book I had packed on Charles Darwin, doodled in my notebook, and lay there, like I did every day. I was debating using more drugs, just to ease my boredom, but I decided I might be needing them when John was in the arena. I looked at my drawing, it was John, again, with a sword in his hands, standing on top of the cornucopia as a hovercraft swooped down to pick him up. Obviously he had just won the games. Molly had wanted me to admit my feelings, but how was I supposed to do that? I seriously doubted he had any feelings towards me; actually I was almost sure he didn’t, and I was afraid I’d scare him out of his mind. What would he think about a mentor/tribute relationship, it was mad! But for some reason madness seemed to follow me around. I really did want John to know, even if I hadn’t known until last night I was positive it could go somewhere if he made it out okay. I hated this love, but I’ve also never felt this delighted. I’d tell him tomorrow, after the interviews with Flickerman, on the roof maybe, we hadn’t gone up there before. It would be perfect, a happy memory for him to go in with, he had made an impact on my life in only a week. It took way too long for the tributes to come back, but when they did I bounded out of my room and greeted him.
“I’ve got more stuff for the map.” He said excitedly, and the two of us just ran right back in, to the amusement of Mrs. Hudson, who muttered something to Irene about the excitement of young people. I shut and locked the door as John searched for the notepad and pens, sticking one under a couple of the names a scribbling stuff underneath. Then I held blue string for him to connect the district ten girl and the district seven girl together.
“There we go, all the alliances I’ve picked up on.” He said with a triumphant smile. I smiled back at him, enjoying the gleam in his eyes.
“Do you know what you’re going to do for the evaluations?” I asked. John’s good mood seemed to drop.
“There’s nothing I’m good at, nothing that will impress the judges.” He pointed out.
“You’re great at a lot of things, but it needs to be something you can demonstrate. How about weights, just throw some of those around maybe?” I suggested.
“I’m not strong enough for that.” he defended.
“Well, swords then, what about those?” I thought. Or you could just smile and be adorable and nice; they’d probably give you a nine for that.
“I guess I could try that.” he shrugged.
“I’m sure whatever you do, you’ll be brilliant.” I assured.
“And what about the interview, should we be doing anything for that?” he asked.
“I know that Sara is planning the outfits as we speak, only a little bit of posture and manners and we’ll be good. Remember what we’re going for right?”
“I’m supposed to be adorable and innocent.” He remembered.
“Great.” I said happily. “How about we do a little bit of acting, pretend I’m Flickerman, and you’re you, of course.” I suggested, sitting on the bed and making John sit in a chair in front of me.
“Posture John.” I hissed. He corrected himself, sitting up straight and putting a charming smile on his face. “Okay, now we welcome, from District Twelve, John Watson!” I announced in a terrible impression of Flickerman, the interviewer. John smiled more, waving his hand a little bit to the pretend audience. I felt like a complete idiot, but shook his hand and told him how lovely it was to have him here, even though in the real interviews it was mandatory.
“So John, the public is dying to know, how do you see yourself in the upcoming games?” I asked. He tried to hold in his laughter; apparently the idea of me being Caesar Flickerman was preposterous.
“Well Caesar, I think I see myself as just another tribute really, an underdog, and somehow I might be able to push through and become a victor, only time can tell.” He shrugged.
“Good answer.” I added. “Now tell us, how is your life in District Twelve? I know last year you sent another underdog, very attractive and funny, how is your district coping with that?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know who you’re talking about, because if I’m correct Sherlock is an overgrown toad with zero sense of humor.” John pointed out, but kept a smile and good posture.
“I beg to differ, if you must know all of the teens these days think he’s extremely dreamy and smart.” I kept my Caesar voice on, and I could tell John was struggling to keep a straight face.
“Well then the teens these days are all blind and will be very disappointed to find he has no emotions whatsoever.” John said. Idiot, I have emotions. I considered just using my Caesar voice to tell him, it would be quite funny to say that the audience wants to know if he loves his mentor as much as his mentor loved him, but I decided against it. This needed to be perfect, and that didn’t sound like the perfect setting or time. “I think the people of District Twelve are quite pleased to send through another victor, especially on these terms. I understand they really needed another mentor to help out.” John answered truthfully.
“And tell me, are you at all nervous?” I asked.
