Summary: The 74th Hunger Games with Brittany and Santana substituted in as Cato and Clove.
Santana tilted her head back and parted her lips slightly, as if she could taste the wind. In her mind, she really can. The acrid taste of blood slipped into her mouth and invigorated her. It sent adrenaline shooting through her system and made her take a shaky breath. She slid her fingers over the edge of her knife, almost as if in prayer, and then looked over her shoulder for a flash of gold. She beckoned slightly with her head for Brittany to join her.
It was time to hunt.
District 2 tended to view the law against training tributes as merely a suggestion. The Capitol never seemed to acknowledge the special academies the wealthier districts set up to mold their children into merciless predators. Maybe they turn their heads because the Careers make for good TV.
This year is different. Usually two children, a boy and a girl, are selected and placed in a training school. They live there until they are eighteen and are able to take their place in that year's Games. The two children are trained and coached and shaped until they stop resembling tributes and start looking like victors. Except, this year is different.
Brittany stood slightly apart from the argument. She let the heated words roll over her head and off of her back and watched instead. Her father gestured angrily in her direction and stepped closer to the man in the suit, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss.
Brittany frowned and looked away. She didn't understand why her father was yelling at the man from the training academy, but she recognized the tone of his voice and knew from experience that she should get out of its range.
As she slipped out of the building, she saw a flash of dark hair and stopped. A small girl, much smaller than Brittany, slouched against the wall of the building. She has the same hair color and skin tone of the other man her father is arguing with, the one not from the academy. She saw Brittany staring and scowled, which caused her smooth features to immediately shift into sharp, dangerous ones.
Brittany was so startled she took a step back and stumbled over a loose flagstone on the sidewalk. She quickly righted herself and looked fearfully over her shoulder for her father. She is supposed to be lithe and graceful; a predator in training, not a stupid kid who trips over her own feet. She would never be accepted into the academy if the man in the suit saw that.
The other girl narrowed her eyes at Brittany and stepped forward. "They're going to choose me, you know." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows; issuing a challenge.
The shock of hearing her voice flustered Brittany and she fumbled for a reply.
"I'm, uh, bigger than you. And stronger." As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The girl circled Brittany like one of the Capitol's wildcat mutts as she prodded at Brittany's lanky limbs and slowly forming adolescent muscles. Her touch sent flames arcing across Brittany's skin and she jerked away with a gasp.
The girl circled once more and then closed in, her mouth opening in what was sure to be an insult, but before she could release it, Brittany's father and the rest of the men strode out of the building doors.
She studied their faces, trying to decipher what her future holds. The man who matches Santana had a look of almost boredom on his weathered face. Her father's jaw is tight, but the anger from before is absent. The man in the suit walked over to where Brittany and the girl stood at attention. He knelt before them and looked first at Santana, then at Brittany.
Brittany took the opportunity to really look at him. He's familiar, of course. He'd been watching Brittany ever since she can remember. He's there when her father has her lifting weights or running and he watches her practice with the wooden sword her father gave her. Now is the first time she really paid attention to him, though. His face is smooth and his hair is buzzed down almost to his scalp. Brittany looked into his blank eyes, needing him to nod, smile, anything.
He looked at them so long that Brittany's stomach tied itself in knots. Please.
After what seemed like an eternity, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew a badge. It was clear, with District 2's insignia emblazoned on it, along with the name of the training academy.
It doesn't hit Brittany that there are two badges until she heard the girl's breath leave her in a giant woosh. The girl lunged forward and snatched her badge; quick as though he might take them back if she waited too long.
Brittany chanced a glance at her father before she took her own. She expected to see pride on his face, or even happiness, but all she got was an impatient nod ordering her to take the badge.
As the man walked away he pulled out a phone. Brittany heard him say, "They have years to train. One's abilities will eventually surpass the other's, and we'll weed the weaker one out. No problem."
Brittany stared down at the piece of plastic in her hands. Her fingers have already smeared across the surface and left smudgy tracks. She knew this card was the pass to everything her family wanted, and she realized that it might have an expiration date. A surge of anger rose in her chest and she whipped around to face the girl with her teeth pulled back in a snarl.
Brittany doesn't know what she was going to say, because the girl sticks out her hand and introduces herself before she can speak. She doesn't even flinch at the look on Brittany's face.
"I'm Santana." Her face was unreadable, but Brittany could see that her eyes were calculating. They were also such a rich shade of brown that they made Brittany's breath catch. Without thinking, without understanding why, Brittany was compelled to reach out and clasp the girl's, Santana's, offered hand.
As the man Brittany assumed to be Santana's father put a heavy hand on her shoulder and guided her away, Brittany swore the girl smiled at her.