Disclaimer: We do not own the Hunger Games :(
Brooke's POV
In terms of difficulty and intimidation, the second day at the Training Center is
absolutely easier. The first day was awkward because our mentor gave us next to no
advice, and while Reggie's father might drink with mine on occasion, we haven't exactly
hit it off. He's a nice enough guy, I guess, but he's far too much of a flirt, not to mention
that I'm sure he thinks he has a far better chance in the games than I do. While that's
most likely true, that kind of logic doesn't bode very well with me. My entire life depends
on survival, and I like to think I'm pretty good at it.
Now, though, I have two good allies. Tasi and Alyssa. Rather than spending the
day awkwardly hiding at the shelter, knot-tying, and plant stations, I feel like I can come
out and show some skill. But when I reach the table where we were all supposed to meet,
I only see Tasi. It's not like he's exactly hard to miss, especially since he's about 150
pounds heavier than I am.
"Where's Alyssa?" I ask, feeling no need to beat around the bush, craning my
neck to look Tasi in the eye.
"She wanted to do some archery training on her own today," he says in his deep,
rumbling voice. "Is there anything you want to do? Any great skills you'd like to show?"
"Well, I'm pretty good with throwing knives, but I'd like to save that for my
private session," I explain. "I'm a fast runner, though."
"Okay," Tasi says. "Can I watch you run?"
"Sure," I reply, flattered that he'd want to. I squat down, quickly stretch out my
hamstrings, then make my way to a vast expanse of empty space. Immediately, I take
off, feeling my usual adrenaline rush as I sprint. I don't bother to watch the world speed
by, just concentrate on running as fast as I can make my short legs go.
After I reach the end of the empty area, I notice how tired I am, so I stand there
and pant while Tasi comes over to me.
"Wow," he chuckles. "That was impressive. How'd you learn to do that?"
Suddenly, my inner defense mechanism kicks in. Back at home, if I told anyone of
my father's abuse, they would either tell me to suck it up or they would confront him,
and then I'd only get beaten worse. But I think I can trust this boy, so I say,
"Let's just say my father's a pretty angry drunk." I pause to brush up my hair,
exposing my still bandaged-and-disgusting scar on my forehead while Tasi gapes. "One
learns to get out of the way. And fast."