In my head I scream, "No!," but on my face you can't tell that I don't want this. I give a confident look, one that looks like I'm honored, because in reality I should be. But I'm not. I reach the top of the stage. The crowd is cheering loudly for me, so Mace Medallion has to wait before he asks, "Would anyone like to volunteer and take Clove Coleman's place as the female tribute for District 2?" When no one responds he asks one more time to be sure, but no one volunteers. The mayor takes over from there and begins to read the Treaty of Treason, but I don't pay attention. I'm too busy trying to maintain my Strong demeanor, while thinking about how I don't want to have to go against Cato; but there's nothing I can do, so I will just have to accept that fact.

Cato is my ex, well not officically since we never actually broke up, but a couple months back we stopped interacting with one another. It was a mutual thing. Or at least I think it was. Cato was going to volunteer for the Games and since there was the possibility that I could be reaped, we didn't want things to be complicated; even though they will be anyways. We stopped having any contact, so we could forget about the other faster. It was a mutual thing, but it might have just been me, since we never actually discussed these things. It might have just been me hoping to ease the pain if he did die. But I don't think anything can do that. I had it all planned out, too. How I would see Cato before he left. Give him a kiss, a hug, and tell him to go and kick some ass. But no, now I'm a tribute and one of us will die. It doesn't feel fair, but that's how things are.

Once the mayor finishes the Treaty of Treason he has Cato and I shake hands. His hand is strong and too familiar. I try my best to give him a look of, "you're dead," so he knows I plan on winning the Games. The look Cato gives me is strong and confident and I know he plans on winning, too, but I can't let that happen. I have to win, even if that means killing someone I care deeply about. One of the only two people I care about.

We turn and face the crowd. They're cheering loudly and I can barely hear the anthem of Panem playing in the background. Once the barely audible anthem finishes we are escorted by my father and other Peacekeepers into the Justice Building and into our separate rooms. The room has a crimson carpet, and velvet couches and chairs that match.

I sit there only a few minutes before my father comes in. I expect him to look proud. And he should be too. After all his daughter is going to be the victor of the 74th Hunger Games. But instead he looks...saddened? It confuses me for a moment, but I decide it's because of the possibility of losing me that saddens him. That this could be the last time he sees me, so I pardon him for his inability to hold back a weak emotion. I've been taught to be Strong so I hold others to that standard as well. My father immediately starts talking stategy with me. Things to remember, things to do, who to align with, when to turn my back on them, and above all: Kick everyone's ass and come home. A Peacekeeper comes to the door, it's time for my father to go. He pulls me into a hug and whispers, "I'm sorry Clove." Sorry for what? Me becoming a victor? The hug lasts for a few more seconds, my father is obviously cherishing this moment and I let him, afterall this could be the last time he sees me. Before he pulls away he whispers one more thing in my ear, "don't forget who you are." He puts a necklace with three throwing knives dangling in front of the District 2 seal in my right hand, and then walks out the door.

How could I forget who I am? I'm Clove Coleman. Nothing can take that away from me. I've heard that the Games change people, but how can it change someone who's meant for it. Meant to Kill. Meant to Win.

My uncle Cleav walks in. He's a big tough guy and a past Hunger Games victor. "Listen," he says and I do. When he speaks you listen. "I'm not gonna waste your time telling you all about strategy. There's just one thing I want you to do." Every part of my attention is on him. He's won before, so he's gotta have some solid points and strategic plans. "Don't take Cato to Final 2 with you. He'll be a good ally, but kill him before it's too late. It's your best chance at winning." Hmph, I don't know what he's talking about. I can take Cato. Easily. "I mean it. So get your head outta your ass and listen to me. If you take Cato to the end with you, then you're as good as dead. Do you wanna win or not?"

"Yes, I wanna win and I will win," I say to him confidently.

"Then do as I say."

"I will."

"Good. I expect to see you in a month and not in a wooden box, either." With that Uncle Cleav exits the room. I sit for about a minute until another person comes to talk to me.

This time it's my friend Trix. She's weaker than me. Hell, most people are weaker than me. Trix, however, would have made a great tribute. She is strong, skillful, and sadistic. Like me. Only weaker.

"Thought I'd drop in and say good luck."

"Like I'll need it," I scoff. I needed luck earlier, but not anymore.

"Kill some tributes for me."

"You know I will."

"Oh and one last thing."

"Yeah?"

"Win."

"Plan on it."

Trix gives me a quick hug before saying, "see ya around," and walking out. Did she really just hug me? I can't believe she just hugged me. It's one thing for my father to hug me, but her? It's just too weird.

Shortly after Trix's strange action, I am taken from the Justice Building and brought to the train station, along with Cato. Soon we are both on the train, which begins moving at once. At 250 miles per hour we will be at the Capitol in two hours. Max. Mace Medallion shows us to our rooms. He says that everything is at my disposal and that we will watch the recap of the reapings at the Capitol. I spend most of that thinking about Cato.

I first met Cato five months before the 72nd Hunger Games. It was after one of my training sessions. I had just walked out of the women's shower room and turned the corner when I ran straight into Cato.

"Get outta my way," I lashed out.

He smirked and said, "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Fuck off," I said, my voice radiating hatred and coldness.

I shouldered past Cato, and heard him say, "a fiesty one."

The next time I saw him was at the training center two weeks later. I finished my session and opened the door to leave, but there he was standing in my way.

