Chapter 6: Pick Your Poison

I breathe in deeply and slowly exhale as I visualize the thunk of my shot hitting the target. I open my eyes as I raise my arms with perfect control. The bow feels lighter than I imagined, and I carefully pull back the string as I take aim. My eyes are trained on the red and black rings, and I block out all other sound as I prepare myself for the shot. Taking one more deep breath, I fire.

I jerk sharply and drop the bow with a hiss. My upper arm burns from a small red nick just above my arm protector, and a tiny drop of blood threatens to bead out of it. I glare down at the offending weapon. The overextended sting of the bow lies limply on the ground. My glare deepens when I spot the arrow, lying no more than three feet ahead of me, nowhere near the target.

Someone snickers behind me, and I whirl around to find the a small boy from Ten. He's got a stupid smirk on his rat-like face. I scowl at him. He doesn't even look old enough to be here. I huff, shove the bow back onto the weapons rack, and storm away to another station.

I pause on my way to the trident station, taking a quick look over at the gauntlets when I hear the sound of clapping. When we arrived this morning, Atala had informed us that she would be calling us up in groups to test us on the obstacle course. It's a formidable task, one Haymitch suggested we avoid if possible because of how frequently the Careers use it. It's an extremely physical task, and one that can easily make you look weak if you're not careful.

The gauntlet section of the course consists of different level platforms that rise to a landing on both sides. We're expected to leap around from level to level while avoiding the padded clubs that the trainers use to knock us off balance. From there, we're supposed to move on to the ropes course, which mainly consists of a series of nets stretched across a portion of the ceiling. The game makers will take our times into consideration for our final training scores, so it's important to perform well.

My pulse quickens slightly as I watch the first group test out the course. They're all tributes from One and Two, and everyone in the room is paying close attention to them. I can still hear the sound of weapons and the hushed voices of the other tributes, but every time one of the Careers steps up to the starting line, the room gets eerily quiet.

They make the course look like a joke as they jump from block to block, expertly avoiding the attendants' batons, and taking no more than a few hits. They all get through the ropes section just as easily thanks to their strength. All of them are decently fast, which comes as a surprise, considering all of the boys are large. A bitter taste fills my mouth at the thought. Large and fast. Not a cheering combination for us other tributes.

I turn away and walk to the trident station. There's only one other kid here; one of the twelve year olds from Eight that I recognize from the Reaping. None of his attempts are very successful, so I'm confident that he won't laugh at me like the boy from Ten. I can't be much worse with this as I am with the bow.

The trainer comes over to me, giving me a few pointers on form before leaving me to it. I select one of the shorter tridents, inspecting it as I remove it from the rack. The metal is smooth and cool to the touch, but it feels heavy and unbalanced in my hand as I lift it and test out my stance.

I eye the dummy ahead of me. It's only about fifteen feet away, but after my last venture with a new weapon, I try not to underestimate the distance. I let out a long sigh. Please be better than the bow. I release the trident, throwing it with as much force as I can muster.

Clank.

I groan in frustration as I walk towards the dummy that now has my trident sticking up out of its foot. The prongs are embedded deeply into the soft rubber, going all the way through the false flesh, which is something, I guess. I shake my head. Not when you were aiming for the stomach.

I yank the weapon from its position, and trudge back towards the throwing mark. A pit of worry forms deep in my stomach as I spot two people standing in the place I had just occupied. The volume in the room has picked up again, but all I can hear is a blur of sound as I make eye contact with Mace and Nerissa.

There are forty-seven other tributes in here. How do these people keep finding me, and why can't they just leave me alone?

"Well, wasn't that just pathetic?" Nerissa says.

Her face is pulled into a condescending smirk, and I can tell she's imagining all the different ways she'd like to kill me, all very creative, and most likely extremely painful. Considering she's from District Four, she probably knows just how terrible that shot really was, and how easy of a target I'd be.

Mace chuckles at the girl's comment and smirks at me, and I glower at the two of them. I'm tired of being pushed around. Sorry, Haymitch.

"At least you actually managed to hit the dummy this time,"Mace says. "That attempt with the bow was just sad. Not exactly the next Girl on Fire, are you?"