“Well of course, to be honest I’m terrified but of course everyone is, if they’re not they’re lying to themselves. I just want to get this over with, and if I’m alive at the end then that’s great, but if I go down, I’ll go down fighting.” John said truthfully.
“That is very sweet Mr. Watson, and I know your fabulous mentor really doesn’t want you to go down.” I said, feeling, for some pathetic reasons, my eyes get hot, as if I was on the verge of tears.
“Then I’d tell him that my last thoughts would be of him.” John said. I gave him an odd look, trying not to look to desperate or excited.
“Well your mentor will say that you should probably be thinking about family.”
“He’s become my second family.” John said, and I felt my face get red.
“That’s very touching Mr. Watson, ladies and Gentleman,” I got to my feet and gestured for him to do the same. “John Watson!” I said, maybe a little bit too loud, holding his hand up. He smiled and bowed, the invisible audience cheering.
“That was good, definitely.” I decided, trying not to bring up what he said before. I really hoped that wasn’t part of some act, because it had really touched my heart.
“I hope it’ll be fine when the time comes.” He agreed with a smile. Dinner was ready a little bit later, so we went to the table and sat next to each other, waiting for Irene once again. Molly smiled encouragingly at me, but I just pretended to ignore her and start eating. I only had a pile of mashed potatoes, but in comparison to the absent lunch and just bacon for breakfast I thought it was pretty good for me. John had some steak and broccoli, but just picked halfheartedly at it. No one ate much, I could tell we were all thinking the same thing, we were terrified, for the tributes and for ourselves, we all knew there was only one more day until the games, and even Irene looked nervous.
“So, how has everyone’s day been?” Molly asked rather nervously, eyeing John and I again.
“Pretty good, I guess. Stupid training though, those people are two times my size.” John decided.
“Well that’s unfortunate.” Molly sighed.
“And I still haven’t been accepted into the Careers, but I think the boy from Four fancies me.” Irene said with a smile, tucking a lose piece of hair behind her ear.
“How about you Sherlock?” Molly asked.
“Fine.” I muttered, not looking up, but rather annoyed about how bloody obvious she was being. She might as well be holding a sign that said Sherlock and I talked about something today and I want to know how it turned out.
“And Mrs. Hudson?” she asked.
“I went out for lunch with Mrs. Turner, the Ninth District escort.” She said happily.
“That’s nice, where did you go?” Molly asked. I hated casual conversation; I hated everything that had to do with going out for lunch and having an apple pie normal life. We were cursed, we couldn’t have that, we were cursed to live this evil fame life of death and misery.
“Well, it was nice, her boy just got married a couple of months ago, so she was going on about that.” Mrs. Hudson said happily. Molly smiled pleasantly and said how nice that was, and I just stabbed my fork rather aggressively into the pile of mashed potatoes.
“Are you okay dear? You seem rather distracted.” Mrs. Hudson observed. Oh, so Molly hadn’t told her yet. That was a shock; it was almost like they had a link between them, everything Molly knows Mrs. Hudson does too.
“Have I ever listened to your boring stories anyway?” I snapped.
“Well, no, but usually you’re not so off in space about everything.” She pointed out.
“It’s been a long day, and we have a lot more rough days coming up.” I lied. It had definitely been a long day, there was nothing about that, but it was only because I’ve been so bloody distracted.
“May I be excused?” I asked.
“Before desert?” Mrs. Hudson asked, as if that was rare for me to skip.
“Yes?” I asked pleadingly.
“Well, if you insist.” She sighed. I thanked her and scurried off to my bedroom, not in the mood to talk or even be looked at by anyone. Except John of course. I felt like I wanted to break into my drug shoe again, but I didn’t, I had to rationalize, and I was doing quite well for two or so days without an attack. I threw myself onto the bed, face first into the pillows once again. I had one more day and night with John now, two more nights with his hand in mine, and then I was completely on my own again. I wanted John back now, I wanted him to come in and ask me what was wrong, to hold my hand and comfort me like he had before. But for some reason I waited, and waited, no one came knocking, and I was on my own still. I imagined Mrs. Hudson and Molly wanted to talk together over desert and he was just too polite to walk away like I was able to. So I just stayed there, feeling lonely and sorry for myself as ever. There was a knock on the door when the clock read 8:38, even though there wasn’t a schedule, I still considered him late.