The Masonry Academy for Conditioning Intellectuals Guide to Becoming a Tribute

A man always has two reasons for doing anything: a good reason and the real reason.

–J.P. Morgan

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:District 2 of Panem:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

Katniss's POV

I can't hold back a sigh as Prim and I try in vain to pretend that our parents aren't fighting in the next room, clearly yelling and bitter. We're playing cards again in the living room desperately trying to ignore them, but it's getting increasingly more difficult to do. I flip on the television just for something to drown them out, but even the replay of one of the old Hunger Games on, I think it might be one eleven or twelve years ago, isn't enough. Giving up for the moment I throw down my cards and hold onto the table with my hand, my knuckles going white with effort. It's the only thing keeping me from going in there and telling them to just shut up or leave the house all together.

"I wish they wouldn't fight." Prim sighs, gently placing her cards down too and therefore ceasing our pointless distraction, her eyes flickering towards the television and wincing as someone is being killed by the grunts I can hear from behind me.

"Me too." I reply, but I already know this one has to do with me. This fight is my fault and it's been a recurring one for our parents for weeks now. I came home after training the day I found out that I had received the honor of being the volunteer for the Quarter Quell next year and excitedly told my parents. My dad, of course, was over the moon. I don't think I've ever seen him beam that broadly and I know he couldn't be prouder. My mother, however…well, let's just say she doesn't like it. Actually that would be the understatement of the century; she loathes it.

"You know it's because of me." I mutter, feeling a little guilty for that but not as much as I should. After all, I do agree with dad; mom just doesn't understand.

"I don't like that you're going either but I don't fight with you about it." Prim points out with a pout coming over to hug me. In her embrace I can sense all her quiet fear in me being a tribute to be for the Hunger Games next year and I hug her tighter just to comfort her. She's right in that she doesn't fight me on it, but she also realizes that nothing she says will change my mind no matter how much I love her. She realizes that I see it as an honor where mother cannot accept that.

"I know." I tell her, kissing her hair lightly before she lets go.

"Mother also doesn't want to go celebrate tonight, she doesn't think there's anything to celebrate." She tells me, and I know she's right. Though my mother has never said it to me in any case, I already knew from past experiences that she hates anything to do with celebrating the Hunger Games. And our plans in a few hours to have dinner with the Hawthornes as a sort of last dinner celebration before Gale volunteers tomorrow at the Reaping doesn't sit well with her. In fact, I'd guess that's what they're fighting about right now.

"The Hawthornes are like family, she should go no matter what she feels." I comment though Prim frowns, clearly not entirely happy about it either. But she hasn't complained about it because she enjoys hanging out with Rory as she doesn't see him too often anymore between the Hawthornes going to a different school than we do and the fact that he's been in training for almost seven years now, ever since he turned six like all Academy students. I'm sure she's also excited about playing with Posy, the adorable youngest Hawthorne who is like the little sister Prim never had. "Besides, it's Gale's choice. Mother's opinion isn't going to change his mind if she doesn't come anyway."

Prim sighs, but finally nods her head. "I know. Do you really think he can win?"

"Yes." I answer automatically, and it's not just because he's my best friend. "I've known Gale forever, and I already know he has some sort of plan; he's been working on it for a while now. Plus he's not only had twelve years of training but he's been hunting all his life."

"Hunting will help in the arena, right?" she questions me though she already knows the answer; I can tell she's just nervous having someone she actually knows in the Games more than anything, someone like family. Guess it's sort of a precursor to me so maybe this will make her less worried next year, though I doubt it.

"Very much so." I predict, and before she can go asking more questions our mother is at the doorway, looking for all the world drained and stressed. Guess while we were talking their fight stopped, or at least for a while anyway.

"Come on girls, it's time to go." She orders quietly before turning away, her simmering anger clear in her tone. I sigh but get up the same time Prim does, hoping my mother can at least not show how much she detests this when we're there.

"What's wrong Catnip?" Gale questions me as we lean against the railing of the porch after dinner, Gale's last one before the reaping tomorrow when he'll go to the Capitol. I could lie to him that nothing's wrong but I already know he wouldn't believe me; we know each other so well from being hunting partners and best friends for years that he could tell the moment I walked in something was agitating me.

So with a sigh, I reply, "I wish my mother wasn't so…judgemental."

"Still not happy with your tribute-status?" he guesses and I nod, but that's not what's bothering her most at the moment.

"That and yours." I reveal before kicking the railing lightly in frustration as a sort of strange jealously washes over me, probably conditioned from going from my household to Gale's for an entire evening. "I wish my mother was more like Hazelle."

Gale chuckles lightly though he knows I'm not joking. Well, kind of. Don't get me wrong she's still my mother, but I can't imagine how much easier my life could have been had Dad married someone that went to training with him or at least didn't hate the Hunger Games like my mother.

