Alec's shirt itches against his neck. It's hot and scratchy and the sun makes the fabric too warm against his skin. He tries to pull at the collar but Mom pushes his hand down and gives him a hard look. It doesn't stop the itching, or the hot hot sun, but Alec knows not to complain. The mountains endure and so should Alec.
The crowd is big, lots of people in nice clothes. Lots of Peacekeepers, like Dad and Uncle Paul, bright white suits that shine bright in the sun. The ground shimmers, the concrete moving like water. But it's not water because people are standing on it and they're not falling down. Everyone looks at the big stage with the people on it, or the big screens next to the stage, but they don't move. Alec frowns and stares at the ripples in the air.
He's supposed to be quiet — Creed is quiet, standing next to Dad, and he's wearing itchy clothes but he's not fussing because he's older and he's Creed and Alec is only Alec — but Alec can't help it. He turns his face close to Mom's ear so he can be quiet and asks, "Why is the ground swimming?"
"Alec!" Mom holds up one finger, one finger for one strike, and it's not even lunchtime yet. "Don't make me tell you again. This is Reaping Day. You know what Reaping Day means."
"Silence," Alec says carefully. It's a hard word, all those s-sounds, and harder because his tongue keeps trying to slip between his teeth but Dad says that's not proper speech.
"And why is that?" Mom prompts him, even though that means more talking and not silence at all.
"Silence means respect," Alec says, and this time Mom nods. She lifts him higher in her arms, and Alec holds onto her neck and presses his mouth shut hard enough that his lips hurt.
Beside them Creed stands still and silent and respectful just like good boys do, and Dad reaches down and lays a hand on the top of his head. Creed straightens his shoulders and lifts his chin, just a little, and Dad smiles. He doesn't smile at Alec very much, but that's because Alec isn't good like Creed. He asks too many questions.
The square gets quieter in a noisy way as more people show up. It's more people than Alec has ever seen together, all standing with their shoulders touching, and none of them are talking but that's why it feels so noisy. All those people, there should be words and laughing but there isn't, and all the words that nobody says fill up the air until Alec wants to hide in Mom's shoulder. He doesn't, though, because Creed isn't hiding and Alec wants to be like Creed.
Alec spots Uncle Paul and Aunt Julia across the way, with Selene standing in between them. Aunt Julia holds her hand even though Selene keeps squirming and wriggling her arm, and she has a big scowly face on like when she broke the cookie jar. But then Uncle Paul looks down, and he gives Selene a look that's a frown in the eyebrows but a tiny twitching smile at the mouth. She stops still and turns on the big eyes and sweet smile that she saves for grownups, and Uncle Paul gives her another look that's stern until he winks one eye, just a little. Selene stops wiggling and looks back at the stage, actually behaving now.
Alec is glad Selene is over there. If she were here she'd probably say something really funny really quiet and make Alec laugh and then Dad would make his disappointed face.
After a while a man walks up onto the stage who makes Alec's eyes go big like dinner plates. He looks like a bird, not a real bird but one of the pretend ones in Alec's colouring books when he uses all the crayons. He's got hair that's green and orange and blue and clothes made out of feathers, and Alec looks at Dad to see what he thinks. Dad doesn't like people who are ostentatious. Sure enough Dad's mouth has gone flat and one side of his nose is higher than the other, but he doesn't say anything.
It's not good but Alec stops listening when the man talks. The words are big and fluffy like his hair, and his voice goes all high in places and it hurts Alec's ears. When they get home later Creed will have to repeat the speeches and answer Dad's questions about what happened, but Alec isn't old enough for that yet. It's okay if he doesn't listen. He just has to stay awake and be silent.
"And then he said 'This is how we remember our past'," Creed says, bouncing in his seat. He hasn't touched his lunch but for once Dad isn't telling him to eat up because there are starving children in Twelve. "'This is how we safeguard our future'."
"Good," Dad says, and he lets Creed take another slice of apple from the plate on the table. "That's very important for you to remember."
It's not Alec's turn to talk but this is boring, and he already finished his lunch and his milk and he wants to get down but he can't until everyone is done. "I liked the shiny part," he bursts out.
Dad looks at him, one eyebrow up because Alec interrupted, but then he just says, "What do you mean, the shiny part?"
"At the end," Alec says, encouraged. "There were boys and there were girls and they stood on the big high thing. And the sun came out and everything was all shiny and gold and everybody looked happy. I liked that part."
Dad actually smiles, and he picks up a big chunk of apple and holds it out to Alec, but not quite far enough for him to reach. "Why do you think they were shiny, Alec?"
