Gosh, I think that I'm addicted to writing right now...I'm not sure if this is too soon to update, but oh well. Anyways, this is where it starts to get a bit AU-ish. Hope that this chapter's alright. :3
Oh yes, BTW, Cato looks like he does in the Hunger Games, as do all the other characters.
Katniss' POV.
"They're Careers, Katniss. You can't trust them…they'll kill you the first chance they get!" Peeta sounds annoyed and slightly angry. We are sitting in the living room of our floor, strategizing with Haymitch.
"I think that it was a wise choice, sweetheart." Our mentor sounds pleased. Peeta shoots a look at Haymitch, which says yeah, thanks for directly contradicting me.
"But you should be careful. Can't take too many chances…" Haymitch continues, taking a swig from his liquor bottle.
"Seriously, calm down, Peeta. I'm not officially part of their group yet. Cato just let me sit with them." I add my own point to the argument. True, Cato let me sit at his table this afternoon, but he hasn't said anything about inviting me to join his alliance.
"You have to show them that you're strong if you want to join them. Strong…" The mentor pauses and brings the bottle to his lips again. "Tomorrow I want you to use the bow and arrow in training."
Peeta and I both arch our eyebrows. Haymitch told me not to use the bow originally, this change of mind seems rather sudden. That, and I'm not sure if I even want to join the Careers. Sure, it would be nice to have someone backing you up, but as of today, not many of the Careers seem like they'd stay in the same room as me, let alone have my back.
"Do you think that we should join the Careers?" I ask. Peeta looks furious, the conversation is not going the way he planned.
"I guess. It'd be a lot easier to survive. You just need to get out of there before they start turnin' on you." Haymitch's words sound slurred, and the bottle in his hand is empty. I decide to end the discussion before things get nasty.
"Ok. Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight." I pad into my room and close the door, the day's events still clear in my memory.
Cato's POV.
"Screw you, Cato. Why the hell did you let her sit with us? She's weak. Weak." Clove glowers at me, fists balled at her sides.
Why did I let her sit? I'd been thinking the very thing since lunch. Maybe because she didn't fight like a coward, like Glimmer did in the close combat match. Maybe…
I can't think of any more reasons. The more I think about it, the worse what I did sounds. And the first day of training…she'd been dreadful with that knife. She was weak. Clove was right.
"I don't know. I'll make sure that she knows that she's not part of the group tomorrow." I answer.
Clove seems satisfied. "You'd better. See you tomorrow."
Katniss' POV.
"I don't want to be part of their- or should I say your group. I don't want to become monsters like them." Peeta has been saying things like this ever since we left our floor.
I ignore his reasoning although it might be true. "Don't be ridiculous, Peeta. They're not all monsters. And do you really plan on just leaving me?"
"Well…no." He sighs. "Fine. I'll join if they invite me, but I won't go asking for it." It's as close to agreement as I can get from him, so I nod.
When we get inside the Training Center, I go directly to the weapon selection and pick out a medium sized silver bow. It's not supple wood like the one at home, and the cold metal feels unfamiliar under my hands. The arrows are metal as well. Both are rather light, they must be hollow on the inside.
There are other bows, wood, plastic, materials that I've never seen. All of them have beautiful feathers on the arrows; straight, flawless feathers. But chances are that a metal bow will be the one in the arena, if there is one at all.
Still, I feel powerful with a bow, and I know that I can finally stand beside Cato and Clove and not be jealous of their abilities.
Peeta follows me, a spear clutched in one hand. I purposely shuffle as close to the Careers as possible. I can feel their eyes upon me and hear the snickers. Clove has a smirk on her face, clearly expecting me to fail. Cato is trying to maintain an uninterested mask, but he can't hold back an amused expression, and I can see the corners of his mouth turned up. The others watch, not even trying to hide their nasty grins.
We'll see who's laughing after this.
I take a deep breath and ready an arrow. I pull back the bowstring, and almost laugh at the way that Marvel's grin is fading and Clove's smirk falters. They clearly didn't even expect me to be able to even pull back the strong elastic.
The familiar calm that always appears when I hunt with Gale comes now, a welcome sensation. I look down the shaft of the arrow, my target is a bulls-eye 20 feet away; and let go.
Time seems to slow as the arrow slices through the air. It hits the bulls-eye with a light ringing sound.
"It was a lucky shot. Do. It. Again." Clove's quiet voice carries across the silent room, her eyes narrowed. The smirk has been replaced with a frown.
I let another arrow fly. Bulls-eye. Another arrow…another bulls-eye.
I turn and aim at a different target. And another. When my arrows run out, all the targets in sight have a silver arrow protruding from their centers.
Silence. Marvel and Glimmer's mouths are open, eyes flicking to the arrows lodged in the bulls-eyes. The pair from District 4 is staring, eyes wide. Clove actually looks speechless. Even Peeta looks surprised. And other the non-Careers? They're looking at me as if I had just grown antlers and was eating a knife.
I look at Cato last, afraid of what his reaction is. I could be invited into his alliance, or be labeled as a dangerous opponent.
He is still wearing that amused look from before, although he is past hiding it. He actually looks pleased. I swear that his next words are aimed towards Clove as well as me.
