The moment Theta Honeyman read my name, I knew this was my year, my Games. Our district's escort was new this year, and called the female tribute – me – before the male, giving me time to revel in my new status. Even having prepared for this moment for years, I'd expected to at least feel nervous onstage. Instead, I was filled with anticipation, the same muted buzz that accompanied a particularly intense training session.
Honestly, the fact that this year was a Quell, the first Quarter Quell, hadn't affected us much. I'm sure the rule change had been hell on the outlying districts, but it had probably been the smoothest Reaping ever for One, Two and Four.
I fixed my eyes on Theta Honeyman's orange and pink wig, trying without success to follow one lock of hair to the top of the elaborately twisted tower. Last year's escort, the one Two'd had since before I was born, had favored pastels, making this neon confection the more shocking by comparison.
Theta called my district partner, a boy named Quintus. He swaggered to the stage, shouldering people aside as he came. "Excellent! Just marvelous! Such a stunning pair!" our Capitol escort trilled. "Shake hands, dears, and let's have a big smile for the cameras!"
I stepped forward and took Quintus' outstretched hand, squeezing harder than was strictly necessary. The monstrous blond smiled broadly at me, then turned to face the audience. All of District Two went wild, cheering the tributes they had chosen to win the 25th Hunger Games.
Two Peacekeepers flanked me as I walked toward the Justice Building, trotting to keep up with my longer stride. I pulled the door open and was engulfed in the arms of my mentor. Varius de Luca had volunteered at age sixteen, and won the 11th Games without touching a single weapon as part of a bet. If anything, his hand-to-hand combat technique had only improved in his fourteen years of mentoring. He wasn't prone to hugging.
As if listening to my thoughts, Varius withdrew, clapping me on the shoulder with enough force to buckle my knees. "Nice job, Salotti," he said. "If anyone can break One's winning streak, it's you. Let's get you on the train."
Across the room, I could see Quintus exchanging goodbyes with his grinning father and tearful baby sisters. I spun on my heel and followed Varius out.
Theta Honeyman met us on the train, sweeping forward in a stifling cloud of perfume to usher me toward my compartment. "Here you are, dear," she said, waving me through the door. "I'm sure you'll want to freshen up. Clothing is in the dresser by the bed, cosmetics are in the top drawer."
I rolled my eyes once she'd turned away.
"Give me ten minutes to beautify myself," I said wryly to my mentor. "Then we can watch the other Reapings."
Eight and a half minutes later, I rejoined Varius in the corridor, and we found Quintus and his mentor in the viewing room, already searching for the best commentary on the Reapings. My fellow tribute flashed me another toothy smile, but said nothing. Our mentors exchanged small talk until Quintus decided on a channel and put the remote on a glass end table.
Once the three of us had settled onto the overstuffed couch – Varius, typically, paced behind us, unwilling or unable to just sit – the tension seemed to evaporate.
"So, Salotti, you and me, huh?" Quintus was still grinning. "I have to say, I'm not surprised. I've seen you train. We'll make a good team. And when the time comes, you'll be a worthy opponent. After all, you're almost as good as me."
I arched an eyebrow. "Is he always this deluded?" I asked, looking over Quintus' shoulder at his mentor.
She laughed, revealing a row of gold teeth that began with her top left incisor and ended with the first molar on that side. Allison Romano had won her Games four years ago by taking the hammer intended for her skull in the side of the face, then decapitating her final opponent with a sword before passing out cold. "I prefer to think he's confident," she replied. "Quintus is right about teaming up, though. He's been training since he was eight, and you've been working with Varius since-"
"Since she was five," my mentor interjected. "They're Careers. They were born for this, just like you and I were, Romano. Stop jawing and turn up the TV. We'll talk alliances later."
For the most part, this year's Reapings were unremarkable. Because of the rules of the Quarter Quell, there were no volunteers. Each district's votes had been tallied the day before, so all that was left was for the escorts to call the names, one male and one female.
The pair from One was blond and beautiful, as usual. Both tributes smiled and waved at the cameras, seeming unsurprised that their district had picked them for the Games. I watched my Reaping silently, smiling a little when I saw the digital Quintus' grin fade as I compressed his hand. I missed seeing the boy from Three, but saw the girl limp toward the stage, dragging a stiffly disobedient leg.
Four was the last district that held my attention, since they were potential Career alliance material. Both the boy and girl looked a couple of years younger than me, and clearly neither had expected to be Reaped, but they didn't shame themselves by showing fear or hesitation. I'd assess them during training.
The rest went by in a blur. When the girl from Ten stepped forward, Varius tapped my arm, saying, "Take her out early. She looks strong for an outlier." I nodded, refocusing my attention in time to see the boy from Eleven stagger forward. He was young, scrawny, and underfed – no competition there. His district partner and the pair from Twelve were similarly average.
When the program was over, I bid my mentor goodnight, nodded in Allison's direction, and retreated to my compartment to begin my nightly regimen of strength and flexibility exercises. Today was the first day since I turned twelve that I hadn't sparred with Varius in the Training Center – my usual afternoon routine coincided with the Reaping. I knew I'd be training harder than ever once we reached the Capitol, but my body still felt jumpy and underworked.
When, after an hour of work, I'd failed to break a sweat, I gave up and slid into bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.