This time I locked the door since I could almost sense Molly wanting to talk to me about something. I flopped onto my bed, wanting John to be here, so we could spend our last day together in peace. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, even if it only had been for a short time, I wanted him to agree, I wanted so much from this day but I knew I’d be too scared to say anything. My master plan had to been to go to the roof, but I didn’t see that happening, considering it was chilly out and I wasn’t in much of a going places mood. I guess it would be alright to just tell him here, it’s not like he was expecting something romantic or anything. Maybe, if I was really lucky, he’d kiss me, because god knows I’m not going to be the one to kiss him. The experience with Irene was terrifying enough to be honest. Why me, out of all people, the girls had to like me, when I had absolutely no interest in even being acquaintances. I waited for a long while in there, I didn’t entertain myself with books or drawing, I just kind of sat there, waiting for John to come back and tell me all about the evaluations. When that time finally came he practically came running through the door, slamming it shut behind him as if worried someone would over hear.
“How’d it go!” I asked, sitting up in the bed with anticipation.
“I thought it was okay, I decapitated some dummies and managed to hit a target with knife.” He shrugged.
“What do you think you got?” I asked.
“Five maybe?” He guessed halfheartedly.
“Well, they announce it at eleven thirty I think.” I said, checking the clock on the dresser. It was now ten thirty; I had to wait all that time for him, time flies when you’re love sick in a fancy prison. John looked nervous, as if he didn’t believe his performance would amount to anything. I had confidence in him, even if he didn’t believe in himself.
“Don’t worry John, you’ll be fine!” I assured. He sat on the edge of the bed, tapping his feet nervously.
“Wonder if I didn’t do good enough though, I’d ruin everything!” he pointed out.
“No, you still have the interview, and even if that doesn’t work out, the games will prove your inner talent.” I pointed out.
“I don’t have inner talent.” He debated, and I felt like kicking him off the bed, but that wouldn’t really help his self-esteem.
“That’s quitter talk, and you won’t get anywhere with that, you’ve done countless things that you probably don’t even notice!” I pointed out.
“Name one.” he insisted.
“Well, take me for example. You know how I was, terrified, human hating sociopath, and we meet and suddenly I’m an alien!” I pointed out.
“So you’re saying I should’ve played truth or dare with the gamemakers?” he asked, making me crack a smile.
“Maybe you should’ve.” I laughed. Somehow, even in the darkest times, John could come and make some stupid joke, and suddenly the sun seemed to rise, if only for a moment.
“I bet anything’s better than hacking at some dummy.” He muttered. I wanted to hug him, tell him everything would be fine because the smile that was my beacon of hope was slowly but surely becoming a frown.
“Well, we have an hour to kill, I’m sure you don’t want to learn more about interviews…” I guessed.
“Oh god no, I’m so done with listening about posture and manners and I really don’t care anymore.” he groaned.
“I was exactly like you, the only difference is that I came into it with that mood.”
“I’m pretty sure the audience could tell.” John agreed.
“You’re not supposed to say that, you’re supposed to say, Sherlock, you were so good, everyone loved you!” I said in a really high pitched impression of his voice.
“Well, I don’t lie.” He pointed out.
“That really touches my heart.” I lied. He shrugged, as if trying to tell me it was the truth.
“Do you know what Irene did?” I asked.
“God, I don’t really want to.” He laughed. “What even happened last night, I was half asleep when, you know, that happened.”
“Oh god, I don’t even want to think about it. I was coming to sleep in the chair when she just came out of nowhere and kissed me. The only escape was to open the door.” I shrugged.
“You said she was jealous of me.” he pointed out.
“No, just because, you know, she was never really exposed to the truth. She thinks, you know, that we’re together.” I said simply. I could just go out and say it, right here, but I didn’t want him to be all scared and not do well on the interview. In fact, it was probably best not to tell him, would it distract him from the games somehow? But no, if he died, I’d never get to tell him how much he positively changed my life for the absolute best.
“God Sherlock, you’re a chick magnet!” he laughed. I just frowned; I didn’t like that title much.
“No, I’m just, beautiful.” I laughed, striking an obnoxious pose and pretending a giant fan was ruffling my hair back.
“Oh stop, you’re embarrassing yourself!” he exclaimed, hitting me lightly on the shoulder but laughing as he did it. The mood seemed to drop immediately though, it was hard to smile and laugh when the games were hovering above us.
“So, one last day huh?” he asked miserably.
“No, don’t think like that, you’ll be fine, just fine.” I assured.
“But Sherlo…”
“No, I won’t talk about any of that until after the interview, then we can cry and confess emotions as much as we want, but keep your mouth shut before that.” I snapped, really not wanting to hear anything John had to say that would make my heart hurt. In the end though, we were called out my Molly, who had the TV on.
“It’ll be on in a couple of minutes.” She pointed out.
“We still have fifteen minutes!” I pointed out.
