Cato and I didn't really talk for a long time after our two kisses.
And it still freaks me out that I can say kisses, plural. Or even at all.
Sure, we talked at the CTF or during our training, but it wasn't like it had been.
To be honest, I really didn't know what to think of him anymore.
He had broken down my walls and let himself inside my heart, and there was very little I could do to get him to leave.
He tended to have that effect on people.
The next time I saw him was on Reaping day.
I had just turned 15 and he was 17, almost 18.
Today was his day; the day in which he would volunteer.
"Clove" he nodded at me as he saw me in my black and red Reaping dress. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit with a mint green bow-tie. He tried to meet my gaze, but I quickly averted my eyes.
"Ladies and gentleman! Welcome, welcome!" a voice called from the stage.
"We'd better go" I mumbled, as I quickly shuffled away from Cato and went to join the other girls. This was going to be an especially tremulous year. It was the first in a quarter of a century that District 2 was not going to have a volunteer female tribute. Charlotte, the star-kid of the female tributes, had broken her legs in a terrible training accident only a few weeks ago and was unable to compete.
"Welcome to the 74th Annual Reaping for the Hunger Games!" Smithon Asher bellows over the microphone. He was a tall, skinny man with wild purple hair and a curly Capitol mustache who regularly escorted the D2 tributes to the Games. He then began with the usual monologue about what an honor is it to represent your district and all the other things that people are frankly tired of hearing.
"Now, shall we mix it up a bit this year and start with the gentlemen?" Smithon declared as the roars from the audience shatter the sound barrier. He barely had a chance to get his hand over the large gold cup in which the names of the children of the district were placed when a loud voice boomed resonated over everyone.
"I volunteer" Cato said, as he began to walk up to the stage.
Well, that was no surprise. Everyone knew that this was Cato's year. He was to turn 18 in 3 days, and then the Games would really be his.
"Ahh, well congratulations young man!" Smithon beamed as he firmly grasped Cato's hand and shook it. Cato grinned, a relaxed expression crossing over his face as he stood, waiting to see what unlucky District 2 girl would be called.
"Let's see, let's see" Smithon said, once again running a hand over a large golden goblet. However, this time he reached in and pulled out a small black piece of paper, sealed shut with the name of the second District 2 tribute.
"Clove Parks" he called as he looked out into the audience in search of the girl. There is some unhappy murmur mixed in with the usual excitement of the crowd, and it confuses me. The Games are something to celebrate in our district. The unrest is concerning until, wait.
No.
It couldn't be.
"Clove Parks" he squinted into the audience again, and I am frozen.
I'm not exactly sure how, but my feet begin to move and pretty soon I am walking up to the front of the stage to meet Cato. On his face lies an expression of shock, of anger, and of sadness. The audiences reactions now make sense to me. Many of them know that we're friends, or rather that we're friendly. I'm sure they're also sad to see two of the most promising District 2 tributes go in the same year, where only one of us will be allowed to return.
"Congratulations young lady! And that concludes our festivities for the day! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor" Smithon concludes as the electricity to his mic is shut off. He looks back and forth between me and Cato, a disappointing expression crossing his face. Maybe it is because he has seen us together, in previous years, or maybe he just had some bad coffee today.
Cato and I make our way back to the rooms where our families will greet us, the two Career tributes from District 2.
"Clove" Cato started, but before he could finish I was in his arms and he was hugging me.
"Shhh, it's okay" he muttered to me as he holds me tight. Without him, I am sure that I would have fallen apart.
"I'm sorry, Cato. This whole... thing. It's stupid" I mumbled as I buried my face deeper into his muscular chest.
"Don't worry about it" he said as he kissed my forehead, not letting go of me.
The doors open and in steps 6 figures, though I cannot make out who they are from the shadows in which they stand. When recognition finally sets in on me, I immediately break away from Cato when I see the disproval on both of our parents' and our mentors faces.
Looks like I've already made my first mistake of the Games.
A Note From The Author:
Thank you to all who keep coming back for more!
(Because I haven't the slightest idea as to why you do...)