A/N Hey everyone!
So, we are officially done with Career tributes and have moved on to the rest of this year's tributes! Hope you've liked everyone so far. Anyways, not much else to say, so enjoy the chapter and don't forget to leave a review on your way out!
Paxton "Connor" Stoll POV
I wake up to the sound of coughing coming from the bed beside my own. I roll over, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes with a barely-concealed yawn before finally opening them to face my twin brother, Connor. I can see my fatigue mirrored on his face, identical to mine, although he looks much worse then I feel. Face white as a sheet, and eyes bloodshot and shining. Not to mention he's probably on the verge of coughing up his entire stomach if he continues at it. He looks over at me and, realizing I'm awake, perks up slightly, trying to mask his weakness.
"Hey, Pax," he whispers hoarsely.
Before I can say anything else, his face goes impossibly paler and within seconds he is doubled over the side of the bed puking up all of last night's dinner.
Oh, God.
I cringe, turning away from my brother as he continues to vomit all over his side of our not-so-big bedroom. I wait until he quiets down before finally getting up to help. I jog over to the kitchen to grab a rag and dampen it in the sink before heading back to my room to care for my brother.
He is attacking me with scratchy, hoarse apologies the second I enter the room.
"God, Pax, I'm so sorry, I don't know what's with me this morning! I've been awake since 4 just feeling like crap but I didn't want to wake you…"
I can't help but chuckle at him. "Don't worry about it, bro. As long as you don't get any of last night's dinner onto my beautiful face, we're cool."
He laughs weakly before rolling his eyes playfully at me. "Yeah, sure. But I did manage to get some on my more beautiful face, which is much more important right now."
Yeah, even identical twins argue about who's better-looking. I guess it's a universal rule of siblings or something. I grin at his words with a shake of my head before dabbing at the areas around his mouth with the rag, wiping all the excess vomit away.
"There. Now that you're all cleaned up, your face is almost as attractive as mine."
"You wish."
I leave the room once again to rinse off the rag before tackling the floor, which is a lot worse than his face. The stench is starting to fill the room due to its small size and it takes all the strength I have not to gag. I have the floor clean within minutes, though, and after tossing the rag into the sink to be washed later, I turn back to Connor who's looking miserable in his bed.
"Geeze, Connor, it's just a little puking. You'll live." I joke, trying to put a smile on his face.
His facial expression doesn't change, and he turns to me with panic-stricken eyes.
"Paxton, have you forgotten what day it is?"
What is he on about? Today is Sunday, just a regular Sunday for…oh, wait. It isn't just a regular Sunday. Today's Reaping Day.
And my brother won't be able to make it.
For a split second, I'm just as panicked as my brother. After all, missing the reaping holds severe penalties. But then I realize something. My brother has nothing to be worried about.
"Look, Connor, it'll be fine. You won't be reaped. I mean, what are the chances, right? Out of hundreds of boys, what are the odds you'll be reaped? Unless they decide to put your name in the girl's box as well since you're such a girly girl."
He rolls his eyes, still appearing unconvinced, although he does crack the tiniest of smiles.
"You won't be reaped, so it's okay if you don't show."
Connor nods his head slowly, approving of everything I'm saying. His face then curls back into a frown, just seconds later.
"But what about sign-in? When they see I haven't been checked off…"
"Got that covered. Have you forgotten that we're identical twins? All I need to do is check in under my name and then sneak back into the line and check in again under yours. No big deal. It'll be just like any other one of our usual pranks! I'm actually surprised we never tried this in the past."
Connor lifts his gaze to the ceiling, thinking the idea over. He then looks back at me, grinning from ear to ear.
"I hate to admit this, but…you are brilliant."
I grin back at him and attempt to flip my hair like a sassy girl.
"I know."
Savannah Moral POV
"OW!"
I immediately turn to glare at my friend Cida, shushing her harshly.
"Jesus, Cida! Do you wanna get caught?"
She glares back, completely unintimidated by my scolding.
"Well, it's not my fault Joc doesn't know how to walk! He stepped on my heel!"
Joc then steps in to defend himself, "Well, maybe if you walked a little faster-"
"Oh my god, who cares? Just shut the hell up and get a move on already, we don't have all day!" Penha intervenes impatiently.