Oh. That's a hard question. Alec frowns, chews on his lip until Mom clucks her tongue and taps her mouth to remind him to stop. "They're shiny because they're special," Alec says, but that's obvious. "Because — because —"
The Fifty-Eighth Animal Hunger Games, the man said, and Alec can't count to fifty-eight and he didn't see any animals or anyone who was hungry, but he knows what games are. He knows what you have to do when you play a game. "Because they won!" Alec bursts out, and Dad hands over the piece of apple. "They're shiny because they're the winners."
"Because they're the Victors," Creed corrects him in his 'it's okay because I'm older' voice, and Alec would glare but the apple is crisp and tart and tasty. He shoves more bites in his mouth so he can't stick out his tongue. "People who win the Games aren't just winners, are they Dad, they're Victors."
"That's right," Dad says. "You boys behaved very well today. I'm proud of you."
Creed grins and takes a big bite of his potatoes, finally, even though they're probably cold now. Meanwhile it's a good thing Alec is all done eating because Dad being proud makes him swell up inside like a balloon, if balloons were filled with light and bubbles and not just air.
Victors, Alec reminds himself, putting the word in his head and rolling it around like clay in his hands. He has to remember the word because it's big and heavy and important like Dad's rifle. He has to remember because Dad says one day Creed will stand up on that stage where the tall pretty boy and the tall pretty girl stood today. One day Creed will play the Hunger Games and come home a Victor, shiny and gold like the others.
Alec hopes that when Creed is the Victor he remembers that Alec likes apples, and will bring him home a whole basket full.
The leaves rustle in the summer breeze. Alec grips the branch with his knees and lets go with his hands, falling backward and upside down as the blood rushes to his head. This way the world is different, strange, blue ground that stretches up into a bright green hat, and the buildings point down from the sky like cave crystals.
He swings, extending his arms as far as they will go and spreading out his fingers, straining until his muscles ache, but he can't reach the ground. He'll probably never get tall enough to reach that far, and probably Creed won't either. It's kind of nice to think about something that even Alec's older brother won't be able to do no matter how good at everything he is.
"What are you doing?"
The voice startles him, but Alec has practice with not jumping when people come up without warning so he doesn't lose his grip and fall. He opens his eyes to see Selene, feet planted firmly in the green sky, staring at him with one eyebrow higher than the other.
"Nothing," Alec says. Selene lives in the big house next door, and her parents and Alec's parents might be friends and they might be almost the same age, but Selene does whatever she wants and she doesn't have a big brother to do it all better first. She wouldn't get it if he tried to explain about wanting to stretch until he reaches the ground so he can pretend he's touched the sky.
"You're weird," Selene says, but she thinks everybody is weird so that's fine. "Where's Creed?"
"He's down at the creek," Alec says. They play all sorts of games there usually, but Creed's seventh birthday is coming and all he wants to do is play tributes all the time. Alec is tired of it but he can never come up with a better game when Creed asks.
Selene crosses her arms, frowning at him. "Come down. It's weird trying to talk to your upside-down face."
Alec considers arguing for a minute, but Selene is bigger and she hits hard and if Alec hits her back then Dad will get him in trouble. He's not allowed to hit girls until he joins the Program, and that's two summers away. In the end it's not worth it to argue with Selene, so he rocks with his knees and pulls himself up until his hands close around the branch, then jumps down.
"I'm bored," Selene says, giving the sort of look that means Alec should know what to do about it. If he doesn't she'll come up with something, and it's always fun and usually scary and half the time they end up in trouble. Or at least Alec does; all Selene has to do is give Uncle Paul big eyes and he laughs and sends her on her way. It must be nice.
Alec doesn't feel like getting into trouble today. His skin itches like he has bugs inside, and that means he might like it a little more than he should and might not be able to say sorry properly. "Let's find Creed," he says instead. "He'll think of something good to play."
Selene nods and falls into step. Dad and Uncle Paul aren't really brothers but they look like they could be, both tall and dark-haired with bright blue eyes, except Uncle Paul is bigger and a little bit softer around the eyes where Dad is lean and looks like a hawk. Creed and Selene look like they could be siblings too, both of them tall and strong with colouring like their fathers. Alec is somewhere in the middle, dark hair like his father but with his mother's eyes, and he bets he'll never be as tall as Creed.
(Mom always says it's not fair to compare because he has to wait until he's Creed's age, but that's impossible because when Alec is a year older so will Creed be. He'll always be behind forever, always be younger than Creed, and there's nothing he can do to catch up. It's not fair.)
