Losing Your Memory Chapter 5: Whatever You Say, a hunger games fanfic

You're losing your memory now

After a lunch full of plenty of awkward silences and dull comments, we trudge back inside the Training Center. The Careers, I notice, head back to their stations of deadly weaponry. They haven't bothered to try out any of the survival stations so far, which I find strange.

"They're idiots," Haymitch notes quietly, clearly seeing what I am. "There's no use being excellent with weapons when you don't have brains."

I nod my head in agreement. "They're very arrogant, aren't they?" I look on as the boy from 2 throws a spear from metres away. He grins cockily at Astrid, who's tightly clutching a spear in her hand. She's ghostly pale.

"Beyond belief," Haymitch mutters. Wrinkling his nose, he turns away from the awful sight. He pats me on the shoulder, which makes me shudder in pleasure. I will never get used to him touching me.

"So, where to next, sweetheart?" he whispers in my ear.

Pursing my lips, I scan the various stations. I land my eyes on the knife-throwing area, where a couple of Careers are hanging around.

"H-How about over there?" I suggest. The idea of being anywhere near those monsters makes me feel ill, but I'll have to face them at some point. Why not now?

Haymitch's teeth are clenched. "You sure you're ready to...be around them?"

"Of course," I reply, sounding a lot braver than I feel.

Before I even know what's happening, he reaches out and takes my hand.

"What are you-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"Moral support, sweetheart." He grins a little, but I can see he's embarrassed. "Unless you don't want to..."

"I-I don't," I stammer, but I really do. Oh, I do. "It's just...well, I don't want any more teasing from them."

"Oh, okay," Haymitch says quickly, and lets my hand go.

I smile at him a little, before marching over to the knife-throwing station. I can hear his heavy footsteps behind me.

I examine the shelf before me, which is filled with all kinds of knives. Long ones, short ones, ones with jagged edges and scarily pointy tips. I'm sure there's proper names for them, but I'm not aware of them.

I can see one of the girls from 1 looking me up and down from the corner of my eye, but I refuse to be intimidated by her. By any of them.

"Which one?" Haymitch says, just as entranced by the array of knives as I am.

I pick up the first knife I lay eyes on. It's short, with a jet black handle, but the blade is shined to perfection. I can see my own reflection in the thing.

"This one," I murmur.

The instructor, a blonde-haired man with dark eyes, comes over to us.

"Hello, Maysilee." He nods at me as if we've known each other forever. "Haymitch."

Haymitch shakes the instructors hand.

"My name is Jeremiah," he introduces himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. I've heard great things about you. Your costumes at the Opening Ceremonies..." He doesn't finish his sentence, just looks me up and down, like I'm a dish he wants to indulge himself in.

I suddenly feel nervous, because I'm being flirted with the knife-throwing instructor. I can hear the Careers' muffled laughter nearby.

Haymitch clears his throat. "Get to the point."

Jeremiah blinks. "Ah, yes, of course. Knives." His almost-black eyes glimmer. "Now, get a good grip on the handle."

I do as he says, with obedience. Haymitch copies my actions beside me.

"And now..." He leads me over to a couple of metres away from the target, where my knife will hopefully find a home. "Throw."

I thrust the knife into the air, watching carefully as it lands a little bit away from the bulls-eye. I sigh.

"Not bad for your first try," he comments. "Your turn, Haymitch."

Haymitch, who I've just remembered is good with a knife – like he told Brandon, hits the bulls-eye.

Brandon lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. But he's not the only one, because I glance over at the Careers, and find half of them glowering at Haymitch. With hatred, jealousy, anger. I'm suddenly terrified for my district partner, because if I know anything, it's that the Careers don't enjoy it when they're out-shined. And Haymitch has done just that.

"Do you have to be so perfect at everything?" I laugh.

"Everything?" Haymitch raises his eyebrows, amused.

"Well, yeah." I shrug. "First archery, and now..." I chew my lip, gazing over at the knife buried in the bulls-eye.

He rolls his eyes. "You overestimate me, sweetheart. Your turn."

"Jeremiah!" A girl – I think from 4 – calls. "I need your help!"

This seems strange, a Career actually needing an instructor's help, but I don't think too much of it. Jeremiah walks off, thankfully. That guy creeps me out.

"Go on," Haymitch encourages, as I pick up another knife – longer, this time – and shakily grip it in my hand.

"You can do it," he promises.

I exhale, and throw the knife with as much accuracy as I can manage. And it hits the bulls-eye.

"Oh, my..." I gasp, barely believing what I've just done.

"You did it, sweetheart." Haymitch grins at me. He leans over and whispers in my ear, "But they're not very happy with us."

I look over, to see the Careers staring at me, in exactly the same fashion as they did Haymitch. The boy from 2 is pretending to slice his own neck off, mouthing the words 'you're dead.'

