Chapter Eleven.

Training Day One.

Lauro Calert, 18 years old;
District Nine Male;
Cashmere67.

The Head Trainer blows his whistle.

We all disperse, and I try to find a station that doesn't seem like it will be preoccupied. The Careers gravitate towards the weapons, as well as some tributes from outer-Districts. Others go towards the running courses and the plant identification stations, and then I spot one that no one has gone to.

The knot-tying station.

I make my way towards it, and I scan the table, seeing what materials I'm going to be working with. I pick up a piece of string, feeling the material in between my fingers.

My fingers fumble around the string, and I make a small hole and push my thumb through it, and with my point finger, I lift the string, and once I do that, it comes undone. I tense up, slamming the string down on the table, and I close my eyes, shaking my head. I take a deep breath, and I try again, this time going more slowly.

This time, I slip the string between my pointer and middle finger, and I stretch it out, pulling it tightly. I loop the string around my fingers, and I slip it through the small hole. Just as I think I have it, I pull it vertically, and once again, it comes undone.

I throw the string onto the table, crossing my arms over my chest. I should know how to do that. It's string. It's not a weapon. It's nothing advanced or technical. It's just string.

If I can't even tie a knot, what else can't I do?

"Want some help?" Sadia, my District partner, comes into view, scooping up some string in her hands. She begins to play around with it, rubbing it between her palms and pulling off some of the stray strings. "Back in District Nine…"

"I don't need help," I snap, cutting her off. She looks up, her eyebrows narrowed, a half-smirk on her face. "I appreciate it, Sadia, but I can do it on my own."

"Clearly," she says, rolling her eyes, and she shrugs her shoulders, tying the string into a perfect knot within seconds. "Let's see you do that, then."

"Fine," I say, taking a handful of my own string. I try to make it not too obvious that I'm copying her form, but I slowly loop the string through the hole, and when I pull it, it makes a knot, but it's too loose. I place it down, gesture towards it, and Sadia picks it up in her hand. "There you go."

With one light tug, the string comes untied.

Sadia smirks. She seems so sure of herself.

"At least you tried," she says, making another knot within seconds. She places it down, and she pushes it towards me, and I look away, making her sneer. "I'm just trying to help, Lauro, and obviously, you need it."

"I don't need your help," I say tersely. "I'm capable of doing it myself."

"Doing what yourself?" She says, lowering her head, looking up at me. She still has that smirk on her face, and a strand of hair falls in front of her face, and she shakes her head, moving it to the side. "I suspect we aren't talking about knot-tying anymore."

"I…," I say, gulping, taken back a little. I shrug my shoulders, look down on the floor, and as I look back up at Sadia, I realize that I don't want to argue with her. I don't want to argue with anyone, especially not here. "Whatever."

"Whatever," she repeats, mocking me. "Want to go train now?"

"I have been."

"This isn't training," Sadia scoffs, chuckling as she spins on her heels, looking back at me over her shoulder. "This is child's play, Lauro. Show me what you can do with a sword and maybe I'll forgive you for failing with string."

Without giving it much thought, I follow Sadia, trailing behind her slowly. We pass by a few tributes who look her up and down, completely ignoring me. She walks with a certain confidence, a certain self-assuredness that makes her attract attention. She stares forwards without even flinching or glancing at anyone she walks by.

She's everything I try to be.

Sadia approaches the sword station, and she slides me a machete, picking a sickle for herself. She weighs it in her hand, and she mumbles something to herself, clearly unimpressed by the weapon. She waves her hand, gesturing for me to start with the dummy.

I avoid it, though.

I don't want to go first.

"Ladies first," I say, smirking, the levity in my own voice not convincing.

"Are you scared?" She says, approaching the dummy, and with one swift swing of her arm, decapitates the dummy. She wraps the curved blade around its torso, and with a tug, slices that off altogether. "See? It's not hard."

I walk up to the dummy next to the one she just destroyed, and I look at her, and she nods and smirks. I stab the machete into the dummy's stomach, and I try to pull it out, but it's stuck in there. With one more tug, I get it out, and with another swing, the blade is implanted into the dummy's neck. Sadia claps her hands, bringing down her hand onto my shoulder.

