Oh my sweet, sweet readers. I bet you thought I forgot about you huh? Well, surprise surprise; I haven't!
No, my computer's been broken. But now it's fixed haha! I'm so happy to be writing again! I think I might start crying… okay I'm not that emotional, but I did cry once because I made the most amazing truffles the world had ever seen by my own recipe. Hey…I was a little hormonal. Haha, okay, tmi but just as an advanced heads-up: even with my computer working I'm not going to be able to update as often as I'd like. I have a crazy school schedule this year so you can expect maybe one or two chapters every one or two weeks:P
love you guys! And oh how I've missed you!
Chapter 39(this is getting terribly long, isn't it?)
An echoing pounding rings through my head like a bad hang-over. I clench my pillow over my head to block out the pesky noise trying to interrupt my sleep. The nuisance persists. "Nick, Nick!" the short nasally words of Lindy-Lou, the district escort, sound through my bedroom walls, "Nick, I already let you sleep in fifteen minutes! Come out and eat already!" she sounds like she's reaching the point of irritation in her nagging; now she knows how I feel with the rum-dum-dum of her rhythmic knocks.
I let out the loudest groan I can manage to let her know I'm awake. I jam my head out of the pillow's encasing and let my head fall quite harshly in contrast to the soft down of the luxury pillows. I stare up at the ceiling and give a heavy sigh. I muster up all the strength I never knew I possessed and pull myself up out of bed. I let out a shiver as the crisp morning air greets my bare chest. You think a city as wealthy as the Capitol would invest in heaters.
I pick up the crumpled gray v-neck I'd worn just a day or two ago at my reaping and pull it over my head. I scratch at a loose thread but quickly loose interest. This is my favorite t-shirt in the whole world for the sole reason that it's Prim's favorite t-shirt in the whole world. I remember our playful arguments over who would get to wear it in our mornings back at 4. It feels so long ago…
I let my eyes drift to the clock. It reads 9:15 but for all I care, it could be two in the morning. I try to think how late I stayed up last night. I think I came in around 6?
I had found a way to sneak out of my room and Prim and I had spent the night on the rooftop, huddled in each other's arms, talking whatever comes to our minds. Turns out Prim had crazy cravings of chocolate covered ham that had been lasting for three days. As I would never let Prim back in a kitchen after the cooking class finals, I discreetly whipped her up a batch of chocolate covered ham in the kitchen of the District 12 floor level. She ate every last bite and applauded my cooking expertise with a comment of "When we're married, I'll let you cook for me and the kids." Then we both looked at our feet awkwardly as one of us, and I know and surely wish it's me, will be dead in a matter of weeks, Prim broke down crying, shut herself in her room, and I came back to my room after I made sure she fell asleep through the locked door. Once alone, I even allowed myself a couple of, very manly let me assure you, tears. Yes, I cry manly tears.
I open the door and see Lindy-Lou standing in the hallway waiting for me. She has on a short, skin-hugging black bandage looking dress. Then neckline comes down in a low v-neck, exposing nearly half of her fake, plastic breasts. She looks surprisingly tall this morning as I remember her last night to be of a petite figure. Then I notice she has on leopard print 6-inch heels. The design of the shoes flash me back to the night of "big entertainment", my group of friends and I running through the districts, sneaking onto the train, and ultimately the sight of Maple's lifeless body as she was murdered in cold-blood.
Lindy-Lou flashes me back to reality, "You're wearing that shirt again?"
I look down at the shirt, never wanting to forget all the memories it carries with it, "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"
"Did you even see the outfit we had hung up for you?" She keeps her elbow rested on her hip as she points one long, slender finger to my room behind me.
I was distracted by the obnoxiously bright red polish of her nails but eventually found the will power to look behind myself. On a hanger hanging on the outside of my closet was a pair of designer jeans and a light pinkish-purple v-neck. I cringed, "Er, I'm not really one of those guys big on wearing pink."
