A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading! Please review and let me know your predictions for the upcoming chapters!
Chapter 5 – Juliet
Kit moved her breakfast around on her plate, looking sick to her stomach. I had been watching her all morning, unsure what to say to comfort my little sister. No one could be comforted on Reaping Day.
I couldn't tell her that she'd be okay, because that wasn't something I could promise. I just hoped that I had pleased President Snow enough that he wouldn't rig the Reaping to put Kit in the Games. The thought made my stomach turn unpleasantly.
My entire family sat in silence. No one had really touched their breakfast, but that wasn't uncommon on a day like today. I wondered if everyone was remembering this exact morning last year, when all of our lives had changed as soon as my name was called out.
Kit, now fourteen, had an even greater chance of being picked this year. Although the thought made me nervous, it was worse knowing that if President Snow wanted her in the Games, there was no amount of luck that could stop that from happening.
"Did you hear? Another Peacekeeper was killed a few nights ago. Rumors are that he was a Rebel." My father attempted small talk, lowering his voice when he mentioned the Rebels. My mother made a noise of agreement, but no one bothered to continue the conversation.
After another agonizingly quiet minute, I pushed myself away from the table, my chair made a loud screeching noise. My parents and Kit turned to look at me, solemn expressions on their faces.
"We should get going." I offered Kit a smile, but I knew that it looked force. The small blonde nodded in agreement, delicately rising from the table and smoothing out her pale-yellow dress. I looked down at my own, feeling slightly self-conscious. The simple black dress had arrived in the mail a few days ago, and I knew that I didn't have much of a choice in the matter.
I felt like I was attending a funeral. In a twisted way, I was.
I hugged my parents tightly. I would be off to the Capitol today as a Mentor, and I had no idea when I would be able to see them again.
"We'll meet you there, Kit." My mom reassured the fourteen-year-old, fixing my sister's mess of golden curls. Kit nodded in response, staying silent. I hadn't heard her speak a word all morning, and it was saddening to see the usually chatty girl so serious.
After another round of hugs, we set off toward the town. I was half-expecting to see Luke leaving his own house, but I knew he was probably already in town at his family's house. His younger brother was only a year older than Kit, and I knew he was probably thinking the same thing as me. Had we done enough to protect our families?
As we got closer to the Town Center, more children were emerging from their homes. I felt uncomfortable under the weight of the stares, as if I had done something wrong by surviving. Kit's small hand slipped into mine, giving it a squeeze. My mind flashed back to a year ago, when we had walked hand in hand to the Reaping with no idea what was ahead of us.
Physically, Kit had done a lot of growing up since then, almost catching up to me in height. Her baby face had thinned out, her hair was even blonder, but the biggest change was the darker look haunting her blue eyes. I had been so wrapped up in my own life the past few months that I never thought about how my own family was handling things. Although she looked older in appearance, she had already aged way past her years.
"You'll be fine, Juliet." She spoke, giving me a tiny smile. A hysterical giggle escaped my mouth, and she looked at me like I was crazy.
I shook my head. "I'm supposed to be the one comforting you, Kit. Not the other way around."
Her smile widened for a split second, but quickly fell when we reached the Town Center.
"I'll see you after the Games, okay?" I dropped her hand, unwilling to say goodbye. She took a deep breath and gave me one final hug, squeezing a little harder than usual. I watched as she got in line to check in, curls bouncing as she was surrounded by her friends.
I walked around the outside of the crowd, spotting Luke standing by the side of the stage. He was staring out into the crowd, a glazed look over his face. I nudged my shoulder against his, snapping him out of whatever daze he was in.
"Hey, Juliet." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, but I appreciated the effort. "Are you ready?"
"No," I answered honestly. "But I have to be."
Before he could answer, a screeching noise from the microphone drew everyone's attention as Hilda stepped onto the stage. This year, she was decked out head to toe in purple. I couldn't help but grin slightly as I remembered her orange costume last year. We were ushered onto the stage and placed into chairs off to the side.
