Katniss tried to calm her pounding heart, but it was difficult. For the first time she was face-to-face with the other tributes in the gymnasium. The ridiculous costumes were gone, and they were dressed in training gear. The show was over, and the real business was beginning.

Snippets of advice flashed through her mind in Haymitch's voice, often slurred: Don't appear weak. But don't go drawing attention to yourself, either; that'll just make the Careers mark you as their first target. Try to lie low.

The instructor was echoing that last warning right now. "Don't fight with the other tributes," she said with a slight, probably rehearsed, laugh. "There'll be plenty of time for that in the arena."

Katniss glanced over to her right and found herself meeting the eyes of the brutal tribute from District 2. Cato. As their gazes locked, one corner of his mouth lifted in a cruel smile. She turned away quickly, her heart thudding. She hadn't liked the look in his eyes. She had seen the strength in those arms during training, how the thick ropes of muscle had flexed as he hurled spear after spear at the dummies, lopped off their heads as easily as a farmer scything wheat.

And if she had read his expression correctly, he had just marked her as his prey.

She didn't relax any futher, either, as the training continued. The other tributes displayed a range of fighting skills that differed based on their age, size, and the wealth of their districts, but most of them looked like jokes next to the Careers. Katniss saw Clove of District 2 hurl knives at the dummies with inhuman speed and accuracy. She saw the blonde tribute from District 1 nock arrows to her bow and hit the center of the bulls-eye every. Single. Time. She saw the huge black District 11 tribute hurl a huge metal weight ten feet across the floor of the gym.

Katniss had only to look down at her own scrawny arms to become even further convinced that her bow and arrows were her only chance of staying alive. She wouldn't last five seconds in hand-to-hand combat against Clove or any of those gladiators.

She thought of the mockingjay pin, but instead of some supernatural good-luck charm it now seemed small and insignificant, just a brittle piece of metal. A hundredth of the weight of one of the swords Marvel was handling right now. Her own hands looked so delicate to her, her bow flimsy. One slice of that sword and her weapon would be useless. Of course, that same slice would probably take off her head, so in that case she wouldn't even be needing a weapon anymore.

The hours spun by quickly—too quickly. Before she knew it, Katniss was waiting to perform her evaluation. Her hands were still raw from sparring with the trainers. She swallowed down a rusty taste—she had bitten her tongue earlier and now she kept feeling like her mouth was filling up with blood.

"They say the Careers don't get any special treatment," she remarked to Peeta. "How convenient that the first few districts get to be the first ones called. By the time we get in there, the Gamemakers are ready to drop dead of too much food and wine."

Peeta shrugged, looking, as always, reluctant to get angry. "Then we've got to make sure they remember us."

"Easier said than done." She had a vision of herself stringing the arrow backwards or some other ludicrous mistake. The Gamemakers would laugh so hard they'd fall off their cushy chairs. Maybe she would win sponsors simply through providing comic relief.

After an almost intolerable wait, one that seemed too long and yet far too short at the same time, her name was called. She stood up, remembering how many times her name had been called in the last few days. She was growing used to it. Or maybe just to the thought of her impending…no, don't think that.

They barely glanced her way as she entered the room, most still engaged in conversation and picking at the remnants of food on the tables. "Katniss Everdeen," she called, as she was supposed to. That got their attention for a few seconds; she'd have to make sure they counted.

The bow felt too big, too heavy, wrong in her hands. She strung an arrow to it and aimed. Before she even released it, she knew it would go wide. Laughter pricked her ears. Her mouth was dry, her tongue thick. The only thought she could conceive of was I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up.

Mechanically she picked up another arrow and let it go. This time she hit the target dead center. She smiled to herself and glanced up at the Gamemakers, sure they would be at least somewhat impressed.

But no one had been watching. They had returned to their chatter. She stared up at them in disbelief. Now they were arguing over who had ordered a roast pig.

The apple in its mouth was as red as the target. The target she had hit dead-on without receiving even a flicker of recognition.

Let's try this again, she thought, and let her third arrow fly.

"Your foolishness is simply unbelievable," Effie hissed. She hadn't paused in her barrage of disapproved and angry remarks since Katniss had entered the room. Katniss just stared at the screen. The Careers were racking up high scores, that was for sure. Marvel got a 9. So did Glimmer. Both tributes from District 2 got 10s. Katniss found herself staring at Cato's image when his score was announced. She got the uncomfortable feeling he was looking directly at her, even though she knew the footage had been taken hours ago. Her stomach dropped.

Finally her score was announced. An eleven?

No, she thought. There must be a mistake. But there wasn't. She felt an elated grin spreading across her face. Effie yelped with joy. "I knew it!" She leapt to her feet and hugged Cinna, who literally swept her off her feet and twirled her around. Even Peeta looked happy for her. Well, of course, she thought. He is supposed to be in love with me, after all. But she had a feeling that the joy and relief in his eyes wasn't just acting.

She didn't know how this made her feel, exactly.

A/N: so this was just the first chapter, but there will be actual Cato/Katniss interaction in the next chapter, that is if you want it! ;) review please!