Sexual themes in Clair's POV

FLINT KENYTE- Oaken Mushroom

Last bro standing. I wasn't about that "girls against boys" stuff but it still crossed my mind just out of idle noticing. Made sense it would be Flint. He was a super cool Mafia hit man or whatever. Funny he didn't have an Italian name. I guess the Mafia diversified. Gotta change with the times.

LACEY WEAVER- Alysanne Audren

I didn't think it would hit me so hard. It was stupid of me to become Lacey's friend instead of just her ally. But I didn't regret it.

Caio Sagres- District Two mentor

That one hurt. Not like metaphorically. I winced just watching it. Some things are sacred...

Medusa Gorgona- District Two mentor

Charybdis wasn't a failure. It was District Two that carried shame. We had enough wealth for a sumptuously furnished Academy and a standard of living higher than almost any other District and we needlessly refused to address our children's mental health. Charybdis was failed by her District a hundred times before she ever volunteered.

District Two

It was a confusing year. On the one had, Two made it farther than the rest of the Careers. On the other hand, it wasn't a Career who made it that far. Then there was Charybdis, who died early but also died due to underhanded tactics she couldn't possibly escape. All in all it was just a really weird Games and we were looking forward to next year.

Tillo Peters- District Eight mentor

I didn't think either Lacey or Jacquard would make it as long as they did. Anyway I'd known neither of them would make it out. Being cynical ahead of time didn't really make me any less sad, but it did spread it thinner if I started being sad earlier.

District Eight

The state always preferred to place bereaved children with relatives before foster care. Though none of Lacey's relatives had seen fit to assist the struggling pair, a distant relation was located who agreed to do a trial run caring for Via. A trial run turned into an indefinite run and while Via would never be the same without Lacey, she was cared for and loved while awaiting her mother's release. Chester Crock grew up a more compassionate and understanding boy than he would otherwise have been. He remembered his brother both in his strengths and in his struggles and loved him no less for all of them.

Oaken Mushroom- District Seven male (17)

Clair and I ran down the hall. As soon as we got into the stairwell Clair leaned against the door to keep it shut so we could pause. Pain radiated up and down my arm with every movement and even when I was standing still and holding it steady.

"Is it bad?" Clair asked, blood dripping down her own face.

"It's popped out," I squeaked.

"Oh, no," Clair said. Dislocations were common in Seven. People fell out of trees all the time. Most kids had seen it happen plenty of times. We'd even seen impromptu resettings plenty of times. But that didn't mean we knew how to do it.

"Pop it back," I pleaded. I didn't care if it went back wrong. I would have lost the arm entirely to get rid of the pain. I almost threw up just trying to talk.

Panic and fear flitted across Clair's face. She wanted to freeze but she knew she didn't have time. The whole reason we'd seen so many amateur relocations was that after a dislocation the joint swelled or something really quickly. For a few minutes they were kind of easy to pop back and then it was impossible without a doctor.

"Lie down," she said. I eased myself to the floor while Clair helped steady me. I lay on my back with my arm by my side. Clair knelt by me and slowly slid her fingers and then hands under my arm. I scrunched my eyes shut and clenched my side with my free hand to hide the pain so she wouldn't get even more nervous.

"I'm gonna start raising it," she said. I let out one tiny whimper at the first wave of pain as she started to slowly bring my arm out to my side, gently moving it in tiny circles as she did. When it was straight out to my side she rotated it. I tensed my legs and clenched my side even harder, holding my breath. If I didn't breathe I couldn't scream. It felt like my arm was broken and Clair was grinding the splintered bone into my flesh.

Clair raised my arm further toward my head. Go somewhere else, I told myself through the agonizing pain. I tried to imagine I had no body and was just floating free. I wished I could just faint and get it over with. I heard a tiny pop like someone cracking their bubble gum. I felt a sensation like the relief of a giant cracked knuckle and then all the pain was gone in an instant.

"It's back in," I said. Clair dropped my arm and almost fell over in her haste to jump up and get away from it.

"It's better?" she asked as I was sitting up.

"It's still kind of sore," I said. "I don't think I should move it or anything but it's back in at least."

"Let's make you a sling or something," Clair said.

"Yeah, let's do that," I said. "Did a cannon go off?"

Clair looked to one side in consideration. "I'm not really sure," she said.

"Me, neither," I said. No one had come after us, anyway. "I hope so."

Clair Mushroom- District Seven female (17)

Once Oaken's shoulder was in place we wanted to get some distance between ourselves and whoever was left after that fight. We went up a dozen floors before we stopped to look for a first aid kit. The one we found was too small to have a sling but we cobbled something together out of some medical tape and some fabric we cut out of a curtain. Once that was done the first thing Oaken wanted to do was fuss over me. The cut in my face was only a flesh wound but it looked gnarly and it felt gnarly and it was bleeding a lot. Oaken dabbed it with a wet paper towel and swabbed it with alcohol after I swallowed two headache pills. It still hurt, obviously, but it was mostly a dull throb, like I'd taken a punch so hard it kind of stunned me so I couldn't feel the full pain.

"Am I ugly now?" I asked as Oaken tried to kind of press the wound together and figure out how to bandage it.

"No!" he said right away.

"Would you say that if you weren't my brother?" I asked.

"Yes!" he said.

"I guess it's not important," I said. I'd never cared too much about my looks. That didn't make me special or anything. I just didn't happen to have anything abnormal about my body. It was easy not to care what you looked like if you were pretty. So far two schoolyard suitors, one in third grade and one in sixth, had told me I was pretty. I found myself tearing up at the innocence of the memory. I wasn't going to have childhood sweethearts ever again and if I went out I would never know if a suitor was sincere.

"The Capitol will fix it up once we get out," Oaken said as he put the bandage on.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I said. "It's going to take awhile. Girl stuff," I said as he got up. Of course we had to go together but I wanted some time alone while he waited outside and that excuse would forestall any questions.

Inside the bathroom I took a mouthful of water from the sink and swished it around. I scrubbed my teeth with my finger and kept spitting until I couldn't taste blood anymore. I leaned over the sink and looked into the mirror.

I hadn't thought I would have to do something like that. Schoolyard sweethearts aside, I'd never thought much about romance in Seven. I liked playing outside and exploring by myself and it just hadn't come up yet. I'd kissed a boy but I'd never done anything more than that. But I had, sort of, and that was what was on my mind. What I'd done was a perversion of something intimate. It wasn't sex. It wasn't anything close to sex. But that perversion clung to me. My mind kept going back to the feel of a sexual organ in my hands and mouth. It cut me up inside. It was supposed to be something special. I didn't want this to be my first experience with it. It wasn't anything like sex but it was now a memory etched into my head and I was afraid for the rest of my life I would never be able to do what it was supposed to be without thinking about it. Without thinking of pain and blood and the horrible wrongness I had to do to stay alive.

I looked into the mirror at the reflection that looked like the same person as before it happened. I couldn't see what it was but I was different. It wasn't sex. But it was a violation. I stood by the sink washing my mouth again and again trying to wash it away.