It's almost like a typical morning at the community home. Almost. Of course, the reaping is hanging over all of our heads like a black cloud, but that doesn't stop us. Us being myself and my five best friends: Joc, the klutz; Rosario, the brainiac; Cida, the drama-queen, Penha, the brutally honest; and Bianca, the peacemaker.
Me? Well, I'm just me. The rebellious girl who can't ever seem to follow the rules. The girl who was mysteriously dropped off into the community home as a newborn, without any trace of birth parents at all. Savannah Moral isn't even my real name; I made it. Well, the last name at least. My birth name is completely unknown.
Anyway, my friends and I are spending the beginning of Reaping Day the same way we'd spend any other morning – stirring up trouble. This time in the form of a kitchen raid, since this damn community home insists on feeding us no more than one meal a day. It is not the first time we do this, and we've been caught and punished countless times, but it's worth the amazing feeling of actually having food in you.
Which hopefully we'll all get to feel today. If Cida and Joc can stop arguing so loudly, that is.
"Guys, come on, Penha's right we really need to hurry! The wake-up bell is gonna ring soon and I doubt anyone will believe we were just headed to the bathroom. I mean, it's us. And we're all together." Bianca insists.
We all nod in agreement, Joc and Cida glowering at each other one last time before continuing on towards the kitchen. We tiptoe down the long hallways of the community home in complete silence, our breathing the only source of sound. Finally, after several agonizingly long minutes, the kitchen comes into view. Entirely empty of people, but absolutely filled to the brim with food.
Rosario speaks up first, whispering the game-plan as he always does.
"Alright. Cida, Bianca and Jo – no, bad idea – Cida, Bianca and I will go into the kitchen and grab whatever we can. Savannah, you need to stand guard outside the kitchen and make sure to look over at the back door as well. Penha, you're gonna stay at the other end of the hall and warn Savannah immediately of any threats so that she can then warn us. Joc, just be on general alert and feel free to just come into the kitchen if you sense anything at all. Good with that?"
We all nod in agreement and get into position: Penha at the other end, me just at the entrance of the kitchen, and Joc simply roaming up and down the hall. Cida, Bianca and Rosario immediately sprint into the kitchen, Rosario whispering instructions on who will take which cupboard. I watch as Cida grabs three loaves of bread, shoving them into her shirt before moving on to the fruit in the fruit bowl. Bianca heads for the pantry, plucking a box of crackers and about a dozen granola bars from the cupboard and tucking them under her arms. Rosario tackles the fridge, pulling out an entire block of cheese and some yogurt and water bottles. They seem to be doing well until a panicked Penha rushes over.
"Sav! She's coming! The Headmaster is coming, god dammit!"
I whip my head around to face the end of the hall, where Joc is frantically trying to convince the Headmaster (who, quite frankly, is kind of a bitch) that he was only headed to the bathroom. She doesn't appear very convinced.
I dash into the kitchen, making all three of our raiders jump and turn toward me guiltily before relaxing at the sight of me.
"Don't get too comfortable guys, the Headmaster is here! We need to get the hell out of here and fast!"
"Yes, you do," an unfamiliar voice agrees.
I turn to glare at the Headmaster. I hate her. Actually, hate is a huge understatement. I loath her.
"We were just taking turns going into the bathroom. We're done now, we were just panicking because we were afraid you'd be mad." I lie smoothly.
The Headmaster smirks at me. She doesn't say anything, although after several seconds of silence she abruptly starts to laugh loudly and sharp, causing Bianca and Cida to jump three feet in the air.
"As amazing as your lying skills are, Ms. Moral, you've done it so many times – and often about the same exact thing – that I simply cannot believe you.."
The Headmaster continues to lecture me about my "improper behavior", no longer paying any attention to anyone else in the room.
Which gives me an idea.
I turn towards Cida, Bianca and Rosario, their clothes practically bursting with hidden food, and give them a classic signal. Get the hell out of here, I'll get myself out of this.
Rosario seems to get what I'm saying, and whispers into the ears of the two girls beside him. They nod and before I know it, they've sprinted from the room, pulling Penha and Joc with them.
But the Headmaster notices.
"What! Ms. Fenly, Ms. Tanner, Ms. Mills, Mr. Ryder and Mr. Monty, get back over here this instant!"
I take that as my cue and run from the room, relishing in the fact that despite being caught, we managed to get the food. The Headmaster appears to have forgotten about catching us and has turned her attention to the kitchen, attempting to figure out what was taken.
