Seoc = shee - ock
Alcyone Ellison
Once school lets out for the day, I don't linger in the yard and wait for my friends like I sometimes do. I have to stop by at home quickly if I'm going to make it to Electra's in time for mandatory viewing hours. The air is just chilly enough for me to flip up the collar of my jacket against the wind as I walk into my nearby neighborhood, maintaining a pace as brisk as the weather.
The big screen side door doesn't always swing shut when there's wind, so I have to lean into the kitchen and pull it with me. Mom hears it bang closed and pokes her head in from the living room.
"Ally? You're home early," she tells me, "Your father's still at work." Dad works at a little fix-it shop in town. It's actually doing pretty well, considering the amount of useless Capitol-issued projectors in need of repair around this time of year. Our own included. Mom, like all of the workers at the local plant, arrives home early during the Games. On a normal week, I'd be home alone for at least an hour or so before either of them made it back from Rutherford.
"I just came by to ask," I say with a hand on the door handle, "Is it illegal for me to be at Electra's for mandatory viewing hours?" Mom steps fully into the kitchen—still wearing her work clothes.
"As much as I wish I could tell you it is…" she says thoughtfully, "No, it's not. But if you're going over there, you need to do it quickly—"
"Thank you!" I call back to her, already halfway out the door.
"And don't leave until the hours are over!" she calls after me. I turn back and give her a wave to show I've heard, and almost slam right into Seoc Kelvin Malak.
Well, alright, I do slam into him, and we both tumble to the ground, him with a "Huuh!" that's half indignance, half my knocking the wind out of him.
"Sorry!" I grin a little, helping him up. He's near my age, but he's a pretty small guy. He probably could have been knocked over by someone lighter than me.
"Tell that to my lawyer," he wheezes, squinting at me with—if such an expression exists—good-natured chagrin. That's how I would describe it, anyway.
"Yeah, sure." I say, ignoring his empty threat, "Did you get a yes?" He shrugs.
"It's hard to get an anything out of my parents this time of year," he tells me, "But yeah. I got a yes."
"Great," I say, starting to take a few steps in the right direction, "Let's head over together, then." He nods, and we fall into step.
Seoc Kelvin's family is like mine, in that they've also lost a son to the Games. It's a bit of a different story, though. His name was Kelvin Malak, he was reaped into the 61st Games, and he made it to second place. I don't remember him. I was much too young then. And he died before Seoc Kelvin was even born, hence the recycled name. Since he never met Kelvin the First, it's kind of hard to say Seoc Kelvin and I have that in common, but he at least knows the aftermath well. I've never met his parents before, but he claims that, even after thirteen years, they've made little progress in emotional recovery. And this is probably why I've never met them.
"How are they holding up this time around?" I ask him about his family on our way to the Kosslyns' house. "Any better than last year?"
"I don't know about that," he says, shuffling a stray piece of mulch along the walk with the toe of his boot. "Mom's started to call me Kelvin by mistake."
"Not your Dad this year?"
"Dad's not saying much of anything this year." He keeps his brown eyes trained on the ground, where they seem darker than ever. This time of year is tough on all of us, the families of fallen tributes, but Seoc Kelvin might just have it the worst. I mean, my parents weren't doing so well last year, but at least they never called me Cae.
"Ah," I say, and after a while, "Seoc Kelvin, my parents told me to remind you that you're always welcome at our house. If you need to, you know, get away." Seoc Kelvin looks up at me—surprised, maybe. For a second, I think he's going to take me up on that offer.
"Just Seoc works, too," he corrects me instead.
"Seoc Kelvin—"
"I can't, Ally. They'd flip out if I left like that." He shakes his head. "Thanks, though."
"The offer still stands if you need it," I say with a nod.
"Good to know. How's your family been?"
"A little better, I guess." If a little better means pretending that my brother never existed, then yeah, they're doing a little better. I can't help but wonder if my bitterness towards them is a little hypocritical, though. Considering there's a part of me that wants nothing more than to forget Cae altogether.
