A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews and the favorites! It means so much! Please keep reviewing and I hope you enjoy this chapter of Ocean Blue. Also, watch out for the switch in point of view :)

**Shay's POV:

It takes me precisely one minute and twenty-six seconds to run from the Justice building to the train. I grab Sea's arm, jerking her around so I can look straight into her pale blue eyes.

""He's smart," I blurt. All the information I know about Cedar comes rushing out of my mouth like one big waterfall. "He likes science. He hates fantasy. If you can keep him safe, he can manage wounds, directions, anything really." She puts a hand out to stop me.

"Shay," my mother warns, pushing back her mop of sweaty brown hair.

I know I should take her warning to heart, but something stops me.

"I'm watching the games this year," I say coldly.

Sea's face drops like I suspect it would have if I'd volunteered.

Ever since I turned thirteen, I've wondered about the world. I started to pick out the lies in what people were telling me, and I stored them in their own little container within my head to use later. I became a storage machine. Nothing gets by me anymore, except my mother's expression. She is so focused on the future, so enveloped in the routine of her life that she won't let the past seep in. It will, though. That is inevitable. The past shapes the present, which shapes the future.

My toes curl around the cement stair as Sea thinks over my proposal. My legs feel heavy from sleep, although I have been up for over half the day.

Red pokes his head out of the train door, the wind from the engine blowing his hair every which way.

"Five minutes," he calls to my mother. She doesn't acknowledge him.

"You aren't watching," she says finally, her voice hard. She sounds as if she has made up her mind once and for all but she must know I'm not going to make it that easy.

"You can keep your past behind you," I hiss. "But you can't keep the future from me."

I can tell from the way her grasp on the railing loosens that she has lost her fleeting sense of resolution.

"Fine." Her skin grows paler and I know I am forcing her to make a difficult decision. How can she say no? The only way to keep me under her control is to take me with her and Sea Farley wants me as far away from the Capitol as possible.

"Brace yourself, Shay," is all she says before climbing onto the train. I stand limply on the curb, unable to move a muscle. I want to scream, say thank you, and make her promise to protect him. Instead I stand quietly, my entire body seemingly in hibernation.

I've always been frustrated with Sea because she tries to fit me inside a box that is too small. I have been sheltered and kept safe. I have been innocent, and suddenly, when I pushed hard enough, she is letting me out of the box and into the wind. I am free to make my own choices. Even if those choices are wrong, or unsafe, or cruel. I am free to make them.

My mother pokes her head out of the train once more, her thin lips pressed together so hard they almost don't exist.

"I'm going to try," she calls over the roaring of the wind as the train begins to pull away. She doesn't need to say more. I know that she means she'll try to save Cedar.

A promise to try is not much. It says that one will try to succeed but if they fail, oh well. I would much rather have a promise of sure success. But I am not stupid. I know that kind of promise is impossible in the games. So a promise to try is much better than no promise at all.

**Cedar's POV:

I shouldn't have kissed her. That was evident the minute she shut the door. I am leaving, I am going to die, I am never going to see her again.

"Cupcake?" Red asks me quietly, leaning over the small distance between us in the main compartment of the train.

I stare at the perfect cream cheese frosting and the candy star on top for a moment before deciding it makes me feel sick to my stomach.

"No thanks," I reply blandly. He shrugs, although his eyes say he understands. He would of course. He's a victor.

"What year were you?" I ask him, suddenly curious. I know Sea was the first victor, and Jersey Odair the second.

His eyes flit toward me quickly.

"Third," he says. I have no reason to believe he is lying, but his hand is clutching the armrest too hard, like he's holding something back. I decide it's none of my business.

"The games are different every year," Sea says loudly, stalking into the car. Brett is right behind her. Brett's hair is in a high ponytail, the end almost touching her waist. Her nose scrunches up when she walks in like she smells something bad.

"You're both sixteen, correct?" Red asks, leaning forward. He's different now, with Shay out of the picture. His eyes seem a little more free, his posture composed but loose. This is only a guess, but I would say it is because he doesn't have to worry about keeping her safe for a little while.

Brett and I nod in unison.

