Bambi Shoonheid's POV
When I walk up to the stage, it's for Lilly. I walk proudly, like I'm ready for whatever they throw at me—and I am. Whatever I do in these games, whoever I kill, it'll all be for Lilly—Lilly who died last year—Lilly who died from one of those cocky and confident careers, who put on a show for the Capitol and all of Panem to see while he did it.
That guy, Ledger Freitzman, won that year, and will be mentoring the District Ones this year. Hopefully I won't get to see him, at all.
"Looks like we have a volunteer," the escort says. I'm not entirely sure if they're a man or a woman—with short spiked blond hair and green eyes, wearing a slightly baggy T-shirt, so it's not clear whether they have a chest or not.
I wasn't really planning on volunteering this year. Actually, I planned on staying at home with my mom while the Hunger Games were going on. But a twelve year old was chosen. And so I, having training and standing a much better chance than this unfortunate twelve year old, volunteered for her and for her crying family out in the crowd.
As I step up beside this man/woman escort, I look out at the crowd—see my friends—the boys from school, staring up at me.
I know I'm attractive. I just choose not to bask in it—unlike that Nikole girl and that Robert guy I saw on the TV. It doesn't really matter, though, because their overconfidence will kill them before the games begin.
To get sponsors, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, appearing innocent in this way, but keep my expression serious and my eyebrows slightly pointed downwards at nose, appearing grim. The contrast between the two will confuse some of the tributes, with any luck, not knowing what to expect from me.
"Nicholas Parks!" The escort draws the boy's name. A guy from the Seventeens comes out while another girl tries to desperately grab his arm and pull him back, but he shakes her off and comes to the stage. His long orange hair, in a ponytail down his back, and very dark green eyes are a strange mixture, but he's tall and not very muscular, so I take away the fact he could possibly be attractive without the ponytail.
Plus, he looks scared.
Nobody volunteers for him; we shake the escort's hand; et cetera et cetera, and then enter the Justice Building. My only visitor is my mother, and she beams brightly before hugging me. I know she knows I'll do great in these games.
"You can win it, Bambi," she says.
I nod. With all the training I have been getting from a few years ago, since the games Lilly died in, I would be surprised if I didn't.
"Thanks, Mom," I say, and we hug once more before her time runs out and the Peacekeepers tell her she has to leave. She blows me a kiss at the door, and I smile and wave back confidently. One thing I know about the games is that you have to be confident. Just not the confident Robert whatever-his-name-is had. That was one of Lilly's mistakes, and this year those are the mistakes I'll right.
Nicholas Parks, across the room, I find is staring at me. So I smile at him, too, but he blushes and looks away. As much as I had wanted to, it becomes obvious that partnering with my district partner would pretty much be suicide—and so I throw that thought out the window. I may get a chance with the careers. Wiggle my way into their circle, somehow. Or someone who isn't a career, but still capable.
But it really doesn't matter. Either way, I'm going to win this. Win it all, the stakes high, my life on the line. For Lilly.
Nicholas Parks's POV
Bambi volunteers for tribute, and I can't help but smile as she makes her way, graceful as ever, up to the stage. My sister Hanna punches me lightly on the arm because she knows how I feel about Bambi. But I know she'll do well in the games—from the ten years I've known her, I know she's good at throwing knives, climbing, and a bunch of other stuff.
And she looks really pretty today in a short green dress she wore to a dinner we both went to once. If you're up close, you can see a butterfly print on it.
I can't tell what approach Bambi's going for—weak, maybe, or possibly strong and intimidating.
"Nicholas Parks!"
Oh. That's me.
I slowly walk up to the stage, confused. I had no terrasae. My family's well off, for the most part; we've always have had enough to eat, just not enough for all that fancy food some other families have. My name was in there once—my chances were low—the odds were against me—and yet, my name was still pulled out of that bowl.
Hanna tries to hold me back, but I tear my arm from her grip, still in a daze, and continue to the stage—to the escort—to Bambi—to my fate.
The escort smiles at me. I attempt to give her one back. And probably fail. I can't tell. Nothing seems like it's reality—this seems like a dream. One of us—Bambi or I—will have to die. That part is evident to me. There can only be on victor, and either it's neither of us or one of us.
I have a strong feeling that it won't be me.
***
My sister and little baby brother and parents visit me before I head off. Hanna, who is adopted and also seventeen, is crying, and my baby brother who is only two has no idea what's going on. As I hug him, I whisper to my parents to keep it that way. When he grows up, maybe he won't even remember I even existed.
My mother and father hug me as well, and tell me I'm a Parks—a good hunter. This could refer to humans as much as it does to animals.
When they leave I can tell almost everyone is holding back tears—including me—but not including Hanna. She just lets it all out. And then they leave, and there's silence between Bambi and me.
At one point in the silence, she smiles at me, but I don't have the guts to return it so I look away. If I didn't know who she was, I might ask her to be allies right now. But I'm well aware of who she is. And I don't have enough courage to ask her to be my ally. Besides, she would be fine on her own—why would she even need someone to help her out?
Me on the other hand—
Well, I'm going to need a lot of help.
A/N: I found Nicholas's POV hardest to write so far. Anyways, is anyone else as excited for the games as I am? (: Review pleeeeeease?