The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, Cato and I head down to the training rooms.
I'm dressed in a nylon, form-fitting black t-shirt and stretchy black pants. The leather shoes I'm wearing on my feet are comfortable (usually I hate the feel of new shoes, but these are an exception) and my hair is done up in a high ponytail at the top of my head.
When we reach the gymnasium, some of the other tributes are already gathered there, mostly the ones from the random districts like 6 and 9. But then I see the two from 1, Glimmer and what's-his-name, heading toward us, and I inconspicuously nudge Cato. I don't need to look at him to know he's understood. Cato and I start to walk over to the small circle of tributes, coolly ignoring the Glimmer girl and her partner.
The boy steps right in front of us (that's a little cocky) and smiles, saying, "Hi, you're Cato and Clove, right? I'm Marvel. And this is Glimmer." Marvel points to her, and I see that she's making eyes at Cato. For some reason, this pisses me off, and I say quickly, "What can you do?" It comes out harsher than I meant it to, and Glimmer's looking all pouty. Oh my God, I haven't even known her for five minutes and already I can't stand her.
"Well," says Marvel, "I'm good with a spear, and I'm really good at hand-to-hand combat." As I try not to laugh while picturing the outcome of a fight between this boy and Cato, I turn to Glimmer. "And you?" I ask, while Marvel and Cato strike up a conversation on my right. Looks like Cato has accepted Marvel as part of our pack.
And clearly he has no interest in Glimmer, who beams at me in response.
"I can use a bow and arrow."
"Are you good?" I ask, annoyed.
She shrugs. "Sure. And I'm also really good with a mace."
Seriously? A mace? She has to be lying. But I can't tell, because she's always got that stupid flirty smile on her face.
"Fine," I say resignedly. "You're in."
"Awesome!" she says, clearly not picking up on the fact that she is really the last person I'd want for an ally. "Oh, look, District 4!"
Cato, Marvel and I turn around and see a spry-looking girl with long, white-blonde hair and a small boy whose face is scattered with freckles. The girl looks like she could be a good ally, but the boy…
"He's too small," murmurs Cato, and we all nod our agreement.
The girl from 4 sees us and nods in our direction, striding over. The boy seems to know he's not wanted, for he scurries over to join the tributes in the circle.
"Hey," says the girl from 4, who has reached us and is smiling, not cockily, but confidently. "I can throw a trident, run very fast, and I'm quite good at hand-to-hand combat. Allies?"
I look at her in surprise. I like her already, which is the opposite of how I felt about Glimmer when I met her. She seems smart, clearly she's got some skills…
"Okay," Cato says, clearly thinking along the same lines. "You're a Career."
"Cool," she responds, "My name is Saralyn, by the way."
The five of us saunter over to the tributes gathered around Atala, the head trainer. I subtly do a quick count of the tributes. 22 of them are here. District 12 is missing.
And then there they are, walking nervously into the gymnasium. Wow, that girl is skinny. She probably doesn't weigh more than…
"Oh my goodness, they're dressed exactly alike!" whispers Glimmer, and I roll my eyes. Leave it to Glimmer to notice what they're wearing, of all things. But upon closer examination, I realize that she's right. That's weird. I mean, they'll have to kill each other in the arena anyway, so why pretend to be besties?
But Atala starts talking, wrenching me out of my thoughts. She's talking about the training schedule, the stations…
I tune out eventually (being from District Two, I know all this stuff already) and look over at the Fire Girl from District Twelve. She's glancing around at all the tributes, and when her gaze falls on me, I make sure to shoot her a look of pure contempt. She looks away quickly and focuses on Atala, and I smirk. These people are so easy to intimidate.
When Atala finally tells us we can go, I make a beeline for the knives, while Marvel and Cato head for the spears. Glimmer and Saralyn trail behind me, and I realize that while Cato is the leader of the pack, I'm still high up in the pecking order.
Ignoring the two of them, I pick up a huge knife with a blade so sharp I'm sure it could cut through stone. Easily, with what has become a natural extension of my arm, I send the knife straight through a dummy's heart, smiling as I see Cato do the same with a spear.
Glimmer has picked up a bow and arrow and has loaded it easily, while Saralyn hefts a trident. Saralyn hurls the trident through the air and into a dummy's chest, and I nod in approval, sending another knife whistling toward my own dummy, not even paying attention to what I'm doing.
