So far so good, I suppose. I'm trying to update as much as I can before I get really busy. I'm very nervous about this story.
…
HolyHungerGames: Thank you for your support! I'm glad you enjoy reading this, it meant a lot to hear that :)
littlefuhrman: I'm surprised you've even reviewed my story, I love your work! And I appreciate you looking at mine :)
BelieveInDream: ... I swear to god, I don't even know what to say to you.. your review meant so much to me. It gave me some of the self-confidence I wish I had more of. Thank you.
Noelia: Thanks so much! And I'm very glad you think my English is good! XD And you should learn English! It's work, but it's worth it, I think so. :) What is your native language? I feel the same about Clove, I like portraying her this way and I'm happy you like it as well. Thank you for this review! :)
…
Well. Here goes absolute nothing. It's midnight and I'm exhausted, so feel free to point out the blatant mistakes.
I had a dream my life would be,
So different from this hell I'm living.
So different now, from what it seemed.
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.
- I Dreamed A Dream; Various Artists, Les Misérables
Clove's pen explodes dark blue ink all of a sudden. She tries not to scream when it blemishes everything in its wake, seeping onto her hands and into a blob on her paper. The words she had written are shielded by the ink, all her hard work gone.
Damn pens, she thinks, chucking the defective pen into the silver metal trash can with disdain. She doesn't admit that she had been pressing too hard.
It was 4:00 in the morning on the next day and she was still caught up on what Johanna said. Damn her too.
This was sort of an off day for Clove. It was Friday, and it was the last day of school until new kids. As if their school wasn't packed enough.
The lamb-covered nightgown (which was very childish, but comfy none-the-less) is still pristine and perfect, which she is thankful for. The ink would never wash out of the silk, and she's had this since forever.
Her forehead smashes onto the desk in fatigue and exasperation. When she finally peeks up, she sees the picture of her, Jason, and Uncle Haymitch on top of a ski mountain in Denver. She had a grin—one with her two front teeth missing—and Uncle Haymitch gave a thumb's up to the camera.
He heart drops. She can hardly look at this picture without noticing Jason's cleft lip. They had finally raised the money to fix it, and the scar was healing up well. But she had felt so bad, people everywhere–it was all they were able to look at when they saw him. 'The kid with the lip' they classified him as and Clove had hated it. Sure, her brother was annoying but he was still just about all the family she had left.
She sighs.
Even at 4:00 in the morning, the squeak of the French doors comes and Jason appears in his Buzz Lightyear pajamas, sucking his thumb with his worn, discolored red cape hanging on his back. Sometimes, Clove worried it would strangle him in the middle of the night.
"Clovey I heard a scary sound."
She clutches her forehead, nodding and looking at him. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He bobs his head saying 'yes.' "Maybe you should get back to sleep.. you have a field trip today, don't you?"
"Yes, to the aquarium!" He cheers softly, watching as her finger pushes against her pursed lips, shushing him.
"And I'm very happy about that," She winks. "But let's try to be quiet, I already have a headache." Jason gives her a tiny sliver of a smile – his front teeth missing. "Go back to bed, Jay.. just for a couple hours." And she turns, half-expecting to hear little sock-covered feet leaving the room.
But there aren't. So she turns again. "Jay; bed, please."
"I can't go to sleep without you tucking me in."
"You can't be serious." The brunette scoffs, pulling out the wooden drawer and searching through crushed sticky notes and pencils with stubby erasers until she found a proper black pen.
"I se'wious."
Clove growls under her breath. Sure, she'd been tucking Jason in for awhile now, but it didn't mean she wanted to do it all the time.
"Can we please just skip it tonight? You're a big boy."
"That would be like ice cream without sprinkles," The tiny blonde points out.
Again, Clove makes a sound. Jason's lucky he's so cute. "You'll have to get showered and dressed in the next 2 hours for the bus anyway. We can go lay on the couch for awhile."
Jason's face lights up. "Can we watch Blue's Clues?"
Clove nods her head, silently standing and rolling the chair back into its previous home. She slides her dainty feet into fluffy white flip-flop slippers, then flicking off the lamp. She herself was exhausted, but she didn't like sleep. The same nightmare came every night, her crossing the street with Jason in a cardboard box; this same lamb nightgown (but bigger on her then) sagging on her body.
Every night, she wondered will I make it in time? Every night, she never did. Flashing lights rammed her way and her baby brother went flying out of her grasp.