My dad, Marc, and Hazelle had all been trained at the Academy. They knew where we were coming from, how we thought about the Hunger Games and training because they had been there themselves. My dad never thought much of marriage life or anything as he was focused on training though he never got the opportunity to volunteer, and threw himself into it apparently. One day when he was seventeen he foolishly lost track of where his mace was going when he was practice fighting with it and accidently hurt himself. Luckily it wasn't too bad, mostly just a graze, but it required medical attention and he was taken to the nearest hospital to have it cleaned and taken care of.

That's where he met my mother. She was a candy stripper in the hospital like Prim does twice a week, helping the nurses and doctors in the hopes of becoming one usually. It's a good profession I guess if you can handle blood and stuff, but certainly not for me. While I have no trouble with handling weapons or even hurting someone with one because training has desensitized me to that, a hospital is not somewhere I particularly enjoy. It's too…sterile I guess you could say. I had to stay there once overnight when I got really sick when I was seven and I hated it. So did my dad, but he used to tell me with a smile he fell in love with my mother from the moment he saw her.

He tried talking to her, charming her to go on a date with him, but she refused. Since he was in training and they went to different schools there wasn't much opportunity for him to see her again after he left the hospital, but he was determined. So almost ridiculously, he purposefully got hurt again and again until my mother finally agreed, but she was smiling and awed that my father wanted her that badly. They dated for two years before getting married, and while they were very different people it didn't really matter much until I got the invitation to go to the Academy when I was six. That's when most of the fighting and verbal disagreements started, and it really frustrates me to no end but somehow I know I'm partially the cause of it. It's terrible.

Gale smiles softly at that, but shakes his head. "Do you really want to be the person who ruined your mother's dreams of being a tribute?"

"You know that's not what I mean, Gale." I shake my head at him. I can't believe he still feels somehow responsible for that, though I know he always has.

Hazelle had been a really good Academy student, seemingly with the perfect life. She came from a family where they supported her fully in her dreams of being a Victor, and she had even been chosen to be a tribute when she was eighteen when she was sixteen years old. She was dating Marc at the time and everything seemed perfect. That is, until she ended up pregnant the when she was seventeen.

Sure she could have still been a tribute after Gale was born, but Hazelle is not that kind of person. She gave up the Academy when she found out she was pregnant and married Marc, giving up everything to raise Gale and her children to come. Personally I find that it's sad that she lost her dream, but admirable all the same. Hazelle is exactly the kind of person I would want to be; strong, fierce, loves her family more than anything.

Marc, who is a year older than Hazelle, still went to the Academy with my dad of course even after they were married. He obviously wasn't chosen to volunteer but he was still on the list, and honestly I think he had hopes to be chosen just to make it up to Hazelle, to realize her dream for her. He didn't get chosen and started working at SIM to support them, but I think he couldn't swallow it quite as easily as Hazelle did. It's mostly why I think he's so hard on Gale with training, especially after Gale got chosen to volunteer. But unlike Gale who thinks it's because he's the reason Hazelle or Marc didn't get to be, I think it's more because Marc wants any of his kids to accomplish it. Rory goes to the Academy too, though at thirteen he clearly hasn't been chosen for one on one training yet let alone anything else. Vick doesn't train, but he's uncharacteristically quiet for their family and more like Prim in a way. Posy is too young to know yet, though I have a feeling she'll go to the Academy too by the way she already admires her older brothers and tries to do what they do. Gale just happened to be the oldest and therefore Marc is the hardest on him.

He gives me a small smile, but I know his heart's not in it. He's still feeling guilty about it and bitter, wishing more than anything that tomorrow is the beginning of making his family proud. For support I give him a quick side hug which he returns lightly, but doesn't say anything.

"You already make them proud." I remind him quietly, but knowing he needs to hear it.

"I know." He answers after a minute, an odd look to his eyes. It seems to be a combination of guilt and unaccepting, and yet it builds to a confidence he normally has. "But I'm going to make them even more, starting tomorrow."

I smile in agreement and we're quiet for a long while after that, no need for words between us. Our comfortable silence is interrupted a while later by the door opening and my family coming out, a sleepy Prim leaning on my mother. I hadn't realized it was so late.

"We have to go Katniss. It's getting late." Dad tells me and once I nod he turns to Gale. "Good luck, son. Go get em."

Gale gives him his winning smile, all traces of our conversation and his guilt gone. I know it's still there but I'm the only one he would ever show it to so I don't show my surprise at how quickly and easily he can turn the charming confidence persona on when he wants to. "You know it."

With goodbyes that follow I remain behind my family a few steps, leaving after them. But I hear Gale call my name and stop, my family walking still because they hadn't heard it.