Glimmer still hasn't shot her arrow. She's facing a target, pulling at the string of her bow and frowning. God, if it takes her this long to shoot, what's the use of even having her in the pack? Although, her looks could win us some sponsors. Pondering this, I just can't resist calling, "Glimmer, in the arena you'd be dead by now!"
Glimmer turns around and pouts at me.
"I was only trying to get the feel of the weapon!" she whines. "Fine, I'll shoot." She releases her arrow and misses the center of the target by a couple of centimeters. Okay, not that bad. She'll just have to train hard and she might actually be an asset.
I turn around and survey the other tributes, sending a knife at the dummy with my back to it. I don't have to turn around to know it went exactly where I wanted it to go, since a lot of the other tributes are staring at me, clearly terrified. Pathetic.
After throwing some more knives (seriously, this is too easy, they should have some moving targets) and a couple of spears, Saralyn and I head over to the axe station.
"It might actually be cool to learn how to use an axe," says Saralyn. "I mean, it's not a very common weapon."
"True," I mutter. "But that's because all the other weapons are better." I was taught how to use an axe in District Two, but I never really liked it. I do best with my knives.
The axe station is right next to the camouflage station, and I see Fire Girl and her district partner (from what I can hear of their conversation, their names are Katniss and Peeta) painting themselves to match trees and grass. Seriously, why waste time at boring stations like that? As our trainer talks about the correct stance for wielding an axe, Katniss and Peeta chat about the bakery back in District 12. They're not ever going back there, so really, why talk about it?
That day at lunch, us Careers all sit together, laughing, making fun of the other tributes and tossing bits of food into the air, catching it neatly in our mouths. We're the only tributes that ever sit together.
"Hey," says Marvel, "Look at 12."
I whip around and, sure enough, Fire Girl and Peeta are at the same table, laughing in what is clearly a forced way.
"Why are they acting all buddy-buddy?" I say, frowning. "Have they made, like, a pact not to kill each other or something?"
Marvel laughs appreciatively. "Yeah," he says, "Maybe they think they'll be the final two, and they're just going to lay down their weapons and stand there staring at each other until the Gamemakers blow the victory trumpets."
I laugh at Marvel's joke, and I feel a pang of something. I'll have to kill him in a few weeks. And Saralyn, and Glimmer (although Glimmer might not be such a problem) and Cato.
No. I won't have to kill Cato. The chances of us being forced to do battle are very slim. I sigh, thinking of my promise to Lia. I will come home, no matter what the cost. I will be the victor of this year's Hunger Games.
The next couple of days are the same. Handling the weapons easily and scaring the pants off the other tributes, eating lunch in the dining room, and steering clear of the survival stations. On the day of the private session with the Gamemakers, I don't have to think hard about what my demonstration will be.
"Knives," I say to Cato, who has just asked me this question, even though I'm sure he already knows the answer. "You?"
"I don't know," he replies, leaning back comfortably. "I'll just do whatever feels right, I suppose."
I nod. Cato is good with every weapon in that gymnasium. It doesn't matter which one he chooses, of course he'll get a high score.
They summon Cato, and he disappears through the door. About twenty minutes later, they call me.
I march into the gymnasium and give the Gamemakers a confident smile. Then I stride over to the knives, picking four of the biggest ones and walking over to stand in the center of the room. I draw back and, quick as a flash, I let a knife go, and it pierces the dummy right through the center of the forehead. Then I whip another knife through the air and it skewers the dummy right through the heart. Another one in the abdomen. And I saved the best for last. I draw my arm back and let the fourth knife fly, where it hits the dummy right in the groin. I glance briefly at the Gamemakers, all of whom are wincing and nodding in approval, murmuring to each other with impressed looks on their faces. But I don't care. I'm in my zone, that special zone that is reserved for when I throw my knives. Nothing can mess me up now.
I jog back over to the knife section and pick up four more knives, these ones smaller and more aerodynamic. I sprint back over to another dummy, leaping over a crate full of axes (showing off my speed and agility) and throwing a knife through the dummy's chest just before I hit the ground. Then I turn around so I'm no longer facing the dummy and throw two knives, with my left hand this time. I hear the whistle and then the thud, confirming that I've found my marks (the head and abdomen). The Gamemakers are whooping now, excited to see my superior skill. With my last knife, I scurry backward, nimbly jumping over the crate again. I close my eyes and, from a long distance, pierce the dummy's heart once again.
Smirking, I walk out of the gym.
