Missing Pieces

Sweeter than Fiction

My wireless continuously buzzes throughout the day. Since today is rest day I don't technically have to attend school, but I do. I hope to take the next administered test which will occur on Saturday. In order to achieve this, I need to accurately complete my remaining skill set. I ignore Damon's messages, they flutter in every few minutes, and focus on the government paper I need to write. The school remains empty for the majority of the morning. Proctors parade in every now and then to check with me. We discuss my required tasks. I could finish by Wednesday and have a few days left for studying.

I leave the building around noon after completing my final papers. The next train won't pull in for another hour. Rather than waiting I decide to walk. After all, it's only a mile or so. The few trees scattered along the walk have erupted in pink blossoms. The metal walkway's ridges have been smoothed out from the regular traffic. I quicken my pace, intending to be home before the lunch hour closes.

I walk through the door just in time. I program the monitor to provide my meal package and a water. While I shovel spoonfuls of ravioli into my mouth, I decide to read through D's messages. Shockingly, he wants to go running. He said he missed me. He also write that he has something to tell me. The majority of the messages consisted of nonsense or flirty phrases, most had me giggling. I laughed out loud at his tenth message when Marli made her way downstairs.

"Whatcha laughing at?" She slides her arms across the table, stretching toward me.

"Damon just sent me hilarious messages while I was at school," I smiled.

"You know, it's too bad you guy didn't get matched. Now that's a perfect couple," Marli spooned ravioli into her mouth and pointed the fork at me.

"Oh please," I scoop up the leftover package and toss it into the compactor.

"Think about it," she waved and pranced up the steps.

Rolling my eyes I shot up the stairs after her. I shuffled to my room. After picking through my closet for what seemed like hours, I decided to turn to the monitor. I scrolled through the latest outfit trends, mostly skirts and sky-high heels. I settled on tan circle skirt with black nylons. I slipped my favorite cream sweater over my head as the monitor spit the articles into my closet chute. I told Damon I'd meet him in five. I laced up my dark leather boots then gathered my hair into a loose bun, allowing my bangs to fall out.

"I'll be back later!" I called to Marli as I shut the door.

I didn't want to explain to her where I'd be. She doesn't need to know I might have feelings for someone other than my match. I doubt I'll even meet my match. My tattoo has swirled for months. I glance at my palm. Today it barely flickers yellow; he must have left again. I shrug.

I don't feel up to running, so I take my time climbing the trail. Birds throughout the trees sing slightly off-tune, something must be up. I see a chipmunk skitter across the path in front of me, stopping in its tracks to cock its head at me. I wave, and he scurries up a tree. The forest is hauntingly quiet today, other than the birds. I can't here any other animals. I stop and turn my gaze to the sky, no ships. A puzzled expression settles on my face. I choose to ignore it and continue treading.

A few minutes later I break into the clearing. Damon has a plaid blanket sprawled across the field. He lays on his back, hands behind head, with his eyes closed. Beside him rests a picnic basket. His shoes sit neatly placed on the grass aligned with the blanket. I slip of my boots and place them adjacent to his. I sit on the blanket and let my head rest on his stomach.

"Afternoon Leonard," he pats my hair and leaves his hand on my forehead.

"You really out did yourself today, didn't you?" I chuckle.

"As always Brittyn," he sits up, folding his leg and placing my head in his lap.

"So? Show me what you got!" I sit up on my elbows; then I allow my back and neck to rest against his chest.

"Would you please hand me the basket, my love?" He looks down at me. His chin grazes my lips.

I sit up and pull the basket onto my lap. I spin to face him.

"Well first, champagne," he pulls two glasses and a bottle out of the basket. He pours enough to halfway fill each glass, then places one in my hand.

"To best friends," he toasts.

"For always," I second. We both sip the champagne. We sit in silence for a few minutes.

"Oh! I also brought French bread, cream cheese, and for dessert, chocolate cheesecake." He pulls each item out and sets them in a tidy circle.

"Mm, sounds delicious," It's rare to have food that doesn't come in a meal package. You have to specially request it from the monitor. It then must be processed by officials. He must have planned this in advance.

He sliced the bread and spread the cream cheese across it. He handed me a slice and nibbled at his own. I pulled mine into pieces, slowing chewing each bit. I wanted to savor the flavor.

"So what did you need to tell me?" I licked the cream cheese knife as he packaged up the bread and cheese, gently placing them into the basket.

"I got my calling..." He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his forearm. His swirled waves fluttered in flicks of red. Suddenly, I was aware of my own tattoo which was glowing deeper red with every passing second.

"Damon..." My face sunk.

"Look at your tattoo! It's practically on fire! Doesn't it sting?" He points at my hand.

"It burns," I rub my palm.

"Do you think?" He cranks his head to the side.

"No, Damon, that's impossible," I shake the thought.

"I've heard of it happening before. What if we get matched?" His eyes light up.

"Damon, we don't have the same marking," my heart throbs.

"It can happen," he persists.

"It can't. My swirls gleamed yellow today, meaning my match left," tears well up in the corners of my eyes.

"I had to go to the Capitol in order to pick up our meal. They couldn't deliver it today," he trailed off. His smile stretches wider.

"Damon, you don't really think," I scratch my scalp.

"We've been matched!" He pushes me back onto the blanket. He kisses my face.

"I can't believe it. Everything I've ever wanted in a match." Tears of happiness fall from eyes.

"I love you," he clutches my jaw and presses his lips against my own.

"I love you more," we sit up.

"Time to celebrate," he pours more champagne while I set two slices of cheesecake onto plates.

He grabs the fork; he feeds me a bite. I grin and do the same.