A/N: Chapter 2 is here! :)

LunarAbsol: Jade does seem a bit stereotypical so far, doesn't she? I have a couple things planned that might change your mind though, not everything about her has been revealed yet. In any case, thank you for your advice, I'm fairly new to writing, so your tip was very helpful :)

Chapter 2: To Reap

My mother greets me at the door. She knows where I've been, and I'm glad she doesn't say anything. We may not have the best of relationships, with her being a typical District 1 jewelry maker, the epitome of what I don't like about my district, but she loves me. As much as she's terrified for me, she knows it would kill me to leave Naomi alone. And I do love her, despite her flaws, so I hug her and promise to let her dress me like she always does for the reaping.

It's a tradition for us. My father is still at work, so until he comes home, my mother gets me ready for the reaping. One of the best jewelers in the district, she always has plenty of money to spend on my outfit. A beautiful light green dress, made of a shimmering soft fabric, is first. My mother always says that the color brings out my eyes. She even named me after it, saying that the soft green was my most striking feature when she first saw me. It reminded her of the gemstone she so often worked with. I'm just glad I didn't end up with a name like Diamond or Shimmer, which are so common it almost seems like every other person is named one of those or something similar.

This year though, she doesn't reach for the box of Capitol jewelry. She quietly hands me a necklace I've seen her working on for weeks now. It's a gorgeous chain, all handmade, with a teardrop of pure jade hanging down. It's adorned with silver spirals and embellishments, and it's surely worth thousands of dollars. I look at it in amazement. We aren't allowed to wear our own jewelry. Everything goes to the Capitol, and if we want something, we have to buy it. And as rich as my family is compared to others, we definitely couldn't afford this. It's the first time my mother has even suggested breaking the rules.

"Are you sure I can-"

"It would be wasted in the Capitol. They don't understand true beauty" For the first time in my life, I see a flicker of defiance in her eyes. The Capitol has finally crossed the line to her.

"Your father made the silver chain and I made the pendant. We wanted it to be a gift for after the reaping, but it matches your dress so well I couldn't keep it. No matter what happens tonight, we love you" I hug her, almost messing up my hair. There are tears in both our eyes, but we don't let them fall. Can't mess up the carefully done makeup.

Usually she isn't this scared. But usually, there are volunteers ready to be part of the games. This year, there aren't enough. For once, I really am at risk. For once, we're all scared.

My father won't be coming home. He doesn't get off work until right before the reaping, so I won't get to see him until after. My mother assures me he tried to take the day off, but his superiors wouldn't let him. They were already short staffed at the factory, and they couldn't let anyone else leave. Rules are rules, my mom says sadly. I tell her it's alright, that we'll all celebrate together tonight. She smiles, and then it's time to start heading to the square.

The reaping is always held in the square. I'm told that each district has a similar square, where events like the reaping are held. The movable stage is fully set up, with fourteen chairs and a podium. Six chairs for the victors, six for the reaped, and two extra for the mayor and the Capitol escort. Seven are currently filled, and I notice that our escort isn't here. Her name is Elanora Elswood, and I'm actually surprised she isn't here yet. She seems to think of herself as royalty, like she was some queen right out of the old stories. Everything about her is refined and elegant. In short, I hate her.

Usually she wouldn't even think of being late, in fact she'd probably call it unrefined. Everything is unrefined to her. The other districts especially. Some people say she worked her way up to District 1 simply because she likes our jewelry. I wouldn't be surprised. I've even seen her in my mother's shop before.

While we wait to check in, Elanora herself pushes past us, not even bothering with an apology. She heads right for the stage, and I'm amazed she doesn't trip over her heels and long dress that drags on the ground behind her. The deep purple dress might actually be pretty, if it weren't being worn by someone like Elanora. As it is, it just adds to the fakeness of her whole persona. She mutters something about a late train and sits down in her chair with a cold glare at nothing in particular.

When it's our turn my mother tells our names to a peacekeeper, who marks something down on a piece of paper and directs my mom to the section for adults and young children, and me to the section for sixteen-year-olds. I don't get a chance to say anything to my mother before I'm being shoved by the crowd, but I touch the jade necklace and remember her words.