"There you go, Lauro," she says, her face right next to mine. "Now, that's training. That's what I wanted to see."

"Why?"

"I wouldn't want to ally with someone who can't hold their own," she replies, winking. "So, what do you say?"

I stare at her.

She stares back, smirking, tilting her head. She holds her sickle up in the air, and I look past her, seeing the Careers behind her. They're all chatting, and when I look back at Sadia, I nod my head. If I want to do well in the Games, I have to ally with her.

If I want to survive, I have to.

"And just like that," she says, turning back to face the dummies. She hacks at the dummy, not even getting out of breath once. "You already have a better chance of surviving."

I hope so.

All I want is to survive. To not die.

But, I know that, even with this alliance, I'll be the same Lauro I was in District Nine. The one who projected his own confidence, the one who convinced people I was something I wasn't.

Even with Sadia, nothing will change.

I'll always be too scared. I'll always be submissive. I'll always be a people-pleaser.

I'll always be a coward.

That's all I'll ever be.

Calaise Therian, 18 years old;
District One Female;
Cashmere67.

"I, Tiberion Wadell, nominate myself to take full responsibility as leader of the Careers."

"I think that's a good idea," Aliset says, nodding eagerly as she looks at Tiberion. Tiberion grins, and Aliset smiles, looking at the rest of us, awaiting a response. I remain quiet, though. I don't want to say the wrong thing. I don't want someone to dislike me already.

I don't want to mess it up.

Reign doesn't answer, either. He grumbles, nods his head, and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks around the Training Center, and Tiberion glares at him, clearly disrespected by his lack of support. He directs his attention to the two from District Two.

"I think we should give him a chance," Julius replies, and he looks at Sierra who's nodding her head. Julius gives Tiberion a thumbs up, while I watch Sierra stare at the side of Tiberion's face. Her lip twitches, and I quickly look away once she catches me.

"I agree," Sierra says, tilting her head so that she can look at me. "What about you, Calaise?"

All I do is nod.

A nod.

That's a great first impression.

A meek, passive girl. One who can't speak up. One who can't voice her opinions.

"That's settled, then," Sierra says, latching her hand around Julius' shoulder. She tugs him away, and as the two of them turn around, she waves. Tiberion nods his head, giving us a salute before turning around as well, leaving to find a station of his own. Reign does the same, but he doesn't say good-bye or wave.

He just walks away.

Now, it's just Aliset and I.

"You look lost," I say, my lips curling into a grin, but I remain expressionless, staring at the girl from District Four. Aliset stands there, her hand wrapped around her wrist, swaying her body back and forth. Slowly, she raises her hand, running it through her hair. As I look at her, I begin to feel even worse about myself. She's prettier. She has nicer hair than I do.

"Not really. I'm just checking everyone out," Aliset replies sweetly, giggling. I look at her teeth, the cleanliness of them making her smile shine. Making her smile look nicer than mine. "I'm just wondering where I should go."

"What about Tiberion?" I ask, swallowing my worries. My insecurities. Not now, Calaise. Not in front of everyone… "Or, what about Sierra and Julius?"

"Maybe later," she says, shrugging her shoulders, looking so innocent. So attractive. "Why don't you go with them?"

"Maybe later," I repeat, forcing out a laugh. It's fake, though, and Aliset realizes it, but she doesn't acknowledge it. She just smiles, accepting my own artificiality. "I just prefer being alone."

"Oh, sorry," Aliset says, perking her head up, the smile quickly fading. She averts her eyes, and she looks down at the ground, and I tap my foot, catching her attention. She smiles again, and I smile in return. "I can leave you alone…"

"Don't be silly," I say, extending my hand. I look at her hand as she grasps my own, shaking it gently. "Calaise, by the way. We never officially introduced ourselves."

"Aliset."

"If you want to join me, then you're allowed to. I was just headed to the archery station."

Aliset takes the lead, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that I'm still here. I give her a nod, and she turns back around, clasping her hands over one another behind her back. She practically leaps towards the archery station, and when we approach it, she hands me a bow.

