Chapter Four: Flying Under the Radar

Inexplicably the Same Day

Galadia Devinson, District Two Female

I am so sick of training.

It's obvious who the designated volunteer is going to be, and it sure as hell isn't me.

"Brains don't get you very far," the head trainer, Amber, had said. "It's brute strength that wins the Games for you."

Oh, how I disagree. But I can't complain, not openly with every single person who wants that one spot crowded around here.

On that mentality, Amber is going to select Iridium Blanchard, an eighteen-year-old girl with a brain about the size of a marble (and I'm being generous) as the designated volunteer. All because she's a brutal, powerful thug who could rip someone's head off just as easily as she could say hello.

Actually, scratch that. I've never heard anything come out of her other than unintelligible grunts, so maybe saying hello is more difficult for her than ripping off someone's head is.

Huh. Iridium is actually a good name for her, given how dense she is.

"Hey!" Someone's yelling behind me. I turn, and it's a fourteen-year-old, glaring at me.

"Can you snap out of la-la-land and let me have a turn at the spear-fighting station?" She's still miffed, but her anger softens a little once I acknowledge her presence.

"What's the magic word?" She instantly turns beet-red. It's almost comical.

She doesn't bother to respond. She grumbles something under her breath, shoves me out of the way, and grabs a spear.

That's easy enough for her to do, considering I'm about half a foot shorter and fifty pounds lighter than the toughest girls, the ones everyone will gather around when they work their magic with weapons, the ones pouring their hearts and souls out for a spot.

That is not me.

That will never be me.

However, I don't give the slightest crap about who the designated volunteer is. It's going to be my turn this year, and nothing's going to get in my way.

I could wait another year until I'm eighteen, and try for a spot then, but I feel like that would be defeating the purpose as to why I'm volunteering in the first place.

If I win the Games this year, I'll prove every single Academy trainer in District Two wrong. It'll show them that being smarter than the competition is just as, if not more, important than being stronger than everyone else. There's something immensely satisfying about being proven right against the opinions of that many people.

Plus, the fame and fortune that spawn from being a victor will be a nice bonus. I should know, considering I live with one.

So, instead of hanging around to wait for Amber to select Iridium as the designated volunteer, I discreetly slip out the back door, heading for a place I would rather be instead of the training facility any day of the week.

The place I stop at is not a library, but it's close enough.

I always make sure to check out a boatload of books all at once, to make sure I'm in the actual library as infrequently as possible. Not because I dislike it- the serenity is nice, it's always quiet, and it's typically almost empty- but because I don't want my parents to find me in there. They do not like it when I blow off training, so I need to make sure that I don't get caught in the act.

Instead of a library, it's an abandoned house that nobody has bothered to buy or renovate for what has felt like decades. I've heard rumors that the place is haunted, which is why no one wants to buy the place or do anything with it, but I think those rumors are ridiculous. I've been using this as a sort of storage space for years, and I haven't had any paranormal encounters. At least, not yet.

I make sure no one's looking, then enter the house through the creaky front door. Then, I make sure all the shutters are still closed, and stroll through the house, taking books out of the hiding spots I place them in to make sure nobody else finds them. On top of a high cabinet, underneath the bathroom sink, underneath some hollow floorboards in the living room, stuffed inside a rusty safe that was left by the last inhabitant… the list goes on.

Then, I pull out a flashlight from another hiding place, plop down on a creaky chair behind an even creakier desk, pick a book at random from the pile, and begin reading.

I don't know what the title is. I'm too busy drinking in everything on the page to look. Sure enough, within a few minutes, I'm completely lost in literary bliss.

After what might be a couple of hours or a couple of days, I check my watch and almost fall out of my chair. Three-thirty! I told my parents I'd be home by four o'clock today!

Suppressing a sigh, I return all the books back to their proper places and dart out the door, again making sure no one is looking.

Then, I head for the house without the spring in my step I had leaving it.

Instead of strolling through town, like I do most of the time, I decide instead to take a shortcut behind some buildings to get home.

I need to present the idea to my parents as soon as possible. I'm not sure if they'll approve.

I know exactly what my mother, Valhalla, is going to think. Even though she stood behind my dad in forcing me to train from a young age, that was more for the getting in shape part of it than the Hunger Games part of it. Plus, she'd probably want me to wait the extra year- she wouldn't be able to bear it if she lost me.

But as for Slate, my father? He'd be another story. Considering the fact that he won his Games at sixteen, he'd probably be proud of me for wanting to volunteer a year early. Or he might be ticked at me because I wasn't chosen to volunteer like he was.

Oh well. Who gives a crap about who gets chosen? It's not being chosen that matters, it's having the guts to volunteer.

I knock on the door, waiting for an answer. However, it's not my mother. Instead, it's my grandmother, Victoria.

"Oh, hello Galadia," she says as she beckons me inside the living room.

As Grandma closes the door behind her, I search the house for my parents. It takes way longer than it should, since the house is so big, but eventually, I find them in their lavish bedroom.

They're sitting side by side on the bed, watching some pre-Hunger Games show. I don't bother to figure out what it is. For the best shot at them accepting my proposal, I need to get straight to the point.

