Endure

by lind91

AU 3rd QUARTER QUELL/75th HUNGER GAMES -Juniper Ainsley is horrified about the changes announced by President Snow for the 3rd Quarter Quell. She's even more horrified when her name is drawn on Reaping Day. Forced to leave District 7 to fight for her life, can she endure the special, sinister, bloody arena? And what happens when she gets on a monstrous Career's bad side?(SLOW BURN)

14. Chapter 13: Discordant Duo

~Chapter Thirteen: Discordant Duo~

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"Any woman who is sure of her own wits, is a match, at any time, for a man who is not sure of his own temper." ―Wilkie Collins, The Woman in White

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We actually had some free time between breakfast the next morning and the arrival of our prep teams to get us ready for the upcoming announcement of the tribute pairs. The event itself was supposed to start around four-o-clock. Apparently, the outfits for it wouldn't be anything too outlandish and we weren't supposed to have a look tailored to our district, so our teams wouldn't have to spend all day working on us. It was impossible to coordinate since nobody knew who the partners would be, so I expected I would be wearing something relatively understated.

Minodora explained that the event itself would be simple– we would all be lined up on stage, and then they would call the pairs one at a time, announcing the partner for each tribute starting with District 1. When our name was called, we would make our way to the front by Caesar, and he would say a couple of words about the pairing (to hype up the crowd about it, of course) before we'd return to our places, to wait for the rest of the tributes to be called. Once all of the pairings had been announced, we'd all be ushered offstage.

After the event, we would link up with our partners in the lobby of the Training Center, and wait to be rejoined by our mentors. Then we'd be provided with a set conference time that we could use to "strategize" with our new partner and their mentor. When that time came, we would meet up in the large lounge, located in a part of the Training Center that we hadn't been allowed to access yet (the lounge was brand new for the Quell, according to Minodora).

The lounge contained more than half a dozen conference rooms within it, designed for the specific purpose of allowing the partnered Tributes and their mentors to meet and confer on neutral ground. The rooms provided a space for us to plan our Arena strategy after first being paired, without having to travel to another district's floor, and without risk of other tributes, mentors, or entourages overhearing.

Though of course, the conferences would be supervised by the Capitol; they'd all be recorded. No doubt so the Gamemakers could watch back the conferences later, see what we were up to, and plot our deaths accordingly.

We were only allowed an hour for the conference. Peacekeepers would kick us out as soon as our time slot was up. Any other coordination would have to be done on our own time, either on our respective district floors or in a more public setting, which wasn't really ideal for anyone.

The lounge had enough rooms for eight conferences to be held at a time, so there were only three separate time slots available. Because of this, it was theoretically possible for two tributes who had the same mentor to have conferences at the same time. Minodora assured me, though, that the Capitol was doing its best to accommodate for this. They didn't want a situation where the mentor had to split their time between two conferences.

I just hoped I wasn't unlucky enough to be stuck in a conference without Johanna there.

After Minodora finished giving us the spiel about the day's upcoming events, she began chatting eagerly about how the Capitol was all abuzz, trying to get their votes in before the window ended around noon. They'd had less than a day to vote for the tribute partners but apparently, everyone just loved being involved in the process. Minodora promised us (well, she was looking at Ben, but generally addressing all of us) that she'd encouraged all her friends to vote for great partners for the four of us.

I didn't feel reassured. I couldn't help but expect the worst today.

I planned to accost Ben right after we finished the hearty breakfast, but Johanna intervened. She brusquely informed us that she wanted to have a short mentoring session with each of us separately before the stylists arrived, starting with Ben. So much for a couple hours of free time.

My mentoring session wasn't as combative as the day before, but it was depressing. Johanna was even more pessimistic than I was. It was still possible I'd get paired with someone I could actually work with, but Johanna still thought I was most likely to end up with Cato, or even Caspian of all people, if he weren't put with Ben or another Career. So, we practiced how I'd react right when my partner was chosen, no matter how bad it was. I thought I had the straight-face part down already, but Johanna clearly didn't trust me. I supposed I couldn't blame her for doubting my capabilities in that regard.

After she dismissed me, I began to wander around the District 7 floor, hoping I could catch Ben for a few minutes before Orea and my prep team arrived.

I found him on the balcony, standing near the railing, staring out over the bustling city below. Like me, he seemed to enjoy spending time in the fresh air wherever possible. He glanced over his shoulder, smiling at me as I approached.

"Johanna bite your head off again?"

"Not any worse than usual," I responded. "It was better than yesterday. She just spent most the time foretelling my doom, since I'll probably be partnered with someone I hate."

A sympathetic look appeared on Ben's features, but I cut him off before he could move to reassure me. "I know I brought a lot of this on myself, so I can't complain." My voice came out more petulant than I wanted it to.

Ben's gaze hardened. "Yes, you can. You have plenty to complain about."

I knew this was his indirect way of saying "we shouldn't even have to be here in the first place". I agreed with him, but I couldn't dwell on it. In the back of my head, I still lamented at the unfairness of it all, but I couldn't waste energy getting angry at my shitty odds all over again.

Once more, as was my tendency, I decided to cut right to the subject.

"Are you going to tell me why you decided to bring Caspian up in your interview yesterday?"

A wry smile briefly curled at Ben's lips. "Somehow, I knew that's why you came out here."

"I'm about as subtle as one of Minodora's outfits."

He snorted, shaking his head, but quickly became somber as he turned to face me fully. "Johanna always wanted me to be paired with him. She thinks being allied with a Career gives me a better shot."

"Even though a Career, especially that one, might turn on you to steal the glory for himself?"

Ben frowned, contemplating. "I always had a hard time thinking of one of them as trustworthy. Hell, I still do…but I understand the advantages. When we first talked about it, Johanna said he probably won't betray me, because I can actually be a useful ally to him. I can hold my own. She said he's smart enough to know I'd be a threat to him as an adversary. And that makes sense…especially after I scored a 9." Ben almost looked a bit uncomfortable talking about his score, and I felt a pang, reminded of our argument days ago.

"So, the whole point of saying that in the interview was to get the Capitol to associate you with him? To make it more likely they'd vote for him as your partner?" I asked, Ben nodding in response as I spoke.

I had already come to this conclusion on my own, though it didn't answer all of my questions, so I continued, "Maybe it'll work out like that, but aren't you worried that what you said will just make him angry? Make him decide he'd rather try to kill you?"

"Getting the Capitol to vote for us as partners was part of it, but not my only concern." Ben hesitated for a moment, expression becoming inscrutable. "Originally, Johanna wanted me to mention that I saw him as a threat in the Arena, only if the question came up. She thought calling Caspian out specifically could help the Capitol mentally associate us. But after the shit he pulled yesterday during the intermission…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort.

I felt disgust well within me, remembering Caspian's comments from the day before. "You changed the narrative. He was no longer a threat to you, but to me. You made him into a villain, instead of just competition."

"You know how the Capitol is. They're definitely more likely to put us together now that there's a clear reason for animosity between us, more of a rivalry. Besides, he is a villain," Ben responded, annoyance flickering across his features, though I know it wasn't directed at me. "The shit he's done to you all week…you haven't deserved it. Especially what he said yesterday. He's disgusting."

"But making it into a big story the way you did is only going to anger him, and make him less likely to work with you, even if you end up partnered like you planned," I protested, still not liking the idea that he was risking anything because he was offended on my behalf.

"Maybe, but there are advantages. For one, if we're partnered—which, like I said, is even more likely now—it will allow me to keep a closer eye on him. Even if he decides to try to kill me, I can defend myself."

I shook my head. "I'm just worried that all you did was piss him off, in exchange for virtually no gain."

Ben's jaw clenched. "Now you sound like Johanna."

"Well, maybe Johanna had a point, then," I responded stubbornly.

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair, turning back to gaze out over the Capitol. "Look, June, there's only two ways I see this going." His voice was quieter now, and I watched him intensely, waiting for him to continue. "One, I'm partnered with him, and he doesn't try to turn on me. He'll be a very strong ally, and I'll be able to keep an eye on him, which will also mean I can ensure he doesn't come after you."

"Ben, you- " I moved to interrupt him, but he continued, talking over me,

"Two, he does try to turn on me, and a confrontation is forced. At best, I'll take him out, which will be one less major threat in the Arena."

"And at worst?" I asked, but not wanting to hear the answer.

"At worst, I can at least weaken him, and give you a better chance at winning." He turned back to me, green eyes burning with resolve. "But honestly, I think I have a pretty great shot against him, assuming a fair fight. You shouldn't underestimate me."

I felt a lump rise in my throat, for some reason, and I tried to force it down. "I'm not underestimating you. I just don't like the idea of you taking an unnecessary risk. Especially if…especially if part of the reason is to protect me."

Ben stepped closer to me, his gaze softening. "You've already had enough unfairness, June. You don't deserve that asshole coming after you, too."

"That doesn't mean you should be shouldering the burden," I replied, stubborn yet again. "It's the Arena. You have to look after yourself, just like I do."

But apparently, he was just as stubborn as me, because he was shaking his head. "I plan on it. I'll fight as hard as I can to survive. But I've said this before, and I'll say it again. If I don't win, I want it to be someone from District 7. Especially you. One of us has to survive." Ben took yet another step closer, until he was towering over me. "Okay? If it's not me, it better be you. And if I can help your chances, I'm going to."

I felt a burning behind my eyes. I blinked rapidly as I stared up at him, fighting it back as emotion swelled in my chest.

"You're too good of a person," I whispered, the sound barely escaping my throat as a whisper. "You shouldn't even be here."

"And you should?"

I didn't have an answer for that. Because honestly, none of us should be here. These Games shouldn't even exist. Not knowing what to say, I turned, staring out aimlessly over the city. The city of people celebrating the upcoming deaths of at least forty-six people.

Ben reached a hand out, squeezing my arm gently in nonverbal reassurance. The affectionate contact felt almost unfamiliar, after being in the cold, shallow Capitol for the last few days. He then mimicked my movements, turning to look back over the beautiful Capitol spread out before us, glimmering and blinding in the sunlight. We stood there in companionable silence.

I still hated the idea that he'd in any way, shape, or form be risking something to protect me. Regardless of how sure he was about it. I mentally resolved to make sure that in the Arena, I wouldn't do anything to put Ben at risk. I couldn't live with the guilt; and I'd already fully braced myself for the inevitability that I'd be on my own, and probably wouldn't even have a partner to support me.

My stomach sank again, dread beginning to unfurl within my insides at the upcoming event later this afternoon.

Ben and I didn't move from the balcony, standing side by side and gazing out wordlessly over the city, until our stylists and prep teams arrived, calling for us to come back inside to get ready.

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…

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The nerves were back in full force, slithering around under my skin and in my stomach, making me feel nauseated.

