I hear Dacia Lewis, the district escort, call a name. Some sniveling little girl steps onto the stage. She's absolutely pathetic. "I volunteer!" My voice carries across the entire crowd. Suddenly, all eyes are on me. Perfect. I will not be ignored. As I walk up to the stage, the girl grabs my arm.

"Thank you!" the tiny girl whimpers, eyes shining with tears and worship. "Thank you so-"

I push her away from me as if she is the most repulsive thing I have ever touched. I scowl. "It wasn't for you. It was for me, you idiot." I leave the girl there, crying to herself. Dacia purses her lips at my lack of compassion. But she quickly returns to the Reaping ball. With a purple-dyed hand, she chooses a second slip of paper. She unfolds it and clears her throat.

"I volunteer as well!" Everyone turns around. I moan as a monstrous boy with blue eyes and honey-colored hair struts up to the microphone. Cato. He does this weird bouncing thing on his toes. Dacia is ridiculously terrified by him. Has she never seen a Career tribute before? "Your names, please," she whispers. I open my mouth. "Clo-"

"That's Clove Bleach," the boy says, with an annoying flip of his hair. "And I am Cato Thomson."

"Clove Breach," I snarl, irritated by the laughter from the crowd. "You should respect me more, Thomson-"

Dacia quickly interjects before the bickering can become a full-out brawl. "Let's hear it for our tributes!" she exclaims to the sound of some half-hearted claps. Her face falls. "Alright then."

I am ushered into the Justice Building and the Peacekeepers lock me in a room. I wait on the couch for half an hour, but no one comes to see me. No one would find the need to, except for my abusive grandmother, who I didn't expect to come anyway.

To my surprise, Cato comes in. He looks down at me. I return the favor by glaring at him. "Did your rich little mommy and daddy say goodbye to you already?" I growl. His uncle once won the Games, so Cato's family lives in the Victor's Village, "Is that why you're here?"

He rolls his eyes, but otherwise ignores my comment. "Are you alright?" he asks me. I drop my guard. Cato isn't usually like this. I've only heard him speak this way to someone he legitimately cares about.

A trick! That's all it could be. He's the most brutal boy in the academy, but not exactly the smartest. Apparently, Cato doesn't realize that the last person who tried to fool me left the room with only one arm. Literally. I had to stay at the academy for three extra hours that day. But afterwards the instructor complimented me on how directly I hit into the artery. Ha.

"I'm fine," I grumble, staring at my clenched fists. Cato sits down next to me. I push him away. His size is his advantage in this one. He's rooted onto the spot. I shove him harder. He doesn't even flinch. I start pummeling his shoulder. "I'm fine! Leave me alone!"

Cato tries to brush my hair out of my face, so I bite his hand. It tastes disgusting. "I don't want to leave you alone," he whispers. I release my grip on him. Well, so much for the chances of this meeting not being awkward. I hope that he'll leave, but he doesn't. I point to the door and look away, not wanting him to see how red my face was getting. "Just go. There is no reason for you to get attached to me now."

"No. There isn't. But I don't care," Cato replies simply. Now I'm mad, at his persistence and at my weakness. I leap to my feet. My voice rises to a yell. "Out! NOW!"

He sighs and trudges out the door. He barely gets out the words: "Well, now that I realize that I'm just another target for you to throw knives at."

I slam the door in his face. I blink back the tears and grit my teeth. No weaknesses. No weaknesses are allowed in the Hunger Games. I can't seem to follow that rule.