Bold - Joseph
Bold and Italic - Ratty

A/N I'm so sorry to Graan's submitter that we listed him wrong. His name on the top of the form was Granne, but it must have been a typo or something. I've changed it on the blog, and I'm very sorry. Someone also asked about the order. We really don't have any District-based pattern; we've chosen 8 tributes for pre-reapings, 8 for reapings, and 8 for train rides.

A/N And I'm so sorry for the delay! It was entirely my fault. I got the flu and couldn't even move let alone write a story. I only hope you're not that angry with me...

Chapter Three

Graan Sepere, District Nine Male Citizen, 18 Years Old

Four days before the Reaping

Rrrrriiiiinnnnngggg!

The bell rings, marking the end of the school day and the beginning of the work day. I quickly pack up my books and leave the school building. When I step out of the school, I see that my friend Orion is already waiting outside.

"Hey," he calls, walking over, "What's up?"

"Pretty good. How do you always get here so fast? The bell rang like a minute ago."

"It's not that hard. I just don't linger like you do."

I look up at the bright blue sky. "Man, it's hot today. We should be getting to work."

"Yeah, we should."

As we walk, I take in the beautiful day. The fields of grain are waving in the breeze, golden against the blue cloudless sky. I notice a group of girls whispering and pointing in this direction. I look over my shoulder, try to see what they're staring at.

"What," Orion says.

"Just trying to see what everyone else is looking at."

He laughs. "They're looking at you!"

"Why me?"

"I've told you this a million times! Everyone's always looking at you!"

"And I still deny it," I say, watching him laugh, "There's no reason for me to be the center of attention!"

"But you are. Don't be so oblivious. Have you seen the way the girls look at you?"

"No," I say, rubbing my neck.

"Well they always do."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

We continue walking, and soon, the office, where we check in, comes into sight. It's a drab building, surrounded by large fields of grain on all sides.

"Bet I can beat you to the office," Orion says, a mischievous grin on his face.

"How much?"

"Umm... Five dollars? I'd bet more, but I need the money."

"You're on."

I crouch, preparing to sprint.

"3…2…1…" he says, "Go!"

I press forward, running as fast as I can, focusing on the target. Dust from the dry ground flies into the air. The building rapidly grows larger. Almost there… almost there… Just when I think I'm about to win, he zooms ahead.

"Beat you – again," he says, grinning.

"You were always faster," I say, smiling, "I know I have a few dollars in my bag… aha. Got it." I hand over the money with a flourish. "Five dollars."

We go inside to check in. My dad, the manager, sits inside, working at paperwork. When we open the door, he looks up.

"G'day, Mr. Sepere," Orion says, "How's it going?"

"It's fine, thank you. It's been dry, so be careful."

"We will," we say. We sign in, pick up our tools, and leave the building. Today, we're cutting the barley. Others will come behind us to pick up the barley. We talk as we work.

"So the Games are coming soon," Orion says. A cloud seems to cover everything at the word "Games."

"Yeah. You worried?"

"Just a bit," he says, "Are you?"

"I should be fine. I have how many slips? 7? I've never taken out tesserae."

"You're right, but it's still worrying. Are you sponsoring again this year?"

"Yep. I'm going to do that every year."

"You know," he says, "That bit you have isn't much."

"I know, but if I were Reaped, I'd want to know that people at home were supporting me. So I try to support the tributes every year."

"True, true."

We work silently for a bit longer. All of a sudden, I think I smell… smoke. I stand up straight and look around. There, on the other end of the field, a small pluke of smoke is rising. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

"Let's go," Orion says, "You know what we need to do. Graan. Graan! Get yourself under control. You're shaking."

"I- I'm fine. Yeah, yeah, let's go."

Orion begins to holler and yell, telling everyone to leave the field. It's a fire. Images of a charred body float through my head. No, no. Get yourself under control, Graan, get yourself under control. I pinch myself to bring myself back to reality.

I stand up straight and shout, "Turn on the irrigation. I'll turn the water on on this side. Orion, you get the other."

I run through the field, the stalks of grain snapping and brushing against my bare legs. I'm ruining some of it, but if the fire isn't put out, we'll lose everything. I grasp the knob in my hand and turn as hard as I can. Water begins to shoot out from the sprinkler heads in the ground, spraying everything and everyone with water. Slowly, the fire dies down before it eventually disappears. I walk to the burnt area to survey the damage. When I get there, my foot hits a large chunk of wood, glistening with an oily liquid. Gasoline. Someone did this on purpose.