All of the tributes stood backstage in front of the Training Center, in single file line again, the tension prevalent in the air. Hardly any of us were talking now. My eyes were fixed forward, and I could practically sense Ben's uneasiness behind me. The wordless expectation hovered above all of us, as we waited to see who the Capitol and Gamemakers had chosen for us.

I glanced down at my outfit. Like every other tribute, I was wearing black—apparently, that was required, so that we would at least somewhat coordinate with whoever was chosen as our partner.

The floor-length black dress was form fitting, and one-shouldered, leaving my other shoulder bare. There was some beading across the top edge of the fabric and the one strap, but otherwise it was silky and sleek. The fabric clung to my waist and hips, and didn't allow a lot of superfluous movement when I walked, since it clung to my legs as well. Once again, there was a slit up one side, showing a flash of leg as I moved (and of course, despite this, I still had to resist the urge to pull the dress up above my ankles to walk more easily; I did not understand Capitol etiquette at all). The strappy heels were black, but I wore a simple golden bracelet and some more of those dangly, golden earrings that clipped to my earlobes. Orea had refused to allow me to be clothed in only one color.

My hair was curled and the extensions were in, but Lotus had drawn part of the sides back, twisting them and pinning them with a golden barrette behind my head in a half-up, half-down hairstyle. My eye makeup was dark and dramatic again, though without the golden eyeshadow, and Althea had made my lips a striking red that stood out against my skin.

I liked how elegant and relatively simplistic the look was, but right now, it was hard to be confident. I twisted the ring on my right hand (which I had again refused to take off) around my finger, over and over and over, as we waited to go on stage. The crowd was already beginning to gather outside. Like the interviews, there would be people in the stands and crowding in the streets, and all of Panem would be watching this spectacle.

I tried not to imagine how my family and friends would feel if Cato, or even Caspian, was chosen as my partner.

I suddenly heard the roar of the spectators wash over me in a wall of sound, and realized that the front of the line had started to move, the tributes from District 1 strolling on stage to a warm welcome. I shifted from foot to foot, bracing myself, perfecting my calm facial expression. No matter who they chose for me, I couldn't look angry or ungrateful.

Even though, if Cato was chosen to be my partner, I was sure they'd expect that type of reaction. The purpose of the arrangement would be to create drama in the Arena, after all.

Soon it was District 7's turn, and I tossed the crowd a bright smile and a quick wave as I arrived on stage. The lights once again blinded me, so many of them still turned on to create perfect lighting for the cameras, even though it was still light outside. I had to take smaller steps in this dress, and I moved cautiously, not wanting the hem to catch in one of the strappy heels. This time, we'd be required to stand. Though I supposed that the event itself couldn't be that long, with twenty-four pairs of tributes, and probably less than two minutes spent announcing each.

I arrived at the far end of the highest tier of the stage, turning to face the front. My eyes quickly found our team as I maintained my small, plastic smile. Johanna already looked like she was scowling, and Blight's brow was furrowed.

Caesar strode on stage, again wearing a black suit that coordinated well with the tributes' outfits, carrying a folded sheet of paper that depicted the partner selections. He smiled brilliantly as he waved at the crowd, cracking a joke about how long it had been since he'd seen anyone. As always, the spectators whistled and cheered, loving every bit of Caesar's performance.

Then, it was time to get to business.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I just can't tell you how thrilled I am to be here tonight, for such a significant event!" He paused, and a round of eager applause followed his words. "All of you voted for partners for your favorite tributes, and our esteemed Gamemakers have finalized the pairings, based on your selections! Aren't you excited to see the results?"

Another round of cheering, even more enthusiastic this time.

Yeah right, I thought. The Gamemakers probably decided some of these pairings long before the voting even ended.

"Before we begin, I have been asked by the Gamemakers to make one moreannouncement: there will be a very special rule in place for the first Arena."

Quiet murmurs of interest from the crowd.

Great, what are they up to now? I thought.

"The Gamemakers recognize the advantages that come with having a partner in the Arena, and wish to foster cooperation among the tributes. However," Caesar said, then his face grew somber and my stomach clenched as he continued, "They also want to illustrate the disadvantages of relying on another in the Arena. While there is strength to be drawn from an ally, you must also contend with—and compensate for—your ally's weaknesses, and their mistakes, if you wish to work together."

Where is this even going? I thought, perplexed, trying my hardest to keep a neutral expression.

"In light of that, they have established the following rule: Should your partner survive the first Arena, you will be rewarded, prior to entering the second Arena, with a single weapon, tool, or provision of your choice."

My expressionless mask slipped, as I felt the confusion wash over me in waves. What the hell? What are they doing? Why would they make such a rule?

My eyes found Johanna's in the crowd, and she looked absolutely flummoxed as well, as did a few of the tributes they were now displaying on the screens set up around the stage. Caesar took a dramatic pause, before continuing.

"However, should your partner fall, you will be penalized immediately upon their death with a significant impediment that will persist through the duration of the first Arena."

Quiet, for a second, before the meaning sank in and the crowd began to break out in excited murmurs at this newest development, with some hesitant applause.

"Any additional rules will be announced once the survivors of the first Arena have been determined." Caesar finished, grinned broadly. "Isn't this just so exciting?" The crowd loudly agreed.

I didn't understand. I was sure they wanted some of the tribute pairs to kill each other for the drama. Why would they impose this rule? It made no sense…although…as I thought about it, I realized Caesar had specified this rule was only in place for the first Arena. So, the Capitol was going to try to force the tributes to work together, but only at the beginning? Were they hoping to really build up the drama by having people work together, then later turn on each other?

It would fit what I knew about the Capitol, but still…

Another thought occurred to me, then. It didn't say you were penalized if you killed your partner; it was if your partner died at all. So, this rule would affect anyone whose partner died, even if they were working together beforehand. You could be punished for not doing a damn thing wrong, if your partner was careless.

And that, to me, became the obvious crux of the matter. The point of it all. The Gamemakers—the Capitol—wanted to illustrate the negative side of working with an ally. And this was their way to do it, to send a message about inter-district alliances. Your partner could screw you over, even if you didn't mess up. You were "rewarded" if your partner lived, but if your partner died, your survival would become a hell of a lot more difficult. I wasn't sure what "significant impediment" meant, but it couldn't be good. The Gamemakers weren't known to be kind.

Wait…if we can't kill our partners at first…

But as soon as it entered, I forced myself to push the thought away. I didn't know who I was stuck with yet. I couldn't fully consider the implications of the new rule until that was out of the way. I also couldn't attempt to work out the Capitol's motives, not yet. I'd have to ask Johanna about all of this later. I wanted to know if she agreed with my suspicions.

The crowd had finally quieted, and Caesar was talking again.

"Well then!" Caesar was saying, after the latest round of Capitol screeching and clapping had died down. "Glad that's out of the way! Now we can get right to it!"

More renewed cheering from the onlookers, as he unfolded the piece of paper slowly, building the suspense. "Here's how the tributes will be partnered for the Quarter Quell!"

The audience leaned forward in their seats excitedly, falling almost completely silent in their eagerness to catch Caesar's next words. Since he was going in order of District, the Careers were up first.

Caesar called Chiffon's name. Immediately, a bunch of the surrounding screens pulled up her tribute photo, while others displayed her live reaction. The graceful blonde was smiling as she sauntered down the stairs, confident as ever, coming to a stop right beside Caesar.

"And her partner shall be…Bastion Evander!"

Then the screens shifted to display the boy from 2 with the burn scar, as a wide grin broke across his face. He was truly pleased with his partner, it seemed. The crowd went wild, cheering and yelling as he strode down the stairs to join Caesar and Chiffon. Chiffon was smiling, too, and she even tossed a wink at her new partner. My stomach dropped; great, a Career pairing, both who scored 9s. I figured a lot of the Careers would be paired together since they were Capitol favorites and the Gamemakers wanted a good show, but still. It was unpleasant to watch.

Caesar made a couple comments to hype up the crowd even further, and then had the two of them shook hands (what a wonderful display of showmanship, I thought sardonically), before they turned and returned to their places.

The next pairing did not lift my spirits. Lambent from 1, probably one of the most popular tributes, was partnered with the strawberry blonde from District 4, Azure. Another Career pairing. They looked beautiful as they stood side by side, and it was no mystery why the Capitol had put them together.

Ruby, the other pretty District 1 girl with dark curls, was up next. She grinned brightly at the crowd as she joined Caesar, and he called out in an excited voice, "Rory Hawthorne!"

That shocked me. At least, for a second. But then I remembered that Rory was a Capitol favorite, so there was no way they wouldn't have voted for a strong partner for him. Ruby was pretty and engaging, but she had one of the lower scores when it came to Careers. I didn't think the Gamemakers could get by with giving Rory a weak partner, but they probably didn't want to give him one of the very strongest, either.

I was worried, for a second, because I figured she'd just turn on him and kill him as soon as she could. She looked happy enough on stage, convincingly giving Rory a smile instead of looking annoyed, but I just knew there was no way she was happy about being partnered with someone so young and untrained…although maybe, Ruby was smart enough to realize that he'd probably bring in a ton of Sponsors.

But then I remembered the new rule, and realized Ruby couldn't kill Rory until after the first Arena, and I actually felt relief. Even though I shouldn't care about Rory, it was hard to squash my empathy for him. His grey eyes looked rather shell-shocked as he joined her on stage, and the Capitol's shrieks had reached a fever pitch.

Next up was Onyx, the unnerving boy from District 1. A third Career pairing – he was put with Cassia, the cold and aloof girl from District 2. In a twisted way, it made sense, because they both had personalities that unsettled me, in a different way than the outright brutality and confidence of the other tributes.

Then it was District 2, and the vicious Tatiana was stepping up to Caesar, sneering as if she didn't give a damn who her partner was. The sneer became more pronounced when she was paired with the man from District 9, who was in his 30s. I remembered him because he'd been forcibly dragged on stage by multiple Peacekeepers after resisting at the Reaping, and he'd scored an 8 in his private session. He had also been gruff and aggressive during his interview. It was oddly fitting, I thought, perturbed.

I realized with a jolt that Bastion and Cassia had already been paired with others from District 1, so it was Cato's turn already. I folded my hands in front of me, hoping I looked passive. My heart was in my throat, and my stomach was twisting in knots.

"Cato Hadley!" Caesar called, and the giant boy loped over to him, face entirely emotionless. He took his place and then stared out at the audience with cold blue eyes. The crowd's cheering died down quickly, as if they were holding their breath.

I wondered if he had realized the very distinct possibility that I'd be paired with him.

Please not me. Please not me. I thought, hoping I still looked neutral.

Caesar glanced back down at the sheet in his hand, lips already forming a smile.

My stomach clenched, as a sick sense of foreboding washed over me.

Please not me.