The wake-up bell rings, a shrill and unpleasant tone, and I cover my ears as I run. I don't slow down until I've reached the girl's room for 16-18 year olds, where my friends are all waiting in front of the door.
"Holy shit, that was awesome!"
"Did the Headmaster see us?"
"Crackers?! I love you, Bianca…"
I decide now would be the perfect time to break the news of the Headmaster's knowledge.
"She knows, guys. She saw you all. We need to hide the food. I'd suggest the floorboards in the guy's room, the loose one near Ross's bed. Put it under there, they won't expect a thing."
The boys nod and walk away, Cida and Bianca in tow with their share of the food. Penha turns to me with a smirk.
"Well, this was an eventful way to begin Reaping Day, wasn't it?"
Paxton "Connor" Stoll POV
"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Connor moans from his bed, still clearly worried about his little no-show act at the reaping.
I sigh in exasperation and turn away from our tiny closet to look him right in the eye.
"Yes, Connor, you'll be fine. Two poor souls will get reaped just like every other year, and then I'll go get us some money and food the same way we always do."
Connor nods his head half-heartedly before laying his head back down onto his pillow.
I know what you're thinking. You think that when I say getting money and food, that I'll be headed over to some black market or something, like that Hob place in District 12 the Capitol burned down during the Mockingjay rebellion all those years ago. But that's really not the case. We don't have anything like that in District 5 cause most people simply don't need it. But my family does. We've needed it desperately since my father died.
My father.
He was an amazing person, who taught Connor and I everything we needed to know on how to get food and money.
He taught us how to pickpocket and steal. But not for robbery purposes or to be a bad person. Just because he had to. We had to. It was the only way for us to get food, and still is. Connor and I often roam the streets, trying to get our hands on whatever we can. Reaping day has always been a traditional day to go all out with our "shopping" even before we were eligible to be reaped. Our father helped us for several years.
Until his death, that is. And I don't mean a peaceful, "dying in your sleep" kind of death. I mean he was shot. By peacekeepers. Right in front of his two then-six-year-old sons. It was hard to deal with – I don't even remember anything about that day, I've blocked it out so many times – but we survived. All of us. Connor and I have become inseparable and have since followed in my father's footsteps, getting whatever food and money we can for our mother. I'll have to work alone today after the reaping, but I can handle it. It wouldn't be the first time.
I turn back towards the closet and stare at the limited choices of reaping outfits for several seconds. I only have about a handful of possible outfits in there, but I still need to look good. Not to mention I'm gonna have to bring a second shirt if I wanna convince the Capitol resident at check-in that I'm not the person she just saw ten minutes ago.
Eventually I find myself torn between three shirts and two pairs of pants. I look over at Connor, whose eyes are slowly starting to close after being up half the night, for his opinion.
"Hey, Connor, sorry before you fall asleep can you just give me your opinion?"
He nods his head, not bothering to open his eyes.
"Last time I checked, you need to have your eyes open to be able to see, bro." I chuckle.
Connor smiles amusedly before opening his eyes and scanning the shirts I'm holding up carefully. Three shirts, all equally wrinkled; one a muddy gray, another red, and another bright blue. Two pairs of pants; basically jeans and a pair of frayed trousers.
"For the shirts, I say bring the grey and red. That blue is just not you, man." He says tiredly, grinning at the thought of me in blue, "And as for the pants, bring the trousers. I know neither of us give a damn about the reaping, but jeans might be a bit too casual."
I put the rejected blue shirt and jeans back in the closet without a second glance.
"Why, thank you for the insight, Connor "Passion for Fashion" Stoll!"
He doesn't respond, and when I look over at him I see he has finally fallen asleep. I try to keep as quiet as possible while tiptoeing out of the room and slowly shut the door behind me.
Savannah Moral POV
Once all of the food has finally been hidden safely under the floor Cida, Bianca, Penha and I head back to our room to start getting ready for the dreaded reaping. Ugh. We don't even have time to enjoy the food we just barely managed to grab? But, oh well. The reaping only lasts about a half hour anyway, and most of that time is spent at check-in.
I walk on over to my bed, where a see a meager little pile of clothing. My options for the reaping outfit.
