A/N Ok beautiful people! I was going to wait a while before writing anything else but I missed Cato and Clove too much! So I'm going to write about their childhood and how they met. Dont know how long it will be, depends on whether you guys like it! We'll see where it goes3

The racket of the nearby factories awakens me. I groan, rolling over and rubbing the remaining tendrils of sleep out of my bleary deep blue eyes.

"Cato!" My mother's voice rings out from below me. "Get up! You're going to be late again! And don't even consider skipping class, as that would be the third time this week and you're in enough trouble as it is!"

I sigh heavily and drag myself from the comfort of my bed. I detest school. There's no one there I really click with, or even talk to for that matter, although plenty of people try to be my friend. And the lessons are almost physically painful to sit through.

Dad says it's because I spend most of my time brooding in the corner, instead of socialising. The other kids find me threatning due to my tendency to pick fights. But I also catch them staring at me with a kind of awe, like they want to be like me; I'm tougher than they are. I guess I just need to feel something. It's the only thing I know how to do.

The only reason that I get out of bed each day-the only thing I've looked forward to since I was eight- is the thought of my twelfth birthday. The day I can sign up for the Training Academy.

Where I can fight without getting marched home by Peacekeepers. Without hearing the words, "You're out of control Cato." or "What the hell is wrong with you?" and the most recent, "Why are you always so angry Cato?" I never answer them. Because the truth is, I don't know why and no one even attempts to understand.

It's my birthday in two days. Almost there Cato. I tell myself over and over again. Almost there.

I yank a black t-shirt over my head and climb into a pair of ripped jeans. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I run a hand through my tousled blonde hair.

"Cato!" My mother yells again. I don't reply Simply push straight past her and march purposefully out of the door.

...

I stride confidently down the street, my head held high,arrogance written all over my face. I kick at the stones strewn across the path. The dust and pollution in the air sticks in my chest, making me cough.

When I reach the school gates I pause; I can either walk away now, or I can go in and face yet another day of total isolation and boredom. But I know how much crap I'm in an something tells me not to push it today.

So I sigh and barge my way through the gates with everyone else.

...

Once I get to the classroom, I push past the groups of people greeting each other and sit down heavily at my desk. The desks are seperated into twos, but for as long as I can remember, I've sat alone.

Our teacher, Mr Lyme, chooses this moment to enter the classroom. Mr Lyme's favourite subject is The Hunger Games, because his wife won ten years ago. This is fine by me since one day I'm going to be District Two's victor. It's what I'm meant to do.

All of the other students shoot to their desks at the teacher's entrance and start the "Good morning sir" trash.

"Ah, Cato. Nice to see you again." Mr Lyme says. Only I catch the sarcasm in his voice and I smirk at him.

Only now do I notice a girl standing slightly behind Mr Lyme. She's about my age, though I've never seen her before.

She scrutinises the gathered students through narrowed eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at anyone who dares to look her in the eye. She is quite petite in stature with long raven hair that falls in soft waves to her elbows.

She might be small but something in her expression says, 'I can't be held responsible for the damage that just talking to me might cause you.'

"Clove Tenaa." Mr Lyme gestures towards the girl. After briefly surveying the room, he adds. "You'll have to join Cato at his desk."

He looks rather concerned. As if putting the two of us together might cause more damage than we're worth. I doubt that he's wrong.

She smirks at Mr Lyme and meanders across the classroom to my-our-desk.

The attention of the classs is diverted back to the teacher now and I sneak a glance at Clove. She notices me staring and frowns for a moment before flashing me a cheeky grin from under her hair. Only then do I realise how beautiful she is. Her smile vanishes just as quickly as it appeared, but it was definitely there.

And just like that, I'm hooked.

A/N What do you think of the opening? Do you like it? Would you like to read more? See that beautiful blue box under this? Click it! I would really appreciate your feedback and you don't need a fanfiction account to submit a review. Until next week! -Abbie xx