Shopping with Glimmer, Clove thinks, is just about on-par with Theseus entering the Labyrinth. She never knows what to expect, what's waiting for her around every turn. Will Glimmer want smoothies next? Or will she want to check out the cell phone case kiosk? It's a mystery (and an adventure) every time. Usually Clove just goes along for the ride.

Dress shopping, though, that's a whole different ballgame. They've been at the same store for two hours now, and at this point, Clove can't resist texting Cato.

your gf is crazy

The response is almost instantaneous.

I like crazy

Clove rolls her eyes.

clearly

"Hey, Clo?" Glimmer calls, poking her head up over a clothing rack. "I think I found some that you'll like."

Clove slips her phone back into her pocket and makes her way over to where Glimmer is waiting. Her friend is holding about four different dresses in her hands, and Clove raises an eyebrow. "Those are nice."

"Right?" says Glimmer. "I totally think the darker colors are more you. So there are these maroon ones, this black one, and this blue one. Try them on!"

Clove silently thanks her quick reflexes when the dresses are tossed at her and she manages to catch them all. Already, Glimmer has her hands full with three more dresses for herself to try on. Clove follows her to the fitting rooms and selects the stall next to Glimmer's.

She starts with the black dress, sleeveless and fitted at the top, flaring out at the waist until the hem reaches just above her knees. She wrinkles her nose at the ill fit; the dress is clearly designed for someone taller and bustier. Someone like, well, Glimmer. Still, she steps out of the stall and meets Glimmer at the mirror. "I don't think I like this one," she says.

Glimmer looks at her in the reflection and frowns. She, of course, looks stunning in an airy pink number. "Yeah, too dark with your hair."

Clove doesn't really consider herself an insecure person, not really. But standing next to Glimmer, she can sometimes feel so... inferior. And that's probably bad, as Glimmer is her best friend, but she can't help that little pang of envy for Glimmer's naturally sunkissed skin, long legs, shimmering blonde hair, and perfect curves. It's no wonder Cato likes her.

She tries not to let it get to her though, and only shrugs. "Yeah. I'll try on the others, maybe they'll look better."

"Oh! Save the blue one for last," calls Glimmer. "That one's my favorite."

She doesn't hate the maroon ones as much. The first is tightly fitted and appears to wrap around her body, giving the illusion of slight curves, which Clove likes. The second is a similar style to the black one she tried, but fits better at the top. Still, she isn't sold on either of them. She wore red last year, and doesn't necessarily want a repeat.

She tries on the blue one last, per Glimmer's request. Her friend is already waiting for her at the mirror, wearing another dress that Clove would file somewhere between "pink" and "champagne."

When Glimmer turns to Clove, her jaw drops.

"Oh my god, you're so hot."

Clove rolls her eyes and strikes an exaggerated pose before joining Glimmer at the mirror. "I do like this one," she admits, and she means it.

The dress is another tight fit, made of dark blue velvet that almost appears black, until the light catches it. The spaghetti straps and lace-up back show enough skin without being too revealing, and the hem ends just at mid-thigh. It's sexy without being promiscuous, and Clove loves it.

"That's totally you, Clo," says Glimmer. "Like, it's simple in a way, but so pretty. And hot. You're going to have boys all over you if you buy that thing."

"My mission in life," Clove quips with a smile, and Glimmer waves a hand dismissively.

"Just look at us," she says. "Ugh, I can totally see it now. We're going to be those hot seniors that people can't take their eyes off of. I love it!"

Clove laughs. "Okay, yeah, we look good. Should we buy them?"

"Um, yes."

"And then we can go back to your house and binge Brooklyn 99?"

Glimmer clucks her tongue. "Silly Clove, we still have to buy shoes!"

"Oh my god."

Clove likes being at Glimmer's house. It's big, but still homey and comfortable. She especially likes being there when the rest of the group is, too. Everything feels like it's okay when she's with her three best friends, and she wouldn't trade it for the world. Like right now, camped out on the floor in Glimmer's finished basement, with various snacks and candy laid out as they watch old movies and talk about school.

