Chapter 10: Certain Closeness

In the morning, Chase is nowhere to be found.

And I like it.

Everything is how it should be for the Hunger Games, but the scene in the dining room says otherwise. All my muscles stiffen as I walk into the elegantly designed room; for it feels like there was a noticeable temperature difference in here from the living room. The dining room is uncomfortably silent as I pass through, even though everyone is sitting at the table enjoying breakfast.

Or I should say eating—no one was really enjoying much of anything after last night.

And it's all because of me…again.

Skipping the buffet of food, I grab an apple and rush out the door; aware that four sets of eyes are watching me cautiously.

You did this to yourself, Avery. Now they're never going to ignore you.

For the record, I blame Cato for messing with my head. I would be perfectly focused and ready for the Games if it weren't for him. Maybe I would even be able to deal with Chase…who knows?

The elevator ride seemed longer than usual. When it comes to a halt, I'm hoping it's not stopped to pick up a certain someone from District 2.

Instead, the boy from Three steps on, nodding in my direction.

I exhale the huge breath I was holding in and respond with a slight smile before the silence begins dripping with awkwardness.

The boy from Three's voice pierces the air, causing me to flinch, "So what are you going to do about your boyfriend?"

If I had had a drink in my hand, I know I would have won a Grammy for 'Best Spit Take'.

"I'm sorry. What?" I ask after I'm sure I didn't choke on my tongue.

"You and that Chase kid," he says, as if it's something simple. "On the show with Caesar Flickerman they were talking about what they think you two will do in the arena."

Ha! Me? Help Chase?

Like that'll ever happen.

I sigh, stepping off the elevator without saying another word, preferring to stay silent and save him from hearing one of the many versions of the story I've come up with in my head.

Awesome. So not only are Cato and Glimmer a topic of discussion, but Chase and I seem to be pretty popular too.

Exactly what I was hoping for.

I roll my eyes dramatically, knowing that I probably should have kept my mouth shut; since this is just the beginning of the comments I'll be hearing.

Seeing that mostly everyone is already down in the Training Center, I try to test my luck and hope that Chase is here somewhere. But as soon as I walk through the giant stone archway, a sense of unease forms knots in my stomach.

I glance around, taking in my surroundings, and I notice that the training floors the Careers tend to occupy are empty. Clove isn't by the throwing knives. Marvel isn't by the spears. And Cato isn't by the swords.

Though today, my eyes aren't interested in any of those people.

Though no one is where they usually are, I spot Chase standing near the spears. He's leaning against a large stone pillar, his back facing me. No one seems to be with him, so I cross the barren, echoing floors to where he stands.

I'm a couple feet behind him when I hear laughter. And not Chase's idiotic laugh, but a high-pitched laugh that sounds like a bell. A girl's laugh. I freeze in place and dash behind a nearby column, peering around the corner. The sound of laughter is coming from Glimmer, and Clove and Marvel's faces come into view next to her.

I blink quizzically, trying to think about all the things he could possibly be saying. It's not like they're actually friends. Sure, they talked on the train on the way to the Capitol, but I got the feeling something else was going on. Something fishy. And I had a feeling it had to do with last night. But thinking about it, he was the Dumpee, and so shouldn't he be cooped up in a corner crying or something?

Maybe he just forgot, I try to convince myself, but it doesn't work in the slightest.

I mean, no one knows about the "break-up" yet, so maybe he's pretending it didn't happen—

"So how'd she react when you broke up with her?"

So much for that.

I stopped in my tracks and jerked my head around the corner to see Clove's eyes bright with anxiety—mixed with something that looked a little devilish—as the question came out of her. My mouth fell to the core of the Earth.

What the hell is this?

Chase's voice emerges through all the confusion in my head, "Well, I looked her in the eyes and just said 'Avery. I'm done, I can't do this anymore.'"

I storm off, refusing to listen to any more and probably giving away my presence in the process, but I'm shaking with rage. We talked about this last night! And here he just decides that he's going to make me look weak?

Then again, these are the Hunger Games.

He had an opportunity…and he took it. Damn him.

I decide to release my anger out in the only way I know how. Sword fighting. I slowly stride over to the empty station; trying to act like I don't know what Chase is saying over in his stupid little corner. The one and only time I look back at the corner, I notice that it's just Chase, Marvel, and Clove. No Glimmer.

Good. Maybe Glimmer stabbed herself with a spear.

Cato POV

By the time I woke up, the sun was shining right in my face. Annoyed, I saunter over to the curtains and hastily close them.

Must be noon, I think to myself. No way the sun is always this damn bright. I flop back down on my bed, the sheets rumpled and tangled beneath me.

I'm almost back to sleep when someone's hand raps on the door.

"Hmm?" I grumble, which is muted by the pillow my face is hidden in.

Glimmer's high pitched voice tears through the door as if she was already standing in my room, "Cato? Can I come in?"

"I guess."

The door opens and Glimmer prances in, closing the door noisily behind her. She plops down on the bed next to me, and I turn my head towards her. She's in her training suit, a large 1 on her sleeve; and her hair is in a side braid, not a hair out of place. Which means she probably wasn't training…typical Glimmer.

She smiles, "How come you're still in bed?" She puts her cool hands on my bare back.

I shrug, "Tired."

Suddenly her mouth is right next to my ear, "Want me to climb in with you?" she says seductively.

Normally, any other guy would have loved this opportunity. But it's not like I don't get this a lot in District 2. I mean, not all the girls look like Glimmer, since she's so stunning. But I figure I'll let her enjoy her last few days before I kill her.

Just like I've been training my whole life how to do.

