Chapter 8

Can't Pretend

Love, I have wounds

Only you can mend,

You can mend

I guess that's love,

I can't pretend

I wake to a slight breeze and I sigh, smiling to myself.

My eyelids are red, which means that the sunlight must be streaming through my window.

I move my hand to cover my face, and roll over.

I finally open my eyes. I'm surprised when I notice I'm outside. I must have fallen asleep on the rooftop.

What's even more surprising, however, is the fact that I'm no longer on the bench, which I remember sleeping on.

I'm sitting on the mat. With Cato lying next to me.

Great.

Did he carry me from the bench to mat?

That's... Thoughtful.

I slowly sit up, and look over at his sleeping form. He looks like a little boy when he's sleeping.

It still looks early morning, like the sun has just risen. I don't know the time, so I walk through the garden to the bench.

I look at the panel, and it reads 7:03.

I need to meet Haymitch at 8:30 to go over our strategy for training. Today we start our first day.

I have time to have a picnic with Cato. I order up all different breakfast luxuries in the panel. I order a basket, waffles, bacon, pancakes, eggs, toast, jam, potatoes, fruit, juice, and silverware. It takes a few minutes because of the large order. When it all arrives I stuff it into the basket, and start towards the patch of grass between the training mat and the garden. I bring the blanket from the bench and lay it down on the grass.

I set up the food, which is still warm, on the plates and then I walk to the mat and gently try to wake Cato.

"Hey. Sleeping beauty. Breakfast time." I tease, shaking him.

God, this boy is a heavy sleeper. I shake him awake again. Nada.

"Cato. Wake up. Breakfast time." I say, loudly this time. I shake him harder this time.

Oh dear.

Here goes nothing.

I slap him. Hard.

His reaction is surprising?

Why? Because he has none.

Is he dead?

I feel his neck for a pulse. No, he has a steady pulse. He's alive.

I look around for something to use to wake him up. I don't see anything.

I walk through the garden to the panel. I punch in what I ordered and wait. When it arrives, I carry the bucket to the mat, then stop when I reach him.

I take a deep breath. I pray he won't attack me.

I lift the bucket of ice cold water, tilting it so it pours on his face.

He sputters awake, eyes wide, blubbers something, and then searches frantically for the source of his rude awakening.

I take a few steps back when his eyes land on the bucket in my hands, then my face.

My cheeks are bright red and I suddenly feel like this wasn't a good idea.

He is looking at me, eyes wide, shivering, with his jaw hanging open.

"I'm sorry?" I say, which accidentally comes out more like a question.

At my own comment, I burst into laughter. Unable to control myself.

His jaw snaps shut and clenches tightly. I can hear his teeth grind together.

"Care to explain yourself?" He asks rudely. I don't take it personally. If I woke up like that, I'd be pissed, too.

I roll my eyes when my laughter dies out.

"You have a problem with waking up. Care to explain that? I was trying to wake you up gently, but you didn't even move. I even slapped you!" I say.

I mean seriously, he didn't even flinch. Is this a medical condition?

He sighs. He runs a hand through his wet hair, and rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I've heard about that problem. Sorry." He grins sheepishly.

"It's okay. I made breakfast." I say smiling, and gesture towards our picnic.

"Man! You made this. How?" He asks, rushing over to the blanket.

"Well.. I ordered the food. I made the arrangement, though." I bite my lip.

He laughs. I crack a smile.

I sit down and begin to pour us glasses of orange juice and a steamy brown liquid.

I'm thankful that I managed to only get his face wet and not his shirt so he won't have to strip.

Am I really thankful though? The honest answer is no.

He sits down across from me with his legs sprawled out, while I sit with my legs folded.

I take a sip of my orange juice, and he takes a sip of the brown liquid.

I go to follow his actions, and hesitantly pick up the cup.

Cautiously, I smell it. It smells sweet and delicious.

But so does sleep syrup and that tastes just about as good as Mrs. Mellark's weekly special. Which isn't good or special at all.