"My guess is you'll come across some twelve-year-olds," Sea cuts in. "And eighteen. Most years there's a solid range."

I look at my mentors, trying to see them as Shay's parents, but I can't. Not in this context, where they're only thought is on how to keep me alive. They are simply strategists for my survival.

"We need to train," Brett cuts in, slipping some black-rimmed glasses from the front pocket of her dress. "Or we won't have a chance."

If I'm not mistaken, Sea looks slightly annoyed at her comment.

"Of course. You'll train at the Capitol."

Brett nods, but still looks impatient. "But we can start now. We need ideas, tips."

Red stands up quickly, running a hand down his suit. He doesn't look flustered, like his wife, but calm.

"Don't get your panties in a jumble," he says coolly, cracking a smile at Brett. "We're going to train you up. You're going to be ready. We wouldn't have it any other way." With that, he takes Sea by the arm and leads her towards the compartment door.

"Get some food. Get some sleep. Take some time to yourselves. You've just been picked for the Hunger Games, and I can tell by your faces that it hasn't sunk in for either of you. It needs to, if you're going to have a chance." The automatic door slides shut behind them, sealing with a faint sizzling sound. We sit in silence for a few moments before Brett speaks.

"My panties are not in a jumble."

**Shay's POV:

The warmth from the heater reminds me of the bright District 4 sun at the height of summer. It leaves a tingling sensation behind, one that feels as if my entire body is glowing.

"I'm sorry about Cedar," Jersey says lightly, turning away from his bag of cheez-its. They were a popular snack when this place was known as North America. Now next to nobody eats them. Except Jersey.

"I don't want to talk about it," I say harshly. "Just turn on the TV." He picks up the sleek silver remote on the kitchen counter and points it into the next room, lighting up the screen. Nothing is happening yet, of course not, for all the tributes are still on the train. I lean against the door frame, my cheeks burning red. Whether anger or embarrassment is the cause, I'm not sure.

"Did you love my mom?" I ask quietly. It is a question I have meant to ask for many years, but never had the guts to.

He blinks at me twice, his lips turned down in surprise.

"I think so," he says finally. "A long time ago." He doesn't elaborate, and I don't ask him to.

I scuff the polished floor with my boot for a minute before speaking again.

"Did you ever kiss her?"

Jersey practically spits out his handful of crackers and stands up quickly. It's his turn to burn red.

"No," he says, avoiding my eyes. I don't miss a beat.

"You're lying."

"Fine," he spits, but I know he isn't truly mad. "I did."

For some odd reason, the thought makes me happy. Maybe it's because I know more about my mother's past than I have my entire life. Maybe it's because I know Jersey Odair had a life before this boring house in the far-east side of the district.

I am about to open my mouth and say more to this man that has a hidden past- same as my parents, when the TV screen blinks to a shot of District 1, and I know the recap of the reaping is on. My heart leaps in excitement and fear. I said I have never seen the games before, and it's true.

I've also never seen another reaping, or heard the newly appointed President Snow talk, or seen the tall buildings of the Capitol. I have never seen outside of District four, and now I am able to, if only through a television.

"Sea's really okay with this?" Jersey asks, his voice careful. I nod, waving him off, and take a seat on the edge of the couch; ready to jump up if anything is to happen.

"Welcome," a gruff voice calls and a man with blonde hair takes the stage. He is standing in a balcony, his face tinted orange with concealer, his narrow snake eyes fully displaying his disgust. Disgust for what, I'm not sure.

"That's Snow," Jersey says, taking a seat next to me. I lean on his shoulder. I don't know much about the games, but I do know I'll need Jersey there if I am to watch them.

The president begins talking, and then the camera cuts back to the districts. The escort for District 1 steps up, clad in a pink suit and heels. "Jasmine Revelin," she calls, and a girl with a blonde bob comes up, her mouth turned up in the faintest of smiles. She waves at the crowd and there is uproar of applause, as if they are proud. I frown, confused. "Jersey..." I begin.

He sighs. "District 1's tributes are careers," he starts, and soon I am leaning back into him, my eyes trained on the screen, my ears absorbing the information Jersey feeds me as if they can't get enough. Maybe they can't, after all this time. Maybe, they never will.