It is today. The announcement of the third Quarter Quell. Effie, Peeta and I are gathered at Haymitch's house for the announcement. Mainly to make sure he is awake and sober enough to understand it. We're sitting around and making polite conversation when the Capitol seal flashes on the screen.
President Snow appears soon after. Tense silence falls over the room as he begins to speak. He gives the customary speech about how extraordinary this year is because it's a Quell, and how it's going to be a special set of Games this year. And then the envelope that contains this year's challenge is delivered. He makes a show of opening it, so that by the time the slip of paper is revealed I'm ready to jump through the screen and throttle him.
"To show Panem as a whole that life as you know it can be changed in an instant, this year's tributes will be reaped from the pool of victors and their escorts." He smiles eerily as he folds the slip of paper. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
The screen flashes to black and I feel my blood run cold. I glance around the room. Peeta's mouth is moving, forming unintelligible words. All the blood has drained from Effie's face, leaving her an even ghostlier shade of white than normal. I am too shocked to move.
Haymitch just sighs and grabs a new bottle of white liquor. After a few minutes I feel my body responding to my brain's commands.
"We're going back in," I whisper so quietly that I'm sure no heard.
"Not necessarily, sweetheart," Haymitch says after a gulp of alcohol. "You heard him. We all have an equal chance of going in. Could be you an' Peeta, could be me an' Effie. Or, it could be me an' you or Effie an' Peeta. We won't know until the Reaping."
His gaze lingers on me for a few moments after he finishes his speech and our eyes lock. We know that Effie will be chosen. It's just too much of a coincidence that this year's Quell involves escorts. And in that moment, we form an understanding. I'm to volunteer for Effie, because we all know she wouldn't last a minute.
He will volunteer for Peeta if he is chosen. Effie snuggles close to Haymitch on the couch and cries. Her sobs are hard and cause her body to shake. I sit beside Peeta and lay my head on his shoulder, emotionless.
"Why is everyone so quiet?!" Effie shouts after a few minutes. "Any two of us are going into the Games! Show some emotion!"
"Don't you mean back into the Games, princess?" Haymitch asks quietly, and that's all it takes for her to hide her face again.
We stay hidden away for a few hours, but eventually we part. I go home to my distraught family, Peeta to his. Effie stays with Haymitch. When we leave she manages to pull herself together enough to kiss us both on the cheek and give us a hug. We return the gestures and whisper reassurances in her ear.
Reassurances that she won't get picked, that they wouldn't do that to her when it's me they want. But, as I said, we all know the words have no truth in them. But she smiles anyway and agrees. Good old Effie, keeping up a happy facade just to try and raise our spirits. We yell goodbye to Haymitch and are answered with a grunt.
It's a sure-fire bet that he'll be passed out by seven. But at the moment, we all focus on our last normal night together with those we love. Tomorrow's the Reaping, and who knows the horrors it will bring.
AN: So, what do you think? I got this idea from reading other stories (most of which are not finished) dealing with this. However, Effie usually goes into the Games in those. But I love her too much to put her through that horror. All though if I receive enough positive feedback I might write one with her as a tribute. So go ahead, click that review button, or I'll send Effie to nag you!