Leoporis and I are carted off. At the Justice Building we're separated from each other and put into rooms to let our families come to say goodbye.
No one comes to see me. I had a vague hope Theta might, but like I said, we're not friends. And I've never been the type to go out of my way to make acquaintances. I had my father and I had my brothers. I worked in the day and stayed indoors at night like an obedient citizen. Their company was enough. And when it was gone, I couldn't bring myself to leave the shadows of the home we shared.
So I sit in silence until the Peacekeepers come to collect me. They haul me out to the trains and the cameras buzz around like flies. I pass in a blur through the proceedings. The train swallows me in a slow churn of colors. Its evening and I come to stand in my car full of lavish things I've never even dreamt up in my wildest sleeps.
There are clothes in the closet. I siphon out what looks most comfortable. A pair of dark pants and a white top. Neither fit very well. I'm thin but muscular and the clothes clutch too tight to the feminine curves of strength that run from my shoulders to my feet. Of all the Districts, the workers of 7 are most often the best fed. The work is laborious, backbreaking and requires a good deal of brute strength and thus adequate caloric intake. I'm not excessively fed, but I'm at least healthy looking. Right up until you get to my eyes. They're soulless and blink at me pale blue in the glass.
I drift silent from the room and to the dining car. I realize I haven't spoken a word to anyone in hours. In fact, I haven't uttered a word since I spoke to Theta early in the morning. It seems like a lifetime ago. It's probably for the best, I think. If anything came out of my mouth prematurely it would have burned like poison.
Pastel is all grins and too-white teeth as she stands from the table in the dining car to greet me.
"Calla, you look lovely," she gushes and instructs me to sit in chair.
I don't acknowledge her. I slide into my seat across from Leoporis and we stare at each other for a long moment before he goes back to his food. Pastel sits down, a little off put and frowns into her plate.
"Show some manners," someone murmurs from beside me.
I finally notice Thalon. He looks rather composed in a white shirt and dark pants. His hair is smoothed back and the scruff on his jaw trimmed a bit. I've never looked at him this closely before. The handsome face is just as disarming as the women of District 7 swear –but it's just a covering. A gossamer sheet over the war underneath. No victor comes from the Games unscathed. Thalon must hide his demons better than most. But they're definitely there.
I ignore him too and become aware of how hungry I am. I reach for a biscuit in the center of the table. A hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. I try to jerk my arm away but the vice of Thalon's grip is sure. A muscle in his forearm flexes. We meet eyes, the look in his is softer than mine but firm enough to make my blood boil.
"Let go of me," I hiss.
Thalon's lip curls a little. I give one last jerk and he releases me, but his gaze is unrelenting.
"Fine," I hiss and send a blazing look at Pastel who shrinks away from it, "Thanks."
She sniffs pointedly and doesn't reply. Leoporis snorts but doesn't meet my eyes and I can feel Thalon's anger seeping in waves from beside me. I can't find an appropriate emotion again so I decide to stay quiet. I reach back for the biscuit and tear it in half, shoving one full piece in my mouth. It's good, but it's bitter because I know where it comes from. Pastel makes a face at my chewing. Once I'm finished with the bite I reward her disgusted look with a belch. Leoporis smirks a bit, but otherwise remains dutifully mute.
Dinner is quiet after that. When the screenings of the reapings come on Pastel makes us watch. I don't care much about the other tributes. Their faces pass in front of me one by one until they cease to become faces and just an array of features instead. The footage of District 7 comes up and I watch myself hear my name. I look composed and harsh. I lift my chin, close my lips into a tight line, and walk up onto the stage. The wind blows around the white of my dress. Leoporis searches for his loved ones in the crowd as Pastel raises both of our arms.
I stare straight ahead.