Caesar cleared his throat. "And Mr. Hadley's partner is…Juniper Ainsley!"

Fuck.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, while it felt like an icy fist gripped my insides. For a second, I thought I might throw up, as my stomach lurched. But I had practiced this, all morning, with Johanna. I had to keep the façade up. Even though my heart sank and a sense of lightheadedness gripped me as soon as my name left Caesar's lips, I was not caught off guard. And I wouldn't give the Gamemakers the satisfaction of seeing the horror and despair I was definitely feeling. I wouldn't let them know I wanted to cry and scream until my throat was hoarse. They didn't deserve to see what I was truly thinking.

So, I forced my mouth into what I hoped was a small, confident smile. I felt Ben looking at me, but I kept my eyes focused on the stairs in front of me as I moved.

One step, then another, then another. One step at a time. The lights were beaming down on me, and I was sure every eye in Panem was on me right now. I was sure my family was horrified, watching me be paired with the most dangerous tribute in the Games, who would definitely take the first opportunity to kill-

But no. Maybe not yet, maybe not at first. Maybe not with the new rule. Maybe, for the first Arena, I was safe…

The thought buoyed me, just slightly, and I reached the bottom of the stairs. Pretending that I wasn't approaching one of the most despicable people I'd ever encountered, I tossed a smile and wave at the crowd.

You can do it. You practiced this.

They were still going absolutely wild, because they'd probably done this, and the Gamemakers had loved the idea and rolled with it. I hated them, all of them.

Caesar grinned brightly as me as I stepped up to join them, refusing to look at Cato, not that he was even turned towards me. For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heart, trying to crawl out of my chest. Although I was technically to Cato's right, I positioned a couple feet away, not wanting to be any closer to him than necessary. Even still, I could see from the corner of my eye that his height and build contrasted comically with mine. I was curious about the expression on his face, but I wouldn't glance at the screens, because that might make it harder to keep my composure. I faced the crowd, smiling outwardly, while inside I was full of regret and loathing. My eyes found Johanna in the crowd.

Her face was a dark scowl, eyes narrowed, but she was not remotely surprised. Her eyes darted between me and Cato, calculating.

Caesar stepped up in front of us, addressing the crowd, which had quieted slightly now. "Now, pardon me for a second while I make sure of something."

He turned around, making a big show of looking me up and down, frowning in mock contemplation, before turning to face the crowd again. "I was just double checking to make sure Juniper is empty handed!" He said, then laughed boisterously at his own joke.

The crowd joined him, laughter ensuing from the teeming masses. It scraped against my nerves, but I kept the smile on my face, because I wasn't remotely surprised that he'd brought that up yet again. Deliberately, and hating myself more than a little, I raised my hands upward, so the crowd could see they were empty. I felt sick that I was going along with this.

That resulted in anotherwave of laughter from the onlookers, this one even louder. They just loved me playing into the joke.

Once they settled down, Caesar turned back to us. "I'm very excited to see the two of you partnered together." He raised a lavender brow. "I'm sure we're all eager to witness two brave tributes, setting aside their differences to work alongside one another in the Arena!"

I smiled and nodded, still repulsed by my own insincerity, refusing to look at Cato's reaction. I could sense his tension though, even from a couple feet away.

Caesar turned to the front again. "What do you all think? Will they be able to pull it off?"

My smile didn't budge, but I was thinking, yeah right. Half the reason they put us together is because they want to see us at each other's throats.

But the crowd had let loose another resounding cheer, at least pretending they had faith in Cato and me.

"I'm with you, I'm with you!" Caesar said in response to the audience's enthusiasm, nodding sagely. "I'm sure these two will be something to watch!"

That part is certainly true, I thought wryly.

Caesar was continuing, "And I, for one, can't wait to check in on how things are going during the interview in a couple of days!"

With another backdrop of eager applause from the spectators, Caesar turned back to me and Cato. Briefly, a knowing look appeared in his eye, and I wondered just how calculating the man was, under the veneer of his showmanship.

"Now, if you two could please shake hands. That'll get us off to a great start!"

I felt sick. I did not want to shake Cato's hand. Half of me was worried he'd try to rip my arm off. I felt my spine stiffen in protest as I turned, slowly, to face him. The crowd was watching intensely, clearly eager to see if we'd be able to do this simple, basic act of good manners without causing any drama.

I really wished I could disappear into the floor. Or even just turn and return to my place on stage. But Johanna would kill me, and the Capitol would definitely look down on that. It would make things even worse.

I glanced up, my eyes connecting with Cato's. He was doing a remarkable job at keeping a composed expression, but once we made eye contact, I could see the dislike emanating from his gaze. The anger. He was not thrilled. He didn't want to touch me any more than I wanted to touch him.

Suck it up and do it, I heard Johanna's voice in my head.

Steeling myself, I stretched a hand out towards Cato. The self-loathing had increased even more now, which I didn't think possible. Cato's jaw clenched noticeably, and I knew he was having the same thoughts.

And he knew what the consequences would be if he didn't play along.

So he stretched out one massive hand, enveloping mine. His hand dwarfed my own, and his skin was cold. Not clammy, just…cold. Like him.

We briefly shook hands then, his grip intensifying as we did so—it became almost crushing, far more strength in his grip than was necessary for a normal handshake—and I felt pain lance through my hand. It took everything I had not to visibly wince in discomfort, but I gritted my teeth and attempted to keep my neutral expression. I shouldn't be surprised. I pulled back as soon as I could, not wishing to draw out the handshake even a little.

Judging by Cato's eyes, he was pleased with his small display of dominance, even if nobody else had noticed.

"Good, good!" Caesar was saying, simultaneously looking content and amused. I turned back to the front, feeling the annoyance at Cato's action simmering under the surface. "I look forward to seeing both of you in the Arena! Ladies and gentlemen, once again: Cato Hadley and Juniper Ainsley!"

Then the crowd cheered again, and Caesar gestured to indicate we could return to our places on stage. I tossed the onlookers another wave and a (hopefully) bright smile, ignoring the fact that discomfort still lingered in my hand.

Cato strode ahead of me, back to his place on stage, and I deliberately loitered behind a few paces, trying not to stare daggers at his back because a camera would probably see it.

Fortunately, I didn't stumble on my trip back up the stairs (these heels were getting easier to walk in every time, though this dress wasn't particularly conducive to move in). As I approached my spot on the highest tier of the stage again, I sensed Ben's eyes on me. I glanced up, meeting his gaze. I could tell that, despite the placid expression he wore, Ben felt bad for me.

Well, I felt bad for myself. But I couldn't wallow in it. At least, not yet, with so many people watching.

I turned back to the front, holding my head high and folding my hands in front of me. I forced my lips to remain in a small, content smile. As if I were happy I'd been paired with Cato. I had the sudden childish urge to wash and scrub at my right hand until the skin was raw. I wanted to forget the feel of Cato's enormous hand, wrapping around my frail one, trying to subtly crush it as we pretended to be civil.

District 3's pairings were up next, but most of them weren't particularly interesting. The young boy, who couldn't be older than thirteen, was placed with the young girl from District 6 who cried on stage at the Reaping. They didn't stand much of a chance.

The older woman from District 3, who I had briefly spent time with at one of the survival stations and who had come across very motherly to me, ended up being paired with Basil from 11. That caught my eye. I supposed they had both spent their interviews talking about their children and families, and seemed to be roughly the same age. It made sense the Capitol would put them together.

The older man from District 3 was paired with Rudd. I didn't know much about the man from 3 (or either of them, really), but they were some of the older tributes, and they both had rather underwhelming interviews. Neither of the men projected much charisma as they stood up next to Caesar, and the crowd's applause seemed very reserved.

District 4 was up next. Azure had already been paired with Lambent, so Caesar moved right on to Marlin, the boy with darker features who never seemed to be overly thrilled to be here, despite volunteering. He was paired with the bulky man from District 10 who was in his 30s, and who had scored a 9 during his private session. That was certainly a pair to watch out for. Marlin didn't seem too displeased with his partner.

Mariana, the only non-volunteer from District 4, was partnered with the younger boy from District 8 who had seemed alert and intelligent during his interview. Afterwards, Caspian was next to be paired. The golden-haired boy strolled up to Caesar as if he didn't have a care in the world.

I tried not to shift nervously, trying my best to keep my straight-backed posture and poise. I knew what Ben was trying to do, but part of me really hoped he wouldn't be successful. Because the thought of him extensively being around Caspian…well, it made me uncomfortable. The boy was despicable.

I've already been unlucky enough today. Surely, something will at least go right? I thought, almost morosely.

"And his partner will be…Benjamin Thorne!" Caesar said excitedly.

Of course not.

Benjamin grinned—convincingly, because I supposed this was what he wanted all along—before ambling down the stairs to go join his new partner. Caspian, of course, was smirking as usual.

I glanced back and forth between the two of them as they stood next to Caesar. Similar in build, and in the fact that the Capitol found them charming and charismatic, but so different in personality. It was unnerving to see Ben standing so close to him, for them to be pretending like they got along.

"Well, well, isn't this a surprise!" Caesar was chuckling.

Not at all, I thought.

Caesar then proceeded to spout some nonsense similar to what he'd said about me and Cato, and specifically pointed out that now, Benjamin might actually get what he wanted: the chance to keep an eye on Caspian. He put a positive spin on it, of course, saying that the two could "watch each other's backs" and "hold each other accountable", but Caesar wasn't stupid. He had to know about the underlying animosity that was no doubt present.

I saw one screen briefly transition into depicting my face as Caesar spoke, no doubt remembering that Ben had said Caspian was a threat to me more than anything. I tried to stay composed and neutral, but inside, I felt like I was wilting. It just seemed like the worst possible outcomes were all falling into place.

Soon afterwards, Ben was returning to his place next to me, Caspian the tier below us—I kept my gaze resolutely fixed ahead—and Caesar was moving on.

Nothing particularly interesting stood out about the next several pairings. The faces and names flashed by in a blur, and I knew it would be next to impossible to memorize who everyone was paired with. I didn't really recognize any of the remaining unpaired tributes from 5 or 6, since they hadn't stood out in the Parade, interviews, or scoring sessions.

I did note that the younger boy from District 6 was paired with the small girl, Poppy, from District 12. They both looked terrified. The man from District 6 who was missing an arm was paired with the older male tribute from District 8. The man from 8 had an obvious expression of mixed sympathy and unease on his face that he tried to mask.

Our district was up next, but since three of us had already been paired, Autumn was the only one left for Caesar to call. To my dismay, she was paired with the young girl from District 8, the one who got sick to her stomach a lot.

How cruel, I thought. It made sense, horribly, because Autumn was frail and sickly and the girl from 8 never looked much better. Of course the Capitol would mentally associate them with each other. Or, perhaps the Gamemakers thought it was funny to put two of the feeblest tributes together. I couldn't help but think that this was guaranteeing an even swifter death for her, which made part of me angry.