His tone is teasing, but there's a dangerous glint in his eyes that tells me I need to stay away from him. I don't know how he even saw me; his group was supposed to be over at the obstacle course. But the knowledge that he should be somewhere else makes me feel even more uneasy about his presence.

"I could help you, if you want," he drawls out, taking a step towards me.

The leer is back as he invades my personal space, bending his head towards mine so that I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. Its disgusting, and my whole body goes rigid as I fight the urge to stab him with the trident. I'd definitely be able to hit the stomach from this distance.

"I don't need your help."

He laughs. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure you just hit the dummy's foot. Not exactly an expert shot."

"Maybe that's what I was aiming for. I'd like to see you try to run away with a trident sticking out of your foot," I say harshly.

Nerissa narrows her eyes behind Mace, but he just smirks wider. "Oh, feisty. I prefer the spirited type. It's always more fun when they're a challenge."

I swallow heavily as he breathes across my face once more. I forgo the smile completely, taking a step back and shooting him a dirty look.

"Mace. Nerissa," a familiar, authoritative voice barks from somewhere to my left.

I turn my head to see Cato and the other Careers glaring in our direction, clearly not pleased with the unfolding scene. I've never been more thankful to hear Cato's voice, but the feeling quickly vanishes when I realize that our conversation has drawn a few eyes. I can see the boy from Eight watching us intently out of the corner of my eye. I suddenly feel very small, shifting from foot to foot, but I try to hold my ground. The two teens give me one last look before sauntering off to join the rest of their group.

I release the breath I was holding as I watch them walk away. Cato sends me one more glare, his eyes reiterating what he told me on the roof last night, before he turns it on the other tributes in the Training Center. Everyone seems to recoil under his dark look, immediately jumping back to whatever they had been doing. It's amazing how terrified everyone is of him.

Feeling slightly flustered, I decide to go the knot tying station. I don't trust myself to handle any weapons right now. I mentally scold myself for my weakness. I have to get used to being uncomfortable. If something happens in the arena, I'm not going to be able to stop and calm myself down. I sigh, hunkering down at the station and waiting for my district to be called to the obstacle course.

After half an hour, Atala calls my name, summoning me over to join the rest of the tributes from my district as well as those of District Eleven. We're all silent as we listen to her go over the rules of the course, and I can already feel my heart pounding heavily in my chest. This is my first real test here. My exploration of the weapons hasn't yielded positive results, and I doubt I'm going to impress them with my ability to light a fire or identify a poisonous bug. Making an impression in the tribute parade is one thing, but it won't mean much if I completely botch my training score.

District Eleven goes first, and I cringe as I watch them struggle through the gauntlet section of the course. They all move incredibly slow, even though they make the leaps with relative ease. It reminds me of the little girl from Eleven last year.

They're probably used to it from back home where they work in the trees.

I attribute their slow speed to the fact that they're constantly getting hit by the batons, and they have to regain their balance before setting off again. They all do well with the ropes leg though, swinging easily from section to section without falling.

Collis is the first from my district to go. He does better than I expect in both sections, but he takes a lot of hits and his time isn't fast. Thalia moves more quickly than Collis had, but I frown at the repeated thwack I hear. I don't think she avoided a single baton, but at least she didn't fall off of anything. And she's not crying, which is an improvement. Karn is next, and I roll my eyes as he smirks and struts his way to the starting line.

By the time he finishes, the smirk has been wiped from his face and placed on mine. He only took four hits, but his time was slow, placing him near the lower half of the tributes.

The smirk quickly vanishes from my own face when I realize that it's my turn. I slowly make my way to the starting line. The sound in the room is drowned out as I focus on the course before me, waiting for my cue to start.

"GO!"

I take off at a sprint, lunging and jumping up when I reach the first platform. The different levels are farther apart than they looked from the ground, but I still make the first jump easily as I throw my momentum into it. The next few are more difficult, and it takes almost all my effort as I bend my knees and push off the ground, leaping to the next block. I'm about the make my next move when I suddenly feel something slam into my side, nearly causing me to lose my balance. I distantly hear the sound of laughter, and I wince at the pain of my first hit. Fortunately, it doesn't slow me down much.

