"Come on Finnick, we only have two hours until the reaping," Rafe calls from the beach, his blue eyes bright with worry. I duck my head under the water, ignoring him. My name is in the ball three times. Three out of thousands. And on the off chance I do get picked, I like my chances at winning. Rafe has a reason to be worry. Right now, I have none. The sun is shining, the wind is hardly blowing, and the water is perfect. Moving is absolutely the last thing I want to do.

"Finnick," he shouts again. He's getting edgy, and when he gets edgy he gets mad. I'm not interested in making a guy the size of Rafe mad, especially when he's under so much pressure. He has his name in there 42 times since he's forced to sign up for Tesserae for his entire family of six. I'm not big on working to make other people happy, but I decide to make an exception for him today. His present from me on this beautiful Reaping Day. Besides, I will admit that I am worried for him. If he goes, he'd have a chance at coming back, but still… he's my one friend that actually likes me and not my face.

I pop my head out of the water and shout, "I'm coming." Then I swim towards shore where he's waiting, already wearing some fancy reaping outfit. He keeps running his hands through his thick hair and his face is beet red. I sigh, knowing that I should be saying something to comfort him. I don't want too, though. It seems like a waste of time. He isn't going to the Hunger Games, the odds are too against it.

"There are thousands of names in those balls, I doubt you'll get picked. You don't have to worry," I say, giving him an easy smile. Usually I can get people to relax just by smiling. It doesn't work on him today.

"You can say that. You have to be one of the safest kids in the district." I shrug. It's true, I am, but it isn't my fault.

"Work with what you got, Rafe. Now, I have to go home and get ready for this thing."

"So is this good-bye?" God, he sounds like a girl. Why have I never noticed that before?

"Quit blubbering, you aren't getting picked. If you do, some bonehead will volunteer. You aren't going to that arena."

"But, if I do-"

"Rafe. Shut it. I'll see you after the reaping."

"Finnick, please, I can feel something bad is going to happen today." I turn around sharply and stand as tall as I can, trying to get in his face.

"If you get picked, I'll go in for you. Okay? You have nothing to worry about." Then I walk away, leaving him staring after me. After a couple hundred yards, I realize that might've been stupid. Oh well, if he does get picked, he probably won't come home to be mad at me.

I sigh, knowing that he'd go on that stage and give me some sad look, and I'd end up going in for him no matter what. I couldn't live with myself if Rafe died because then his entire family would die with him. He has a disabled father and four little siblings that are relying on him. My family doesn't care about me. Going in for him would just be the decent thing to do.

I guess I'll wait until this afternoon to see how far I'll go to be decent.

"Finnick." A couple girls start walking towards me. Maria and Clover, maybe. They're in my year at school, but I don't pay any attention to them. They're both stupid blondes that haven't worked a day in their lives. All kinds of girls flock around me, it's to be expected when you look like I do, but these are the ones that I hate the most. The ones that want to go out with me to say they are, not because they like me. I haven't spoken to these girls more than five times in my entire life, and now they're smiling at me like we're best friends.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to volunteer?" I roll my eyes.

"Why would I? I've got four years left. I'll save my trip to the games for when I'm eighteen, so victory will be guaranteed." They giggle, like I said something funny. I don't think it is. I think that if I don't get picked over the next four years, I'd consider having my family hate me for the rest of my life rather than volunteering to go into the arena. I know being a victor is a huge honor and my family is expecting me to go sometime, but that doesn't mean that I will.

"Oh, that will be so nice. We haven't had a victor from here for ten years."

"Yeah, it will be nice. Now could you leave me alone? I want to spend some time with my little sister before the reaping." I know that's exactly the kind of thing I need to say to get away from them.

"How sweet."

"Oh, I'm so sorry we kept you waiting."

"No, no, it's fine. I still have time." Then I smile at them and turn into my house. My mother is waiting right by the door.

"We should leave for the square in fifteen minutes, and you're half-naked. What if you get picked? Do you want to embarrass me like that?"

Isn't that just the kind of friendly greeting that you'd look forward to on Reaping Day?

"What? Am I getting fat or something? You know most of the girls there would probably be thrilled if I showed up like this."

Great, I'm getting nervous now too, and it's slipping into my tone. When Rafe is nervous, he acts like a two-year old girl. When I get nervous, I act like a dick. Like father, like son I guess.

"Finnick." Her no-nonsense tone pushes the edge out of my voice.