I swallow back hard, wanting to break down and cry.

"Just ignore them," Haymitch tells me, glaring at the boy from 2.

Training passes without much more dramatic events, and the final whistle is blown, which means we've got to get back to our quarters for dinner.

"Let's go," Haymitch says.

We're over at the axe-throwing station, where we've learned neither of us have much of a knack for axes. Hell, I can barely lift one of those things.

"Okay." I lay down a heavy axe, waving my right hand about, because the axe is just so heavy and puts such a strain on my body. I wince in pain.

"What's wrong?" Haymitch wonders as we file out of the gymnasium.

"Just...my arm's a little sore," I tell him, flexing it a little. "From the axe, you know."

"I know a little something that could fix that," Haymitch replies.

"You do?" I ask. As far as I know, Haymitch has no experience in healing strained muscles. But it's not like I have any other options.

I spread out my arm. "Do it, then."

We stop in the middle of the slightly darkened hallway, just outside the elevator. Haymitch puts two hands on my arm, one on my wrist, the other on my shoulder. His touch makes me want to scream. In a good way. He pushes down hard on my wrist, and begins to rub a series of small circles up and down my arm.

And then, the pain's gone.

"How did you-" I gasp, at loss for words.

"Just a little trick my brother taught me." He grins proudly.

I smile. "T-Thank you."

"No problem," he says. We step into the elevator, push the button that reads '12' and zoom up to the very top of the Training Center.

At dinner, Brandon wants to know all about our first day of training. He goes to Astrid first.

"What did you learn, sweetie?" he asks through a mouthful of roast potatoes.

"I-I learned how to start a fire," she replies quietly. "I climbed a tree. I did an edible plants test, and I got eight out of ten right." She smiles at us, and we're all too kind to break it to her that she hasn't yet learned how to handle any sort of weapon.

But Brandon seems pleased. "Very good, Astrid. What about you, Trey?"

Trey shrugs. "Threw some spears. Chopped a few heads off dummies with an axe. And all of the things Astrid did."

Brandon nods. "Impressive." He turns to Haymitch and I, a smile playing on his lips. "And you two?"

It occurs to me that Brandon knows Haymitch and I are training together.

I glance at Haymitch. "Uh, we...threw some knives. Went to the axe-throwing station for a little bit. Some archery, too. But I sort of failed at it." I smile a little, remembering how Haymitch helped me.

"We're going to focus more on survival skills tomorrow," Haymitch adds.

"We are?" I whisper, because this is the first I've heard of it. Haymitch nods in confirmation.

"I see," Brandon says flatly. "And do you know that the Careers are very...how do I put it? Pissed off with you, shall we say."

My fingernails dig into my palm. "We know."

"Because?" Brandon prompts, waiting for an answer. But I'm sure he already knows.

"Because Haymitch threw some knives in front of them," I tell him quietly. "He hit the bulls-eye on his first try. So did I; but on my second."

"How do you know they're mad at us?" Haymitch demands.

"Because I've been having some chats with their mentors," Brandon explains. "And half the Careers want you both in their alliance."

I swear I almost faint right there and then.

"Well, tell them it's a no," I spit. "I'd rather slit my own throat than join those monsters."

"Agreed," Haymitch says, taking a small sip of water.

Brandon lets out a big, exasperated sigh. "Fine. I can see there's nothing I can do to change your minds. But I would like to let you know what a mistake you both are making. When they find out you don't want in with them, you'll be the first ones they target at the bloodbath. They can't risk having you both on the loose. Because they see you as threats."

I can't comprehend what Brandon is saying. A threat? How are we possibly threats to the Careers? I've only just learned how to yield a weapon today, whereas they've been born and bred for this. Been swinging knives and axes around since they could toddle, I bet. It just doesn't make sense.

"We're not threats," I say suddenly. "Well, I'm not, anyway."

"You underestimate yourselves." Brandon smirks a little. "Those outfits you wore at the Opening Ceremonies? Haymitch had the women at his feet. And it was impossible to take your eyes off Maysilee. I'm sure Trey knows what I'm talking about."

Trey flushes a little, and makes a big show of studying the floral place mats.

"What I'm trying to get at is, you made impressions on the Capitol citizens," Brandon says. "Big ones. And I hear something going around about you two..."

I blink, not understanding what he's hinting at.

He raises his eyes to the heavens again and says one word, which explains it all. "Archery. What happened when Haymitch was...helping you, Maysilee. Things got a little intimate, according to the other tributes and their mentors."

I suddenly feel hot, and I just know my face is beet red. "Things weren't getting intimate, Brandon. He...he was just helping me. They're exaggerating."

"Whatever you say," Brandon chuckles. "Whatever you say."

A/N: Any thoughts on this chapter? Leave them in a review! :)