"Not bad, girl on fire. Not bad at all. You're in." There is nothing sarcastic or smug about the way he says it. He means it. I'm in…I'm in the alliance.
Clove growls under her breath, but in the quiet room, everyone hears her. "As you wish, Cato."
Cato's POV.
She surprised everyone, even me. In other words, the girl isn't a complete and utter fail with weapons. If she has a bow, she might just be useful. I chew on a loaf of bread. They just pulled Marvel out for his private appointment with the Game makers. As I swallow, Glimmer is called. This is an important part of the Games. If you scored high…sponsors pay for parachutes to be sent into the arena. If you scored low? Well, good luck with that.
I'm determined to get the highest score. I can handle almost any weapon. The Game makers can't do anything but love my performance. Then I think of Katniss. It still seems strange to refer to her by name.
She's decent…alright, deadly; with a bow. And then there's Clove, with her perfect aim. Luckily she can only use knives, spears are too heavy for her, and bows are out of the question.
When it is my turn, I nod at the encouraging comments from the remaining Careers. After this, I won't be seeing them until the day of the interviews. Not like I care.
I stand up and confidently stride through the double doors that connect the lunch hall and the training center. At the front of the huge room, a long table has been placed down. There are 12 Game makers sitting in chairs, bottles of water at every spot. I know that there are many more Game makers than this; perhaps these are the most important ones. Seneca Crane sits in the center, and looks up as I walk in.
"Cato Greene. District 2." My voice fills the room, stopping all conversations that the Game makers had started amongst themselves. They all turn their attention to me expectantly.
I choose a large knife that looks sharp enough to pierce the air itself, and position myself to throw it at a dummy on the other side of the room. I draw back my arm and throw. The knife hits the dummy in the place where a heart would have been.
There are whispers in the front of the room. I now pick up a spear with a gold shaft. My personal favorite weapon.
The spear is a blur of silver and gold as it arcs through the air, finally skewering the bulls-eye of a target more than twenty feet away. I grin, knowing that the Game makers are impressed.
But my time is running out. There is time to show what I can do with one more weapon. I eye a sword, and weigh it in my hands…perfect.
The dummy doesn't stand a chance. I imagine that it is an opponent, and before I know it, it is on the ground in pieces, chunks of rubber with wood on the inside scattered around my feet. I replace the sword on it's rack, but I don't bother retrieving the spear or knife…the Avoxes would take care of that.
"Thank you." I smirk, knowing that I did well.
Katniss' POV.
"You did what?" Peeta asks as I recount my experience during the private appointment.
"I didn't mean to! I just lost control and-and…" I stammer. Now that I've calmed down, what I did seems exceptionally rash and idiotic.
"And you shot at a Game makers head!" Effie finishes for me, her voice rising. She looks horrified. "If you get a low score, blame yourself!"
"Well, I think that it was brave…although slightly stupid. What were their reactions?" Haymitch leans forward like a child eager to hear the ending of a story.
"They were surprised. One fell into a bowl of punch." I remember, smiling. Haymitch guffaws and pats me on the back.
Later, while Peeta and I are the only ones in the living room, he asks me.
"Why did you even want to join the Careers? Do you want to kill like they do?" His tone is accusing, and I lean back into the luxurious sofa, thinking.
"Or is it because of Cato? I've seen you looking at him during training. You like him, don't you?" Another accusation. Peeta seems very judgmental today.
"What? No! I just don't want to get killed. Seriously, what's your problem?" I practically yell back. Where in Panem did Peeta get that idea from? Gosh, can't I even study my opponents without being criticized? Seriously.
"Oh. Ok. Just checking." Peeta replies, taken aback. "No need to shout."
"Well then, I'm sorry, I really don't know why I started shouting." I answer, sarcasm dripping like honey from every syllable.
"And…I've seen you looking at Glimmer during training. You like her, don't you?" I imitate him, smirking as his cheeks redden.
"Shut up." He mutters, blushing furiously. I laugh at his sheepish expression. It's just like him to legitimately like the pretty blonde.
Peeta's face is still red and I'm still laughing when Effie hustles into the room. Haymitch follows. Both immediately sit down on the free couches and Effie flicks on the television. Oh…oh no. Our scores. My stomach turns and I clutch Effie's hand as the broadcast begins. I'd probably get a 2 or something.
Marvel…9. Glimmer…8. I'm surprised, apparently she is good with another weapon, the bow was perhaps new to her.
Cato…10. Clove…10. No surprise there. I imagine Cato, his smirk moving onto Clove's face as he realizes that she received the same score as he did.
7, 6, 4, Rue gets a 7, Thresh gets a 9. Then, Peeta's picture and name appear on the screen. 7. He lets out a whoop, and we congratulate him.
Then my picture appears, along with my flashing score. I think that they've made a mistake when I see it, and I rub my eyes. But it's still on the screen. Everyone is congratulating me, letting out squeaks of joy, cheering and patting me on the back, Cinna and the prep teams joined us soon after the scores started to be broadcasted, so the living room is practically full.
But as the screen fades to black and the emblem of the Capitol takes the place of my score, it still flashes in my mind.
Eleven.
Eleven.
Eleven.
Oh gosh...Cato's going to be furious.
Hmmm? What do you think? Review please, your reviews are what motivates me to update/write, so keep that in mind. :)