I wake up the next morning and find myself surprisingly well rested even though I only got maybe three hours of sleep. I don't know what time it is, so I get up and walk around to the back door and peek through the slants in the shade. It looks dark, with a crack of light shooting through the sky. I would guess it is around five in the morning. Back at home, I would be trying to grasp onto my last hour of sleep.
I decide that it would be pointless to try and get more sleep. I'm not quite sure what to do with myself now. I don't need to get dressed because I still have on my training jumpsuit. I can't shower or brush my teeth and the store isn't open yet so I can buy breakfast. No one else is awake and Dwayne's office door is locked.
I turn my head over to where my sisters and mom lay sleeping on dummies and just behind them are my knives. I guess I can squeeze in some practice before actual practice starts. I won't have to be annoyed with wanna-bes either. I tiptoe around my sleeping family and snatch the knives of the shelf. I make my way into the other room that is normally used for spear work. I don't spend much time in here because we are encouraged to stick with what we know. The odds are very likely that someone else in the Career pack can use a spear, bow and arrow, or sword. Sure, I took a couple lessons with them at the beginning until I found out my skill, but I'm not as good.
As the knives fly out my of my hand and straight into the heart of a dummy, I forget everything that has been at the back of my mind. All the worries about the arena, my dad, my family, Cato, all gone in an instant. It is wonderful.
It seems like only five minutes when I hear someone approaching. I ignore it for a while until I can get a look. I look over my shoulder for a moment to see Cato standing there. His arms are crossed and his head is tilted up into the air. Yep, this is the normal, confident Cato. I'm not scared of him, though.
"Pretty good, for a fifteen year old," he says. I guess we aren't even going to attempt to be friends, not even for the crowd. It could work in our favor or against it. I really don't care about what the crowd thinks of me because I can kill my way through the arena. I'm sure Enobaria will talk to me about it once I'm on the train.
"Oh, so you can do better?" I reply, not bothering to show any kind of emotion other than confidence.
"Way better. You would help me train against knife throwers. Too bad you are going in the arena," he says. That is confirmation that there will be no friendliness between us. This is going to be all work. I take a glance over his shoulder and see my sister rustling. I don't know if Cato knows they are here or why he is even here this early in the morning. He should be at home, taking care of his family, if he has one. I decide my best decision would be to get myself out and take my sisters to school. I'm not sure about where to go from there, but I'll figure it out, eventually.
"Oh, well. I would've loved to help you prepare to win, which would mean my death. And I'm not going to let that happen," I tell him as I grab my knives from their scattered positions around the dummy and walk out, tilting my head at the same angle as he does. He sticks his hand out against the other side of the doorway, blocking my exit.
"I would enjoy your time here. Oh, and tell Kayla that I'll see her next year," he whispers, just loud enough so that I can't even hear parts of what is he saying. But at the root, it means that Cato is an overconfident person and that Kayla isn't what I thought her to be. But, she's Kayla and I never expected an amazing friend in her. Besides, leaving her behind will be easy when I'm residing in victor's village. He opens up the doorway again and I walk out, my head still tilted.
I turn around again, making sure that he is gone or too focused on his work to care. Instead, he is staring at me, leaning against the doorway. I don't want to seem strange, so I smile and keep walking. I take another look and he is gone; good. I shake my sisters until they wake up, rubbing their eyes.
"Come on, time for school," I say. They stand up, clinging onto me. I don't think they had a good night's sleep. I walk them over to the door and open it for them.
"You know the way to school from here, right? Here's some money. Pick up breakfast on your way," I tell them, handing them some money. Mom laid some out with a note on her dummy. They nod and I send them off, closing the door after them. They'll be safe. I turn to the rack of knives and pull mine off. Time for work.