It started simple. A look. The brushing of his hand against mine. A simple word said in that special tone. Then, he let his fingers creep into mine. The first time we kissed was the night before the Games, when I couldn't sleep and knocked on his door. But nobody knows. Nobody but me.
I first saw him through the television screen, but I already knew he wasn't like anybody I had ever met before. The shallow Capitol citizens who came to pick over our gems and jewels, the other kids in District 1 who were obsessed with those stupid Games; he wasn't like them. Sure, he wanted to win just like the rest of us, but he wanted to win for less selfish reasons. Or so I thought.
Cato. That was his name. Cato Hadley.
"Hey. Glimmer, right?" he said to me when I first saw him in person. I was wearing that stupid glittery outfit for the tribute parade, the one covered in tiny fake diamonds. I'm used to cheesy pick-up lines and guys hanging off of me. I've gone through dozens of boyfriends , dumping one only to pick up another in an hour's time, but I thought I saw something different in those warm brown eyes, something that actually cared for me.
"Yeah. Cato, right?" I said.
He laughed. Gosh, his laugh was beautiful. "So you've heard of me."
"Maybe." There wasn't time to anything else. Before Cato could respond I was shoved onto the chariot beside Marvel and the darkness of the tunnel was replaced by the glimmering lights of the city. I went through the motions, showing the Capitol my beautiful smile and waving my hand as if I actually cared what they thought of me.
It was after the parade though, after the first day of training, during lunch on the second day of training that I he first let me know the he truly cared about me. That day he reached his hand under the table and found my own hand. I started when his flesh touched mine, but when my eyes met his, he was smiling that smile. You know, the one that could, and did, let him get away with murder? I smiled back. That was the day he showed me the garden on the roof, our spot. After lunch, instead of going back into the training hall, he led me to an empty elevator.
"Where are we going?" I whispered into his ear.
"Someplace I know." he took my hand and yanked me into the elevator. It immediately began to rise.
"What about training?" I demanded. You couldn't blame me. I grew up in District 1, where kids were taught from birth how to win the Games.
"I've been training all my life. I might only have a few days with you." Gosh, I can't believe I fell for it, but I did. Those words convinced me to curl into him. From then on, he had me.
Once we reached the rooftop garden, we lay in a vacant corner under a collection of wind chimes. He put his arm snugly around my shoulders and I leaned on him and we talked. It was meaningless prattle; I can't even remember what we said now, but I drank every word up as if it was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. We fell asleep in the hazy afternoon sun with him stroking my hair. We stayed up there far longer than we should have, but nobody came looking and we talked some more. He brushed his fingers down my cheek. He whispered promises in my ear. He would protect me in the arena. That's what he said. He loved me. That's what he said, with that voice smooth as butter, clean as blood.
He never let on in public that we were a couple though. Not even after Lover Boy announced his obsession with the girl from 12. After that display, our relationship would have seemed staged and phony.
The night before the Games I didn't sleep. Instead, I crept down the hallway to the elevator and knocked on Cato's door softly. He opened it immediately. He couldn't sleep either.
We sat on his bed under the synthetic light in his room and talked, but this time we said the important stuff, the stuff that needed to be said.
"I don't want to die." I whispered to him. He was the only one I ever told that secret to. Sure, I refused any volunteers when my name was reaped, but only because it was expected. I was too young to die. I was too young to kill.
"You'll be fine, Glim." He murmured in my ear. "You're a great fighter."
"I don't want it to come down to you and me." I said.
"We'll see." That's all he said. 'We'll see.'
Eventually we ran out of important things to say and we just sat and he held me until the clock read into the early hours of the morning. I didn't want to leave, but I had to get back. There were Games to play. I was just about to put my hand on the door handle when his voice stopped me.
"Glim, kiss me." And I did. He ordered and I followed. We separated and he said, "See you in the arena." before closing the door, leaving me in the hallway.
I told myself that he was anxious, he didn't want Clove to find out, he was preparing himself for the bloodbath, even though there was a little droplet of doubt in my chest. But he said he loved me, didn't he?