Yet, that tiny, survivalist part of me that always had a voice in these types of situations spoke up then; it told me that perhaps it was better for Autumn to die earlier on, instead of suffering.

Caesar moved on; I didn't think I was imagining the fact that the crowd was growing less and less interested now, since pretty much all of their favorite tributes had been paired off. All of 8 had already been paired, none of 9 stood out except the man that had already been paired with Tatiana, and the only pair from 10 that seemed to really have a chance was the man that was already partnered with Marlin from 4. It was hard to pay attention, and my nerves were growing again, because I'd have to face Cato in the Training Center lobby soon enough.

My attention was briefly caught again as Harrow from 11, who had scored an 8 but underperformed in his interview, was paired with the older man from 12. My interest quickly waned again, though, and I tuned out whatever Caesar was saying as the two stood next to each other at the front of the stage. All of District 12 had been paired off by now, so Harrow was the last to go.

Once Caesar announced that all of the partners had been selected, the audience regained some of their enthusiasm. Their clapping and cheering and whistling filled the air yet again as they saw the (supposed) impact their votes had on our Arena chances. My hatred for both the crowd and the Gamemakers increased. I knew I needed to keep it together, though; not just for me, but for my family, too. I forced another wave and a happy smile, pretending I was content with who was chosen for me, until the anthem began blaring all around us.

Soon after it ended, the lights dimmed. Just like the night before, we were ushered off stage, to go meet our partners in the lobby of the Training Center. Our mentors would join us soon after.

I sighed heavily as I walked side by side with Ben. Most of the tributes were silent, but I saw that a few of the Career pairs had already started chatting with each other excitedly. Of course, they were happy with their partners. Even if they'd turn on each other in the end, they were content for now, because they had a bloodthirsty ally that could help them murder their way to the end of the Games. They weren't worried about their partner dragging them down.

For a brief moment, as we first walked into the lobby, I held onto the hope that maybe Cato would be so angry that he'd head straight upstairs and refuse to talk to me.

But knowing him, he'd somehow view that as cowardly. Or he wouldn't want the others to see him avoiding me.

The tributes were beginning to split off now, each going over to converse with their partner, spreading out across the massive lobby.

"So, it seems they've paired us up," came the sardonic voice from our left before we got too far into the lobby. I turned, expecting the worst, especially after the luck I'd had. But for once, Caspian's stare wasn't directed at me; he was focused on Ben next to me. He did not look amused as he stepped up to us, something almost confrontational in his posture.

"Seems so," Ben replied, neutrally, but I could feel the tension in the air.

Caspian glanced at me briefly, something unreadable lurking in the depths of his expression, and I decided this was the appropriate time to take my leave. I couldn't deal with Caspian and Cato tonight, and I could speak with Ben later.

"Good luck," I said to Ben, not even bothering to keep the distaste out of my voice. I then strode away before Caspian could try to get a snarky little comment in, deciding it was inevitable that I'd have to go deal with Cato.

My eyes found the boy almost instantly; there were only forty-eight of us, and he tended to stand out in a crowd. He wasn't too far from the elevators and was leaning against the wall, looking absolutely mutinous.

I felt trepidation wash over me, but I really couldn't hesitate, and look weak right now. Although, I didn't think that Cato could have a lower opinion of me than he already did. Not that I cared, since it was mutual.

Sighing, I steeled myself. I ignored the nerves fluttering in my stomach. It wasn't like he could kill me right here. The faster I spoke with him, the sooner we could get this over with. I already knew what this conversation would consist of: insults, glares, and more insults.

I made my way over towards Cato, weaving through the few tributes between me and my destination, still having to pace myself in this dress. It was hard, remaining calm and composed with the amount of uneasiness and distaste coursing through me right now.

Those cold eyes settled on me, the dislike burning in his gaze again as I approached. This time he didn't even try to pretend that we could be civil. His glare made it obvious that he wished the ground would just swallow me up right here and now.

"Pleased with yourself, 7?" Cato snapped once I was several feet away.

I stopped; part of me wanting to give a sharp retort, the rest just wanting to curl into a ball and scream in frustration until I passed out.

"Why would I be?" I responded instead, keeping my tone neutral.

He stood up straight from his position of leaning against the wall, immediately looking even more imposing as he did so. The look he was giving me suggested that Cato thought I was the dumbest person in the Capitol.

"Your little stunt convinced the Capitol that we should be paired together. And now, I'm stuck with a partner who is worse than useless." Cato's eyes radiated disgust.

I gritted my teeth. "It wasn't like this was my goal," I bit back.

Cato scoffed. "You expect me to believe that? Who wouldn't want the strongest tribute as their partner?"

My eyebrows rose, as did my annoyance. "Seriously? Why would I want a partner who will try to kill me at the first opportunity?"

Cato's gaze darkened. "You say try,as if I wouldn't be successful."

But I ignored the implied jibe, remembering the words Caesar had spoken on stage, before the partners were selected. "Everything is different now, after the rule they announced. But I couldn't have predicted that, and it doesn't mean I tried to orchestrate this."

Cato's eyes narrowed. "You think I still won't kill you?"

This was where my mind had been going earlier; I had wondered how the rule would affect Cato, and his clear plan to murder me the first chance he got.

"In the first Arena, when you'd immediately be penalized because of it?" I felt a mixture of nervousness and disbelief. Was he seriously going to just disregard the consequences?

"Maybe I'll just take my chances," he replied coldly, his voice deadly serious. "Besides, I'll probably have to deal with the penalty either way, since I'm sure someone will kill you even if I don't get to you first."

My incredulity rose, and again, I ignored the insult. "Are you seriously telling me that you'll make your own life harder in the Arena, and risk losing the Games, just to kill me?"

Cato's glare became more pronounced, boring into me, before he spoke. "It may not be that much of a risk. Nobody knows what the penalty will be when our partner dies. Again, maybe I'll just take my chances."

I have to convince him of the stupidity of that plan. I have to make sure he doesn't come for me during the first Arena, at least.

I shook my head, part of me starting to feel even more afraid of him, while the rest was still stuck on the disbelief and incredulity. "They said the 'impediment' will be significant, and last for the entire first Arena. It's the Gamemakers we're talking about here." Cato looked like he wanted to interrupt, but I continued to speak, the words coming out rapidly, "What if they take away your supplies and weapons? Or physically injure you in some way? Either way, it'll probably heavily impact your ability to fight. And you're legitimately saying that you'd risk it over a grudge?"

Cato was silent for a moment, still glaring daggers at me, and I continued again before he could respond, "You said you've wanted to win, even since you were a kid, to bring glory back to your district. Are you telling me you'd put your hatred for me before your goal of becoming a Victor?"

Cato's gaze hardened, and he looked even angrier now. But despite my uneasiness at his ferocity, I knew this only meant that he realized I had a point. Otherwise, he wouldn't look like he was one second away from hurling me across the room. I felt a nervous tremor down my spine, but I held my ground.

If he killed me and suffered a horrible penalty as a result, he would have put his pride, and his disgust for me, above the thing he'd trained for his entire life. And I was sure that, at the end of the day, Cato knew how stupid that was. He'd been through enough preparation for the Games to know that it was moronic to intentionally cause problems for himself just because he hated me, someone he met only a few days ago.

"I will kill you the instant that rule no longer applies," Cato said coldly, after a short, tense silence. He, too had picked up on Caesar's phrasing, and concluded this rule would only apply through the first part of the Games. Although, also judging by what Caesar had said, there would be additional, different rules in the second and third Arenas.

"And in the meantime, you'd better not fuck me over by getting yourself killed." He added. His expression suggested that he had absolutely no faith in me.

Fortunately, before I could retort (the sarcastic, irritated response was lingering on the tip of my tongue), Johanna arrived, Enobaria just a few paces behind her.

"Playing nice?" Johanna asked sarcastically, eyes darting between me and Cato.

"He hasn't killed her yet," Enobaria broke in smoothly. "I'm sure you're relieved." She grinned at Johanna, sharp teeth glinting.

"Can we go?" Cato snapped, annoyed, clearly not in a good mood.

"Why so eager?" Enobaria responded, almost looking amused, though her eyes still had the same feral glint they'd had every time I saw her on television.

"Why do you think?" Cato bit back through gritted teeth, not even seeming the slightest bit afraid of angering his mentor.

"Our conference is supposed to start in less than fifteen minutes." Johanna cut in before anyone else could respond, tossing Cato a scalding look. "We're one of the groups scheduled for the earliest time slot." She turned to me, jerking her head in the direction of the elevator. "If you want to get changed beforehand, then let's go."

She didn't have to tell me twice. Any time away from Cato was a positive thing. Without another word to Cato and his mentor—not that the two of them would want to make small talk, anyway—Johanna and I strode over to the nearest elevator. Several other tributes and mentors were already clustered, waiting their turn. Cato and Enobaria made no move to join us, probably not wanting to be caught in the same elevator.

Then again, Cato wasn't wearing heels or a floor length down. He probably didn't even have to change.

Johanna didn't speak as we waited for the elevator to arrive, but I could sense the tension radiating off of her in waves. While it would be a relief to get out of this gown, I highly suspected that Johanna had an ulterior motive for bringing me upstairs right before the conference.

The elevator arrived shortly afterwards, we crowded in with several others, and remained in an oppressive silence until we arrived on the District 7 floor.

---

…

---

Johanna had wordlessly gestured for me to go get changed, and I didn't hesitate. It was cathartic to be able to slide into the dark green shirt and pants, and the simple, comfortable shoes were a relief after tottering around in heels so often. I glanced in the mirror. It was comical, seeing the difference between my carefully put together makeup and hair and my overly casual outfit.

As I was quickly getting changed, I'd heard Ben arrive back on the floor. I wanted to talk to him now that we both knew what we were dealing with, not that I had much time now. When I emerged from my room Johanna (as usual) was pacing, this time along the hall that led to the elevators.

Ben stood nearby, watching her with a frown. His eyes found me immediately.

"Are you okay?" He asked me, sympathy entering his expression.

"Are you?" I retorted. Not like his partner was any more pleasant than mine to be around.

"You two can commiserate later," Johanna snapped, breaking into our conversation. She turned to face us, folding her arms across her chest. "Fact is, you're stuck with them. But now, things are different. After that new rule they announced."

"They can't turn on us, at least during the first Arena," I said, continuing her train of thought. "Well, hopefully," I added as an afterthought.

Her dark eyes found mine. "Surely, even 2 isn't stupid enough to risk a significant disadvantage in the Arena, just to kill you, no matter how annoying you are."

"Before you showed up, that's what we were talking about. I think I convinced him that it would be a waste of all of his training to let a grudge potentially interfere with his victory."

