I walk out the door of our modern apartment, dreading the moment we arrive. Camry is waiting for me just outside the square. "Clove, wait up!" she calls, "Walk in together?" she asks. I nod nervously and we proceed ahead towards the beginning of the line. "Haven't seen him," she whispers in my ear. I take a deep breath in and will my mind away from that topic. "I'm so excited," I lie, changing the subject, "Do you think I'll get chosen?" "No," Camry says spitefully, "I'm dreading it so you just have to bring it up, don't you?" "You brought him up," I point out. By this time, we've arrived at our spots in the 18 years section. The guys are across the wide space in between the genders for those who are reaped to go up to their doom. Despite my best efforts, I still glance around to find him but I don't see anyone resembling who I am looking for.

The hush comes all at once, and the Capitol representative steps up to the platform. I hardly pay attention to his words. I've heard them too many times before. By the time he's gotten to the actual reaping, half the crowd is asleep. "Ladies first!" he says. My stomach clenches in anticipation. I can feel myself shaking. His hand delicately enters the glass ball. He shuffles around a bit, and then removes his hand. It's clutching a piece of paper, folded in half. Carefully, he unfolds it. My breath catches and Camry looks at me in concern. "… Clove…" he says, my surname lost in the cheers of the crowd. I walk slowly, stunned to the platform. Once I arrive, he calls for volunteers. I am top of my class, so the group of anxious teens is silent. I glance at Camry, but she looks away as if to say you got your wish. I feel like crying until I see my mother's proud face. I smile at her, but it likely looks like a grimace. The reaping is not over and I have to endure the agony of waiting for my district partner. My brain is swirling. I can't concentrate on anything around me. Soon enough, the name is called. A volunteer steps up, the crowd roars and I stare into the triumphant face of Cato. This time, Camry doesn't ignore my frantic gaze. Instead, she looks at me as shocked as I am. My luck couldn't get any worse. As I am forced to shake hands, he gives me this isn't happening look, but all too soon the connection is broken and we are lead away to the Waiting Rooms.

My mother and my sister are my first visitors. "I'm so proud," my mum says, "I couldn't be happier." My sister, Acacia, smiles at me, as though I am a relative she doesn't remember. It pains me to see that smile so I look away. The guard yells through the door, "Five minutes is up, hurry and say good-bye." He seems more polite, but then I remember his daughter was reaped and died a few years back. "Bye," I say quietly. My mum instantly realizes how terrified I am. "You'll be fine," she says reassuringly, "You never miss." Acacia smiles and turns to leave. My mother follows her lead.

The minute they leave, Camry comes bursting in. "Leave and die!" she says, and then realizes what she just said and promptly bursts into tears. "You're okay," I say slowly. "I am, but you're not," she gulps, "He is going with you and now everything is gone." I stare at her. The ring. The tears. The laughter. It all comes flooding back and the present hits me with a rush. I am 18 years old. I am in love with Cato. We are going to die. It's my turn to cry. Camry hugs me whispering, "You'll be okay, it's okay," over and over. The guard yells again, "Five minutes is up and so is your third visit. Now get out!" Camry turns away, calling over her shoulder, "Come back soon!" to me, giving me strength to face my last 5 minutes in District 2.

The next visitor takes his time coming in. I think for a second my father had come, but he didn't, though I saw him at the reaping. Cato smirks shyly, and I run at him. My tears blur my vision and I can barely choke out my words. "We are going to die." He nods, fighting the urge to cry himself. We are crying and hugging and I am so sad. He looks straight into my eyes, down into my soul. "No," he says, "We won't." I laugh. "One victor, which means at least one will die." Suddenly, a horrible idea dawns on me. "Don't kill me Cato, please no!" it comes out as a shriek. "Calm down, you're okay," he says, "I won't. I couldn't, not ever." His words give me little comfort. What comes next makes me scream. "I will protect you with my life, Clove, I will never throw that away to come home and live alone, lonely and guilty." "I can die but I won't stop protecting you. God, I feel like a soppy romance novel character." "No!" I scream, "You won't die for me!" The guard pulls Cato out before I can finish. "You weren't even supposed to be in here. Now you're making her scream. You, mister, are a bad egg," he growls, pulling Cato away by the collar. With that, the representative, Ante, enters. He is followed by my mentor, Angelica Sharpe. She's a creep, only 14, from 2 years ago. She was our youngest tribute since the first Games, aged 12 when she left for the Capitol. Cato's mentor is Lucius Titus, a brutal Career from 5 years ago with a kind heart. He will be a good mentor. Angelica gives me a glance and sighs audibly. I glare at her. Ante leaves, and she approaches me warily.