"Yeah?" I question him, surprised to find that he's hesitant and unsure of himself. It's one of the first times in quite a while I can't read what he's thinking, and it confuses me more than it probably should.

"You're coming to say goodbye to me tomorrow, right?" he finally asks, and now I'm really confused. What's so difficult about asking that?

"Of course." I reply, my expression clearly telling him that I don't know why he'd even ask. Tributes get an hour for people to say goodbye to them and while there's not really an exact specification on who can, if you aren't family or a girlfriend/boyfriend most people don't go. Everyone from the Academy already knows who the tributes are and therefore have either said their goodbyes already or don't care enough, some angry that they didn't get their chance. But Gale is my best friend and has been practically my entire life; of course I'm going.

"Just checking." He answers my bafflement, and it's the first I've seen of nerves from him. Is he really doubting himself now of all times? He's been all confidence up to this point; it doesn't really make any sense. Oh well, I guess I'll have to give him a quick ego boost before he leaves tomorrow because I'm already way behind my family on getting home and surely they've noticed I'm not with them by now. That kind of thinking he's doing right now doesn't make a Victor, after all.

Gale's POV

Anticipating the reaping to begin is probably one of the few times I've been very impatient in a long time. Everyone is still arriving, those eligible to be reaped still signing in and making their way to their appropriate roped off area, where we are divided by sex and age, boys on the right side of the stage and girls on the left. I was getting antsy to leave and get going with it so we left a little early from our house, being some of the first to arrive.

Dad gave me yet another pep talk, and I can't help thinking of what I was talking to Katniss about just last night. He's so…serious and almost desperate even, I know how much he wanted this for himself or mom. Even though I assured him that everything would go as planned, I know he's still worried about the list. Since I'm eighteen this is my last reaping and he knows as well as I do I'm fucked if the wrong name comes out of that bowl. But he doesn't need to remind me of that. Besides, part of being on the list is that you aren't allowed to sign up for tesserae because that would give you uneven chances of being reaped, since it's based off of how many people you take it for. For instance, if I took it for me and my entire family my name would be in there forty-two times instead of seven. That's not exactly fair to someone who only comes from a family of say them and their parents who is sixteen or something. And this is all aside from the fact that the Academy likes controlling the reaping so to speak, that who they want to be the tributes will be. The list in all reality is to keep people there so they still get their money, not for us.

But I still feel like I need to make my parents proud of me with this Hunger Games. Even though this is my arena and my Games, I almost feel like it's theirs too. No matter what Katniss or my mom says, I still feel responsible for why my mom didn't go into the arena like she should have. I know it's technically my parents' fault but had I been older or didn't exist at all at that point she could have gone and won. I'm doing this as much for her as myself.

Thinking about it (and there's not much else to do aside from idly watching the peacekeepers on the stage doing the final touches of cleaning and rearranging chairs) I find my family in the growing crowd and find them all smiles and I have to smile at it. I know reapings are bad things, something to hate and be nervous about in most districts, but not here. It's better this way anyway. I mean look at Posy, dancing around in her pink dress while she waits, giggling at something Vick says to her. My parents with their arms around each other's waists, still almost embarrassingly in love as they were when they were teenagers talking to Katniss's parents…wait, they're here?

Instantly I turn away from the crowd and look to the sign in tables, but if she's there I don't see her or Prim for that matter. My eyes instantly go towards the twelve year old girls section next, knowing that Katniss would have dropped Prim off there on her way to her own section. I find Prim there in a group of dressed up girls talking quietly but no Katniss. It's almost sad how much I'm wanting to look at her, but eventually I do and my gaze catches hers where I find her warm smile on me. I almost catch my breath when I see it, but then I remember how stupidly chicken I was last night and I refuse to show it, just grinning back lightly to tell her hello and I'm all confidence again.

I was biting my tongue all night last night trying to think of how and when to tell Katniss something about how I feel about her, how she's more than just a best friend to me. Jay may be crazy, but he seemed serious when he told me that I shouldn't leave any regrets behind when I leave today. And he does have a point I guess; even though I'm confident in myself, there will be some things that I already know I can't control in that arena; mutts, gamemaker manipulations, the arena itself. I haven't seen any of the other reapings yet aside from District 6 which was on live before we left but they rarely have any real potential threats, but there always could be. District 1 and 4 also train so they are ones to look out for, but since they will be my alliance I'm not terribly worried about them; I have ample time to assess them and put plans into place, take them out when necessary. And Clove I've worked with for a good six months now; I already know how to beat her. But you just never know sometimes.