Jason grabs her hand and she takes him out into the living room, her eyes tingling and her retinas becoming sensitive at the dim light over the stove in the kitchen. The kitchen was right behind where the living room was, illuminating half of the light brown carpet and reflecting onto the black screen of the television.
Jason lays down on the black microfiber couch, cuddling into the blanket Clove drapes over him and watching as the television flickers to life.
A re-run of Jersey Shore comes on, bleeping noises ringing around the room and Clove cringes, fumbling to change the channel until the animals of 64 Zoo Lane show up.
"I thought you said we were gonna watch Blue's Clues?" Jason frowns at her in disapproval.
"It'll come on next." Clove pats his head before walking off into the kitchen, opening the bread box and pulling out an English muffin. She grabs one of the knives they use and slices the rubber-like bread in half in a swift cut.
She's always been good with sharp things. On more than one occasion, she has been the chef.
Into the toaster oven they are thrown and when the click of the orange strip lightbulbs below begins to heat her breakfast, she moves to the pantry door and pulls out some peanut butter.
"Look, Clovey!" Jason calls quietly, pointing at the screen with a chubby finger. "Lucy is sliding down Georgina's neck 'cause Georgina's a giraffe!"
"I see that," Clove says blankly, trying to seem interested. Her little brother looked up to her. He really did, he relied on her. She had raised him as much as she could, taught him the lessons he needed to know while they were in foster care.
She watches as he sucks his thumb, mesmorized by the screen until he calls for her in a whisper-yell. "Clovey!"
"Yes?"
"May I have some Mini Wheats?" He says, a hint of proudness in his tone. Ever since his teacher scolded him for saying 'can I go to the bathroom?' with a sassy 'I'm not sure, can you?' two days back, he's been saying 'may' ever since.
She nods and he goes back to his TV session, once again captivated. She takes out a green bowl, one with a handle – much like a large coffee cup – and then walks the short distance to the pantry once more. She shuffles throughout the varieties of cereals; Lucky Charms, Peanut Butter Crunch, Cherrios, Applejacks, until her hand clasps around the Mini Wheats box.
"Hey Jay?"
"Yeah?"
"They've got the blueberry frosting, is that okay?"
"Yeah."
She pours the frosted wheats into the bowl, hearing the clinking sound as they pile up in there. If there one thing she's learned, it's to not put too many in there. Jason will just crush them up until they looked like oatmeal, anyway.
It was revolting. But he always says even if it's one big ugly mess, it's going to taste exactly the same. He was right, but texture wise it was nasty.
She spills the milk into the bowl next, hearing footsteps coming down the hall and she knew her Uncle Haymitch had woken up. She smirks when Jason calls out to him.
"Hi Uncle Haymitch!"
"Hey little bit, how'you doin'?" He asks and Clove peeks to the side, watching her mother's brother lean down to hug the young boy.
He moves to her next, shifting into the kitchen and leaning against the counter beside her.
"I have a surprise for you today."
She laughs. "Great. You know I love being surprised, especially by you because everything you do is so surprising, Uncle Haymitch."
He chuckles in response. "I know, but.. I think you're gonna like this one."
Cato is exhausted. Absolutely done for.
He collapses onto the bus, where a few New Yorkers glare at him – but he was thankful for getting them to look up from their cell phones.
They stare at him as he re-adjusts, ten different eyes staring at him in ten different ways. It made him uncomfortable. Thankfully, they look away and return to whatever business they were a part of before and Cato looks out the window. No one else was getting on the bus as it sat in the parking lot, that is until a little girl came bobbing down the concrete ramp under the dim lights.
Spirally hair, dark skin, cute hat. He uses these attributes to identify Rue, his airplane buddy. She hops onto the bus, tripping as her suitcase pulls her back down the stairs stumbling.
"Woah! You alright there, kid?" The bus driver says in a thick accent, sound as though he's scolding her and even more so when grabbing her by the elbow.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Rue confirms, and then goes back to get her suitcase. But she can't pull it up on her own.
Cato stands once he realizes the driver isn't helping – assuming it's not part of the service in America – and wraps his hands over the 12 year old's to help her lug the over-stuffed bag onto the bus.
The doors shut with a whack, and he flinches when a grumbling sound is heard from beneath them. Rue and him nearly fly back from the speedy departure, but he manages to catch her and grab hold of a pole.
She looks at him with the warmest smile. "Thanks, Cato."
