A Clato story.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the book series "The Hunger Games." all the credit goes to Suzanne Collins.

Note: This fiction will be canon. But I will do an alternate ending in another fic. Feel free to review! (:

Warning: This will have Minor language.

*Chapter 1: The reaping- Clove's POV*

I never expected to go against my best friend in the games. Never. Cato and me were best friends. We always were since we first met in the training academy. Here in D2 we have 2 types of school. Normal school that goes from 8:00AM-Noon and our training school go from 3-6. I met Cato when I was 7 years old; he was 9 at that time. I remember walking into the academy for the first time. When I walked into the weapon room there I saw him, Cato. He turned to me, took his hand out, and spoke "You must be new. I'm Cato. Cato Leark." I smile and shake his hand. "Clove. Clove Sevina."

And that, my friends (If I want to even call you that), was a beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Since that day Cato and me were friends. He taught me how to sword fight, but I have to admit I suck at. I taught him how to throw knives, which he doesn't like and he finds knives to be "Mini swords."

Anyways back to the reaping. I put on my best outfit I had: A grey mini dress with black leggings underneath. I put on casual slippers and put a small hair bow on my hair. I never dressed this girly normally. But today being the reaping, I have to dress good.

I make my way downstairs with the rest of my family. I have 2 older sisters, Felicity and Sapphire. Both are too old for the reaping, they are 19 and 21.

"So... Going into the reaping. Planning to volunteer?" Fel says as she prepares breakfast.

"Not till I'm 18." I respond quietly. Fel sighs and responds, "Why do you even WANT to volunteer? You probably won't make it out alive."

"I trust my skill." I respond.
I suddenly see my parents enter the room. "Well, it's time for our annual 'Reaping chat,'" says my mother. Here in my house every year he have a 'Reaping chat' where we as a family have a long chat because you never know when you'll get reaped or not. We gather around our dinner table and begin. We talk about the good times we had years ago, about good old family vacations, and so much more. After around 30 minutes of chatting my father gets up, "Well, let's head to the square." He says.

We finally make it to the square. I sign in and make my way with other 15-year-old girls. I hear the 18 year olds saying how they "Want to be reaped." or how they are "going to volunteer." I turn my head at once. "Bullshit." I say to myself. Every single year they say they will go into the arena for the pride of out district. But they don't. They just want to stay here and be alive. But when I'm 18 I plan to volunteer and win. And I stay to my word.

I turn my head to Cato. He's with the 17 year olds, but he can be easily mistaken for an 18 year old. He tells me he plans on volunteering this year. But he is not exactly sure. He says depending on who's reaped. If a wimpy 12-year-old is Cato is going in. If some 18 year old is reaped Cato won't.

I turn my head as I see our escort, Annalisa Adams, walks to the stage. "Welcome, welcome, welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games!" She says with her Capitol accent. We do the same thing every single year. We watch the same video about how the games started, followed by a list of every single victor District 2 had. He had 15 within the past 73 years, more than any other district ever had. Finally, it has come the time for the reaping. Annalisa walks up to the girl's bowl and sticks her hand in. She likes to wave her hand around the bowl for ages to create suspense. After what seem eternities she dives her hand in very deep. She shoots her hand out with a tiny slip of paper in her hands. Here comes the moment of truth. She opens up the paper. I hear my heart beat race up. Then she said the name I didn't want to hear for another 3 years.
"CLOVE SEVINA!" She bellows.

My heart drops. I still need 3 years. 3 years of training can mean the difference of life and death. I see the peacekeepers grabbing me very tightly. " . ." I snap as I struggle my way out. After I break free I growl, "I can walk by myself."

I slowly make my way up the stage. My heart is starting to beat fast again. "You must be Clove." Says Annalisa. I quietly nod my head and stand as she does the boy's reaping. She does the same thing as the girls. But before she dives her hand in I hear 2 words I never wanted to hear. "I VOLUNTEER!" I turn my head and spot out Cato raising his hand. What has gotten into him? Why would we go in the arena with me? Did he not see me walk out to the stage? Did he not hear Annalisa call out my name to the whole country? "Yep, he's gone coco." I think to myself. I see Cato make his way on the stage. I look at him in disgust. We're best friends. We're not supposed to kill each other. But something in his eyes tells me he has a plan. And I oddly trust him.

(A/N: Haha this is my first chapter ^_^ Thanks for reading and please review! :D)