My leg muscles are working in overdrive as I throw myself from platform to platform. Another baton comes flying at me, but this time I'm able to sidestep it before it can make contact. My breathing sounds heavy to my ears as I finally hit the landing, ducking and rolling as I narrowly avoid two more batons. Once I'm back on my feet, I take off into another sprint, trying to avoid the clubs as best as I can. I'm close to the descending platforms when I take another hit. Hissing at the sharp jolt of pain, I bound my way down the final section of levels.

My legs are starting to burn when I'm back on the ground, but I don't slow down as I make my way to the netting. Grabbing onto the thick black rope, I stick my feet through the loops and begin my assent. The netting jerks sharply under me, and I tighten my grip, feeling a small twinge in my hand. I'm forced to slow my pace a little after that, not wanting to risk flipping the net. My arms strain as I heave myself over the top, crouching down into a bear crawl as I scurry across the flat section of the ropes. I momentarily lose my balance again as I reach the end of the top level, my foot caught in one of the loops. Gripping the rope tightly with my hands, I jerk roughly, freeing my foot and nearly toppling over the final section. I hold on as tightly as I can while my feet scramble for purchase. They find it after a few short seconds, and I move down the rope as quickly as possible.

I hear Atala yell, "Done" when my feet hit the ground, and I let out a sigh of relief. My arms and legs feel like jelly as the adrenaline begins to wear off, and I wince when I feel throbbing in my side and a twinge of pain in my hand. I'm definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. I look down at my palm where the skin has peeled away, the old burn irritated by the coarse material of the ropes. The pain is nothing serious though, and I'm thankful to have made it out with only minor issues.

"Well done, tribute Briar," Atala tells me as I make my way back to her.

My heart is still beating quickly, but I manage to give her a small thank you in between breaths before turning to the board with our times. My eyes widen. My name lies just below Topaz's and just above Valora's, one of the girls from District Two⎯the one who not ten seconds ago had been second on the list.

I got the second highest score.

I got the second highest score. If I had been hit one less time, I would have been first.

I'm hit by a confusion of feelings as the information sinks in. Pride, for being better than the Careers at something, for proving to them that I'm not as weak as they seem to think. Disbelief, for the very same reason. And terror. I've just painted an even bigger target on my back. The only consolation is that this will help my training score. If I have enough sponsors in the arena, I still might be able to survive.

The other tributes around me seem to be feeling as much disbelief as I am because they keep looking between the board and me. More than one of them are glaring at me, and it makes me feel both uncomfortable and irritated. Karn's look is by far the worst, and I'm about to tell him to cut it out when his gaze shifts to something behind me. I look over my shoulder. I immediately regret it.

All the Careers are staring me down from their spots around the area, and I internally grumble about how common an occurrence this is becoming. I assumed they had been watching my run on the course, and they were very likely the ones that laughed when I received my first hit and almost fell. Unlike the other tributes, they seem to fully comprehend what just happened, and judging by their faces, they aren't happy about it at all. My pulse beats heavily in my ears as I force myself to turn away from them.

Thankfully, the lunch bell rings at that moment, saving me from another possible confrontation. I practically run out the door.

The smell of savory food hits my nose as soon as I enter the room, and I hear my stomach growl in anticipation. Thanks to the speed with which I fled to the cafeteria, I'm the first in line, and I eagerly stack food onto my plate. I hear footsteps sound behind me as the other tributes make their way into the lunchroom.

"Hey! Briar!"

I stop where I am in line, turning to face the lanky teen trying to get my attention. Barden is wearing the same goofy smile I've begun to associate with him as he makes his way towards me with a girl I haven't met but recognize from the Reaping. I've seen her around the Training Center, but we've never crossed paths. She looks older than I do, but she's shorter by a couple of inches. Her brown hair is pulled into a high ponytail, clearly displaying the white Six on the shoulder of her shirt.

"Hey, Barden. What's up?"