"What about you?" Seoc Kelvin asks me next.
"Me?" I say back, "I'm doing fine."
"Good." Seoc Kelvin politely ignores my blatant lies as we reach Electra's front door.
Electra Kosslyn lives with her sister over on the other side of our neighborhood, in a house that looks a lot like mine, and nearly identical to Seoc Kelvin's. The only differences lie on the inside (although I've never actually seen the inside of the Malaks' house). The furniture in Irie and Electra's place is sparse and simple, but compared to my house and it's extra bedroom, the spare chair at our dinner table, it seems a lot less empty. Which is part of the reason why I love to spend time there.
The other part is that I've known Electra since the first day of preschool, and we've been practically inseparable ever since.
"Cutting it close, you two." Irie tells us after opening the door on the second knock and all but sweeping us inside. She must have just gotten home from work; she looks older than twenty-two in her grey power-plant jumpsuit.
"Sorry," says Seoc Kelvin, "I was attacked, actually. Struck down in broad daylight."
"Seoc Kelvin!" I give him a light push, not wanting to risk knocking him over a second time. Then, to Irie, "It was an accident." Electra's sister frowns at us.
"In that case, you shouldn't talk like that," Irie chides him, "You know they up security measures this time of year. Something like that could happen."
"Sorry," he says again.
"Ally!" Electra appears in the hallway, her many braids pulled back into a thick ponytail, "Oh, hey, SK. I didn't know you were coming."
"Well, ah, here I am." The corners of his mouth turn up in a little smile. There's something about Electra that really cheers Seoc Kelvin up, I can tell. And seeing that one happy always makes me want to smile along with him.
"Glad you could make it," she says, "It's always easier to watch with a group." I nod and take a breath, remembering what we're here for. Mandatory viewing hours have probably already begun.
"Has it started yet?" I ask her.
"No worries," she tells me, "You're not that late. C'mon."
I sit down on the floor of their living room, Electra crossing her legs beside me and Seoc Kelvin plopping down on her other side. Irie pulls in a chair from the kitchen and a hardcover book, which could potentially get her in trouble if it doesn't look like she's paying attention well enough. Luckily, the shades are drawn (although the dim projector won't make for the greatest reading light).
"Didn't see you after school," says Electra as she flicks on the projector, lighting up the empty wall.
"I had to run this little field trip by my mom," I admit, "You know, to make sure I'm not asking to get myself killed."
"Smart." Electra nods. I tap the side of my head with my index finger.
"Dangerous times," I say, though I've really got nothing to compare them to. It's not like I was around during the rebellion or the Dark Days.
Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, the Capitol's most famous faces this time of year, appear on the wall. Caesar is projected over a big knot in the wood, making it look like he's sprouted a big third eye in the middle of his forehead. I stifle a laugh as the two commentators begin to rehash the day's important events, most of which we already went over in the lunchtime update.
"Was school alright?" asks Irie while Caesar goes on.
"Fine," says Electra, "Why?"
"Trying to be a responsible guardian, that's all." Irie shrugs. "Plus, eighth grade's a tough year."
"You think so?"
"Not now," she admits, "But I used to."
"Well, I don't think it's so bad," says Electra.
"It's definitely worse than seventh," points out Seoc Kelvin, "But there's not as big of a jump as the one from sixth to seventh. So it seems easier."
Easy for Seoc Kelvin to say, with some of the highest grades in our year. As for Electra, what she lacks in ability to take tests without letting her nerves get the best of her, she makes up for with her near-perfect memory. I can't say the same for myself. It's still early in the year, but so far, eighth grade has been a struggle.
Testing doesn't frighten me like it does Electra, mostly because my grades are pretty constant. Constantly poor, my dad would say. Not that I remember the decision, but I was kept back a year in school when I was younger—I must have had difficulty learning to read. Not that moving me back like that has helped me very much. I'm still struggling. Now I'm just old in my class, too. I mean, I guess Electra will turn fourteen in a few months, but Seoc Kelvin is very recently thirteen. I feel a little out of place.