I wrinkle my nose and dab my finger in the liquid to gauge the temperature so I don't burn my tongue.

It seems all right. I have that warm feeling again. That warm feeling must be Cato's gaze. It must have been his gaze all along every time I felt that way.

I look up at him and he's grinning down at me.

"Go on, you'll like it. It's hot chocolate." He says.

My eyes go wide. Chocolate?

"I've never had chocolate before. One time I saw a chocolate chip cookie in the bakery, but nobody could afford it, so it was never bought." I said, looking down at the cup.

He clears his throat, "There's a first time for everything. It tastes sweet. It has milk in it, too."

I take a sip and sigh in satisfaction, closing my eyes.

Then I gulp the whole thing down in less than a minute.

I don't even realize I did but when I do I blush at my eating habits and look up. He's chuckling quietly and holding out his cup to me.

I start to shake my head but he insists, "Please? I've had it before. Plus I want to see that look on your face again. It was so adorable." He says laughing affectionately.

I smile and take the cup, sipping slower this time.

I began to pull a plate of waffles toward me and began slicing them for the both of us. He did the same for the pancakes.

We began eating in silence.

I have never tasted waffles or pancakes or bacon before.

Bacon was by far my favorite.

Possibly my favorite food of all time now after I've tasted it.

I think Cato noticed because he pushed his portion towards me. I grinned and didn't bother trying to refuse because I wanted it.

The food was all so delicious, and I was focused on trying to memorize the flavors so I could explain them to people back home. If I ever saw them again, that is.

"Have you ever had this before?" Cato asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Which one?"

"Any of it." He replies. He looks so curious.

"I've had an orange slice before. Once. My father.. He-he rushed home from the mines. I remember that day clearly. I was probably seven. He came in all flustered, out of breath and flushed. Like he ran for days. He walked straight to me and Katniss and said he saved it for us. Apparently someone was selling some cheap at lunch. He bought one for me and Katniss. I've never had orange juice though. I've had some fruits though.. An apple. They're rare at home. And we eat scrambled eggs a lot." I say. I don't mention where we find the eggs, which is in the woods.

He is silent for so long and I look up at him. He looks upset, and I wonder if it's because of what I said.

He looks down at his hands, then at a band around his wrist.

"It's 8:28, we should get going." He murmurs quietly.

"Oh no! Haymitch! I have to meet him in two minutes." I'm rushing to clean up the plates, shoving them into the basket.

How could the time have passed so quickly?

I weave through the garden to the bench, and place the dishes on the panel area to send them back.

I grab my book and quickly rush back to Cato, grabbing his hand and taking the stairs two at a time.

When we reach my door, I'm slightly winded.

I kiss his cheek, "I'll see you at training. Completely ignoring your ass." I smile at him and rush through the door before I could see his reaction.

I think back at how soft his skin was against my lips.. No! Stop that.

I sigh and hurry back into my bedroom and see a pile of clothes on my bed. Cinna must have picked out an outfit.

Training doesn't actually start until 9:00.

I don't have time for a shower so I change into the clothes: form fitting black pants and a black short sleeve shirt. They are easy to move around in, and are paired with black combat boots.

I quickly re-braid my hair and take my pin from my old shorts pocket and attach it to my shirt.

I have worn it with every single outfit since I've been here.

It is a reminder of my home. It is not only a reminder especially of Katniss, but my father and his fascination with mockingjays. I push those thoughts to the back of my mind, because I'm late.

I sigh, and quickly dash out of the room. I make a detour to the kitchen and grab a red apple. I take a bite as I enter the lounge room. I take a seat beside Haymitch and slump in my seat.

I'm slouching and relaxed now that I'm here.

He looks at me intently, when I'm mid-bite, "We're going to discuss where you spent your night later." He says accusingly.

My mouth is frozen on the apple, so I finish the action and chew off the bite.

I just fell asleep on the roof. He can't be upset about that. Unless he knew Cato was there. I ignore that horrid, yet possibly accurate thought and turn my attention elsewhere.

