Fun Fact of the Chapter: Carreen's creator did not realize the similarities between her character's name and the word "Career" until after she was submitted. The name was first used in Gone With the Wind as the name of Scarlett's sister.
…..
Che Botill, District Seven
When I wake up, I almost manage to forget that training starts today. Almost. The sun is shining through the window, the bed is nice and soft, and I can actually hear birds chirping outside, glad to be in the morning air.
And then I see the pink and green striped buildings out the window, and remember where I am. The rest of it follows. I'm going to the Games in a week.
I'm going to the Games in a week!
We eat breakfast in silence, much to my discomfort. No one wants to start up a conversation. Bri's looking at her food with an almost scary focus, stabbing it with such ferocity that I don't want to get anywhere near her, even if she's half my size. Aliena keeps giggling, but I think it's a compulsive thing because her facial expression sure doesn't look giggly. Our mentors are nowhere to be seen—one is having a migraine and the other is probably drunk.
Aliena escorts us to the training room where most of the other tributes have already gathered. I swallow nervously. The Careers, while not that big, look... intense. The murderous type. I turn away, barely glancing over the other tributes.
When the training master's lecture ends, I head straight for the projectile station, hoping to get there before the Careers take over. Boomerangs, discuses, throwing spears and knives. Unfortunately, the Careers have other ideas and I end up making a beeline for the knot-tying station. There is one other tribute there—the girl from Eight, I think.
I give her a smile—hopefully not too wide, I don't want to look vicious—and say, "Hey. My name is Che." I pick up a piece of rope and try to copy the instructor's fingers.
"Parker," she replies, and I can almost see her lips curling up shyly.
"You're from Eight, right?"
Yeah. And you're from..." She wrinkles her brow apologetically.
"Seven." There is silence for a few minutes. "Hey, you're really good at that."
She shakes her head. "Not great."
"Well, better than me, at least," I mutter, holding up my frayed mess of a rope, which is hopelessly tangled. She giggles. Hers is much prettier than Aliena's. "Um..."
"Wanna be allies?"
We end up saying it at the same time. Ironic, no?
…..
Gabriel Maddox, District Four
Carreen seems to be taking charge of the Career pack. I'd never pegged her a a leader, but I guess it's better than following Luka. That sociopath is currently taking every opportunity to disagree with her. She wants to go look at the tridents first, he wants to work with edible plants. Of course he doesn't really want to—what Career of his caliber wants to stop by the edible plants station first? He just wants to annoy her, and it's almost working when Emily cuts in.
"Well, why don't we split up?" she says, running her fingers through her ponytail. She's being rather naive—not bonding during training means trouble in the arena—but I'm not about to but in. This isn't my fight, it's Carreen's. I'm just the tagalong.
Emerald eyes the other girl curiously, and I almost think that she's about to object when her face brightens up and she says, "Sure." Something's not quite right about her...
Marius, as usual, glares. "Groups of two, then?"
"And not with our district partners," I put in. "No offense, Carreen." I just want the chance of observe the others—Emerald and Marius in particular—up close.
"None taken." She almost smiles, but then she turns to Luka and her mouth tightens. "Emily goes with Gabriel, Luka with Emerald, and Ill go with Marius." Darn. Well, she's not a mind reader.
We split off. Emily bites her lip. "Where do you want to go?"
I glance around. "Knives, I guess?" Her face falls. "Don't worry, I'm a beginner, too," I whisper, even though you couldn't exactly call either of us that. Even if we're pseudo-Careers.
We spend maybe ten minutes with knives (which I'm not bad at), and then some with swords (pretty good, actually), although anyone could tell that my attention was elsewhere. Carreen and Marius seemed to be getting along fine in silence, throwing pole-arms at targets. Luka and Emerald are having a low discussion over by the edible plants and bugs, and when he's not intimidating other tributes, I swear that Luka looks genuinely intrigued. Emerald is smirking slyly, and it's not until she notices I am looking that she returns to her usual eager face.
He says something and she laughs, putting in a comment of her own as she pulls him over to the bows-and-arrows station.
"Gabriel? Where to next?"