"You've been quiet, Ally." Electra nudges me slightly with her elbow, "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm just thinking." I say. She nods and doesn't ask me to go into detail, likely assuming it's about my brother. She's usually right about that.
"Look who's the star again," remarks Seoc Kelvin, the only one who's been actively watching the wall since the start of mandatory viewing.
"Everdeen?" I ask, grateful for a subject change. I look up at the wall, and sure enough, the Girl on Fire's search for her Lover Boy is all the Capitol wants to see. Everdeen's looking so much more tired these days, but she's still on Mellark's rocky, bloody trail.
"You guessed it," confirms Seoc Kelvin in an uncharacteristically singsong-y voice.
"I don't understand what's so special about her," I mutter. "She's just a girl. Everything about her, the stuff the Capitol takes so much interest in, it's all built around her. Nothing about her seems genuine."
"What about her reaping?" asks Electra, and I think back to the recaps. At the time when I watched them, I was still shaken from watching that other redheaded girl go up. It could have just as easily been me, just as it had been Cae the year before. And watching that lanky seventeen-year-old go up as the male tribute had hit too close to home for me to bear. As a result, few of the other districts' reapings had stood out to me, in all that had happened that day. But, for the most part, Everdeen's had stuck with me.
"It was bizarre," I think out loud, "At first, I thought she was probably just as likely to die as her sister."
"Well, we know that wasn't true," says Seoc Kelvin, still focused on the slight girl projected onto the Kosslyn's wall. There really wasn't anything all that special about her, at first glance. But I guess she has shown Panem what she's made of.
"It was brave, though," I admit. "I don't think that's why people like her, though."
"Why not?"
"Because people are shallow," I say, folding my arms.
"Well, I like her because she saved her sister," pipes up Irie from the back. I didn't know she'd been listening. "I like to think I'd have done the same for you, Electra."
"Oh, that's easy for you to say," replies Electra, "We're so far apart in age, you've never even been put in the position where you'd be able to."
"I know that. But if I had been, you know what I'd have done." There's a pause on Electra's end of the conversation.
"Just be glad you're not like our tribute girl this year," Seoc Kelvin says to her, "She had two eligible older sisters, and neither one of them stepped up to save her." Electra nods, remembering.
"That's why Katniss is so special, Ally," she tells me. "I didn't even realize stuff like that was happening until this year. She makes you think."
"You know what she's making me think about? Why in the world she's trying to find someone who betrayed her."
"And saved her," points out Electra, referencing the aftermath of the tracker jacker attack. Right. There was that.
"Never mind that," I say, "What's happening to the girl from our district?" Electra and Seoc Kelvin grow quiet. It's a lot easier to talk about the tributes from other districts. When it comes to the Five kids, the ones we grew up around without even realizing it, it becomes a challenge to forget they're taking part in a fight to the death. Especially since Cae was in their position last year.
"I don't know," says Electra, "Maybe the Capitol doesn't think she's as interesting."
"Well, maybe she doesn't have a love interest in the arena, but she's important to everyone here."
The more I consider it, the more I realize that the statement I made was slightly empty. As much as I want to think that this girl's survival in these Games is of the greatest importance to me, I can't help but think that, when the she was called up to the stage on Reaping Day, I hadn't so much as recognized her name. I would be lying if I said she had meant anything to me before she was reaped.
I wonder how many people in our district would lie about that if she was killed in the Games. Oh, she was such a nice girl, they'd say, We weren't close, but we spoke every now and then. I so wish I'd gotten to know her better. After Cae died, I must have overheard half a dozen of those conversations every time I left the house. The entire district was talking about him, but no one cared that he was gone. All I saw was relief that it wasn't them, wasn't someone they loved, on their way back home in a wooden box. Instead it was my brother. And they were grateful for it.
I think that's main reason these Games are still going on.
...
"Are you sure you're alright?" Seoc Kelvin asks me on our way back home, "You seemed kind of off back there."