"Okay, fine. I'll only take a minute."

"I have your clothes set out on your bed for you." I head to my bedroom and throw on the outfit my mother set out for me. Black pants and a black button down shirt. It's like she's dressing me for a funeral.

Twenty minutes later, I'm at the square, signing in my name five minutes late. People are clogging every inch of available space, yet it's dead quiet. It's like the noise has just been sucked out of the place.

I see a few guys I hang out with when Rafe isn't around, so I go and stand by them, but they're too nervous to say anything. I consider trying to find Rafe, but a couple Peacekeepers start snapping at us to get with our age groups. The two girls I were talking to earlier find me and start jabbering about how scared they are, obviously not noticing everyone else is silent. I start patting them on their backs, saying it'll be okay, praying that they'll just shut up. People are staring.

After what seems like just an eternity, our host, Alva Winters steps up to the stage and starts talking about the history of the games. I only half listen, mainly paying attention to the Victors sitting behind her. We have nine living. Five males and four females. I remember seeing most of their games on TV, but they show the old lady's the most. The winner of the 10th Hunger Games, Mags Davis is probably 70 and looks a little washed up, but I know that she's always been known for using her head. I remember her poisoning four tributes by sneaking nightlock berries into their food supplies. I don't think she even directly killed a tribute. She just played it smart and ended up winning.

"Now, Ladies first." Alva's high-pitched voice brings me back to the present. I watch as she reaches inside the girl's ball and snatches up a slip of paper. Then, opening in way more dramatically than is necessary, she reads a name.

"Arowana Silver." Now whispers start as people look through the crowds for the tribute, excitement starting to creep into the air as people see the girl. I strain to see the tribute, finally catching a glimpse of her as she makes her way to the stage. At first, all that I notice is the smirk on her face and the way that she's walking to the stage like this is her victory ceremony. Then she steps onto the stage and I get a real look at her, which makes me realize why she's acting like that. She's my height, at least, and has those long, tight muscles that are as fast as they are strong.

I've seen her at school, but she's a couple years above me. I wouldn't have talked to her anyway. She's poor, I don't think she knows how to speak, and I'm pretty sure that this is the only time I've seen her smile. As you can imagine, she spends a lot of time by herself.

There's the usual cheering and the girl shakes Alva's hand before taking her place on the stage. Then Alva daintily makes her way over to the guy's ball, a smile on her face from the reaction to the first tributes. Not Rafe I find myself thinking. She grabs the paper, unfolds it as slowly as possible, and reads the name.

The girls on my arms start squealing. It's not Rafe. It's me.

I look around, like I'm looking to see if there's another Finnick Odair somewhere. Of course, there isn't.

"Good job Finnick," one of the girls says, like I did something amazing. I barely hear her.

For a second I just stare at Alva in shock. Then she repeats my name and my brain focuses, instantly kicking into gear. I was trained a million times for this moment. My father even taught me how to act if my name was called or if I volunteered. Keep my back straight, put a sly grin on my face, and strut up to the stage. First I think it, then I do it. I strut up to the stage, hopefully looking like a real threat to win the games.

As the crowd starts cheering for me, not going by that whole "Don't judge a book by it's cover" thing, I run through everything I was instructed to do. First, size up the girl from my district, see if she's a threat. If she isn't, I'm supposed to let someone else kill her. If she is, she probably knows me and may know my strengths and weaknesses. Arowana is defiantly a threat. I make up my mind to kill her as soon as I get a good chance.

The mayor starts reading the Treaty of Treason, but I don't pay attention. I'm glancing at the victors, scanning each face, wondering who my mentor will be. Maybe Borglum, the guy who won about fourteen years ago. It seems like he'd have my fighting style. I remember his skill with knives. I'm better with a trident, but I've never seen one in the cornucopia before, so I figure I'd better plan to win with knives or maybe a spear. I'm not bad with those either. Like I mentioned before, my family was training me for this. Now I'm glad they did. I figure working on fishing boats since I was six will help too. There has to be water, and water usually means fish, so I'll hopefully have a consistent food source.

The mayor interrupts my strategizing with a single command. Shake hands. I take a step towards Arowana, and hold my hand out. She takes it, and I squeeze as hard as I can. She does the same thing. I try not to flex my fingers when we let go, but I notice that she does. I allow myself a small smile. She isn't as tough as she looks.

