Chapter 17:
Unlike the last time I had an emotional outburst at the Capitol, this time my tears are expected, even encouraged; they are part of the big show. I can see cameras panning from Prim to me and me to Prim, alternating images of us flashing on the gigantic screen. The older sister who had survived the Games cries for the younger one yet to play. Come to think of it, this is probably why, despite our different 'angles', Cinna designed Prim and I matching color dresses. The people at the Capitol are probably eating this stuff up. Just the thought of my heartfelt moment being used for the Capitol's entertainment makes anger override sadness as my dominating emotion, stopping my tears in their tracks. I wipe my eyes and look over at Peeta, who is looking wide-eyed back at me, clearly afraid to do anything that will worsen my heightened emotional state.
When the District 12 chariot comes to a stop, Prim is close enough to the building that we make eye contact. I think of only her as I smile at her and blow her a kiss. Prim's bottom lip trembles, but she blows one back to me, and the Capitol audience, witnessing the entire thing on the jumbo screen, goes ballistic with their cheers. I look at Peeta, who slyly uses the opportunity to kiss me for the camera a few times, to the delightful uproar and thunderous applause of the Capitol citizens. The music ends and President Snow begins speaking; I refuse to look over in the event that he catches me giving him the hairy eyeball. All too soon, Prim and Paavo are paraded around once more and then taken into the Training Center.
The opening ceremonies are over. Peeta grabs my hand again as we exit the veranda and begin our long descent of stairs. He swings our arms a bit, asking eagerly, "Well, what did you think?"
"Prim looked perfect," I reply. "Cinna did such a great job capturing….what she means to me. Paavo looked like someone that you don't want to mess with. What did you think?"
Peeta laughs. "That Paavo is someone that you don't want to mess with. That Prim looked beautiful. That they both have the potential to get great sponsors. That we're lucky to have Cinna and Portia as our stylists. And….well, that you look beautiful tonight, too."
I thank him, face burning, and wholeheartedly agree with him about our stylists. We make it a point to express this to Cinna and Portia when we meet them along with Haymitch, Effie, Prim, and Paavo for dinner. Upon seeing Cinna back at the Training Center tower, I trap him in a fierce hug, near tears, murmuring, 'Thank you, thank you, thank you,' over and over. Cinna simply smiles and tells me that it was his pleasure.
When the guests-of-honor arrive, back in their normal attire, I engulf Prim in a huge hug, telling her how beautiful she looked and how proud I am of her for holding her head high. I know that it took an extraordinary amount of bravery on Prim's part just to get through the evening- like me; she isn't one for crowds or in being the center of attention. I also turn to Paavo and congratulate him on a job well-done; joke with him that I am thoroughly afraid of him now. He doesn't even crack a smile.
An extravagant dinner is served, and we dig in. We chat about the opening ceremonies a bit; Peeta and Effie discuss the looks of the other tributes, with Paavo and even Prim chiming in on occasion based on what they saw in the Remake Center. I don't have much to say as I wasn't paying enough attention; I'll really have to concentrate when we watch the tapes of the reapings and the opening ceremonies. Which, by the businesslike look on Effie's face throughout dinner, seems as though it will be very soon.
Sure enough, as soon as we're finished eating, Effie insists that all eight of us gather around to watch the viewings in the sitting room. Peeta and I share a couch; since our kiss, he has made it a point to sit as close to me as humanly possible. I am too preoccupied with Prim to have the focus to decide how I feel about it.
We begin with the reapings. The reapings from the Career Districts are the most interesting- simply because of the increased number of names to choose from. Besides having the most overall victors, the Careers often train as families- such as the brother and sister tributes from District 1 who won in back-to-back years. This year, a boy named Silk and a girl named Ruby volunteer to take the place of those originally chosen; Silk looks strikingly similar to a District 1 winner from several years ago, so I'm guessing he's his younger brother. I can't match Ruby, complete with fiery red hair, to any of the Victors I had ever seen; she must not look like the rest of her family. In District 2, it's Stone and Nutmeg. Stone is apropos as a name; the guy is massive, medium height but almost equally as wide, and all muscle. He is the son of the Fifty-third Hunger Games victor, fittingly named Boulder. Nutmeg is the sister of a winner that also happens to look a lot like Clove- I would bet my hat that they are all in the same family.
In the outlying districts, there is a far less expansive selection of paper slips in the reaping ball. Many of the victors went on to eventually have families, but a few didn't- so in a couple of cases Capitol had to reach a little to find a tribute that was in the appropriate age range. In District 8, the female tribute (who has such a rodent-like look I immediately dubbed her Mouseface) ended up being the daughter of the victor's third-cousin. In District 10, the male tribute that was selected was actually the grandson of the victor who had won one of the very first Games.
I do, however, notice a few things. Haymitch is right. As all of the tributes are related to victors, they don't look as hungry or desperate as some tributes that I have seen in the past. And since in a few other districts there were only a slip or two of paper in the reaping balls, those tributes, like us, knew it was coming and thus looked well-prepared- so it was an entirely different feel from the other Games. Both realizations are giving me knots in the pit of my stomach- it only makes things harder for Prim.
Next is the parade. I watch intently while the others glance at the screen in between their own commentary. Silk and Ruby are showing off their bedazzled looks; Stone and Nutmeg are fiercely intimidating. When the District 4 chariot goes by, I can't believe I didn't notice her before- the female tribute has to be Finnick Odair's younger sister. Tall, bronze flowing hair, bright green eyes, tanned complexion, brilliant smile- and a body that will earn more male sponsorship than ever before. She is dressed as a mermaid- skintight shimmery aqua bottoms, a couple of sparkly seashells a bit of string on top- and that's it. Looking at her, I realize that she is probably the deadliest tribute yet- if her trident skills are anything like her brother's.
The Capitol takes precisely that moment during the broadcast to pan to me and Peeta overlooking the ceremonies. I am sitting there unaffected, looking eagerly over the parading tributes for a glimpse of Prim, but Peeta is clearly ogling Finnick's sister- jaw dropped, eyes bulging out of his head, the works. Peeta is cold busted. Picking up on this, the Capitol immediately turns the camera elsewhere- I'm surprised that they didn't edit it out. On the couch in the sitting room, I feel a pang of discomfort, feeling somehow conflicted. With a sidelong glance at Peeta, I see that his eyes are fixed to the floor, he is blushing furiously, and that he has inched ever-so-slightly away from me.
I continue watching the parade, and while no one else particularly captures my attention, I try to take in the tributes from the rebelling districts, at least. I notice the male tribute from District 7 named Paul, though it would be hard not to- he looks to stand almost seven feet tall and has the build of a lumberjack (presumably). In District 11, the female tribute with an olive complexion and dark hair looks as though she is a younger, fitter version of a woman named Seeder, who I recognized from a previous Games. But, honestly, none of the tributes stand out as much as in some of the previous years- they are all fairly attractive and in good shape, making them more homogeneous as a group. And each tribute stands on average at least a foot taller and seventy-five pounds heavier than Prim.
I wonder about the probability of the much-hoped for alliance- I suppose we will find out more tomorrow. Without it, checking out her competition only makes me more fearful for Prim's life.