Chapter 3) Repetition and Realizations AKA Tributes out of Bed!

Cato was still staring at me, he was begging me to look into his eyes. I couldn't let myself do that; I had to be strong. So he asked me again "Why wouldn't you want to go home Clove?"

" I don't want to go home because my home life isn't perfect either." I ran from the room, hoping he would take the hint and not follow me. I also should have known that that would never happen. I heard his loud, heavy footfalls behind me. I didn't stop; I kept running until I reached my room. I was almost alone. So close. I was just closing the door as his foot caught in between the door and it's frame. He threw himself into my room and shut the door behind him. Cato grabbed me around the waist and lifted me up. He threw me over his shoulder and tossed me onto my bed. Seconds later, he was in it as well.

Cato was sitting on my feet so I couldn't get away from him. He looked so innocent, staring up at me with his big eyes. He resembled a puppy, not that I had ever had one, and he was just as cuddly. I knew he wasn't going to leave me alone until I told him the truth. I just didn't know where to start. What do I tell him first? That I love him too or that my home life isn't perfect either? Which would mater more? Which would make our time together last longer? The answer to that was neither but one would make it more real. If I told Cato about my life, telling him I loved him would make it better.

" My life at home isn't perfect either Cato; my life at home is a lot like yours. My parents treat me like I don't exist unless I've done something wrong. Neither of them pay attention to me. They don't speak to me, listen to me or try to help me. They ignore me. My father has only ever said 'I love you' once. My mother hates me. The only time she's nice to me is when I can do something for her. They aren't parents. They're prison wardens. At least your parents love you, even if what they think about you is completely false." I said all of this in about 2 minutes flat.

Cato was still staring at me with those big eyes. He was slowly moving towards me, because I had started to shake. My entire frame was trembling like a leaf in a storm by the time he wrapped his strong, bare arms around me. He said nothing. He just let me cry. Cato held me for an hour until the sobbing subsided. He just whispered in my ear " It's going to be okay Clove, everything will be different now." over and over until I calmed down. Finally, I looked at him, he also had tears in his eyes. Strong, bloody, brutal Cato was crying for me. Or so I thought.

He stared at me and whispered " Clove, we never have to go back. We don't have to see them ever again. We will go into this Game, we will do our very best and if one of us makes it home? We never have to speak to them ever again. We will be the ones with the power, the ones who they want to speak to, the providers. Clove don't you see? This is the glory of the Games. We can change our lives. We will make our lives better. Are you in?"

This was the longest I had ever heard Cato speak. " Of course I'm in Cato. We will get through this together." I said. Cato's arms were still around me and with me agreement he drew me into his chest.

We stayed like this all through the night, dozing in and out but talking in hushed tones the whole time. We talked about school, the knife shop, our friends. Who we would miss, who we were happy to leave behind. Cato had just been telling me about the time his friend Neil jumped off the roof of the school for fun when I interrupted him. Through the large window in my room a spectacular sight had just appeared. We were approaching the Capitol and I wanted to get a closer look. "Come on Cato, lets go to the back of the train!" He agreed, with the stipulation that he could put a shirt on first. The idea made me kind of sad, to be honest, but I agreed and we parted ways.

I got up and walked to the chest of drawers. I needed to be warm but I needed to look cute. I had felt so comfortable with Cato that I had nearly forgotten that I wanted him to want me. We hadn't said anything about his confession of feelings so I had to keep him interested. 'UGH I sound so stupid!' the voice in my head called out. Whatever. I pulled on a pair of soft, black leggings and a large red sweater. The sweater sat just off my shoulders and showed a bit of skin. It was perfect. I patted down my hair and left the room. Cato was waiting for me in front of his door in long pants and a tee shirt with a sweatshirt over it. He had a blanket in his hands and a thermos. I looked at him with a puzzled expression but he just smiled back. We set off to the last car in the train. The great thing about this car was that the entire back wall was made of glass. It could even be opened up so you were out in the open.

"Do you want to open it?" Cato asked.

" No, no. Its really loud. Sparta showed me before." I replied. We sat on one of the couches and looked out at the amazing city beyond our window. The city rose up like a mountain in the distance. Huge buildings, parks, plazas of pastel stone and shiny glass. I was in awe; it was so beautiful. During this time I thought Cato was looking at the view too, but when I went to sneak a glance at him he was looking at me. " You know, you keep staring at me. Wanna tell me why?" I asked.

" Really Clove, you have to ask? I'm pretty sure I told you that I care for you and you haven't said anything at all. Why are you keeping my hanging? Please tell me the truth. Do you even like me?" Cato looked so sad, so unsure of himself. He looked so vulnerable. It was making me sick to look at him like that.

"Cato, I have liked you for three years. I go into that knife shop almost more to see you than to see the knives." I started but then I paused. I was about to say something else when Cato's arms were around me again but this time one was on my hip and the other was on the back of my neck. He pulled me into him and his lips were on mine again. This time it was different. The kiss was soft, slow and amazing. It felt like my heart was going to explode. I was finally kissing Cato.

It was pure bliss.