"You look moody," Selene says after a while. 'Moody' is her favourite word right now after her mom used it on her when Selene stomped around the house in a sulk. Alec can't even remember what was wrong at the time, but probably someone told her no and meant it for once.
Alec shrugs. "I wish I was turning seven. As soon as Creed is at the Centre he's just going to talk about it all the time."
It's not just Creed, either. Ever since the last Games ended (District 4 won, and Dad said that if Two couldn't win then at least one of the other districts who worked for it was better than nothing) they've been preparing for Creed to enter the Program. He's had a new suit made for him that he'll get to wear for the first time on his visit to the Centre, and there's a big party planned for after he's accepted. All of Dad's Peacekeeper friends are invited, and every time they're out in town Dad mentions that he'll be joining the Program soon and Creed puffs up like a balloon while everyone talks about how handsome he's becoming.
One day Alec will be seven and it will be his turn, except it won't be as impressive because both Creed and Selene will have done it first. That's the problem with being the youngest.
At least this time Selene doesn't disagree. "I asked Daddy if I could watch the Games this year." She kicks at the grass, shoving her hands in her pockets. "He said no. Not until I'm ready."
Dad likes to fling that one around too, and Alec rolls his eyes, safe in the cover of the woods. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know!" Selene spits out in frustration, and she gives Alec a look that's a little less like she thinks he's made of noodles than usual. "It's totally cheating. He won't tell me what 'ready' looks like, just that he'll know what it is. But I'm not allowed to say if I think so."
"Dad always says 'when I'm older'," Alec says, though he sneaks a glance over his shoulder just to make sure Dad isn't there, listening. Complaining about his parents always sends a bit of a thrill down his spine. "But he won't say what that means either."
"That's stupid," Selene says decisively, and Alec lets out a small burst of laughter. He'll never get used to the way Selene talks about grownups like she doesn't care if they hear her. "You're getting older every single second. Next time you should just start counting to five and asking if you're old enough yet."
Alec snorts. "That's not what he meant."
"No, but it will annoy him and maybe he'll say yes just so you'll stop." Selene grins. "It works for me."
They've actually made it most of the way into the woods without Selene making a face at him or calling him boring, and so Alec doesn't point out that things work out for Selene in a way that never would for him. Instead he kicks a stray pebble toward her foot; she kicks it back, and they play an impromptu game of ball with it, racing ahead of each other along the path until they reach the creek.
One of the trees fell across the creek a while ago, and they've used it as a bridge when the water is too high to cross without getting soaked. They find Creed stretched out on his stomach, one hand dangling in the water, and he looks up when he hears them coming and waves.
"Whatcha doing?" Selene asks, dropping down onto the bank and peeling off her shoes and socks.
"Trying to catch fish," Creed says, letting his other hand fall. "When you're in the Hunger Games you have to be able to get food anywhere."
"That's the boring way to do it," Selene pronounces. She has a way of talking that makes it sound like her opinions are carved into the mountains somewhere; when Alec complained about it to Dad one time, Dad just said it was a useful skill and maybe he should try it. "I'd get a big sharp stick and stab them."
Creed grins. "Get a stick and we can see who catches a fish first?"
"You're on!" Selene rolls up her pant legs, heaves herself back to her feet, then races back into the underbrush to find a makeshift spear.
"Which way do you want to try?" Creed asks Alec. "You could probably catch a fish if you wanted. You're pretty good at being patient."
Alec shakes his head. "I'm okay."
The truth is he hates fishing, even when Dad takes them out early in the morning and the sky is a soft pastel grey-blue and the birds chirp and leap from branch to branch and nobody talks or shouts. It was fine until he caught a fish, and it flopped against the ground with its big unblinking eyes and its mouth opening and shutting in panic.
Dad handed him a rock the size of his fist and told him to hit the fish in the head with it, make it quick, only Alec's hand shook and it took three tries and the fish's head was smashed all over the ground and the rock and his fingers by the time he finished. Dad showed them how to hook their fingers in the gills and cut it open with a knife but by then Alec didn't feel like eating anymore and it sat in his stomach, heavy and churning.
(When he told Selene about it later her eyes lit up and she begged to come along next time. She caught a fish the length of her forearm and Dad smiled and ruffled her hair. Meanwhile Alec pretended to attach the hook to his line and slipped it under his seat instead, and they all teased him for catching nothing but he just shrugged and said maybe next time.)
At least here he doesn't have to worry. Even Alec knows you can't hunt fish with spears without being quiet and not moving for a long time, and Selene will get bored way before then. Maybe then they can play something else that's actually fun.
