Tiara Softshield, 16
From More than Chance
"Nettie, will you quit?"
"You're just jealous that I got the mirror and you didn't."
"I got the hairbrush, so you can just eat your words."
Nettie rolls off of my bed and almost misses the floor. "I have no idea how you do that," I say, trying not to laugh.
She brushes her jeans off and glares at me, but I know she doesn't mean it. "Not all of us can be victors, Tiara."
"When I get back next summer, I'm not going to give you anything I win."
"Oh, so you're greedy too. Nice to know," Nettie says.
"I'm smart. There's a difference."
Nettie considers me for a moment, then wraps a finger around a strand of her hair. "Think I should cut it again?"
"You griped about it being short until it grew out again," I say, swinging my legs over so that I'm sitting up on the edge of my bed. I really love the cover Mums made for me last fall; it's dark blue with a crown in the corner, so that only I can see it. She's always telling me that she named Nettie and me for royalty, because we were going to do great things.
I love my mother, but she can be a bit of an overachiever. Maybe not for me. But it's really a stretch with Coronet.
"Yeah, but this time I think I'll like it," Nettie says.
"Why don't you just shave your head and be done with it?"
"Don't you ever stop?"
"No. Brip?"
Nettie smiles. "Brip."
That's how we know that we're not being serious. Other times we just make noises at each other, and somehow we know what we're going to do.
"Byeroo," I say, and Nettie nods. Without any other communication, we both head for the door.
"Mums, you got the candles, right?" I ask, jumping down the last two steps and landing with a thud.
"Stop thumping; you're going to make the cake fall," Mums calls from the kitchen. The house is kind of small, but we're not all bumping up against each other anyway. I'd like my own room, but I'm doomed to share it with Nettie for all eternity.
Well, when I win in July, we'll all move into Victor's Village and I'll get my own room. Nettie can have two if she wants; we'll all be rich beyond our wildest dreams. It would be worth winning just to get her candy.
Nettie might drive me absolutely crazy, but I still like her.
"I won't make the cake fall. Did you get the candles?" I ask, rounding the corner and leaning against the doorway leading into the kitchen.
"Of course I did."
"Good, thanks."
"Can't have Yuletide without candles!" Nettie says, bouncing after me.
"Stop thumping or the cake is going to fall!" Mums says.
"Who gets to light them?" Nettie asks.
"The president," I say dryly.
"Ha ha. So who gets to light the candles?"
"Tiara, you've been training. If Nettie can take you down, then she gets to light them; otherwise it's you," Mums says. "But don't do it until the cake is out."
I roll my eyes. "Just do it, Nettie."
"Yay! Thanks."
"You know, I still don't think thirteen agrees with you," I say.
"Sixteen doesn't agree with you either, but here we are."
"January'll fix that," Mums says, looking through the window into the oven. "Seventeen and fourteen; I'm old."
"You're not old; you're just… very mature," I say.
"Thank you," Mums says, and I don't know if she's sarcastic or not.
"I'm heading out; Sequin and Fairy are meeting me outside the Justice Building," I say.
"I still think Fairy is a stupid name, and you've known her for years," Nettie says.
"Says the girl named Coronet," I say.
"You are both royalty, don't you forget that," Mums says. "Be home by four, Tiara."
"It's one now," I tell her.
"And I say be home at four. Your father is coming home then, and we'll be getting Yuletide on track. Besides, the honey bread will be just coming out of the oven."
Mums's got me there. Honey bread is best hot, so I guess I will have to be home by four. Annoying.
"Fine, I'll be back in three," I say. Where did I put my hat again? It's not snowing, but it's super cold out. Dads keeps saying that it's going to snow, but he's been wrong for months. Not a snow filled year. It better snow tonight, or Mums won't be happy; talking about the omens for the new year.
I think that it's all a bunch of nonsense, but I'm not going to be the one to say it to Mums. That superstition stops there, though; I'm not passing it down if I have kids.
"Okay, I'll be back!" I call, stuffing my orange hat on my head. Nettie knit it for me last Christmas, and even though I hate orange, I'll still wear it. As Mums says, it's the thought that counts. At least my gloves are store bought, straight from District 8.
Before Nettie can say anything else, I slam the door behind me and take off.
Ugh, it's a smoggy day today. The factories are supposed to be solar powered, but everyone knows that the panels are only 75% working, if that. Apparently the Capitol keeps saying they'll send someone to fix them, but I'm not banking too much on it. Maybe when I win I'll put some money into them. Who knows?
"Hey! Ra Ra!"
"Quin Quin! Ree Ree!" I shout back, breaking into a jog when I see my friends. We've had these dumb nicknames for years, and it's more of an inside joke than anything now. Six year olds make up the stupidest things.
"Happy Yuletide," I say, immediately pulling Sequin and Fairy into our huddle.
"Happy Yuletide! Oh my god, my mother has been going on all day about getting the house ready," Sequin says.
"Mums's on the snow omen track," I say.
"If I hear one more word out of my mother about the snow, I am going to scream!" Fairy says.
"Move along girls."
I didn't even notice the Peacekeeper standing next to us. "Okay, we're going, we're going," Fairy says, rolling her eyes.
"You're playing with fire, aren't you?" Sequin says, just as I step on an icy patch and slip.
"Oh oh, you don't want to be breaking your leg right before you're going to volunteer," Fairy says, pulling me back up to standing.
"You just wish you were volunteering," I say, straightening my hat.