"I was trying to get your attention, but you ran out of the Center pretty fast," he says as he glances to the girl next to him. I raise my eyebrow at him as he flicks his gaze between the girl and me. A light seems to switch on in his brain because he jerks his head back to me and points to the small girl. "Oh, by the way, this is Zeppina. She's from Six."

Zeppina gives me a tight-lipped smile and a small wave. "Hi."

"Hey."

An awkward silence falls over us, and the two behind me begin to fill their plates with food as well. The only thing that fills the quiet for the next few seconds is the sound of metal clanking against metal and the hushed whispers of people talking as they scoop their lunch out of the containers.

Barden finishes loading his plate and turns to me. "Why don't you come sit with us?"

I'm not exactly eager to converse with my fellow tributes, but being alone means I'm probably more susceptible to being engaged by the Careers. So I nod my head at him, and the three of us weave our way through the tables, stopping once we reach one in the far left corner of the room. As I take my seat, I notice that some others have come to join us, but I don't recognize any of them. Barden seems to notice my confusion because he jumps to introduce them.

"Briar, this is Mazzie from Nine, Nox from Ten, and Fuse from Three."

Of course he knows who everyone is. The kid is too friendly for his own good. I don't understand it. How can he be so happy knowing that in less than two days, he's going to be put in an arena to battle for his life? It doesn't make any sense, and I hope he doesn't regret it when the real Games start.

I give them a curt nod in acknowledgment, and we begin what I can only describe as possibly the most awkward conversation I've ever had. No one really knows what to say. We can't really talk about our districts because it's clear that it would be too painful for all of us, but we also can't talk about the Games, because it's just depressing. So Barden ends up controlling most of the conversation, which is fine by me.

He is in the middle of telling a very animated story about his escort when Zeppina suddenly cuts him off, a look of confusion marring her features. "The Careers keep looking over here."

My back is to the rest of the room, so I can't confirm what she's saying, but by the look on both Nox and Mazzie's faces, I can tell that she's not lying. Yesterday, all twelve Careers had sat at a table in the center of the room, showing everyone that they had already formed their alliance for the first arena. I assume they're doing the same today, but I don't bother turning around to check. If they really are looking over here, I know I'll just be met with more of the same glares.

Barden shrugs like it's no big deal. "They're probably just angry that Briar got a faster time than most of them on the obstacle course. How did you do that, anyway?"

"I don't know," I say with a shake of my head and a frown.

"Well, yeah, but like, how did you get so good? I mean… you're pretty tiny. No offense."

"Oh, um, I used to run a lot when I was little. My mom was a seamstress, and I used to deliver her orders. And I work" ⎯ Worked? ⎯"with a butcher back in Twelve. And I ran at school." I almost want to tell them that it was a fluke, but I decide that it's better to make myself seem like somewhat of a threat.

I make it sound simple when I explain it to the others, but a part of me doesn't really understand it myself. Everything I said to them about my mother and working with Mr. Fairbain is true, but I'm still surprised by how well I did. Running orders across town is a lot different than the gauntlets. I've always been fast. I used to run a lot of the races at school, and I usually won, but I didn't think that would translate well in the Games. Though, the throbbing on my side reminds me that I could have done better. If those were real weapons, I'd have two gaping wounds in my side. The thought makes me feel sick.

"Or the staring could have to do with your sister? It was on the recap, and Caesar talks about it all the time."

I drop my fork with a loud clang as the metal hits my plate, and I snap my head up to look at the boy across from me. Fuse looks at me unapologetically, as if he knew exactly what bringing up Amelia would do. The table is silent as they wait for my answer, but it never comes. I shove my food away from me and stand up, walking quickly out of the room. I hear Barden call my name, but I don't acknowledge it. I'm thankful that he doesn't follow me as I walk back to the Training Center.

I know I'm overreacting, but I can't stand everyone talking about her all the time. A fissure forms in my chest as I look down at the leather bracelet on my wrist. Being in the Games is stressful enough as it is, but the ache just gets worse every time someone mentions her. I know the kid did it on purpose too. Probably trying to throw me off my game. Ha. Like I actually have any.