I end up in a group of other girls that I know from school, and we exchange tense smiles. Usually they're pretty chatty, but I guess the atmosphere is too overbearing for conversation. The area for fifteen-year-olds is just in front of me, and I keep careful watch for Naomi. At one point I think I see her dark blonde hair, but then it vanishes before I can really see if it's her. Before I know it, the digital clock on the Justice building shows that it's four, and the mayor promptly stands up to begin the speech. It's the standard one, the one recited every year at the reaping. It tells the story of Panem, a country that rose from the ashes of what used to be North America. Then came the first uprising, which ended with the defeat of twelve districts and the destruction of the thirteenth. That was when the Treaty of Treason was signed, and the first Hunger Games were held the year after as part of the agreement. Almost 75 years passed, in relative peace, then came the second rebellion. Led by those who hated the games, under the symbol of the mockingjay, it raged for nearly two years before the eventual defeat of the districts and destruction of yet another district, district 12. The third uprising came shortly after, led by a small group of rebels who still believed in the goals of the last rebellion. They were few in number, but surprisingly resistant, with secret contacts everywhere in the districts. It was a time of paranoia and suspicion, but in the end, the Capitol won.

Now, the Hunger Games are even fiercer, with tougher arenas and more weapons and traps. It makes some of the old ones that we watch in school look tame by comparison. They also last a lot longer. Rather than a couple weeks, they usually last a month. They're also a lot more cruel. Traps are designed for suffering instead of death. A tribute might suffer for weeks before finally dying. Like always, the games are televised, and treated as a festivity. Here in District 1, many people even enjoy betting on the games and cheering on our tributes, a parody of the Capitol's own festivities. This year everything is different.

The mayor explains the twists of this year's Quarter Quell again, repeating exactly what the president said before. I'd hoped we might learn something new, like Naomi said, but apparently not.

He moves on to the list of past victors, which is one of the longest of all the districts, with over 30 names. Only six are here to attend the reaping, the rest of the living victors work in the Capitol and couldn't be here today. The six each wave as their name is mentioned, and receive slight applause. The atmosphere is much tenser than usual, they often receive standing ovations.

Finally the mayor introduces Elanora Elswood, who stands up to give her own speech. She drones on in her obviously affected accent about what a pleasure and honor it is to be here, and makes a big show of shaking the mayor's hand. As escort, she will be the one to choose the names. I am reminded of the six empty chairs on the stage. They will be filled by the end of the reaping, and not by volunteers who've trained their whole lives for this. Four will be random people, children, without any kind of training. Four sacrifices. The volunteers have been instructed to wait to volunteer until someone is called who looks like they couldn't survive. But how do you say who can and can't survive the games? None of us have training, none of us stand any chance against careers.

Elanora seems to either not notice or not care about the mood of the crowd, and strides over to the giant glass balls that hold thousands of pieces of paper each. One holds six with my name, and five with my friend's. No chance. That what I tell myself. No way either of us will be picked.

"Ladies first" Elanora says as she strides to the one on the right. She pauses dramatically, hand held above the bowl, before snatching one directly from the top. She slowly unfolds it, and then reads off the name.

"Flora Fawn".

I can't help the sigh of relief. But even as the sound leaves my mouth, one of anguish leaves another. I watch in horror as a tiny girl from the twelve-year-olds section walks forward unsteadily, but she doesn't get far before another voice calls out.

"I volunteer as tribute" This voice is strong, steady, and calm, and I immediately recognize Glisten, the female career. She walks to the front, gently pushing the younger girl, Flora, back to her place. She's crying, but even I can hear her whispered thank yous, and I think I even see a hint of sadness in Glisten's eyes as she looks back at her. That's when I remember that she has a younger sister. I don't think she's old enough to be reaped, but I can't help but wonder if she looks anything like Flora.

Glisten gracefully walks up to the stage and shakes Elanora's hand, who applauds her bravery for volunteering for such a young girl. It's even more obvious an act than her accent, since she's been an escort for our district for countless years now and knows how the volunteering works. An act for the cameras and the Capitol, no doubt, they love that kind of stuff. Sometimes the games are more about the drama than the death. Glisten simply gives her a slight smile and takes her seat.

Then Elanora is reaching into the bowl again, this time digging through the papers for a bit before selecting one and unfolding it. This is it. There will be no more volunteers. Whoever is selected now will not be saved.

Elanora clears her throat, and says the next name.

"Naomi Maia" And my world falls apart.

I can't speak. I can't move. I barely stay on my feet. My vision swims in front of me and it takes me a moment to realize it's blurred with tears. That moment is all it takes for Naomi to step forward into the aisle. She walks slowly, hands clenched at her sides, and she nearly looks back. I'm glad she doesn't. I don't know how I could look at her.

I want to speak. I want to volunteer for her, because I can't watch her die. I can't. I won't. But I don't. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. I'm scared, I realize in horror. I'm too scared to save my best friend. She reaches the stage, shakes Elanora's hand and sits down. And I finally see her face. She almost looks calm. But I see through it. I see the tears she won't let fall. And it breaks me, because I know had it been my name, she'd have volunteered in a heartbeat. I look away in shame.