A year ago, Luke had sat up hear next to Barrick, looking stone-cold. This year, I had taken Barrick's chair as one of this year's mentors. I felt a strong urge to grab Luke's hand, but I kept my expression cool for the cameras. His birthday had been last month, and he was finally past the age of the Reaping. If he hadn't been reaped already, he still wouldn't have been able to volunteer for his brother. I knew that he was feeling the same way as me – helpless to keep our siblings out of President Snow's grasp.
Hilda announced that she was picking the male tribute first, and I couldn't help but glance over at Luke. His eyes were narrowed in on the fifteen-year-old section, probably searching for his brother in the crowd. His fingers gripped tightly on the side of the chair, the same expression on his face as last year's Reaping.
"Garth Whittaker!"
There were a few cries from the crowd as a tanned, dark haired boy stepped out from the fourteen-year-old section. Luke's hands relaxed slightly now that his brother was safe for another year, but seeing another young boy sent off to his death was enough to keep a sick expression on his face.
I kept my gaze straight ahead and chin held high as Hilda made her way over to the females' bowl, but I could see Luke glancing at me out of the corner of my eye. I tried to spot Kit's blonde curls in the crowd, but there were too many girls packed tightly in her section.
Hilda cleared her throat, pulling a slip out from the bowl.
"Ardice Shay, our female tribute for the 74th Hunger Games!"
I let out the breath I was holding. I was relieved that Kit was safe another year, but my own happiness made me sick to my stomach as the girl stepped up onto the stage. She looked angry, the expression looking unusual on her young face. She was also only fourteen, with bright red hair that stood out against her pale face. I didn't recognize her as one of Kit's classmates, so I assumed she must have been from the factory section of the district rather than the fields.
I wished that I could return home and forget about the two young tributes, but I didn't have that option. Besides, the female tribute needed a mentor, and I needed to do whatever it took to bring her home.
The train was exactly as I remembered. The inside was fancier than my old house, with luscious furniture, a large screen ready to broadcast the Reapings, and a large feast set out on the table.
Luke and I sat silently on the couch as Hilda ushered our tributes inside the train car. The two of them, although similar in height, were complete opposites. Garth's terrified expression plagued his tanned face as he looked around the train in awe. Ardice took on a much different emotion- red, hot fury. When I had first been reaped, I was angry, but mostly terrified for my fate. It seemed that the fear hadn't hit her yet, her features instead twisted into an obvious scowl with fire dancing in her eyes. I wasn't sure if her anger would be a positive or a negative, but I knew it would be difficult to get through to her.
"Why doesn't everyone grab something to eat? The Reapings will be on in a few hours, so you two have plenty of time to get to know your mentors!" Hila clapped her hands excitedly, ushering Garth and Ardice over to the table. Their eyes widened as they took in the array of food before them. The boy reached down excitedly to grab at a piece of bread, only to be scolded by Hilda for his manners. He shrugged, sitting down like she instructed. Ardice remained standing with her arms crossed, glaring at the food as if it was offending her.
Once Hilda left us to discuss with her tributes, Luke and I shared a look before settling down next to Garth at the table. Ardice made no move to join us, instead shifting her glare from the food back to us.
Luke cleared his throat. "I know this is less than ideal, but we're going to get you through this. We just need your cooperation and trust." He rubbed the palm of his hand against his face, looking a bit stressed. I winced slightly as he tried to sugar coat the situation, and I wondered if it was more for his benefit than the tributes.
Garth nodded energetically, but the scoff that came out of Ardice's mouth showed that she agreed with me.
"This is way less than ideal. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that we're going to die." The words came out harsh, but I didn't blame her. The dark-haired tribute beside me looked down at his hands, looking like he was holding back tears.
"We're going to do our best to prevent that. I know the odds seem low, but we can figure out a good strategy for you guys." Luke responded calmly. I didn't trust myself to intervene.
She shook her head roughly. The red- head grabbed a piece of bread before stalking away from the table and toward the sleeping area, slamming the sliding door behind her. Luke sighed, but made no move to follow her.
Garth looked up slowly. His face was red and blotchy, but his eyes were determined. "Train me. I'm ready." He held Luke's gaze. Luke nodded, a ghost of a smile on his face.
I was hoping Luke and I would be able to train our tributes together, but I supposed it was selfish thinking. I had won my games mostly out of luck. There wasn't much I could teach Ardice besides the mantra I told myself over and over again: kill, or be killed. Regardless, I owed it to her to try. Luke nodded as I stood up from the table, giving me the confidence I needed to follow Ardice through the sliding door.