So I did have every intention of telling Katniss, but I just couldn't get it out. And then when she started leaving I panicked that I had lost my chance and called to her. But the nerves just took over me and left me tongue tied, and I had to make up some dumb excuse to cover myself. I already know that when she comes to see me in the Justice Building that will be my last chance before I come home from the Capitol, so instead of paying attention like I usually do and should to the speeches I work up my courage instead. My gaze is intently on the mayor speaking but I'm not actually looking, nor am I really listening at all. It isn't until our Capitol escort of the last nine years, Marcellus Livinbary who this year has bright yellow spiked hair and a yellow and purple suit to match with shiny lapels on his jacket nearly blinds my hazy gaze that I blink and actually pay attention.

"Welcome to the day you have all been waiting for! The Reaping of the 74th Hunger Games!" he announces in excitement in his Capitol accent, ever the sunny personality that appears to always match his clothing. And I assume that he has every right to be, considering he's the escort for our district. Certainly with how well we do he's well envied by his friends and certainly most of the other escorts. As shouts and cheers meet his announcement, he basks it in until he allows it to simmer down, announcing like usual boys first.

Walking over to the boys large bowl, he makes a show of picking out a name he already knows won't matter before coming back to the stand, with a flourish opening it. Please not a list kid, please, please, please.

"Owen Dyson."

Yes! The odds are definitely in my favor today, it seems. This kid doesn't even go to the Academy from what I tell as he does his required walk from the fifteen year old section to the stage, a skinny kid by our district's standards. Must be one of the few that actually have to take tesserae, maybe he's even from the Community home. There aren't many there, but occasionally something bad will happen that leaves a kid parentless. Either way, I don't care and neither does this kid. He doesn't even seem too worried to be reaped because he already knows that someone is going to volunteer, he just doesn't know it's me. So I guess it's time to let him know.

No sooner than Marcellus announces the kid's name again once he's onstage and asking for volunteers I find myself raising my hand and announcing loud and clear, proudly even.

"I volunteer!"

Marcellus's face lights up when he hears and his bright head finds me easily in the roped off area closest to the stage with eighteen year old boys as I make my way through the boys and find myself up on stage, the boy whose name I and many other people probably have already forgotten slinking offstage and back to his roped off area I would assume. The stage feels good up here as I look out to the crowd, mostly smiling or approving faces meeting mine. Rory is holding a thumbs up from his place in his thirteen year old pin and I have to smile a little wider at that, but my gaze instinctively goes towards the sixteen year old girl section where I find my Catnip watching me with such…pride. It makes my confidence grow even more and I don't even bother to look away from her when Marcellus asks for my name.

"Gale Hawthorne." I tell him, the crowd, the whole of Panem. They'll remember it, I know they will. I'll make them and come back to my girl who I can't look away from right now.

You know, when I actually get the chance soon to tell her I want that.

My family had already come to see me, mostly hugs and kisses and last minute advice from my parents and even Rory. Posy knows that I'm going to the arena, but even then she's only five and I don't think she quite understands all of it. But that's alright, I'm not planning on giving her anything to worry about, nothing for my parents or anyone else to explain. I'm coming home.

My next and more likely than not visitor has just arrived, and it's automatic that she comes into my arms, giving me a hug. I take this chance to just take her in, enjoying having her lean body against mine and the smell of her shampoo near my nose. I could get used to this. She gives me some silly advice that she knows I already know to do, but really she just doesn't seem to know what to say. But that's alright, I've got plenty to say. Though even I would be lying if I didn't say I was nervous for what could very well happen right now…No, don't chicken out Gale. Just say something.

"Hey Catnip." I begin, not thinking about it.

"Yeah?" she questions me, not seeming to know what to do with my tone.

"You know I might not come back." I exclaim quietly, and to my surprise she hits me on the arm and seems…angry?

"Don't think like that. You can't." she shakes her head at me. "You've got this and you're coming home."

Well glad to know she's got plenty of confidence in me. That's a start. Come on Gale, just say it. Play it off cool so if it goes bad it can be like a joke. "I know, but things can happen in the arena. You know what would give me good luck?"

"What?" she asks, clearly guarded. She doesn't know where I'm going with this.

"A kiss." I blurt out, trying to play it off like I'm kidding but even I can hear the desperation and desire in my voice. She seems utterly shocked and confused, but can't seem to take her eyes off me. It makes me nervous, her investigating my face and posture, trying to figure out if I'm just playing her or if I actually want her to and I find myself unable to breathe as she does so. She can't seem to figure it out and I can tell it frustrates her, but to my utter surprise she doesn't walk right out the door or hit me again.

"Tell you what." she begins, slow and like she's trying to play it cool but I know her well enough to tell that she's completely flustered and baffled still. She doesn't know how to react. The peacekeepers are at the door and she turns to see them before turning back to me quickly before going out the door with them.

"You'll get it when you come back a Victor."