Her Games have left their mark. Her long, white-blond hair nearly hangs down to her waist. From temple to just above her upper lip she has a straight, shallow scar. It even runs through her eyelid. Strangely enough she has use of her flawed right eye. It's regarding me cautiously. Clearly, her arena instincts are as sharp as ever. I remember her from before the fateful reaping. Swift as a fox, cunning as a serpent, secretive as though no one was careful enough to be trusted. A real Career in everything she did. "The train is waiting," she says, turning towards the door. I follow, terrified the knife I know is concealed beneath her tribute jacket (I never did find out how she got to keep it) is going to be turned on me. She never misses.

The train is dark, and although there are lights, no one makes any move to turn them on. Cato and I are watching past tapes Angelica and Lucius have found for us. Each kill reminds me of what will have to happen to him. And myself. Each blow onscreen is a blow to us. He feels me trembling and holds me close, ignoring his sense of growing urgency. Finally he speaks up, "We need to know who are competitors are." "Very well," Angelica says, tossing us the remote. "Watch them. 394." The minute we turn to the channel, the recaps are painful.

It starts in District 12. "Peeta and Katniss," Cato mutters. District 11 is a tragic reaping, the girl is only 12. She isn't anything like Angelica, she'll never win. "Thresh and Rue." Cato notes all the competitors, remembering every name. Marcus and Arum, District 10. Aius and Apollonia, District 9. Flavius and Arabella, District 8. Avaro and Rowan, District 7. Quintus and Blasia, District 6. Caesar and Lara, District 5. I noted that Lara had a look about her saying untrustworthy. Damian and Isabella, District 4. They would be our fellow Career allies. Michael and Rosemary, District 3. Then, of course, Cato and Clove, District 2. Finally our other set of Career allies, Marvel and Glimmer of District 1. "District 3 are weaklings. They're both, what, 13 at the most?" Cato points out. "Rue is an obvious target," I say, trying to sound matter of fact but it comes out squeaky. I remember years where we weren't the strongest. This won't be one of those years. My sigh of relief is short lived as Angelica walks over. "Appearances lie. You could still die. Look at Isabella, Marvel, each other. Glimmer, Damian and the rest may not prove threatening now, but what if they're better than you think?" she continues, "There are too many tributes who have used our brutality to their advantage. Do you think that none of these desperate teens will try that same strategy? If it works for so many others, it will work for them, won't it?" Lucius nods from his seat at the table, "It's true. I'm sure at least one of them are considering it, be it Career or pathetic weakling." He smiles at the last bit. Lucius had the highest kill rate in his Games. He takes pride in being able to so well do away with the 'weaklings' of the non-Career Districts.

Waking up the next morning is a pain. Cato is in the room across from mine, and we were up late devising strategies for the Games. I called dibs on first kill and he called dibs on the other volunteer, the girl from District 12, Katniss. We are the strongest Careers and District 2 tributes are always the boss. The others will listen to us. I'm jolted out of my thoughts by Ante pushing me towards the table. "Sit, sit!" he says joyfully, oblivious to the tension in the room. "Almost there," say Lucius bleakly. I nod and dig into a plate of eggs sitting in front of me. Beside the eggs is a piece of bacon and some toast. "Eat up! We don't want to be late for the arrival! It's crucial they see you on the train. I'm about to ask why, but think better of it immediately. It makes us seem like celebrities, people they want to see very badly.

Of course, we are celebrities, but in a different way. We aren't real people to them, just toys to be betted on, played with and laughed at. Besides, I've heard things about what happens in the Capitol to Victors. I've even thought about losing to avoid it.

The Capitol comes into view nearly two hours after breakfast. Ante took more than double the time it takes for me to get ready for school on any normal morning. My hair is perfect, my clothes neatly ironed and draped in a flattering way. Cato looks just as stunning, maybe more. I wonder if they did that to focus on his good looks and put less attention on me. He smiles at me and mouths beautiful, which has me beaming like an idiot. We wipe the smiles off our faces and stare at the crowd coldly, like a real celebrity. They're cheering and screaming and everyone is way more excited than we are. I take the opportunity to look confident and look around. I don't really see how the Capitol is any better than home.

