Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, as much as I wish I did.

I stretch and yawn, sitting up in my small, soft bed. It takes me a moment to remember why my lips are curling up in a grin and excitement is rising within me.

Today is the day of the reaping.

I throw off my sheets and my toes brush the cold floor of my bedroom. I dress quickly, throwing on a random navy blue dress that floats around my ankles. Then I cross to my door and yank it open, scurrying cat-like down the stairs, not making a sound. I reach the hall to the kitchen and see my older sister, Lia, standing there making her coffee. I tiptoe silently toward her. She has no idea I'm here. Smirking, I reach out and grab her shoulder.

She shrieks and drops her mug of coffee, splashing most of it on the counter. When she sees it's only me, she exhales in relief, but can't resist sending a glare in my direction before snatching up a dishrag to wipe the liquid off the counter.

"Dammit, Clove!" she snaps, throwing the dishrag onto the counter. "How many times have I told you NOT to do that?"

"Don't know," I reply, taking some bread out of the refrigerator and popping it into the toaster. "Hundreds, I expect." I sit down at the kitchen table and relax back in my chair, smiling at my sister. We argue sometimes, but I love her to death. She was my rock after my parents died from typhoid fever five years ago.

Lia sits down across from me with what's left of her coffee, fixing me with her piercing grey-blue eyes. Lia and I are the opposite of each other in looks, her being fair and blonde and me being tanned and unmistakably brunette.

My toast comes out of the toaster with a pop and I stroll over to get it, setting it on a plate. When I slip back into my chair, she's still staring at me. Okay, this is kind of unnerving.

"What's up, Lia?" I say loudly, snapping her out of her reverie.

She sighs and eases her flaxen hair over her shoulder, setting her mug down on the table.

"Look, Clove. I know what you're going to do today, and I won't let you."

I raise my eyebrows at her, as challenge. Coming from District Two, she can't fail to recognize it, and she looks angry.

"Clove! I'm serious! You cannot volunteer. You're only fifteen, for goodness sake! You'll get yourself killed.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. Killed? I could not be killed. I am much too fast, too skilled, and too smart.

"They couldn't kill me!" I laugh cockily. "When I get into that arena, they'll quake in their boots when they hear my name! Lia, you can't stop me from volunteering. Don't you want to be rich, don't you want a beautiful home?"

Lia stands up, speaking loudly for one of the first times in my memory. "Of course I do, who doesn't? What I don't want is you shipped home from the Capitol in a wooden box!"

I jump out of my chair and march toward the door, yanking it open so forcefully it leaves my grip and slams into the wall. I whip back around to face Lia. Her eyes are hard and determined. I glare at her and stalk out, slamming the door behind me.

As I enter the square, I forget about Lia and my eyes rove the crowd, searching for Shalom. Shalom and I met on the first day of school, and we've been inseparable since.

I find her almost immediately, wearing a deep green dress with a low neckline and looking tall in four-inch heels.

She hurries toward me, her auburn curls springing up and down as she totters over. I catch her in my arms and hug her tightly, knowing she's nervous but also knowing that she has nothing to worry about.

After all, I'm going to volunteer.

Shalom and I head over to the fifteen-year-old section, shoving other kids out of the way so we can a good spot up front. I purposely slam into Ariane Trice, almost knocking her to the ground, and snigger.

"Whoops," I laugh, "Sorry, you just always seem to be in the way."

She steps forward with a snarl, but a Peacekeeper steps in and pushes us apart. I scowl at them, but since Ariane stumbled into the girl in front of her and then fell over, I can't feel too bad.

Everyone is shouting about how they're going to volunteer kick ass in the Hunger Games, and I can't help but smile to myself. No way. I am going to volunteer, and I will be the first up to that stage. No matter what.

The mayor walks toward the podium and looks out at the crowd, then begins to read. He reads the history of Panem in a dull, droning voice that makes me want to fall asleep. The people in the crowd start to murmur to each other, and I click my tongue. Can we get started already? I rock back and forth on my flats in happy anticipation. The Hunger Games are mine this year. I can feel it.

The crowd quiets down a bit when our escort, Sierra LaTour, steps up on stage, her high heels clacking and ridiculous bright magenta lips spread in a wide smile.

"Happy Hunger Games!" she cries, looking like she's never been more excited in her life. "And may the odds be ever in your favor! My, what an honor it is to be here in District Two! I think we'll have a victor this year, am I right?"

The crowd yells out an affirmative and I join in, since that victor is going to be me.

Sierra click-clacks her way over to the ball with the girls' names and with a bright smile, she reaches her manicured hand into the ball, fishes around for a minute, and pulls out a name.

I tense my muscles, preparing to lunge forward and yell as loudly as I can. Out of my peripheral vision, I see Ariane leaning forward, preparing to do the same. My resolve strengthens tenfold. I will NOT be beaten by some cowardly, bitchy fool like Ariane. Sierra opens her brilliant magenta lips to read the name.

"Ellie P-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I yell as loudly as I can and run up to the stage.