Alec moves a little way down the bank and leaves them to their contest. The other day in school they learned about beavers, how their teeth never stop growing and they always have to keep chewing, and he crouches in the soft mud at the edge of the creek and starts building a makeshift lodge. There's no way he could dam the whole creek, not unless he and Selene and Creed worked together all summer, and that's not exciting enough to keep everyone interested that long. It's fun enough piling up mud and sticks and pretending he's making a house for beavers to live in, and Alec loses himself in building until Creed and Selene give up on catching fish and wander over.
"Let's play tributes," Creed says, using the voice that sounds like he's talking for an invisible audience. "I need to practice for when I join the Program soon."
Selene catches Alec's eye behind Creed's back and rolls her eyes at him, and he grins a little at the rare moment of camaraderie. "Fine, but you don't get to be the leader this time. You got to be leader last time and it's my turn."
"All right," Creed says, waving a hand. "We should find shelter in case the weather turns bad."
"I just said you're not the leader!" Selene shoves him, and Alec laughs when Creed looks sheepish. "Fire first, then shelter."
They play tributes all afternoon, and the game ends when it's time to head in for supper and all three of them are named the Victors because it was too hard to choose just one winner. Selene weaves each of them crowns out of green branches, and they head back through the woods together.
Dad is waiting out on the front porch for them, and Selene runs up to him, fearless as always. "Hi Uncle Joe," she calls out. "Can I stay for supper? We all won the Hunger Games and we need a victory feast."
Dad looks down at her and laughs, straightening her crown as it slipped over one ear. He never smiles like that at Alec; Alec can't ever tell if it's because Selene is a girl or because she's not Dad's responsibility. Uncle Paul and Aunt Julia rarely scold Alec when he's at their house, either. "I think that can be arranged," he says. "All three of you, hm? That seems a little unprecedented."
"We fought very well," Creed adds. "There were mutts and snakes and trees that tried to eat us but we never gave up. The Capitol rewards those who fight with honour."
"That they do," Dad says. "Well, come on in, then, and wash up. The blood of victory is honourable, yes, but maybe not at the dinner table."
Alec's throat tightens the way it always does when Dad talks like that. He doesn't mind blood — Aunt Julia is a doctor at the big District Hospital, and Alec likes to hear stories about the people she's saved — but it sounds different when it's full of big important words like this.
Selene doesn't seem to notice. She lifts her leaf crown from her head and sets it on the railing, giving it a pat like a baby she's tucked in for the night, and she looks up at Dad with her best big-eyed face. "Since we're all special Victors, could we get cookies before dinner?"
If Alec asked for a cookie before dinner Dad would just stare him down until Alec changed his mind, without even having to say a word. With Selene he raises an eyebrow. "You think you deserve pre-dinner cookies, do you?" he says.
'Do you deserve it?' is one of Dad's favourite games. It turns Alec's stomach into jelly and sets his heart thumping, but Selene only grins up at him and plants her hands on her hips. "Yes!" she declares brightly. She says it as though there's no arguing, like Dad asked her if the sun is yellow or the mountains high. "The Victor, bathed in riches, serves as a reminder of the Capitol's generosity and forgiveness." Selene rattles off the words that they've all memorized since they were old enough to understand words, but then she keeps going. "But there are three of us and that's a lot of riches, so I think just cookies would be okay."
Dad lets out a funny-sounding cough. "I see. Creed, what do you think?"
"Cookies are a good reward," Creed says. "We earned it."
Dad nods solemnly, then turns to Alec. "And what do you think, Alec? Do you deserve a snack before dinner?"
No, Alec thinks immediately. No snacks before dinner is a rule, and all they did was play in the woods and pretend to fight mutts and build shelters. It's just a game, it's not real, and Dad makes the disappointed face at Alec all the time even when he tries for real. But if he says no then that's no for everyone, Alec knows how it works. The game says there are three pretend Victors, and if Alec doesn't deserve it then why should they allow two?
All he has to do is say yes, but Dad's eyes burn into him and he turns smaller and smaller until he's almost surprised he doesn't shrink down into the grass like a bug. His throat sticks and it's just a cookie but it isn't, it's a test. Everything with Dad is a test. Alec swallows, and that's when Selene steps in, rolling her eyes at him. "Yes," she says for him, giving Alec a shove. "You don't have to be modest when you're a Victor, right Uncle Joe? Everybody knows you're the best."
"True," Dad says, and Alec nearly chokes as he releases the breath he's been holding. "But there is a difference between modesty and humility, Selene. Modesty means pretending you're lower than you are, and you're right that a Victor never has to do that. Humility means knowing your place. You can be the greatest Victor who ever lived but you still have to serve the Capitol."
