Chapter Three

"…so why don't we get straight into details, hmm? We'll sort out things like whether you want to be trained together or by yourself. We usually train together so that our Tributes can help each other out. That gives the Glade a much better chance of having a successful Hunger Games, but of course it is your individual choice to-"

"You are joking, right?"

Thomas looked up from the mug in his hands as the new voice spoke. Brenda was tossing a glare between the ratty-looking Janson and the dark-skinned woman who had been assigned to guide them in lieu of a previous winner. Their district never won and the woman's presence was just a depressing reminder that they were all doomed. Janson frowned, as though a small child had said something out of turn when he was telling a story.

"I really don't believe i know what you mean. It's very much your own choice, but we'd much prefer to train you together to maximise-"

"We're not going to win." Brenda spat incredulously, her eyes full of disbelief as she laughed sourly. "Let's be realistic here!"

Thomas looked at her, knowing she was right and yet wanting not to think about it. He had to get Newt through this, get him out the other side and back to the Glade so that Sonya wasn't left alone. He knew their odds. He'd been forced to watch a pair of his fellow Gladers die every year of his life, a long progressional line of doomed children. He wouldn't let Newt be one of them. He couldn't.

"Well, that's a very negative attitude to have. If we work together on plans and such and get your training in ord-"

"Oh, and i suppose we're just to listen to you, because of course you know what you're talking about." snapped Teresa.

Thomas didn't know much about the blue-eyed girl beyond the knowledge that if prodded she responded with a fierce temper. It was amusing to watch the man squirm in surprise, obviously uncomfortable with the hostility. Thomas wondered benignly if other Gladers had been openly hostile or whether they'd just gone along with it because they knew they didn't have a chance. He wondered what Chuck had done, and then he couldn't stand to think about it any more because of the way his insides burned with a dangerous concoction of guilt and grief. For the first time, the woman spoke up.

"Well, of course we know what we're talking about, dear. This is what we do-"

"Yes, and you do it so well. I mean, Gladers win every other year, don't they, dear?"

Her words were hard and sharp and Thomas could feel the confidence simply draining away from the two adults who were sitting so uncomfortably in their seats and exchanging awkward looks. Despite the humourless situation they had found themselves in, watching them squirm and feel out of sorts gave him a dark satisfaction.

"Well, there are many different ways to win, and there are many districts to-"

Teresa snorted, dropping backwards in her armchair in a loose-limbed manner that screamed contempt. Her attitude was dangerous, Thomas thought. But she hadn't said anything that he himself could dispute.

"To hunt Gladers down like game, we know."

Her dark gaze swept the other tributes, stopping for a moment on Thomas before she pushed herself out of the chair

"You losers can do whatever you like. I'm not interested in group therapy, thanks."

With that she was out of the carriage room and making her way down the hall and out of sight. Thomas didn't blame her. He could feel the irrational and suffocating claustrophobia ballooning inside of him and he was holding the temptation to throw a temper tantrum at bay by sheer will. With a disgusted snort, Brenda stood up and followed after her without a word, tossing a glance back over her shoulder at them as she kicked the door closed.

Thomas looked at Newt beside him. The blonde looked uncomfortable, and when he met Thomas's gaze he could see the depth of it in his eyes. He smiled wryly at him and Newt returned it automatically. Bizarre as he was, Thomas knew Newt was feeling uncomfortable because of the situation, because of how rude he'd found Teresa's and Brenda's reactions. Thomas suddenly really wanted to laugh. Newt's familiar frown formed softly on his face and Thomas knew the blonde knew he wanted to laugh, of course he shucking did, Newt knew everything. He rolled his eyes, but he didn't laugh.

"Well. I was going to say there are lots of other districts to learn from, but uhhm, well."

The man looked severely put out, and Thomas couldn't even feel bad about the little twist of pleasure he took from it. Newt sighed beside him and Thomas knew before he spoke that he was going to be the diplomatic one as always.

"About trainin' together, what exactly do ya mean by that?"

Janson perked up, so obviously grasping at the chance to spout his nonsense that Thomas began to resent him more. Until now he'd reasoned that the man was from the Capitol and that his brain just worked differently like Newt had once told him. He didn't understand the horror of the Games because he didn't view the district children as real people, and he'd been spoon-fed the klunk that the yearly Games tried to feed to them. That being chosen for the Games was something to be proud of, envious of. That fighting for the honour of your district was a privilege. Janson didn't see it as the death sentence that it was for kids like Thomas. His stomach turned. Kids like Newt.

Newt didn't have a violent bone in his body and Thomas knew it. He knew it as more than just knowing, like he knew the blonde liked pancakes but wouldn't admit to it because he thought he should be more mature than that. He knew it like he knew his own heartbeat, like how he anticipated how his insides would react every morning, when he saw Newt for the first time in hours. He felt the knowledge weighing heavy on him like a second skin, trying to suffocate him. He didn't have a clue how he was going to keep him safe, only that he was.

"Oh! It's simple, really. We offer our tributes the choice of going through the training process on their own or with each other. It gives you the chance to keep anything you are particularly good or bad at secret as long as possible, just as we try to from the other districts. Sometimes our tributes decide that they'll be branching out on their own and want to train that way from the beginning. When that is the case we would each take responsibility for that single tribute, myself the boy and Miss Crawford here the girl. Obviously this year we have four of you, but we can still work out individual schedules just the same."

He looked between them expectantly, and Thomas could see how relieved he was to have them still sitting there. He looked like this was fun, like it was all just a game, and Thomas wanted to follow the girls' lead just to irk him. But he also needed as much as he could get of their information and, god forbid, their help to give him the best chance at keeping Newt safe as long as possible. Newt answered before Thomas got the chance.

"No secrets here, right Tommy?"

The blonde turned to him, and Thomas couldn't see the slightest doubt in Newt's eyes that Thomas would want to be trained as a pair. He did have a little uncertainty in his faint smile and it made Thomas want to reach out and reassure him. He grinned perhaps a little too widely when he nodded. Thomas was going to be there through this whole thing, as long as he could be.

"Right. We train together."

Newt flashed Thomas a warm, relieved smile before he looked back at the man. Thomas ached inside. Janson clapped his hands, looking eager to move on, and Thomas felt his hatred sizzle. The guy was finding this whole thing much too enjoyable. The woman got up and headed towards the Food Carriage again, probably realising she had nothing to do now that the girls had disappeared.