He smiles back at the word 'thanks.' She taught him that one on the plane.
"Thanks, Rue."
She giggles when they sit down. "I think you mean 'you're welcome.'" But she knew that's what he meant. He would get there. She had already printed him out a list of the 200 most common English words translated from Polish.
She wasn't sure why she was so fascinated by him; maybe it was because he was nice to her and because he understood her, but she hoped they could keep in contact.
"Busy moon," Cato points to the sky, were the faded silouette of the moon is in the dull blue skies of dawn.
Rue grins. "Faded moon." She corrects, finding it funny that he just pieces random words he recalls together and says them.
Cato looks at Rue, wondering what she had said. When he said busy back in his household, it meant voluptous and boisterous, much like Annie–Annie.
He frowns to himself, feeling a pang in his heart. He suddenly realized the weight of the situation without his best friend. They were closer then he thought, as if they were conjoined twins.
"Next stop, Manhattan." The intercom crackles, much like from one of those astronaut shows.
Cato looks to Rue, and she shakes her head no.
Half the people push past to get into the bustling cities of Manhattan, he doesn't appreciate getting elbowed in the face.
Many people leave at Park Avenue and Midtown as well until Rue and him are the only ones left, and they are going over a bridge. A flourescent green sign reads 'Brooklyn' on it as they pass, jiggling by on the bouncy roads.
The bus seems to get colder and Rue, being the 12 year old she was, snuggles closer to her new friend. Cato wonders how someone could be so comfortable with a semi-stranger.
Soon, the vehicle comes to a stop and Rue slowly but surely gets up. Cato watches her with innocent eyes, wondering what's happening. He looks outside, seeing the dimly lit streets and the trash-stuffed curbs; Rue couldn't live here!
"Goodbye," Rue whispers, but she then smiles softly and pulls out a black Sharpie. She takes his hand, writing on the back of it gently. She writes her email. Cato knew what an email was, he had one too! Ma had made him get one after they found out his desparture date.
He was grateful for it when the little girl hugged him one last time and he knew he would have to speak with her again. She reminded him of Annie.
Clove's fingernails tap against her desk as the teacher writes a bunch of dates on the board for history class.. this class was so boring, even if she was good at it. All they learned were these stupid dates of when things happened and why, it was tedious.
As soon as the bell rings, she sandwiches her book back together and stuffs it in her bag, also gathering her pencils and she can feel someone looming over her. She looks up and finds the person she never would've expected to approach her.
Katniss Everdeen.
"Uh.. hi."
Clove blinks as kids fumble to get out of the room, and she longs to join their freight train to leave the awkwardness.
Slowly, she stands, not taking her eyes from the grey-eyed teen's face. "... look, if you want the answers to the English test I–"
"No," Katniss chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. "I actually just thought.. well..." She looks almost shy as she talks to Clove, her face going red in embarrassment. "I don't think you're going to say yes, but since we don't really need to practice English, do you wanna skip next period with me?"
Clove felt a rush of cold heat rushing from her head to her toes. She hadn't skipped school in a long time. Not since freshmen year. That was 2 years ago, she was a junior now. She took high school more seriously.
But Katniss was right, neither of them needed to study English anymore than they already had in these past years. They were both grad-school level, and Mr. Flickerman wouldn't judge them for it.
Plus, Clove thinks it would be nice to have a girl friend – one that wasn't Johanna. Most of her friends were guys, and as of right now, she was considering Johanna one of the guys as well.
"Sure, why not?" She made her decision, adjusting her shoulder bag with a slight smile.
…
Clove drinks her thick strawberry smoothie as she and Katniss walk around in Times Square for the 2 hours they have to kill. People bustle by and they see a big billboard advertising the Naked Cowboy.
"Sometimes I wonder how he even got famous," Katniss wonders aloud, sipping her mango smoothie and looking up at the sign.
"He's practically naked with only a guitar and tiny briefs to cover his junk," Clove says. "It's sort of a novelty for tourists to get a picture with that."
Katniss laughs. "You're probably right."
Clove smiles and looks over at the girl, finding her gazing down at the gum and grime-covered cement. "Is there something you wanted to ask, or did you really want to hang out with me?" She asks seriously, starling Katniss from her stare.
Katniss bites her lip. "Well, I did want to ask you a question.. but, not anymore. It's not important."
