There was food everywhere.
Fluffy pastries on the sideboards. Miniature desserts on a tiered tray. Apples, oranges, grapes overflowing out of silver bowls.
We could have gorged ourselves until we puked and still not eaten all the food in sight.
Su and I, we'd been lucky. My mother's income as a Victor ensured we never went truly hungry. I'd never had to take tesserae, putting in my name an extra time for the pittance which was a year's allowance of grain and oil for one person.
That didn't mean our bellies didn't growl in the lean winters. I learned to hunt and forage to supplement our food supplies.
Bumi had, multiple times for multiple family members. By his last Reaping, twenty slips of paper bore his name. After him, Kya took it two years for each of her family, adding ten slips with her name. Even Tenzin, over his siblings' and parents' protests, had taken it last year: five slips.
I'd tried to prevent it. Once Bumi had gone into the mines, I took charge of hunting for both our families. Whenever we could, Tenzin and I would dare the fence and go into the woods. We'd set traps, stalk whatever prey to be had, and gather foodstuffs. Tenzin blanched at the thought of killing, so I handled that end of the business, but he'd help me carry our game back.
We had been lucky.
Some families, every child of age took tesserae every year for every family member.
Sometimes it still wasn't enough. People still starved.
And they put this food out of as if didn't matter.
As if it could rot on it's silver platters and no one would care.
As if there weren't children just outside who risked their lives so their loved ones wouldn't starve.
My fists clenched.
Tenzin caught the movement and rested his hand on my back.
Biting my tongue, I kept my arms lowered and didn't overturn the tables.
" - and by tomorrow, we'll be in the Capitol, isn't that so exciting?" babbled Joo Dee, her pinks-streaked curls bouncing as she gestured. I wanted to punch the smile off her face.
My mother grunted before feeling her way through the car.
"Mom?" I called.
Ignoring me, she continued into the next one. A door slammed.
Joo Dee's smile didn't falter.
"You'll be a hit in the Capitol," she enthused, reaching towards me with glittery nails that seemed more like claws. I evaded her and slipped round the nearest sofa to get it between me and her. Tenzin came with me, his posture stiff.
"The daughter of a Victor, volunteering! Ah, they'll love it!"
"Up until the point where I die a bloody death," I retorted. Joo Dee froze, smile in place and hands in the air. "Oh wait, I forgot, they'll like that too. The bloodier the better, right?"
"Lin," Tenzin hissed in my ear.
The smile flickered; it returned false.
"Well, I ah, I'll just freshen up. All the excitement, you know, I -"
She fled. I watched the flounces on her skirt disappear with vicious pleasure.
"You shouldn't have done that," Tenzin said.
"Why not?" I demanded. "Should I play along? Act as if she isn't taking us to the slaughter?"
"We need her."
"She's useless, Tenzin." I crossed my arms. "You know that. She can't keep a schedule straight, she makes our Tributes look like country bumpkins, she doesn't have brains of a snail - if she were any good, she wouldn't be here."
Tenzin frowned, knowing I was right.
"She's what we have."
He was right too.
He pleaded, "Try to be nice, Lin, please." He gripped my shoulders. "Please."
Anger surged, but his fear made me force it down. "All right. I'll try. I really will."
"Thank you."
…
The food tasted like ash.
But at dinner, when Tenzin pushed his plate aside after only three forkfuls, I pushed it back.
"If you faint, you're dead and no use to me," I snapped. "We're supposed to watch out for each other."
It wasn't nice.
Nice wouldn't keep us alive.
We both finished our meals.