DISCLAIMER: All rights belong to amazing Suzanne Collins.

CLOVE

The reaping is today.

It's the day that I've been training for my whole life. The day that decides everything. I'm only fifteen, but age hardly means anything here in District 2. In District 2, it's all about skill. And I'm the best. I know I'm the best.

Well, almost.

They say Cato Goldsworth is as good as me. Some people say better. This is almost his last year, considering he's already seventeen. If he doesn't get in this year, he probably never will.

Everyone says that District 2's reaping is basically random. The top ten best female tributes chosen from one jar, the top ten best male tributes chosen from another. But the best people are always almost chosen. Coincidence? Yeah, right.

"Clove, you almost ready to go?" Mom peeks her head in through the doorway. I'm trying (and failing) to do something interesting with my hair. Mom says braiding is easy, but I don't understand how all the strands go together. I guess I'm not your typical girl. While most girls were learning how to braid their hair, I was training and learning how to fight. Dad always says I was born to be a fighter, and my dad's biggest dream (other than winning the games, of course,) was to have a child that won. Since Sugar, my little sister, would never win the hunger games, I am the obvious choice.

"Do I actually need to do something with my hair? Can't I just put in a ponytail?"

Mom gives me a smile. "Oh, Clove. Would you like my help?" I hate having other people help me, it makes me feel weak, but this is my mom, the nicest person in the world, so I nod and let her braid my hair.

The streets are far more crowded than usual, but that's to be expected. As a possible tribute, I walk up towards the front, with the other girls. Willow and Marion are the second best girls, and I know that if, for some reason I'm not chosen, it'll be one of them. But I'm gonna be chosen. I know it.

Ophelia May, our Capitol Escort (god, those women are so fake) walks up to the podium, says the usual introduction, and then smiles and says, "Well, let's get to it. Ladies first, right?" A man gives her a slip of paper with a name on it. My name. It better be my name.

"And our female tribute is… Clove Rice. Come up to the podium, please." Me! It's me! If my father was here, and not in the Capitol, he might be beaming even more than me. And that means something, because my father is not a smiley person.

I walk up, and Ophelia May smiles at me, a sickeningly sweet smile. I'm not even annoyed about it, I'm so happy.

"Now for the boys." She receives another piece of paper. Cato Goldsworth. I see the name right before she reads it out loud, and if I'm being honest here, I feel the strangest feeling. It feels almost like… fear. Because… Cato is the only person with a chance at beating me. But the second I feel it, it's gone. Because I know I got this.

"Cato Goldsworth." Cato walks up, right as one of the boys waiting with him gives him what can only be described as a manly slap on the back.

He stands on Ophelia May's opposite side. Despite my best efforts, I can't help but notice that he's good-looking. Not just average, but really freakin' handsome. His hair is light and dirty blond. And his eyes are a strangely bright blue, sharp, keeping track of every little detail. I know why so many of the girls like him. But he's off limits, just like me. The most serious tributes always are, forbidden to date. And that was never a problem for me. I'm not ugly, but I'm not beautiful like my mother and Sugar and, quite frankly, Cato. Guys have never been interested in me. Cato, however, is loved by all. And him being off limits seems to make everyone love him more.

He extends his hand, and I remember we have to shake. I reach out, and our palms are squeezed together as we clasp hands. Then we let go and my hands dangle at my side.

I don't remember exactly what Ophelia May says, and next thing I know Cato and I are escorted into the main building, where we will say our goodbyes.

Mom and Sugar are already waiting for me. "Five minutes," the peacekeeper says, and leaves to wait right outside the door.

"You're really doing this, Clove! You're gonna win the Hunger Games!" Sugar is completely ecstatic.

I grin at her. "I haven't won yet, Sugar."

She grins back. "Yeah, Clovey. But you will. I know you will, and mommy does too. Right, mommy?"

Mom nods, but I can tell she's not as happy about it as Sugar, or as happy as father would be. I'm worried she's tearing up a little.

I give her a look. "I'll be fine. You know I'm the best. In the arena, I'll show everyone, and then I'll be back here in no time. You believe in me, right?"

She gives a teary laugh. "Of course I do. But I'm your mother, it's amazing how fast you've grown up. Next thing I know you'll be moving out."

I laugh. "I will get my own house in Victor's Village, mom. But don't worry, you can visit anytime."

She smiles, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "You know, Clove. You're really a good person. You pretend to be all fierce and are always completely in control, but you have a true heart. That makes you better."

I'm not sure how to respond. "I am fierce. I'm not pretending."

She gives a slight nod. "I know, honey. I know."

"Time's up!" The peacekeeper walks back in the room.

Sugar and Mom give me one last hug, and I feel Mom slip something into my palm. I put in my pocket without looking at what it is. I'll have time for that later.