You see, at the community home, we don't get any clothing of our own. Every morning, they distribute items of clothing at random by placing a small pile on your bed. You can choose to wear whatever you want out of your pile. Most people just end up trading each other and mismatching to create whatever outfit they want, but I don't see the point. As long as you've got clothes on your back, right?
Laid out in front of me are a blue V-neck top, a light purple blouse, and an ugly knee-length yellow dress that I immediately toss aside. To complement the tops, I am given the choice of a short white skirt or a longer black one. After thinking it over for several seconds, I finally decide on the blue shirt and white skirt. I notice there have also been shoes laid out at the foot of the bed but I decide to do my hair and make-up first.
I put my slippers on and leave the room, heading for the bathroom, where the mirror will most likely be packed with girls all frantically trying to make themselves look absolutely perfect. Just like every other year. Sigh.
I brace myself as I approach the bathroom, already hearing the sound of about thirty different female voices coming from behind the door. I fling it open without hesitation, fully exposing myself to the chaos that lies within. I can't even see the mirror, just an array of heads with a variety of different hair colors blocking the view. I almost immediately spot Bianca, struggling to get herself out of the corner that the other girls have forced her into. At the sight of this, I immediately push my way through the crowd towards Bianca to rescue her. She gives me a relieved smile as we painstakingly make our way out of the bathroom.
"Holy shit, I wanted to kill myself in there!" she exclaims.
"So did I, and I was only in there for about 5 minutes. Come, we're going into the men's room."
Bianca nods her head without hesitation, and we cross the hallway over to the boy's bathroom. It's something I've been doing since I was 12, but every year I always try the girl's room just in case with no luck.
Once in the eerily silent bathroom, I finally get a good look at what Bianca's wearing. A simple light blue dress. It looks good on her. Compliments her brown hair nicely. I wonder if it was offered to her or if she traded someone for it. Probably the latter; it's too conveniently her style.
Without a second glance at her, I turn to look at my own reflection in the mirror. My raven-black hair, usually pin-straight, is like a birds nest on my head from the night, my skin unusually flushed from the hassle in the girl's bathroom a few minutes ago. I resist the urge to cringe as I grab a hairbrush and begin to comb out my hair, straightening it out to bring it back to its usual texture. I can see Bianca doing the same beside me, her eyes narrowed with comically intense concentration. When my hair is to my liking, I move on to makeup. I don't put much; just enough to make my blue eyes "pop" as Cida once put it. Just as I'm finishing up, Bianca's voice makes me jump.
"Hey, Sav, you done beautifying yourself? We need to leave in, like, five minutes."
I whirl around to see that Bianca is already prepared for the reaping, and she has almost twice as much makeup as me. Even her hair looks like it should have taken two hours to prepare! It shouldn't surprise me considering Bianca has always been the first one ready, but it still does. Every single year.
"I'm ready, Bia, I just need to pick out my shoes. Do me a favor and go see if the others are all ready?"
She nods and leaves the room, just as a little boy I recognize from the thirteen-year-old group walks in. His eyes widen in horror at the sight of us.
"Y-you-you shouldn't be here! This is for guys!"
Bianca immediately bursts out laughing, but I'm not amused. Maybe I should shove him into the chaos of the girl's room. I'm sure he'll understand why we're here after that.
"Move it, kid, we need to get ready. The girl's bathroom is like a damn jungle! Go in there, and take a look if you want." I say with a sickly sweet grin.
His face pales – because of me or the image I just gave him, I'm not so sure – and he runs over to the nearest urinal, staring us down until we finally leave him in privacy.
Bianca shakes her head at me, still giggling.
"Jesus, Savannah, do you have to terrify the little kids like that?"
"Yes. They need to learn that life isn't all sunshine and lollipops." I reply with a grin.
Without any further conversation, we part ways; me to the room to find my shoes, and Bianca to the boys room to see if Rosario and Joc are ready.
I look at the three pairs of shoes near the bed. A pair of sandals, one of sparkly, over-done high heels, and a pair of simple black pumps. I quickly decide on the sandals before finally leaving the room, where everyone but Cida is waiting.
"Where's Cida?" I ask, "I didn't see her in the room…"
"Oh, she's in there alright. Taking her sweet-ass time as usual.." Penha answers hotly.
She then pokes her head into the doorway of the room with a sharp "Cida, hurry the hell up!" startling at least three girls, none of which are Cida.
