| K n o w T h y E n e m y |

chapter ii

Sometimes I can't help but hate myself. I'm bitter, keep to myself, and have many snarky remarks. Others follow my lead because of my last name, because of the family I was born to, and I can count on one hand – disregarding my family – the people who genuinely like me.

It was probably going to be the same scenario in the arena. Being from a Career district, the Tributes from one and two would want to team up with me and become allies to defeat the weaker contenders. But being my churlish self, I wouldn't want to work with anybody, let alone them, unless it came down to life and death. It could well go against me, but trust isn't a concept that comes easily.

I remained in my Reaping clothes the rest of the day and stayed in my temporary room until there was a knock on the door and Roxanne summoned me for dinner. The dining hall, adjacent to the living quarters, was painted in the same shade of red as my room. The table was made of fine mahogany, the floor was black wood, and an intricate rug was placed between the two. Ashton was already seated at the table while Roxanne was bustling around the room.

I sat across from Ashton and turned towards Roxanne. "So where are our mentors, exactly?"

Roxanne joined us at the table and tucked the perfectly white napkin into her collar. I wrinkled my nose. "I called them out just a couple minutes ago. I'm sure they'll have to clean up a little bit before they join us, but fill free to start."

With the ending syllable of her speech, two men and two women came from another compartment, both hands weighing a silver platter of different foods. A girl sat down her plates and revealed pheasant with a balsamic reduction and a cheese soufflé while a man set down caramelized pears and a roasted duck with a raspberry glaze. More plates followed, and when everything was served, the waiters left the room silently.

Avoxes, I thought silently. I always had pitied and felt conscious around them, but I knew my sympathy wasn't something I could openly share.

Roxanne began passing the plates around, starting with the caramelized pears and then the stuffed choux puffs. Ashton began to pile at least a bit of every dish onto his plate and dug in without further instruction. I, on the other hand, tenderly took a little bit of the pears and a couple deviled eggs onto my plate and left it at that.

Roxanne eyed the little bit of food I decided to take and inquired, "That's all?"

"Yes," I stated plainly. "I'm actually a vegetarian and, as of now, not very hungry."

"You're a vegetarian?" she repeated. "How do you not starve?"

Another reason why I found it so hard to like Roxanne: she always stated her questions so bluntly.

"She's the mayor's daughter," Ashton explained, "so she can afford to do such a thing."

I shot him a glare and Roxanne cleared her throat. "Well, I can always have the waiters bring something else out for you."

She began to clap her hands to summon the Avoxes, but I interjected, "No, I'm Ok. Really."

"That plan definitely isn't going to last in the arena," Ashton mumbled, though he deliberately wanted me to hear.

"I know," I growled flatly, returning to my plate in silence.

We waited about five more minutes before the door of the compartment in front of the one we were in opened and two people, a man and a woman, stepped into the dining quarters. The woman, whom appeared to be middle age, had chestnut brown hair with high curls and turquoise eyes. She was tall and lanky with a circular face and a naturally bright smile. The man, too, was in his mid-thirties with black, spiky hair and a peachy complexion. He was about the same height as the woman, but slightly more muscular. Both took a seat side-by-side across from me and Roxanne.

"So you two must be the two lucky enough to represent District 4 in the beloved Hunger Games," the man mentor began.

I bit back a smile, for I didn't know if he was being serious or sarcastic.

"I'm Lachlan," he continued, "and this is Lisette." He gestured to the woman next to him.

"I'm Ashton Draycott," Ashton piped up.

"AnnaSophia," I introduced next.

Lachlan and Lisette both owned homes in the Victors' Village, but a couple times had I seen them wandering around the wealthy town of District 4, in the gardens, the local shops. From what I had observed, the two seemed to be good friends.

"So I suppose we should go over a couple things before we get to the Capitol," Lisette mentioned. "When we first arrive tomorrow, you'll be assigned to a stylist who will help you prepare for the opening ceremonies, but I'm sure you knew this already."

Lachlan continued, "The following day you will begin preparing for the Games in the Training Center. They'll have a myriad of stations, everything from survival skills to how to defend yourself. On the third day of your training, you'll have your private session with the Gamemakers. They'll rate you on your skills from one to twelve."

"And in between you'll be having sessions with me regarding your interviews with Caesar Flickerman," Roxanne said.

"But," Lisette continued, her voice now very serious, "we should probably decide this before tomorrow. Do you two want to train together or separately?"

"Separately," Ashton and I said in unison, instantaneously.

"Well, that was simple," Lachlan commented. "Now, tomorrow you are to do as your stylist says. The Tribute's Parade is the start of the Games, as it is a good time to start lining up your sponsors. This year you'll be working with Bertha Averill and Lawrence Daaé. They won't steer you wrong."

"What about allies?" Ashton queried. "What advice would you give about choosing allies."

Lachlan leaned back in his chair and knitted his hands behind his head. "Well, being from a Career district, one may think that it is expected of you to pair up with the Tributes from one and two. While you may do that if you please, I want to tell you this: scope out all the other contestants; you may be surprised how valuable some of them may be."

"And for those of us who don't want allies?" I challenged.

Silence filled the room. Roxanne stopped chewing her steamed lobster. Lachlan put his folded hands on the table and leaned closer, eyeing me up and down, scoping out my features, any emotion on my face. Eventually, he cracked and smile and chuckled, "I like her."

