I wake the next morning frighteningly calm. After my epiphany last night, I feel collected. I am going into the Games with a strategy, and when I enter the arena, I will be ready. I sit at breakfast and calmly eat even portions of different foods, slowly hydrating myself. Felix sits beside me, engorging himself on greasy, albeit delicious, foods. He doesn't drink water, and instead opts for orange juice. I finally can't help myself, and I urge him to eat some fruit and drink a glass of water. He eyes me warily, but does so anyway.
Lucas enters the room, dressed in a suit and tie, looking quite sharp. I eye him carefully as I take a drink of water and notice that he again looks haggard, his eyes red-rimmed and sleep deprived. I do my best to hide my concern for him. When he meets my eyes, I give him a little grin and a wink as I pop a strawberry into my mouth, and his eyes brighten just a little bit.
"Don't forget," Lucas reminds us both, "ignore the Cornucopia. Take whatever is in your path, and run to shelter. Try to find a water source immediately."
Felix finally decides he has eaten enough and sits back, stretching lazily and smiling at me. "Well, I guess I'll see ya in there, Brookie."
I roll my eyes at him, but I smile back. Despite our limited interactions, Felix is from home, and that fact alone gives me a certain amount of fondness toward him despite his arrogance. "See ya then, Felix."
He gives me a salute and I laughingly return it, watching him walk back to his room before returning quietly to my balanced breakfast.
I can feel eyes on me and I look up to find Lucas staring intently at me. His brow is furrowed and I can tell that he is in pain. Without thinking about it, I reach across the table and grab his hand in mine, giving him a soft half smile. They can hear us, but they can't see us. He squeezes my hand tightly, so desperately that it almost hurts. I open my mouth to speak but he shakes his head sharply at me and I nod. He must know that I would have said something stupid.
The clock chimes and I look up to find that I have to get going to meet my stylist, who will prepare me for the arena. I finish off one more glass of water and I ignore the lump forming in my throat as I turn to say goodbye to Lucas.
"Luke," I say softly. "I'm going to be okay."
"Stay safe," he says, slowly standing and staring at me from across the table. When I meet his eyes, I can see that there's so much more he wants to say. I'm tempted to drag him to the roof, so I can hear the words, but I know I don't have time.
"I'll do more than that, Broody," I wink, and I skip off to my room. My cheer and my confidence are half an act and half absolutely genuine. I'm going into this with a plan. I'm going into this as myself. It hits me that this may be the last time I ever see Lucas. Part of me is upset that I didn't say more, but I also am satisfied that he will remember me as I want to be remembered; fearless and happy. I remember our goodbye last night, on top of the roof, and decide that this morning doesn't count.
When I get to my room, Alexander is there with my outfit for the arena. I look at it carefully. There is a pair of tight, stretchy black pants, a pair of socks, some comfortable black shoes, and a grey long sleeve v-neck made of some type of material that has a slight shine.
"No jacket?" I ask skeptically as I examine the clothes. Alexander shakes his head.
"I'm pretty sure that shirt is made of insulex. It's an insolated spandex material that uses your body's own heat to warm the material."
I nod and slip into the bathroom to change. I brush my brown hair back and put it in a high ponytail, cursing my hands for shaking. I splash some cool water in my face and pat it try before taking a deep breath and looking myself in the eye.
"I am who I am," I say to myself. "No excuses."
I emerge from the bathroom and follow Alexander. We get into a car with Felix and his stylist. We approach a small building and take an elevator down into what looks like a basement. Felix and I nod our goodbyes to one another and follow our stylists down a long corridor in opposite directions. Alexander opens a large metal door with a numeric code, opening it for me; I step inside and he follows. I stare in awe at a large glass tube, and I know I will step inside of it and it will launch me into the arena.
The nerves have caught up with me and it feels like there are thousands of butterflies threatening to burst out of my stomach all at once. It is nothing like the pleasant butterflies I get when I dash through the forest, finally free, spinning around with my arms outstretched while Nathan laughs behind me. Or the butterflies I get when Lucas looks at me in a certain way, when he holds my hand, when he presses a kiss to my forehead. These are butterflies of unadulterated fear, without a single trace of excitement. While I may be going into this with a surprising amount of positivity, I am certainly not at all excited. I am undeniably still afraid.
Alexander pulls me into a hug and I melt into it, realizing that this is the last time I may feel another person's arms around me in an embrace. He gives me a wide, proud smile as he pulls away from me.
"As a part of your team, I'm not allowed to bet in the Games," he says, "but just know that if I could, I would bet on you."
This makes me beam, and I walk into the tube still staring at his eyes. He nods at me.
"Give them hell, girl on fire."