"I believe we've met before," he said.

"And I believe I told you to fuck off."

"What did you say you're name was?"

"I didn't."

"I can stand here all day," he challenged.

"I can kill you in two seconds," I countered.

"I'd like to see that happen."

"It's on."

And with that I turned around and he followed. Once we were both near the center of the gym, I spun on my heel and threw the first punch, but he knew it was coming. He grabbed my fist and flipped me on the ground. I jumped up. He swung hard. I bent back, his fist grazed above my face. I straightened. He sent his other hand in an uppercut. I jumped back, but with his long arm span his right hand jab hit me. He went for another quick jab, but I ducked. I came up fast and hard, my fist connecting with his jaw. He staggered back a step. My quick jab smacked his face. He caught my next fist and sent me to the ground again, but I quickly rose.

Our fight continued for another fifteen minutes, both of us landing many hard blows on the other, but I took much more of a beating. Finally, Cato was able to pin me down on the ground. We both had blood all over, everywhere on my body ached, but I wouldn't let myself think about that at all. I couldn't, I wasn't a weakling, and now was not a time for that.

"Looks like I won," he said with a smug look. He wasn't careful, not anymore at least, since he won. I was able to knee him in the balls, flip him on his back, and put one of my hidden knives at his neck in one fluent motion.

"I could end your life right now if I wanted to," I hissed. I knew that I had truly lost that match, and I hated and still hate losing. He was the strongest opponent I ever had and I had to prove I was Stronger. Tougher. Better.

"Then do it," he snarled.

It didn't feel like me when I said, "how 'bout this. You help me become stronger and I'll let you live." It sounded weak. Not me. It wasn't me. But I said it.

"That's what your trainer is for," he growled. It's true that is what my trainer is for, but she wouldn't let me fight against the stronger, older male trainees. Something about me being snapped like a twig. Whatever.

"Listen, you either agree to helping me become stronger, or I will slice your neck right now."

"Fine! I'll help you!" he barked at me.

"Good," I said getting up off of him.

We decided that we would keep our training sessions together a secret and meet only once a week. It was then that I looked around and realized we were completely alone in the gym. There were no trainers, which means Cato didn't have a session right now like I had thought. I was about to ask him why he was here, but when I turned to face him, he was gone. And I still have never asked him.

We would meet on Wednesdays at 1:00 in the morning, so no one would know about our secret arrangement. At first we would just meet for an hour and spar, but after a month of this we actually started to talk about our families.

"So,do you have any siblings?"

"No, it's just me and my father. What about you?"

"What about your mother?"

"I don't have one."

"You don't have a mother? Of course you do."

"I told you, I don't have one."

"Did something happen to her?"

"Listen, I don't have a mother. Never did. Never will."

"Okay."

After a moment of silence I continued the conversation. "You never told me if you had any siblings."

"I've got a little brother, Cain is his name."

"What's he like?"

"Innocent, like we all were at that age."

Soon, though, I opened up and trusted him with a secret of mine, and he trusted me with a secret of his. Our hour sparring session turned into a two hour thing. One hour for sparring. One hour for talking. He was still that guy I told to fuck off, but there was something different. Something more about him. Something new, something...good. He was someone I could talk to now. Someone who I felt would listen to whatever I said. He was someone I felt I could trust. The only person I felt I could trust. The only person who I actually wanted to know me. Sure, Trix was my friend, but we were more like partners in crime. We didn't actually know each other, and I didn't want her to know me. But there was something about Cato that made me want to open up. And because of that every once in a while I would skip a sparring session. Cato never questioned why, though.

And then one day, a couple months after the 72nd Hunger Games were over, we were sparring and I was able to pin Cato down. I held my arm down tightly on his neck for six seconds before letting up.

"You're Dead," I announced happy that I won for once. I was Strong. Stronger than Cato. I won. He lost. I proved my dominance. I was victorious.

Cato, catching his breath managed to choke out, "if I'm dead...then I can...do whatever I want." What happened next caught me by surprise. Cato, his hands not being restrained, grabbed my face and pulled his lips to mine. At first I was shocked. Stunned. But then I kissed back and he let go. He looked in my eyes and asked, still out of breath, "is that a...yes to being my...girlfriend?" I didn't say yes or no, I just crashed my lips down on his, but we both knew what I ment. If you think about it, we never were actually a couple.

It's when Mace Medallion tells me we have reached the Capitol that I realize I've been sitting on my bed, clutching the necklace my father gave me and have probably been like that for the whole two hours.

CATO'S POV

Mace Medallion shows me to my room and says that I should be able to find anything I could possibly want right now within it. But that's a lie, because I want a person here with me, and the person I want isn't here. No, instead she's in her own room plotting how to kill me. I saw that look she gave me. How someone so beautiful and seemingly seraphic could be so evil, I'll never know. But that's part of the reason I fell in love with her, I guess. The other part is because she is so independent. She doesn't need anyone, not even me. But I want her to need me. You could say she needed me to become stronger, but really she could have used anyone to help her with that. I was a tool she just tossed aside when she was finished using me. She does something to me, something I just don't understand. Somehow when I'm with her, I get weaker. I'm still really strong. I can break a man's jaw easily, but hers I can't. I never lose, except the few times she has beaten me. She gets stronger when she fights me, too. It's the urgency to beat me, I think. To prove she doesn't need me, but I want her to need me.