Despite her mother's earlier pleading, her hand shot up straight in the air.
More than anything, she wanted to be picked. Alas, she was not alone in this mindset, as nearly every other eligible female's hands were raised as well. The ones that didn't raise their hands didn't matter; they were not tolerated in the district. Her mother, sadly, seemed to be one of these pathetic people.
The squeaky male brought in from the Capitol scanned the eager faces of the crowd, smiling slightly, and then sometimes frowning as he narrowed down the probable tributes. Her heart skipped a beat when he looked right at her, but then sank when he quickly moved onto someone else. He had to pick her; she would not allow otherwise.
Her mouth contorted into a scowl, and her eyes dimmed down to menacing orbs; she would make him see that there was no other option. He scanned the crowd once more; she pushed her way forward, shoving if necessary. However, one girl did not budge.
"Move over," she hissed, her voice lowering to a snarl.
"You move over," the girl hissed back, with an equal amount of venom. Clearly she wanted to participate in the games just as much as Clove did. She recognized her; a pretty blonde who ranked just below her during class. The one who broke Cato's heart and turned him into what he was. Eighteen years old. This would be her last chance at fame and pride; her last shot at gaining the inevitable.
Without a second thought, Clove shoved her to the floor, following it up with a sharp blow to her side. She was indeed much stronger.
"Well it looks like we have our winner!" his voice boomed.
Shit.
All of a sudden his hand shot to her and two Peacemakers were escorting her up the steps to the grandiose stage. "This one sure looks like a fountain of talent, huh?" His grin was too wide and cheesy, bleached to the point his teeth seemed blue. The grip on her arm was too tight; she wanted to slap it off. "And what's your name, Dear?"
Her voice was clear. "Clove."
She stood proud as he scanned over the boys. Finally, her shot at honor; her one chance to prove she wasn't the smallest, nor the weakest. No, she had power.
And then her resolve crumbled when she saw him walk up the steps; she tried to keep a straight composure.
"And your name is?" He smirked, not looking her way.
"Cato." Nobody needed their last names here; they were well known throughout the district. As the man from the capitol concluded the reaping, Cato finally shot her a glance. He nodded at her, then turned away; she sneered.
Figures she'd get this lucky.