Learn to Fly: Chapter Two
"Hook me up a new revolution, cause this one is a lie. Sat around laughing, and watch the last one die." - Foo Fighters
The air in the capitol, not that I had gotten the chance to breathe much of it, was not like home. It had a harder to breathe sort of thickness, and an almost suffocating perfume scent. My head was pointed upwards, gazing at the tops of tall buildings the entire short outdoor walk. I was surprised I didn't bump into anyone.
"You'll get used to it." Enobaria pushed me along, and into the building we'd be staying in. "We stay on the lowest tribute floor, but I've heard it's really the nicest room."
The elevator had at least twenty floor buttons. Some of them were numbered, but most had symbols or were simply solid neutral colours.
The elevator opened straight into our room, a huge place with colorurful furniture. It reminded me of some of the buildings the richer families in district 1 lived in. I wondered what the lower districts must be thinking right now. They were probably stuffing their faces, so they could look healthier for the interviews. It didn't matter though, unless they turned out to be extremely good looking, doubtful, they had no chance. That was what the Hunger Games were about though, the lower districts suffering more than the higher ones. It reminded everyone we were higher on the food chain than they were.
"Alright, busy day tomorrow." Enobaria said, "Go do what you want."
She didn't mean go waste your time, she meant go and strategize, or plan. Enobaria was a hard kind of woman, and she knew we were careers. Training and strategizing was in our blood.
I went to my room, and though I had originally planned on watching the reapings from the other districts, the shower looked all too inviting. So I shrugged off my uncomfortable dress and turned the tap on. There was more than one, and they were all gushing out a different temperature or scent. When I finally got a good temperature and the hot water was running down my back I felt ten times better.
Showering were great, good for thinking. Except what I had to think about was nerve wrecking. My fathers always disappointed eyes, the way he hadn't said goodbye. If I didn't win, well it was a good thing the other option was death.
I dried off and put on some clothes that were in one of the dresser drawers. Picking a blue shirt and tight black pants of a thick material that was like denim, but more stretchy.
As I tied up my long hair with a wide elastic, someone knocked on my door.
"Cato." I said, my eyes hard. I had to work extra hard not to seem wear, especially as one of the younger career tributes.
"I'm watching the reapings." He said, leaning against my doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I think it would be good if you joined me."
I wasn't sure if I should smile, or scowl, or what, so I nodded. "Okay."
I followed him down the hall, into a smaller room with a couch and television. He sat down on one end, slouching and I on the other, hugging my legs to my chest.
He clicked a remote button and the screen flickered to life.
We watched our reapings first, and I saw myself climb onto the stage, grinning like an idiot. Then he joined me, lighting up the stage a little more, and the only thing striking about me at that point was my short blue dress.
Then they cut to district two, another two careers. But the girl, glimmer, was so beautiful. I chewed on the inside of my lip. I silently reminded myself that being pretty would get her sponsors, not win her the games.
They cut to three, and two think pale kids stood on the stage.
"Frightening." Cato muttered, and I laughed a little.
District four was nothing special either. Though getting to see Finnick Odair wasn't the worst experience in the world. I let out an involuntary sigh.
Cato looked at me, snorting. "Girls."
"Shut up." I scowled.
He kept him eyes locked o the screen.
District seven looked normal, but knowing their mentor you could expect something a little different from Seven each year. Joanna Mason was smart, though so was Enobaria.
The next Tribute to jump out at me was from 11.
"He's huge." I said, shuddering at the sight of the six foot tall, olive skinned boy.
"He's from eleven, don't worry about it. We'll have fun with him."
I wasn't big on underestimating people, it just led to them having the upper hand. But the careers almost always made an alliance, so I supposed we would just finish off all the tributes that seemed threatening together.
District twelve though, a girl volunteered for her sister.
"Sappy." Cato said, folding his hand together. "Sponsors will love that."
It made me a little angry, knowing she would have an upper hand, and she was from Twelve. I ground me teeth together, wanting to sink a knife into something living.
"Don't worry, Clove." He said my name for the first time. "She's mine."
He said it possessively, and I didn't doubt he'd be the one to kill her.
this is really short, but they'll get longer once the games and training day start. review if you want more?