No matter where I am, I have to remember why I'm here in the first place. And so far, nothing's distracted me, I've been able to keep everything under control. Clove, Glimmer, Avery…

Avery may be a bit hard at times, but I'm doing the best I can.

But the question is: how long can I keep it up?

After all, it's all a television show, right?

I realize Glimmer looking at me with her big green eyes and remember I never gave her an answer.

"Nah," I say sitting up, "Did you leave training?"

A look of disappointment washes over her, "Um, yeah. I was talking to Chase. Apparently he broke up with Avery!" she looks past me towards the window. "I saw it coming, they weren't that into it, you know?"

My eyebrows rise in astonishment. I stay silent, not knowing what to say.

Trust me, I know.

She turns back to me, "Cato?"

I shake out of my thoughts. "Sorry. So uh—how's Avery taking it? Is she alright?"

It was as if that was the question she least expected, and frankly, one I least expected as well. I shouldn't care how Avery feels, she's my enemy. A competitor. Just as good as Clove and Marvel. I need to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't get past me when I'm not looking.

"…was doing was angrily chopping apart dummies with her sword," Glimmer finishes.

"So she's down in the training center?" I ask quickly.

An annoyed look occupies her features. "Cato, were you not listening? I just said that."

Without another word, I hop out of bed, grab a shirt off the chair and head towards the elevator; a shocked Glimmer still lingering in the bedroom.

Avery POV

In a strange way, I feel better. Just like the way I always do after I take my anger out in sword fighting. I take a look around and see the pieces of every single dummy strewn across the floor.

My bad.

Part of me wants to go talk to Chase, but the other part just wants to punch him in the face. Although, I've already done that and he's still managed to ruin my life. Plus, I don't think that giving him a black eye will keep him from running his mouth off.

I place the sword back on the rack and carelessly wander around the training center, looking for something else to do.

"Can I help you?" a shrill voice asks me.

I rub my eyes and realize that I've been standing by the throwing knives rack, and that Clove was in action; she had just come to get more knives.

"No. Not at all," I respond; what else was I supposed to say?

She hesitates with the knife she's holding and gives me a twisted grin. "I get that you're heartbroken, Hun, but really, it's not like you have that many days left before we're in the Games," she runs her finger along the blade of the knife, "and you'll be all alone. And then we'll kill you."

I give her a hard glare, "Now listen to me, you sick, little sadistic bitch," I spat. "First off, I couldn't possibly be heartbroken because I never—" I stop myself, knowing that if I keep talking, the truth will come out.

Clove raises her eyebrows, "Aw, maybe you need to go back up to your floor and cry your eyes out. But try not to, I want to see your tears when you die," she says before walking swiftly back to the targets.

Giving me one last look and smiling the grin of the devil, Clove resorts all her attention back to her throwing knives.

She may be powerful, but if I'm all up in her face with my sword, she won't be able to do anything.

But how do you get yourself that close to Clove?

That part may need some thinking, but now is the time to focus on ridding my competition…and nothing else.

Especially not Cato.

Determined, I hurried towards the stairwell, seeing that there was backup at the elevator.

And if I can't handle four flights of stairs, then the arena might be a problem.

I start slowly, but then get faster about halfway up the first flight. That is, until I run solidly into a person.

I look up and see Cato's face, the light in the stairwell reflecting off of his hair, making it look an even lighter blonde than usual.

Instead of being in his training suit, he's in casual gray sweats and a tight white shirt in which defines all of his muscle.

Oh. My. God. That shirt should be illegal for him to wear.

His arms slide around me to keep me from falling backwards. His strong steady arms.

You should leave. Like now.

Don't do anything stupid…

But who am I kidding, whenever I'm this close to Cato—a closeness that should not be allowed—bad things always seem to happen. I always seem to lose myself and act stupid when I'm with him.

He grins down at me, "You are always running into me, aren't you?"

His fingers play with the thin material of my training suit at my waist. "Um, why are you using the stairs?"

Welcome to the Museum of Stupidity, here is our first exhibit.

"Am I not allowed to?" he says, moving his face closer to mine. "So I hear you and Lover Boy are no more?

"And I hear you and Glimmer are just beginning," I say, using every ounce of control to push him away.

I continue up the stairs, but Cato's wrist wraps solidly around my upper arm; restraining me from moving any further. He moves himself to my level.

"So?"

"So," I put a hand up to his chest, meaning to move him away from me, but I can't bring myself to. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Define what we shouldn't be doing." He smiles and reaches towards me; gathering me in his arms, causing me to become unbalanced.

One of his hands reach up to my face and brushes along my cheekbone while the other steadily holds my lower back. My heart pace picks up and my breath catches as Cato leans in closer.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I say softly, part of me hoping that he didn't hear it.

"No? Then what about…this?" he says, planting kisses on my jaw, and then on the side of my lip.

I finally give up trying to find a way out and pull his lips to mine, and they connect at once. Cato's hand cups my face before he smiles into the kiss.

"So this is okay?" he says, his breath on my lip.

Yes. Completely.

I'm hesitant to answer. Because I know it's not okay, being this close to the Games. But another part of me wants him to hold me like this.

I look up into his eyes, which look for once: soft in the light. Looking into them makes my heart race faster than an Olympic Sprinter.

I could stare into them until I die.

And thinking like that, it might not be that long if you don't focus!

"Avery?" Cato says softly.

No, don't do it. Don't say the word.

Don't say the three letter word…

"Yes. It is perfectly fine."

And who knew what damage a one syllable, three letter word would do? With my luck, I'll probably find that out a lot sooner than I want.

I should really tell Cato to stop. Because if it's like this in the arena; with the possible chance of it coming down to just me and Cato, I'm not so sure I'll be able to stay strong if he keeps doing these things to me.

Maybe—just maybe, you don't want him to stop.