After several seconds, Cida finally emerges from the room, all dolled up as usual. Her style is kind of like Bianca's except she actually takes the amount of time you'd expect. As you can see.
"God, I was ready! I just couldn't decide on my shoes!" Cida pouts, triggering a major eye-roll on the part of Penha.
I look down at Cida's shoes. Bright red and sparkly high heels, the same color as her top. Of course. They practically have "Cida" written all over them.
"Alright, let's go. We're gonna be late!" Rosario whines, shooing us all down the stairs and out the door of the community home.
Let's just get this over with, I think to myself, I just want my food, already.
Paxton "Connor" Stoll POV
I wave good-bye to my mother as I make my way towards the long line of kids waiting to be checked in. It feels weird to be alone; normally by this point Connor and I are laughing at the Capitol people's style together. This time, I don't even give them a second glance; I'm too busy reminding myself of which twin I'm to play.
Paxton. You're Paxton right now. Paxton Stoll. You've got the same blood as Connor, they won't suspect a thing…
I feel myself getting more and more anxious as the line moves forward, each inch I advance bringing on a new wave of shivers and fear. What if I get the same person the second time? What if she recognizes me? It's a strange, foreign feeling to me…I haven't felt nervous or afraid since my first pickpocketing trip without Dad, and that was a good nine years ago. I've long since forgotten how unpleasant it is.
Eventually, there's only one person left in front of me, a tiny twelve year old with a pink ribbon in her hair. She doesn't look at all afraid, and so I manage to cope with the stressful situation by picturing Connor by my side, teasing me over the fact that this little girl is more fearless than I am. Hey, it's realistic!
"Next!"
The little girl walks over to the available booth and holds out her hand before the attendant can tell her to, whispering a name which I don't hear. She must have an older sibling who taught her how the reaping works; usually twelve year olds are hopelessly confused, much to the Capitol people's irritation. I know Connor and I both were.
I almost miss the call of "Next!" that is directed my way, too busy watching the little girl getting her finger pricked by the Capitol attendant.
I take a deep breath before hastily making my way over to the booth. The woman smiles with an excited "Happy Hunger Games!" before grabbing my wrist and pricking my finger, not bothering to tell me what to do.
"Name, please."
"Paxton Stoll."
She nods her head, checking me off. She then waves her hand, wordlessly dismissing me.
"Next!"
I comtinue on into the square, making it seem like I'm headed to the 15 section like anyone else before making a quick detour to go change. I keep a close eye out for the peacekeepers and before I know it, I'm back in the check-in line, way at the back in my new stealing technique: don't draw any attention to yourself.
The line is even longer now, seeing as how most people show up at the last possible second. The length of the line isn't the only thing that's increased..my nerves are at their highest peak. I feel cold, all the way down to my bones and blood. I'm shaking like a leaf, and I can feel the large group of friends behind me staring. One of them has bright red heels that momentarily distract me.
It's okay, Paxton, relax. They probably just think you're nervous about the Reaping. No, wait, you are NOT Paxton, you're Connor now. Connor Stoll. Your new name is Connor Stoll for the next half hour..
I rehearse in my head as the line inches forward, getting used to the feel of introducing myself as Connor; the last thing I need is for her to ask me my name and accidentally blurt out my real name. You are Connor.
"Next!"
I look up to see how far along the line is only to see that the row of booths is the only thing in front of me. How did the line go that fast?!
I march up to the available booth with my head high, face neutral. It's just a prank. You're a natural at those. Prank her like you would prank anyone else.
This Capitol woman isn't as friendly as the last.
"Wrist, now."
Hello to you too, lady. I hold out my wrist and without any warning she stabs the needle into my finger so hard I actually flinch, something I haven't done since my first ever reaping three years ago. She smirks a little at the sight of my pain. Bitch.
"Name, now. I haven't got all day!" she snaps impatiently.
I blurt the name out so fast it actually takes her by surprise. I freeze in place, my very blood going cold. Which name did I say? I watch anxiously as she flips through her list, finally checking off the name. Connor Stoll. Guess all that mental rehearsing was worth it. I give a discreet sigh of relief. We're signed in. Both of us. The hardest part of today is done.
Now all that's left to do is not get reaped. Easy. I've already done it three times.
"You can go, now. Next!"
