Omar Beatriz-Calvert, District Ten male (15)

There isn't much opportunity in the Districts. But that doesn't mean there isn't any opportunity at all.

The sun was warm on my back as I reclined in the grass in front of my house. The book in my lap was open to a page of physics equations. They were hard to get through but I was making progress. My mother said I was a very smart young man but that's what mothers are supposed to say. In my opinion things like that were much more about hard work and dedication than about talent. School came easier to me than it did for some other kids but there were other things that were harder for me than for most people. That's how it is for everyone.

It seemed like I was right about hard work and dedication, since I was set to be the top of my class this year. Of course it was easier when I lived in a family that had enough money to eat and have a warm house. I had more time and energy to study and I threw myself into it, wanting to make the most of all I'd been given.

Out in the field I could see my mother riding on Spirit. It was largely thanks to her that I was in this position. Mom trained horses and she was so respected in her field that some of the horses she'd trained went off to the Capitol for events and parades. One of the coolest memories of my life was the day our entire extended family crowded around a tiny television to watch Mom's horse Jeepers pulling the District Three chariot in the Hunger Games parade nine years ago. It was the Beatriz-Calvert fifteen minutes of fame.

If everything went perfectly I might get a fifteen minutes of my very own. It was an ambitious goal, but I was angling for one of the handful of scholarships open to District kids. If I was the top of my class I had the opportunity to take the Panem Standardized College Board exam. If I scored in the ninety-ninth percentile I went into the pool of students considered for a college education in the Capitol or in one of the handful of District satellite sites. More likely a satellite site, really. I wasn't sure if any District kids had been picked for a Capitol scholarship in the last decade.

I checked my watch and closed my book. I waved to Mom as I stood up and started back toward the house. She rode Spirit up to the fence and hopped off, trotting to catch up to me.

"Heading out?" she asked, swiping some stray hairs behind her ear as they frizzed in the sun.

"Toby and I were going to hang out," I said. Without meaning to, Mom glanced at the book under my arm. I knew she wanted to ask but was holding back so I humored her.

"I finished the chapter and I'm going to study more tonight," I said. Mom never pressured me but I knew how excited she was that I had an opportunity to make the most out of my life and maybe lift up my entire family. She loved me no matter what but I still wanted to make her proud.

"Don't you study too hard," she admitted. "You and Toby have fun."

Dirt crunched under my feet as I ambled down the dusty countryside road to cousin Toby's house. One of the best things about Ten was just how pretty everything was. Sure it all smelled like manure and animals but at least when I went outside there was grass and sun instead of smog and buildings. Even if I lived here the rest of my life I would be happy. Almost certainly I would, too. I was a smart kid but there were a lot of smart kids out there. The odds were almost astronomical against me ever being in the Capitol.


Bess Carver, District Ten female (17)

"Which do you think would win, a squirrel or a rabbit?"

"A rabbit's a lot bigger," Donal mused as he hefted a feed bag onto the cart.

"Yeah but a squirrel can move easier," I said. "Like they skitter up trees and stuff. Rabbits got those legs that mostly just hop."

"They can use them to kick though," Donal said. He grimaced as he tried to tip a heavier bag over the edge of the cart. I reached over and hefted it out for him.

"That's true. I guess it depends on the arena, too. Are there trees around or not?" I asked.

"Seems like the squirrel has a big advantage if there are," I said.

"We should also decide how big the squirrel is and how big the rabbit is," I said.

"I assumed they were the same size," Donal said.

"If they were then the squirrel would win because it has the grabby hands," I said.

"I've never seen a squirrel and a rabbit fight. If I had then I guess we'd know," Donal said. We'd almost finished moving all the bags onto the cart. It was hot sweaty work hefting fifty-pound bags off the ground and into a waist-high cart. It was a lucky thing I'd been doing it for years and was almost as wide as I was tall at this point. Of course it might not exactly be lucky since if I'd never had to lift bags in the first place I wouldn't have had to get so strong.

"I think the squirrel would win even if it was smaller because it has fingers," I said.

"You're probably right," Donal said.

"No, the rabbit would definitely win." We both looked over as Ramsey walked up with a feed bag under each arm. "I saw two rabbits fight once and one kicked the other so hard it did a flip."

"I dunno. Squirrels are so light. It might not hurt them to flip," Donal said.

"Nope. Rabbit would win," Ramsey insisted. He set down his bags and left with an air of confidence.

The evening whistle went off just then, marking the end of our shift. Donal and I stopped at the watering station for a drink and then headed back toward the workers' quarters where both our families lived.

"Hey, you think I can throw a rock farther than you?" I asked along the way. We'd lagged behind since I was in no rush to go back to my family's cramped apartment. I loved my family but I was just plain a big girl and just plain didn't fit in sometimes.

"Yeah, probably," Donal said. No matter how long we worked together he never seemed to gain any weight. My mom said he looked like a bean sprout in the shade.

"Loser gets slugged," I said as I picked up a rock. I wasn't sure where the tradition had come from, since never once had either of us slugged the other after winning a bet. It was just something we'd both heard our parents say and they'd probably heard their parents say.

Donal threw his rock and it soared through the air until it finally thudded down not far from the cart we'd just left behind.

I was more careful with my approach. I gauged the distance and lined up the throw and when I finally let it rip I pivoted and put all my strength into it. My rock whizzed through the air with such speed I could hear the thrum. It soared past the wagon and I heard Donal's alarmed squeak as it headed straight for the equipment shed.

What are the odds it will-

It went right through the window. Donal and I looked at each other for an instant and then hurriedly looked around to see if anyone had seen it. To our relief the other workers were ahead of us and any supervising Peacekeepers were out of sight.

"Nobody saw it nothing happened," I said with a mix of guilt and relief. I turned around and ran for it.


Woohoo last Reaping!