The next morning, I woke up at first light. I brushed my hair and braided it. I found jeans and a purple blouse to wear before I noticed something had been laid out. I put it on, figuring I was supposed to be wearing it. It was a fitted black shirt and pants; blue and gray stripes ran down the sides and the number 4 was on both my shoulders. Black socks and boots had been left out as well.

Once dressed, I wandered around our floor silently. Food had been laid out for breakfast, and I ate. Then I sat sipping orange juice on the couch, watching reruns of the parade and reapings, listening to what they said about the other tributes. I wasn't really paying attention until they showed close-ups of the tributes' faces. They showed the pairs side by side, starting with One. Orange juice sprayed everywhere. Before I could collect my thoughts, they showed Two. I heard glass shatter. I know them; all four of them. How many others do I know?

I watch, hoping I don't recognize anyone else. I don't. What are the odds that it'd be people I know? I can't kill them.

But will they kill me?

"Good, you're up," said Antony. I jumped. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes. Um, I broke a glass," I told him.

"Don't worry about it. Come on, I need to talk to the both of you." I followed him to the table; Brian was eating when we sat down. "Today at 10 o'clock, you'll be going down to one of the lowest floors: the Training Center. You'll have three days to train before you're evaluated. After that will be interviews, but we'll talk about those later."

I looked at Brian. I could tell he felt the same way. I remember boot camp. It was awful. Someone was always barking at you, pointing out every little mistake, making you run more because you were too slow. I don't want to do that again.

When 10 o'clock rolled around, we were in the Training Center being told the rules. Try to visit as many stations as you can, no fighting, gain or hone your skills, blah, blah, blah. At least it wasn't boot camp. Then we were dismissed to roam about. I saw the kids from 1 and 2 go to the hand-to-hand combat station. I dragged Brian over there with me.

The boy from One was grappling with a trainer. "Put your weight on the balls of your feet," I said. "Otherwise you'll lose your balance." They all turned to face me. The girl from 2 squealed. "Miss me?" I asked. We all hugged.

"It's been so long, Ann," said Tybil.

"It has been. How'd things go over in One after you went back?"

"Oh, you know bombs and skirmishes."

"You know these people?" asked Brian.

"Oh! Yea, sorry. I did a three month tour in 1 before going to 2 for 4 months. They were soldiers, so naturally we talked. This is James and Tybil from 1, and Martha and Cassius from 2. Guys, this is Brian."

We all talked and took turns with the trainer. After hand-to-hand, we practiced with weapons. The targets were human-shaped, which was creepy, but as we had all been soldiers, we'd all been pretty numbed to the idea of killing people.

Weapons wise, Tybil and I preferred long knives, Martha stuck to throwing knives, James and Cassius were good archers, and Brian turned out to be good with most things.

We sat together at lunch. "Do you think they allow alliances? You know, when we're in the arena. We're supposed to kill each other after all," said Martha.

"I don't see why not. It'll probably make a good show," replied James.

"And all they want is a show, I bet," murmured Cassius. We knew he was right. Why else would we have to hunt each other? If they just wanted us dead as an example for the districts, why have us fight? No, it was obvious they wanted a show.

After that, the conversation was lighter. At least, a little bit. We talked about home. And that led to the Reaping. James had volunteered for his younger brother and Martha for her 12-year-old cousin. The rest of us had been reaped. Then the conversation turned.

" Okay, I get how Ann knows you four, but how do you know each other?" asked Brian.

"Well, if memory serves, James and Tybil volunteered to be part of a small team to aid in Two. Ann was also on the team and then Cassius and I were with the rebels in 2," said Martha. "That's the four months Ann mentioned before."

"Yea, it was something like that," I said. "We were all about the same age, so we just hung out in our free time. We didn't really get 'leave' per se."

Soon after, lunch was over and we were sent back out into the Training Center. We stuck together for the most part; going from station to station, learning survival skills. Snares were just complex knots, plants tricky to identify, climbing easy, and the obstacle course was… fun. It was odd, finding something amusing in all this.

When training was over, we shared an elevator. Back at our floor, Antony was waiting for us.

"How'd it go?"

"Ann met some old friends."

"Really?"

"Yea. They're from 1 and 2: all four of them."

"Very well. Come on now, let's eat; tell me about your day." And so we did. Antony was thrilled we'd made an alliance. He said the Games were supposed to be strategic, and that allies were a good thing; that is, until the numbers dwindle.

The next day at the Training Center was interesting. After seeing us bond, the other tributes started grouping together. It turned out that a lot of tributes knew each other from the rebellion. We had all been soldiers, well, it seemed that way. On our third day, everyone started talking and working together. I met a lot of the others and found that all of us were at least fifteen, and that we'd all been through at least boot camp. I felt that, under different circumstances, we all could have been friends. I felt oddly sad about that.

On our fourth- maybe fifth- day in the Capitol, we were once more in the Training Center. Only today, we were waiting to be scored according to our skills. James was first. Then Tybil; Cassius, Martha and then Brian. 15 minutes later, it was my turn.

I strode out into the empty center. The Gamemakers sat on a balcony. I remembered Antony said I was to introduce myself. My voice rang out clear and steady.

"Andromeda Blane, District 4." They motioned for me to proceed. I took a breath. There was a table behind me with knives. I'll get one and do… knife stuff. Whatever. But first impressions speak volumes. I flipped backwards and turned midair to face the table. I chose a knife and a mannequin to attack. I leapt and twirled around for awhile, and then I jammed the blade into the dummy's heart up to the hilt. I proceeded to the hand-to-hand combat station; and easily defeated the trainer, so I took on two at once. It was still easy; they don't really know how to fight. I climbed around and then ran through the obstacle course in a new personal record. After that, they dismissed me.

I went back to our floor, and we waited for the scores to be televised. At 6, they finally were. "From District 1, James Rone, 10. Tybil Marx, 10. From District 2, Cassius Bron, 10. Martha Granite, 9. From District 3, Blake Stevenson, 7. Jamie Lee, 8. From District 4, Brian Wald, 10. Andromeda Blane, 11." We cheered. The scores were out of 12; we both did really well. We watched the rest. "From District 5, Rusty Rowland, 9. Ronnie Malek, 10. From District 6, Taylor Thomson, 8. Jasmine Murrow, 9. From District 7, Donivan Strauss, 11. June Oakland, 10. From District 8, John Mathias, 10. Judy Monroe, 10. From District 9, William King, 8. Bridget White, 7. From District 10, Damon Jones, 10. Skai Bleu, 9. From District 11, Dondre Johnson, 11. Hope Jeanene, 7. From District 12, Jack Dawson, 9. Mayella Gray, 7."

We had all done well, very well. But now they'll expect a power struggle between me, Donivan and Dondre. Dondre is nice, so I don't think we'll have a problem; but Donivan… he scares me.