"Okay class! As you all know, there is no school tomorrow, since it is reaping day. May the odds be ever in your favor!" my teacher chirped. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Reaping day sounds like the best day in the world the way she said it. When in truth, reaping day was worse than death itself.

But the truth is, people from the town, like me, normally took it as a joke. They knew that the odds are completely in their favor. Kids from the Seam normally bought tessare to feed their families, but in doing this they added their names more times. This was normally why the people in the Seam always went to the Games. So, because of this, the town kids made pretend bets on which kid from the Seam would get picked this year.

"I bet Jonah gets picked!" I heard a boy tease from the back of the room. The town kids started throwing paper at Jonah and laugh. Jonah, a kid from the Seam, walked slowly out of the room, trying to hide his sadness.

Then, I saw the girls. All trying to look beautiful, even though it was impossible in our district, 12. I heard them all whispering about the same thing as the boys.

"I hope it is Katniss that has to go. She deserves it," one girl said. I immediately got angry at them. They were too intimidated by Katniss to realize how much kindness she carries in herself. All they see is the hate and depression from her father's sudden death.

They saw me looking at them, and all the girls raised their eyebrows. They were wondering whether I would be with them or against them. I knew they were wrong. Katniss would affect so many people if she died. She didn't deserve any pain or sorrow. I spit on the floor in front of them, telling them off my way.

I looked over and saw Katniss Everdeen, walking stiffly out the door, showing that she had heard them. I tried to follow her, but ended up running into a boy in the doorway. He was way larger than I am, almost two heads taller and so much more muscular, as all boys are, so I decided that he can go first. I stepped aside and waited patiently for him to continue on his way.

"No, you first. I see you have somewhere to be," he said. I looked up to realize that I recognize him. The baker's son. His name was Peter or something. The one that I never really talked to before, but somehow saw everywhere. The one with the abnormally blue eyes and the blond curls that never seem to be perfectly even on his forehead.

I saw that his eyes were following Katniss, not looking at me, showing that he knows what I am trying to get to. I muttered a thanks and rushed out the door. I saw her long, dark braid in the crowd and rushed to her.

"Katniss!" I yelled. She turned around. There are no tears, never any tears. The only time she had cried was when her dad had been blown up in a mine. I know, because I was there when my father gave her the Medal of Valor.

But she would never cry over something as stupid as what the girls said. She knew who deserved her tears and who didn't.

"Yes, Ivy?" she asked.

"I don't think they are right."

"Excuse me?" she asked, showing curiosity. I know it is fake curiosity, she knows that I am talking about those girls. Those dumb women who don't know one thing about Panem or the world.

"You shouldn't be the one to go. And you won't go, so don't worry," I told her. She put on a brave face.

"I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about my family." She looked around and leaned in towards me, whispering, "This is Prim's first year, and I don't want her to get picked." She was trusting me with her worst fear: Prim getting hurt. This told me she could trust me. I was about as close as she had to a best friend, besides Gale Hawthorne, who I see watching us right this minute.

"Prim has one slip in thousands, she won't get picked," I assured her.

"But if she is... would I be obligated to volunteer for her?" she asked in such a scared voice I'm not sure I'm still talking to Katniss Everdeen. I was shocked that she even talked about volunteering. No one has volunteered in District 12 for as long as I can remember.

"It's whatever you feel like doing. Who has a better chance... you or Prim?" I said. She looked at me. Stormy gray eyes. Scared gray eyes. She knows she would have to volunteer. But she won't need to, because I know Prim isn't going to get picked.

"And what if I get picked; I keep my family together," she said under her breath. She was right. If she got picked or volunteered for Prim, her family would fall apart because she wasn't there. I knew that she and Gale went hunting almost every day to keep their families from starvation. I knew it was the only thing that kept the Everdeens and Hawthornes alive. She couldn't get picked. That couldn't happen.

What would happen to poor little Prim if she starved to death? Not only that, but the Hunger Games viewing is mandatory. Prim would have to watch her sister get killed. Either way, Prim is going to be hurt if Katniss goes. And I couldn't let that happen.

"Then I will help your family. Katniss, people will never let you or your family die," I told her. She smiled.

"Well, you would be the only one, but thank you, Ivy. I feel better knowing Prim won't starve," she told me, before she started shuffling awkwardly on her feet. I knew that it is time to give her some space.

"Look behind you," I whispered. She saw Gale. He turned his head away, trying to seem like he wasn't eavesdropping on our whole conversation.

I wish I could just go up and talk to him. Without being afraid. Without a reason. But I couldn't. He doesn't know who I am, and even if he did, he hates town people.

"I've got to go," she said. I saw her suppress a smile. I suppressed one to, thinking about how Gale had just been looking my way with his gray eyes.

Katniss walked away and headed towards Gale. He started smiling. He looked at her with that look in his eye. Like she's the reason he's living. I sighed, wishing someone would look at me that way.

"Hey, Catnip," I heard him say loudly. I heard her tell him to be quiet as they walk away. I turned around and headed home, because I knew Katniss didn't need me to get Prim today.

While I'm on my way home, I passed the Seam. Well, not really pass it. The Seam isn't anywhere near the mayor's house. I just like to go there. People don't seem to mind me. Sometimes, when my family doesn't know, I would sneak into the Hob with my money and buy something from every vendor. I don't want them to starve to death, and I don't use my money for anything. But, when I get to Greasy Sae's soup, I take it outside and feed it to the man who always sits outside his house; I don't want him to starve to death either.

I walked by the fence that separates us from the forest. I knew a secret spot where I can get in. The fence's electricity is never on. Sometime, I would like to go into the forest, but not yet. It's only been a few years since Madge's death. I would like to go to the pond again though. It contains some of my only happy memories.

I turned from the fence and headed home. But not before making one last stop. I stopped at the cemetery (or what we have of a cemetery) and looked at a gravestone. I sat down next to it, and looked at it for a minute. I took my sleeve and wiped off some of the dust and dirt that covers it. Madge Undersee. I wiped a tear from my eye. She died too soon.

"Well, Madge. It's reaping day already. You remember, the day one girl and boy goes to an arena to die. Remember when it was your first reaping and I was more scared than you were? I remember how you never used to be afraid. Why can't I be brave like you Madge?" I asked. Then I listened. I listened for what seemed like hours. All I heard was silence. But I know Madge is listening. She knows that I am afraid. Madge knows that my fear will never be taken away.

I was about to start talking to her again when I heard the sound of feet on the gravel behind me. I don't want to seem like a lunatic to whoever is behind me, so I pretended like I wasn't talking. Instead, I picked up the single dandelion that was growing all alone and set it on Madge's grave.

"Wish us luck, Madge," I whispered. Then I turned to see who it was that was behind me. It was the baker's son. He seemed frozen, staring at me sitting all alone in the cemetery. I gave him a slight smile. He kept walking. But before he had kept walking, he had smiled back.