Chapter 13
When we walk out of the remake center, it is already dark. Well, I guess time flies when you are having fun, I say to myself with a chuckle. Cinna takes me to the middle of a big looking stadium. Rows and rows of bleachers are stacked sky high, and there is a big road in the middle for the chariots. We stop in front of Peeta and his stylist, whose name I learned is Portia. Peeta looks great in his skin tight black suit with accents. He also has a cape, but no headpiece. His cape looks exactly like mine, but is already lit.
"Ok, time to show all of Panem that you came to win. These flames will extinguish themselves when you reach the square. Remember, smile and stick together," explains Cinna. He gives me one more hug before he goes to find his seat. Before he does though, he asks for my crutches. I hand them to him, and he takes them with him. I turn back to Peeta to see he is looking at me.
"You look gorgeous," he says. I blush and look down.
"I don't, the dress does," I tell him
"It's not the dress; it's you. You look very beautiful. Don't sell yourself short," he tells me.
"Thanks; you look very handsome as well. What do you think of the fire?" I ask.
"It kind of tickles," he says, with a laugh. "How was your stylist?" he questions. He knows I am not that good with new people because they usually either avoid me or make fun of me.
"Cinna is very nice. He asked me about my disability. He said I was a survivor, not broken," I tell him.
"You are a survivor. You have been through so much, and it has only made you stronger," he says. I hug him, and we get in the chariot. I am not used to walking without my crutches, so I feel really unsteady. I reach out and grip into Peeta's hand. I realize what I am doing and pull away.
"No, hold onto me," he whispers, keeping me in a firm grip. I smile as we enter the chariot. It's pretty high and as I go to step up, I feel myself being lifted by the waist. I look back confused to see Peeta smiling at me. Once I am seated, he gets in.
"Sorry if I was heavy," I lean over and whisper to him.
"You weren't at all. In fact, I could feel your bones, even through the fabric. I just need to make sure you eat," he says. I go to protest, but the chariot starts moving.
The sight was crazy; thousands of screaming fans, all waiting to get a glimpse of the tributes. I felt the adrenaline pump through my veins as our chariot pulled out. The costumes really reflected the districts well. I felt sorry for some because they looked ridiculous. I looked out into the crowd and caught Effie, Haymitch, Portia and Cinna among the very loud chaos. Cinna was trying to tell us something, by frantically clasping his hands together.
"What did he say?" I ask Peeta.
"I think he wants us to hold hands," he clarified. He grabs my hand, which is still shaky from being nervous, and held it in his. I looked over and smiled at him, thanking him for being so brave. He was smiling and waving at the crowd. I watched him and how he had an instant connection with the crowd.
"Smile," he told me. I realized I was just sitting there, watching him. I put on the best smile I could, and started waving as well. We were still far in the back, so no one could see us yet.
Finally, we get to make our grand entrance. The crowd immediately started cheering and screaming when they saw us. It probably was because we looked we were thrown into a fire, and were unburned. They started chanting our names, which they got off the program. Also, they said 'district twelve is on fire!' I giggled knowing they meant literally.
When we made it into the square, the flames went out. In front of us were two huge screens, and a man who was displayed on both of them. He was about eighty; with white hair and a white beard. He had on a blue suit and spoke in a booming voice.
"Welcome, one and all; and happy Hunger Games! For the next few days, you as tributes will be trained to fight to the death. Also, you will meet with the gamemakers at the end of the week to show them your skills. Lastly, you will be interviewed where we will get a feel for you as a person. Fight hard, and win at any costs. See you all later, and good luck," he said and then exited the stage.
When the chariots came to a stop, we climbed out. Peeta helped me again, and I couldn't help but blush. He held my hand all the way to where our mentors and stylists were. Cinna then relinquished my crutches to me.
"What a show! You did splendid," exclaimed Effie.
"Good job for not making a fool of yourselves," said Haymitch. I decided to take it as a compliment, because that is the nicest thing he has ever said to us.
"Great job," said Cinna as he came and hugged me. I hugged him back, and went back over to Peeta.
"Time to show you where you will be staying," says Effie. She led us to a big building, which had to be at least twenty stories high. We walked inside, and went straight to the elevator. I had never been on one, so I jumped a little as it started ascending.
"This is where all the tributes will live from now until the games. Each floor is reserved for a district. Floor one is the training center and two through thirteen are for tributes and their mentors. Since you are district twelve, you get the penthouse," informed Effie
The elevator opened and we stepped out. It was huge; there was a full kitchen stocked with a bunch of food, a huge living area with a flat screen TV and a long, plush couch and two wings, which I guessed contained the bedrooms.
"Nicole, since you and Peeta need to be close to each other, you will take the wing on the left, and Haymitch and I will take the one on the right. Clean up and be ready for dinner in an hour," said Effie, walking away. This just left me and Peeta standing there in the hallway.
"So, what did you think of the parade of tributes?" I ask him to break the silence.