I open my mouth to say something in return, but then the ten second countdown begins and I roll my neck around, placing my hand on the locket around my neck and preparing myself for what is to come. Just as the cool, robotic voice finishes the countdown, I am launched upward. I blink furiously at the bright sunlight in the arena and quickly scan my surroundings.
Like every year, we are in the center of the arena, set up in a circle around a large metal structure that holds backpacks full of supplies, weapons, food, and many other things. I see Felix not too far from me. Annabel is only two people to my left. She is bouncing anxiously on her toes and I internally pray that she knows that we cannot move for thirty seconds. If any tribute steps off of their pad before the thirty seconds are up, they are blown to smithereens.
I notice a red backpack not too far in front of me, and I know if I can grab it without getting caught in the bloodbath, my next move will be to run into a wooded area to the east of the cornucopia. To the left of it is a jagged mountainous area, and beyond it appears to be a large field with remarkably tall grass. I have no idea what the arena looks like behind me, because I'm afraid that if I turn the wrong way I'll lose my balance and fall off of my platform before time is up.
Just as I think this to myself, the gong sounds. The Careers all sprint forward and immediately overtake the cornucopia, gathering weapons and supplies before ruthlessly going after the other tributes. I am stunned motionless as the boy from 2 slits the throat of a tribute from District 6, but then I am knocked down. Eyes wide, I look up and find the girl from 2 on top of me, grinning wickedly.
"I didn't expect you to be so easy to catch," she laughs, and I make a strangled sound of protest as her hand clenches around my throat. "You know, I find you very annoying. First all that drama about volunteering for your best friend because you just love her so damn much and then your unrequited love for your mentor. Your problem, 12, is that you have too many god damn feelings."
I let my instincts kick in, and I spit in her face. This causes her to loosen her hold on me for just a second, but in that second I am able to grab her wrists and push them away from my neck. I bend one of them at an unnatural angle and I hear it snap. She flinches and uses her other hand to grab at my hair, attempting to pull me back down so that she can get the upper hand. I am half-risen, and I kick her as hard as humanly possible in the gut. This effectively knocks the wind out of her and I revel in it before she has launched herself on me once again. We roll and roll over one another, neither one relenting and allowing the other to get the upper hand.
Somehow, and I have truly no idea how it happens, I land a blow to her face with my knee that leaves her face bloody and her nose most likely broken. The blood all over her pale skin is startling and it makes me nauseous, but I get up and snatch the backpack, running as fast as I possibly can into the woods. I have to leap over a body, and I nearly stop to vomit when I glance down and find the gaping, empty eyes of Felix. I don't stop until the dryness of my throat is so utterly painful that I feel like it's closing. Now I look around and try to gain my bearings. Shelter is my first goal, water is my second.
I hear footsteps approaching from somewhere behind where I've sat down on a large rock to catch my breath. I quickly jump behind it, attempting to quiet the sound of my breathing, which suddenly seems ridiculously loud. The footsteps get louder and louder, but eventually they pass. Before getting up, I realize that I haven't looked through the backpack that I managed to grab. Inside is a sleeping bag, a rope, an empty canteen, a vial of clear liquid that I know purifies water, and a book of matches. Unfortunately, there is no food, but I didn't expect there to be. I can possibly create a snare with the rope.
Suddenly, though, I realize that I am weaponless. I am in the arena with twenty three people who all want me dead, and I don't have a single weapon. Before I can panic about it, the anthem begins to play and I realize I must have been running into the woods for hours. The sky has darkened, and the images of the tributes that have died in the first day of the Games are projected onto the sky. Both tributes from 3, the girl from 4, the boy from 5, the boy from 6, both from 7, and the girl from 10. Felix is the last tribute to be shown, and I raise three fingers to my lips, lifting them up toward the sky. In our district, it's a sign used at funerals. It means goodbye.
I let out a sigh of relief as I realize that tiny little Annabel has made it through the first day. And then I realize that I have, too.
I know I need to find somewhere to rest for the night if I want to stay alive, so I scramble up a nearby tree. I use my best balance to slither into my sleeping bag and then tie myself into the tree so I don't fall out.
"Hey, Peyton," I say quietly. I hope the microphones are picking me up, and that the televisions across Panem are broadcasting me. I know that it's late at night; at least it is in the arena, but they tend to make our days go faster here and our nights last longer, so that viewers can catch the action during their waking hours. "I hope you're doing okay. I hope you're eating enough and keeping Nate in line, and I hope you're still getting tutored by Haley. I miss you a lot. And I just wanted you to know that. And that I'm doing everything I can to come back to you."