She gave a nod of her head. "Good. Even if you didn't convince him, I'm sure his mentors will. Especially when it seems this rule is temporary." Her eyes shifted over to Ben. "What about the boy from 4?"

Ben shrugged, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I mean, he didn't threaten to kill me, if that's what you're getting at. I think he knows better, especially after the rule."

"Let's hope so." Johanna returned to pacing. "So, at least temporarily, you'll have to cooperate. It's one thing not to kill each other, but with the way that rule works, it's in your best interest to actively make sure your partner doesn't die."

But of us were silent, contemplating, and knowing she was right.

That would be easier for me than Cato, I knew. Which was probably why he was so angry. He could take care of himself easily; at least when it came to fighting, there wasn't much I could do to improve his chances of survival in combat. Other than watch his back if he were outnumbered. But I was completely screwed in hand-to-hand combat, or against any Career, or in the event I didn't get an axe. Cato was far more at risk of being penalized for his partner dying than I was. I knew that I had skills at my disposal, and I wasn't discounting myself. But I was sure Cato was losing his mind at the possibilities of what could go wrong.

"Who knows what shit the Gamemakers will try to pull in the second or third Arenas, but one thing at a time. I don't care how much you each hate your partners. You'll need to stick with them at first." Her eyes fixated on me again, and it was like Johanna was reading my thoughts. "This works out well for you, Twiggy. He's one of the strongest tributes here, and now he can't kill you."

I nodded, grimacing. I supposed that, all things considered, this rule change actually worked in my favor. At least at first.

Somehow, though, I knew that meant the Gamemakers would probably screw me over in the second or third Arena. If I made it that far. They wanted a big dramatic moment with Cato killing me, and I was sure they'd try to orchestrate it.

I couldn't help but feel that at some point, this was going to go very, very wrong.

---

…

---

The lounge itself was on the ground floor of the training center, past double doors we had never been allowed to access previously and down a long hallway. Two peacekeepers stood outside the second set of double doors at the end, watching our every move as Johanna led me down the hallway. Ben wasn't slated to have his conference until the next hour, so she wouldn't need to split time between us.

I was relieved. Being alone with Cato and Enobaria? That would be something out of my nightmares.

The second set of double doors opened into a sizeable open room, with various couches and sitting areas scattered about, and elegant light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. There was large television affixed to the right wall, already replaying the partner selections even though the event had just ended. There was even a small bar area in one corner of the room; an Avox was currently serving a couple of Capitol escorts. I supposed that on a normal day, when tributes weren't being brought into the conference rooms, this was a place for our entourages to socialize.

The entire left wall and back wall of the large room were made of glass, with doors interspersed at regular intervals, leading to the conference rooms. The glass had been darkened, giving privacy to the inhabitants of the individual conference rooms. A peacekeeper stood in front of each door, eight in total.

A small panel next to each door listed the names of those scheduled to use that conference room. Johanna stopped at the fourth door down, glaring at the Peacekeeper until he stepped aside, pressing a button to admit us into the room.

The door slid open smoothly to reveal a smaller, but elegant room. There was a sleek, rectangular table in the middle, with eight leather chairs situated around it. An Avox lurked in the corner, awaiting our every instruction. The Peacekeeper who had been lurking outside followed us in, taking up residence in the opposite corner. Either the Capitol didn't trust us not to be at each other's throats, or they just wanted to make us uncomfortable.

Probably both.

Unfortunately, Cato and Enobaria were already present. Cato's mood hadn't improved in the last fifteen minutes, and his mentor was eyeing me in a way that suggested she found me lacking.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" Johanna said coolly, after a second or two of awkward silence. She sat at the table across from Cato and his mentor, gesturing for me to join her. I obliged, deciding to fix my eyes on the center of the table right in front of me instead of the brutish boy from 2. These death glares were going to get old in the Arena, and quickly.

"So," Enobaria began (after another brief awkward silence), and I didn't like the calculating tone in her voice. "We all know what District 2 is capable of." I raised my gaze to meet hers, and she smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "What are you going to bring to this alliance?"

"Nothing," Cato cut in, before I could even speak. "I'm sure she's been planning on running and hiding." His tone was just dripping with contempt.

Johanna was glaring at him, but I knew I had to say something for myself. I tried to quell the irritation that instantly sparked whenever he spoke. "I spent a lot of time learning survival skills." I addressed Enobaria, ignoring Cato's scoff, as he clearly didn't think much of my statement. "I'm pretty good on the edible plants and insects. I can make basic snares, rope traps and a shelter, and start a fire without matches. I also know some first aid."

Enobaria didn't look impressed, but at least she didn't have an outright mocking expression like Cato did. "You scored a 7, correct?" The woman asked, still eying me with unnerving intensity.

"Yes."

Enobaria turned back to her tribute. "The Gamemakers must think she isn't totally useless," she said. Her overly casual tone got under my skin.

Cato didn't look convinced. "Survival skills won't help if she gets killed during the bloodbath."

"Why would I fight in the bloodbath?" I demanded, making eye contact with him finally. I tried to keep my voice level, knowing this whole thing was being recorded and would probably be watched by the Gamemakers.

He shook his head, annoyance seemingly increasing. "Do you understand how this works? Either I risk being outnumbered because you run away, or I risk being penalized because you try to fight and get killed. How am I supposed to strategize around that? There aren't any options."

In some twisted way, I understood part of his conundrum, to an extent. I wasn't totally useless with all weapons like he thought, but I also knew it would be foolish for me to fight in the bloodbath.

"Then maybe…neither of us should fight in the bloodbath," I suggested.

"The cowardly approach. Why am I not surprised?" Cato replied coldly, no compromise in his voice. He clearly didn't care if the Gamemakers would watch this conference later and see him coming across as a total ass.

"Maybe that's the safest option this year, with all the new rules," I responded, trying not to get even more annoyed, and mostly failing.

"You're seriously suggesting we run around the Arena without any supplies?" He demanded, blue eyes flashing.

"I didn't say that!" It was hard to keep my tone even, and the tension was evident.

"Sure sounded like it," he retorted, irritation laced in his voice.

"I meant that we'll have Sponsors, surely, and we can-" I bit back through gritted teeth, but he interrupted me before I could finish.

"You mean, I'll have Sponsors, that you'll just conveniently benefit-"

"Enough!" Johanna snapped. Her eyes were flashing with annoyance. In contrast, Enobaria was looking between me and Cato, looking mildly entertained.

Johanna's gaze shifted to the other mentor. "I'm glad you seem to be enjoying this, but I, for one, don't want to waste my time in here."

Enobaria raised an eyebrow coolly. "So what's your suggestion? Cato is right. Her lack of capability with weapons puts him at a disadvantage either way."

Johanna sighed, sounding as if she'd rather be anywhere but here. "With forty-eight tributes, it's going to be absolute chaos at the cornucopia."

Enobaria's eyes shifted to me, then back over to Johanna. "What are you implying? That she should try to get a weapon and get out?"

The thought made me extremely nervous. I didn't want to go anywhere near the cornucopia, and I didn't think Johanna wanted me to, either. I saw tributes make that mistake all the time – venture close to the cornucopia, thinking they could sneakily grab something and escape, before a Career impaled them with a ranged weapon. With more than forty people trying to kill me, I didn't like those odds.

I moved to protest but, fortunately, my mentor was shaking her head. "Not unless there's one close enough that there's virtually no risk, which seems unlikely." Those dark eyes flicked over to Cato. "But maybe he can. Like I said, it'll be chaotic, with there being so many tributes this year, and the partner rule thrown in. And surely he's capable of defending himself long enough to grab something useful and escape, as long as he does it quickly." The last part was riddled with sarcasm.

Cato, once again, looked annoyed. "Seriously? That's your plan?"

Johanna observed him coldly. I felt an odd sense of satisfaction that she wasn't hiding her dislike. "Better yet, grab two, one for each of you. Make a plan to meet up afterwards. Juniper can avoid the bloodbath since she's not trained in combat. Less risk that way."

Cato's angry scowl was fixated on her, now. "If I go to the Cornucopia when my partner doesn't, I'm at risk of being outnumbered."

Johanna's eyes narrowed. "That's why you get out quickly, genius. You don't stay longer than necessary. If you're as good as you say you are, it would take quite an effort to take you out. There's really only a few tribute pairings that could pull that off, and I would assume they'll be busy fighting each other, too. Unless…"

A calculating expression crossed her face, and she turned to Enobaria. "My assumption was that there wouldn't be a big alliance between the tributes from 1, 2 or 4 this year, because of the pairings. Unless you know otherwise?" Her tone had become lofty, and one dark eyebrow was raised.

I immediately realized that Johanna had been trying to steer the conversation exactly to this point; to figure out if there was still going to be a Career alliance behind-the-scenes.

Enobaria smiled, but the expression wasn't friendly, and her sharpened teeth just made it look sinister. "I've heard rumors, but I'm afraid Cato would know far more than me about it."

Cato's expression darkened, but he didn't elaborate. So, they did know something, but weren't going to clarify. Great.

I wasn't sure whether to assume that Cato would be joining a Career alliance, or to assume that he knew he wouldn't be joining them, which would explain his reluctance to go to the Cornucopia alone. Or maybe he just didn't trust any alliance not to turn on him if they caught him outnumbered. He was one of the biggest singular threats in the Arena. That made the most sense. In previous years, typically the Careers stuck with their district partners and didn't seem to turn on each other until late in the game. This year was different in so many ways, though. Tributes from the same district were being pitted against each other from the beginning. Most tributes would probably avoid killing people from their home district…but Careers?

"If you know about people teaming up, I feel like I should at least be aware of it, especially if you're involved," I interjected, unable to help it.

Cato's frosty glare settled on me. "Why do you even care, if you're just going to be running away regardless?"

Irritation bit at me, and I didn't try to conceal it this time. "First you complain about my idea to run and hide. Then you complain that if I'm hiding, you might be outnumbered, even if you're just grabbing a weapon. But you also said that I might get myself killed if I tried to help you. Do you realize how unreasonable and inconsistent you're being?"

The glare intensified. "I'm just proving how impossible it is to work with you, because you bring nothing to the table."

"Yet right now, you're the one who isn't offering any productive suggestions. At least we're trying to make this work." I retorted heatedly. Gamemakers be damned; Cato was being far less civil than I was.

"You'd call your suggestions productive?" Cato responded incredulously.

"Certainly more productive than just sitting there glaring at everyone!"

"Shut up, you two!" Johanna broke in, radiating annoyance yet again. "This isn't getting us anywhere, and all this bickering is annoying. I can't decide if you act more like young children, or an old married couple."

Now it was my turn to glare at her, the anger simmering under the surface now, especially at the horrid 'old married couple' implication. I felt the heat of my frustration rush to my cheeks. I could sense Cato seething across the table, too. Seriously, was everyone in here just going to insult me the whole time?

