To the Capitol
As if it hearing his name being drawn for the Games wasn't enough, it was almost too much to bear to feel him sitting beside you in the car that was whisking you both off to the train that was to take you to the Capitol. Here, you were going to be expected to fight and die like a champion. You thought this was a ridiculous idea considering the most you had ever killed was, well, nothing. There was no way you would make it out.
Neither of you were speaking as the car winded its way through the depressed, worn-out streets of what you were surely going to be calling home for the last time. You didn't even get to say goodbye to your mother...the rules had been changed regarding this too: as soon as you and Peeta had shook hands and been announced the Tributes of District 12, you were immediately pulled from the stage by peace keepers and thrown into the car, practically on top of each other, barely having time to shut the door before the car began on its way. You would have fallen out if Peeta hadn't grabbed your arm.
When you were both on the train, you were taken aback by the amount of food that greeted you upon arrival, and by the look of complete indifference on Peeta's face. You immediately grabbed a slice of bread with an orange coating on it, stuffed it in your mouth and shut your eyes against the deliciousness, savoring the taste on the buds of your tongue as long as you could before you were forced to swallow so you wouldn't choke. You grabbed a glass of juice from beside a tray of cream-filled donuts, and gulped it down before looking over at Peeta who was staring out the opposite window with a grim expression.
"Why aren't you eating?" you asked after a drawn out "ahh" of satisfaction and pat of your stomach, and then you remembered that he was a Victor, and he had a never ending supply of food. He probably went to the Reaping with a full stomach. But then again, maybe not...even though he had a very high social status among the rest of you in District 12, he rarely acted above you. He ate what you ate, and sometimes slept where you slept, in his old house, still having an obligation to help with the bakery. Only when he had to did he act otherwise, and that was when he was on tour with Katniss.
Katniss.
How you hated that girl and her fake love for someone you had real feelings for...she only "fell in love" with Peeta so that she could get out of the arena. You were glad she didn't die, but you hated the reason for which she didn't. So your crush on Peeta meant nothing, because nothing could happen. Not when the cameras were always fixated on him and her, broadcasting them to all of Panem as the "star-crossed lovers" of District 12. They were far from star-crossed, and you knew that...she was just hungry one day like the rest of you and Peeta happened to have burnt some bread. That's not really an impressive story in your opinion.
You were so lost in your raging thoughts of Katniss, that you didn't notice Peeta standing beside you, examining a piece of bread in his hands. You looked at him quickly, startled, and blushed. You turned away just as fast so that he wouldn't see the tint in your cheeks. You looked back after a moment as he began to talk.
"For something that's supposed to be unlike any other in the world," Peeta began, turning the bread over in his hand, "I've tasted better." He took a bite and swallowed, licking the glaze off his lips. You almost died. He looked at you. "And I made it." You smiled slightly and he laughed, stuffing the rest of the bread into his mouth and walking to the corner of the train, sighed and dropped into a chair. "I can't believe this is happening again," he said and your heart began to pound in your chest, trying to find the right words to say to someone you didn't even feel you had a right to talk to.
"I'm sorry," was all you came up with. He looked at you again.
"Don't let anyone here you say that," he said, "we're supposed to congratulate each other." You stared at him in confusion.
"For being forced to kill each other?" you asked.
"Pretty much," he said. He looked away from you and back out the window, breathing in and out slowly as if to relax himself. But you knew there would be no relaxing for either of you. Not really.
"I don't think it's fair," you blurted out, "we're not even part of District 13."
"Well that's because there is no District 13," he said slightly accusingly, and still not looking your way. You were thrown off guard by his hostility, having watched his Games last year and seeing how nice he had treated Katniss. You supposed you weren't as pretty as her, and thats why he was paying you no attention. And then, as if you could possibly forget, you remembered they were lovers and his life depended on not paying you any attention. You licked your lips, just now realizing how dry they were, and hoped in your heart that Peeta hadn't noticed. There was no cure for something as simple as dry lips, and especially this time of year, it was almost as unattractive as a bad case of conjunctivitis. Almost.
"I'm sorry," you said, finding yourself unsure of what to say again. He tore his eyes from the window and looked your way. Your face turned red and you hid it with your hair. He sighed.
"Come sit down, will you?" he said. You didn't move. "Please." You felt tears well up in your eyes at his invitation, it seemed so heart-felt. But every time you began to be lifted by the thought of him actually caring for you, you remembered her. You remained standing with your hair covering your face, your head and heart pounding, until you heard the sliding doors open and you both looked over in response. Katniss walked in. Peeta stood up.
"I'm so sorry," she gasped, walking quickly to Peeta and throwing her arms around his neck. Your stomach panged with anger but you tried not to let it show on your face.