Then, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
After Brooke says goodbye, I return briefly to my room. I sit down on my bed and put my head in my hands, breathing slowly and trying to regain my composure before I get into my limo and head to the Mentor Station, where I will immediately begin trying to convince the wealthiest citizens of the Capitol to sponsor Brooke.
I flinch. In all of this, I have almost entirely forgotten my obligation to Felix, and I vow to make it up to him during the Games. I'll do my very best to send him supplies, but I know that if I have to make a choice, my resources will be going to Brooke.
I finally stand and wipe my hands on my slacks, checking my hair in the mirror and cringing when I see the circles below my eyes, and the bloodshot veins that paint pictures on the whites of my eyes. I contemplate using the special eyedrops given to me by my Capitol doctor, used to erase the physical evidence of my insomnia and nightmares, but I decide against it. The Capitol isn't going to have me today.
I go down to my waiting limo and paste my best grin on my face as I wave to the cameras. I'm stopped by a woman with cotton-candy hair and alarming yellow eyes.
"Lucas! What do you think of your tributes' odds this year?"
I give her my attempt at a charming grin. "Let's just say that I really think District 12 is going to have a victor this year."
She giggles excitedly and I say a polite goodbye, getting into the limo as the driver immediately speeds off toward the Mentor Station. I pull up and see more and more paparazzi. This time I ignore all questions and give them smiles and waves as I practically jog into the building.
"Lucas," I hear a voice call. I turn around and see Whitey, an older victor from District 4. I don't recall his exact Games, but I know that he won about twenty years before I did. He's an old hat at the mentor game, and has brought home more tributes than anyone else in history. He showed me the ropes my first couple of years, and I've always been grateful for it. I'm the only mentor without a partner, as my own mentor died shortly after my own victory.
"Good to see you, Whitey," I say genuinely, clapping him on the back. He scowls a little and sizes me up before leaning in close.
"Brooke," he says suddenly and quietly. "Brooke, she's your Camilla."
Camilla is Whitey's wife of almost 50 years. They married a year after he won, and they've been together ever since. Whitey's love for his wife is notorious. Once an attractive young man, his love story with Camilla became the inspiration for a Capitol film.
"I don't know if I would say that," I say honestly, "but I'm hoping to God I have a chance to find out, one way or the other."
Whitey gives me a look. "Son, there is no God in this place. Look around you."
He gives me another clap on the back as I scan the area, looking at all of the pageantry and excess.
"I hope the odds are in her favor, Scott."
He hobbles off back to his own station, and I take a deep breath, turning left and dodging the groups of potential sponsors. I'll start with them after I know that my tributes are safe.
I make my way into my control room and take off my suit jacket, loosening my tie and rolling up my sleeves. I sit in the large, plush arm chair in front of my controls, where there are 9 separate television screens. I can choose what areas of the arena I want to look at on these screens. Above them is one gigantic screen, where I can focus in on one particular area of interest. I have a gut feeling that Brooke will occupy that giant screen from beginning to end.
To my right is a computer that shows me my sponsor account, and allows me to pick what supplies I may want to send in to my tributes. As supplies become more critical to my tributes, whether it is their personal circumstances or a ploy of the Gamemakers, the prices of the supplies rise.
Just as I sit down, my screens flicker to life, the full screen immediately encompassed by the circle of launch pads around the cornucopia. I quickly scan the 9 smaller screens to get a better idea of the terrain of the arena.
"Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, the 74th Annual Hunger Games!" the announcer says, and then the 10 second countdown begins. In 10 seconds, I will see Brooke.
The tributes appear on their launch pads, and I locate Brooke quickly, scanning for Felix as well. I see Brooke glance over at Annabel and pray that she's not going to try to form an alliance. It's only going to hurt her in the end, and the target on Brooke's back as a result of all of her stunts is only going to hurt Annabel as well.
It seems like a lifetime before the gong sounds, and when it does, I hold my breath. Brooke is smart, and avoids the cornucopia just like I told her too. Felix, on the other hand, charges in. I want to watch Brooke, but I just have a feeling that Felix is not going to fair well in this fight, and he deserves for me to pay attention to his final moments. I haven't served him well as a mentor, but I can at least say that I did tell him not to do what he is doing.
I watch him grab a mace, only to be confronted by both male Careers. He takes a swing at them, but the male tribute from 2 simply cuts the chain of his mace with the ax in his hand, leaving Felix fairly defenseless. I want so badly to look away, but I can't. I have to watch.
Luckily, it is fairly merciful. The bloodbath deaths are, at the very least, quick. The Careers try to systematically kill as many other tributes as possible, and so they have to be fast and systematic. I watch the guy from 2 slit Felix's throat and swallow the lump in my throat. In my head, I apologize to Felix, and say goodbye.
