Part I:
"THE DISCOVERY"
(1)
"Tell us, Revelyn! What's it like having a mother like Katniss Everdeen?" the reporters surround me, pulling on the back of my dress. It is late evening and the press is just starting the coverage on my Sixteenth Birthday Extravaganza. Mom and Dad had denied the permission for them to host the event on television because they claim "we should all lead humble lives." Unfortunately, the publicists don't know a thing about humble lives except for the fact that they are uninteresting and they continued with their plans for the event anyway. The paparazzi all seem to be able to get footage of me and broadcast it everywhere.
I whisper, "No comment," quickly back to the man who tugged on me, a balding man who looks to be in his fifties. They won't take 'no comment' for an answer.
"Surely you have something to say," he insists, squeezing on my wrist as if he is squeezing the words out of me. "What a weekend this must be for you! You're turning sixteen, your mother is addressing the nation, and a formal event is being held in your honor by our retired President Everdeen!"
I nod my head shakily and pull away from him, making my way to the edge of the mass of reporters. I repeat, "No comment."
The press makes one final attempt to catch me. Another man shouts out, with much more force, "Do you believe the rumors that your father is part of a conspiracy?"
"What?" I say, raising my voice as I whip around to face them in surprise.
"They say that he was all part of President Snow's plan. There is also speculation that he will try to bring back the Hunger Games. Do you have a comment on that?" the young man belts towards me over the hums of microphones and scratching pens.
My jaw drops slightly and I let out a little gasp of air. Before I can let a word out, a steady hand grabs me and pulls firmly on my arm. I look to the owner of the hand and come face to face with Posy Hawthorne, a knowing look in her eyes. She drags me to the safety of my home and shoos the press away. They leave reluctantly, with one or two stray reporters staying in the front lawn just in case I have a change of heart. It's a lost cause for them.
Posy and I sit down on a couch and she puts her hand out for me to take. I grab on tightly and give it a reassuring squeeze. Even though she is five years my senior, she is as close to a true friend as I could have. I consider her to be like my cousin, because she was adopted by a very dear friend of my mother's, Aunt Madge. They aren't blood related, and neither are Posy and I, but the level of closeness between us is similar to that of a family.
"What were you thinking?" Posy asks me gently, tugging on my arms.
I shrug and say, "I honestly don't know. I thought that they would leave me alone. For goodness sakes, I was just pulling up some weeds in the garden!"
Posy shakes her head and says, "You have to remember how valuable you are. I know it sounds ridiculous, but there are people constantly camped out here. That's why they have to take your mother and father in special transportation. Either one of them could be assassinated at any moment, especially since the location of your home is known."
"I know," I tell her. "And it scares me! I sometimes wish I were like every one else. Why did my parents have to be the ones to save this country? Why couldn't it have been your mom or Cinna or just anybody else?"
"Well, they were all involved, otherwise we wouldn't all be friends. We were linked together by experiences that happened before your grandfather became President," she explains.
I nod carefully. "I still wish that someone would explain to me especially what happened. No one wants to share. I don't know why. It's as if talking about it is tabooed," I say to her.
"It is," Posy says quietly, her head turned to the ground. She reaches back to pull out her dark bun, setting her gorgeous locks free. "We are't supposed to talk about it for free of recreating the past."
I take in her words carefully and realize that there is a valid point in this statement. If history were to recreate itself, it would be horrible. That is why it is banned to talk about, for the memories are too horrible to share. "Have you seen Aiden?"
As Posy shakes her head, I hear a thump come from upstairs. After a few seconds, I hear another thump, which jolts me out of my seat.
"What the hell is that?" Posy asks, surprised.
"I'll find out," I tell her, as I run up the stairs. I know instinctively that the noise must be coming from my brother's room, as strange sounds so often do. I reach his door and turn the handle, bounding into the room with impressive speed. The sight was not pleasant. Aiden was lying on the bed, his curls a mess, with his shirt off and there was a girl standing at the side of the bed, with smeared lipstick, messy hair, and a shirt, slightly askew.
"Shit, Revelyn!" Aiden exclaims, when he sees me. The girl wipes her mouth and fixes her shirt in a hurry.
"What in the world are you doing in here?" I ask him, disgusted.
"You know how it is, Rev. We're just making out," he says.
"Well, keep your shirt on. Jeez!" I yell.
The girl gives one look to Aiden and then walks in my direction. I'm surprised to see her leave the room, followed a few seconds later by a slam of the front door.
"You blew that," I tell him, stifling a laugh. "How do you get so many girls? You're only 14 for God's sake!"
"That should be obvious. With parents like mom and dad, you can get anything you want," he says to me.
"Doesn't mean you should take advantage of people! Do you even know her name?" I ask.
"Yeah, it's um, Emma, or Ella, or something," he answers.
"You're a pig," I tell him. "I was looking for you just now."
"Why?" Aiden asks, pulling on his shirt.
"I need your help with a plan to sabotage the press," I say to him.
"Wait, what?" he asks.
"They have been bothering us all week and they never leave us alone, so I want to see up a trap for them."
Without hesitation, Aiden answers, "I'm in."