No one is up when I get in, and I feel guilty for leaving Cato. I am too tired to undress, so I fall asleep in my clothes,

The next morning, I wake up to my mom,dad and little sister all sitting ready to eat breakfast.

"WE HAVE BACON!" My sister,Delia, says as soon as I come in. She's only ten, so I don't have to worry about her yet. She looks like my mom. She has dark hair though.

"I'm okay, I'll have toast, I don't like bacon that much." I say. I pop some bread in the toaster.

Because we're off schedule, I get to wear non-training stuff. I'm wearing skinny Black jeans and a blue hoody. As usual, my hair is tied back.

"Not so fast." My dad says. His forehead is creased. This usually means he is giving me a lecture. "Where were you last night? We heard you walk up the stairs at half past one."

I pause, considering to lie. "I was at a friend's house."

My parents exchange a glance. "Which friend?"

"Cato."

My mom stands up to clear the rest of the dishes and then the toaster pops. "Cato, The tall blond one?"

I nod. "Why?"

"You aren't...dating,are you?"

I choke on the air,and my mom swats him with the back if her hand. "That's her business,butt out."

I make a promise to myself that I'll thank my mom later.

"I'm going for a walk." I don't even bother to take my toast with me. Outside it is cool and windy. I know Cato doesn't finish training for an hour, so I go to the park, where I'll meet him. I walk past the Justice Building and the training centre - where I peak through the Windows, seeing Cato hard at work.

There are six days until the reaping,and I still don't know if he'll volunteer.

"There has to be a way." I think to myself. "To convince him to stay..."

The park is full of other people, little children and bored mothers. The swings are full, so I walk over to the climbing structure. There are kids at the top so I just throw my legs over the bars and sit.

It isn't windy anymore. It's just like any other average district, no wind,no rain. Just this one has a lot of stone.

As the hour passes, people file in and out of the park, and I get increasingly nervous about Cato arriving.

Last night we crossed into a place I've never been before. We became friends. I've never had a friend, that's why this worries me so much. He also looked vulnerable, which I've never seen on him.

Cato is tall and broad-shouldered, so looks very muscular. The thought that he isn't always the strong and silent type confuses me. It also intrigues me. I am being more aware that I am becoming fond of him. I don't need anybody,and never have, but his presence is oddly missed when he isn't around.

He's like a blanket I never want to get out of.

Except I do, because being close to someone means weakness, and I can't afford to have weakness in my life.

My scar practically burns as I say it.

"Clove?" Cato says. He's standing at the bottom of the structure,looking up at me.

"Cato. You're early..." I say.

"So are you."

"I had nothing better to do." I point out. "You've left training."

He shrugs. "I got bored."

"Should we go then?"

He nods and we set off.

This time,I'm in one piece by the time I get to his house.

We walk up the stairs to his bedroom. It's exactly as it was when I was here yesterday, as if he's never been in it.

"So..." I say.

"Are you hungry?" He says. I shake my head. I almost never get hungry.

"Did you sleep okay?" I'm really asking if he cried last night,but I won't say that.

"Yeah, I guess. I got bored when you left though. Shall we do something?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, let's go look for something to do."

"Hey! Cato! Wanna get drunk?"

"What?"

"You've got alcohol in this cupboard. We should get drunk. I've never had alcohol before."

"Really?" He says, mouth slightly agape. "Never?"

I shake my head slowly. We are both sitting, ankles touching, bending down to see the cupboard. His breathing is slow, as if he doesn't want me to know I'm there. I'm breathing way too fast. He's too close to me, and it's starting to worry me. Is he staring at me on purpose? Should I stare back?

"Fine then. Let's get drunk."

"Do we just drink it like this? Why is this glass so small?" I say, observing the small glass filled with clear liquid.

"It's called a shot glass. Yes, you just drink it like this, go on, try it." He explains.

He picks it up first, letting me watch, as the substance swims away down his throat."your turn."

I pick up the glass,and press it to my lips. Cato is staring right at me.

I tip the the liquid down my throat and jump up immediately as it burns. It's like nothing I've ever experienced. My throat is on fire,but it doesn't hurt. It's almost a pleasant pain. Almost.

"This is weird." I say,licking my lips. "Why do you have this stuff anyway?"

"I've had it forever. Well, since my dad Died. He drank alot. I could never bear to look at it. I've never - I've haven't -"

"Opened the cupboard?" I finish,hearing the tears in his voice.

He nods. "Are you okay that we opened it now?"

"Yeah, I'm with you. I can do anything." He looks down as soon as he says it. "Want another?"

I nod, trying to process what he just said. I'm with you, I can do anything...

He places the small glass in front of me again. "Same time?" He asks. I nod and lift the glass.

We both drink it at the same time, and my throat burns less this time. "It's only midday and my head already hurts. Can I lie down?" I say.

He nods. "I think I will too, you can have the bed again,if you like?"

"Thanks."

An hour later, I wake up on his bed,screaming.

He's sitting on the chair at the foot of the bed again. I jump up from the bed, and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Clove?" He says, stroking my hair. "What's wrong?"

I try to control my breathing and focus on the fact he is alive. "You're.. alive."

He lets out a nervous laugh. "That's what's wrong?"

"I had a dream." I say. "You went into the Games and you died."

He looks down at me, he's still stroking my hair. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Promise?" I ask.

"Promise."

"With blood?"

"What?"

"Can you promise me with blood, that you won't leave me?" I ask, fully aware of what I'm asking him to do.

"Clove, I'd never leave you. I like spending time with you, you're my friend and I'd never leave you alone. If it takes blood to promise that, fine." His vulnerable look is back, and I can hear that he means every word he's saying.

I lean down, and pull my knife from my boot, and make a very small cut on the right side of my left hand. I pass him the knife, and nod, telling him to do the same. He looks a little nervous, but nevertheless, he makes the incision on the left side of his right hand.

"Now what?"

With the hand I didn't cut myself with, I hold his right one,and press it against my left hand, so that the two cuts meet and we become blood tied.

"Okay. Promise it."

He looks me dead in the eyes as he says : "Clove, I'll never leave you. I'll promise that if you can promise me the same."

This makes me take a sharp intake of breath. Making him promise is one thing. Promising myself is something Totally different.

"I promise, as long as you need me, I'll always be here."

"Clove." He says, without breathing. "I'll always need you."

We both drop our hands simultaneously as we lean in.

I'm a horrible person. I'm leaving it there.

The reaping is next chapter. Three reviews and I'll upload it!

~Mar x