When the Reaping is done, Peacekeepers swarm around me like I'm a threat to make a run for it, then escort me into the Justice Building. I'm taken immediately to an overdone room that looks like it belongs to some snobby rich guy. There's velvet all over, silk tapestries, plush carpet, and ugly as hell paintings that could probably feed some families for a year. Huh. It looks like it belongs to my father.

Speaking of the devil, he's brought in a second later, with my mother trailing behind with Daisy in her arms.

"Well, I wish you could've trained a few more years," are the first words out of my father's mouth. No sadness at knowing that I'm going to get shipped off to fight to the death in a matter of minutes. No fear of losing his only son to the games. Just wishing he would've had a few more years to prepare me for slaughter. Gotta love my wonderful daddy.

"Hey, we'll get a new house out of the deal," I reply. Then my mother's face gets this look, and I brace myself for the crap that's going to spew out of her mouth next.

"Finny…" I cringe at her nickname for me, but she doesn't notice. "I know we've raised you to win these games, but you're barely fourteen. There are going to be kids much older than you out there. I want you to know that your chances aren't as good as you might want them to be. You can't be cocky like that. Your chances of winning are very small, and we don't want you to embarrass us on television by acting invincible and then losing right away."

I can't get too mad at that. At least she wasn't yelling and cussing when she was talking, like she usually does. I mean, telling your son not to embarrass you when he dies isn't that bad, as long as you look like you're actually sad about the whole thing.

"I'm coming home," I say in response. Then I take Daisy in my arms, kiss her forehead, and awkwardly hug both my parents before they leave. I'm not too sad to see them go. My mother is never around, and my father treats me more like an employee than a son. It's Rafe that I'm worried about.

He comes in next. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are tear stains on his face. When I see him totally broken down like that, I worry for the first time. I feel this pain in my chest at knowing that there's a decent chance I won't see him again. I clench my teeth together, telling myself to be tough. The only way that I'll have any chance of winning is if I think like I will win. I need to stay confident.

"Pull yourself together, you aren't going to the arena. I am." I actually sound strong when I say it. Well, sort of.

"But you're going to die," he says. I force a laugh.

"I'm not going to let myself get killed. Trust me. Remember this morning, I said you wouldn't go into the arena. I was right then. I'll be right now." He shakes his head.

"Dude, I don't know how you think you're going to win." I put my hands on his shoulders and actually shake him.

"I'm going to fish Rafe. Except this time I'm catching people. And you have seen me catch fish, right?"

"One of the best," he says, and holds his hand out for a high-five. I slap it, then he turns to leave. At the last second, he stops and turns around.

"What?" I ask. He reaches around his neck and takes his necklace, a black string with a silver trident attached to it, off. In the center of the trident is a small sapphire. It's probably the most expensive thing he owns.

"Take this, to wear as your district token," he says, and hands it to me. I slap him on the back, now working really hard to hold back tears. I know it'd look bad to potential sponsors if I walk out of the building with red eyes, so I take a deep breath to calm myself down.

"I'll bring it back to you," I choke out.

"I'm counting on it," he says, then he leaves me alone. When he shuts the door, I get this horrible thought that it's the last time I'm going to see him. Then I remember that there's no way I'm going to let myself lose, and I keep it together.

After a few minutes, more Peacekeepers come to escort me to a car. I've never actually ridden in a car before, but I've seen a couple of Victors driving them around. In any of the Districts, you basically get around on foot. Again, everything is too soft, so high tech that I almost want to despise it just because it reminds me of my father. I will admit that it is fast, and the windows are dark, so no one can ogle at the tributes. I almost rather would've walked, though. Arowana looks at me like she thinks I'm some kind of worm.

"Not used to being in the shadow of greatness?" I ask her. Remember what I said about nervousness making me an ass?

"Just wondering how your head could fit through the car door," she mumbles. I flip her off, and she lunges at me. I hold my hands up in surrender, knowing that fighting between tributes it illegal before the Games. They don't want to hurt their wonderful merchandise.

"Holy shit, calm down," I say hurriedly. She stops herself, just a few inches away from me. Her face is maybe a foot from mine, and I tip my face up even more, so that we're nose to nose. If I wanted to, I could kiss her. Seeing as I like having all of my teeth, I don't.

"Scared?" she asks me, raising an eyebrow. I roll my eyes.

"Nah, I just want you to save it for the arena." She rolls her eyes, but relaxes back into her seat.

