Chapter One: The Volunteer

The very best part about the reaping is that I can sleep in.

On a normal morning, I'm training with Brutus by 5:00. It's the same every day. For ten hours, I train, because that's who I am. Out of everyone in District Two, I'm by far the most dedicated to my dream.

This year, I, Clove Flair, am going to win the Hunger Games.

Maybe I should be frightened. But there's really no point. There are only two possible outcomes of the Games: I win, or I die. If — no, when — I win, everyone will be proud of me. I'll have a nice house and pretty dresses and everything else I want.

But if I die, there won't be anything to worry about regardless.

I roll over in my bed, still half asleep. It's so nice, not having to even think about getting out of bed until almost 7:00. The reaping doesn't start until 8:30.

Still, I really ought to get up. Basil Shay's sneering face is what finally convinces me to drag myself out of bed and into the kitchen. Basil, who was my best friend when I was very little, knows I'm going to volunteer this year. And after our fallout ten years ago, she'll do anything to kill my dream.

And I can't let that happen.

To be able to volunteer for the Games, I have to be both the fastest and the prettiest. That really only matters if there are others who are going to try to steal my spotlight, but who cares? None of them could hope to compete with me.

"Mother!" I call out. "I'm up!"

My mother walks into the kitchen to stand next to me. Let me just say that she is really the most amazing person in the world, and it's definitely not because of her sunny personality. Actually, she can be one of the meanest people I know. But she's a victor. My mother won the forty-seventh Hunger Games when she was just fifteen. She wanted me to volunteer, to win, at the same age, and I honestly tried. But someone else beat me to it.

This is my second-to-last chance to go to the Capitol and win the Games. I'm seventeen now, and I don't want to risk waiting another year, because then it could be too late. Besides, next year is the Quarter Quell, and who knows how that will affect the odds?

Now my mother is just standing in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee and looking at me critically.

"What?" I ask somewhat defensively.

"You look terrible," she says. I want to sink through the floor. "Go. Get dressed and do your hair."

I put thoughts about my mother out of my head as I step into my new dress. It's white and silky with light green thread that forms an intricate pattern at the bottom few inches of the skirt. Then I tie a pale pink ribbon around my waist, and I'm almost perfect.

I spend the next half-hour styling my long dark hair into perfect curls. When I'm satisfied, I walk back into the kitchen to find my mother cleaning the dishes. When she sees me, she gives me a half-smile and nods her head in approval.

!

Ten minutes later, I find myself in between my parents, arriving at the square. Heads turn our way. My dad is a victor too, though not as well-respected as my mother. While my mother won her Games seemingly with neither effort nor feeling, my dad nearly lost to a puny little girl from District Ten. In the end, though, he managed to overpower her.

We make it to the reaping just in time, although I've never really understood why it's necessary to listen to Mayor Galbroh recite the history of Panem. We all know what happened.

Apparently there used to be some place called North America. There was a war, though, that tore it apart. Our country, Panem, was created after a lot of disasters, both natural and manmade. Panem used to be a Capitol that was surrounded by thirteen districts, but during the Dark Days — the rebellion of the districts against the Capitol — District Thirteen was destroyed. Now, as punishment, the remaining districts are forced to compete every year in the Hunger Games.

I listen to Mayor Galbroh say all this without anything really registering. I've heard it too many times before. Instead I let my mind wander, thinking about what my strategy will be, to ensure that I'm the first volunteer. I'm not too worried. Then I start to think about who my competition will be.

In most of the districts, the Hunger Games are what they were intended as: a horrible punishment. That's because their tributes almost never stand a chance. In the Games, each district provides two tributes, a boy and a girl, age twelve to eighteen. They then compete in the Hunger Games, where they fight to the death. It's thrilling, especially when it comes down to the final five or so tributes. The fights are epic, and it's best when, of course, someone from District Two wins.

Finally, Mayor Galbroh finishes his repetitive speech. He ends by reading the list of previous victors from District Two. People glance at me when my parents' names are called. I smirk back at them. Our district has had fifteen victors so far, and I will be the sixteenth.

Then the mayor introduces our escort, Sparkle Trix. Today her hair is a shockingly vivid purple, and she's wearing a suit that is a sickly green color. She bounces from her chair into a standing position, and practically skips to the podium.

"Isn't this exciting!" she exclaims, more making a statement than asking a question. "The day has finally arrived, it's time to pick our lucky tributes for the seventy-fourth Hunger Games!"

The huge crowd – the entire population of District Two – screams assent. I feel my lips turning up into a dangerous smile as I tense, ready to push through the whole crowd if it comes to that.

I'm not letting my mother down again.

Sparkle Trix skips to the reaping ball that holds the name of every girl in District Two that is applicable for the Hunger Games. I cross my fingers but don't close my eyes. That could cost me precious time if I have competition.

Sparkle draws a slip of paper from the massive glass ball and crosses back to the podium. At this point my heart is pounding in my throat; my name can't be drawn. If it is, I'll have no chance. Someone will volunteer for me in a heartbeat, and the reaping winner can't refuse a volunteer. It's in the rules. I can't be chosen.

"Arriah Elloy!"

I don't allow myself to feel any relief, to feel anything at all but determination. I push my way through everyone who stands between me and the stage, not stopping until I'm right in front of Mayor Galbroh and Sparkle Trix. I shout out, "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

Arriah Elloy is staring daggers at me. I can't help smiling smugly at her. I've finally done it—I'm going to be a tribute! Except the mayor hasn't said anything…

My brief moment of concern passes when Sparkle beams at me. "Excellent! Come on up." I giddily climb the stairs onto the stage. I did it.

Giddiness turns to elation when I see Basil Shay's furious expression. Ha. She looks like she'd happily kill me right now if she had the chance. My grin is impossibly wide as I picture her getting her throat ripped out by Enobaria Klu, one of our previous victors. Enobaria also happens to be mentoring this year—I get a glimpse of her pointy gold teeth as I walk as calmly as I can manage to Sparkle, who beams at me again. She looks as thrilled as I feel.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Clove Flair," I say happily.

"Well, you look very excited to be here, Clove, and I know we're all looking forward to watching you in the Games." She turns to the crowd and cries, "Let's give a big round of applause to Clove Flair, our newest tribute!"

Most people cheer (the exceptions being some of the other girls who hoped to gain a spot in the Games), and the sound is honestly more bloodthirsty that supportive. I'm momentarily caught off guard as I realize that none of them will really care if I die. But I brush the thought away; of course I won't die. I'll win, and they'll all adore me.

I've made it through the hardest part: earning a spot in the Games. I stand before my people in my pretty white dress, and confidence surges through me.

I will win.

Okay, I'm really excited about this story. I'm not sure why I decided to write it, but Clove has always been my favorite Career... again, I don't know why. Anyway, I started writing this a while ago, before I made my account, and I have eight chapters done (they get longer, don't worry). I'm going to update about once a week, but it'll be more if I get good reviews! :)

Yes, review, please!

~What the Quell