Alec and Creed hold themselves steady, used to Dad when he talks about important things, but Selene shifts her weight, one foot scuffing against the porch step. Dad looks at her again, then snorts and tousles her hair. "I know, sometimes grownups talk too much," he says. "Go, have your cookies, but remember that even Victors must eat their vegetables."
They head in toward the kitchen, Selene grinning. "I don't know how you talk to him like that," Alec says. His chest still feels too tight, but Dad is amused and Alec can't ever make him laugh but Selene can, and dinner tonight will be happy. "If I tried he'd get so mad."
Selene scoffs as she climbs up onto the counter to get the cookies. "If you're too scared to ask for cookies, I'll get two and give you one," she promises. It's such a Selene thing to say that Alec can't help laughing.
"You do deserve it," Creed says to Alec, so serious. "Dad wouldn't ask you if you didn't."
Alec doesn't answer, and when Selene hands him his cookie he stares at it, turning it over in his hands while the edges crumble into his palms. Selene eyes him. "If you don't want yours, I'll eat it," she says. Alec glares and stuffs the whole cookie into his mouth, and Selene bursts into giggles.
"Race you to the sink!" Creed says, pushing them both out of the way. Selene takes off after him, and Alec swallows, wipes his mouth, and follows.
The day of Creed's seventh birthday, Dad wakes Alec by rapping on the frame of his bedroom door. "Up," Dad says, and Alec scrambles to sit up and look awake, keeping his hands at his sides even though his eyes itch and beg for rubbing because that will only make them red and watery. "Breakfast, then we're taking Creed over to the Centre to enrol him. Your brother was awake an hour ago."
Alec swallows a yawn so hard his entire jaw trembles, but Dad doesn't say anything. "What about calisthenics?"
Dad waves a hand. "Not this morning. You can do them when you get back, but this is important. I want you downstairs and ready in five minutes."
"Yes sir," Alec says, and after Dad leaves he lets out a jaw-cracking yawn just because he can. Yesterday he and Creed and Selene spent the afternoon out swimming at the pond, and the pink patch of sunburn across his shoulders has started flaking. Alec wastes a good minute picking at the skin and twisting around trying to catch sight of it in the mirror, but finally he gets hold of a good, wide piece and peels it off in one go. It sends a shivery feeling all through him as the dead skin pulls back with a light tearing sound, and Alec holds the piece up to the window and stares at the thin patterns before remembering the time.
The skin goes in the trash can, and hopefully tomorrow it peels more so Alec can sneak into Creed's bed and put another piece on his pillow. Alec pulls on his clothes and splashes cold water over his face and on his hair to make it stop sticking up quite so much, then races downstairs. He's lost track of the minutes, but Dad doesn't look at him or tap his watch and that means Alec made it.
When Creed comes downstairs Alec has to shove half a piece of toast in his mouth to stop the giggles because he's wearing a shirt that buttons up all the way to the neck and the kind of pants that wrinkle if you're not careful. Alec doesn't have any clothes like that, even for important days like the Reaping, and Creed's carefully-blank face says he's not too sure about it either. Alec stops being quite so jealous about the big-boy suit.
"There he is," Dad says proudly, resting a hand on Creed's shoulder, and suddenly the toast gets stuck halfway down to Alec's stomach and pokes him hard. "Now you look like a man. Today is a big day, Creed, I hope you're ready."
"Yes sir," Creed says, standing up tall and holding up his head. After Dad tells him to go eat his breakfast Creed slips his chair across the table from Alec. "The shirt is itchy," he whispers. "I keep thinking I'm choking 'cause it's pushing on my neck."
"You're just feeling the weight of responsibility," Alec whispers back, grinning when Creed sputters into his orange juice. "Get ready, Mr. Centre."
After breakfast they fight for a spot over the sink like it's any normal day, and Alec nearly chokes on his toothbrush when Creed shoves him sideways. He retaliates with a hard push that sends Creed into the wall, knocking his head hard enough to make him wince. Alec leans in to say sorry, panic fluttering in his chest — if he's hurt Creed and he can't do the tests at the Centre then Alec won't be sitting down for a week at least — but then Creed levers himself up and hits Alec with an elbow strike right to the cheek.
"Ow!" Alec bursts out at the same time as Creed, who stares at his elbow in betrayal. Alec spits out the last of his toothpaste and rinses out his mouth, checking his reflection. He'll have a bruise later, but at least it's his face and not Creed's today.