Everything is grayish-silver and what is colorful is hidden and subdued at the back of the train station. However, once we've arrived on the streets, everything is a burst of bright colors. The people are wearing too many colors to count; in fact the amount of color is sickening. The streets are a silvery blue, unlike the paved roads at the heart of our district, which are plain grey. Every building is metallic silver, and each window is a different color. There are next to no earth tones and everything is either neon or very close to.

We don't get more than a minute to look around. The Tribute building is very close by. We are escorted to the top floor by two Avoxes, two criminals. The floor we are staying on is also colorful, but here it is more subdued. There are earth tones and the blue rug isn't close to neon or really any bright, popping blue. Ante shows us our rooms, then whisks us to the training Center to prepare for the Tribute Parade. The train, being late, forced the Games to be on a shorter notice. We still have all our training days, but the Parade being today means no relaxation.

The Training Center is close to our building but it still takes 5 minutes to arrive in the right places. My prep team doesn't even introduce themselves, just grumble about "my tardiness being bad for their work ethic". I try to be a good patient but my mind is too full of strategies to really pay attention. By the time they're done, they've sworn at me twice and glared countless times. "Go meet your stylist you ungrateful little…" the blue haired guy mutters. I obediently walk out to meet her.

What my stylist looks like surprises me. She is wearing a subdued blue robe and black leggings. "Liz," she says. "Clove," I reply. Liz laughs but then gets down to business. She hands me a gladiator like bundle of clothes and a headdress and leaves while I dress. "Perfect!" is the verdict and I'm sent to the chariot area to wait.

Cato arrives a few minutes later. The attendants rush to our chariot and instruct us where to stand. A few seconds later, the announcer's voice can be heard and the first chariot pulls out. Next comes Cato and I. The crowd cheers and the comments of the announcer are drowned out. By the time District 11 comes out, the citizens are bored but still cheering. Then District 12 comes. Suddenly, every spectator is screaming. I am confused, but there's no way I can look without drawing bad attention to myself.

I get a look when we arrive in the Circle. They are on fire, flaming costumes alight. Inside I groan. They will capture everyone's attention and we will be remembered as the tributes who were the same as all of the others. Cato and I exchange a quick look. The verdict is the same. No one will remember Cato and Clove of District 2.

"Disaster!" Angelica groans. "Well, it was nice while it lasted. They were impressed until they ruined it," adds Lucius. Cato nods. "The scores matter even more now. We'll do better," he assures them. I nod in agreement. Even though we didn't capture the show with our costumes, we will be the best out there.

It takes a while to get to sleep. My brain is full of training strategies. I decide to throw knives to show off that I never miss, but keep my secret of sorts: I can't miss with either hand. By the time I've finally drifted off, I'm thinking of all the ways to kill the other tributes without putting Cato in danger.

We arrive at the Training Center early. It takes nearly an hour for everyone to arrive, and another twenty minutes for the Head Trainer to get there and give us an explanation. I listen, but 15 minutes later, I couldn't tell you half of what she told us.

We meet the other Careers at the weapons. Glimmer and Marvel, D1, are both airheads, but I like Marvel. Glimmer is just, gah. Isabella and I are nearly constant friends and Damian doesn't talk much but I can tell he doesn't like anyone here except Isabella. We all chose a weapon and start practicing. Time flies and soon enough, it's lunchtime.

Lunch isn't really a big deal, just some funny Capitol foods that we had on special occasions at home. I eat with the Careers, but we seem to be the only ones not eating with just our District partners.

After lunch, we move on to the other stations. "Survival is important too," Isabella reminds us. She's really the only reason we are here. Leaving couldn't come sooner, and we finally escape the stifling room that could be the last time we ever touch a weapon.

We return again the next day. Everything is the same, except someone (I expect it was Rue, the little girl from 11) steals Cato's sword. He gets mad, and then forgets as we are all forced to go through the Gauntlet, an obstacle course with instructors swinging bats around at us. It's a way to show off our agility and I am disappointed but not surprised to see the girl from 5, Lara, go through better than any of the Careers.

Third training day is our private session with the Gamemakers. I show off my ambidextrous knife skills, then for good measure, build a fire in under a minute, and extinguish it with no trace in less than the time it took to build it. They clap, and I leave pleased but not satisfied.

