"School, what's the point of it?"

"Babes,"

"Easy sex,"

"No, babes and easy sex," almost everyone agreed.

"Wrong," I corrected, rubbing my temples, "It's to learn about survival and strategy, for the Games." I wasn't exactly sure why he hung out with these lumbering, sex-craved idiots. "No wonder nobody from this district ever wins!"

I wished I wasn't so popular, and then I could be friends with Dakota; a girl with red hair and a thin, narrow face. Her fox-like features caused many to call her "Foxface." The girl was extremely intelligent for her age, in general was an attractive woman, but I had no desire to, as my "friends" would put, 'Get into her pants.' Their respect for females was extremely low, degrading and childish.

As if on cue, I spotted her walking to her table, her green eyes downcast. "Hey Foxface!" I beckoned. Those green eyes caught my own, "Come here!"

The girl ignored me and made her was back to her lonely table in the back. My "friends" went back to talking about girls, and was forced to listen to them.

Soon enough, the day had ended, and I was glad for it. I only wanted to relax. Walking through the city, power plants on either side of me, the dirty black streets staining my shoes, I thought about the day. Same routine, same idiotic friends with their idiotic jokes.

When I approached my door, a "Marcoo!" in a high pitched voice diverted me from my thoughts. Scooping up my little sister, I said, "Hey my little tulip, how are you?"

"Goood! 'Ow 'bout you?" the two year old asked.

"I'm fine," I answered, putting the little girl down again.

"Jasmine? Where's mommy's necklace?" my mother entered the room, looking around. She spotted me, "Hi Marco, how was your day?"

"Well, and yours?" I asked, kissing her on her cheek.

"It was... well, they don't lie when they call them the 'terrible twos.'" she sighed, pushing her hand through her hair. I grinned, "Well, go up and do your homework," she sighed.

"Okay, mum." The plant had fired my mother a year after Jasmine was born, and it transformed her into a miserable being. She didn't smile as much as before, money was strict, and everything that was hot and new was never acquired by our family. I would just answer my friends with, "I really don't think it's cool," and automatically, it wouldn't be. They believed anything I said. In reality, I couldn't afford it but I didn't need them to know that. They were all in the higher end part of the district. I was not. Though I was their leader, I was much poorer than them. Entering my room, I closed the door and lay on my bed. Why do I have to be popular? I wondered. I'm not arrogant or rude, like I appeared to be at school. I'm pretty polite and shy. Everyone thinks I'm a bad boy or a real rebel. I couldn't lie to my mum about eating my vegetables, much less sneaking out. And my sister, Jasmine, is the world to me. I would always have her back.

I gave her the nick name 'Tulip' since it was her favorite flower. She always wanted to be a tulip, she was only two after all. Only two. When she turned twelve... No, I wouldn't think of that. I loved my mother and sister. My dad? He died when Jasmine was three months old. He had been killed by a "mutt experiment gone wrong". I tried to forget that day. I tried to focus on my homework, but the question would remain unanswered on the crisp white sheet.

"Describe your dream girl," it had sprawled across the paper. The ink was perfect, but it was such a stupid question. A biology question, we were studying the human hormones after all.

I had no dream girl. My dream person was 6'4", blond hair, blue eyes, tanned, muscles everywhere, strong, powerful and male... Yes. I'm gay. I had always wanted a man that had power, was a bit crazy and sexy, very sexy. I tore the paper in half and let the sheet flutter to the carpet. I had always loved men; never women. I wanted a man in my life, but I knew it would never happen. Here, gays would have to become straights so they could have children for working the plants. But I could never really love a woman; I could never trick a woman into loving me. I wish I was a woman, so I could love men. I wished I wasn't popular. I wished I could be friends with Dakota.

"Dinner's ready!"

"Okay, give me one second."