It takes a couple of seconds, but they eventually notice that I'm there. "Back so early, Galadia?" This coming from my mother.

"No, training ended early today. Also, didn't I tell you I'd be back at four?"

"Sorry, I forgot. What did you do in training today?"

"They picked the designated volunteer. Not much else happened."

"Was it you?" This from my father.

"Actually, no. It was Iridium Blanchard. Honestly, no surprise. She's a year older and a hell of a lot crazier than I am."

My father looks away in disappointment. "Galadia-"

Thankfully, I'm able to cut him off before he starts a long lecture about how he wishes that I'd put in the effort to be the designated volunteer.

"Dad," I say, "I think I'm going to volunteer anyway."

My mother's eyes go wide. She says nothing.

My father, however, begins frowning. "I'm not sure if that's such a good idea, Galadia. If you put in the effort next year, you'll probably get that spot on your own."

That's exactly what I didn't want him to say. "And what makes you think I can't win this year?"

"First off- look in the mirror. You don't exactly look like someone who's been training day and night to compete. Second- I have experience with that."

"Experience? What do you mean by that?"

His expression softens to one of pure sadness, and he looks away from me.

"Well- you remind me a lot of my District partner that year. Smaller, cocky, volunteered a year early- the whole deal. She honestly was pretty nice once you got to know her, but being nice doesn't win fights."

"What happened to her?"

"She only made it about five minutes. An ambitious outlier- not sure who- snuck up behind her while she was grabbing supplies and cracked her skull open. Dead instantly. Didn't even flinch."

Despite the fact that I know how the Games work enough to not let that happen, I ask, "and what happened after that?"

"One of the other Careers- not me- decapitated him less than a minute later, but doing that wasn't going to bring my District partner back."

Then, he looks me directly in the eye. "If you want to volunteer, I can't stop you. Just use it as a cautionary tale. Don't end up like Uncle Tile."

"I don't plan on it," I say. Uncle Tile died in the Hunger Games two years after my father won them. He'd entered mostly for the fame of being the second victor from my grandparents' house, but had been "bumped off" by the older and stronger Careers because he just wasn't skilled enough when he entered.

Then, I hurry out of the house. I have a couple of friends that I need to say goodbye to before I leave for good.

As I exit the Victor's Village and head for the town center, I begin scanning the surroundings, looking for Eris and Valerie. It shouldn't be hard, since I've never seen the two of them separately in my life. You'd think they were conjoined twins at one point or something, but no. They're just two kids who really, really like each other.

Sure enough, they're together as usual, sitting on a stone bench by the side of what passes for a road, cracking jokes about everyone who passes by. I've done that with them before, and let me tell you, it is a great anger management activity.

Then, Eris notices me walking towards them and taps Valerie on the shoulder before turning to face me. "Hey, Gala? What happened to your shoes today? You throw up on them or something?"

Ironically, I find that pretty funny. That's the only type of joke those two are capable of making: a potentially offensive one.

"No, I didn't. Maybe they got the design idea from your coat!" I can match their snark levels pretty easily, which is why they like me as a friend in the first place.

Eris and Valerie stare at me for a second, but then crack up laughing. In spite of the fact that I made the second joke, I laugh along with them.

"What's up?" Valerie finally starts speaking.

"I don't know. Your shirt?"

She looks down at her (currently exposed) stomach, then cracks up laughing again.

After we all settle down, I know it's time to get serious again. "You two! I have something to tell you that's not an insult disguised as a joke!"

The two of them whisper a couple of things to each other before turning to me. "Spill the beans, Gala."

"Don't worry, I brought a can," Valerie says, and produces an open can of them, dumping it on Eris' head.

"Can you guys please be serious for about five seconds? This is important!"

They both nod, even Eris, who looks ridiculous with beans still stuck in her curly blond hair. I know I need to ditch the load, now, before I make myself sound stupid.

"I'm competing in the Hunger Games this year."

Eris and Valerie look at each other, then me. They proceed to start laughing hysterically again.

"That's a great joke, Gala!" Eris says. "You, in the Hunger Games! No way."

"You totally got me!" Valerie chokes this out between giggles.

Well, that's just great.

I'm going to be fighting for my life in less than two weeks and my friends thought I told them I was competing as a joke.

So, I decide to just leave them behind to their business and head back home.

They'll find out I'm serious tomorrow, anyway.

It's late when I get back home and I don't have an appetite, so I skip dinner altogether and decide to just go to sleep.

I'm frustrated with just about everyone and everything right now. No one thinks I can win the Games. Not the trainers, not my friends, not even my own parents. It's ridiculous.

Don't worry, I tell myself, I'll show them.

All I can do now is wait for tomorrow.

Author's Notes:

-I don't have much to say this time. Thanks to Galaxy842 for Galadia.

-Next up is the D2M, created by Sparky She-Demon.

-I'm still missing the boy from 6, the girl from 7, both from 9, the girl from 10, and both from 11. Feel free to submit if you haven't already! (This is just me, but I'd prefer a couple of younger tributes- I only have two under the age of fifteen.)

-See you next chapter, and thanks for reading!