I wait on the couch nervously. "This is so exciting!" chirps Ante. Cato rolls his eyes. The scores start up and everyone falls silent. Glimmer and Marvel do decent for 1. Not spectacular, but that wasn't surprising. Cato's score is impressive, but I'd expect nothing less than a 10 from him. My name appears onscreen and…

10. It is high, but I was hoping to get 11. I put it out of my mind. I did the best I could and now I've got to get the interview over with and the Games can begin.

We all get a shock when Katniss is announced. 11 is her score. My mouth falls open. "How…" Angelica trails off. 'Surprise," Cato says, "She steered clear of archery. Probably has talent in it." We all groan. What's done is done, and we can't change it.

The interviews are another preparation the prep team grumbles through. I try to be still, but I can't stop wiggling in anticipation. I know my angle; sweet but sarcastic. Cato said it was exactly my personality.

My stylist has a gorgeous red sleeveless dress for me but I hardly concentrate on anything. I'm too nervous wondering what will happen on the stage.

The D1 interviews fly by. I'm not paying any mind to it. Cato gets up and I have to force myself to pay attention. Soon, it's my turn and Angelica nudges me. I walk on to the stage confidently and sit down when he asks. I answer all the questions and keep my angle. But it doesn't seem like I've fulfilled my purpose and that I've really done what I should. The rest of the interviews pass by the same way Marvel's did and I hardly notice when Peeta announces he's in love with Katniss. In fact, I really couldn't care less. Until I realize that's what I needed to really secure my status as the strongest tribute here.

In the room, the space seems small and cramped. Liz hands me a red jacket and a smile. "Good luck," she says finally, "Not that you need it." I smile back and turn around. I climb in the glass cylinder and glance back once. As it starts to rise I can't help thinking, if only I could turn back now.

The arena is brighter than I thought it would be. There is a lake to our right and a forest to the left. On the other side of the lake is a field of wheat. I can't help but remind myself to never enter it, even if it's the only way to win. There is no way to see what's a few feet away in that maze of grain.

Cato glances my way, but I purposely look towards the Cornucopia. Eyes on the prize, I remind myself. Suddenly a voice rings out, "5…4…3…2…1!" and a cannon goes off. Immediately, I sprint right for the Cornucopia. At the edge of the pile outside it, there are a few knives propped up against a bag of supplies. I grab the first one I see and throw it perfectly at the girl rapidly approaching; I think she's from District 9. First kill I think triumphantly. Now all the sponsors will want to be the one who supports me. Marvel appears beside me. He holds a spear, and it's covered in blood.

The bloodbath has begun.

Cato is over to the right; Glimmer is unsuccessfully defending the left while trying to get more weapons she can't use. What an idiot, I think. Marvel and I take the centre. Isabella and Damian have disappeared. We move closer inward, towards the best weapons. A bow and a dozen arrows sit at the mouth. I snatch them away before Katniss can get to them.

"Cato will be at the back," Marvel says, "I saw the swords back there."

"And Isabella?" I ask, "She's a sword fighter but she isn't there. Do you think she bit the dust?"

"Nope."

His response quiets my worries for the moment but I still look out for her body. For the next few minutes I concentrate on the fighting tributes from other districts. Soon enough, they run off or die and the cannons sound. 8 shots ring out, 8 less tributes to contend with.

We pick through the rest of the supplies. Making a pile and finding someone to guard it are our next priorities. Cato, Marvel, Damian and Glimmer start the pile, Isabella and I leave to look for our new guard.

"Let's make it quick," I mutter, "I don't trust that Glimmer girl to just stay quiet with a bunch of boys."

Isabella grins. "Jealous, are we? No matter, I've already found a guard."

"Who? Even if you did, we still have to catch them," I point out. It feels like this job will be longer. I didn't quite trust Cato to hold off on Glimmer and her flirting.

"Him."

Isabella pointed to the trees. I could just see a boy hiding in the brush.

"Excellent," I said, grinning, "We can take him."

It was the boy from 3. Isabella chased him in my direction, then let off. He stopped to catch his breath. I snuck up behind him and pressed my knife against his throat.

"Come with us, we can help you," I whispered in his ear.

He shook and walked obediently over to the Career camp. Peeta of 12 was there waiting for us.

"You must be Clove. I'm Peeta, your newest ally."