Augustus Parke comes to wake me before the training session but I'm already awake. I've been looking forward to today, having the chance to show all the other tributes exactly what I can do. Prove that I am not just some fourteen year old they can kick around.
"Your outfit last night was inspired," Augustus tells me.
"You should get one just like it," I tell him.
"You really think I could carry it off?"
"Sure, why not?" You already look like a fish anyway, I add in my head.
"Thanks, kid," he says.
Cautiously I face the showers, pressing a variety of numbers for the cleaning lottery. I end up stinking of sickly vanilla, my skin raw from the boiling water. In my room my training outfit has been laid out for me; a black jumpsuit with District 4 written all over it and some canvas shoes. I'll look like an escaped prisoner.
I reach the breakfast table before Jeannie and pile my plate as high as I can with the rich Capitol food. I'm going to need lots of energy.
Mags smiles at me from the other side of the table. "We had lots of questions about you. Seems you made quite the impression last night. Took Augustus, Hollis and I a long time to satisfy them all. "
"What kind of things were they asking?" I imagined heated debates about just how lethal I was, questions about the weapons I used, how much training I had done. What I had done to become the most deadly tribute any of them had ever seen in the opening ceremonies.
"Well one guy asked about your hair. It's naturally that colour isn't it?" Hollis replied flatly, clearly bored by the whole thing.
My heart sinks, "Is that all?"
"Not just your hair- your makeup, how you got such a 'hot bod', your favourite colour, your star sign, your age..."
"But I thought it would be less..."
"Shallow? That's the Capitol for you."
"The good news is we should have no trouble finding you sponsors," Mags says gently.
"But I don't want sponsors- not like that. I want it to be based on things I've done, not what I look like."
"Then you've got the next few days to prove yourself."
Jeannie walks over to us; a smear of silver paint from last night still sits just above her eye. She is red faced and has clearly been crying. As soon as she approaches the table Hollis mutters something about needing to shave and shuffles away.
"What would you like for breakfast, dear?" Mags asks, handing Jeannie a plate.
Jeannie shakes her head. She doesn't even sit down, just stays standing by the table. "I'm sorry- about last night," she whispers. "Do you think I've ruined my chances completely?"
"Of course not. There's still plenty of time left to dazzle them. Now we need to sort of your training strategies."
"Shouldn't we wait until Hollis is back?" Jeannie asks, wiping her eyes on a napkin.
"Hollis and I have already discussed it. You've both got to make sure you team up with Districts 1 and 2; this is your best chance of surviving the first days of the games. You'll be expected to join, of course, but you still have to show them you're worth their time. Don't hold back in training- give it all you've got- Intimidate them. Don't waste your time on the survival stations you are familiar with already. Now is a good time to talk to the other tributes, find out how they tick."
We nod.
"I know you're good with a trident, Finnick- what about you Jeannie?"
"Mostly blades."
Mags nods approvingly. "Good- you show them what you've got"
Augustus returns and leads us down to the training rooms where we join the circle of tributes. We all stand and wait for the final pairs to arrive and I take the time to look around the gymnasium, trying to locate the station where I can best show off my skills. There are so many , though, that it is hard to take it all in. So many ways to kill a person, it seems: Knives, bows, spears, poisons, traps, bludgeons, weights, knots...
As the head trainer gives her speech I turn to the other tributes. Out of the costumes of last night they are no longer hidden. I see hollow cheeks and protruding bones, see the circles under their eyes and puffy cheeks. I am thankful for my steady diet of fresh fish which has kept me in good shape. So few of the tributes look half as impressive as they did before. Only Nova and the boy from District 7 with their gigantic stature and build look in any way intimidating. I'm surprised to note that I am taller than many of the others.
When the trainer finishes explaining the different stations everyone disperses.
"I'll see you later," I tell Jeannie. She nods and heads over to the station where I see row upon row of knives gleaming in front of some training dummies.
I still can't see the tridents so I walk in the direction of the weapons training. I see a station for spears and I had expected a trident to be included there but looking through the racks there isn't one so I move on to the station with swords- nothing. There's nothing with the maces and clubs, clearly nothing with the long distance weapons like bows and arrows. Nothing. With all the weapons in the armoury there is not a single trident. Bother.
Just how am I meant to prove myself now? How am I meant to impress the gamemakers, get a high score and show the capitol I am more than just hair and makeup and clothes? More than just some attractive clothes horse. I look around frantically, certain I must have missed the tridents somehow. I cross from one station to another, peer hopelessly across the survival stations. Nothing. All those years of training, all that work my father put in and it will all come to nothing. I feel sick to my stomach, regretting my extra-large helping at breakfast. I want to run from the gymnasium and hide back in my room.
I must have been looking lost because the head trainer approaches me. "Looking for something?"
I notice that some of the other tributes have turned to listen to my conversation. It's enough for me to pull myself together again. I don't want them to see that I'm fazed so I turn my chin upwards. "Just looking around."