It wasn't difficult to figure out where she had gone – there were only a few rooms lining the hallway, and I had stayed in the exact room the year before. I stared blankly at the closed door for a few moments, lost in my own memories. I could almost hear Atlas' maniacal laugh and see the creepy smirk plastered on his face as he stepped closer to me. Those memories quickly transformed into the blurry ones where he held me against the tree in the arena, and I shook my head roughly to break the movie reel playing in my head. There was no time for me to spiral back down that road.
I knocked lightly but received no response. I rapped my knuckles against the metal door slightly harder, this time earning a muffled 'go away'.
Sighing, I carefully slid the door open to find her face down on the plush comforter. She pushed herself upright as I entered. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red, but the flames of fury still danced in her eyes.
"Stop trying to help me." She pleaded, clutching a fluffy pillow to her chest. "Just leave me alone."
I sat down at the edge of her bed, careful to keep some distance between us. She was like a caged animal, backed into the corner of the bed. I knew the feeling.
"I can't do that." I sighed. I was hoping the right words would come to me, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. After a moment of silence, I tried again. "You can't give up. You have to try."
She shook her head roughly. "I'm not killing anybody. I'm not a murderer. Like you."
I visibly flinched at her words. She wasn't wrong.
"Fine." I snapped, standing up quickly. This certainly hadn't gone as I planned, but she clearly didn't want my help.
When I returned back to the dining car, Garth was already gone. Luke laid back on the couch, a hand covering his eyes. He looked up when I walked in, sitting up slightly to make room for me.
"How did it go?" He questioned with hopeful eyes.
"Horribly." I frowned, sitting down next to him on the couch. I leaned into him slightly. It wasn't until now that I realized how tense I had been the entire day. "She called me a murderer."
Luke let out a humorless laugh. "Well, she's got balls, that's for sure."
Before I could say anything else, the door on the other side of the car slid open. Luke and I sat up straighter, both expecting Hilda to emerge. Instead, Barrick's scruffy head popped through.
Luke and I stared at him in surprise, not bothering to hide our shocked expression. As the two most recent victors, Luke and I were supposed to be mentoring while giving Barrick a well-deserved rest. He definitely did not need to be on the train heading to the Capitol, yet here he was.
He grinned at us, and I noticed his eyes were unusually clear. He was clean shaved, and looked a lot different. The last time I had seen him was when I had stolen liquor from his house. Even then, he wasn't as drunk as usual, but he was still living up to his reputation. Now, he seemed completely sober.
Mostly sober. I corrected myself when I noticed the near empty beer bottle clutched in his hand.
"What are you doing here?" Luke asked his old mentor, voicing my own question.
Barrick shrugged, making his way to the table and piling food onto a large plate. "Better booze in the Capitol. You'll learn."
He shot us a wink before leaving the way he came, the door sliding shut behind him. I stared at Luke, dumbfounded. My best friend just shook his head, looking exasperated.
"This is going to be a long few weeks." He murmured, looking out the window as the trees of an unknown district flew by in a blur. I leaned further into him, resting my head against my shoulder. I felt him tense, but after a moment he shifted to bring his arm around my shoulders.
My mind was going a mile a minute, switching between worrying about our current tributes to flashbacks from my own games. As if he could read my mind, Luke squeezed me closer. Although we had both managed to come out of the arena alive, we were both aware of how slim the chances were for our tributes. The Gamemakers would most likely do everything in their power to make sure District Nine didn't secure another win. Even if that wasn't a problem, both Ardice and Garth were only fourteen. The only fourteen-year-old who had ever won the Games was Finnick.
Finnick.
I bit my lip, anxious to see him again. The last time I saw him was when we had slept together back in the Capitol. I would never be able to repay him for letting me have control over my own body, even if just for a night. Still, I hoped we would never have to speak about that again, especially not with Luke around. Although I didn't regret my actions, I felt a small pool of guilt in my stomach as I looked up at Luke's hazel eyes. His gaze was still trained on the window, but his eyes were distant.
I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking about, but I supposed we all had our secrets.