Chapter 38
I pace the cold, concrete floor back and forth. Today, we go before the Game makers all alone and present them with what we perceive to be our very best skills. I of course, don't have anything to really show them. Maybe I'll make a fire, climb something. Maybe set a snare or two, even though my snares are very, very elementary. I'm so nervous I feel like I'll puke right in front of them. Tripp is in there now. I hope he's able to wow them with his spear throwing. It'll be his first time to test out throwing a real spear. I'm sure it'll be different than using the heavy fire poker but in theory, the movements will be the same.
The past couple days all we've done in the training center is sit in the corner and watch everyone. Most of the victors stopped coming after the first day. Guess they already know everything they need to know. Technically, I think we're all supposed to be present for training, even if we don't participate, though no one seems to question their absence. The newbies all seem to be trying to learn and soak up as much as possible. Many of them seem overwhelmed and out of their element. Everyone just ignores Tripp and I.
The heavy doors before me open and I hear my name called over the loudspeaker. It's my turn. Time to go in and show them what I've got. I need a good score, well, a decent one at least, if I plan to lure in any sponsors. I walk on wobbly legs into the totally empty room where I see all the game makers on a balcony above me. Illusion Madge. Don't forget your illusion. Win them over with charm if you can. I flash them a smile, swallow and introduce myself. They nod for me to proceed. I head over to the survival station with the fire starting tools. In just minutes I've started a fire in one of the pits with just flint. I step back and look over, expecting to see approval on the faces of the game makers but they seem unimpressed. Or blank. They just seem blank. I announce that I'll show them my climbing skills and head over to one of the cargo nets. I've never, ever climbed a net before but surely it's similar to tree climbing. I grab hold and begin pulling myself up and almost immediately realize that a cargo net is nothing at all like a sturdy tree. The damn net is moving all over the place and it really slows me down. I take entirely too long to get to the top of the net and then once there, getting down is even worse. I decide to jump down to one of the mats when I'm somewhat near the bottom. Another bad decision. The net with all it's movement doesn't allow me to really push off and I end up looking more like I'm falling off the net than jumping off of it. In fact, I'm pretty sure they all think I fell. I even hear a gasp though I don't know from whom. I grab a length of rope and tie a few simple knots, deciding that I shouldn't even attempt doing a snare at the rate I'm going. This is turning into a complete mess. By the time I finish with my knots, I don't know what else I can show them so I tell them I am finished and they dismiss me with a wave and not a single word. Half of them aren't even looking. One of them is yawning. The only one who appears to be looking is the head game maker. I catch his eye and get a creepy feeling. I don't know what it is that causes it but something about him gives me a chill down my spine. Maybe I just feel weird because I know that he's aware I chose to be here rather than marry Snow's advisor. I don't know.
By the time the elevator delivers me back to our floor, the tears are filling in my eyes and I just want to disappear. I'd hoped to escape to the solitude of my room but no such luck. Peeta and Katniss are sitting on the sofa, talking to Tripp about how he did. As soon as they see me, teary eyed with my quivering chin, they stop talking and Tripp stands as if to come to me but Katniss puts her hand on his arm and stops him.
"Hey, come on now. It couldn't have been that bad. Come sit, tell us what happened." Peeta says in his gentle and calming voice. He pats the cushion next to him and smiles. Tripp sits back in his armchair but looks really worried about me. I can't read Katniss's expression. She just seems to be waiting for me to let her know what happened.
"I was awful. I made a total fool of myself. Tried to show off my survival skills and ended up boring them all to death. And I sort of fell when I tried to climb and I was too flustered to show them any snares and they were not impressed that I could start a fire. By the end of it, the only one even watching me was the head game maker and I think that was only because he's met me before, back when President Snow had me summoned." I tell them through my sniffles and tears. An avox girl brings over a box of tissues and a glass of water, placing them on the end table beside me. I take a tissue and wipe my eyes. I'm certain I have made a royal mess of my makeup and look nothing short of ridiculous.
"Don't worry. You haven't even seen your score yet. You probably did a lot better than you think." Peeta tells me, patting my knee and giving me a hopeful smile.
"I'll be lucky to get a 4 or 5. And no sponsor is going to want to take me on with that kind of score." I pout. "I needed to be able to use a weapon. I should've tried to learn one this week. It was stupid of me not too."
"Madge, survival skills may not be exciting to watch in comparison to fighting or weaponry but the game makers do know better than anyone just how important survival skills really are. Don't count yourself out yet." Katniss encourages me.
