No, I'm not dead! I am very sorry for the lateness. I have been extremely busy and have had NO TIME at all. That plus writers block made this chapter very hard to finish. Please forgive me! At least next chapter the games finally start, which means the brutal Cato we all know will be coming out in full force.
In the morning, there is an uneasiness at breakfast. Everyone seems nervous, although I don't know why. District two in known for high training scores. Actually, it's also known for producing victors. I know I'm going to do fine, and Clove of all people should be just as confidant.
"Well, you two should be off now. Today is a very important day, and you can't afford to be late," out escort Atilius babbles. "Good luck to both of you. I know you'll do splendid, just splendid."
Clove and I quickly get up and half walk, half jog over to the elevator. I swear, one of these days Atilius is going to make me snap, and he won't like it. I shudder at the though that I will have to see him all day, every day on the victory tour. That'll be fun.
As soon as the door closes, Clove relaxes. "Enobaria came into my room at the crack of dawn this morning going on about the importance of a good score. As if I don't already know that," Clove rants with annoyance in her voice. She rolls her eyes.
I think for a second. "Maybe it's less about a good score and more about getting a higher score than the others," I suggest. This gets her attention. "I mean, what are the chances Marvel will let me lead the pack if in his mind he's better than me?" I pause, before adding, "Which he's not."
Clove smirks at me. "Oh, I know," she says without any sarcasm.
"In all honesty I could probably take him with a knife," I brag. I look her in the eye. "But you could take anyone with a knife."
She smiles one of her rare, real smiles. "Not if they're fast enough to doge it."
"So, that rules out maybe Tara. Anyone else is dead," I smile back at her. This whole conversation feels wrong. We should be competing to be the best, not complementing each other. An uneasy feeling settles over me, but I shake it off. Today, I can't be distracted.
The morning goes by fast. Everyone is focused on what happens next, this afternoon. We will need to impress the game makers. Traditionally, the careers have to score an eight or higher. Although that shouldn't be a problem for most of us, I can tell Tara is nervous.
When we are dismissed for lunch, the five of us head to our usual table. Glimmer grabs the seat beside me, so Clove sits across from me next to Marvel. Tara sits at the end.
"So," Glimmer purrs beside my ear. "Are you nervous?" Her hand rests absently on my arm. Why is she asking? She knows perfectly well that I'll probably have the best score. I honestly feel bad for Marvel; after training I at least get to go back to my own floor. He's stuck with her.
"No," I reply cockily. "Why should I be?"
Tara looks down at the table and pushes her food around.
"What about you, Tara? What do you plan to do?" Glimmer's voice sounds friendly enough, but I can hear the malice under the fake tone. Apparently, so does Tara.
"I'm probably going to do a little bit of everything. In my opinion, a little diversity is better than having only one skill," Tara answers. Her comment is like a slap in the face for most of the people at the table. I notice Clove start fingering her knife in her hands and she has a suspicious glint in her eye. I kick her under the table. She shoots me a glare, and I shake my head at her. This isn't the time or place to be getting into fights.
Soon, we start getting called into the training room one at a time for our private sessions. Marvel goes first, since it starts from District one and boys start. Before too long, it's my turn. I stand up and walk to the training room, leaving only Clove and Tara at the table alone. I shoot Clove a warning look before pushing open the doors to the training room.
The Gamemakers watch me intently as I step towards them. I'm not sure if I should say something, so I tell them may name. One of them simply nods and tells me to go ahead. I can feel their eyes on my as I move towards the sword station. I select the most impressive one and then start to do some damage. I show off everything my father ever taught me, everything I have ever learned. I am in my zone, and nothing can stop me. I no longer care about the Gamemakers, no longer care about anything. It's just me and my sword.
By the time I finish, all the dummies are fatally wounded or decapitated, and the Gamemakers are looking impressed. Then, I remember what Tara said about diversity and quickly move towards the spears before I could be dismissed and throw some at the targets. I also manage to throw some knives, too. At least Clove hasn't gone yet, or there would be no point in trying to impress them with knives, I think to myself and I almost let out a chuckle.