"Say we go for some edible plants," I mutter, and I hear her sigh with relief. I follow her across the gym, hoping to catch of fragment of the very out-of-character Emerald's conversation. No such luck.
Definitely two tributes to look out for. I put them at the top of my mental list.
…..
Jacy "Jace" Faith Latone, District Nine
Once the Careers are cleared out, I discreetly walk over to the fighting-knives station. I'm not going to delude myself—if I want to win the Games, I'm going to have to learn how to kill.
A couple of the other tributes seem to have the same idea, and I'm soon joined by the girl from Seven and the girl from Eleven. During the Reapings, I remember that they both struck me as smart ones, ones to look out for.
The instructor starts talking and the girl from Seven shifts her eyes towards me, looking me over. I nod at her, trying very hard not to get annoyed. In the Games, anything you do could be used against you. I've grown up with practice, but this is a life or death thing now.
After a short explanation, she hands out daggers and adjusts our grips on them. I cut through the air with the blade, getting a feel. I notice the girl from Eleven flinch, but it seems to be directed at the blade in her own hands rather than mine. She didn't strike me as the squeamish type, but...
The instructor shows us a few strokes, and then leaves us to practice. It's strange, how almost natural this weapon is in my hands. I almost forget that it's deadly.
I'm so focused on my own thoughts that I startle a bit when the girl from Seven speaks. She's young, but her voice resounds with maturity and wisdom. "My name's Bri. Do you two want to ally with me?" Well, at least she's direct.
The girl from Eleven squints and tilts her head, weighing her options. "Why do you day 'you two'?"
Bri shrugs. "Three is a nice number, don't you think?" She bites her lip and glances across the room to one of the Career groups. "And honestly, I feel like you two would be the best out of the bunch."
"What, because we all headed for knives?" I snort, trying to sound formidable yet not hostile. This girl has offered a challenge, if an indirect one, and I'm genuinely intrigued.
"We're all intelligent, and we don't delude ourselves about the nature of the Games," replies Bri. "Together, we can stand a chance against the Careers."
Well... if strength comes in numbers...
"Who says I'm not deluding?" the girl from Eleven—Caprice?-bursts out. "I, for one, have already pledged not to kill." She closes her mouth quickly, knowing that it was a grave mistake to say something like that to your competitors. Prime example of why silence is golden.
There is a slight pause, and then Caprice adds, "Well, I guess I'm in." She smiles slightly, and then turns back to her knife with a serious face.
"Jace?" Bri turns to me. Wait—she bothered to remember my name?
"Sure," I mutter. Maybe this'll work out in my favor.
…..
Anderson Birk, District Ten
"Anderson, this is ridiculous," Chantelle hisses. She's obviously not happy about Gavin's rather pretentious order to ally, and I'm not going to lie—I sort of wished I had the freedom to go about and choose my allies. Preferably ones more open to my ideas.
"I just want to try something out, okay?" I mutter. "You'll get a chance to practice—don't lie, I know you want to."
She stands up and takes my arm with a sigh, and together we walk out of the lunch room and into the training room.
Specifically, the fighting knives.
There is an audible gasp as I reach the station, and I can even hear some snickers from across the room. Good. The Careers are nowhere near.
"Um..." the instructor says. "Maybe you should try this some other time..."
"If not now, when?" I challenge. I grip Chantelle's arm tighter, and then quickly release it. I have to look independent.
The instructor mutters something under her breath and hands out the knives. She adjusts my grip; I get a feel for the grooves in the handle. She dictates what to do for a few strokes, and I try them to the best of my ability. Chantelle is holding her breath, standing perfectly still beside me.
"How was that?" I ask.
"Too wide," she murmurs. I adjust my fingers and slice smaller this time. "Better," says the instructor, voice noticeably shaking.
I can see I'm not wanted here, so I nod politely. "Thank you." Chantelle grabs my arm and I walk away, heading towards camouflage, a safer activity that we all know I will fail at.
But I've heard the sounds of battle every year since I was six, in the Hunger Games. All I needed to know was how to hold it and where the station was. Because guess what? People inhale right before they're about to attack.
It's not much, but it makes me feel a little stronger.
