It's been over a week since my last Cato sighting, when I was out with Cogan. Speaking of him, we had a very awkward conversation the other day. I said just friends, and I think he's okay with it, but it doesn't really matter because I moved back up to fighting Trigg. I still lose, but I'm getting better.

The countdown to the reaping is getting more intense. "Three days!" Skai squealed to me this morning. These people are crazy. Happy about the Hunger Games. And those who aren't jumping with joy are just casual about it, like they're counting down to the season premiere of Real Housewives. It's freaky.

I moved up to level four yesterday! Skai (and Trigg, unfortunately) moved up with me. Now we're the budding starlets of the Academy. Level five is celebrity, and Cato and Mika are in a class of their own. More like legends than real people (to those who haven't met them, anyway). Training has definitely gotten more intense, but Trigg has kind of taken over as instructor.

Our real instructor is Eris, a totally ditzy blonde. How she got a job here, I don't know, but Trigg will do anything she says, including take over class while she does who-knows-what. This morning, she tossed her hair and put a hand on his shoulder, and he totally melted. I even beat him at hand-to-hand because he was watching her walk away. This brings to mind Flannery's favorite expression, Distraction is the best weapon.

It seems like no one is able to focus today, though, because of the reaping. But there's no way they're going to cut class short today, or tomorrow, or the next day. If anything, they'll make it longer. All the instructors (minus Eris, of course) are hustling around with paperwork in their arms. One man over by the door is handing money to a Peacekeeper. I ask Skai what that was all about.

She laughs. "Well, training for the Hunger Games is technically illegal. That's why it's called Avalon Didden's School of Self-Defense. But if you really look into the whole thing, it's pretty obvious what we're doing, so they pay off the Peacekeepers not to fink on us."

I'm not that surprised. It's definitely not bellow the instructors here, specifically Flannery and Eris, to do something like that.

Skai and Trigg start doing swords, and I decide to go practice more archery. I'd completely forgotten about it as a weapon until Cogan reminded me. I hope he's not out there.

My wish comes true, but I'm not alone. Cato's shooting.

It's pointless to try and go unnoticed, so I come up behind him. "Hi," I whisper.

He spins around and nocks his arrow in one quick movement. I jump back and put my hands in the air. "Whoa, whoa," I say.

He lowers his bow. "Oh. Sorry. But don't you know to never come up to a man when he's shooting?" A hint of a smile is on his face.

I give a hint of a smile back. "I'll be more careful from now on."

We stand there for a moment, neither of us saying anything. I want to tell him something, apologize for what happened at the party, but I can't.

Cato saves me. "So…Clove…about the party thing…"

Okay, maybe he didn't save me.

I shift my feet, refusing to meet his gaze. "Oh…yeah, um…sorry. I don't know what happened there."

Cato clears his throat. "So, we're cool?"

"Yeah, we're cool."

Cato shoulders visibly relax, like an actual weight has been taken off them. Who knows, maybe it has. He smirks at me. "Aren't you going to wish me good luck?"

"It won't help, but if it means that much to you…then good luck."

The smirk drops off his face. "What to you mean, 'it won't help'?"

The light mood of the conversation vanishes in an instant. "I…I just meant…I mean, Cato, luck is dumb. It doesn't exist. It's just a psychological thing. If you win, you win. If you lose, you lose. Luck has nothing to do with it." And with that, I turn on my heel and walk back into the training center, never even having practiced my archery.

I can't sleep tonight. My conversation with Cato keeps playing back in my head. A little voice says, You should have been nicer to him. He has enough pressure already. But that's not me. Perfect Little Clover would have comforted him, but not now. I told him the truth. Luck doesn't exist.

If it did, I wouldn't be living in Panem. I would have a normal life. My parents would be alive.

And I would still be playing Perfect Little Clover.

I guess, if luck doesn't exist, that means that neither good nor bad luck does. Sometimes, that's a little hard to believe.

Sorry for the shortness, but I promise the story will get better from here! Zellie XOXO