Creed pokes at his arm with a frown, and Alec glares. "Sorry I hurt your elbow with my face when you hit me," Alec says, trying his best to use the voice Dad saves for people who break the law and try to tell the Peacekeepers why they shouldn't get sent to the penal mines.
"It's not my fault your face is made of bones," Creed shoots back. "At the Centre they'll teach me how to do that without hurting myself."
Alec's stomach drops just a bit at the thought of Creed bigger and older and armed with special techniques, but he catches hold of himself and forces the fear away. "You can't use Centre stuff on me before I've been there," he says, and he might not be confident all the time but this, at least, he knows. "That's cheating."
Creed wraps an arm around Alec's neck. "I wouldn't do it anyway. Not until you can fight back properly."
He grins, big and cheeky and absolutely asking Alec to push him down the stairs for revenge, but today they can't. Instead Alec turns his head and licks all the way down Creed's arm, then breaks free and jumps the last of the steps while Creed squawks in outrage.
The Centre headquarters is big and white and dwarfs everything else around it. Alec has seen pictures in books of buildings in Three that stretch up toward the sky, all tall and skinny and looking like they should fall over, and the Centre isn't like that. It's not that high really, but it stretches out and makes everything else around it feel small.
Dad says that the biggest man in the room isn't about size, it's about presence, and that's how the Centre building feels. Alec stops at the bottom of the steps and stares up, and up, and up, and the sky shines bright and blue behind the white marble and he has to take a second just to breathe.
"This is made from some of the finest stone in the district," Dad says from behind him, not even scolding Alec for wasting time. Then again Creed is right there beside him, craning his neck and gazing at the building in awe. He's already been here once, too, for testing, so Alec feels a bit better. "To find better stone you'd have to go in to the Capitol itself."
Dad lets them stand and gape for another minute, then raps them both on the head and ushers them forward.
Inside Alec and Creed wait on a bench in the lobby while Dad and Mom head into the front office to talk with the people inside. Creed sits up tall and straight, and every now and then he sticks his finger under the collar of his shirt and pulls it away from his neck. "I hate this shirt," he says with feeling. "I hope they don't need me to run or anything in it because I'm going to stop breathing and die."
Alec glances at the door, but Dad is still talking with the man behind the desk and hasn't looked their way. "You know what they say, Creed," Alec says, giving Creed his best impression of Dad's serious stare.
Creed sighs and slouches for a second before correcting his posture. "I know, I know, it builds character."
The grownups talk for at least half a forever, but finally Dad and Mom stand up and walk back out to the lobby with a lady dressed in white. Creed and Alec jump to their feet and stand to attention; Alec stretches himself up as high as he can go, straining his neck and shoulders, except Creed notices and does the same thing. By the time Dad makes it over they're both on their toes with their chins pointed toward the ceiling, and Dad gives them both a look that says to cut it out right now.
The Centre lady doesn't notice, or if she does she doesn't say anything. "Creed?" she says, looking down, and she has the kind of smile that's very white and very shiny and would look good on posters. "We're all set now. Would you like to come see the training room?"
"Yes ma'am!" Creed smiles, big and wide and disarming. No grownup has ever been able to resist that smile, and the lady isn't any different because her face changes, stops looking quite so much like she's doing everything for invisible cameras. Dad lets out a small huff of breath through his nose because Creed has all his teeth showing, including the missing one that makes him look like a baby, but the lady only waves a hand for Creed to start walking with her.
Alec watches them go through the big door at the end of the hall. He presses his hands hard against his sides while jealousy climbs around inside his head, poking for a way out.
Dad looks down, and Alec must not be doing so good at keeping his face calm because Dad drops a hand to his shoulder. "It will be your turn soon enough," he says. "This is what Creed was born to do, Alec. Try to be happy for him."
"I am," Alec says, and he does his best to mean it even though he'll never be as old as Creed or as tall and strong and mature as Creed, and one day Creed will join the Hunger Games and Alec never will. Alec knows more about Creed's destiny than anyone else. "Creed" is not just a name, it's a statement of faith, Dad said once, but when Alec asked what Alec meant it just means 'Alec', and that doesn't mean anything.
Alec twists around in the car, staring at the Centre through the back window until finally Dad turns a corner and the gleaming white building disappears.
That afternoon Mom drives back to the Centre with Alec to pick up Creed after his testing, and he's talking when he gets in the car and talking all the way through the car ride home and still talking when they get in the house. By the time they're home, where Dad is getting ready for Creed's birthday and Centre party, Alec has spent more time imagining stuffing a pillow in Creed's face than he has the rest of his life.
