Disclaimer: I own nothing but any OC's you see.
Summary: Colletta grew up with the whole of Panem at her finger tips. But all she wanted was to make a difference, and for her best friend to love her back. This is the story of the other girl Finnick Odair couldn't live without and how she made it through one of the most turbulent times in the history of Panem. This is the story of Colletta Snow.
Author's Note: This is going to be AU. If you prefer things to be strictly cannon, then you don't need to read this. This is my first attempt at Hunger Games fanfic, so please feel free to rip me to shreds in reviews. I will try to update this regularly (and not abandon it like I did my other stories), so also feel freeto rip me to shreds in reviews if I don't update often enough. Other than that, please enjoy it! And don't forget to review!
January Third, 2938
Colletta had never in her life been nervous. She knew she could get away with doing anything, even breaking a law that result in death, simply on the basis of being the President's granddaughter. But her hands were shaking, her palms sweaty, as she watched Head Peacekeeper Livington, a vile old man who took too much pleasure in doling out punishment to the citizens of Four, gesticulate wildly, the wallet in his pocket peeping out temptingly. She could see no reason why she shouldn't just give it a little tug. It wasn't like he would miss the money. And the citizens of Four needed it more than he did.
She spared Livington one more glance to make sure he wasn't looking (he was eying the scaffolding where a dead body hung with a bit too much longing), and whipped her hand out before he noticed, sticking the bulging wallet in her shoulder bag. She emptied the wallet of its bills and coins in her bag, pretending to be looking for something (a camera, perhaps?) and slid it back in his pocket. How he was still oblivious was beyond her. That made for poor job performance, didn't it? He started to walk away, probably assuming that she was so riveted by his tour of the district that she would follow him. And she would've if it wasn't for the calloused hand that had wrapped around her dainty wrist.
Colletta jumped, assuming a Peacekeeper had caught her, her mind reeling for an excuse. But it wasn't a Peacekeeper. It was a boy, probably no older than her fourteen, his bronze hair ruffled from the wind. He smelled like the ocean—all salt and fish and something else that teased her nose. Her mind caught up with her senses and she relaxed, yanking her arm free from his loose grip. She didn't doubt that if he really wanted to, he could've never let go of her.
"Can I help you?" Colletta asked, trying to mask her Capitol accent. It wouldn't do for the regular citizens to know that she was there. Safety precautions and some other what not, she reminded herself.
"You know the penalty for stealing is death, right?" He asked, eying the cadaver in front of the justice building.
"Well," she said, turning around, "good thing I didn't steal anything." I reclaimed it in the name of the people. She was about to walk away when she was struck with an idea. She reached into the bag and pulled out a wad of cash. Anyone important would assume it was her own money. This boy, though he was well defined with muscle, clearly needed it more than she did, if the way his ribs stuck out were anything to go by. Or how tattered his clothes were. She took his hand and shoved the money in his fist. He looked shocked at first, then understanding dawned in his sea green eyes. She could hardly blame him for being surprised—that had to be at least ten high numbered bills. Satisfied with her good deed, she turned on her heel, ready to follow after the idiotic Head Peacekeeper.
"Wait!" He called after her, grabbing for her arm again. "Who are you?"
In a flash of inspiration, she lied, giving him her most dazzling smile. "Robin Hood."