Johanna's eyes flicked over to Enobaria. "Maybe the adults in the room can figure out a plan, and then we can get the hell out of here."

Enobaria shrugged, truly not looking particularly bothered by whether we ended up coming up with a plan or not. I suspected that, regardless of what happened here, she'd have specific instructions for Cato.

Johanna was entirely unamused at how this was going. "So, let me get this straight. There may be an alliance forming, but you're not going to tell us more details." Enobaria's expression suggested she still wouldn't be elaborating on whatever was going on with the Careers, so Johanna scowled and continued, "I'm not going to allow my tribute—who is scrawny, impulsive, and entirely untrained in close combat—put her life at risk when there are alternatives. The Cornucopia is out of the question for her."

I felt an odd surge of gratitude, still mixed with frustration, especially with the additional insults, even if they were true. Cato looked annoyed, but my mentor didn't let him speak, for which I was also very thankful. "And if you're truly that worried about some hypothetical alliance outnumbering you, then you can follow June's strategy, only grab anything that's close enough to be virtually no risk, and then get out."

"And you expect them to succeed with so few supplies between them?" Enobaria asked, not seeming remotely enthused by the idea.

Mentally, I sighed, as Johanna began to explain (in a very annoyed tone of voice) how stupid it would be to needlessly risk ourselves when we'd probably have Sponsors and the Capitol wouldn't want us dying of something boring, like dehydration or starvation. I knew that in her Games, Johanna had faked being weak for a long time, before exploding in a bout of savagery that shocked everyone. So, it was no surprise to me that she was advocating for lying low early in the Games.

The two mentors continued to go back and forth, but I didn't feel like there was much progress made. My nerves were frayed, and they only got worse the longer this meeting went on. At the end of the day, Cato and I just had entirely different strategies and ideas when it came to how to approach the Games. The fact that people from different districts were paired, that there may be some sort of Career alliance still forming, and that one of us dying would directly harm the other, only served to create more friction between us. Enobaria, to make things worse, seemed to agree with Cato about not taking actions that would make him appear "weak" in front of the Capitol.

Because of course, that was always District 2's main concern.

After a few minutes, they appeared to reach an impasse about the bloodbath topic, and moved onto discussing general Arena strategy.

It didn't go much better.

Johanna was already impatient as-is, Enobaria was seemingly uninterested and unimpressed with me, and the two clearly didn't get along. That, coupled with the dislike between me and Cato, just meant this conference was really doomed to fail. The tension was thick in the air. Johanna tried to stress the relevance of survival skills in different environments—and I chipped in where prompted, giving additional insight about what I'd learned from training and how I could contribute—but District 2 didn't put a lot of stock in survival techniques, compared to weapon skills. Enobaria listened with cold disinterest and occasionally asked a question, while Cato was blatantly disapproving, though he mostly remained stonily silent.

After several minutes of this, Johanna's sentences were becoming increasingly choppy, her tone biting, frustration directed at everyone in the room.

She next tried to ask Cato and Enobaria questions about his weapons techniques and specialties, and I even added a few of my own, seeing how annoyed my volatile mentor was getting. But of course, both of them were remarkably reluctant to divulge useful information. It was like they still wanted to keep a lot of Cato's capabilities a secret…because they knew eventually, he'd be turning on me. But it didn't make sense, because I had already seen him training with multiple weapons. I'd seen his strength, and his score.

Things reached a boiling point after the fifth or sixth question about Cato's capabilities, where we'd been mostly stonewalled with the answers.

"It's obvious why you're withholding this information, but it's pathetic," Johanna snapped, dark eyes flashing. "Though Twiggy, maybe you should be flattered that District 2 clearly thinks you're enough of a threat to keep secrets." She was mad enough that she'd resorted back to the nicknames, something I knew Cato had noticed, and I hated every second of it.

Cato's expression oozed disdain, but Enobaria spoke before he could. "Oh, as if you aren't keeping secrets, yourself," she responded, almost sounding amused.

"I told you about all of my survival skills already, and the ways I can help in the Arena," I responded, feeling a bit nervous.

We had specifically not mentioned my knack for throwing axes. Not yet. There were a multitude of reasons, but it was mainly to keep the one thing I could do(that was useful in combat) hidden from a dangerous tribute. Well, keep it hidden as long as possible, since there was a chance that it would come up in the Arena. If it were a life-or-death situation, I obviously wouldn't keep it hidden. But right now, when Cato had made it clear he'd turn on me at the first opportunity? And furthermore, when he or Enobaria could just turn around and tell the other tributes from 2 (or any other tributes in a potential Career alliance) that the only weapon I could use was an axe? It wouldn't be wise to disclose it. Johanna and I thought it best to wait, at least until we got to a point that it was necessary.

"But that's not all, is it?" Enobaria responded coolly.

"What do you mean?" I tried not to fidget. I hadn't outright lied about anything.

"It just seems to me that none of those survival skills would have gotten you a 7. Especially since you wouldn't have been able to show more than one or two in the ten-minute scoring session." Enobaria's gaze had hardened, somewhat, and I hated the current of nervousness I felt as a result.

"What did you do in your private session?" Cato cut in then, bluntly, clearing seeing no need to dance around the topic. Usually I appreciated bluntness, but not coming from him.

"That's none of your business," I bit back immediately, instinctively. He had no right to ask about that.

Cato's jaw clenched, and he folded his arms in front of his chest. "Either Enobaria is right, or you're completely bluffing."

"Our scoring sessions are supposed to be secret," I replied.

Cato's gaze had intensified, blue eyes piercing, as he studied me. He seemed to be legitimately considering whether or not I had some sort of secret skill that I'd showed the Gamemakers.

"If you're asking her about her scoring session, then you first," Johanna stepped in, eyes darting between Cato and his mentor.

That same, unnerving smirk appeared on Enobaria's face again. "He scored a 10, and is capable of using multiple weapons. I'm sure that's all you need to know." She turned to me, observing me almost as keenly as Cato was. "So tell me…did you show the Gamemakers any capability with a weapon?"

I refused to give away my only possible advantage; but I knew my silence itself would be damning. It would answer the question for them. Unfortunately, it was difficult to formulate a reasonable answer when faced with the question directly, and I was a terrible liar. "We already told you that I have no combat or weapons training. That wasn't a lie."

It technically wasn't a lie…well, not entirely. I didn't have formal training in axe throwing, we'd all pretty much taught ourselves, with some informal guidance from my father and uncle. I could only hit stationary targets, after all, even if I could do it from different angles and distances.

"Hmm. I think there's more than what you're saying," Enobaria responded, actually looking slightly curious now.

"Think what you want," Johanna interceded, clearly deciding she didn't want me to be questioned about this anymore, but Enobaria merely shrugged lightly, as if she'd already gotten what she wanted.

Johanna folded her arms in front of her, annoyed, as Enobaria turned to Cato. "We'll have much to discuss, it seems," the feral woman said, a gleam in her eye.

I had a sneaking suspicion that what they would be "discussing" would involve how to stay alive and keep Sponsors just long enough until the rule changed and Cato could turn on me.

Cato scowled, expression still dark and menacing, seemingly fed up with this whole conference. "Then let's go," he bit out, confirming that he didn't want to be here a moment longer. We were supposed to have an hour for this conference, but we'd been here…less than thirty minutes?

I shouldn't be surprised.

Enobaria's smirk returned. "If you'd like. Unless there's anything else?" she asked, directing the question at me, as the two moved to stand up. The condescending expression on her face was reminiscent of Cato's, and the familiar anger surged. Why was everyone from District 2 so insufferable?

Johanna only grunted in response to the other Victor, but I couldn't just sit here and ignore the disrespect. "As if you'd listen or answer our questions, anyway," I responded, looking Enobaria straight in the eye. Despite my reservations, and how intimidating she was, my annoyance won out.

What a waste of time this had been. Just as I suspected.

Her smirk widened. It looked as wild as her appearance, menacing and cruel. She was standing now, alongside her tribute, and it was imposing; but I refused to flinch away. "I'm afraid that we just don't see eye-to-eye on many things." She turned to Cato. "Perhaps you two will have a more productive conversation tomorrow."

There was sarcasm in Enobaria's voice, and I realized that she had no qualms about getting under her own tribute's skin, even if she wasn't as blatantly insulting to Cato as Johanna was to me.

Cato just scoffed in response. He clearly couldn't stand our presence for another second; I felt the same way about him. Without even bothering to toss me another glare, he quickly made his way to the exit of the conference room, roughly pushing through the door as soon as it slid open. His mentor, with one final, borderline-scornful glance at Johanna and me, followed him.

Then the door slid shut behind them, leaving me with the imposing Peacekeeper, the silent Avox, and a fuming Johanna.

---

…

---

After dinner (which was tense, because we all now knew who we'd be stuck with in the Arena and had accepted the realization of how soon we'd be in the Games), Ben invited me to go up to the roof with him. I didn't even hesitate before agreeing. What else was I going to do, sulk in my room? I needed the fresh air, and this way I wouldn't have to go alone.

As Ben opened the door to the roof and the wind danced along my skin and whistled through my skin, I had the sense of déjà vu. I could only hope tonight wouldn't end on the dark note of an argument with Ben and a confrontation with Cato. Although this time, I had a sneaking suspicion the boy from 2 would try to avoid me as much as he could. We'd be spending plenty of time together soon enough…if neither of us died in the bloodbath.

Every single time the thought of the upcoming Games entered my head, my stomach would drop, and fear would lance through my body. It was almost impossible not to dwell it right now, even though I knew it wouldn't do me any good. Causing myself more stress and anxiety while my mind ran in circles would only result in more poor nights of sleep.

As Ben began to walk over to the garden we'd discovered a few nights before, I tried to distract myself by focusing on the green of the small trees and the bright bloom of flowers. Cheery splashes of color and light amidst all the death that I'd soon be immersed in.

I'd noticed Chiffon and Ruby from District 1 over in the lounge area, but fortunately I didn't see Caspian or Cato lurking around. I forced them out of my mind as we approached the garden. Dwelling on the Careers led my mind in dark directions.

This time, Ben led us over to a small set of chairs, situated on either side of a round table with a pot full of tiny pink flowers perched on top. He probably didn't want to sit on the bench from last time, given the negative memories involved. I inhaled the floral scent permeating the air—there were plenty of other flowers situated around us and even hanging from the trees—hoping it could relax me. It helped, but only a little.

I leaned back as I sat down in the nearby chair. "This was a good idea," I remarked, after several seconds of companionable silence. I glanced upwards, eyes falling on a set of tinkling wind chimes hanging from a branch above me, almost close enough for me to touch.

"I promise I won't yell at you this time," Ben said, echoing some of my thoughts from earlier. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"I promise I won't deliberately provoke you," I responded, feeling my own lips quirk upward.