I walk away from the booth in pure relief, along with the usual sense of bliss that comes after another successful prank, and head over to the fifteen section for real this time.
My sole thought the entire time waiting for the escort to begin is that I just can't wait to rub my success in Connor's sick, fever-flushed face when I get home.
Savannah Moral POV
The kid in front of us in the check-in line is an absolute nervous wreck. I recognize him from school. Doesn't he have a twin? It seems odd not seeing them together but what do I know, right?
Joc and Cida still haven't made up, apparently, because they've been arguing the entire walk here and still haven't stopped.
"God, Cida, you're such a drama queen!"
"Well, you know, maybe if you weren't such an asshole all the time-"
"I'm not an asshole!"
"Yes, you are!"
Penha looks like she's about to lose it next to me, while Bianca and Rosario are attempting to have a conversation of their own to tune it out.
The argument is getting more heated. People are staring. I think it's time to intervene.
"Guys!"
I hear another voice, mingled in with mine, yelling the same word. Penha. She continues, though.
"Can you shut up for just two seconds, please?!"
"Seriously," I chime in, "we're at the reaping can you at least try not to make our district look bad? I love you guys, but really."
Joc nods his head solemnly while Cida simply rolls her eyes and stalks ahead of us in line, practically sticking herself to the slightly less nervous-looking twin in front of us.
I turn to Joc, who's looking a little crestfallen, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry about her, Joc. She's always like this, remember?"
He nods, lowering his gaze to the floor. I must admit, his sadness is pretty out of character. Usually he takes things like this with a grain of salt, not letting it get to him. Maybe it's just last-reaping stress. The fear of being reaped when you were so close to freedom.
I decide to just let it slide, and look up to see that the twin and Cida have both reached a booth and are being checked in. Joc and I are next in line, side-by-side. I notice two people leave their booth at the same time, one of them being the little thirteen-year-old boy I scared the shit out of this morning. Ha.
"Next!"
The two attendants shout at once and so Joc and I each take a booth. The Captiol woman looks young, maybe only a few years older than me.
"Your hand and name, please?"
Wow. Usually by this point they're all bitter and snappy. The only other time a nice person checked me in was on my third reaping when I was fourteen, an even then she was only nice cause she smiled a little.
I reach out my hand with a quiet little "Savannah Moral", and she pricks me as gently as one could possibly prick a person's finger. She then pulls out her list, checking me off swiftly.
"There you are. Moral, Savannah. Pretty name. Happy Hunger Games!"
I almost glare at that last part, but something in her face stops me. The tiniest hint of regret, of sorrow, of pity. Almost as if she only said it cause it's expected of her.
I leave her with a simple smile, hiding the fact that I've caught her silent rebellion.
Once we've all been checked in, it becomes apparent that I got the best attendant.
"She didn't even look at me!" Cida whines.
"Neither did mine." Rosario.
"Eh, mine was okay.." Bianca.
"The bitch stabbed me! Literally stabbed me, and she gave me so much attitude! I should have taken that needle and stabbed her, see how she likes it.." Penha, of course.
"Well, mine smiled and wished me a Happy Hunger Games, but that's pretty much it.." Joc.
They all turn to me expectedly. I usually have good stories.
"Mine was okay. Kind of ignored me, really."
I'm not entirely sure what made me lie, but it felt right. Then again, lying is what always feels right with me.
We head over to the eighteen section then, way at the end, and just wait. Everyone in our section, and even most of those in the seventeens and sixteens, seems so bored compared to the trembling, terrified and slightly intrigued kids in the other sections. We've seen it all before. We just want to go home, already. Especially Penha.
"Holy freaking shit, can we just get on with it?! Just pick two poor bastards and let us go on our way, dammit!"
There are a few chuckles from the other eighteen-year-olds standing around us, mingled in with some sighs. One kid even goes as far as to yell out, "Get over it, seriously!" We all know how Penha is. Whether or not to like her as she is – that's based off of personal opinion, of course.
The escort's voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin.
"Attention, good people of District 5! Welcome to this year's annual Hunger Games Reaping! I'm sure you're all very excited!"
The square is completely silent. Of course. No one is excited at all, Mr. Escort. We're pretty much all either terrified, or just want to go home. Someone coughs, breaking the silence in a manner even more awkward then the silence itself.
