Author's Note: I haven't updated in quite awhile, unfortunately, but school got in the way. However, here's a new chapter; I'm trying to make these gradually longer so you all will get more from each update. Reviews would be much appreciated, and thanks for reading. (:
The Train
I wake up refreshed from a well-deserved sleep in a luxurious train car; the sheets that envelop me are soft as silk against my body – I just want to stay here all day. However, this thought of mine is immediately interrupted by the sharp rap on my door, proceeded by Effie's cheerful greeting: "Time to get up, Peeta! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"
Stretching, I grope out of bed, rubbing my eyes. I walk weary-eyed to the bathroom where I go about all necessary hygienic procedures without having to take too long, and I then exit my bedroom car and head toward the dining car. When I arrive, Effie is the only one at the table as of yet; she has adopted an impatient sort of look, but it brightens considerably when she notices me. I guess she's glad that both of her tributes won't be extremely tardy today.
"Good morning, Peeta! Sleep well?" she asks happily.
"Yes, thank you," I respond politely. I've decided it's a good idea to make a suitable impression with Effie; she means well with her job.
I take a seat next to Effie, and Katniss enters the room as I take a roll from the center of the table. She's dressed in a dark green tunic, which complements her eyes perfectly. If only I had the courage to tell her.
She chooses a seat as far away from me as possible; did I do something wrong? She avoids my gaze, taking a roll as well.
Haymitch finally comes to breakfast after a couple of minutes of awkward silence. Good. Maybe he'll disrupt this quiet atmosphere. And I'd like to have a word or two with him about the Games; the reality of the situation finally settled into my system last night, and nervousness has penetrated my usually mellow being. Haymitch seems to be one of the only options I have for comfort at this point.
However, he isn't in much of a mood to talk. Hobbling over to a chair next to Katniss, he slumps into his seat, with his hands clamped around a drink that I can safely assume isn't water. Great, he's going to be drunk for this entire process, isn't he?
I search the table of food spread before me, looking for a drink for myself. I spy a brown, steaming liquid, hoping for tea. But when I pour a cup of it and let the liquid slide down my throat, I discover it has a sweet taste, equivalent to the chocolate-flavored sweet rolls we bake at home. In attempt to recreate this memory, I dunk part of my breakfast roll in the drink, and it tastes of home. At least I can hold on to a simple memory like this, even though it's not much.
Effie and Haymitch hold a whispered conversation for a few minutes, while Katniss and I sit in silence. Her gaze rests on the center of the table, while mine is unconsciously fixated on her face. She turns to me, and suddenly I realize that I'm staring at her; I quickly look the other way, and dunk my bread in the chocolate drink again.
Effie stands and leaves the train car to question the conductor about our whereabouts and schedule, and Haymitch directs his attention towards Katniss and I. I give Haymitch full eye contact, but out of my peripherals I see Katniss dip her own breakfast roll into the chocolate liquid she had poured for herself. Smiling slightly, I listen to Haymitch's first words to us.
"So, if you two didn't already know, it's my job to mentor you two in the Games-" Haymitch begins.
"Obviously," Katniss says suddenly. Haymitch's eyes glint deviously, and he whips his head toward Katniss.
"Well, well, well, aren't you a smart-mouth, sweetheart?"
Katniss stares Haymitch square in the eyes, unwilling to drop her gaze. Attempting to break the silence, I ask timidly, "so, Haymitch, have any tips for the arena?"
"Stay alive," he responds bluntly.
That's it? That is not the type of advice I need. I charge at Haymitch, ready to put some sense into that drunken head of his; I have his arms pinned behind his back when a knife soars past his head into the wall behind him. Surprised, I turn to Katniss to see her arm still arced in a follow-through. Looking slightly ashamed, she ducks her head down and stares at her roll, her face burning.
However, Haymitch doesn't seem angry. In fact, he's smiling rather broadly.
"You two, stand in front of me, right there," he whispers, still grinning.
Katniss and I walk to his front, standing shoulder to shoulder. He stands as well and begins circling us, examining us for who knows what qualities. I feel a bit discomforted by the fact that Haymitch is staring me up and down, but I feel safe again when I notice Katniss's steady breath, realizing I'm not alone.
"Well, well, well…" Haymitch whispers, "…looks like we may have a couple of contenders this year."
He falls back into his seat again, giving both of us a rather eager grin. I think the alcohol is molding his emotions, because I've never seen Haymitch this happy before. Luckily, his somewhat creepy smile disappears as Effie rushes back into the car. From what I can tell, these two don't get along very well.
"The conductor informed me that we're making good time, just so you all know. Now, I think this is a good time to go through the schedule!" Effie says encouragingly. She runs through it rather quickly, but I don't pay much attention. I'm too busy chancing glances at Katniss when she's not looking.
"…And as soon as we get there-" Effie says.
"Let me take it from here; you've done wonderfully," Haymitch tells her, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Effie doesn't seem to pick up on this sarcasm, however. "Okay, listen up, you two," he begins rather abruptly, "when we arrive, you both will be provided with a prep team and a stylist, to make you look…'presentable' for the days to come. Even if you don't agree with their artistic decisions, I want no backtalk, and no disagreement. We want your teams to actually like you, so they'll want to work in your favor. Understand?"
Katniss nods, and so do I. But almost instantly, I'm struck by fright about what these stylists are planning to do to us. In general, tributes are dressed in accordance to their district's profession. Since District 12 is the coal-mining district, its tributes are usually dressed in black and covered in coal dust. Well, this should be fun.
"Here we are!" exclaims Effie, pointing at the window. When I follow her finger, I am blown away by the brightness outside of the window. Every color of the rainbow gleams back at me, and there are some of the strangest people I've ever seen, sporting tinted skin tones, whisker-covered faces, and jewel-encrusted limbs. My heart begins to beat rather quickly; am I going to look like one of them when my prep team is finished with me?
Suddenly, I realize that this is the perfect time to develop some charm in the eyes of potential sponsors. I approach the window, adopt the best smile I can, and begin waving at the voluminous crowd. Screams of delight penetrate the train walls, and my smile grows larger. I turn around to see what everyone else thinks of this; Effie and Haymitch are beaming, and Katniss is scowling as if she just shot at a deer and missed. Yikes.
I face the window and start waving again. This little attempt at gaining sponsors won't hurt anything, right?
"That's a smart boy, that is," I hear Haymitch say from behind. Then there's a stomping, a door opening, and a slam. Surprised by the noise, I turn again to see that Katniss has disappeared from the room. Effie hurries after her to make her come back, since we're almost to our destination.
Eventually, the train gradually begins to slow down, and we stop at a marble white station, where an enormous crowd is assembled. Thriving on adrenaline, I exit the train behind Haymitch, with Katniss trailing in the rear. The Capitol citizens emit an overwhelming roar of enthusiasm over the District 12 tributes, dissolving some of my nervousness. Effie shuffles us over to a looming, white marble building where she and Haymitch drop off Katniss and I to be tended to by our prep teams and stylists.