Sleep. Ha. What is that? I don't get any sleep that night. I'm too busy worrying about Xavier. Breakfast is hazy at best; I nearly dump salt in my oatmeal, instead of the usual sugar.
Electra hands me the sugar, chuckling. "You okay, Alma?"
"Had a rough night," I reply. "Too stressed about… you know…"
I can't mention Thirteen's Battle by name; not when I'm in a room with the woman who announced it into being. Mom's sipping coffee by the door. It's about time for her to leave. But before she does, she clears her throat.
"So… Xavier Jarvis gave me an interesting bit of info last night…"
"Yeah?" I ask, keeping my voice normal.
Electra's curious. She has no clue about Xavier's true upbringing. "What did he say?"
"He said that he never lived in District Thirteen before the bombings. He was born and raised in District Twelve."
"Oh. Really?" Please tell me I don't sound as if I knew this already.
"Somebody tipped him off about our underground society, and after his family died, he said he wanted to find this place so he'd be free."
"I can't blame him," Electra says. "The rest of Panem… it's like a horror story. I would've tried escaping first chance I got. Will you punish him for it?"
"Well… I… Xavier's underage. No guardians. I'm not happy he lied to me, but he's proved himself extremely useful in the butcher house. I think losing his family is punishment enough."
Dang. He just dodged a bullet.
"You're going soft," I joke.
"It's called maternal instinct. He reminds me of… Jason. I know you girls remember what today is."
A tear. A sniffle. All three of us letting bittersweet memories enter our minds.
It would've been Jason's twenty-first birthday today. My brother was a goofball. He knew how to make me laugh when I had a bad day; didn't tease me if I wanted to talk about boys or other girly stuff. A true ladies' man, but not in the way you might think. Jason treated girls right. So did my father. The best guys any sister or daughter could ask for. I'd give anything to see them walk through the door, alive and well.
Today, my mother will announce the tributes of Thirteen's Battle. But that won't happen until after lunch.
The Hunger Games are down to ten tributes now. Titus, the District 6 boy I've been rooting for, is on his own. No allies. He's good at fending for himself. I think I'd probably be that way, too. Can't trust anybody when only one is allowed to live. He comes across a dead tribute; the District 10 girl, if I recall. The boy looks ready to pass out from hunger. Not much vegetation exists in this cold arena; so he hasn't found anything edible in a long time. Sponsors have given him the majority of his food. But he's too impatient to wait for more. With a knife, he… cuts through the body. And takes a piece inside his mouth.
Okay. He just crossed the line.
Everyone around me shares mutual disgust, covering their eyes or keeping their heads down. He goes back for more; and doesn't show signs of stopping anytime soon. But the Gamemakers have other ideas, I discover. The mountain behind Titus crumbles down like a tidal wave, crushing him underneath before he can adopt any course of action.
Another cannon; another tribute down.
All of us eligible for Thirteen's Battle are rounded up and sent to the front of the commons area. We were told to wear black, as a symbol for the Dark Days.
Mom ascends her platform. Blank-faced. An assistant carries the name bowls.
"Good afternoon, District Thirteen," she says. "I know this must be a difficult day. But I take no pleasure in it, either. It's time we acknowledged our mistakes and atoned for them. I'm going to start with the girls."
She sticks her hand inside the girl's bowl. Electra and I squeeze each other's hands as the first name is drawn.
"Chloe Blevins," she announces.
Chloe looks about sixteen years old. I don't know her very well, but the fear in her eyes is contagious. I know I'm not out of the clear yet. She walks towards my mother, her blonde braid swinging behind her.
Once Chloe's standing by the platform, Mom picks girl number two. She reads the paper silently, and I see her swallow hard. This can't be good. She only does that when she's genuinely upset. No, no no no no-
"The second girl tribute is…Electra Coin."
Why, oh why did she forbid volunteers? The Hunger Games allows it! My bottom lip quivers slightly.
But Electra's fierce. She can win. Isn't that horrible of me, to disregard Chloe as a human being? I just… I don't know what else I'm supposed to feel. In the case of murder vs. being murdered, killing is the better choice, I guess. Electra might argue differently.
The first boy selected? Thirteen-year old Raines Kettle. With his spindly figure, I bet he wouldn't last five minutes in the Hunger Games. Maybe he has something clever up his sleeve. I doubt it. Whoever he faces will probably be older, and therefore, stronger.
I'm unprepared when Mom announces the second boy: "Xavier Jarvis."
This is a joke. This is a horrible, sick joke. Xavier keeps calm; shakes hands with Raines just as Mom asks. All four tributes force a smile. I know what they're thinking.
Might as well go out in style.