Part of me yearns to go to the knot tying station, to have something familiar in my hands but I know this won't help. Remembering what Mags said I go over to the spear station and begin practicing. As it turns out I'm not bad with spear. My frustration gives fuel to my training and I furiously drive the spearhead into the training dummy with a menacing battle-cry.
"Nice spearing, District 4."
"The name's Finnick," I say, turning.
It's the boy from District 2. He's shorter than me, dark- haired with a sharp pointed face. I can see him sizing me up with his shrewd eyes. "I'm Agrippa," he says, offering me his hand. I take it and as we shake, his fingers crush my hand with a vice-like grip. "I take it you'll be joining the pack?" he asks as he takes one of the spears.
"Nah, not me," I say, "I'm forming my own group. I already have me and Jeannie; you want to be part of the winning team?"
"Sure, Fin-nick," he spits, "Who else is joining your little group?"
"Don't know, I'm waiting for someone to impress me." I turn back towards the dummies and throw the spear like a javelin straight into the bull's-eye of a far off dummy. Perfect. I think. Agrippa's eyes widen just for a moment but he soon recovers his bored expression.
As I walk away I notice Agrippa replaces the spear he had been holding and hurriedly moves on to the next station. Scanning the rest of the gymnasium I notice Rook, Agrippa's district partner lifting weights. I remember how on the day of the reaping I had seen her mouth that she was going to beat Agrippa and I get an idea.
As she moves on to the next weight I stand over her, just within her sight-line. There is a look of concentration on her face as she struggles with the weight. Cheerily I smile down at her. I notice her eyes flicker across to me. She gasps and puffs as she heaves the heavy boulder upwards but she only manages to lift it a few inches off the ground- he eyes widening with the effort- then drops it, only just missing her food.
"Aw, too bad," I say.
"What do you want?" She growls.
"Nothing." I turn my back on her, "Guess what Agrippa said about you was right."
"What did he say?"
"It doesn't matter." I keep walking. She grabs hold of my arm, several assistants rush forward to pull her off me. "Don't worry," I say, brushing them all off. "It's fine."
"What did he say?" Rook says again.
"Just that there was no point in asking you to be in my pack as you're near to useless anyway. Dead weight."
"I'm not dead weight!" she insists. She bends down and lifts the same weight that she just dropped, this time she raises it to her knees. "I'm strong and I know how to fight."
I shrug. "Maybe next time."
She puts down the weight and steps towards me again but the assistants are on guard and step between us. "Please," she says, "Let me be in the group." There is a look of panic in her eyes and I realise just how dependant she is on being part of the career pack. How dependent we all are really. To turn away from the pack would make anyone who has an ounce of skill a target.
"I guess you can tag- along," I say, "Just, you know, try to be useful."
For the rest of the morning I alternate between a few of the stations. I catch up with Jeannie and tell her about our new allies. She watches Agrippa and Rook for a moment and nods mutely. At lunch time we sit with Rook, Agrippa and Nova and the girl from District 1, who is apparently called Velvet, join us. It is unspoken but I know they are part of the group. As soon as I got Agrippa and Rook on my side they had no choice but to follow. Of course the six of us were always going to end up together but at least this way I am not just some fourteen year old boy they have to abide, I am the one who formed the group.
Velvet sits next to me as we eat, leaning her body towards me, making me feel claustrophobic. She holds her hands out under my nose, "Training is so tough on my hands," she says with a sigh. "They're as rough as bark." She rubs her hand across the back of mine. "Feel it Agrippa." She does the same to him, fluttering her eyelashes in what she clearly thinks is a seductive manner.
Rook grumpily folds her arms across her chest and Jeannie rolls her eyes at me but I try to ignore them. Let Velvet do her show if it makes her feel better.
Nova is holding a bread roll in his hands and is turning it over quizzically. "Why's it green?" he asks.
"It's the seaweed," Jeannie explains. "All the bread is like that in District 4"
"Oh." He quickly replaces the bread in the basket as though it is contaminated.
It's hard to find things to talk about at lunch. Now and then someone asks a searching question to the group, not even trying to hide that they are looking for tactics. I answer as evasively as I can. I don't mention the trident but only that I have been training for years. Nova proudly tells us that his grandfather won the games some fifty years ago and that he had taught him all he knows. The conversation slowly becomes more and more violent as they all try to outdo each other in tales of their amazing feats. Implausible stories made up by scared children. I even throw in one of my own where I defeat a giant squid.
When lunch is over the group eagerly return to the gymnasium but Jeannie holds back.
"So what do you think of our new allies?" I ask.
"They're hideous," she says, "I hate them all."
"You heard what Mags said, though."
"I'll never be able to trust them."
"You don't have to. This is only temporary."
She pauses a moment, searches my face, "I hate who you are when you're with them too. You change into a jerk."
I shrug, "They wouldn't like Finnick Odair."
I remember my father's words before I left District 4. Could it be that I am already changing? I think back about who I have been over the last couple of days, the waves, the cocky remarks, the outfits...the only trouble it feels like I have no choice except to change.
Together we step back into the gymnasium and go our separate ways for the rest of the training session.