I want to scream. This is supposed to be in the past; it happened six years ago. I'm not the first person to lose a sibling to the Games, and I doubt I'm the first person to enter the Games after losing one. But because Cato's brother turned out to be the victor, because Cato is here too, nobody can shut up about it.

I let out a disgruntled sigh as I enter the Training Center. All the other tributes are still at lunch and it's completely silent in the large room. I'm grateful for the quiet and the space. I need some time to blow off steam. Since the room is empty, I figure this is as good a time as any to try my hand at the knife station.

The rack is full of different style knives: daggers, knives with curves, knives that you throw from the blade, knives that you throw from the handle, and so on, but all of them are different than what I'm used to.

I pick up the first one on the rack, figuring I might as well try all of them. It's called a kukri knife, and its blade is a strange curve that forms a crescent with the handle. I walk over to the throwing mark, testing the weight of the knife as I go. It feels lopsided in my hand. It doesn't make much of a difference though. While I'm used to handling knives, I have no experience throwing them. They'll probably all feel unbalanced, especially since I have to chuck them across the room rather than use them to cut through the meat of a dead animal.

Looking down at the knife one more time, I adjust my grip on the handle. Focusing on the motion of my arm and then my target, I place my left foot in front of my right and throw. The knife sails through the air, embedding itself in the knee of the dummy. It's an improvement on the bow and the trident, but not by much. I'm used to lighter knives, the heaviness of the kukri making my grip awkward and my release stunted, so I leave the knife in dummy, and pull different ones from the rack to test those instead.

By the time I'm done, there are about fifteen knives sticking out of the dummy in different places. I used nearly every knife from the rack, each with varying degrees of success as I threw them at the dummy, picturing the faces of the Careers. As I had predicted, I'm much better with the lighter knives, which is why after the first ten throws, I stuck with one called a bowie knife. Its clipped point is reminiscent of a butcher's knife, as is the weight, and I could throw it with more ease than the others. I'm not an expert shot by any means, but I at least managed to hit between the thighs and the shoulders on every throw, even if it rarely goes where I intended. If it's not enough to kill, it will at least slow my target down.

Satisfied with my progress and feeling calmer, I move away from the station as the other tributes begin to filter back into the room, having just finished with lunch. I decide to follow Haymitch's instructions, making sure that none of the other tributes know what I'm good at. I cringe when I think of my mentor; he's not going to like the Careers' ever-increasing "interest" in me. The least I can do is follow the rest of his advice. I look back at the dummy I had just worked on and snicker. It looks like I decided to use it as a pincushion. Everyone will think I've gone crazy or something.

The afternoon session is spent much like the morning⎯with me trying out various weapons and completely failing. Barden and Zeppina join me shortly after they return, and we head over to a station that's filled with the most random selection of weapons I have ever seen. Turns out that Barden is quite skilled with a sickle. It also turns out that I am not. Zeppina is surprisingly adept at a lot of things, picking the weapons up at an unusual pace. It's a skill I definitely don't have, and it surprises me considering she's from Six, and they supposedly have no experience working with weapons. I attempt to work the throwing ax, but it's a definite no-go, considering my only successful attempt ended in me hitting the hand of the dummy. The ones I don't have to throw go over a little better. If it came down to it, I think I could make it work. My ability with the spears is pretty much the same as with the trident, except I at least managed to hit the bicep with that one. I don't even bother going near the swords. The mere thought of running into Cato makes my stomach turn.

By end of the session, I'm completely exhausted both mentally and physically, and I can't wait to get away from the other tributes.

The dessert is creamy and delicious. It's the richest thing I've eaten over my time in the Capitol, the chocolate thick and divine on my tongue, and I try to savor the taste. Unfortunately, the thickness of the pastry is not conducive for being taken by surprise, and I nearly choke when Effie asks her next question.

"So how was everyone's day in the Training Center today?"

My district partners all turn their heads to me, and I shrink back in my seat, dreading the upcoming conversation. Since returning from the Training Center, I've managed to avoid discussing the new development in my never-ending saga with the Careers. I've kept my mouth shut for most of dinner, letting Haymitch and Effie take control of the conversation and only speaking when directly addressed. Despite knowing it's a futile effort, I try to put off the story as long as possible.