The Centre is big and shiny and fun and has a gym the size of their school, and there are ropes to climb and balls to throw and a track to run around. They had races and Creed was the fastest; they played dodgeball just like at school only they were allowed to throw the balls as hard as they want and nobody got in trouble for hitting someone in the face, and Creed was team captain and told the other kids what to do and they won the game, of course they did. He only came second in the rock climbing contest but that's because the kid who won lived in the quarries and went rock-climbing up the cliffs every day, and Creed already asked her to show him how to do it next time and soon he'll be better. There were snacks, cake and cookies and fresh fruit for everyone, and it was the best best best thing ever and Creed wants to go back every day forever.
A few of Dad's Peacekeeper friends showed up early to help get ready for the party, but they're all sitting around Creed asking him questions while Mom does all the preparation. "He'll owe me one," Mom says when Alec asks if she's not mad. "Why don't you carry out the plate of crackers, Alec, and maybe they'll feel bad once they realize you're working."
Alec does, but nobody notices, and Mom sighs, rolls her eyes in the direction of the living room, and tells him to go play until it's time to eat.
Alec takes the ball outside and spends time kicking it at the wall of the house, listening to the sharp ping of the rubber bouncing off the limestone and the hollow thump when it hits his foot on the way back. It's boring by himself. Alec has always played with Creed his whole life every day, and now every day Creed will have four hours at the Centre while Alec has to figure out how to play on his own.
He gets bored of the wall and starts using a tree instead, and that's a little better because the bark is uneven and it's harder to predict where the ball is going to bounce on the way out. Alec chases the ball around the yard, and he's breathing a bit faster when Selene pops out and says "Hey," and he nearly jumps.
"Hey," Alec says. He's got the hang of it more now, and he kicks the ball so that it hits the tree and angles toward Selene. "Not going inside?"
"Nope." Selene kicks it back, but it flies wide and they race after it. Selene beats Alec, like she always does, and celebrates by aiming the ball at his head. "It was cool but then he just kept talking. It got boring so I came out here."
Alec catches the ball and throws it hard at Selene's face, and she knocks it out of the way with a grin. "Yeah and everybody in there has been in the Program. They all know that stuff already."
"Yeah," Selene says with feeling. "Like I said, boring. I mean you're boring too, but not the talking kind." Alec scowls at her — just because he doesn't push people out of trees or try to set the grass on fire with Dad's borrowed glasses — but Selene only grins wider. "You know what's not boring? Climbing up onto the roof to see if we can spy on them through the windows."
Alec hesitates, but 'boring' rankles in his head and makes that weird itchy feeling come back. "Okay," he says. "We should go up over the porch. The roof is lower there, and we can climb up on the railing."
"Ha!" Selene claps her hands. "See, you can be fun sometimes."
Mom finds them later, both on the roof with Selene hanging over the side and Alec sitting on her legs to keep her from slipping. "I don't even want to know," Mom says, and Alec freezes but Selene only gives her a jaunty upside-down wave. "Come inside, it's time to eat, and I really don't want to explain to your parents how you fell off our roof and died, Selene."
"I wouldn't die," Selene says cheerfully, and she shimmies her way back up with Alec's help. "Alec's fallen out of a tree higher than that, and he just broke his arm."
Alec makes a face at her feet. Selene likes to tell this story as though Alec decided to fall for fun, when really she shoved him off the branch herself. Alec still remembers the jolt of pain that sucked the air right out of him, and Selene's white, white face as she stood over him demanding to know if he'd died. He never told anyone that Selene pushed him because nobody likes a tattletale, but Aunt Julia guessed anyway. She'd set his arm and fixed it up with a cast and sling and then called Selene in to talk to her in a very serious voice, and after that Selene hadn't played quite so rough for a while.
"I don't want you breaking any arms, either," Mom says dryly. "Now go wash up, people are waiting."
Having Selene there makes dinner a little better. There are too many people for the table, so everyone gets a plate and finds a seat around the house to chat. Creed stays with Dad and Uncle Paul and Dad's other best friends, but Alec and Selene steal a whole tray of snacks and manage to hide with it behind the couch. It's much better than sitting alone, dropping crumbs onto the floor in the hopes someone notices him because even being scolded is better than being ignored, and finally the bad mood takes its claws out of Alec's shoulders and flies away.
That night after lights out, when everyone has gone home and Alec and Creed have finished their nightly calisthenics and gotten ready for bed, Creed slips down from the top bunk and flops down next to Alec. "Hey," he says. "Were you mad at me before?"