Swallowing, I turn about as red as the apple.

"Good morning Effie, Good morning Eli. How was your night?" I ask the two who are sitting in the couch across from mine.

"Oh, it was lovely! I was reading all night, actually. Oh Prim, I'm reading the scene where Elizabeth meets Mr. Darcy's sister. Do you remember?" She asks.

I've only read the book thirty times.

"Of course! It's one of my favorite scenes. It shows him interacting with his family and expressing his true cha-"

"Enough." Haymitch says suddenly, interrupting me discussing one of my favorite fictional characters. I pout.

I love discussing books almost as much as I love reading them. Haymitch knows this. He's the one I discuss them with! I've never told him, but he just knows this about me. Like so many other things.

That's the main reason why he reads them first, because he knows how much I love it.

"We have an hour. You can discuss books later. We need to discuss strategy. I'm trying to decide if I want you two to show off your skills or hide them. I know yours, Rosie. But Eli, what are yours? Can you use weapons?"

"I can. I'm good with knives and axes. Um, I was on the wrestling team. I can lift heavy weights." He says.

"He's really fast! Remember in grade school, you won every race? And don't you run everyday? I know I hear you bragging to the girls at school at every chance." I say, smirking at him.

He blushes and looks at the ground. Is he embarrassed at his flirting antics?

Haymitch chuckles.

"I just want to know if you two are interested in an alliance. Together. Decide now." He says. I look in his eyes and I already see the answer in them.

"Yes. If you want to, Eli." I say, voicing Haymitch's thoughts. I see Haymitch nod in approval.

"Yes. I agree." Eli says quietly.

Ever since we got here Eli has suddenly changed. He used to be outgoing and flirty and confident. But now he's timid and shy and self conscious?

Odd. I'll have to speak to him later.

"Okay. That's settled. You two have each others backs now. In training and in the arena. Now you need to decide if you want to join another alliance. Has anyone come up to you yet?"

When I think of joining alliances, I immediately think of Rue and Thresh, with their sibling bond, and I think of Cato.

They are all people I would ally with. They haven't asked or anything, but I would ask them.

The problem with Cato is that he would be where the careers are. I wouldn't join the careers.

But I should probably mention Marvel's offer.

"Marvel offered me an alliance. With the careers." I say quietly, looking at Haymitch intently.

He rolls his eyes, "And I'm going to assume that you politely declined." He said.

I grin. "That assumption is accurate."

He harrumphs, and I glance at the clock. 8:47.

"All right. So don't show your strengths, then. The careers will use it against you. I want you to stay together and put up a united front. Act like friends. So I guess act normally. But I only want you two together for only half the time. If you're together the whole time it'll look like you're dependent on each other. Which you're not. Stick to survival stations, no weaponry. But at the end of each day, choose one station and show off your skills. I don't care if it's weapons or knots or starting a damn fire. Just impress them enough to scare them a little. Live up to the threatening sparks at opening ceremonies. But do it in the final hour only. Gives them something to think about." He says.

I smile and nod my head. I go over the stations I'll do in my head, and I pick the three (one for each day): archery, knives, and snares.

They're my best skills in weapons since Katniss, Rory, and Gale taught me everything about them.

By the time I finish my apple, it's time to go down the elevator.

Haymitch mentions that there may be mentors down there, because they are allowed to view and help their (or other) tributes with training.

Haymitch and Effie ride down with us to the training floor, which is above the lobby.

I am holding Haymitch's hand with my right, and Eli's with my left.

I release Haymitch's hand, pulling him into a hug instead.

I practically had to beg him not to come to training, because I knew he'd be overprotective.

Shocker.

After groveling and almost resorting to begging on my knees, he reluctantly agreed.

"Good luck, Rosie. But be careful. These people are dangerous." He whispers, kissing my forehead.

I nod and I take a deep breath and tighten my grip on Eli's hand.

The elevator doors open.

I feel 22 pairs of eyes on me.

Here goes nothing.