"I tried out different weapons, like Haymitch suggested," I say.

"Oh, did you try the bow and arrow?" Effie asks, smiling over at Katniss.

I snort. "Yeah… Let's just say that I was better at hitting myself than the target." Peeta and Katniss both raise their eyebrows in my direction, but I just shrug at them.

I give them a brief explanation of all my other attempts at weapons use, but I don't mention the knives or the ax, remembering what Haymitch said about not revealing all of my strengths. I wouldn't go as far as to call it a strength, but it's better than nothing, and could very well be my only defense in the arena. The others do the same, explaining the different sections they worked at today. Turns out that Thalia is pretty good with a slingshot. It's not the most deadly of weapons, but I make a mental note to remember it just in case. Of course, our brief accounts of today's events can't be completed without mentioning the gauntlets.

"We got tested on an obstacle course," Collis says to our mentors. "They timed us. Said it would go to our overall training score."

Peeta raises his eyebrows as he looks over to his fiancée. "Well that's new. Katniss and I didn't have to do that last year."

Effie smiles delightedly. "Oh, they have made some wonderful changes this year. So how did everyone do?"

I avert my eyes quickly, but Haymitch seems to notice my desire to remain inconspicuous.

"What happened?" He sends me a hard look, and my face contorts into a grimace at his already reprimanding tone.

Thalia pipes up from beside me. "Briar did really well. She got the second best time out of everyone."

The three mentors and our escort stare at me for minute before I'm met with a variety of reactions. Peeta smiles, seeming happy with my result, while Katniss lets out a small sigh, and a frustrated look comes over Haymitch's face.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Effie says at the same time my mentor practically growls out, "What were you thinking?"

Yup, he's definitely mad.

I scrub a hand over my face and sigh, but Effie doesn't seem to understand why not everyone at the table is congratulating me on my effort.

"And what, Haymitch, is wrong with her performing well? She should be ecstatic. She is one of the best."

Effie sends me a smile from her seat across the table, but the best I can give in return is a pained grimace, because I know exactly what is wrong with what I did. Still though, I can't help but feel a little frustrated over Haymitch's negative reaction, even if I saw it coming. He's so hot and cold on the matter. First he's telling me that I want their spotlight, and now he's mad at me for not being more invisible.

"I thought I told you not to draw attention to yourself. Are you trying to make them go after you?"

I narrow my eyes. "Of course I'm not. I was just trying to make sure that I get a good training score. It's not my fault their egos get bruised so easily."

"What did they do after?" Peeta asks quickly, trying to defuse the situation. I want to slam my head on the table, because his question is only going to make things worse.

"They watched her the rest of the afternoon. Two of them approached her before she even ran the course," Karn says, seeming to decide that he wants to be a part of the conversation.

I frown as he relays the information to the table. His voice sounds almost jealous, like I should be happy with their interest. I shake my head. He can have the attention if he wants it so bad.

Haymitch stares at me expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"Mace and Nerissa came over to me at the trident station. They were…" I shake my head exasperatedly. "I don't know. They were being Careers. They were just trying to intimidate me. And it's not like I expected to do that well on the course. I was honestly just trying not to fall off the thing."

Katniss shakes her head. "Now they'll look at you like an even bigger threat than before."

"She's right, kid. Before you were a problem because you could draw sponsors. Now they think you might actually be a problem in the arena."

"Why? Because I can run away faster than they expected? They won't be able to kill me as easily while I run for my life?" My voice sounds a touch hysterical to my ears, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I inwardly cringe at how worked up I'm getting. "They all saw how terrible I was with the weapons. I'm not a real threat to them."

I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth, because I've just revealed to more of my competition that I'm an easy target. Karn stares at me with a calculating look, and I try my best not to flinch.

"There isn't anything we can do about it now, kid." Haymitch's voice sounds softer than before, like he feels bad for his harshness. I'm relieved that he doesn't seem as angry. I still don't want to disappoint him, even if he is frustrating.

"Since you can't seem to find a way not to make a spectacle of yourself, we'll just have to find a way to work with it."

