If it had been up to Clove, she would've gone alone. But then again, if Clove had been given a choice in the matter, she wouldn't have gone at all. As far as the 17 year old was concerned, summer was for bikinis and Bacardi, not boarding school. The Sevina's car handled the alternating gravel and asphalt roads with minor instances of turbulence, but Clove was quick to point out each disturbance.
"I wonder how many miles the nearest hospital is from the school," she wondered aloud, flicking aimlessly through the glossy Panem Academy brochure. "I'd say 30 miles minimum, and that's assuming the ambulance tires aren't punctured." She nodded towards an empty glass bottle laying several feet down the road. "Hope I don't get…oh gee, hit by a car."
"Honey…" Lily Sevina's voice wavered slightly as her husband swerved to avoid an on coming RV, her hand finding its way to the console, which she promptly gripped onto. "You know we wouldn't do this if we thought you could handle life back home." The words weren't meant to be hurtful or condescending, but they only served to make the raven-haired girl angry.
"Oh, please," she snapped, shutting the brochure and hurling it onto the car floor. "Don't play the 'we care about you' card," she muttered darkly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Without forewarning, thoughts of the circumstances that'd lead Clove to be imprisoned in her family's BMW crept into her mind. The sights, tastes, and smells all seemed so vivid, the night of the Kensington party was nearly tangible to Clove. It was #1 on the list of things that Clove hated thinking about, but not even her best therapist taught techniques could force the thoughts from her head. She could still see the red plastic cups all over the penthouse apartment, still taste Jack Kensington's tongue in her mouth and smell the smoke from expertly rolled joints. She absentmindedly ran her fingers along her hips, remembering what it felt like to have the tips of his fingers on her bare skin. But like all the other times she'd been so unfortunate as to remember that night, images of the flashing police lights, handcuffs, and her own mug shot surfaced before she could push them away. "You know you didn't care until the Kensington party," she said, finally forcing the memories from her head. You didn't care until your book club figured out you didn't have a perfect family. Don't fucking pretend like you're doing this for me."
"Sweetheart, don't swear."
"Clove, please don't do this. We're trying to help you, okay? You'll thank us one day." Her father's voice quieted both Clove and Lily, his authoritative tone commanding their attention as he spoke.
"Do what? Say what I think, for once?" Clove rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, cutting the conversation short as she shoved her ear buds into her ears.
Clove was out of her element. A born and bred city girl, the concrete jungle had been her playground since day one. Although not even she would (or could) deny that the pine trees that were indigenous to the area were beautiful, she undoubtedly missed the smell of hotdogs that permeated the rainy streets of New York. The city was where she belonged, and that was obvious.
The tiny girl pushed aviators up on her scrunched nose as she stepped out of the mud stained car, her shoes squelching in the mud. "Guess you'll have to get a new car," she said, only halfway joking. Being the product of two fortune 500 parents meant she'd developed somewhat of a taste for designer clothing, but she hadn't inherited a need to have everything be brand new.
"Clove, sweetie… Can we please talk before we go in there? Sort things out and we can leave on a good note..." Daniel Sevina's voice was almost pleading as he trotted down the meticulously kept gravel road after the petite girl who was nothing like her 6' 2" father.
"OH!" Clove yelled, whipping around as her arms folded across her chest. "You want to end on a good note!" She let out a humorless laugh with a shake of her head, narrowing her eyes at her parents. "Have you considered the fact that we wouldn't have to end at all if you hadn't of brought me here?" She pointed towards a building down the driveway angrily, her voice seeping with venom. "I'll bet no one from home even knows where I am. What did you tell them? That I'm visiting uncle Charlie in Vermont?"
Clove's parents exchanged looks before her mother took a step towards her daughter, hurt flashing in her eyes. "Aunt Mabel in Seattle," she mumbled, almost too quiet for Clove to hear.
Clove pursed her lips, her body stiffening. "It's a little late for good notes," she said, quirking her eyebrows. "Just leave."
"Clove, let's talk about a-…"
"I said LEAVE!" she shouted, her voice loud enough to echo. They stood in the murky depths of a stalemate, Clove's shoulders squared and her face-hardened. If there was one thing she hated more than her Valentino's being ruined by mud, it was a loss of control, and Clove was being forced to forfeit. "Leave," she repeated in a quieter voice, turning away abruptly and storming towards the front doors of the school. Clove wiped at the single tear that slipped past her eyes before shoving the doors open and taking her first step inside.
Clove wanted to go back. Back home, back to her old life, back to everything she was leaving behind. However, a final thought flitted through her mind as she looked around, blinking slowly. Maybe you don't go back, maybe you go forward.