[12] - Rochelle
A/N - Thank you so much for all the support I've gotten on this story in the last few days - it's meant so much and has kept me motivated to make this story the best it can be!
~S
The Training Center is filled with conversation as I quietly enter. Most of the Gamemakers are talking to each other in small groups; only one man at the center of the group watches me as I slowly make my way to the center of the room; that must be the Head Gamemaker. He's an intimidating man who looks like he rarely smiles, and his silver beard runs down his chest.
"Rochelle Carrillo," I announce, just like August told me to, but with a slight waver in my voice. I want these men to know that I'm afraid of them. "District Eight."
"Welcome, Ms. Carrillo," the Head Gamemaker calls back. "Please begin when you're ready."
I nervously nod before looking around the room. What should I show the Gamemakers? I know I should do what August told me to do, but I don't know how the Gamemakers would take it. To me, showing off my knowledge of plants wouldn't be very impressive, but August knows what he's talking about. Maybe the Gamemakers would be impressed by my knowledge and give me a good score, and that's not what I need right now. I need to slip under the radar.
I slowly walk to the weapons rack. The Gamemakers have quieted down now out of respect, but hopefully, they'll lose interest soon.
I pick up a bow and some arrows; the bow is the easiest to mess up, so this should be easy. I make sure to glance back nervously, pretending to check that the Gamemakers are still watching, before making my way to the targets.
Back in District Eight, Diego and I trained the most with the bow. He managed to convince Lucilio to pawn one from the market, and we practiced our aim every day using whittled tree branches. This should be a piece of cake for me. The only problem: I don't want the Gamemakers to know my skills. To show them that would be to put a target on my back.
In the end, I shoot ten arrows at the human-shaped target. Eight miss the target entirely. The two that do hit, though, hit perfectly. One in the head and one on the heart.
By the time I'm finished, the Gamemakers have returned to their usual chatting. "Thank you, Miss Carrillo," the man with the long beard calls over the others. "That will suffice."
Only one man watches as I bow and exit the room. Perfect.
"How'd you do?" Diego asks me when I return to the District Eight suite. He's already having a snack at the long table when I return.
I just shrug. "Not great. My aim was off. I don't think most of them were watching, to be honest."
"Me too," Diego says, dejected. "But I did try my best, and I think that I proved that."
"Good," I congratulate him. "I hope they give you the score you deserve. I don't care what they give me as long as it's not high."
Diego pauses his chewing, giving me a look to make sure I'm not joking. "You don't want to get a good score?" he asks. "What about all those months we practiced together for this? What was all that for?"
"That was for the Arena," I say, sitting next to Diego. "And times have changed since then. To score highly now would only put a target on my back. Now that August's my partner, I have people after me who wouldn't even know my name otherwise. So I have to blend into the background."
"That makes sense," Diego says with a nod. Things have always been simple with him. "Well, I hope you do horribly, then."
"Thank you," I say with a laugh.
A few hours go by before we're all gathered together in front of a screen to see our Training Scores.
"No matter what you both get, you're both fantastic," Venetia says, fluttering about as we wait for the broadcast to begin. By the tone of her voice, I can tell that she's trying to convince herself that what she's saying is true.
"Sit down, Venetia," Leah calls from next to Diego. "It's starting."
Venetia quickly sits next to Ramona, who's staring blankly at the screen ahead of us. The Capitol seal has disappeared, and a woman now occupies the screen. She's a blur of green - from her blouse to her massive hairdo, everything about this woman consists of different shades of the same color.
"Hello, hello!" The woman begins. "This is Venia Sharpe speaking, here live to announce the results of this year's Tribute Assessments!"
A pop-up below Venia's face reads "VENIA SHARPE – HOST". She must be one of the Hosts of the Games this year; August told me that there were two. I wonder where the other one is.
"As we all know, each year the tributes are assessed by a team of Gamemakers to evaluate their abilities in survival and combat," Venia explains with a dizzying amount of excitement. "This year, the assessments were led by Acanthus Sylverthorn, this year's Head Gamemaker."
That must have been the man with the long beard. The man behind the Arena. I wonder what tricks he has up his sleeve.
"Tributes are assessed on a scale from One to Twelve, with Twelve being the best. With that being said, let's begin!"
For some reason, the boys' scores are announced before the girls', so August's is the first to be announced.
"From District One, August Vassault, with a score of... 11."
Eleven! Venetia gasps with excitement. She's clearly jealous that he's not her own tribute. "That's your partner, Rochelle!" she calls as if I'm stupid. "That's amazing!"
I let out a sigh of relief. I'm so proud of August - I know he really wanted to prove himself, and he did. Almost nobody gets a twelve, so an eleven is as good as you can get.
The Careers do well, as expected. Pollux matches August's score of eleven, while Zinnia scores a nine and Princess fumbles with a measly eight. I can't help but smile, not just at August's success, but at Princess' failure. I mean, eight is no bad score by any means, but I'm definitely happy that she scored the worst of the Careers. She's probably not too happy about that.
To rub salt in Princess' wounds, Calder scores a seven. I guess all of her preparations for the Games didn't serve her as well as she'd hoped. Calder's District partner, who Venia says is named Lyssa, also does well, scoring a six. She might be one to watch out for.
As expected, the rest of us do poorly. Both kids from Five receive a two, and the boy from Six gets a one.
Finally, Venia gets to District Eight. "Next up, Diego from District Eight, with a score of... six."
Leah and Venetia cheer next to me. "Congrats!" I say, clapping Diego on the shoulder. He looks disappointed; I think he wanted to score even higher, but a six is basically as high as you can get for no-names like us. I'm glad that all our training paid off; Diego needs all the help he can get right now.
"And also from District Eight, Rochelle, with a score of... four."
I get a smaller cheer, but I'm relieved at my score. This is perfect - my two perfect shots must have impressed Sylverthorn, because I didn't get a one. With a score like four, I won't come off as too weak - I don't want to be seen as completely useless - but I'm not a threat, either. Next to me, Ramona just nods, resigned to the fact that I'm almost certainly going to die now.
Turns out, four is a pretty good score compared to some of the others. The weak girl from Nine - the one paired with Pollux - scores a two, and neither of the kids from Ten score higher than me either. The only surprise is the boy from Eleven; Venia says his name is Damon, and he ends up with a nine. On-par with Zinnia.
"And last but certainly not least, from District Twelve, Astrid Pianelli, with a score of... one," Venia reads, and Diego deflates next to me, the excitement from his own score now gone. The reality of his situation crashes down on us: no matter how well Diego does, he will always be tethered to the weakest girl in the Arena. I don't know why Venia said that Astrid was 'last but not least' - with a score of one, she actually is the least.
"I'm going to bed," Diego says, abruptly standing from the couch. "Long day tomorrow."
I follow Diego from the room. He's right - tomorrow's a big day, and I have a lot to think about. It's almost time for our interviews, which is our one and only chance to speak with the people of Panem before we enter the Arena. I need to play my cards exactly right tomorrow; my life depends on it.