I slump in my seat as a tense silence fills the room, nobody quite knowing what to say to my outburst or to Haymitch's words. The air feels heavy and I want nothing more than to flee the table, but I know I can't. There isn't any room to act childishly in the Games.

Thankfully, dinner ends soon after that. I'm about to make a break for my room when Haymitch calls me over, Effie standing at his side.

"How bad was it today?"

I don't know if he's asking about the Careers or the weapons, but I don't want to talk about the former, so I decide to go with the second option.

"I was pretty terrible at everything," I admit with a frown. "Everything felt too clunky, except for the knives. I'm decent with the lighter ones… and the ax, I guess. Well, the one I don't have to throw."

What I really mean is that I can at least hit the body consistently with them, not that I actually have an real skill with the weapon, but I know that there's no point in mentioning it because there's not enough time for either of us to do anything about it.

"And the Careers?"

I sigh at him and shake my head. "It's just more of the same stuff, Haymitch. They just stand there and glare, but it's not like I'm the only person they try to intimidate. Besides, I'm not being modest when I say I'm going to need that course time to boost my training score. When I don't score well, they'll forget about me. I'm not a threat."

He grunts, only seeming to half believe my words, before he speaks. "You aren't going to get away with flying under the radar here. Your sister did, and then she made it to the top five. They expect the same, and they'll be after you to prevent it. Underestimation can be deadly. They won't make the same mistake this time around," Haymitch tells me before taking a swig from his glass.

My chest tightens painfully at the mention of Amelia. I wasn't even sure that he remembered her. He looks lost in thought for a moment, and for the first time, I wonder if this is hard for him too. If he's haunted by how close she came. It makes me feel guilty for not being more understanding earlier.

Haymitch takes another swig and then his face clears. "Well now that everyone already knows who you are, we might as well start preparing you for the interview." I send him a questioning look, and he rolls his eyes. "We're going to have to work out your angle."

I nod. That's not so bad.

"Effie here will take care of that."

My eyes widen as Effie beams beside him, over the moon about finally being included in something. I can't tell if this is punishment for making his job more difficult, or a legitimate part of the process. Effie has her good moments and I don't doubt her desire for us to do well, but her Capitol enthusiasm grates on my nerves. Haymitch seems to know exactly what kind of effect Effie has on me, because he gives me a smirk, and tells me that he's already filled her in on everything, before he vanishes from the room to do whatever it is he does. Bastard.

"We are going to make you into a star," Effie tells me with a bright smile. "Everyone is going to love you."

I don't know how Effie and Haymitch plan on doing this. I don't look brutal, I don't have the beauty of some of the other girls, I have no special skills to speak of… The only thing I have going for me is that the Capitol people already know who I am thanks to Caesar, but I don't know how that's supposed to help me.

"Well, you probably know who Caesar is, you saw him on TV. Everyone knows who Caesar is," Effie says as she pulls me down onto the couch with her. "Now, much like the Tribute Parade, the interview is of the utmost importance. It is the only time that you get to interact directly with the people of the Capitol. However, it will be more difficult this year because of the changes of the Quarter Quell. Every tribute will only get two minutes rather than the usual three. Now, I've already been talking you up to sponsors, and they are all very eager to see you. You just have to show them your best self."

The way Effie relays the information comes as a surprise to me. The excitement remains in her voice, but she is knowledgeable and sure in every word she says. She actually sounds like a professional, rather than the overbearing motherly figure she had been up to this point. I come to the realization that Effie is actually good at her job. Maybe it's not a punishment after all. It could be what I need to win this thing.

"As I'm sure you already know, you've been given quite a few spotlights already. The best course of action is to run with it. Really let the people get to know you and your story."

I clench my jaw, and my face flushes at her suggestion. She can't be serious. She wants— Her and Haymitch want me to play up the story, tell the people of the Capitol all about how hard this is for me? It's disgusting, and my chest tightens as I look at Amelia's bracelet. To go on national television and use her death as a way to promote myself is an insult to her memory. I don't let Effie finish her next sentence.

"I won't do it."

She looks at me, surprised by the anger in my voice. "But it is your best option, and Haymitch⎯"

"I don't care what Haymitch said. I'm not going to sit there, and talk about my sister like she's some prop I can use to win this."

