-Clove's POV-

The sun heats up my pale skin as I glance around smugly. A tall, clown-like woman has just announced my name to all of Panem. I've been chosen for the Hunger Games, and I'm completely thrilled. This is what I've been training for.

So I stroll up onto the stage and underneath the Capitol banner and flash a stunning smile for everyone to see. I can't wait for the Hunger Games.

She pauses for a minute to congratulate me and then says, "Now, for the boys!" The woman calls. When she digs her hand into the basket, I hear someone cry out in protest. "Wait!"

A tall boy about my age races forward. "I volunteer!"

"Oh, yay!" The announcer does some sort of happy-dance right there in front of the country. "Just take me to the Capitol already", I think, holding back the temptation to slap her. Before I know it, she leads us to a train that will take us to a special building for the tributes. We have our own little compartment. How nice.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone for a while! Why don't you chat about the Games?"

I sit across from the boy tribute. I recognize him as Cato, from the Academy. We're kinda-sorta friends, I guess. But I still turn away from him and look through the window.

-Cato's POV—

I can't believe it. I search around and then I spot her and give her a look of shock and disbelief. But she can't see me, of course. She just grins and walks up on stage, giving everyone a bright smile. Seriously?

This year, I'm supposed to let my fellow classmate Aster volunteer for the games. But I can't. Not with her in the Games. I'm not sure why. So I rush forward, shoving through all the people and volunteering before the announcer can even draw the names for the boys. Aster stares at me. I mouth the words "I'm sorry."

The pale woman leading this year's District 2 Reaping does a little jig or something and says, "A volunteer? Oh, yay!" And leads us onto the Capitol train. She sits us in a cramped room with a table and some chairs and asks us to talk amongst ourselves. Clove does a hairflip and looks out the train window. I don't really care. I don't want to talk, to her, either.