"Well, then. Ladies first, I guess!"
The flamboyant escort makes his way to the reaping ball, taking torturously slow steps.
This is it. Last reaping. Last time. Then next year, and all the years after that you can just stand with the adults and Cida and Joc and Rosario and Penha and Bianca and just laugh at the escort and all of the other kids who still have to endure the reaping and-
"Savannah Moral!"
I almost miss the name, too busy fantasizing about all the future stress-free reapings that I haven't lived through since I was eleven.
Now I know my reapings will never be stress-free again. If I even get another one.
I look around me, taking in the sorrowed and slightly surprised faces around me. I can't show how shocked I am right now. I just can't.
I slowly step out of my section and begin walking towards the stage, head held high. I don't shake. I don't show any fear. And I most certainly do not cry. Not even a single tear.
I mount the steps steadily and take my place beside the escort, staring out at the vast crowd. I spot my friends.
Cida and Bianca are both crying; Cida's sobs in particular are echoing throughout the square. Penha has a hand on each of their shoulders, her gaze cold and fuming with hidden rage. Joc and Rosario simply look devastated. At a loss for words. Heartbroken.
And then I spot the Headmaster of the community home staring right into my eyes with the widest, most triumphant smile I've ever seen anyone wear.
I look back at my five best friends, all grief-stricken and sorrowful, the image of the Headmaster's beastly smile burned into my brain.
It is those two images combined that cause something inside me to snap.
I need to come back. I need to get back to my friends, and most of all…
I need to make the Headmaster's life an absolute living hell when I get back.
Paxton Connor Stoll POV
I watch as an eighteen year old girl with blue eyes and freckled skin gets called up to the stage. I must admit her composure impresses me. She doesn't seem afraid at all, although deep down she must be. She stands next to the escort calmly, staring out into the crowd with an intense look on her face that almost makes me shiver. Even the escort seems slightly intimidated by her.
"Well, look at this one! She is just glowing with confidence! Remind me of your name." he says, despite the slip of paper still being in his hand.
The girl looks back at the crowd, eyes skimming down the square in a way that almost makes it seem like she's staring each one of us in the eye.
"Savannah Moral."
"Wonderful! Congratulations, Savannah!"
Yeah, congrats. You are now on your way to a fight to the death in paradise! Living the dream.
Before the girl, Savannah, can react, the escort has already made his way to the boy's ball and is practically skipping back to the microphone.
Alright, this is it. Connor's waiting at home, you did it! You just pulled the greatest prank of your entire existence and in five minutes you'll have food and money to bring home to Connor and Mom.
The escort then unfolds the slip and shouts the name loud and clear into the mic.
"Connor Stoll!"
I freeze in place, for once in my life taken by complete surprise. He said Connor. Connor Stoll. The name of my twin brother, sick in bed at home.
People are staring at me in confusion, no doubt wondering where my twin is and which one I am.
Crap! What to do, what to do… think, Paxton, think!
Before I even realize what I'm about to do, I find myself leaving the fifteen section and swiftly making my way onto the stage in place of my brother. Switching roles once again. Although this time, it might be permanent.
"Excellent! Two very promising tributes indeed! And your name is?"
I cast my gaze downwards, reading the words scrawled in black ink on the slip in the escort's hand. Connor Stoll – 15.
"P-Connor. Connor Stoll."
"Lovely! Lovely, indeed! Now shake hands, you two! Everybody give 'em a round of applause."
I turn towards Savannah, who's actually tall enough to be on eye level with me, and hold out my hand. She grabs it, giving it a firm shake before releasing, her gaze intense although not cruel. Pensive.
Before we can say anything to each other, the peacekeepers are whisking us away into our separate rooms.
I sit on the luxurious couch with my head in my hands. This is all just too much. Connor will have to work alone, now. My mother is surely devastated.
And me? Well, who knows what will become of me?
I jump at the sound of the door opening, revealing my mother. My mother, with her tear-streaked face and frail composure. She looks absolutely broken.
"Mom, don't worry about it. Connor will take care of everything while I'm gone. You'll both be okay."
She gives me a harsh gaze.
"You know that's not at all what I'm worried about, Paxton."
I stare at her, my mind completely blank on what to say to her. Of course I know the real reason she's worried. I just can't bring myself to acknowledge it.
My mother, however, seems set on doing just that.