Lisette nodded in agreement. "Yes, she's just like you. I wouldn't suggest doing away with the idea of an ally completely before you see who you're up against, but if you don't see anybody special in training, by all means, fend for yourself." She beamed a genuine smile.

Ashton snorted. "Good luck with that."

My fork clattered on the porcelain plate in front of me. "Do you have anything nice to say?" I demanded. After my outburst, he ate the rest of his meal in silence.

Despite the plush interior of my room, falling to sleep was much easier said than done. After dinner, Roxanne, Lachlan, Lisette, Ashton, and I went over to the living quarters and watched the recap of the Reaping, watched eleven different versions of Roxanne calling the names of boys and girls from ages twelve to eighteen to the stage in their district's town square. Some occasionally volunteered for those reaped, but only in Districts one and two. People like them flung themselves at death, but their sentence was much more flexible. They were power hungry; they had the resources and skills to succeed in the arena.

Re-watching the Reaping only set me up for an endless night and a bellicose sleep. After tossing and turning under the comforter, I stood up and began to pace around the room. A shiver ran up my spine, my feet fought against the cold floor; the nightgowns provided were elegant and beautiful, but didn't provide much warmth. After rummaging around in the dresser, I pulled out a black asymmetric zip jacket with a draped neck and put it on around me, climbing back under the covers and attempting to fall asleep. For a while I dazed on and off, but my nerves got the best of me and I began to pace the room again. Above me, a sun roof revealed a night sky full of constellations and an occasional falling star. I eyed it suspiciously, climbing onto my bed to open it. I hoisted myself up, and with the little muscle I had, was able to pull myself to a sitting position on the roof of the train. We whizzed past a plethora of trees, past open valleys and past all free people. We left it all behind, undisturbed.

At first I was cautious of moving, not allowing myself to shift my body even a centimeter or two. For one, it seemed odd that the Capitol would trust the Tributes not to jump off of the moving train and make a break for it. Many times have I seen them in past Games try to kill themselves by jumping off of the Training Center, only to be thrown back by the force field. It's not that they care about their Tributes, but without us, there would be no Games. No person to symbolize their undying power through.

That's what I was being wary for: the force field that I was ninety-nine percent sure was there. Had I bumped into it, even the slightest bit, I would be thrown backwards with enough force to break several bones and gain a bad concussion. And, being on the narrow train, the power would definitely be strong enough to shoot me back and run into the force field on the other side, which would shoot me forward to the one I originally hit. Doesn't sound comfortable, does it?

But I was willing to risk that for just a few last minutes away from the Capitol's pleasures, away from my fated life. Even for just a moment, I could be part of the free people of whatever District we were traveling through. But, just as everything does, all things good must come to an end and I was left with my practical state of mind.

The sun rose steadily over the mountains in the backdrop of the Capitol. However, before there were tall skyscrapers and bridges stretched across the entire city. At night, I was sure all the lights from the buildings would be blinding and partying went on forever.

Yes, I had, indeed, spent the whole night on the roof of the train, staring out over the country and valley until the slightest bit of recognition struck and I realized we were soon approaching the Capitol. About fifteen minutes later, the view was much crisper; I decided slinking back into the train before the citizens could get a view of a Tribute would be wise.

I searched through the bureau and, much to my liking, found a pair of black corduroy's. I tossed on a silk, utilitarian-style black tank top with the same jacket from the previous night and divided my hair into two sections, twisting it into two buns on the lower side of my head.

The dinning space was vacant when I first entered. No food had been placed out and there was no sign that someone had come before me. I walked slowly towards the seat in which I had occupied the previous day; my mind was captivated by the artwork hanging on the walls. They were, no doubt, made by those being a citizen of the Capitol, for bright, effervescent colors were splattered every which-way across the canvas in a chaotic manner.

"I never did like those paintings in here," a voice said behind me. "In my humble opinion, they're far too bright and disorganized, not to mention they in no way match the décor."

Without turning around, I could recognize the voice of Lachlan Lyndon, standing only a few yards away from my sealed spot on the hardwood floor.

"I couldn't agree more," I responded. "You'd think they'd at least try to find pieces by their own people that are easier on the eyes. Then again, the Capitol's sense of fashion and art has never been – er – well, usual."

He took his spot at the eight-seated table. "Did you sleep alright?"

"No," I answered flatly.

"At least you're honest," he scoffed.

I lingered in my walk to my spot at the table. "When Lisette said yesterday that we were alike," I began, "what did she mean by that?"

"Did you watch the Games when you were younger?"

"I had to," I explained, "but I don't remember them in depth."

"Figures," he mumbled. "Anyway, when I took part in 49th Hunger Games, I went the entire time without an ally."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I didn't think I needed them. I thought I was better off on my own."

"And how did that work out for you?"

"Well, I'm here today, aren't I?" He leaned back in his chair. "I admit, it wasn't always the easiest thing, but in the end I think it was the best."

"And why is that?" I pried.

He shrugged. "Becoming allies with somebody means gaining a certain trust from them. Because I kept to myself, I didn't have to kill anybody I didn't want to." He then continued, "And why do you not want any allies in the arena?"

"I have troubles trusting any one person one hundred percent."

"Fair enough," he decided.

The door to the chamber compartment burst open and Roxanne bustled in. Except for the large, diamond watch on her wrist, she was dressed completely in shades of lavender and lime green.

"Chop, chop!" she sang-song. "The waiters are a little behind in the food preparation, but we'll have to eat quick once it comes. We're scheduled to be in the Capitol in a little less than half an hour!"