Alec frowns in the darkness. He rolls onto his back and stares at the bottom of the mattress above him, lifts his legs until his feet touch the slats and pushes up. "I don't know," he says. Mad is easy, it's a hot ball in his stomach that makes him want to do a bunch of things he shouldn't, and whatever happened to him this afternoon feels a lot more messy.
"You'll be seven soon," Creed says. "Then it will be your turn to go to the Centre and have a big party and it will be great."
Alec isn't so sure. A lot of things are only exciting the first time, and maybe turning seven and joining the Program will be like that. Dad always says that Alec can't just imitate Creed and expect everyone to be proud, he has to try even harder. But seven is a long way away and Mom likes to say that worrying never made tomorrow less terrible, it just makes today terrible, too.
"You probably won't come to my party when I turn seven," Alec says. He's kidding, and he drives his elbow into Creed's side to prove it, but the words come out a little meaner than he meant them to, like biting into a slice of lemon. "You'll have all your Centre friends and you'll be almost nine and seven will be real boring. You'll want to play with your new friends and do nine-year-old things instead."
Creed sits up fast enough he almost hits his head on the bedpost. "That's not true! I'm your brother, I'm not just going to forget you! Why would you say that?"
Answering that would mean words, and right now the words keep tangling in Alec's mind, so instead he shoves Creed off the bed and rolls after him. Creed yelps when he hits the floor, then howls when Alec lands on top of him, and he flips them over and starts a wrestling match. They bang into the bed and the dresser and one of the desks, and Alec still has no words but the gross feelings fade a little and he starts laughing instead. Creed smacks his head hard off the bottom of the bed and spits out a bunch of words that one of Dad's friends said when he accidentally dropped firewood on his foot during a cookout earlier that summer, and then he's laughing too.
"What are you boys doing?" Dad demands from the doorway. They must teach how to move quietly at the Centre or the Peacekeeping Academy because Dad is big but Alec never hears him coming.
Alec freezes for a second, then he and Creed spring apart, breathing hard. Blood trickles down from Creed's nose, shiny and black in the dim light from the hallway, and when Alec pokes the skin under his eye he winces at the twinge of pain. That's both sides of his face now.
"Who started this?" Dad asks.
"I did," Alec says immediately. He's not sure really — he pushed Creed first but it was Creed and the party and the Centre and everything else that made him do it — but it's never good to hesitate. Except that Creed says it at the same time, then makes a gross snorting sound as he tries to hold back his laughter through his bloody nose. Alec presses both hands over his mouth.
Dad shakes his head. "My boys," he says, and he gives Alec the sort of look that says if Creed weren't here he'd be in more trouble. "Wipe those grins off your faces and get to sleep, both of you. Creed has a big day tomorrow. Don't keep him up, Alec."
Alec pushes himself to his feet, wobbling a little. "Yes sir. Sorry."
"I don't want your 'sorry', Alec, I want your obedience, understood?"
Alec's cheek twitches, and he makes himself stand up straight. "Yes sir," he says again, and knows better than to add another 'sorry'. One says you mean it; any more and it's just trying to get out of trouble.
They both climb back into bed, Creed with a wad of tissues held under his nose. "Sorry," he whispers after Dad leaves, his voice thick and gunky from the nosebleed.
"I don't want your 'sorry', Creed, I want your obedience," Alec hisses in a deep whisper. Creed lets out another bunch of odd, snorting half-giggles, and Alec buries his face in the pillow to stop from laughing out loud.
The giggles fade after a while and Alec rolls over to stare out at the dim shadows of their room. Earlier tonight, once dinner finished and everyone was leaving, Creed stood with Dad at the door and said goodbye to the guests while Alec hung back and helped Mom carry all the dishes into the kitchen. Look at him, Mom said to Alec, letting one hand fall to his shoulder, gripping hard enough it almost hurt. He looks like Two.
Creed did look like Two, tall and proud in his new clothes. Alec, meanwhile, had grass-stains on his knees from playing with Selene, and later he'd be scolded for ice cream around his mouth and crumbs down the front of his shirt. Whatever he'd looked like, it couldn't have been anything important.
But it's not Creed's fault that he got born first, or that he's taller or stronger or smarter. Alec sighs. "Happy birthday," he says finally, keeping his voice low.
"Thanks," Creed whispers back, then throws the balled up tissues down so they hit Alec in the face. Alec almost climbs up there to start another fight before remembering Dad's warning, so he files it away and makes a note to ask Selene for help plotting revenge later. Above him Creed snickers, and Alec makes a face in the dark.