AUTHOR'S NOTE:
okay so just so you know, I own no rights to the hunger games, or anything like that.
When I woke up, I thought it was all a dream; the balcony, the star (my star), the lights, Quincy, the hunger games, the train, Rick... For a second, just a second, I thought that I dreamed all this up, and today was the reaping day. Then I noticed the train's movement, Quincy's sweater still on me, his scent still in the fabric, like citrus and mint, all at the same time. Then I remember: if this is real, then the hunger games are real too. I'm really going to die, unless I kill 71 other kids, some 12 years old, some my friends. Tom... I have to kill Tom or die myself. That's when it hit me. Quincy'll have to die too if I'm gonna live. I can't kill him, I love him. This brings on an new round of tears. That's when the door opens, and Rick walks in. "I heard crying. What's wrong?" He says, then he notices the sweater, that's now in my hands, my face buried in it. "So, you and Quincy, huh?" I look up at him, tearfully, and I see a friend. A (very) good-looking friend, but still just a friend, so I tell him. "Yeah. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went to the balcony in the caboose, and he was there..." Rick seemed more interested. "Oh really? And are you gonna tell me how you ended up swapping clothes?" He asks, laughing and grabbing Quincy's sweater. Rick really makes me laugh sometimes. "We didn't swap clothes! Jeez. I was just cold in my pj's, so-" "You had a little cuddle on the bench, for body heat?" Rick's full-out belly laughing now. "NO. Wow who do you think I am? He just gave me his sweater, and that was it. Ok?" Rick looked a bit disappointed. "You sure?" "Of course I'm sure!" He was tossing the sweater back when the door opened a second time. It was Quincy in the doorway. "Hey I heard noises, you ok? Oh, Ricks here. Sorry I didn't see you." He looked troubled, like something was wrong. Well I would too, I guess, if i walked into my girlfriend's room and fund her talking to an other guy that you knew she liked... I'll talk to him later about it. "Yeah. Rick heard crying so he came in, and I was just explaining as to why I have your sweater..." I say, truthfully. He looked relieved. "Okay, well I was just wondering if you'd like to go to breakfast with me." Rick jumps in, "well you know I'd love to, but I'm not very hungry at 7:00 am, so I'll leave you two lovers alone," and with that, he left, chuckling.
"So what was that about?" Quincy asks, on the way to breakfast. Well, I knew I'd have to tell him eventually. "Well, I woke up, remembered I was on a train to doom, and cried, Rick heard sobbing, so he came in, and noticed that I had your sweater, and asked about it, so I told him, briefly, how I ended up with your sweater in my room. This made Quincy smile. "Wow, so that's it?" "Yup" I laughed a bit. "That's it." We walked into the dining car, hand in hand. It felt like everyone was staring at us. Well, I guess they were. I felt Quincy tense up beside me.
We sit in the middle of the table, like yesterday, and are soon joined by Skylar. "Hey, you two!" How did he know? "Hey Skylar," we say together. "So can either of you guess where we are?" Asks Skylar. "Um..." I have no clue, so I turn to Quincy. Apparently getting the message, he says, "the Capitol?" A huge grin comes across Sklyar's face. "Yes! Now, you guys were gone when we watched the reapings from the other districts, so you're gonna watch the recap now, ok?" "Ok, but can I go get Tom first? He missed them too, remember? He was crying in his room" I say, laughing.
I find Tom in the solarium, which is a glass room that sticks up through the top of the train. It has smooth floors and a lot of empty space, perfect for ripstikking. He was in the middle of a wheelie when I stuck my head through the trapdoor in the smooth floor. He swerved and narrowly missed my head, making me scream and fall off the ladder, and the force from the turn made him fly off his ripstik, so we both ended up landing at the same time, me butt-first on a comfy couch, and him face-first on the concrete floor. Ouch.
So anyway we were in the hall, when Tom brought Quincy up. "So... You and Brad #2, huh?" Oh why did he bring Brad up? You see, Brad was my best childhood friend, till his dad's boat exploded, so he and his mom moved to district 7 when we were 12, and I haven't seen him since. It's been 2 years, but I still remember our last conversation. He told me he loved me, and I just said "Oh, ok" I never told him that I loved him back. More specifically, we were saying goodbye, and he hugged me and told me he loved me, and I just froze. Why, oh why didn't I say something... Anything? So when I met Quincy, he seemed familliar, but I didn't know why, then I remembered Brad, and how Quincy has almost the same eyes as him, almost the same fair skin, almost the same blonde hair, almost the same cute shyness... So Tom calls him Brad #2. "Yo? Caroline?" Tom's voice brought me back. "Oh um yeah, me and Quincy are together, why?" I say. "Well, you know, I thought you liked Brad..." He looked confused. "Tommy, you and I both know we're never seeing him again, and, either way, Quincy's not lie Brad. He's more my type. He's taller, smarter, cooler... Not Brad at all" I explain, but I can't. Basically, Brad is the past. Like a brother. Fuzzy memories or cinnamon buns, a trampoline, forts... Brad's my childhood. The only thing's I'm not a child. I've changed so much over the past 2 years, I'm not the same person.