We arrive at the train station immediately afterwards, but that doesn't mean the cameras and reporters haven't had sufficient time to set up. They're everywhere, their huge insect-like cameras trained on my face. Now I'm glad I hadn't cried. It'd be embarrassing, especially since Arowana looks almost happy.

We have to wait a while to let the cameras get enough pictures of us, especially of me. I've always known I looked better than most people, but I never thought much of it before. My family hasn't even acknowledged it, and the girls that have followed me since I was ten tend to be more annoying than anything. But now, with the cameras eating me up, I know that my appearance is going to be a big deal in these games. The good looking tributes always get the most sponsors. If I can play it right, I'll have this thing won before I even step into the arena. All I need to do is to get the audience on my side.

Once the cameras have had enough, we're loaded on a fancy high speed train and start speeding off towards the Capitol. It probably won't even take a day since the train is so fast, but I find myself wishing the train was slower. Is it too much to ask for another day?

Yes, in the Capitol's eyes it is. They provide the tributes with the fastest form of transportation possible, so the Games aren't delayed.

On the train, a Capitol servant leads me to my own private chamber, which also feels like some place my father would stay in. I get my own private bathroom, drawers full of clothes, and a huge bed, piled with fluffy pillows. All of it is too expensive, too soft, too unreal. Most of my house is like that too, with the exception of my bedroom. I always had the walls plastered with posters, things scattered everywhere, just because it made it feel like it belonged to me, when my father assured that I felt as if everything else was his. Right now, this room feels nothing like mine at all. It has Capitol written all over it, and I feel like I'm invading their space.

I force myself to let go of the feeling. I'll have to get used to it, because I'm guessing that the room I'll be staying in all week isn't going to be any different. I suppress a sigh, thinking about that. In a day, I'll be in the Capitol. In less than a week, I'll be fighting for my life in an arena filled with other teenagers, trying to kill me. I let my imagination go wild, then, thinking about everything that could happen in that arena.

I see myself die a hundred different ways, but perhaps the most haunting is in my last vision. There's just me and Mags left, and all I have to do is finish her off and I win. But when I start eating blueberries from my pack, suddenly the berries turn black and Mags appears, laughing hysterically right before the nightlock kills me. I'm not in very good shape by the time Alva knocks on the door.

I quickly splash cool water on my face before I follow her through the narrow hallway into the dining room. Arowana is already at the table, laughing with Borglum. The only other victor here is Mags. And after Alva sits, the only open seat is beside her. I try to remember that she wasn't always an old lady, that she was smart, but I still don't want her as my mentor, which it really looks like at the moment.

No one talks through the entire meal. I spend most of my time scarfing down food, trying to add some extra weight before I get into the arena. Well, and because it's the best food I'd ever had. Thick soups, perfectly cooked birds in decadent sauces, and rich cakes for dessert. I'd always assumed I ate well, better than most of my district, but there's an enormous difference between having a decent amount of old fish and having as many decadent dishes as I like. I eat until I feel like I'm going to throw up, then I force down a couple more bites.

When we're done, Alva takes us to another compartment to watch the other reapings. I pay attention to each one carefully, picking out who I'll want as allies, the ones I have to pay attention to, and the weaklings who I won't have to worry about. Immediately I realize that I won't be picking any of the tributes as allies. The ones who look strong enough to be of any use to me are also the ones who look like they'll stab me in the back whenever it's convenient, so I settle for watching for the ones that will be the biggest threats to me.

I take note of a fierce-looking boy from district 11, and a small blonde girl from 2 that eagerly jumps up to volunteer, but the one that scares me the most is a huge dark-haired boy named Titus from district 6 that's already eighteen, but looks like he could easily be 25. His eyes are feral, and with his thick muscles and broad shoulders, I'm positive that he is going to be the most lethal killer in the games.

When the Reapings are finished, Alva turns the television off and leaves me alone with Arowana, Mags, and Borglum.

"Get some rest. You're going to need it," Borglum says to me. I look at Arowana, but she doesn't move.

"Finnick," Mags says. I don't want to look like I need an early bedtime, especially since I'm just fourteen, but I do listen. Mags follows me to my room to make sure I actually listen, and I stop her before she leaves.

"You're my mentor?" I ask. She nods. I try not to cringe. I have a seventy year old woman as my mentor. I'm not surprised, but I'm also not happy with the confirmation. How was this worked out? Did she volunteer or something?

"Why you?" I ask. She takes a step back like she wants to get a better look at me. Then she nods to herself, like she was confirming something.