It had only been a few days, but it felt like ages since we were last up here.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, then releasing it. Ben was quiet, probably just enjoying the fresh air like I was. With my eyes closed, hearing the wind chimes and smelling the flowers and trees around the garden, I could almost pretend I wasn't in the Capitol.

Almost.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Ben spoke again. My eyes opened, fixating on his face, which was twisted in contemplation.

"You know, I was going to sit here and talk about how awful my conference was. I would have told you how annoyed I got, and how obnoxious Caspian is. I would've said that I have no idea how I'll survive spending day and night with him in the freaking Hunger Games." Ben's green eyes fixated on me as he paused for a second or two before continuing, "But you know what? This is nice up here. And I'm not going to ruin the moment by talking about that asshole. Or the Games."

I sighed heavily, meeting his gaze evenly. "I agree. And I won't ruin the moment by talking about how Cato disregards everything I say, how his mentor is just as awful as he is, how they think every survival skill is practically useless, or how they left less than halfway into the conference. At this point, it's not even worth discussing. Just a waste of breath."

Ben's lips pulled downward as he processed what I said, but he didn't look surprised. And, much like I hadn't asked him to elaborate on his conference, he didn't ask me to elaborate further on mine. Like he said, we weren't going to get into it.

We were just going to spend this time enjoying one of the only semi-peaceful evenings we had left before one or both of us was killed. I closed my eyes again, and another comfortable silence fell over the two of us.

After a while, I heard a couple of other tributes approaching. Neither Ben nor I wanted to try to socialize with other tributes here in the garden, so we (reluctantly) departed, heading back towards the dome-shamed room and the elevators. I wanted to stay up here longer, but I shouldn't be surprised that we weren't the only tributes who enjoyed the garden area.

When I eventually climbed in bed later, pulling the sheets up to my chin, I tried my hardest not to linger on the events of the day. My brain had run in circles enough times to be exhausted. The rule announced earlier had thrown a wrench in everything. It made Cato hate me more, but it certainly had the advantage of hopefully ensuring he couldn't kill me as soon as the Arena started. That was something, right?

The sounds of the Capitol-created ocean simulation, and my memory of the garden wind chimes, lulled me into sleep.

---

…

---

Once again, as I stood in the elevator taking us down to the basement of the Training Center, I had to fight the urge to chew on my nails nervously. I settled for fiddling with the ring, the familiarity of the nervous habit sadly not helping as much as I'd hoped.

Today was the last training day of the Games, the sole day allowed for duo training. The thought of spending the day with Cato was nerve-wracking.

Although, honestly, I fully anticipated him to ditch me at the first chance possible. I wasn't sure how much the Capitol would be "enforcing" the idea of duo training. After all, at the end of the day, the Gamemakers probably wanted some of us to turn on each other. I doubt they'd actually coerce all the tributes to train with their partners. Most tributes would, of course, because it was the smart thing to do.

Not Cato, though, I suspected.

When we arrived in the gymnasium, all of the tributes were gathered around the head trainer Atala again. This time, everyone was standing with their partner. I groaned inwardly, seeing that Cato was already here. He stood with his massive arms folded, looking imposing and unimpressed.

Ben and I exchanged a wordless, mutually sympathetic glance before breaking off to go join our separate partners. I wasn't sure who was worse, Cato or Caspian. I braced myself for unpleasantness as I walked over to the boy from 2, dread making my steps feel heavy.

Cato's gaze remained fixed on Atala as I stepped up beside him, as far away as I could get without drawing the Gamemakers' eyes. They knew I hated Cato, no doubt, but I didn't think outright public hostility would be a good look.

He didn't acknowledge me. Didn't turn to look at me, didn't speak. I should be insulted, but at this point, I was more grateful than anything.

Atala began to speak, confirming my suspicions from earlier: she "strongly recommended" that we train with our partners today, as it was the only day we'd be training after finding out who we were paired with. However, a strong recommendation wasn't the same thing as a requirement. In other words, they wouldn't demand that we train with our partner. I knew that Cato probably picked up on that fact and took it to heart.

He turned to me as soon as Atala dismissed us. Apparently, he wasn't going to completely stonewall me.

"Don't follow me," he said coldly, dislike clear on his face, keeping his voice relatively low.

I raised an eyebrow. "What made you think I was planning to?"

Cato's expression darkened, and he glanced over his shoulder. Most of the rest of the Careers were making their way over to the weapon stations already, while other non-Career tributes loitered around hesitantly, unsure where to go.

"If you expected me to help teach you how to use weapons, you were sorely mistaken," he stated, after turning back to me.

"Why would I expect that, when you haven't even been civil for five seconds?" I responded, making my tone as cold as his.

Cato's eyes narrowed. "Says the girl who threw wine all over someone at a public event."

My irritation flared, but I tried to quell it. I couldn't make a scene here. "Whatever. I'm going to head over to the survival stations. I don't care if you think survival skills are pointless."

"Just stay as far away from me as possible. If the others see how useless you are at the weapons stations, it'll make you more of a target from the beginning. Someone might take you out to get to me."

I let my eyes trail over to the Careers gathering at the weapons stations again. I didn't fully agree with Cato's statement, since I wasn't useless with all weapons, but I did see the underlying point. I wasn't going to let anyone see my competency when it came to throwing an axe, and I was untrained with pretty much every other weapon. I had practiced the throwing knives some, but I hadn't been good at it, especially by Career standards. No doubt some of them might keep more of an eye on me today, since I was paired with Cato. Demonstrating a lack of competency with any sort of weapon wouldn't help me in the Arena in any way. They wouldn't ignore or overlook me, not with who my partner was.

"Fine," I responded coolly. "Not like you could teach me anything useful in only a day, anyway."

I wasn't even sure that was entirely true—maybe a day of hands-on training from someone like Cato might actually help—but I would never admit that out loud. And even if he were a cooperative partner and taught me everything he knew, I'd never measure up to a Career with only one day of training. Plus, the others would see everything we were up to.

Cato's expression morphed into something closer to a glare, but he clearly had no desire to continue the biting discussion. With something akin to a scoff, he turned around and stalked away without another word.

So, my suspicions were confirmed. We would not be training together. The tiny survivalist part of me recognized that it was unfortunate that my partner wasn't cooperating, but I wasn't surprised. What was Cato going to do, join me at the survival skills stations?

And if he weren't such a high-profile tribute, maybe I'd be safer trying to practice more weapons or learning the basics of hand-to-hand combat. Unfortunately, I just couldn't afford to draw that much attention if I wasn't pulling off something impressive. Looking weak would not help me or Cato.

I glanced around the gymnasium with a heavy sigh. I might as well take this opportunity to practice more survival skills. It was another day of training, and I shouldn't waste it.

Feeling resolve wash over me, I decided to make my way over to the fishing station. I had never been fishing before, and I didn't have the first clue how to do it. I remembered watching a lot of tributes over the years sustain themselves on fish – hell, even the Girl on Fire last year caught and ate one raw.

I wasn't alone at the station; the girl from 4 who had been Reaped and her partner, the young sly boy from 8, had just arrived. As the trainer introduced himself and began to instruct us on the basics of catching or killing fish with a net or a weapon, it became obvious that the girl from 4 was familiar with all of this already. She had probably chosen this station because it was recognizable and comforting to her, and to teach her partner.

Must be nice to have a partner that's on board with your plans, I thought bitterly, then forced myself to tune in as the trainer continued to instruct us.

Of course, we may not always have a weapon on hand to spear a fish, or the materials to craft a net sturdy enough to catch them. So next, the trainer moved on to instruct us about fishing line and fishhooks. I was surprised to learn just how many types of items could be used to make a straightforward hook.

I was even more pleasantly surprised to realize I was pretty adept at making the simple ones, at least if I had the materials to do so—and some of the more basic hooks could be made using bark or thorns. At least the fact that I had deft fingers was coming in handy, I thought. By the end of the lesson, I was pretty confident that I'd be able to catch some fish in the Arena, one way or another.

Feeling somewhat-content that I'd at least made something of my day, I scanned the gymnasium quickly, to see what the other tributes were up to.

Unfortunately, watching the others just killed my temporary contentment.

Cato was at one of the simulated tunnels again. However, this time he was using some sort of spiked, mace-like weapon to strike at the enemies rushing him. Judging by the way he was bludgeoning the simulated figures and shattering them into pieces, he was proficient with it. It was clear he was more than comfortable using blunt style weapons, not just swords. I should be excited by the prospect—the fact that he had a wide range of weapons capabilities worked in my favor, at least right now—but it was more unnerving than anything

A lot of the other Careers were either at the knives, spears, swords, or archery stations, hacking at dummies or impaling targets the way they'd probably practiced all of their lives. My eyes were drawn, however, to the hand-to-hand combat station. Both Ben and Caspian were there. I supposed it was better for Ben that he was at least getting practice in with his partner.

Caspian was currently sparring with the trainer, who was wearing the padded gear I'd noticed to absorb blows from the tribute. It appeared that the trainers at the station weren't set on striking the tributes, instead trying to immobilize, unbalance or knock them to the mat. The Capitol wouldn't want a tribute to show up on camera with a welt on their face before the Games, after all. And it also allowed the tributes to go all-out without worrying about the trainer getting injured.

To my disgust, Caspian appeared quite adept at hand-to-hand combat. He was clearly getting the upper hand against the trainer there. Ben observed the sparring from nearby, arms folded across his chest. I couldn't read his expression from this distance.

Okay, that's enough of that, I thought to myself. I didn't want to know what the other tributes were up to if it was going to totally psych me out.

I swiveled my head back to the survival stations, scanning them. Were there any I hadn't tried? If I had the time, I might as well make sure I at least visited every station once before the Games. After a moment of looking around, I was pretty sure the only stations I had left to visit were the camouflage station and the hammock making station. With a sigh, I made my way over to the former, since it was currently-empty. Peeta Mellark had managed to use camouflage skills last year to make himself basically invisible; might as well see if I could pick up a trick or two while I was here.

---

…

---

As I entered the cafeteria once lunchtime arrived, I wasn't nearly as content as I'd been after the fishing station.

It had become clear to me that Peeta Mellark was some sort of camouflage savant, because despite my time at the station, I had achieved nothing even close to what he'd been able to pull off during the Games last year. I had learned some basics, of course, figuring out how to use a combination of mud and the various liquids at the station to try to disguise my skin. The trainer had me practice with leaves and branches and different types of plants, as well. It was better than nothing. I just wouldn't be able to create anything intricate.

After piling my plate with sufficient protein, cheese, and bread, I glanced around the cafeteria. The atmosphere today just felt…awkward. A few people were sitting with district mates, though not many. Others sat with their partners. And some sat alone, or on opposite ends of the same table, not speaking with each other.

