"It was a fluke."
"Was not. You should have seen the look on everyone's face."
"They were probably laughing at me."
"No, they were shocked and amazed. You showed them."
"Alix! Shut—up!"
It was dinner, and Alix couldn't help but telling everyone what I would not. That I hit the dummy, not just once, but over and over again after that.
"And even the Careers-" he begins.
I turn towards him.
"Look whose talkative now, mister I-can-cut-the-heads-off-dummies-with-a-piece-of-rope!"
That shuts him up.
Gregor looks like he's on the verge of laughter.
"Great job, both of you," he says, "is this what you think you'll show the Gamemakers tomorrow?"
We both nod.
"Well, get a good rest, both of you, and be ready for scoring tomorrow."
In what seems like no time at all, I'm standing in the line for our private sessions. It moves extremely, agonizingly slowly. The boy from 10 goes in, his face white as paper. The door closes behind him with an echoing bang. I'm next.
"So, this is it," I say after a few minutes
Alix nods, just as the door opens and a disembodied voice calls out: "Tarrowell, Rhubarb!"
I walk forward.
"Score high," Alix whispers behind me.
I smile nervously as the door closes. Walking forward, my hands shaking, I step in front of the Gamemakers.
You can tell immediately that most of them have had a few drinks. Their eyes are unfocused and they're hunched over, faces pale. The only one who is watching me is the Head Gamemaker. You can tell because, while the rest of them are wearing black suits, his has a diagonal red stripe from his shoulder to his hip. His hands are in his lap and he stares at me intently as soon as I walk in the room.
I swallow, and begin speaking with a shaky voice.
"Rhubarb Tarrowell, District Eleven. May I begin?"
The Head Gamemaker nods. Some of the other Gamemakers have realized there is someone in the room, and turn to watch.
Breathing deeply, I stand in front of a row of dummies and grab two knifes. Some sort of bravery seems to overcome me, and I throw them, both lobbing themselves right in the middle of two dummy heads, and they split in half, stuffing spilling out of the broken seam.
I smile to myself and turn to the Gamemakers. A few are nodding encouragingly. The Head Gamemaker has his eyebrows raised, and our eyes meet. His eyes seem to say Come on; you can do better then that. He's right. I can do better.
A sudden reckless urge comes over me. I pull the knifes out of the dummies, fall on the ground, roll onto my back, and throw. The knifes fly through the air, and cut the metal cords holding two of the lights over the training center. The fall to the ground with a crash right on the area the careers would always use. There is a scream behind me and I turn around. One old lady had fallen out of her chair. The others around her looked angry. Some of the guys look impressed.
I look at the Head Gamemaker. Is this what you wanted me to do? I think. He smiles slightly and nods.
"You're free to go, Miss Tarrowell," he says.
"Thank you," I say, and run out of the room as fast as my bruised legs would carry me.
I'm back at the room, sitting on the couch next to Briar and Gregor. Briar, for once, is paying attention. I think Gregor talked to her in a way that didn't make her go nuts. He's good with stuff like that.
"So, you threw the knifes at the dummies, and then you left? That's it?" Gregor asked.
"Er, no," I say, "I actually cut the cords of some of the lights hanging over the sword fighting area. And they fell to the ground. And broke."
Gregor's eyes widen.
"Wait, you did- Why in the world would you do that?"
I paused and thought about what to say. 'I had a mental conversation with the Head Gamemaker' would probably make me sound like a lunatic.
"Well, I didn't think it was enough. I wanted to do something they would remember."
"Well the people who have to fix the lights will certainly remember you," says Briar, rolling her eyes.
Gregor gives her a look.
"It was definitely a rash decision. What did the Gamemakers do?" he asks.
"The older ladies didn't look happy, but I think the Head Gamemaker liked it."
"You mean Dion Lupei?"
"Yeah, sure, I don't know his name."
Gregor crosses his arms.
"This is Dion's first year as Head Gamemaker. I've heard he's from District One. How he got into the Capitol is beyond my imagination."
There is a knock at the door.
Gregor looks over his shoulder.
"Come in!"
The door swings open, and there in the door is Alix, his arms held by two peacekeepers.
"Alix?" I ask, "What did you-"
The peacekeepers push him into the room.
"In you go. And remember, we'll be watching you," one says.
They leave. Gregor rolls his eyes.
"If it isn't one thing, it's another," he mutters, then speaks to Alix. "What happened?"
Alix looks angry. His arms are red from where the peacekeepers had grabbed him.
"Nothing!" he hisses.
I cock my eyebrow. "Didn't look like nothing."
Muttering under his breath, he collapses on the couch.
"Okay, so it wasn't nothing." He finally says. "I whipped the guns out of the peacekeepers hands."
Gregor jumps up.
"You what?"
"I didn't know what to do with the whip, so I wrapped it around the top of the gun, and tugged it out of their hand. Twice."
Gregor runs his hands through his hair. Briar looks unperturbed. I'm impressed.
"Nice," I say.
Gregor looks at me as though I just impressed that I wanted to make out with Briar.
"No! Not 'nice'! Do you realize that the Capitol will not take this lightly? That is viewed as an offense! They will make sure to punish you for that."
He throws himself back onto the couch.
"It'll all depend on the score they give you. You'll undoubtedly score high if they want the other tributes to view you as a threat. That's the easiest way to get you killed."
Just as he finishes that happy statement, Petra skips into the room.
"Turn the screen on!" She orders eagerly. "They're starting to put up the scores!"
With a click of a button, the screen blinks on. And just in time too, Quirinus Spiros is sitting at a glass desk, explaining the point rules to all the viewers.
"...One to Twelve," he was saying, "based on how impressive the Gamemakers felt their performance was." He coughs and straightens his green bowtie.
"First, District One!"
As always, the careers score high. Both get nines.
Other high scorers are Districts 2, 4, and 8. The other districts get low to medium.
You could feel the room tense up as the last numbers from 10 fade away.
"And now," says Quirinus, "District, Eleven!"
First is Alix. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding in as he gets a nine.
Petra pats him encouragingly on the shoulder.
Now it's my turn. I feel a hand wrap around mine, and turn to see Alix, who puts his finger to his lips as I open my mouth, and points to the screen just as they show my number.
A ten.
"No. Way," I whisper.
Everyone else looks just as confused as I am.
"What about me?" Asks Alix, letting go of my hand and throwing out his arms. "What happened to the fuss they made over it?"
"What's the matter, you didn't seem so eager about getting a high number before," I hiss.
I don't know why I'm so angry, I should be happy I got a good score. That would mean better odds, and more sponsors. I guess Gregor's comment unhinged me a little. But it's not that. I realize it as I'm in my room getting ready for dinner.
If the capitol knows that me and Alix share a close bond, wouldn't the best thing to do would be to torture him by making him watch his friend suffer?