Clove stares at the ground feeling someone hit her shoulder and jumping a bit. ".. look, Katniss.. Marvel's a really great guy. Don't be nervous, if that's what's wrong."
Katniss' face lights up. "Thanks, Clove."
Clove let a grin slip. "Any time."
Cato sees a black car pull up in front of him as he sits at the bus stop he was dropped off at. He had only waited 15 minutes, and he was thankful for punctuality.
A man that looks to be in his mid 30's or 40's steps out and offers his hand to the teen, and Cato stares at it in confusion before shaking his hand. "Nazywam się Haymitch." Finally, a Polish speaker. {Translation: My name is Haymitch.}
"Miło mi cię poznać, jestem Cato." Haymitch nods once, shooting him a smile. {Translation: It's nice to meet you, I'm Cato.}
"Jesteś podekscytowany?" Haymitch asks as Cato grabs his suitcase, throwing it into the popped trunk before slamming it shut. {Translation: Are you excited?}
"Przypuszczam.." Cato sighs, slipping into the passenger's seat and shutting the door. He can feel the man's gaze on him. {Translation: I suppose..}
"Cóż, jesteśmy szczęśliwi, że mamy cię!" Haymitch cheers, then putting his keys into the ignition and firmly placing his hands on the wheel, preparing for the traffic ridden ride to the upper east side of the city. {Translation: Well, we're happy to have you!}
Clove arrives home at the exact time she is supposed to, having picked up Jason from ASP after school. He drops his Batman backpack on the floor and asks his sister to help him get off his shoes, to which she rips the velcro and puts them next to his bag by the door.
She hangs her own school bag up properly, allowing herself a break before even touching her homework. She didn't have a lot tonight, it's not like she couldn't do it in 3 hours.
Jason has already sped off, and she follows slowly; making her way to the kitchen to get him his snack.
But she stops once she reaches the place where Jason has paused–at the archway to the living room. "Uncle Haymitch?" Clove says, still staring at the pale blonde boy sitting on the floor. "Who's your friend?" She looks at the boy, seeing his practically white skin, his bright blue eyes, and lightly colored blonde hair. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he was an albino.
Haymitch rises and strolls over to her, clapping a hand onto her shoulder. "This is Cato. He's an exchange student from Poland. He's starting college early, ABA, I think."
That ballet college over by Julliard? This kid must be a prodigy. "Oh. So.. what's he doing here?"
"He's going to live with us," Haymitch grins from ear to ear, and Clove's eyes widen.
"No no no no no. He cannot stay here. Bad things happen when strangers move in, watch your movies." But her uncle just laughs, and turns to find Jason playing with the boy's hair.
"Can I have hair like this?!"
…
The foursome sits at the table, all the kids' eyes on the wooden texture as Clove rolls her waterbottle in her hand, Cato fumbles with his thumbs, and Jason flys an action figure around in front of him whilst making sound effects.
"Well, talk to each other!"
"Uncle Haymitch, he doesn't speak English."
"I'll translate him."
Clove lets out a thick breath, and sits up straight. "What's your favorite color?" "Clove, ask him something interesting, please. We need him to like us."
"Fine," She mumbles. "What was Poland like?"
Haymitch turns to the confused boy, asking the question in his language.
"Zimno." "Cold. He says it was cold."
Clove rolls her eyes. She could've answered that, and she's not even Polish. This kid was about as deep as a kiddie pool, as far as she could tell. "Okay, that's all I wanted to know."
Haymitch scowls.
"Uncle Haymitch?"
"What, Jason?"
Jason shares a weird glance with Cato, who looks flustered and looks back down at his lap. Clove raises an eyebrow, but lowers it quickly.
"Is Cato an alien?"
Haymitch looks up, as if the sky was going to provide an answer. Clove doesn't take her eyes off her new 'roommate', which seemed to make him uncomfortable.
"Technically, yes." The man answers.
Jason's eyes widen and he gasps, nearly knocking back his chair when he runs screaming and sobbing at the same time in a weird cry of fear. "There's an alien in our house!"
"Why would you tell him that?!" The brown eyed teen hisses at her uncle.
"I'm not gonna lie to him! He's foreign, so he's technically an alien."
Clove scowls. But then, it disappears because she got an idea. Probably one of the most brilliant ones she's had in awhile.
This chapter is so horrible, but I'm half awake right now. I'm sorry! I had no idea how to introduce an exchange student :P Review, maybe..?
-Emma