"I can help you the most," she says.

"And how?"

"You'll see." Then she walks away. I watch her for a moment before heading into my room. I am extremely tired, and I'm out before my head hits the pillow.

Alva calls me for breakfast early the next morning. Mags is there when I get there, but Arowana and Borglum are gone. I sit across the table from Mags.

"Where are the others?" I ask.

"They're talking about their strategy this morning, which I suggest you two should do as well," Alva pipes before she picks her way back out of the room, having trouble walking in a pair of freakishly high heels. I glance at Mags, but she doesn't look up from her coffee. I'm slightly annoyed at her indifference, but also figure eating would be easier if I don't have to listen to her, so I stack my plate full of food and start digging in.

I'm not halfway done when I feel Mags' eyes on me, so I glance at her. She's staring. I swallow the food in my mouth.

"What?"

"Keep eating," she says. "We'll talk when you are done." I'm a little self-conscious about the way she looks at me, but I do my best to ignore her and shovel down the rest of the meal so we can start talking.

"Okay, I'm done. So what am I supposed to do when I get into the arena? Do you want me to go to the cornucopia or should I take cover? I'm thinking that I should go for some decent weapons, since-" She holds up a hand, so I stop.

"Slow down. You have a lot to go through before you get into the games."

"What?"

"We get to the Capitol in a half hour, we don't have time to strategize now. Tomorrow morning, we'll discuss what you're going to do once you're in the Games. Okay?" I glare at her.

"You said we'd talk."

"I want to tell you about what your prep team is going to do to you."

"What? Die my skin orange?" Mags shoots me a look, and I remind myself to watch my tongue. I don't want her getting mad at me. After all, she's the one who's going to get me sponsors

"They're going to treat you like a dead fish," she says. I open my mouth, but she continues speaking. "Let them."

"What?"

"That is all I have to tell you. Good-bye," she says, then walks out of the room before I can say anything else. I stare at my empty plate, extremely annoyed, but there's nothing I can do about it, so I head back to my room, slamming my door in frustration. How am I supposed to figure anything out if my own mentor won't tell me a thing? I shake my head and plop down on the too big bed.

Since Mags said we make it to the Capitol in a half hour, I try to make a quick mental list of anything that I want to take with me, disappointed with how little there really is. The only things that are mine are the clothes I wore here and Rafe's necklace, which is still around my neck. For some reason that makes me feel lost. I want to see something familiar, something that's mine. I want to go to the ocean, or see my sister's smiling face, or even just to hang out with Rafe again. I've been away from home for less than a day, and already I want to go back.

I grab the necklace in my hand and stare at it, remembering when I met Rafe for the first time. He was 8, I was 6. We were the two youngest people working on the boats. Me, since my father was the supervisor, and Rafe, because his family was in desperate need of money. He'd been working for a few weeks before I came and was in charge of the grunge work- cleaning the boats, gutting the fish, stuff like that. Well, when I went to work on the ship, since I was the supervisor's son, I got the easy jobs. Throwing the net, delivering messages, just little stuff.

One day my dad was sick, and some guy who didn't like me was put in charge. He made me stay back on shore and help Rafe gut fish. I didn't want to, so I just watched him do it. After a while he basically told me to get my ass moving, but I was a spoiled brat and told him he couldn't make me and if he tried I'd make my dad fire him. We got in a fight, and it ended with fish guts all over the both of us and a knife held to my throat. One of the guys came back then, and broke up the fight. After we were cleaned up, we got yelled at real good by the man in charge. He talked to my father, and my punishment was to work with Rafe. Rafe didn't get in trouble, since apparently I started the fight.

At first we hated each other. He didn't talk to me and I mouthed off at him, but then something happened. One day one of my friends walked by the harbor and saw me working at the docks. He was from a rich family too, but his family didn't make him work, so he figured I must not be as good as him since I had to. He called me names and taunting me, and I started crying. So Rafe runs over there and socks this kid in the face. Then he calms me down and finishes all my work for me. When he's done, he takes me down to the ocean and we swim the rest of the afternoon. After that, he sort of took on the role of my bodyguard until I got better at defending myself than he was. But we were already best friends by then.

I sit down on my bed and sigh. God, what I'd give to have Rafe for a bodyguard again. That's the first time that I really feel scared of what's going to happen, and I start crying. I don't try to hold back the tears that are now flowing down my cheeks. I probably couldn't anyway.