"I know Connor and I will be fine, Paxton, but what about you? Will you be fine? Will you come home, completely unscathed, not just physically, but mentally as well?"
Her eyes fill impossibly with more tears, which she tries to blink away but fails, only making them fall instead.
"Paxton, please. Please, whatever happens, just try –" she chokes for a second, "just try to come back to us. "
It's her voice; her wavering, broken voice that almost makes me lose it. Almost. But unlike my mother, I manage to hold the tears back.
"I promise, Mom." I reply, my voice no louder than a hoarse, choked whisper.
And just like that we're in each other's arms, my mother a blubbering, sobbing mess while I comfort her. By now my tears are long gone. Crying won't help anyone here.
Eventually my mother is forced to leave, and I'm left alone with my own thoughts. Does Connor know that the unthinkable happened? The very thing he was so worried about this morning?
I reach down to remove my necklace, a roughly-woven thing made of rope that belonged to my father. Connor and I have taken turns wearing it ever since the day Dad died, after we'd managed to sneak it away from his body using the very tricks he gave us. Today was supposed to be Connor's day. He gave to me. Thinking it would being me luck.
Clearly, he was the one who needed the luck all along. After all, it was his name that was pulled out of the reaping ball, not mine.
I can do this, I think to myself, I'm sly, I'm quick and I know how to sneak up on people. Doesn't hurt to be good-looking either. I can do it, it's all just one big, blown-out-of-proportion pickpocketing trip.
I promised my mother that I'd try to come home, but that wasn't enough. With this thought in mind, I silently promise the same thing to both Connor and myself. But there's one more person left.
I also promise my father.
I'll put everything you taught me to good use, Dad. I swear.
Savannah Moral POV
I sit in the tribute room with a thousand questions running through my mind. How are these Games going to work? Who will I ally with? Will I even live long enough to have allies?
Nonsense. Of course I will. I need to win this.
I don't get very far with my thoughts before my friends walk in, Bianca and Cida two blubbering messes of tears. I can't help but let out a small sigh at the sight of them. Penha's face looks cold and stony, like a volcano just seconds from erupting. She is the first to approach me, placing her hands firmly on my shoulders.
"Listen to me, Sav. You can win this. I know you can. You're a tough bitch, and I know you won't be afraid to mess some tributes up real bad. I know you. I know you'd rather hear the truth then a lie and if I didn't think you could win, you know damn right I would tell you. Just don't give up the fight, alright?"
I just stare at her, unable to believe the sheer depth of the words that just escaped Penha's mouth. Her eyes become misty for a split second before she blinks sharply and turns away in an attempt to hide her emotion.
Before I can even utter a syllable of comfort, Cida has thrown herself onto me, wrapping her arms around my neck in her usual dramatic way. She says things I can't make out amongst her loud, harsh sobs. I can feel her body shaking and shuddering with emotion and I find myself unable to speak around the huge lump that has accumulated in my throat. I pat her on the back awkwardly as she continues to drench my top with her tears and soon I find myself shedding several tears of my own.
Eventually, Joc manages to pry Cida off of me, and she automatically buries her face into his shoulder. Looks like they're done arguing for the day.
Bianca simply pulls me into a tight hug, clearly not trusting herself to speak. She's only just stopped crying herself. She gives me a little extra squeeze before releasing me with a sad smile and a whispered "good luck"
Rosario then steps forward. Oh no. I already know what this will be about.
'Listen. The bloodbath. Run from it. Grab whatever is in your path. It's not worth it. Find an alliance and lead them through the Games. I know you've got amazing leadership skills, better than mine even. Just…don't make any rash decisions alright. And keep using your alliance skills."
"I will. I'll do everything you just told me. Thanks, Ross."
With that, we hug. Joc also hugs me with his own, silly Joc-type words of encouragement. Before I know it, we're all in a massive group hug and we don't let go until the sound of peacekeeper footsteps breaks us apart.
The last things I notice as my friends leave the room are Cida's and Joc's hands, intertwined in such a way that suggests the beginning of something bigger than friendship. I can't help but crack a smile. I can't wait to tease them about this if I get home.
No. Not if. When. I will come home. And when I do, it won't be in a wooden casket.
I will not give the Headmaster that satisfaction.
A/N Well, that's all, friends! Hope you all liked it and remember, reviews are love! J