"I could if I really wanted to."
"With your skinny little arms?" Sequin says. "They wouldn't let you on the stage."
"About as much of a chance as a twelve-year-old," I add.
Fairy glares at us, one on each side of her, but she can't keep her face straight. "You two are just awful, you know that?"
"And you still love us," I say, resting my head against hers. "By the way, I have to be home by four."
"Four?" Sequin says, her mouth dropping open in outrage.
"Honey. Bread." I have to say those two words with emphasis. Sequin shuts her mouth and nods knowingly.
"Honey bread. Fine, that's reasonable."
"I knew you would see the light," I say.
"Don't you go seeing the light; we won't get money that way," Fairy says.
"You're just hanging out with me for the money, aren't you?"
"Why else would we be?"
"Idiots," I say, shoving to my left so that Fairy and Sequin both stumble to the side. Walking arm in arm is dangerous sometimes.
"Still love us?" Fairy asks.
"Maybe."
Fairy turns and kisses my cheek, laughing. "See? We love you!"
"Not like that!" I say, wiping my cheek off with my free hand. "I think we should break up."
"Yeah, ten years gone down the drain," Sequin says.
"Worst years of my life."
"What a nice friend you are," Fairy says.
"I'm the best," I say. There's a pause, then we all simultaneously bend over with laughter.
These are my best friends in the whole world. I have no idea what I'd do without them; it's us three against the world, and that's how it's going to be forever. We've gotten to sixteen, and so far so good. Time to keep it that way.
"It's still not snowing!"
"Yeah, I know; I was just outside," I say, putting my hat up on the shelf that's it's supposed to be on.
"Smartass," Nettie mutters, and I can hear Mums gasp.
"Coronet Jewel Softshield, don't you ever let me hear you say that again," she says, going over and giving Nettie's palms a slap. I've had that happen before; it doesn't hurt.
"Sorry," Nettie says, then skulks away up the stairs.
"You know you're not really sorry, right?" I say to her. She turns around and glares at me.
"No duh, Tiara."
The front door opens just as Mums opens the oven door.
"Hey Dads!" I call out, taking a seat on the stairs. There's a drop of paint on them that Mums's never been able to get out, ever since I spilled a bottle coming down the stairs when I was twelve. Cracks in wood really hold paint well.
"Hello," Dads says, taking off his shoes, then comes over to give me a kiss on the head. "Give me a minute to get changed, then we can get this show on the road."
"Sounds good. Mums, it smells great!" I call.
"I'm letting it cool; then you can have it," she calls back.
"Kay. I'm going to go upstairs; I'll be right down."
Upstairs, Nettie is lying flat on her back on her bed, glaring at the ceiling.
"Get over yourself," I say, grabbing my hairbrush. I have to be careful not to brush it too much, because the waves will frizz up. Last thing I need is my hair standing on end at supper.
"I'm fine." She says it through gritted teeth. I laugh.
"Yeah, when someone says they're fine, they're not. Just don't swear in front of Mums again."
"It wasn't even that bad a word!" Nettie says, sitting up abruptly.
"Just let it go; everyone else is."
"I should just stay up here all night."
"Fine, I'll light the candles," I say, grabbing an elastic and pulling my hair up into a ponytail. I'm not going to be an idiot and light my hair on fire tonight.
"No, I'll do it," Nettie says. Ha, there we go. Her competitiveness outweighs everything else. Dads's footsteps thump down the stairs; he can never walk quietly.
"Quit sulking and let's go," I say. Nettie sticks her tongue out at me, but follows after me as I swing the door open.
"Are we lighting the candles now, or are we putting the socks up?" I ask, jumping the last two stairs again.
"You know it's socks before bed," Mums says. It's such a dumb tradition, but it gets me chocolate in the morning, so why would I stop it?
"Can I light the candles now?" Nettie asks, bouncing back from her pouting. See, competitiveness makes everything else go away.
Dads is sticking the candles into their holders; six in a ring. "Three of each, that's pretty," I say, kneeling down beside the low table that Dads has the candles on. "Have to love the red and white."
"It's all I could get," Mums says, putting the plate of honey bread right next to me. I don't even ask before I grab a slice. Honestly, it's my favorite thing to eat, not only at Yuletide.
"Good choice, then," Dads says, pushing the last red candle into place. "Who's lighting them this year?"
"Me!" Nettie says.
"Are you trustworthy with fire?" Dads asks, raising an eyebrow.
"I haven't burned anything down yet."
"Not very reassuring, Coronet."
"I'm fine. I can do it."
"Like she says, she hasn't lit anything on fire yet," I say through a mouthful of honey bread.
"Just be careful," Dads says, handing the matchbox to Nettie. She grins so wide it looks like her face is going to split in two. Little pyromaniac.
With one swift movement, she strikes the match, then almost reverently touches the flame to each candle. I have to admit, they're pretty.
"Blow it out so we don't light the house on fire," I say. Nettie rolls her eyes, but waves the match out with a streak of light following it.
"Well, happy Yuletide," Dads says, sitting back on his heels.
"I do wish there was snow," Mums says, taking a piece of bread and passing it to Dads.
"Don't worry about it, Mums. It'll be fine," Nettie says, grabbing a piece of bread for herself, keeping one eye on the glowing candles.
"Best year ever coming up," I say. "Nothing's going to go wrong, you'll see."
And honestly, that's exactly what I believe.