"This breakfast sucks."
"Why can't you be polite? Plus, it's rude to start eating before everyone has arrived."
"Whatever you say, Sunshine."
"Don't call me that."
"I'll call you whatever the hell I want."
"You don't respect me at all."
"Well, it's hard to respect somebody when they're dressed up like a stick of cotton candy."
Tuck and I walk in to find Dibby and Caven well involved in their new favorite activity: bickering. Dibby's eyes flash to us and she paints a false smile on her face. She hides her hangover well, though I can register the aching in her face as she squints in the light. As per Caven's instruction, I don't mention the incident last night. I wonder momentarily if Dibby even remembers. If she does, I'm sure Little Miss Capitol Princess doesn't want to and will do everything in her power to obliterate the memory.
"Welcome, darlings," she pulls out a chair for me and pats the seat, "Breakfast is all laid out for you."
"Don't bother," Caven snorts. "It's disgusting."
"Would you not talk like that?" Dibby tries to remain composed, but her tone is snappy. "You'll spoil their appetites before they've even tried it. Kids," she addresses us cheerily, "I think it's delicious. If that means anything to you."
"It's Capitol crud," Caven warns. "Eat too much of it, you might turn into saltwater taffy. That's what happened to that one." He points a thumb in Dibby's direction and her eyes narrow only marginally before she smiles broadly and laughs it off.
"Well, aren't you a comedian?" She laughs. "This isn't a roast session, though, it's a breakfast in which I'll be teaching these two some important aspects on how to behave before we arrive."
"You?" He laughs. "Teaching?"
"I took classes, you know!" She furrows her brow. "I wasn't born with any special talents, not like my sisters, so I took classes in comedy, etiquette, public speaking, fashion, and acting, so you could say I'm sort of an expert at the art of charisma." She grins. "Oh, napkin in your lap, please, sweetheart. We'll be dining with some fairly important people-" she hands me a napkin and I comply, eying her warily. "It's only two more short hours until our arrival, and Caven and I," she nudges him with the toe of her heel as he starts to doze off, "have some important advice for you. Oh, go ahead and eat! It's not poisoned, you know!"
"Right," Tuck takes a huge spoonful of sticky pink oatmeal and shovels it into his mouth.
"Let us use our table manners, please, Nantucket," she scolds mildly, "Caven, your advice?"
"My advice? Right," Caven sits up a little, slow eyes looking me and Nantucket up and down. "Stay alive."
"How?" I ask as he starts to get up.
"That's a silly question," he scoffs. "Presuming you follow that little tidbit, which I know you won't-"
"Please." He sits back down.
"Alright, then," he looks me up and down, examining me from a new angle. "You might have some iron in you yet." Dibby fusses a little as I dribble tea on my white skirt, leaning down to dab at it with a paper towel. I don't bother swatting her away. "You really wanna go home, huh?"
"Very much, sir," I try to sound polite.
"Don't call me 'sir.' It makes me feel old. I'm thirty-six."
"She's just trying to be polite-" Dibby starts.
"Shut up," Caven snaps. Dibby bristles but Nantucket reiterates the question before all hell can break loose. Dibby hardly gets in a, "That's no way to talk to a lady of my class!"
"What advice would you give then, specifically?" Tuck asks in the nick of time.
"Specifically? Listen to that one," he winces and points at Dibby, "Because as much as it kills me to say this, your sponsors are more important than your skills. In the end, they decide who lives and who dies. The Capitol will make sure the crowd gets what it wants. So first off, be charismatic. Be polite. Make those Capitol idiots love you."
"That's not-!" Dibby protests, but Caven plugs on:
"When you're in the arena, don't go for the Cornucopia. They'll have it there, no doubt. It's a bloodbath. Do what you can to get away from it. It'll tempt you, don't doubt it, but don't go for it. Don't try to make an alliance with the Careers. Those are the specialty kids from one, two, and four. They'll no sooner have you on their team than knife you in the throat. Don't rely on anybody else. Any attachment you have will only hurt you in the end, and you don't want to have to kill your ally in order to go home, either."
"You didn't have to kill your own ally?" Tuck furrows his brow. Caven sighs.
"No, fortunately one of the careers took care of that. Let's talk about you two, though." He shakes his head as though to shake the bad memories out of it.
"How would we find water if we're dehydrated?" Tuck asks.
"Pray to your sponsors," Caven barks harshly. Tuck scowls. "Or walk downhill. Water runs downhill, right?"
"What about food?"
"You can only get that from sponsors, unless you're particularly good with a bow and arrow." He looks at my arms. "Which I really doubt you are."
"If it gets cold out, how do we-?"
"Sponsors."
"So the answer to every question we have," I clarify, "is going to be 'sponsors?'"
"Somebody's a quick thinker!" Caven grins sarcastically, "Your sponsors are your lifeline. They are everything. Not that it'll matter, since you'll probably both be dead the first morning anyway."
"Caven Fetterman!" Dibby squeals.
"I'm done with this conversation," he stands abruptly and storms out of the room. "Stupid, making me talk to them."
"I'll go get him," prim Dibby says, doing her utmost to mask her boiling rage. She carefully stands from the table and clicks across the floor. As soon as the door to the next room clicks shut behind her, shouting erupts. Her voice rises in octaves and decibels and miles per hour as Caven hurls nonsensical insults her way.
"Do you have any idea-"
"-Why the fuck would you follow me, demon lady!-
"-how exactly your actions-"
"-Take off that wig, you look like medusa! You witch!-"
"-undermine my mission-"
"-You're the spawn of Satan, woman, I swear-"
"-and endanger their lives!" The conversation deteriorates from there into unintelligible shrieking (far more shrill, on Dibby's part).
"Shut. Up!" Her voice punctures the air and I hear something snap. Caven, no doubt, taking out his violent anger on some unsuspecting piece of furniture. She gasps audibly and I can visualize her eyes narrowing in my head, one long-nailed finger pointed menacingly at his face. "Have you any idea at all how expensive that table was?"
"Enlighten me," he growls back, "Or better yet, pour me a drink and leave me be."
"You are absolutely incorrigible! How dare you!" She marches primly back into the room and smiles at us, looking frazzled and exasperated. "We're almost there, kids. Aren't you excited to see the Capitol? I'm excited for you; after all, you'll have the experience of a lifetime-"
"Right before we die," Tuck finishes. Dibby's smile sours and she stares wide-eyed into her bowl.
"Look!" I gasp, rushing for the window. There it is, the massive city sprawled out beneath our eyes. The skyscrapers are tall and the architecture is magnificent. The place is alive with colors and lights and my breath is momentarily taken away. I've never seen any place like this in my life!
Then I remind myself that it's the same place that systematically kills twenty-three innocent children every year. That intends to kill me and Tuck. Suddenly, the colors and lights become lurid, almost mocking me. I frown and sit back down.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Dibby sighs.
"No," I cross my legs. "It's a shame."
Short chapter, I know guys. More to come tomorrow! Let me know how you're liking the story so far... that review button doesn't bite!