After a quick and tense breakfast, Awren and I are guided down to training. "Take advantage of this training area," Effie advises. "There are always some tributes who think they're too good for the training, but sometimes the gamemakers will provide training stations specific to skills you'll need in their particular arena." Awren and I both nod somberly- for once more than willing to listen to Effie's advice.
Entering the training room I receive a terrifying stare-down from the other tributes. I can see them sizing me up, assessing my strength, estimating my speed. Am I going to be a problem? Probably not. All the same, I do my best to meet their prying eyes with a fierce look. As Awren and I join the tributes already in the room, I also do some staring for myself. In the room are the tributes from 11, 10, 7, 8, and 4. We each have our district's symbol emblazoned on our training uniforms which makes it very easy for me to tell who's who.
The only two I get confused sometimes are 11 and 9, the two agricultural districts. Still, I'm pretty sure it's 11's tributes in the room due to their dark complexions. The stick thin couple looks just as terrified as I feel. The boy is slightly taller than the girl tribute, but they share the same sweet, open eyes. They could be good allies if we all survive. There's something about their faces that makes me trust them, and as they are also from an outlying district, I suspect that none of us will be asked to ally with the Careers.
The tributes from District 4 are short, but muscular. Their faces are tough and freckled, but they are smiling and joking with each other. The girl has long, thick brown hair that she's pulled back into a tight ponytail. It dives down her back as she tosses her head with laughter. I wish I was in a laughing mood, but I couldn't approach District 4 tributes- they're careers and wouldn't take me seriously.
8's tributes are lean and willowy, especially standing next to those from Districts 7 and 10. All four are very intimidating, but I find that those from 10 are scary mostly for their bulk. They look like they have tree trunks for limbs and wear crooked sneers as they glare around at the rest of us. I wouldn't want to cross one of them. They look like they could crack my skull with their bare hands. The girl and boy from District 7 are even more terrifying. They have lean muscular legs and incredible arms. Probably got a lot of practice swinging axes.
As I'm thinking, the boy from 7 looks at me and winks. He then turns to his fellow tribute from 7 and whispers something that earns a crackup from her. Humiliated, I steer my head towards the floor and avoid eye contact with the other tributes.
"Prim, look! Here come others!" Awren whispers furiously in my ear. I jolt up out of my embarrassment to gape at the door as it opens. Tributes enter in pairs leaving me to figure out who's from where. District 6's tributes are both short, and neither one looks particularly bright. The boy has shaggy dust-colored hair, and flashes me a crooked grin when he sees me looking at him.
Following the pair from 6, a gorgeous blonde girl strides in confidently with a similarly handsome brunette boy on her arm. She smiles around at those of us already assembled in the training room, but it's a poisoned smile, like a cake baked with rotted grain. Definitely from 1, I think.
Two quivering kids practically crawl in after them, wearing the tri-grain symbol of District 9. Following them comes a set of red haired beanpoles that have to be from district 3. There is a sharp look in the girl's eyes, and I somehow know that she's three steps ahead of all of us in her own mental Games. She stays under the Career's radar while managing to exude so much confidence I begin to think of her as the toughest competition here. I hope someone kills her quick, I think, but then I realize what I just thought and feel sick again. It's already manifested itself in my head! Get out! I want to die human.
The girl from District 5 is 12, the same age as Awren. In contrast, their boy tribute has to be 17, and he walks in holding her hand. As soon as they come in, she bursts into tears-and who could blame her?- and he kneels down to comfort her. He wraps her up in a strong hug, petting her back and saying in a quiet but firm voice that, "It will be okay. You will be okay. I will protect you."
When she has regained control, he stands again and glares around at the rest of us. She shrinks behind him, but not before I can notice that they share the same angular features. Oh... I hope they aren't siblings... Every now and then they will reap a boy and girl sibling pair, or cousin pair and force them to fight against each other. "The odds certainly aren't in this family's favor," they will joke on TV. Meanwhile a mother is separated from two of her children, and that hope that one of them will return is tainted with the knowledge that both of them can't return.
I turn to Awren, but he has already moved. Awren with his sweet young eyes and shy smile has walked over to this tear-stained girl and is holding her hand. Most surprisingly of all, her brother doesn't seem to mind Awren. In fact, the edge in his eyes has softened, and he looks like he might start crying too. As for me, I am standing alone now.
I don't want to seem clingy by following Awren, but what do I do? Awren! You were supposed to stay with me! Now what am I supposed to say? Who do I befriend? I look around, and make desperate eye contact with the girl from 11. She gives me a small, hesitant smile, and I motions for me to come join her. Beaming with relief and gratitude, I nearly trip in my haste to cross the room.
"Hi," she says, blushing. "I'm Jace."
"I'm Prim," I say, but I want to say more. There are a thousand things I want to tell Jace: thank you, I'm sorry, help me. I am so lost and confused, it's like I'm a guppy that's been thrown into a shark tank. Jace has saved me for now, but I have a feeling that in the Games friendliness will not be common.
"It's okay," she says, and slips her hand into mine. I look up and meet her wide deep-brown eyes with my own. Her skin is the color of a crust of bread, or the bark of the fallen tree where my father once stashed his bow. There are creases by her eyes and mouth that betray her frequent smile, and her hair has been cornrow braided all the way to her hips. I also notice a thin pink scar that trails faintly from her mid-forehead to her ear. It's her eyes though, that stand out. They show so much trust and sadness.
"How old are you?" She whispers.
"Fifteen," I reply.
"Hey!" She exclaims. "That's the same age as Quin. I'm only a year older myself. "
At the mention of his name, Quin twists around to look at me. His eyes display blatant disgust unlike Jace's pitying ones.
"Jace," he sneers, "Don't consort with the enemy. She can't be your friend; you'll only end up dead at her feet."
I shudder and try to move away from the hateful words, but Jace only holds my hand more firmly within hers. "Don't let him scare you away," she tells me. "If I am going to die, I want to spend my last days with friends." Still, Quin's promise bounces about in my head, drilling into my heart. You'll only end up dead at her feet.
Before I can dwell on it for long, however, the head trainer walks in. "Tributes!" She calls. Her voice is powerful and commands our attention. "Today, and for the next 3 days, you will be given the opportunity to level the playing field going into the games. You can train with a bow, learn to set traps, practice building fires, and get yourself into top physical condition before the games. If you want my advice, don't ignore the survival skills. The odds are not in the favor of a tribute who can't tell which plants are safe to eat and which aren't. But then, as one in twenty four, the odds aren't particularly in any of your favor. This is your chance to stack the odds for yourself. Use it wisely." She nods once at us, and we are turned loose into the training center.
"Where should we start?" Jace asks. "I mean, if you want to train with me... Would you? I guess... I mean, we could... Um..." She trails off awkwardly, blushing furiously. I look around the room, and then turn back to my newfound friend in this hell.
"Let's start there," I say, pointing to the plant identification station. I find myself unable to keep a small smile off my face as I continue, "I think I'll have a knack for that one."
Loooong chapter guys, but I'm really pleased with it. I'm sorry if you hate the way I described all of the tributes, but it felt wrong to leave anyone out. More names and friendship/nonfriendships/possible romances(?) to come.