"I'm fine," I tell him again. He knows it's harder for me to watch the Games this year. And although seeing Everdeen reunite with her district partner was a scene the Capitol called heartwarming and unforgettable, all I could think about was how they'd left out the Five girl.
"Alright." Seoc Kelvin's eyes returned to the road in front of us, and I felt badly. He's been trying his best to relate to me since Cae died, to help in some way, but in most cases, our experiences just aren't similar enough.
We walk in silence for a little while, and it's not like us. This time of year makes things tenser than they have to be. I try to break the awkward quiet with something I've been thinking about since our walk began.
"Do you think Kelvin was anything like Cae?"
"Kelvin?" Seoc Kelvin blinks. He's normally the type of person who's always ready with an answer to things like this, but maybe I've caught him off guard with the question about our brothers.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
"It's fine." He shakes his head. "I just didn't know Cae that well. And I never even met Kelvin before he died. So I can't say for certain."
"But…" There's always a but with Seoc Kelvin. The corner of his mouth turns up for a moment.
"But," he confirms, "You told me I remind you a little of your brother, right? You know, when he was closer to my age."
It's true. Seoc Kelvin does remind me of Cae. Appearancewise, they couldn't have been any more different. Cae, with his ungraceful height and reddish hair, pale skin and freckles, looked nothing like Seoc Kelvin, compact, dark-haired and olive-skinned. But I once told Cae that the way he spoke reminded me of my friend from school, and then I couldn't get the idea out of my head. There's also something about Seoc Kelvin's posture, I think, the way he holds himself, that always makes me think of Cae. The way he was before the Games, anyway. Once he hit the arena, my brother didn't seem at all like Seoc Kelvin anymore. He didn't even seem like Cae.
"You both slouch," I say, in a weak attempt to tease him a little. Seoc Kelvin blinks, straightening his back almost instantly. Maybe indignant at my poking fun at him, maybe not wanting to be the reason I'm thinking about my brother. Maybe a bit of both.
"Well, there's that. And other things, too, according to you."
"Sure."
"I've also been told I'm nothing like Kelvin," continues Seoc Kelvin, "I mean, I've seen pictures of him. I'm definitely his brother. But he was this really outgoing, friendly guy. I heard he would have half a million friends trailing after him wherever he went. I've even met a few of them. So since I'm sort of like Cae and nothing like Kelvin, it must mean that Kelvin wasn't much like Cae, either."
From the way Seoc Kelvin describes his brother, I can tell that he's right. Cae was nothing like that. He was probably the most cautious person I knew. And not much of a people person, either. He always became so quiet when we visited town; when we walked to and from school together. He didn't have many friends, or he certainly wouldn't have wanted to be seen walking with his kid sister.
"You're friendly," I tell Seoc Kelvin, which makes him laugh.
"Even if that's true, definitely not to Kelvin the First's extent."
"You know, I'll bet he wasn't all that great," I say.
"Well, don't tell my parents that," says Seoc Kelvin flatly. I shake my head.
"No, no. I think it's horrible what happened to him, but…"
"But what?"
"But sometimes you act as if that somehow makes him better than you." Seoc Kelvin stops short.
"I don't think that."
"Yeah, well, you act like it sometimes. But if he could see you now, you'd probably Seoc Kelvin with how great you are. Don't you think?" I await his reaction to my brilliant pun. He gives me his fleeting smile for that one.
"Maybe. I would have liked to meet him. It's too bad Kelvin's already been Seoc-ed."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You didn't know?" Seoc Kelvin says. "That's how he died. He was killed with electricity."
"Oh." I blink. "No, I didn't know that." After a moment of thought, "What were your parents thinking, giving you that name?" Seoc Kelvin shrugs.
"Definitely not that I'd be an introverted pessimist, that's for sure." He doesn't sound bitter about it; it's been too long for that. And it's been clear to both of us for a while why his parents really recycled Kelvin's name for him.
Not that I've ever dared to bring it up.
Next chapter: Yet another birthday! Having so many in this story was a total accident but I'm going to pretend that it has hidden meaning to it bye B)