"It was amazing! There was so much adrenaline running through me as they cheered. I doubt they paid attention to anything but you though. The fire looked breathtaking on you," he said. I blushed so much at that comment, I probably looked like a tomato.
"You looked very handsome too though. Flames are a good look for you," I say, turning the conversation back on him. He just smiled modestly and stayed silent. After we stood there for a while, we went to go check out our rooms. It was massive; bigger than two rooms in my district twelve house put together. It was a really pretty light green color that reminds me of soft grass. It had a closet and multiple dressers, like on the train. The only difference between that room and this one is there are more small details throughout the room.
I went to the dresser to pick out an outfit to change into. After hanging my costume in the closet, I went to change. I had selected jeans, a green shirt and knee high socks. I came out of the bathroom, and lied down on the bed. I was so tired because of the lack of sleep I have been getting for a while. The morning before was the best sleep I have gotten in days, or weeks, maybe even months. I am just going to close my eyes for a while, I tell myself. So I lie down on the pillow and drift off.
"Wake up, Nick," I heard through the sleepy haze I was in, as someone shook me gently. I knew it was Peeta because he was the only one who has ever called me Nick. I opened my eyes, trying to shake away the sleep. He was standing there, looking down at me.
"Sorry, I dozed off. What do you need?" I ask him.
"Time for dinner," he says plainly.
"Peeta-," I start to argue.
"Don't Peeta me. You haven't eaten much of anything since you have gotten here, and I know you didn't eat well back in twelve. So, you are eating whether you want to or not," he says, crossing his arms, staring me down.
"Please Peeta, I promise I will eat tomorrow. I just need sleep," I plead with him. He gives me a sympathetic look, knowing how tired I am.
"Ok, but just tonight. Tomorrow I am making sure you eat well, and enough," he tells me. I go to get back in the bed, but he stops me.
"What?" I ask him.
"We have an arrangement. You are staying with me, remember?" he asks.
"I do, but I will be fine," I tell him, trying to get in the bed for the second time. He shakes his head, and easily scoops me up.
"What are you doing?" I ask in alarm.
"I know you are fine now, but I know the nightmares are going to come, especially since you are thinking about the games. If you scream and wake up the whole building, the tributes who are trying to kill us later won't be so forgiving," he says while carrying me. I nod, and don't refuse. He maneuvers me so he is able to open the door. His room is blue, and has a total of two dressers and a closet. He also has an attached bathroom like I do. He lays me down, and tucks the blankets securely around me. Then he sits on the edge of the bed.
"I will bring in your crutches and braces after dinner," he tells me, as he strokes the hair away from my face. "I'll be right in after dinner," he finishes, than plants a soft kiss on my forehead. I smile sleepily at him and doze off again.
A while later, I wake up; am drenched in sweat, and am crying. I try to be quiet so I don't wake Peeta. Even if he is worried about me, he still needs sleep; even if he doesn't want to admit it. I pull my knees up to my chest, and rock back and forth. I put my face in my knees to muffle the noise, and quietly sob. Peeta mush have heard the movement, because he wraps his arms around me to calm me down. I stop crying, and look up at him. He reaches over and turns on the lap.
"The same dream again?" he asks me with worried eyes. I nod, feeling more tears coming. I pull the covers off of me and gather my crutches, prepared to leave. Peeta quickly catches me, by catching my wrist and turning me around.
"Where do you think you are going?" he asks, staring at me with those brilliant blue eyes.
"Back to my room. You obviously won't get any sleep with me sleeping here. I warned you I would go back to my room if I effect you sleeping; so bye" I say while trying to leave. He stops me again, and holds my chin so I am forced to look at him.
"I may need sleep, but you need it way more. The circles under your eyes are getting more pronounced. If you keep this up, you will be sleep deprived and stand no chance in the arena. It doesn't help that you aren't eating at all," I go to argue with the last statement, but he stops me. "A spoonful of eggs for breakfast one morning isn't nearly enough. I am not going to let you waste away to nothing because you don't feel like you deserve to win. I am going to fight for you, even if you don't for yourself. Now, get in the bed before I pin you down to it," he says threateningly, but not being mean. I can tell he is becoming frustrated, and I feel awful I am putting him through this. He just gives me a sad smile as he lies back down. He doesn't turn the light out until he is sure I am in bed. Then he wraps his strong arms around my waist.
"You don't need to do that," I tell him.
"Yes I do; one, to make sure you don't have nightmares again, and that you don't sneak off when I am sleeping," I groan a little, feeling like a small child. He gets more comfortable, and I can feel his even breathing on my neck in minutes. I prop myself on my elbows, looking at his peacefully sleeping face. He looks so vulnerable and content when he is asleep. His features completely smooth out; no worry, fear, nothing.
"I can feel you moving. Go to sleep before I make you," he warns. Busted, I think to myself. I get in a comfortable position as well.
Tomorrow is training. I should prepare to have a target painted on my back that says 'easy kill.'