One:
"So," I prop my hands on my hips, "what do you think?"
Clove presses her lips together. "Cramped. And we need to fix up the walls. But hell, I'll probably stress-throw knives into them anyways."
I hold a hand up. "Nobody else but me knows about your, er, talents. Quite frankly I think they'd be more than a little afraid of you if they did."
"Shut up, Firegirl. I think our room would look much less boring with some sparkly knife-turned-coat hangers in the wall." She pairs this statement with one of her innocent grins.
The room contains two beds, two desks, two closets, and a decently sized window. It's on the smaller size but with some organization and plenty of video calls from my mother, who works in the renovating business, it'll do for these four years.
Our door is thrown wide open to the commotions of other freshmen moving into the Emerald Hall dorm of Capitol Academy, "a prestigious institution educating children of all ages since" a year in the 1900s that I don't bother to remember.
I begin to unpack some of the belongings that I brought from home. A picture of my late father, a picture of my mother, and another of my little sister Primrose all go onto a white nightstand.
"Come on!" Clove tugs at my arm. "We're going to miss orientation!"
"Why are you so excited? It's just high school. When you stayed over on school nights in middle school you weren't half as excited," I grumble. "So screw orientation."
She punches me. "Hurry up!"
I straighten up from where I'm loading small things into the dresser and punch her back. "Fine, let's go."
After the long (and predictably boring) freshman orientation that was mainly just the headmaster bragging about how many students they've had go to Ivy Leagues, Clove and I link arms and go find food.
I get a bowl of pasta and Clove buys a slice of pizza. As traditionally, we sit down at a small table, and she cuts half of her pizza off, giving it to me while I dump half of my spaghetti on her plate.
"So," Clove says, munching a mouthful of pizza, "see anyone cute?"
I gape at her with my forkful of pasta halfway to my mouth. "Who are you and what have you done with Clove?"
She blushes. Clove doesn't blush. This is weird. "Um, nothing. Hello? This is high school. Keep your options open."
"Ooh," I grin. "So did you see anyone cute?"
"N-no," she sputters, her fair cheeks flushing. Clove is a terrible liar.
"Is he a freshman?"
Clove turns even redder. "I think…?"
I pretend sigh. "My little Knife Girl is growing up. She's looking at boys!"
Clove's face turns into a glare. "Humph."
I laugh and give her a friendly swipe over the shoulder. "There's the Clove I'm used to."
Clove and I moved in on a Thursday. Monday has rolled round, and Clove shakes me awake at five thirty. "KATNISS!"
I speak without opening my eyes. "What?"
"IT'S THE FIRST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL! Let's take a selfie."
"Shut up."
"Anyways, what should I wear? What are you going to wear? KATNISS!"
I finally crack open my eyes and peer at her. "Since when do you care about fashion?"
Clove sighs. "Because this is high school, and we should make a good impression."
I drag myself out of bed and over to my closet. I tug out a white shirt, fitted dark green pants, and my ever-present boots.
Clove raises her eyebrows at me. "You can't possibly be wearing those. You'll be doing calculus, not hunting in the woods."
I roll my eyes. "Why would I wear a white shirt while hunting in the woods? And why can't I wear these? They're comfortable."
Clove just sighs again.
"Okay, what are you wearing?" I say indignantly.
Clove digs around and grabs a white tank top that most certainly is see-through, a pair of scandalously short denim cutoffs, and black kitten heels.
"What the hell…" I stare at her. "Quoting you, you'll be doing calculus, not trying to get a hot one-night-stand."
"I'm wearing it to screw with the teacher. While he decides if my outfit is appropriate or not, he gets to stare at a hot girl."
"You want to screw a teacher? Aren't you a virgin?"
"No, screw with his emotions. And yes. But that doesn't matter; I've searched through the web. Plus, if he likes what he sees, I might get him to up my grades. It's just in case really."
I stare at her. What is wrong with Clove? "And I suppose you'll be full time hooking up with him if just one night doesn't do it?"
Clove looks thoughtful. "Hm."
"Oh god no. You're turning into such a slut. My best friend since kindergarten is turning into a slut."
"Shut up Katniss."
I hold my hands up. "Alright, but if you get called to the headmaster's office for violation of dress code, I'm not responsible."
"Yes Mother."
"Your 'mother' is going back to sleep. Class starts at eight. I can get up at seven-thirty and make it to first class."
I can practically feel Clove roll her eyes. "As if."
"Fine," I consent, "seven-fifteen."
"That's not what I was looking for! Whatever, Kat, I'm going to get up."
I wake up on time. Change, and brush my teeth, and grab my bag, then go down to get breakfast. I don't think I have time to go all the way to the cafeteria building (and I'm too lazy to go), so I head down the stairs to the first floor's common room, which is stocked with snacks.
I step in, and immediately notice that Clove is curled up on the couch in front of the TV. I shake her until she wakes up. "It's seven-fifty, Clove," I inform her.
"OH CRAP! I came down to get something to eat and I must have fallen asleep. I still have to go brush my teeth and grab all my stuff and be early. Dammit." Clove sprints back up the stairs.
I make some hot chocolate, put it into a coffee cup and pick up an apple. It's seven fifty-five now. Clove had better come soon.
I head out. My first class is, ironically, calculus. I think Clove has her English class first. I set out for the math and science building. Room MS205. Second floor.
My teacher, an elderly man named Beetee Latier, squints at me from behind his glasses. "Why hello, young lady. Name?"
"K-Katniss Everdeen, sir," I stammer.
He nods. "Welcome. Sit, sit, anywhere you'd like."
Most of the class is already present. I choose a seat behind a girl combing her fingers through her long golden hair. She turns as I sink into the chair.
"Hey," she says. "What's your name?"
"Katniss," I repeat.
"Oh hi," she continues brightly, "I'm Glimmer."
"Uh, okay," I say uncertainly. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm actually a junior. Beetee, sorry, Mr. Latier, failed me twice so I have to take freshie calculus." She rolls her eyes. "I swear he did it because he hates me, but what kind of strategy is that? Obviously, the more you fail me the more you have to deal with me. I'll get him back though."
"How?" I ask.
"I'll find a way. Trust me, I have a lot of influence in this school." Her eyes flash. "You don't just mess with me and get away with it."