Finally, I am dismissed, and I start to head upstairs. I contemplate waiting for Clove, but Brutus would have a few things to say about that. When she does arrive, she has a satisfied smirk on her face. I can't help but smile at her, even with Brutus sitting a few feet away. Over dinner, everyone talks excitedly about our training scores. Everyone is anticipating great scores. I can tell that the stylists and escorts are hoping for another district two win, but I suspect it has more to do with invites to parties than genuine concern for our well-being.
We finish our dinner quickly before we all file into the living room and take our seats on the couch. I sit with Brutus and Clove sits with Enobaria. The results come in order of the districts, so we find our Marvel and Glimmer's scores first. Both got an 8. Not bad, but not excellent either.
Now it's our turn. You could hear a pin drop in the room as Caesar prepares to announce the scores for district two. My whole body tenses, although I know I shouldn't be worried. I just can't help the nervous feeling in my gut. My father is watching this right now, and I know he expects me to get the best score in the group. My only fear is the fear of disappointing him.
I clench my fists as my score flashed beneath my picture. 10. I scored a 10. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Brutus smiles at me and squeezes my shoulder. For a brief moment, the room is alive with congratulations, but soon everyone quiets down for Clove's score. She gets a 9, and relief floods through me. I would never admit this to her, but she was my biggest competition, and I beat her. Brutus gives me a knowing look before getting up to congratulate my fellow tribute. I join him.
She seems happy enough, but I can tell she is disappointed that I outscored her. Well, maybe disappointed isn't the right word. Perhaps angry is better, although she's good at masking it. I wouldn't be surprised if she is planning to get me back in the arena. Well, good luck with that.
The boy from district four got a 6, and Tara managed an 8. I smirk to myself. District two is definitely going to take it this year. None of the other scores interest me until we reach the boy from 11. He got a score of 9, probably just by showing up. The next score surprised me-that boy from 12, the one who was painting, got an 8. That's the same as most of the other careers. I wonder what he's hiding.
The next score makes my blood run cold. That fire girl's picture shows up, followed by an 11 flashing beneath it.
"Now Cato-" I hear Brutus starting to try to calm me down. He must sense how angry I am. No, angry does not describe my rage. I am infuriated. My vision goes red and I stand up too quickly for Brutus to stop me. I can feel the tension in my body that needs to be released. I need to hurt someone. Instead, I flip over the coffee table.
"How," I say, my voice tight. "Did," I continue, my voice rising in fury with every word. "That. Pathetic. Girl. From. Twelve. Beat. Me!" By the end I'm sure everyone in the building could hear my shouting.
"Cato," Brutus says calmly. "She did volunteer."
"Yes, but only to spare that tiny little blonde girl!" I shout. None of this makes sense. I punch a hole in a nearby wall. I see a look of fear on Atilius' face, but that only encourages me. Enobaria suggests that the stylists leave, and they make no attempt to argue. Atilius follows them out of the room.
My breathing becomes rapid and heavy. Brutus places a hand on my shoulder, but I whip around and punch him square in the face. Now he looks mad. His muscles tense, but before he can move I'm already storming out towards my room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mentor start to follow me, but Clove's voice stops him.
"No, I'll go," she says and follows me out before either mentor could object. She stands smirking in the doorway as I just lay waste to everything in my room, saying nothing. After a few minutes, she finally speaks up.
"You about done?" She asks sarcastically, almost as if she's bored. I spin around to face her and look her in the eye. I'm at least a head taller than her, but she glares right back up at me without so much as a flinch. I catch a glint of fear, but she hides it well. I feel myself relax slightly.
"I am not coming in second best to that…that…what did she even do anyway?" I complain. "I swear, when I find her-" My hands start to form into fists again.
"Cato, calm down," Clove says sternly. Every fiber in me is screaming to hit something, hard, but I manage to resist the impulse. How can someone so small be so confident?
"I want to kill her," I growl.
"Don't worry. You will." An evil smile spreads across her face, and a know a similar one is reflected on mine.
"I'm looking forward to it."