Most of the Careers, of course, still sat together. A lot of them were partnered, and others probably didn't want to associate with their partners. From my cursory inspection, it looked like Marlin, the darker-haired tribute from 4, was sitting at a different table with his partner, the bulky man from District 10. Onyx and Cassia from 1 and 2 sat nearby the other Careers, though didn't appear to be involved in the main conversation. Tatiana was nowhere to be found.

I sensed eyes on me, and I realized Cato had noticed me scanning their table and was glaring at me. Although I felt the familiar nerves bunching in my stomach, I looked away, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes. As if I'd ever have the desire to sit there, with him.

I fully planned on sitting alone today—it was probably better that way—but of course, Ben (who had been just behind me in getting food, apparently) immediately approached me and asked to sit together.

Right now, he probably understood my unpleasant situation better than anyone, I thought. His partner was also at the Career table, thankfully not paying us any mind at the moment. Plus, Ben was definitely the person I was most comfortable around, so I joined him.

"So how's your day going?" I asked him sardonically, after taking a few bites of an extra buttery roll.

"About how you'd expect," he responded dryly, keeping his voice low. The Careers were far enough away and boisterous enough, fortunately, that there was zero chance they'd overhear anyway. "Yours?"

I scoffed. "Survival stations for me, all day. My lovely partner refuses to be anywhere near me."

"And is that a bad thing?" Ben raised an eyebrow.

"Definitely not. I'm sure if I trained with him, he'd just insult me the entire time."

"Mine isn't much better, though I guess I've learned a thing or two today." Ben said, then frowned slightly. "Although, when we're training, he keeps the commentary to a minimum. When he focuses he almost becomes a different person."

"It can only be an improvement," I retorted sarcastically.

That got a smile out of him. "You're right about that."

Ribbing on our unpleasant Arena partners—as subtly as possible, and out of earshot, of course—was helping me feel a bit better. I kept my eyes away from the other tributes as much as possible, focusing on the light-hearted banter with Ben. By the time we wrapped up lunch and returned to the gymnasium, I felt like my motivation had returned.

First, I visited the hammock station. When I first spotted it in the gymnasium, I had immediately put it at the bottom of my list of survival stations to visit. I just didn't really see the point. I had worked at the knot-tying station nearby, and the hammock-making station was basically an extension of that; except, instead of teaching me how to trap tributes, it seemed to exist purely for the purpose of creating something out of rope, twine, or cord that would only be used for sleeping. If I had rope, I'd probably be sleeping tied to a tree. Katniss Everdeen had gotten that right. Still, it was the last survival station, and it was (unsurprisingly) empty, so I spent some time there.

I managed to make an acceptable one, but it took forever, and the trainer hadn't really convinced me that this knowledge would come in that useful.

Afterwards, I just decided to revisit knot-tying. It was right nearby, and it could actually come in useful. I could supplement what I'd learned on my previous attempt at the station. There were a couple of tributes already at the station, and I quietly joined the pair to observe the demonstration.

After over an hour there, I stretched my fingers. They were beginning to cramp after working on hammocks and knots. The trainer had remembered me, and we'd repeated the previous knots I'd learned, mainly consisting of a net and then a rope-trap. I was able to re-create them in less time than my previous visit, but it was still a time-consuming task.

The last survival station I decided to revisit was the shelter station. I had spent less than an hour here before, and only learned the basics. Surely, it couldn't hurt to practice some more.

Basil and her partner joined me at the shelter station a few minutes after I arrived. I'd interacted with the older tribute from District 3 before, who had a very motherly aspect to her, and I found Basil easy to be around. I was relieved that neither of the women brought up anything relating to the tribute pairings, the incident with the wine, or our interviews. If only my own partner could be so pleasant in social settings.

After my stint with the throwing knives, where Basil had outperformed me, I was pleased to see that I was better at putting together a quick shelter than she was. I glanced down at my handiwork. It was sturdier than my previous attempts at the station. The frame didn't look like it would collapse at any second.

Then again, if I got complacent, the Gamemakers would probably just summon a monsoon.

Still, an improvement was an improvement. The trainer gave me a nod of approval, and the woman from 3 warmly praised me, much as she'd praised the young boy from her own district the last time I'd been around her. Basil threw me a knowing look, probably remembering that the last time we'd shared a station together, I had struggled a lot more.

Upon leaving the shelter station, I noted that I only had about thirty minutes left before it would be time to head back upstairs. Only this time, I already had my next destination planned out. And I was much more excited about it.

A small smile pulling at my lips, I made my way over to the climbing wall, a fitting way to end the day.

---

…

---

At dinner, Johanna was entirely unsurprised that Cato had refused to train with me. He'd stormed out of the conference early, after all. I doubted either of us had expected anything less.

Minodora, however, seemed to take it as an affront. She spent half the dinner complaining about how that probably looked to the Gamemakers, and how that could reflect on her in turn, and even implicitly seemed to blame me a few times. As if I could have convinced Cato to work with me. As if I wanted to. But she really wouldn't shut up about it.

Fortunately, Johanna got annoyed with Minodora's constant stream of blathering and complaining, and quieted the escort by threatening to stab her in the eye with a utensil if she didn't shut up.

I hadn't been successful in fully hiding my smirk when the chatter ceased.

After dinner, like we had done on the previous training days, each of us had a separate, private mentoring session that lasted over an hour. This time, I was up first.

Johanna and I went over what I'd done for the day, the stations I'd visited, how I'd performed, and what I'd observed from the other tributes. Afterwards, we focused on a game plan for the following day, which consisted of both the Sponsor Luncheon and the duo interview. It would be our busiest day so far, and since the luncheon started at eleven-o-clock in the early afternoon, I wouldn't have a second to spare. So, I received an extensive lesson about how I was to behave. I was expected to dance with Sponsors when they asked, and there was no room for argument. I didn't bother to hold back the scowl, but Johanna completely ignored it.

Most of all I was, under no circumstances, to drink any alcohol. Not that I planned to, anyway.

By the time I was released and Johanna moved on to assist Ben, I was again craving some fresh air. I spent the entirety of Ben's session standing on the balcony, sipping the tea I'd had practically every night, trying and failing to push all thoughts of the Games out of my head.

When Johanna finally released him, we made our way to the roof, our newest form of therapy.

As we settled in the garden again—the roof was mercifully free of Careers tonight, and there were only a couple of other tributes sitting in the lounge—I once more closed my eyes, trying to let the wind chimes and scents of the garden relax me.

A couple minutes after we arrived, I was struck with the realization that after tonight, I'd only have one more chance to come up here.

---

…

---

Despite the tea's assistance and the fresh air, it still took me a while to fall asleep. The anxiety was back in full force.

As I lay in the silken sheets of this luxurious bed that I didn't belong in, I was forced to face the same realization from the garden. This was my penultimate night in the Capitol. Tomorrow would be the luncheon and the partner interviews. The following day, I'd go into the Arena.

The thought made me go cold with pure dread. I was sick to my stomach. In forty-eight hours, I would be sleeping in the Arena.

If I were even still alive, that is.

It was entirely possible that, by then, my body would have been pulled up in a hovercraft. The Capitol could be cleaning up my corpse. They'd be getting ready to ship it back in a box to my family, so that they could bury me in District 7. Next to my mother.

My eyes burned, tears pricking at the corners, followed by a rush of anger.

No. I refuse to think like that, I angrily reprimanded myself. I was aware of my awful odds, but I had resolved to still fight as hard as I could. My family deserved better than for me to wallow in self-pity. I'd already had my breakdown, the first night on the train. I had promised myself not to have another. I gripped the sheets tightly, my hands balling into fists.

Despite my resolution not to cry, and my success in holding the tears back, I still felt the frustration and despair rushing over me in waves. Even the various scenes on the giant screen in my room—including the ocean—didn't help.

The television in my room didn't help much, either. The first couple of programs that I saw were depicting odds for the games, or replaying scenes from the events of the past week. That only made my anxiety increase tenfold.

After desperately flicking through a couple of channels, I hesitated when the faces of Katniss Everdeen and her fiancé, Peeta Mellark, appeared on screen. Apparently, they'd been interviewed earlier tonight about their upcoming wedding. The Girl of Fire was tense, and I doubted she wanted to be there at all. Her cousin was about to go into the Arena. Watching the recap, I found out that they'd postponed the wedding for a few months to account for the fact that one of Katniss' family members was going into the Games.

I'd always wondered how much of a publicity stunt the marriage proposal was. It seemed like something that could be done to entertain the Capitol, who absolutely adored the couple. Judging by the way Peeta looked at his fiancé, it was pretty obvious he really cared for her, loved her even. The Girl on Fire was harder to read, and always had been. Now that I knew what it was like to be under the spotlight, though, I couldn't blame her for sometimes coming across cold and stiff. And she'd truly seemed obsessive about taking care of Peeta and protecting him when they were in the Arena.

Still, despite the apparent sincerity of their relationship, the proposal had been awfully convenient. Especially with how young they were. I knew that President Snow probably saw the suicide pact with the berries as an act of rebellion as much as it was a declaration of love, but it seemed like the Capitol really focused on the romance aspect of it. Maybe the marriage was meant to distract the adoring crowds—and Snow—from any possible ulterior motives the two had, in the moment they were about to eat the nightlock.

But what did I know? I was an eighteen…nineteen-year-old girl who had spent her entire life in District 7. I'd never been in love with a boy. I'd only had one boyfriend, and even then, it was only for a few months, a couple of years ago. It had been my first foray into the dating realm. I'd been too scared to even let him see me naked, let alone to fall in love with him. Who was I to comment on the star-crossed lovers from District 12 and their plan to spend the rest of their life together?

The one advantage of the interview program, which then moved to show highlights of various public appearances made by The Girl on Fire and the Baker Boy from District 12, was that it distracted me. At least slightly. It was better than watching projections of my upcoming doom.

Eventually, I felt my eyes start to close, helped along by the herbal tea I'd finished earlier.

My final thought before falling into a restless sleep was that I probably wouldn't even be alive for their wedding.

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A/N: Next chapter will be June's last day in the Capitol! Sorry for any typos; it's late.

I hope you like the additional rule I added ;) Honestly, it is meant to encourage the Cato & Juniper dynamic (obviously), but I intended it to fit with the ulterior motives of the Capitol/Snow. Rest assured, it'll come into play a whole lot during the Arena.

Also, I know in Katniss' Games, she wasn't even really sure if tributes were supposed to be on the roof. My headcanon is that the Capitol saw how much time she and Peeta spent there, and decided to lean into it – to develop the roof into more of a place for socialization. With even more surveillance, of course. That's why June and Ben often see other tributes up there. Just a random thing I wanted to point out in case it seemed canon noncompliant.

Thanks so much for the additional follows/favorites and review!