Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
The next day at training, I pretty much repeat the previous day, except I do different stations. The only difference is that Halimeda and Delaney pull me to the side after training ends as I wait for the elevator.
"Hey, guys," I say, a little nervous. "What's up?"
Halimeda glares at me, her hand still gripped around my arm. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
I yank my arm out of her grip. "What do you mean?"
"You told us not to judge you until we knew you," Delaney says. "It's kind of hard to to do that when you're doing what you're doing."
"You know what make this lovely conversation a lot more enjoyable for me?" I ask politely. "If I knew what I was doing."
"Acting stupid," Hali growls. "Come on, do you really think you can fool us? After what you said to us at the chariot parade, you can't be that dumb."
"What did I say?" I ask innocently.
"You mean you don't even remember?" Delaney exclaims.
I lean in closer to them. "To tell you the truth, I was… I was a little drunk that night. I don't remember much, except for my amazing costume."
They both look shocked.
Halimeda recovers first. She scowls and grabs Delaney's arm. "Let's go," she growls. "Watch your back, you little slut. We've made a deal to stick together, and when the careers split up, we'll be coming for you first."
I yank the knob on the shower handle to the right. Hot water sprays onto me. I bow my head, letting my hair hang down as it quickly gets soaked. I don't even feel like washing it. So I just lean back against the tiles wall and rest my forehead on the cold marble. The water sprays down on me and drips to the ground.
And then the consistency of the water changes. I look down. The water is brown. "What the-" I whisper. I run my fingers through my hair. They come away brown.
I turn to the outside of the shower, towards the mirror. At the ends of my hair, it's still brown. And at the top.. it's blonde.
"Shit!" I wail, turning the water off and stepping out of the shower. I wrap a towel around my head, and another around my body. "Jared!" I scream.
"He's not here," I hear someone say from outside my room.
I growl. "Quinn!" I shout.
"You require my assistance?" she says, peeking her head into my room. "God. Okay. Kal, put some clothes on."
"Look at my hair!" I rip the towel off my head. It's stained with brown splotches.
"Oh my-" he snorts and covers her mouth.
"You think this is funny?" I yell.
"No, no. It.. it just looks really weird. One half of your head is brown with blonde streaks, and the other half is blonde with brown streaks." She clears her throat. "I'll call Tiberius."
After one hour and a pair of scissors later, my hair finally looks normal. But a blond normal, and I hate it.
Plus, you know, the fact that Tiberius cut a foot of my hair off. Now it's only a foot and a half long. I mean, it's more manageable at this length, and I actually like it better than when it was super-long, but I'm still mad that my stupid shower my dye come out. Which then resulted in my losing a foot of my hair.
I sigh and sit down on my bed. Tiberius puts his scissors into his beauty bag, then gives me a wave goodbye. I give him a weak smile and a half-hearted wave in return.
As soon as he shuts the door behind him, I burst into tears. It's not fair. I'm supposed to be having the best week of my life right now. We're about to be thrown into a death match, so the week leading up to it is the week we get pampered and waited on. But this has been one of the worst weeks of my life, and I'm counting the time my own brother broke my nose with a stone while other kids threw rocks at me/
"Kal?" I look up and see Spencer standing in my doorway. "Are you okay?"
I sniff and wipe my nose with my sleeve. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
My lip trembles. "I- no, I'm not. I'm not okay."
"What's wrong?" He walks over to me and sits down next to me on the bed. I'm not like I am with Jared. I don't freak out about him sitting next to me on the bed. Right now, Spencer just seems like a concerned friend.
"I don't- everything," I sob, pulling my knees up to my chest.
He pats my back sympathetically. "It's okay."
"No, it's not!" I shout. He quickly yanks his hand away. "Hali and Delaney are already planning to kill me, my best friend think I'm good as dead, Jared and I haven't even started planning what I'm going to do in the arena, and you're sitting here pretending that you're not wishing for my death so you'll be able to go home!"
"What?" he fires back. "And you aren't hoping for mine?"
"Of course I am!" I shout. "My little sister made me promise to come back!"
"Yeah?" he counters. "So did my brother."
"Well, I-"
"Would you two be quiet?" Quinn asks from the doorway. "I do not want to hear you two fighting again."
"You're not my mentor," I spit. "You can't tell me what to do."
"Young lady, you better shut up right now before I smack you upside the head," she says loudly.
"Oh, yeah?" I taunt. "I dare you to lay a finger on me. See what happens."
So she walks over and slaps me on the cheeks. I stand up and slap her back. Spencer grabs onto me and holds me back as I try to break free and lunge at her.
"That's it!" she screams. "I'm calling Jared right now!" She storms out the room.
Spencer lets go of my arms. I sit back down on the mattress, my head in my hands.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Kal?" he asks, backing away from me.
"I don't know," I say. "I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm so frustrated."
"Okay, well I'm gonna go. I forgive you and all, but I don't want you to get any angrier than you already are." He turns around quickly and shuts the door behind him as he walks out.
"Of course you don't," I mumble.
Two hours later, I decide I'm hungry (after all, I skipped lunch today), so I make my way to the dining room, where there's always food laid out on the table.
I'm serving myself some cold pasta when I hear Quinn's voice in the other room. I can't help but drift to the doorway to listen.
She's on the phone, from what I can see, and she's waiting for the person on the other line to pick up. Apparently she puts it on speakerphone, because she lays her phone on the couch beside her and leans back and closes her eyes.
Finally, the other person picks up. "Hey, Quinn. What's up?"
I freeze. It's Jared.
"Hey, Jared," Quinn says. "I need to talk to you about Kal."
"Sure," he says lightly. "What about Kallie?"
I see her eyes flick open as she registers his nickname for me. She frowns a little, then closes her eyes again. "She's acting crazy."
"So? It's her final days. Let her be a little bitch if she wants to." I barely keep my huff of indignation from escaping my lips.
"Stop it with you female degradation," Quinn says angrily. "She's out of control."
"Once again, it's her final days. Let her be crazy."
"No, I won't. I'm really worried about her."
"Relax. She's just a tribute." My brow furrows. Just a tribute? Wow, I have such a caring mentor.
"No, no, she's more than that," Quinn insists. "She's like my little sister."
"Whatever," Jared says dismissively. "How are you doing?"
"I don't know. How are you doing?"
"Not good. I still have a few more customers."
"Get back here as soon as possible, okay?" she asks him. "I need help. I can't do two tributes at one time."
"Yeah, okay. I'll try." He gives a small, bitter laugh. "I just don't have enough motivation anymore, after the past three days."
"Just hurry," Quinn begs.
"Okay, okay, I will." He sighs, and then I hear the line go dead.
"God," Quinn says with a frustrated sigh, leaning back her head. I can see a tear drip down her face. "What have we gotten ourselves into, Jared? It would have been easier just to die in the arena."
I'm shocked. Quinn never cries. I've known her for almost ten years and I've never seen her shed a single tear, not even at her mother's funeral.
I turn around and quickly make my way back to my room with my bowl clutched in my hand, deeply disturbed by what I've seen.
