Thanks to Rosemarie Benson for Bess and stuckathomebgs for Curare.

District One Reapings

Curare Lazuli, 18, District One

I glanced at my alarm clock. One's Reapings are at nine-thirty and it's already eight forty-five. I groan. I drag myself out of bed, knowing Charlie will if I don't. It's too late to get any last-minute training in, so I pull on my new suit- a green one with a shimmering gold vest. I quickly gel my hair before heading downstairs, trying to make it look as though I've been awake for a while so Charlie doesn't tease me, which is likely happening anyway.

"Hey, Cur," she greets me. She's already dressed in a flowy purple blouse and short black skirt for her last Reaping. "What took you so long?"

I glance at the stove clock. It's nine o'clock now.

I shrug.

She grins, flipping a piece of mousy brown hair out of her face. Some of it's braided back to keep it out of the way, but it still falls forward into her face. "Was it your hair?"

I put a fake-innocent expression on my face and shrug again. Charlie laughs before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "C'mon, I used my excellent cooking skills to make some toast for breakfast. Let's eat," she orders.

We sit at our small table, feasting on toast for a few minutes. It's not bad toast, actually. Especially for homemade. Charlie knows perfectly well that we could have ordered a chef to make us breakfast today. She wants something.

As I gobble down my last piece of toast, Charlie asks me, "Cur... I know this is your last chance to Volunteer, but do you really have to?"

There it is.

"Charlie, I can't just let my training go to waste," I explain. "I've already been chosen. There's no backing out anymore."

She sighs. "You could let someone else Volunteer, you know. There's still time for you to stay with me. We don't need the money, Cur. We've got a big house already and you have a job. There's nothing to gain from the Games."

I shake my head. "I can't disappoint my parents."

"I... I just don't want to lose you," she mumbles. "We're already engaged. I want to get married, Cur. There are monsters that will be in there that want to kill you. What if I have to watch you die? How do you expect me to do that?" There are tears in her eyes.

"Charlie," I reply gently. "I will make it through the arena. There's no way I'm going to die in there. I've got you to fight for, and that's more than the other tributes will be fighting for already."

She meets my gaze, sees my confidence. She wavers. "A-are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive," I declare. Charlie relaxes the tension she was holding and bites into her last piece of toast.

As soon as she finishes, we leave to make the short walk to the square, holding hands. Eventually we have to let go to get blood drawn and head to the eighteen-year-old section. She gives me a quick squeeze before walking off to find some of her friends, and I head to the eighteen-year-old boy's section.

Elizabeth Margaret "Bess" Andrews, 18, District One

I only let her mother fuss over me for a few minutes. "Mom! I'm, like, going to be fine!" I insist, and she finally just gives me a hug, taking a second to adjust my white-capped sleeves before heading off to view the Reapings with my father in tow. He gives me a quick grin before following her.

It doesn't take long for me to locate Kylie in the sea of eighteen-year-old girls. Her blonde hair is braided up so elegantly she draws attention to herself immediately, without trying. She greets me with enthusiasm.

"Bess! You're so pretty!" she squeals, hugging me. "How did you do your hair like that? It's so pretty!"

It's only a sleek braid over my shoulder, plain and simple, but I oblige Kylie. We chatter on about hair and clothes for a little while, the other girls avoiding eye contact with me. They don't understand why Kylie is friends with me. At least half of them probably think we're dating, how much time we spend with each other.

Just to set the record straight: I don't have a crush on Kylie. The girl I do have a crush on is off-limits and doesn't know I exist.

Kylie and I eventually stop chatting as the mayor begins his speech: same speech he's been giving since the beginning of time. Can't he, like, spice it up a bit? Just a little? That way, maybe less people would yawn.

"Now, let's begin with our female tribute!" our escort finally screeches into the microphone. "And our female tribute is..."

Curare Lazuli, 18, District One

"...Charlotte Feierfell! Charlotte, please come up to the stage!"

No. No. Nonononono.

Not Charlie.

I look to the eighteen-year-old-girl's section, where Charlie is shakily trying to put on a confident face as she walks towards the stage. Her eyes are running over the crowd, trying to find me, trying to find her parents and her older sister Felicity. She stands next to our escort, who then chirps, "Do we have any Volunteers?"

Please please please please please someone anyone please.

"I Volunteer as tribute!" a voice cries out. A girl in a white-capped dress dashes forward, a slight expression of... is that panic? on her face.

Charlie relaxes and hurries back into the girl's section. I relax. She's safe. She's okay. I'm so busy being relieved, I miss the girl's name. But that's okay; I'll get to know her later. She seems strong and trained, at least. And she Volunteered for Charlie. I owe her one.