And then, it somehow gets worse. At some point Elanora grabbed another piece of paper, and clears her throat again. "Jade Eiko". The crowd parts around me, and I take a shaky step forward. It's as if everything is in slow motion. The only thought in my mind is that I can't cry. I can't look weak.

I somehow make it to the stage. I quickly shake Elanora's hand and sit next to Naomi. We exchange a glance, and I see betrayal in her eyes. Traitor, her eyes say. But something softens when she meets my gaze. I must look terrified. She grabs my hand, and I know that somehow, Naomi is still my friend. Glisten looks at us almost apologetically, as if acknowledging that she could have saved one of us. But she doesn't say anything, and I know she doesn't really care. That's the way she was trained.

Unfortunately, Glisten isn't the only one who notices us.

"Are you two friends?" Elanora asks, and finally my head clears. Everything snaps back into focus, and I answer, since it doesn't look like Naomi will.

"We're friends" I simply say, trying to avoid breaking down on national television.

"Oh, how tragic. Two best friends, reaped together!" She sighs almost sympathetically.

"And now onto the boys!"

I don't pay much attention to the male tributes' reaping. I'm more focused on not crying and sitting still. But I notice that the male career, Valor, didn't volunteer until the second name was called. Looking over, I notice that the first one is an eighteen-year-old. He looks like he might have been considered for the academy, which would explain why Valor didn't volunteer for him. Valor himself is as calm and strong as Glisten, while the third boy looks like he might cry at any moment. He's younger than Valor, but I realize that Naomi is still the youngest of the tributes. Suddenly my fear turns to rage. How dare they! How dare they reap two friends! How dare they reap those of us who stand no chance! Somewhere in the back of my mind I understand that this must be how other districts feel every year, the ones that don't have careers, no one to volunteer for the weak.

But my rage fades as quickly as it came.

"Let us all welcome our six tributes. A round of applause for the tributes who have been chosen for the Hunger Games!" Elanora says, no doubt trying to keep the reaping on schedule.

To the credit of District 1, the applause is forced. I realize that they aren't happy with this. For once, my district isn't celebrating. For all that the other districts say we are favored, we are still a District. And this games proves it. We are no more favored than District 11 right now. And for some reason, this has shocked the entirety of District 1 into near silence.

Elanora tries once more to get the district to applaud louder, but gives up. I'm sure they'll make it louder on television anyways.

We are herded like cattle into the justice building for our allotted time to say goodbye to our family and friends. I am shown to my own room and sit down in a plush velvet chair. It's beautiful, but I can't admire it because as soon as I sit down everything I've been holding back suddenly bursts out in a rush of tears and sobs.

I don't think there are cameras here, but even if there are I don't think I could stop. My best friend and I have been sentenced to death. What chance do we have? Even if this allies thing gets us paired up with someone strong, even a career, we still have basically no chance. And even if, by some miracle, we survive the first day, at least one of us will die. And that's my fault. If I'd volunteered Naomi wouldn't be here. I might as well have gone up and called her name myself. I can't stop the rush of images from previous games, of a boy bleeding to death over days from a gash in his leg, a girl killing herself after being stung by tracker jackers, a terrifying mutt chasing after a group of careers, dragging them down one by one then leaving them to suffer, but before I can imagine anything more I feel a pair of arms surround me. I lean into my mother and cry, because I really, really, don't want to die. I feel another pair of arms around me, and I know it's my father. We stay like that for a while, but we only have so much time and eventually my mother breaks away.

"We have so much to tell you Jade, but always remember that we love you" my father says.

"First of all, we want you to keep your necklace. If you want, you can take it into the arena as your token. Jade used to symbolize protection and good luck, in the old world. Maybe it can bring you that during the games" my mother whispered, tears still in her eyes.

"Of course" I reply, holding the stone in my hand. Luck and protection. I'll need both no matter what happens in the arena. I hug her again, and I know that I'll never let the necklace out of my sight.

"Next, about the games. Having an ally will be strange, but try your best to get along with them. With so many more tributes, the games will be even tougher than normal, and your ally could very well save you"

"Stay with people you trust. Watch out for the careers. You won't be counted among them, and in a year like this, they're all still looking out for themselves, they won't hesitate to kill you" I look at my parents. I wonder if they really believe I can make it.

"What about Naomi?" I whispered.