"Thanks," I say, reaching for an arrow. She does the same, and although she hesitates to load it on the bow, I nod and let her have the first shot. She shoots it, and it might have missed, but she doesn't seem too affected by it. She just shrugs, smiling and giggling to herself. "Not bad."

"Don't lie to me," she says, and I laugh, but deep down, it puts a pit in my stomach. Lying. That's all my allies will do to me. Lie. Lie to further their own chances of winning. Lie to get the upper-hand. Lie to win.

"It was your first try," I say, shaking my head. I step up to the box on the ground, and I place the arrow on the string, pulling it back. From the corner of my eye, I see Aliset standing there, eagerly awaiting my next move. I release the arrow, and it shoots through the air, landing in the target. It lands right next to the bulls-eye, and Aliset claps. "See? We all have room for improvement."

I know that I do.

I could do better.

Aliset steps up to the box again, drawing another arrow. This time, she takes her time, aiming the arrow before releasing it as quickly as she did before. She must have learned something from watching me, then. When the arrow lands only a few inches away from mine, she nods her head, reaching for another arrow. I watch her shoot another arrow, and then another arrow, and when she goes for another one, I let out a deep breath.

I sigh.

Right now, all of my allies are scattered throughout the Training Center. Tiberion is probably off on his own, and I'm sure Reign is too, while Sierra and Julius are probably together. I'm with Aliset, and right now, I think I prefer it to being on my own. To being alone with my thoughts. To being alone at all.

So far, Aliset is my best bet.

She's the only one here who has approached me like this; in a friendly and congenial manner. In a way that makes me trust her already. From what I can tell, I'll enjoy her company. I'll enjoy and value her as an ally. Reign is withdrawn and closed off. Tiberion is too formal. Julius is affable enough. And Sierra… She's everything I've ever wanted to be.

She's the girl I volunteered to become.

The other tributes, though… I'm not sure. I'm not sure what to think about them – or anyone here, for that matter.

I wonder how they see me, though.

Do they see me in the same way I see myself?

I hope not.

I don't want them to see me as weak and frail. As a pushover and submissive. As useless.

As worthless.

Levi Rinehart, 17 years old;
District Five Male;
jakey121.

We're well into the first day of Training, the first day where we begin to create who we will be in the Games.

I look at the clock on the side wall, ticking down the hours and minutes left until today is over. I try not to focus too much on it. If I let something pressurize me into working faster, then I won't learn what I'm trying to learn. I won't become the very person I need to be.

The Games demand a fighter. I intend to give them one – I intend to give myself a good shot, whether or not realistically, I have it inside of me. The more I try, the easier it gets. I'll stick to that idea for now. It's much easier than letting fear consume me.

Frazier stabs a dummy, his face set in permanent frustration when he's locked in attack mode. I watch him attentively, smiling and nodding when he makes his mark with his knife. When he breaks away from the sack of straw, something changes in his eye and the frown on his face slips up into a grin.

It's funny how much his emotions seem to teeter to and fro. I have to be aware of that. Like I have to be aware of everything going on around me.

"I think we're making progress," I say cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. He responds kindly to that, another thing I've noticed. Better for me to be on his good side, not that I'd ever strive to be on anybody's bad side. I just want the best for them really, like I want the best for myself. When I see potential, I don't let it fade away.

"Knives are pretty easy to handle," he twirls it between his fingers, cutting another slash in the fabric that remains intact. "Maybe tomorrow we can move onto something harder to handle?"

I nod, maybe a little too eagerly. The whole idea of weaponry doesn't excite me, the whole idea of what the Games will require, but that doesn't mean I won't adapt. It doesn't mean I won't take what I know I have inside of me and nurture it into something I really believe will do me, and even Frazier, a world of good when the gong sounds and the Games begin.

We both go back to gripping onto our knives, purposefully taking a step to another intact dummy, and onwards we go. It's not the most impressive feat, slashing apart an inanimate object, but it's progress. We aren't great shooters. We aren't trained warriors with any sort of sword or weapon. We're normal boys plucked from our lives. It's better to take it slow.

It's better to build up what we can do, move on when we know we've trained properly.

