For a moment, I'm utterly confused. What is he doing here? That confusion is overpowered by anger quickly, and I'm up on my feet and walking- no, stomping- towards my father.
"What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be a mentor?" I demand. With each word I get closer to him, practically yelling in his face by the end of the sentence. I realize who it is I am speaking to and back away. If there's one thing my dad taught me, it's to respect your elders.
"Sorry, but why didn't you tell me this?" I ask. It makes sense why he wasn't surprised about the news of the games now. They must have had the mentors informed ahead of everyone else. Why my father is one of them I will never know, nor do I want to know.
He gives me a stern smile and replies, "I don't see how it would have made a difference. Think of it like this, you have the upper hand now. I know what you can do, what strategy will be the best for you and your strengths and weaknesses." I take this in consideration for a moment. I guess it's true. If he already knows what I can do, that gives us more time to find out about Marcus' skills and ability and plan what to do in the arena.
"Ok, but I expect some pretty good gifts in the arena." I say with a smile, any anger gone from my system.
He lets out a laugh. "That's only if we can find someone who's willing to take you on."
Marcus is standing next to me now. He reaches out his hand to my father. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Stague."
My father reaches his hand out and they shake hands. "And you too." He replies back. It's time for us to eat lunch and we are directed to the dining area. They start us off with some warm buns and butter. Next, we have some steak with mashed potatoes and macaroni. We indulge into our meal and when we finish they bring out a triple chocolate cake. My mouth starts watering at all the chocolate, and just the sight of it makes me feel sick, but I ignore it. I know I should be eating healthy, but a girl needs her chocolate. I limit myself to one piece of cake though. After I finish with the cake I wipe my mouth with a napkin.
"Now let's get down to business." Father says. "Marcus, what skills do you have? Any weapons you're handy with?" Marcus nods.
"I'm a pretty good shot with a gun. And not too bad with knives either."
"How fast can you run?" Father asks.
"I can do a mile in a little over 5 minutes. I'm really good with edible plants too." He says.
Father seems pleased. "Well, you two are going to have to work together in that arena if you want to make it out alive. I would recommend that you find other tributes that have valuable skills, but you can trust. Annelise, I know you're a pretty good judge of character, so trust your gut when choosing allies."
I nod and look at Marcus, "I'll run my pickings by you before we make any decisions."
"And I will too." He says, giving me a small grin. I nod and we all go into the TV room to watch the recap of all the reapings. After about 16 others, it's our states turn and I watch as Becca and Daniel panic and cling to me. I see many tears in the crowd at the sight of this, but quickly dismiss it as I feel tears starting to form.
Then Marcus' name is called and he makes his way to the stage. He looks as if he doesn't care, or he knew it would happen. No shock registered on his face at all. I glance over at him, his face still an unreadable mask. I really wish I had the ability to do that.
Only one reaping really interests me. In Michigan, the boy tribute's name is called and he runs up to the stage and starts yelling obscenities at his escort. He turns to the camera and tells the nation to, uh; kiss a not-so-pleasant part of his body. The camera's cut for a split second, but not before a gun shot rings through and sounds of screams come after.
After 2 minutes of blackness, the reaping reappears and the escort babbles on, "Well, looks like our male tribute had a bit of a… accident. We will re-select the male tribute." He pulls a name out of the glass ball and reads, "Evan Newman." A small boy, probably 13, waddles up to the stage, and they cut to the next state.
I look at father, "Something about that boy from Michigan was familiar." I state thoughtfully. I try placing the boys face in a time period or situation, but I can't.
"Yea, that's your cousin. You have only met him twice, once when he was born and once about 5 years ago." Father replies.
I hope someone kills him so I don't have to, I think to myself. Shocked that that's the first thought that comes to my mind, I shake my head to clear the thoughts.
"I want him as an ally." I quickly state.
Marcus looks at me and raises his eyebrows. "Thanks for running that by me."
I look at him, slightly annoyed. "Well, he's my cousin. I think I can trust him." In all honesty, I should probably not be so naïve in thinking that just because we're family he won't try and fight me for his survival. But family is important to me and I want to trust him.
"But that means trusting the girl too." He states matter-of-factly.
"I don't care. Once she knows were family, she will trust us, because she will know I'm not making a plan to kill them." I say, clearly annoyed. At least, I hope she will trust us.
He notices my annoyance and raises his hands in a surrendering fashion, "Ok, ok. Just thought you should think before doing anything too rational." He says, not looking at me.
"Annelise, thinking before she acts? No, that doesn't happen, she acts first and thinks later, no matter how bad an idea it is." Father says laughing.
Marcus joins in on his laughter. No matter how true that is, I don't like being made fun of. Whether it's joking or not, it hurts my feelings more than it angers me. I already don't like either of them, and we are only 2 hours into the trip. I don't mask the hurt or anger on my face as I glare at them and their expressions quickly change. Before they have time to say anything, I get up and stomp my way to my room.