She roles her eyes and pushes past me into my room. She grabs the girlish fabric with one hand and motions toward it with the other, "It's periwinkle." She begins taking it off the hanger all the while murmuring under her breath just loud enough to make sure I hear, "Stupid boys, don't know fashion let alone how to tell pink from periwinkle."
She finally frees the cloth from the hanger and throws it at me. I catch it with my left hand. She sashays past me and tosses a lock of beach waved brown locks, a style usually only rocked by District 4 residents, "Get dressed and meet me and Nahla in the kitchen for breakfast."
I carefully pull the grey shirt off myself. I stare at the cloth in my hands. I hold it to my face and breathe it in deeply. It still smells of Prim from her overuse of it. I lay it down at the foot of my bed and kick off my jeans.
I pull the Capitol's shirt on, "Periwinkle," I say, mimicking a Capitol accent. I grab at the designer jeans on the hanger and walk out the door while still pulling them on. I reach the end of the hallway just as I finish putting them on. "Good morning everybody," I say with a ridiculously large smile. I nod to Nahla sipping at a mug of hot cocoa.
She smirks into her glass, "Sounds like someone got laid." I blush excessively. She, of all people, know that's not what happened. Still, I stutter over my response. "Relax Nicole," I ease the tension in my shoulders to her girlish nickname, "I know it was nothing of the sort." Her eyes flash across the room and Lindy Lou pushes into the bathroom probably to check herself out for the fourteenth time this morning, "All I was saying was you got in late last night."
I relax into my chair and grab a lemon glazed muffin, "Yeah, Prim and I were hanging out." She spits out her drink in an eruption of laughter. "Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter!." She tries miserably to control herself, "Wow we're real mature," I say with an air of sarcasm but soon I am laughing too.
Lindy Lou steps back into the dining hall readjusting her breasts and with a fresh coat of a hot pink lipstick on, "Are you two done eating yet?" she asks with disgust. You can totally tell all she's thinking about is the calories we're putting in our bodies, "We're supposed to be to training by ten."
Nahla and I both stare at her blankly, then, deliberately ignoring her, turn back to our plates of food.
"It's already 9:30!" she explodes.
Nahla and I share quizzical looks across the table then turn our confusion towards our escort. Really, how long does an elevator ride take?
"I want you there early," she says in a slow tone like we're idiots that can't understand anything. She gives a wave of her perfectly groomed hands, "Com'n we're going," upon the lack of movement on our part she adds, "NOW!"
Nahla and I each grab another muffin and follow our district escort down the hall where we wait for the elevator. There's a semi-awkward silence from Lindy Lou as Nahla and I both busy our mouths with the muffins. There's a completely awkward silence, however, as the brother and sister of District 3 join us on the elevator.
I can see the boy shifting uncomfortably from side to side as the girl stands in hush. He opens his mouth on several occasions but shuts it before saying anything each time.
"Mondays," Nahla rolls her eyes, putting everyone out of their misery. She even gets a small laugh out of the District 3 escort.
"Just the start of a long week," the sister says, "For Friday: we die." I think she is being serious but the darkness of her tone raises a laugh out of all the tributes, including a shy scoff from her. The escorts just look pale at so morbid a topic.
The sister is tall and lean. She wears an expensive looking jean jacket over a cheap t-shirt I can tell is from her home district. The designer paired with the common must have been the compromise as she fought with her own escort about her wardrobe much like I did this morning. She stands confidently but not all together open to interaction with other people. She keeps her eyes fixed straight ahead, calmly waiting for the elevator doors to open. She doesn't even look away when she or anybody else speaks. Her jaw is rigid and made visible by her dark hair being pulled back into a high pony tail, a single natural curl to the whole mass. Her eyebrows pull together softly like she's always thinking about… something.
The doors open. She begins to step outside. Her brother, older by what looks about two years, puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. She almost indiscreetly shrugs it off with a turn of her upper body to look to the other gathering tributes but I can still tell she put thought into it, even if it was subconsciously. There's some sort of twisted angst between the siblings that has yet to be resolved.
"Come on you little sex demon, the elevator doors won't wait forever." I follow Nahla into the training center.
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