When we got to the dining car, Skylar was fast-forwarding past district 4. I just sat down next to Quincy when Skylar pressed play. The reapings were a lot like any other year. Some noticable ones were 3 girls from 2 that were all reaped, clinging to each other: The oldest one was name Abby, she was tall and skinny, with curley hair. The next one, Anna, was about my height, a little heavier, and had long, dark hair. The last one was kelly. She was, in a few words, small and vicious. She was tan, and had a ton of brown hair. These three looked like good allies. Skylar wrote their names in a notepad. Then there was a hunk of a man in 3, named Rel. He was definitely a prospective ally... My heart broke when a chubby 12-year-old named Eric got reaped, but the biggest shock of all was Brad. Yes, Brad, from district 7, my childhood friend, got reaped. I turned white. Quincy asked me if I was ok. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I know that kid." Quincy looked confused. "How? He's in 7." So I explained how he was my best friend, and his dad died, and he moved away. I just left out the love part. Quincy jumps up. "Hey, do you know what this means?" I don't. "This means that Brad's on this train!" He almost screamed with excitement. "Oh." I haven't thought of that. Tom's vainly containing his laughter. "Hey Skylar, do you think we can go talk to a few tributes? You know, making allies..." Tom looked like he had an evil plan. Uh oh.
We got to the middle part of the train: district 7 territory. Right away, a blonde guy, my height, slightly pale, with piercing blue eyes, comes. Brad. He hasn't changed a bit, but apparently I did, because he didn't recognize me. That hurt like a pole to the face, full speed on a ripstik. "Hey! This is district 7 territory. Go back to district 4," he said. That was it. I couldn't hold back, so I let go of Quincy's hand, stepped forward, and said, "Hey, Brad. remember me? Oh and for your information, we're not lost, we were sent here by Skylar O'daire, to make alliances." We weren't, of course. He freaked out at the very idea or us exploring, but we "misunderstood." After a minute of staring blankly at me, Brad turned white. "Caroline?" He looked lost, trying to find familiarity in my face. I just smile, the same annoyingly crooked smile as always. "Better believe it." He looks at me again. "Whoa, you've changed." Well, that's true. I've gotten taller, thinner, lost my baby face, my body's more toned, my hair's lighter, and I'm a bit paler. "Yeah. Well you haven't. You still look like that little kid that got stuck on the wall." I turn to Quincy and Tom to tell the story of the wall "A few years back, I convinced Brad to climb up on the wall, you know, the only wall left from the old justice building? It's full of little crags and hollows that make climbing easy, and it's surrounded by water 30 feet deep, so it's not like it's dangerous or anything. Oh and did I mention it's 5 meters high? Anyway, long story short, Brad climbed it, got scared, and started bawling." Everyone laughs, except Brad, who turned beet red. "Okay, well I'll join your alliance, just as long as no one mentions any funny little stories about me from 5 years ago, ok?" We all agree.
We met Anna, Abby and Kelly a few minutes later. We got along right away. Rel also reacted nicely to our plan. We now have an alliance of 9. All we had to do was keep it from Skylar 'till training, and our master plan will have succeeded.
We got into the training building that afternoon. I also got to meet my prep team.
There were 4 of them. Their names were Constantina (makeup), Jessica (hair), Corrina (wardrobe), and melina (nails, acessories, and other details). I also had an avox girl named Crissa, who did waxing and brows.
They all looked normal, if you consider sculpted nails, gold tattoos in your skin, diamonds and rubies in your teeth, skin and eyes, and bows and hearts on your eyelashes... My stylist, Clary, however, looked half normal. She was tall, thin, had brown hair, green-brown eyes, and slightly tanned eyes. In short, she almost looked like an older me, but with intricate gold tattoos that just barely show on her tanned skin. Creepy.
"Oh my gosh! You are so gorgeous in person!" Clary gave me a big hug. "I have so many ideas... Come with me." She led me into a huge room. Clary gave me the grand tour; the drawing area, complete with a drawing table, light, and every kind of drawing material you can think of, the sewing area, with mannequins dressed in the prettiest and strangest outfits of life, a sewing table, a rack with about a roll of every kind of fabric you can think of in every color and design that exists, and a small chest of drawers. Then there's the kitchen, where the fridge is hidden under sketches of outfit designs, the sleeping area, with a huge, ornate bed, a T.V area, complete with a large, plush couch and a huge TV, which playing project runway at the moment, and finally a door marked "little stylist's room." Oh and did i mention that all the walls and ceilings were plastered with sketches of outfit possibilities and quite a few snapshots of me from various angles? "So, this is what a stylist's room looks like. Nice." More like huh. Than nice, but whatever.
I was then led into a large room, featuring a manicure/pedicure station, shelf upon shelf of nail polish and makeup, a tattoo gun, bottles of liquid gold, jars of gems of various sizes and colors, a hair station featuring scissors of all kinds, dyes in every color, a hairdryer, straightener, curler, crimper, waver, rollers, and clips. In a corner, I saw a sauna, tub, shower, and cold pool. There was also a massage table with a magnifying lense over it, and a huge chest of drawers with one of those rolly ladders you find at libraries attached to it, and a row of hooks with various scrubbers hanging from them. I immediately knew this would be my makeover room.
"Okay, so I'll be back, but in the meantime, the prep team's gonna come and do the basics, so wait here, kay, Caro?" She called me Caro without me asking, so I officially deemed her a non-creep. "Okay, Clay," I say, making up a new nickname for her, "it's your new name," I explained. Clary left, laughing.
And now, I wait.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
OOH! what's this?
\/
\/
\/
\/
\/
\/
lol anywayyy REVIEW!