"Maybe. But It's still blatantly obvious that without being able to use a weapon, I won't have any chance of winning this." I say with a sickly feeling. I feel the puking urge resurfacing in my stomach and mouth. Without another word I stand up and I dart off to my room. I close and lock the door behind me and as soon as I'm in my bathroom, I puke all over the tile floor, not even making it to the toilet. I slump against the wall, resting my head on the side of the toilet. The sour taste lingering in my mouth brings on a second round of puking though I make it into the toilet this time. When I'm finished, I rinse my mouth with a glass of water and wash my red, puffy face with a cool, wet cloth. I don't want the avox girls to have to clean the mess I made on the floor so I use all my towels cleaning it up myself. I take the bag out of my wastebasket and deposit the towels into it. I'll have to ask them for more towels and take these dirty ones out so they don't stink up the room. I sigh, and go over to the keypad on the wall. I push the button signaling I need an attendant to come to my room. In less than a minute I hear a knock on my door. I open it and hand the avox my bag of soiled towels.
"I'm sorry. I got sick and had to use my towels to clean it up. These will need to be laundered right away. And if it isn't too much trouble, may I have some fresh towels so I can shower and make myself presentable before dinner? I'm really sorry for all the trouble."
She takes the bag of towels from me and nods. I close the door knowing she'll be back shortly with fresh towels. I should shower and get cleaned up. There's no way I can go to dinner looking like I do. I feel like crawling under my covers and skipping dinner altogether but the scores will be presented tonight and I need to be there to see my score as well as Tripp's. And I already know that if I try not to be there, a slew of knocks on my door will ensue. My stomach still feels awful and I can't say my confidence is faring any better. It really was proof today that I won't fare well in these games if I can't fight. I need a weapon. Something, anything would better good at this point. I can't believe I wasted this whole week just sitting and watching. I should have been making an effort to learn something. And now, there isn't any time left. I'll have one full day with my mentors and that's it. Perhaps I can insist they spend that day working only on weapons. I just can't go into this without some sort of skill. A soft knock on my door and then an avox enters, carrying a stack of fresh towels as well as a mop. She places the towels on the counter and quickly mops over the floor, then leaves again. I turn on the shower and strip off my training uniform letting it fall to the freshly mopped, still damp floor. In the shower I rest my forehead against the tiles on close my eyes as the steamy water runs over me. If I ever get through this, I mean, when I get through all this, I never want to feel this emotional again. Never want to feel this scared again. Never want to feel any of this again. I wash up with cherry almond scented soap and shampoo. It's the one that I liked when I lived in my father's house. The very same scent that Gale used when he showered at my house the first time. Gale. He'll be watching the revealing of the tribute's scores at the viewing. I hope he isn't disappointed in me when they reveal my training score. I hope he knows I did my very best and that I'll try to recover from a poor score in the interview portion. I hope he knows how much I miss him. How much I love him.
After I'm showered, I dry my hair and let it fall in long, natural waves down my back. I put on makeup though it only somewhat conceals the redness and puffiness that clings to my face from all my crying and heaving. I dress in a silky blouse and wool skirt. A glance in the mirror tells me that I look as presentable as I can considering the day I'm having. I leave the comfortable solitude of my room and head into the dining room and find Effie has just arrived.
"Well don't you look lovely dear. Come, let's all get seated so we'll be finished with dinner before they announce your scores." She chirps as she claps her hands to signal the avox girls to begin dinner service.
We all take our seats and listen as Effie goes on chatting away about how important the scores can be for getting sponsors. I keep my eyes on my hands, which I keep folded in my lap. I try to push her voice out of my head, trying desperately not to hear just how important my score will be. I feel a slight kick from under the table and look up to see Tripp give me a sympathetic smile. I smile back because it's either that or cry. And I just can't handle crying anymore today.
I chew my food, eating everything on my plate, but barely taste it. Peeta does a good job of getting the table conversation going and keeping attention away from me. Effie doesn't even seem to notice that I haven't said a single word. Haymitch is surprisingly sober-ish and even he joins in the conversation some. He and Effie are the ones who will be working to collect money from sponsors. I have no idea how potential sponsors will respond to Haymitch but I know Effie is to the liking of Capitol citizens. She's everything outrageous that is the Capitol with her pink hair and crazy wardrobe. Even her voice screams Capitol. Haymitch on the other hand is gruff, drunk and oily. He's not pleasing to look at or to hear. But he does know the games and he does know how to sell an angle. I mean, look what he was able to do for Katniss and Peeta in the last games. I hope the fact that he is somewhat sober right now means that he's ready to work. Ready to help me get home.