Effie opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to respond. She eventually finds the words she's looking for, accompanying them with a look of sympathy. "Well, if you're sure, we can perhaps find a different angle for you, though I haven't discussed any with Haymitch." Effie looks thoughtful for a moment, before she smiles at me. "No matter, I'm sure we'll find something."

She may have a smile on her face, but I can tell by her voice that she's not so sure about it. Much to my displeasure, I can feel the doubt creeping up in me as well. Amelia, Demetrius, Cato⎯that's the story people know me for, and the only reason they've taken any interest in me at all. Both Effie and Haymitch have been very clear about how popular my story has made me in the Capitol. Without it, I'd have no hope in these Games. And I've promised myself that I would do what it takes to survive. But can I really justify doing this? I know what I thought on the roof last night was right: that Amelia would want me to fight. I know she'd tell me to do it, but it still doesn't sit right with me. The thought makes me feel hollow. Everything about this is wrong, but what choice do I have?

"Maybe we could try—"

Sighing, I look up at my escort. "Effie, wait." She looks a little put out, upset at having been interrupted again, but I know that what's about to come out of my mouth will cheer her up. I take a deep breath, speaking softly. "We can… We can do the first one…the pity thing."

I have to force the words out as they get stuck in my throat, but Effie doesn't seem to mind. She gives me a bright smile, patting me lightly on the arm.

"Excellent! Thank you, dear. Everyone in the Capitol will appreciate your strength. I know that it's hard for you, but just know that everyone in the Capitol will be suffering right along with you. Amanda was dear to all our hearts."

She says the last sentence with such feeling and sincerity that I can't bring myself to be offended or point out that her name was Amelia. It was a long time ago, and they go through tributes so quickly that I don't expect any of them to really remember it, anyway. Well, except for Haymitch, I guess. And Caesar, apparently.

"Now that that's sorted out, we need to prepare you for what types of questions you will face. Caesar often asks the tributes about their life in their home district, their Reaping, their views on the Capitol, and their training score. We obviously don't know your score yet as the private session is tomorrow afternoon, but I'm sure it will be nothing we have to worry about."

I can tell that she truly believes what she is saying, and Effie's faith in me takes me both off guard and sparks something inside of me. I'm sure she's had this exact conversation with so many other tributes—children that never returned home⎯so for her to believe that I can do this in spite of that, makes me think that maybe I actually can.

We spend the rest of the night with her firing different questions at me while I try to answer with as much honesty and personality as I can. Despite my discomfort with talking about Amelia, it actually goes rather smoothly. Unfortunately, that can't be said for the next part.

Following the questions, Effie had me practice walking in heels. To say I was clumsy would be an understatement, and I can't help but think they'd make a better weapon than shoe. I could probably win if I had them in the arena. Effie seems to agree that maybe the heels aren't for me, but she says that she'll help me practice in them another time.

Overall, I'm happy with how the night turned out. I finally feel prepared for something. It's a welcome reprieve from my constant anxiety regarding everything in the Games. I'm still worried about what might happen in the arena, but for the first night since I was reaped, I actually manage to get some sleep.

Author's Note:

Another one down. Hope you guys liked it. We just have one more chapter and then Briar is off to the arena.

SylviaHunterOfArtemis: Yeah, Briar and Katniss do have some similarities, largely from similar life experience. Hopefully as the story goes one you'll be able to clearly see some of the differences, especially with how they act in the arena. That scene with Cato was one the first things I ever wrote, before I even decided to make this a full story, so I was really excited to put it out there.

WhiteEeve: AHHHH don't know how I missed your review the first time around :( It was a tough decision on how to write Katniss and Peeta, but in the end, I decided to play it the way they were in the books before Katniss had Snow's assurance that they failed. Really glad you're enjoying. He's such a pleasure to write.

Thanks again for reading, guys. Please, please, please review. As I said, this is really my first attempt at writing, so any type of comment is helpful (if you like the writing style, if you don't, character development, description, blah blah blah). Really, I appreciate any feedback. Till next Friday!