"To your left." Frazier's voice immediately lowers in volume. I perk up at his words, let the knife fall to my hip, and turn to face the newcomer.

The boy from Six, smile from left ear to right, extends an eager hand the moment he reaches the pair of us. It's a little too over enthusiastic but it gets straight to the point. I'm more than happy to oblige and indulge someone like him. From a quick glance, he seems friendly.

"Oscar. I saw you training from over there," he waves his hand in a random direction, placid smile still on his face. It's endearing. It's slightly weird, almost, that amongst this weaponry he seems to be focused solely on positivity, but it's nice. We can't all be focused on the finish line, I guess.

"Levi, this is Frazier."

Oscar's eyes hover over my shoulder, land on Frazier, and he nods his head, smile still on his face. I know the boy from Eleven, my ally as we decided, will smile back. He's that sort of guy. Oscar doesn't take too long to get straight to the point, though. I know why he's here almost instantly. It's obvious from the way he looks between the two of us, then the ruined dummies we just destroyed.

"I think- I mean, I know- that maybe we'd be good allies. It's probably really weird me randomly trusting my life in your hands but we've got to start somewhere. You seem like people I could get along with." Oscar's smile shifts into something more awkward, then only brightens again. "I think it could work."

I look over my shoulder at Frazier. There's positives and negatives that always need to be weighed up. Will he help or will he hold us back? Looking at him, assessing what I can see, I don't catch onto anything that might be a burden for where I want to reach in this process.

I nod my head, extend my hand, and smile at his display of gratitude.

Me and Frazier smile all the way, in fact. From our dummies over to where he's training.

Until we see him step forward.

Until Oscar introduces Wyatt Lane.

"Oh, I should probably have mentioned I have another ally." He looks awkward again. For a brief moment, I don't know what to say. I don't usually latch onto ideas without thinking them through first, whether it's a second of thought or a few minutes. Wyatt doesn't look too pleased either, something I pick up on the moment he looks at Oscar, then at the two of us.

This time we're the newcomers. Unlike me and Frazier, I don't think Wyatt takes too kindly to the idea of our presence.

"Oscar," he seems to speak through gritted teeth, like each word is poison in our company, "who are these two?"

"Levi and Frazier. I just thought that maybe it'd work a lot easier with a larger alliance. Teamwork, right?"

He's wrong.

Frazier and me worked. Frazier, Oscar and I could have worked. Wyatt added into the mix does not. Oscar's a nice guy, I can tell that just from a few minutes around him. Frazier himself seems to tense up, not a good sign when a guy has emotions that seem to speak volumes about who he's around.

Wyatt is not the right ally.

Can I back out, now?

I should. I really should.

But I don't.

"Nice to meet you, Frazier." He shakes his hand first, something I notice too easily. "And you, Levi. Hopefully Oscar is right, hopefully we can all get along. Teamwork doesn't seem like such a bad idea."

Maybe Oscar only wants peace. Maybe Oscar only wants to feel like he's made his time before his death worthwhile. If there's one thing that helped me growing up in a place like Five, it was how to tell when there are good people and bad people.

Wyatt is bad.

Frazier and Oscar are distracted by something a few minutes later, training slowly coming to an end. I catch Wyatt looking at me and meet his gaze.

It's this one exchange that tells me Oscar made the wrong move by allying with him. That the future might not be exactly how I want it to be.

"You alright, Levi?"

I swallow a lump in my throat. Confidence is key. Control is everything. "Fine, thanks. You?"

"Great. Why wouldn't I be?"

I can think of a thousand reasons why.

Wyatt doesn't strike me as the kind of person who takes too kindly to not making his own decisions.

Oscar made one for him. I'm the result of that.

Now his eyes are on me and me only.

Something's going to happen soon. With the Games as our future, that something won't be enjoyable. That something could get me killed.

I have to be one step ahead.

I have to be ready for anything.

Wyatt is a problem. I don't do problems.

So, this took a while? Eh, the two of us apologise. We love these tributes, so don't worry this story won't end, just don't expect frequent updates I guess.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this first chapter of training. Alliances are coming together, more will over the next couple of chapters. Let us know what you thought!