“We have sandwiches for lunch, nothing special, just get a plate and sit on the couch.” Mrs. Hudson said. I grabbed a plate and a couple of sandwiches, plus a hand full of chips. I wasn’t very hungry, but it would take my mind off of John for a little bit. Instead of sitting on the couch I sat on the floor, pressing my toes into the furry rugs and taking a cautious bite of my sandwich. The news man was talking about the upcoming scores, not really mentioning John by name, but the Career hopefuls and the parade. They showed clips of everyone, but John and Irene captured the camera the most, smiling and waving.
“John you’re on TV!” I said with joking excitement.
“I think you’ll find that will occur more often now.” He pointed out, sitting right above me so that he could tap me with his foot if he wanted to. I didn’t want to think that this would be the last lunch we’d have together.
“Eat as much as possible.” Mrs. Hudson said, sitting in the armchair and watching the TV. The light pouring in from the picture windows really lit up the flat, but gave the TV a nasty glare. Even Irene came out to watch, sitting on the couch and apparently following Mrs. Hudson’s orders, her plate was almost bursting. After a while the Capital logo flashed on the screen and Molly shushed everyone rather aggressively, almost spilling her chips on the floor. Caesar Flickerman’s annoying face appeared on the screen, smiling as if this was a completely new thing to get all excited about. His hair this year was an awful shade of canary yellow; he had this psychotic obsession of dying it every new game. I was shocked he hadn’t run out of colors yet, and just waiting for it to be brown or something not very festive. He talked for a little bit about the upcoming games, about how great it was to be the host for another year and other stuff people didn’t care about. I grabbed a notepad from the table, prepared to scribble down the ranks of the people he read off. I didn’t seem to realize that I was leaning heavily on John’s legs, but Molly seemed to notice, smiling at me encouragingly. I ignored her, but didn’t do anything to sit back up. He started to read off the names and scored, the boy from one getting a nine, the girl getting an eight, on and on it went. Everyone had relatively gotten good scores, except Jeffrey, Greg’s tribute; he got a five, which was still better than I had. It would shock everyone if somehow he came out on top, actually becoming a psycho killer or whatever. Once he got to eleven everyone stopped talking, anticipating for when he got to us.
“John Watson,” John’s picture flashed on the screen and my heart stopped, “Eight.” Caesar read. I didn’t even hear what Irene got; I put my plate on the floor and scrambled to my feet, crashing into him with an attack hug. I heard him laughing and trying to fight back, but eventually just hugged me back, which was a very good feeling.
“Yes! Eight!” I cried, pulling away.
“God Sherlock, calm yourself!” he exclaimed.
“We’ve got chronological order here, seven and eight.” Mrs. Hudson said happily. Irene must have gotten a seven then haven’t the faintest idea how though. I sat next to John on the couch, leaving my food to celebrate with him. Even though he tried to pretend it was just a number, I could tell he was secretly proud for doing so well.
“I guess hacking stuff up worked after all.” He shrugged. I wanted to hug him again with this blind happiness I had, but obviously I doubted that would go over well with the others, it would only make more suspicion. Irene didn’t look too happy with her score, but I honestly couldn’t care less about what was happening to her. For her, the games couldn’t come sooner, but for John I wanted this moment to last forever. I was totally aware of our arms pressed together and my head so close to his I could probably lean it on his shoulder.
“This is fabulous you two! Absolutely fabulous, those are the highest scores in a while!” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. John smiled shyly, as if not wanting all this positive attention. I felt like a proud parent when my kid came home with straight A’s on his report card.
“And now for the interviews I suppose.” Molly sighed.
“Not nearly as difficult.” I assured. They just looked at me as if reminding me of my past, making me scowl.
“Would you stop bringing that up! Please and thank you.” I hissed. John just laughed, he must’ve found it funny in some way, but then again, they all did.
“Sorry, too funny to ignore.” Molly admitted. I frowned, usually I expect niceness from her, and this wasn’t what I’d call very nice.
“I think…” Mrs. Hudson started.
“I swear, if we do another rehearsal I will walk out of here.” I pointed out.
“I think we should get down to the stylists, the interviews are around five thirty to get everyone in.” she corrected. I sighed, not bothering to mumble an apology. It was true; after all, I was completely done with interview stuff.
“Oh good, more makeup.” John said sarcastically.
“Oh don’t pretend, I bet you’ve been putting on eyeliner since.” I pointed out.
“It takes one to know one.” he defended.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” I laughed.
“Do you guys know Sherlock owns three hair brushes, and finds it necessary to bring them all with him?” John said to the group, making me blush and scowl. Molly tried to hide her laughter, and Mrs. Hudson looked away for a moment. I didn’t have many embarrassing things to share about John, so I just kept my mouth shut, mortified.
“Well, let’s get going then.” Mrs. Hudson decided. I got up first, almost stepping on my plate, which I had left on the floor. As John got up I just pushed him back into the couch, the best revenge for telling the hairbrush story. But he didn’t see it as a threat, more of a joke, and he just laughed. We all loaded into the elevator, to go to the first place I’ve been since the parade other than the tribute center. I was jammed in the back corner, forced to only watch the back of John’s head since Mrs. Hudson stood in the way of us. We loaded into the train from the station and rode down to the stylists. This time, no one sat down; they all knew we were only on for about three minutes. This day was going by too fast, the last day I had to actually spend time with John and it was traveling almost as fast as this train.