"What did you find?" Orion says, coming up behind me.

"Look," I say, pointing to it. He sighs.

"This isn't an isolated case. Yesterday, there was another fire on the other side of the town. It burned down everything."

"I know."

"Who do you think did this?"

"I dunno. Those troublemakers from school? No idea."

"At least we saved half of the barley," he says, looking around at the grain still standing. It contrasts with the black, charred remains of the scorched barley.

"Yeah, we should get back to work."

Quinoa 'Quin' Farro, District Nine Female Citizen, 18 Years Old

Four days before the Reaping.

The classroom is awfully quiet today. The teacher didn't even enter the room yet and still, no one laughs, no one attempts to crack a joke, no one makes conversation with their desk mates. I frown as I look around. The atmosphere is too sober for my liking. Something was up today, I could feel it. And not just because Reaping Day was nearing.

The room slowly begins to fill. As I muse over the behavior of my class, I hear someone dropping their books on the desk behind me forcefully. I turn around, and smile at the fair-haired boy.

„Hey, Glen!"

„Hey, Quin!" He flashes me a smile and sits down. It is so refreshing to see someone in such a good mood. „Hey, what's wrong?"

„What do you mean?"

„You are scowling."

„Oh..." It does not surprise me that he noticed. Glen is not only my best friend, but my cousin too. I've known him ever since I was born. Our friendship has deep roots, we know each others habits, preferences, and we notice with ease if something is bothering the other. „Haven't you noticed? Everyone is acting rather strange today."

Glen raises an eyebrow at my statement, and looks around himself. „Oh, that? It's nothing, really. We are going to have an inspection. From what I've heard, the Mayor himself is going to-"

SLAM!

The door slams against the wall. Everyone turns their heads to the front, as Mr. Wheat enters the classroom, with an other person close on his tail. The Mayor. We instantly stand up, greeting the two men.

Without the teacher noticing, I turn towards Glen, and whisper: „Was I the only one who didn't know about this!?"

I stretch my arms above my head. The first class wasn't so bad after all. Nor were the other six following after. The presence of the Mayor didn't make any difference, really. Mr. Wheat was just as strict as usual. After the third period, seeing that there was nothing to be afraid of, my classmates started to regain their ability to laugh. By the end of the seventh period, we were just as loud as always.

„What a day!" I grin as I gather my books and notebooks. Glen just laughs and winks at me. He purposefully didn't tell me about the Mayor's visit. „It's not funny!"

„Yes, it is. You should've seen your face! Was I the only one who didn't know about this!?" he says, unsuccessfully imitating my voice.

„Stop that!"

„Nope."

„Stop!"

„Nope."

„Okay, now this is getting ridiculous..." I sigh , giving up.

I grab my belongings and shaking my head, I exit the classroom leaving him by himself. Even as I walk down the hall, I can still hear his roaring laugh.

It bothers me. No, it annoys me. Why did he do that? Making me feel like a fool, totally left out... Just because I simply didn't know about the Mayor's visit. Normally, we would fool other people together. It's our hobby. But God, messing with your own partner in crime? That's just not right!

As I'm fuming over Glen's actions, I storm down the road towards my home. I don't really watch where I'm going, so it's no surprise when I bump into someone.

„Huh!" The girl stumbles backwards, but doesn't fall.

„Sorry." When I look at the 16 years old, I immediately recognize her as Maize. She works part time in my family's industry.

We, the Farro, do not work as simple croppers or sowers. We specialize in something much different. My family owns the largest Whiskey distillery in the district. Some of the citizens despise what we do. Maybe because we don't stuck with the district's main industry. But others simply accept that we are different, and even ask for part-time jobs. And Maize was one of the latter.

„Oh. Maize, it's you."

„Hello, Quinoa."

„What are you doing here?" I raise an eyebrow.

„I was actually looking for you."

„For me?"

„Yes. Your parents summoned a meeting. All of the workers must attend. They sent me to get you and Glen."

I stare at her for a couple of moments, before I blurt out: „Don't worry, I'll announce him. Just go back, and tell them that we are going to be there in a couple of minutes."

Maize nods her head, and walks away hurriedly. The moment she disappears from my field of vision, a smirk cracks on my lips.

You know the saying: An eye for an eye.
Well, in this case: A concealed information for a concealed information.

Questions:

What do you think of Graan? How much of a contender do you think he is?

What do you think of Quin and her "An eye for an eye." philosophy?

Which do you like better? Why?