The hovercraft ride seems forever without him beside me, running his hand across my shoulder staring at me with those deep brown eyes. Is it strange that I was relieved to be enclosed in that glass cylinder as my plate rose because it meant I was closer to seeing him again?
The sixty seconds standing on the plate felt like torture. I reviewed the plan three times-get to the Cornucopia, get weapons first, kill anyone who tries to get supplies-before the time was up. Then, everyone bolted and I flung myself into the scramble, snatching up a dagger and a sword and swinging them at anybody who cared to cross my path. I don't remember much after that except that there was blood, lots of it. Whole rivers of blood trailing from the golden mouth of the Cornucopia and ending at my feet. That one night in the arena that I slept, I dreamt of drowning in blood with that dagger still clutched in my hand.
When it was over, when it was all finally over, he was there though and he encircled my shoulders with his arm and held me close for just a second, a meaningless hug to the rest of Panem, but it healed me, reminded me that the Hunger Games was no place for weaklings. We collected everything in the Cornucopia, dragging it to the lake and stacking it up in a giant pile. We rested until the fake sky got dark. Then, we prepared for the hunt. Me, Cato, Lover Boy, Clove, Dahlia. The others stayed behind to defend our supply pyramid.
We only found one girl that night. Cato jumped her and she screamed this horrible guttural animal sound.
"Kill her fast." I begged.
" I'll kill her how I want." he growled back. That was when the droplet grew and spread into a puddle. I wanted him to hold me again. I wanted to feel his sweet lips on mine. Instead, he used and long curved knife to cut the girl along her arms and legs and left her there to bleed to death.
She was still writhing when we left, staring at me with terrified green eyes. She was coated in sickly red blood, but somehow her face was clean and so I saw her eyes. I saw her cry in pain. I watched as the life faded out of her body after Lover Boy went back and slit her throat and I found out that, in the arena, death can be a blessing.
The rest of the night was full of horror for me. Everywhere I turned I saw the girl's eyes. Emerging out of the shadows thrown by the trees. Blooming up in the flowers wreathing the forest floor. Glistening within the craters of the moon. I see those green eyes until the sun rises. Then Cato shouts.
"Oh, shoot. Run!" And he pushes me forward. I glance over my shoulder and those green eyes fade in the face of terror. A wall of fire is descending on us, spitting smoke and ash into the air. We run, stumbling through the forest and Cato keeps his hand on the small of my back, propelling me around trees and boulders. I choke on the smoke and keep on running. We burst into the lake with huge splashes of water, unharmed.
I laugh at the pure joy of survival and throw my arms around Cato as the bubbling giggle turns into a sob. I'm alive. He's alive. It doesn't last long. Cato orders us back into the woods as soon as the flames die down, anxious to take down weakened competitors.
I try to slow him down because I'm starting to see those green eyes again, but he won't listen. He keeps on going. He shakes off my hand. His brown eyes skim over my like I'm nothing.
Suddenly, he started to run, and we followed.
"There!" Cato shouts. It's the girl from 12. Lover Boy gulps. She's treed above us with a burnt leg. Easy kill. That means Cato will torture her like the girl with the green eyes. I turn away before the blood begins to flow.
Cato tries to reach her for a while. I give him my bow, but he still can't shoot her. He orders me to go up the tree and I actually go because I think he still loves me. it's the Games. Of course he's angry and annoyed. Finally, even Cato gives up and lets us sleep. I lay down beside him and lay my head on his shoulder and stare at 12 up in her tree. She stares back at me. I wonder if I'll be seeing her eyes next.
That night I drown in blood and watch the girl with the green eyes die. I watch Cato die.
Then the real nightmare begins. There's a million of them, biting, stinging, stabbing me with their poisonous. I million golden bugs the color of amber. I million little minions. I hear screams. I think one might be my own. Cato, where are you? You promised to protect me. Through swollen eyes I reach out to him, but he's running away, turning his back on me, and I finally see. As the darkness seeps in, I finally realize he never loved me at all. I was always his tool, a toy. He used me.
The last thing I see is his back.