"I don't know. I don't know Jade. It's terrible, to throw you in together" my mother says softly. "Do what your heart tells you to do. The games are cruel but you don't have to be. As much as I want to tell you to do whatever it takes to survive, I can't. I know you'll do the right thing"

"We'll always be proud of you, no matter what" my father adds.

"Just trust yourself, and everything will be okay"

They hug me again, one last time, and then the peacekeeper is telling us our time is up, and my parents are leaving, and it strikes me that this is most likely going to be the last time I ever see them.

"I love you!" I shout frantically, and the door closes. I'm left alone once again.

I'm left with just enough time to compose myself before groups of girls in my class come flooding in. They come bearing gifts of baked goods, flowers, wishes for me to do my best, and fake pity. I smile back, accepting the gifts and thanking them. I barely know any of them. I wonder why they're doing this, if it's just part of their act. In reality, behind their smiles, I can see their relief. It's not me, their faces say, it's not me. And sure, they probably do feel bad for me, but when I'm the one dying in the arena and they're sitting at home cheering for Glisten or Valor, well, it doesn't seem quite as sincere.

I still smile back at them though, because in their own way, they probably do care. I can deal with them, I've been doing it my whole life.

What I wasn't prepared for, was Naomi's parents. When they walked in, the slightly cheerful atmosphere fell. I don't want them to be here. I don't know what to say to them. That I'll protect her? I will, with every ounce of my strength and ability, to maybe even slightly make up for my failure, but what good will it do? I'm not a fighter, I'm not what they call arena-smart. At best, we'll die together.

But it turns out, I don't need to say anything. They hug me, and whisper that they know I'll try to protect her. That none of this should've happened. That they're sorry.

They leave quickly, but I notice that they left behind a glass bead, sitting on the arm of chair. It's beautiful, a handmade yellow and orange swirled piece of glass. It fits perfectly on my necklace, hanging next to the piece of jade. Orange and yellow. The colors of happiness and creativity. The colors of Naomi. I nearly break down crying again.

It's a good thing I don't though, because it's a short car ride to the train station and then the cameras are back on me. They perch everywhere like vultures, except that they only take pictures of their prey. I see my face on a screen nearby, and I'm glad that I appear to look strong. Not like Valor or Glisten, but I don't look as bad as I feel. I sense that I'm going to be learning how to do that quite a bit in the weeks to come.

It doesn't take long to find Naomi in the crowd. I grasp her hand, and we stand there waiting for the train.

I can see reporters interviewing Glisten not far away. She looks bored, but the interviewer is eating it up, hanging on every word she says. I wonder what they think of us. The weak District 1 tributes. Weak and District 1 tribute haven't belonged in the same sentence since the very beginning of the games, when no one knew what it would be like and no one had an advantage. Since then, District 1 tributes have always come through the Academy, prepared to fight and kill.

Right now, I'm glad for Valor and Glisten. The reporters are completely focused on them, and while I'm sure there are plenty of cameras trained on Naomi and I, at least we don't have to answer questions.

Naomi is holding together surprisingly well. I can tell she's been crying by the look in her eyes, but I doubt the cameras will pick up on that. In fact, on television, we're probably being all but overlooked. Between the careers' interviews and the younger boy tribute crying, they probably have their hands full. I pity him, he looks to be around my age, and he's no doubt going to die quickly. There's no way he was even considered for the Academy, he's rather scrawny and pale, and I don't recognize him as one of the few smart people in District 1. Although he could just be putting on an act, looking weak and then taking advantage of the fact that no one saw him as a threat. A couple of tributes have successfully pulled that off over the years, but they rarely win. They usually just don't have the brute strength to beat the careers. This would be a good year to try it though, with so many tributes everyone would overlook another crying face. I make a mental note to keep tabs on him, Marble, I think his name is.

I feel sick at the thought. Am I really already becoming like the careers, thinking of who will be the greatest threat? Who I should kill first? As if I could even kill someone.

Before I can continue that thought, I hear the train coming into the station, and peacekeepers part the crowd of cameras for us to walk through. We are practically shoved into the train, and I nearly fall off my feet when it immediately starts moving. Naomi barely manages to keep me upright.

The other tributes head off to other parts of the train, since it's too late to eat dinner now I assume they're probably going to their private rooms. Only Naomi and I are left standing near the doors.

Naomi turns to look at me, and though her gaze no longer carries that accusatory glare, I feel my face burn with shame. I'd hoped to at least have until tomorrow to pull myself together, figure out what to say to her. How do you tell someone that you could have saved them, but didn't?

But I owe her this. It's my fault she's here in the first place, my fault that she's most likely going to die. I owe it to her, to tell her the truth, why I didn't save her.

So I take a deep breath, and tell her.