"I honestly never understood what possessed them to cast Judd Nelson as a high schooler," complains Marvel around a mouthful of popcorn. "Like, John Bender literally looks like he could be thirty years old."

"I mean, he is the criminal," says Clove. "Maybe it was like, intentional? He's probably been held back a lot."

"No way," says Cato. "They weren't thinking of technicalities like that. They just didn't know how to cast."

"Okay, this movie is almost thirty-five years old. Who cares?" groans Glimmer from where she leans against Cato. "Can we please just enjoy this without analyzing every little detail?"

"You're no fun," teases Cato, tightening his arm around her. Clove looks to Marvel, who silently fake-vomits, and snorts.

"How's gymnastics been going, anyway, Clove?" asks Cato, and Clove shrugs.

"Not bad. My bars routine is almost perfect, which is the one I've been having the most trouble with."

"Yeah, it's because she's so tiny," snickers Marvel. "Can't even reach the bars."

Clove throws a pillow at him.

"Are you sure you can't sleep over tonight?" asks Glimmer with a pout.

Clove shakes her head. "You know why I can't, Glim."

"Oh, I know. Give me a hug, anyway."

Clove complies, thanking Glimmer for taking her out shopping, before meeting Cato at the large front door. "Ready?" he asks, and she nods as they head out into the warm September night. She climbs into the passenger seat of his old truck and he joins her, starting the engine and backing out of Glimmer's driveway.

"Thanks again for the ride," says Clove. She always feels bad leeching off of her friends for rides. She has her license, but no car to use it with, so she's stuck asking other people to drive her to and fro.

"You know you don't need to thank me," says Cato. "You're my best friend and we literally live on the same street. I'd be kind of a piece of shit if I didn't drive you home."

"You're a piece of shit, anyway."

"Fair enough."

The ride continues in silence for a few more moments, the only sound being some god-awful country song coming softly from Cato's radio. They're stopped at a red light when he suddenly speaks up. "So, is your dad... you know."

Clove sighs, rubbing her forehead with her hand and staring out the window. "Yeah," she says. "Came home the other day to bottles everywhere. He's not even trying to hide it anymore."

"Clove—"

"It's fine, Cato," she says, noticing the way his hands tighten on the steering wheel. "You know he doesn't do anything to me. Just sleeps. I'm more worried about the fact that he hasn't been going to work. We barely have enough money to keep me at Panem; at this point I don't even know if I'll be able to go to col—"

"You're going to college, Clove," says Cato adamantly. She avoids his gaze. "You're the smartest person I know, okay? They've got all of that financial aid shit that can help you out. There are ways."

She takes a deep breath, hating herself for the fact that she can feel tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She's Clove Kentwell. She doesn't cry. Screw college and screw deadbeat dads.

"I know," she says. "I'll be fine."

Cato sighs. "I know you will be," he says. "I just can't help but worry." And then he places a large hand on her knee, an act of comfort, and Clove is taken aback by the way her stomach flips and her heart beats out of rhythm at the contact. "Just remember that you can talk to me about anything, okay?" he says.

Clove finally looks up, right into his blue eyes, and swallows nervously. "Yeah," she says, her voice clipped.

And then the light turns green, and the moment is gone.

Here, have some Clato! Revel in the angst! Poor Clove is starting to catch all kinds of feelings. Even more on that in the next chapter. Actually, as of right now the next chapter is the last one under 2,000 words, because the story really picks up after that one. Chapters 5 and 6 are well over 2,000 words, so that's super fun! Hopefully I can keep up that momentum :)

Anyway, the only good thing about sick days is that I've got lots of time to write. The sick part, not so good. Oh, well. Hope you guys liked this chapter, now that the drama's starting. The story's really kicking off now, and I can't wait for you guys to read more! See you next time!

P.S. To address a guest review I received a couple of chapters ago—this story will be Clato, but will not be Glarvel. I personally don't ship Glarvel all that much, and I've got some pretty big plans for Miss Glimmer, anyway. You'll just have to wait and see ;)