"Now, for our male tribute..." the escort continues.

Elizabeth Margaret "Bess" Andrews, 18, District One

"Heracles Mozart, please come to the stage!"

"I volunteer as tribute!" doesn't take much long to come after. The fourteen-year-old boy melts back into the crowd. I study the boy who has Volunteered.

Not him.

I know perfectly well who this boy is before he states his name into the mic. "Curare Lazuli." He's a bit pale in the face. His dark blue eyes are searching the crowd for Charlotte. He doesn't relax until he spots her. He's so worried, he forgets to be cocky and swaggering.

"District One, your tributes!" the escort announces. The crowd applauds, and then we're led off the stage to say our good-byes.

Curare Lazuli, 18, District One

Charlie rushes into the room I'm waiting in and throws herself into my arms, crying. I hold her tightly and rock her until she stops. She smells like peaches and salt.

"Cur," she eventually mumbles into my ear, "I don't want you to go."

"I have to," I tell her. "But I'm coming back soon, okay? It'll only be a little while."

She sniffles. "Okay."

We sit together for a little while in silence, enjoying each other's presence before she is forced to leave.

"I have your token," she eventually tells me, handing me a necklace with a single blue bead hanging on it.

"My lapis lazuli?" I smile. "Thanks, Charlie." She fastens the first piece of gem I ever mined around my neck and gives me a kiss.

"You know, when I come back, my father won't make me work in the mines anymore," I remind her. "We'll get to live in a mansion together."

"I know."

We kiss, and then she leaves, my parents coming in to tell me how proud they are and give me some instructions on strategy. Nothing entirely noteworthy- that's how confident they are. No tears with them.

Lastly, my best pals come in- Ray, Sander, and Easton. We joke around a bit until Ray finally relaxes his already decently cold personality, and Sander recovers from a shy conversation with his crush, and Easton accepts that I'm going into the Games. They give me hugs and claps on the back.

Then, it's time to board the train.

Elizabeth Margaret "Bess" Andrews, 18, District One

My parents come in for a few minutes to congratulate me and tell me to come home before leaving me again. I'm relieved when Oliver and Kylie come in.

"Bess!" Kylie squeals before rushing in for a hug. "You'll be amazing, I know it! There's no way you're not coming back! And if you don't, I'll kill you! Got it?" she demands.

I laugh and hug her back. "I promise," I reply sincerely. "There's, like, absolutely no way you'll see me die on live TV."

Kylie smiles. "Didn't think so!"

Oliver finally gets a word in. He hugs me for a long minute before telling me, "Kylie's right. There's no way I'm watching you die on live TV, either." He's serious, his light locks clipped short and pale green eyes filled with worry.

"I promise, I promise. You'll see me in the flesh again," I reply. Peacekeepers enter to escort Kylie and Oliver out- they haven't been quick, even with the rapidly-paced conversation (Kylie's great at taking a long time to do absolutely anything). Before they leave, Kylie shoves her bracelet in my hand.

"Don't die!" she calls over her shoulder.

"I won't!" I yell back.

Oliver fixes me with a stare. "Seriously, don't."

"I won't."

I've been expecting them to be my last, but one more person shuffles in- a girl.

Charlotte.

"Thank you for Volunteering," she tells me. She has slowly-drying tears tracks on her face. She's been crying.

"No problem," I reply, putting the bracelet on my wrist and taking a second to admire it.

"If Cur doesn't win," she continues, "I hope you do."

I smile. "Thanks."

She turns to leave. I hesitate. This is probably my last chance. If I don't win, she needs to know. "Wait!"

She turns back around. "Yes?"

I hesitate again. "Since middle school, I've, like, you know..."

Realization and recognition dawn in her eyes. I nod.

"...liked you. A lot."

Charlotte suddenly hugs me. "Thanks for telling me," she whispers into my ear, cutting off my awkward stammering. I blush crimson.

"T-that doesn't change anything?" I ask, a little surprised as well as embarrassed. I didn't know blushes could be so hot. And while I've told people I like girls, I haven't told the specific girl... until now.

She gives me a squeeze. "It shouldn't." She gives me a kiss on the cheek. "For luck."

I'm rendered, like, speechless.

I'm still in a lightheaded daze when she leaves and when I'm escorted onto the train. I'm so out of it I forget to ignore and dislike Curare.

Charlotte Feierfell was not the only reason I Volunteered, but that reason is now justified.

So, that's Bess and Curare (pronounced sir-ra-re).

Who did you prefer and why?

Who do you think will make it farther in the Games?