"It's gonna be okay," he said, running a hand over her hair and holding her close. Of course she was the one who needed reassuring. Even though she wasn't the one about to go get slaughtered in the Games. They both broke apart and she looked at you.
"I'm supposed to say congratulations, but I'm not going to," she said, walking over. "I hope you're not going to rat me out." You tried not to, but your face broke out into a sort of half-smile. You really wanted to hate her, but she made herself so easy to like. You broke down and began to cry. She immediately enveloped you in her arms. "Shh," she whispered as you heard Peeta walk over. "You're gonna be fine." Peeta placed a hand on your shoulder from behind and gently pulled the hair from your face that was sticking where your tears fell. His touch sent electricity through you and you choked on a sob, burying your face in Katniss's shoulder to make it inaudible.
"Please come sit down," Peeta said again, and you allowed Katniss to lead you to the chair opposite the one he had been sitting in. You fell into it, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your forehead against your knees. You let the tears fall silently now as Katniss sank into the chair beside you, and Peeta reclaimed the one had before. They were both quiet until you looked up again. You were conscious of your puffy eyes and runny nose, and so was Katniss. She handed you a tissue. You thanked her and rubbed your nose.
"I'm sorry," you said for the third time in an hour. But for a different reason this time.
"Don't be sorry," Peeta said. You looked at him and he wasn't smiling, so you quickly looked back at the tissue in your hand. You sniffled.
"I'm gonna let you two catch up," you said, standing up and walking to the sliding doors.
"Wait," Katniss said but you were already gone, walking quickly to your room, embarrassed that you had let yourself fall apart in front of Peeta. It was Katniss's fault for trying to make a joke in such a delicate situation. She had no heart, you decided. Not for anyone except herself and the ones she loved. And she didn't love you...she probably thought you were going to die. You were just a piece in the Games she was forced to watch you play. But that's probably all she would do: watch. She would round up a bunch of sponsors for Peeta, get him plenty of food and water, and just watch you die. You hoped that she did just that, so that the world could see how cruel of a person she really was. As you neared your room, Haymitch Abernathy came walking out of his.
"Congratulation, sweetheart," he said with a drunken stupor and a sarcastic smile. You rammed past him. He fell backwards into his door, the drink in his hand spilling slightly. He began to yell but you didn't hear what he said as you ran into your room and slammed the door shut. You pressed your back against it and started to cry again. You threw yourself onto the bed on your stomach, hugged the pillow to your face and began to scream. You continued to scream until you passed out from lack of air and didn't wake up again until there was a knock at your door.
You jumped.
"What?" you said, trying to sound as normal as possible. If it was Peeta, you didn't want him to see you unraveled like before.
"Come on to lunch, dear," came the voice of the woman who had sealed your fate in the first place: Effie Trinket. "We're almost to the Capitol!" Almost to the Capitol? Did you really sleep a whole day and a half? Your heart skipped a beat inside you, and the tears came again. But you pulled yourself to your feet as your stomach grumbled, and walked out the door. You followed Effie to the dining room where Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch were already seated. You sat down at the opposite end, keeping your head low as you were served your first dish. Soup.
"How are you feeling?" Katniss asked from across the table as you began to eat, quickly filling your stomach so you could go back to bed. You said nothing.
"Well I'm feeling great," Haymitch said sarcastically, rubbing his elbow high in the air so you could see. You ignored him.
"I need you all to remember to bathe right after lunch!" Effie said, "Especially Jacklyn and Peeta." Your stomach churned and you almost brought up your soup. "And don't forget under your nails!" she said, looking directly at you, "otherwise your prep team will throw a fit." You swallowed your last spoonful and went to get up, but stopped when you noticed Peeta now beside you. You stared at him.
"Are you doing okay?" he asked, "we've been wondering." You didn't say anything, you just looked down at your fingers, playing with them. "You were asleep for over a day."
"I guess I just needed to sleep," you said lowly, still looking down. He stood up.
"Do you need me to show you where the bathroom is?" he asked. You looked up at him. His eyes seemed sad. Maybe he was just tired.
"I think I can find the bathroom," you said, standing up and brushing past him as the server came around with your next plate.
"You really should eat before we get to the Capitol!" Effie called after you, but you ignored her. She began to complain, saying I was acting just like Katniss at the beginning last year, not caring and doing whatever you please. As her voice died away when the sliding doors closed, you turned on your heel and brought your fist through them, slicing your knuckles open and piercing the air with the screams of Effie and Katniss. You turned again and stomped to the bathroom, walked in and turned to see Peeta stepping around the girls who had gathered at the door, and over the glass on the floor to get to you. He seemed concerned. You didn't care. You slammed the door in his face.
End of chapter 2