I draw my eyes back to Brooke's camera, zooming it in on the larger screen. My hands grip the control station, my knuckles white. The girl from 2 is on top of her.
"Your problem, 12," she says, "is that you have too many goddamn feelings."
My heart feels like it's suddenly stopped, hammering in my chest in sporadic, hard beats. Brooke is pinned underneath the Career, completely trapped. I watch with baited breath and Brooke spits in the other girl's face, and I applaud her for her instincts. District 2's tribute falters just long enough for Brooke to grab at the wrists around her neck and I jump out of my seat and pump the air with my fist when she manages to snap the other girl's wrist. With a steady kick to the gut, Brooke is almost free. However, she takes a minute to compose herself, and that small moment is enough to allow District 2 to regain her position.
They roll around on the ground, grappling with each other. There is hair-pulling and scratching at faces and elbows flying everywhere. I can hardly see who is who, their dark hair seemingly blending into one long mane.
In the chaos of the scuffle, Brooke somehow manages to land a knee right to District 2's face, and there's a loud pop, indicating that she's probably broken her nose. I watch Brooke's hazel eyes momentarily widen at the sight of all of the blood before she realizes that she's about to make the same mistake that almost cost her dearly. She quickly stands, grasping her red backpack and running.
She nearly trips over a body, and bile rises in my throat as I realize that the body is Felix. Her hazel eyes widen and she pauses for a moment once again.
"Brooke," I plead with her, even though I know she can't hear me. "Brooke, keep going, come on."
She shakes her head sadly and continues her sprint, dashing into the wooded area of the arena. I wonder if she chose the forest simply because it's closest, or if she chose it because she's most familiar with that type of terrain. From what I understand, she goes out into the forest with Nathan Lee a lot; I'm not sure how often for sure, though. Half of me hopes that it's every day, and half of me hopes that it's almost never, because the idea of my half-brother spending extended periods of time in isolation with Brooke makes me a little nauseous. I berate myself for the thought, knowing that her survival depends on her ability to make her way through the woods.
She crashes into the woods and continues to run. I can tell that she's paying almost no attention to her surroundings, but it doesn't look like the woods have anything vicious in them yet. That will be saved for after the bloodbath, and as I glance down to my smaller screens, I see that it is far from over.
Brooke finally stops, sinking down onto a huge rock and putting her head between her knees, obviously trying to catch her breath. Suddenly, her head snaps up and I look around my screens. I find the large male tribute from 11, I think his name is Riley, and he's heading right for Brooke.
She doesn't wait to check who it is; she throws herself onto the other side of the rock, sitting on the ground and putting her hand over her mouth to keep her breathing quiet. I'm proud of her instincts, and I watch intently as Riley passes her right on bye. When she's sure that he's gone, she finally unzips her pack and looks inside. I'm glad for her haul, but I know that she's going to need to find some water and food very soon.
The anthem begins to play, and she looks up to watch the faces of the tributes that have died. She places three fingers to her lips and raises them up after Felix appears, and I get a little choked up. She's giving him the gesture of goodbye from our district, and on instinct, I do the same.
Then she starts talking, apparently speaking softly to Peyton. I quickly glance at the screen that shows what is being broadcasted, and I grin as I realize she is.
When her speech finishes, I hear a dinging sound and look at my computer.
$5,000 has been added to her sponsorship fund. I haven't even gone out to speak to the sponsors. Brooke's love for her friend, and her impressive instincts, have earned her that money in her own right. I click on it to see who donated it, and my blood nearly runs cold when I see that it's Nikki Smith, a young Capitol woman a few years older than myself with too much money to burn, most of which she likes to spend on nights with me.
There's a knock on the door, and I loudly tell whoever is on the other side to come in.
"Hey Luke," I hear a familiar voice say behind me.
"Hi Rachel," I say, standing up to embrace her. "How goes it?"
She rolls her eyes. "Both mine died today. So not great."
"I'm sorry, Rach."
"I figured you weren't paying much attention," she says, " seeing as you still have one left in the game."
I can tell that she's alluding to whatever I may or may not actually feel for Brooke. She'd won the Games the year before me, and we'd met on my Victory Tour. Underneath all of her showmanship and glamour is a lonely, sad twenty-one year old woman who had everything taken from her by the Capitol.
"Yeah," I say, equally careful with my words. "I've got a good one this year."
She knows what I mean, and she looks at me seriously. "Be careful with her. Watch her at all times, you don't want anything sudden to happen without being prepared."
She goes to leave after these cryptic words, but she throws some parting news over her shoulder.
'By the way, Nikki Smith is asking for you. So get to it."
Then she leaves, and I'm left with my stomach somewhere near my toes and feeling like lead.