After dinner and dessert, Effie hurries us all into the living room area so that we can watch the revealing of the scores. I feel my stomach start to churn and I swallow hoping my dinner isn't about to resurface. Tripp reaches over and squeezes my forearm, then whispers. "Hang in there. It's just a score."
I nod but don't speak because I'm afraid if I open my mouth I'll puke all over again. I sit, teetering on the edge of the plush, velvet sofa. My eyes are glued to the screen on the wall as scores begin to be announced. They of course do it in order of districts so I have to wait for everyone else's score to post before I can see my own. The scores are average to good. Careers and Victors seem to be scoring the highest. All the victors get 11's. Careers a mix of 10's and 11's. The other newbies range from 6's to 9's. Tripp's score gets announced before mine. He breathes a sigh of relief and his shoulders relax a little when they announce he's received a 7. I close my eyes as they announce the last and final score, my own.
"And finally we have Madge Hawthorne, District 12, with a score of 1. My heavens! That certainly isn't very promising, now is it?" The announcer says, aghast at my pathetic score.
I keep my eyes closed as I hear Effie start to pitch a fit and hear Haymitch telling her to stuff it. When I finally open them, I see Katniss and Peeta whispering to one another and Tripp looking at me, again with sympathy. I smile and stand, excusing myself from the room. I'm halfway to my room when I feel a hand on my shoulder stop me. I turn and see Haymitch.
"Come with me darling."
I follow him, mostly out of shock but a little out of fear. He's kind of the type person you wouldn't want to argue with. I follow him down the hall to a door and then up a flight of narrow stairs to another door. When he opens that one, I find that we're outside, up on the roof of the building. The sky is dark but all the lights from the buildings around us and the streets below us illuminate the rooftop enough for me to see that it's got a garden. Wind chimes ring out through the air softly, pleasantly. I can't figure out why he'd want to bring me up here. I turn and look at him, puzzled expression on my face. I open my mouth as if to ask what's going on and he cuts me off before I can speak.
"Look, I'll make this quick. Your score is for shit. I know it and you know it and the Game makers know it too. It's probably all part of Snow's revenge on you for not marrying his advisor. Don't sweat it. You'll knock them dead in the interview. Don't let it decide the outcome of your situation. You just do what I tell ya to do in that arena and I'll make sure you get outta there in one piece."
I nod rapidly in agreement. "What do you want me to do in the arena?"
"Still working that out. Tell ya tomorrow night. Just give me your word that you'll wow em in the interview. Do that whole pretty girl thing you do so well."
I nod again, curious as to what he means by still working that out. I don't ask though. He turns and stumbles down the stairs again. I walk over to the edge of the roof and look down at the crowds and hubbub below. All these people, all the lights and commotion. All this excitement over the travesty that is the games. Capitol people are so out of touch with what the games are really like. They just don't see that the games consist of real people. Real children who belong to real families all over the country. It's like they don't make the association between real life and the games. They just see it all as entertainment. As amusement. I shake my head in disgust and turn to go back inside. I stop when I see Tripp standing in the doorway of the stairs.
"You doing alright up here?"
I sigh and smile "I reckon so."
"So, how accurate was your score, really? Were you that bad or is this all part of your whole deal with the president?"
"Well, I did do awful, yes. But more like a 4. I'm pretty sure my big fat 1 is all thanks to President Snow."
"Yeah, I figured as much. You really pissed him off good, you know that?"
"Yep, that I did. I swear I wish someone would have been there to stop my mother from signing that marital agreement when I was a baby. If she'd never done that, if she'd never made that mistake everything would be so, so different."
"Maybe. Maybe not. You really never know."
"No, it would. Everything. Had she not signed that deal, that wretched deal, my father would still be mayor, my mother would have her health. Mabel would still have her freedom and her job. And neither one of us would be in the games right now."
"That may all very well be true, but it may mean other things too. You may not have ended up with Gale and I know you'd never want that to change, right?"
"No. Never in a million lifetimes would I want that part to change." I admit. He's probably right too. Had everything been different, I very well would be dating some silly town boy and Gale wouldn't even be on my radar nor I on his.
"Then I guess you'll just have to trust that everything will work out exactly as it should be."
I smile and briefly place my hand over his. "You're a really good friend Tripp. I won't ever be able to tell you how important you've been to me. How important you are to me."
He just shakes his head and smiles as we walk towards the door to the stairs. I see sadness in his eyes but I also see love. I wonder just how many times I looked at him and failed to notice the love hiding in his eyes. I wish it were different. Wish he didn't love me. Not in the way that he does anyway. Wish he didn't have to be here in this mess with me. Wish there was a way out of this for both of us.