A/N: Thanks for the feedback! I didn't think I'd get that many hits in like 3 hours!

DISCLAIMER: I'm not Suzanne Collins.

Chapter 3

It's been about 15 minutes. I dry my eyes and wash my face. Then I change into a green long-sleeve shirt made out of a very soft, downy material and some simple brown pants.

As I walk into the hall of the train, I practically run into Storm. I look up at him, startled.

"Oh! Sorry," he says to me.

"No! It's my fault," I reply. "I should've looked where I was going."

"So, do you think our parents are gonna bust us out of this one? Or are we gonna hope the rules haven't changed since my parents won?"

"Wow. Don't be evasive or anything," I laugh. "If they don't 'bust us out', as you say, then I'm going with option 2, seeing as I don't want to be killed."

"Good point! Very good point," he nods back. "Who's our mentor? Or do we even have one?"

"Uh… Seeing as the mentors would all be Capitol people, I think we're on our own," is my reply.

"Okay then!" Storm claps his hands, "What can you do?" he asks me.

"Should we take this into my compartment?" I ask, warily checking the hallway.

"Yes we should," says Storm, hesitating slightly as if to ask why.

Once we stepped into my compartment, I sit down on my bed. "Well, first of all, I'm no girly-girl. I can throw a pretty decent knife, I'm okay with the bow and arrow thing, and I can throw a spear if it's not too heavy," I answer. "What about you?"

"Um… I know how to use a sword, and I can wrestle," he pauses, "Oh! And I can shoot with a bow and arrow."

"So you have your mom's talent?" I grin.

"Not exactly…" he smiles back. "You could say I'm half Mom, half Dad, all me!" he laughs.

"Hey!" I look up, surprised, "That's what people say I am!"

"Great minds think alike!" he quotes.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever!"

"Uhuh. That's not what you'll be saying in the middle of the Hunger Games," he says, suddenly going into reality and pulling me with him.

"Do your parents talk about it much?" I say in barely a whisper.

"Not really," comes the reply, "I mean, Dad has his 'moments' and Mom still wakes me up with her blood curdling screams, but they don't usually have to talk to communicate about that stuff. I only learned about it at school and even there the teachers tried really hard to 'protect' us from the reality of it all. I mean, come on! My own parents were involved in the war. My mom was the freaking face of the revolution!" His voice rises.

I let him calm down for a second. "Do you think we should stick together in the Arena?"

"Yes. I mean, as long as the rules haven't changed and two from the same District can still win," he says hastily.

I sigh. "I can't believe I'll be playing for 12. I mean, being from 2 and all, you would think that I'd be playing for them…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I'd be afraid of who was going from my actual district!" Storm laughs ruefully.

"I hope it's not my best friend, David," I say, suddenly scared for my friends.

"Well, there are a lot of kids in 2, right? What are the odds?" Storm calculates.

"The odds haven't been in my favor today…" My words sink into me. Odds. Strangely, I don't think the odds are what got me here. I think my family history had something to do with this.

"Hey, I think it's the kids whose parents were important in the war. I think they were the ones who got picked. You know, your parents, well your parents were really big in the war. My dad was on the All-star film team and my mom is Boggs' niece... So-" I get cut off by Storm.

"So that means that Lyssa will be there. She's Johanna Mason's daughter," he adds. "Do you know them?"

"Oh! No, I haven't met either of them, but I know my parents know or at least knew Johanna," I shrug.

"Well, Lyssa's a really cool girl. I really hope she didn't get reaped for 7…" Storm trails off and gets a faraway look in his eyes. I take this opportunity to think.

My name is Aster Hawthorne. I'm 14 years old. I'm from District 2. I'm in the Hunger Games. I'm playing for District 12 alongside Storm Mellark. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I'm confused. I won't die… I hope… I might die… I probably will die… I know I'm going to die…

Storm comes out of his daze about the time I finish thinking. "So what's our strategy?" he asks me.

"Stay alive!" I chuckle ruefully.

"Seriously?" he groans.

"Okay, I say we grab what we can from the Cornucopia and run towards a wooded area. If they have one. Which they should…" I get lost in thought again and this time, Storm snaps me out of it.

"Aster?" Storm says in a tone so soft, it's barely audible.

"Yeah?" I reply, trying to mimic his tone.

"Promise me that one of us is going to live." Storm sounds kind of scared now. Great. Just what I need. A guy who just happens to be my partner who is like 5'8 as opposed to my 5'2 is scared. Whoopee.

"No, I'm not promising that," I reply, determined to sound strong.

"Why?" The million-dollar question…

"Because we're both getting out of there."

My name is Aster Hawthorne. I'm 14 years old. I'm from District 2. I'm in the Hunger Games. I'm playing for District 12 alongside Storm Mellark. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I'm confused. I won't die… I hope… I might die… I probably will die… I know I'm going to die…

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