The mentors are put on board the train before the tributes and Emalda always gets a moment with them before we are allowed to see them. The idea is that the escort should have the opportunity to explain some basic details to the tributes, and preferably make them feel a bit more at ease. Effie at least tried to do the latter. Emalda never even bothers.
The moment Peeta, Haymitch and I are allowed into the cart where Tommy and Sally are sitting Tommy flies to his feet.
"Uncle Peeta!" he exclaims. "Aunt Katniss."
He runs straight to Peeta's arms and Peeta holds him close for a long moment. I can see Tommy fighting not to break down and cry. Peeta looks composed but I can tell he's more rattled than he wants our nephew to know. There's a part of me that cannot bear to fault Tommy for running to his uncle's embrace while another part of me knows he needs to be tougher than this and never show this kind of weakness, even in front of his fellow district tribute. I can't even imagine how difficult it will be to separate my feelings for him as an aunt from my role as mentor. Caring about your tributes is not necessarily an advantage, as far too many victors have found out when their offspring have entered the arena.
"Help me" says Tommy in a low, slightly desperate voice when he pulls back from Peeta and turns to me.
I pull him into my arms and place a hand on the back of his neck, feeling his curly hair graze my fingers.
"You can do this" I whisper in his ear. "We have faith in you."
Reluctantly I pull back from the embrace, resisting the temptation to gently rub his cheek with my thumb the way I used to do when he was little and scraped his knees. Haymitch nods at Tommy, then walks over to the bar. Tommy looks unsure for a moment and then slowly begins to walk back to the armchair he was sitting in before. Sally is still in her chair, her feet pulled up and her arms wrapped around her knees. She's looking out the window with a face that's trying to be stoic. I all but ignore her as I take a seat opposite the two of them, Peeta sitting down to my right. If Sally doesn't want to talk to us right now I'm not going to force it. I've mentored enough frightened children to know that some don't want to open up right away. Some never do.
"So what happens now?" asks Tommy in a defeated tone.
"In two days we reach the Capitol" answers Peeta. "Once we arrive you'll be prepped for the Tributes' Parade. After that follows four days of intense training, your interviews and then…"
"And then the arena" finishes Haymitch.
Tommy looks down on his hands, his fingers nervously fiddling with a loose thread on the armrest. I haven't got the first idea what to say so I keep quiet. I should know what to say since I've been a tribute myself and I've mentored for over a decade and a half but this never gets any easier and this year is harder than ever before. Peeta, normally so good with words, sits quiet also. Haymitch downs his drink, sets the tumbler down on the counter top with a bang and then leaves. Tommy looks up as he exits.
"Do we have to stay in here?" he asks.
"No" answers Peeta. "You can go to your own compartment. Emalda will summon you when it's time for dinner."
Tommy nods and rises from his seat, giving us a quick glance. Peeta and I get up and follow him. We walk down a long corridor towards the compartment reserved for the male tribute. It's not the same one Peeta once had; this train is only six years old. When the door to Tommy's compartment closes behind us he walks straight into my arms and I let him cry against my neck. Peeta stands silently beside us, rubbing Tommy's back gently. There really is nothing to say.
We stay with Tommy until Emalda summons us for dinner. We take ten minutes to go back to our own compartments and change into something other than we wore during the Reaping. When we are alone Peeta wraps his arms around me from behind and buries his face at the nape of my neck.
"If he dies…"
"He's not dead yet" I say sharply.
"I know, but if he dies…"
"We can't think like that." I turn around in his embrace, wrapping my arms around him, and we hold each other close for a long moment. "All we can do is to do our jobs as mentors and do it better than we ever have before. That, and trust that Tommy can pull this off. He is a Mellark, after all."
"Yeah but I won thanks to you" retorts Peeta. "On my own I would have died before the final eight."
"You don't know that."
"Everybody knows that. Including Tommy."
He pulls back, kisses my brow and walks over to the closet to get changed. I hurriedly remove my own clothes, letting them lie on the floor for a servant to pick up later, and change into something less gaudy and more comfortable. Hand in hand we then leave our compartment.
When we walk inside the dining cart Haymitch is slouched in his chair, twirling expensive liquor in a crystal tumbler, ignoring the food set out in front of him. Emalda is eating as if she's at a fine restaurant, paying no heed to the children at the table. I watch her pick up the expensive linen napkin and dab her mouth. Her bright yellow lipstick leaves no mark on the white fabric.
Sally pays no attention to us either, eating her dinner in silence. Tommy looks up when we walk in and I almost have to look away. I wish I didn't have to see the sadness and fear in his eyes and even more than that I wish I didn't have to see that look that means he places his hope in Peeta and me. We know we can't guarantee him a victory and I can't bear to be held responsible if he dies.
We sit down to eat and Peeta attempts some small talk. After less than a minute he's interrupted by Tommy who nods at Emalda.
"Why is she here?"
"Your escort?" I ask, confused at the question.
"Why is she here?" repeats Tommy, spearing a tomato with his fork. "She drew our names from the reaping balls, condemned us to death and got us on board the train. What further purpose does she serve?"
"I am your escort" says Emalda, deeply offended at the insinuation that she doesn't have a purpose anymore. I roll my eyes since I thought she hated her role in the Games. "I will be making sure you arrive on time for all your activities. I will prepare you for your interviews. I will-"
"Yes but right now, what is your purpose?" questions Tommy. "Aren't you supposed to help us somehow?"
"Tommy…" says Peeta. "Look, the first evening is always the worst. It's just as well you take it easy tonight and we don't get into any specifics and that she doesn't begin to prepare you just yet. Chances are you won't remember much of what we tell you today anyway."
"But it's not fair!" exclaims Tommy. "She doomed us today and she gets to sit there and enjoy her food and not even acknowledge us."
"It's not that easy, Tommy" I say.
"I'm scared, Aunt Niss!" says Tommy, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I'm frightened out of my mind and that statue over there just… just sits there and eats her dinner and could care less."
"Shut up!" yells Sally, slamming her hand down on the table which makes Emalda jump two feet in the air. It's the first time she's spoken since we boarded the train and it takes us all by surprise. "Just shut up, okay? You don't get to cry! You don't get to be scared! You don't get to say anything is unfair!"
"Calm yourself" says Haymitch. His tone is placid but there's definitely a warning undertone.
"You at least have a chance!" cries Sally, flying to her feet, her eyes locked on Tommy. "All of my chances died when they drew your name and you know it. Stop acting like you're the unfortunate one. District Twelve's three mentors are your aunt and uncle and a useless drunk!"
"That's enough" says Haymitch, sharply now.
"They're not going to help me live" continues Sally, gesturing to Peeta and me. "All I have to hope for is that the drunkard takes pity on me but I doubt he would put in any effort either. They're all probably thick as thieves anyway and he will choose you too. I'm going into the arena same as you and I don't even have someone on my side who wants me to live. I'm going to be sacrificed! Because of you." She's screaming by now, tears falling down her face. "You remember that the next time you feel sorry for yourself."
Peeta, Emalda and I all look down at our plates as she storms out of the room but Tommy leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly seeming determined. While us mentors and the escort all seem to feel varying degrees of shame, knowing that she had a point, Tommy doesn't appear to be moved in the slightest.
"To hell with her" he says.
"Tommy" says Peeta in a mildly chastising tone.
"To hell with her. She doesn't get to make me feel guilty. If it were her aunt and uncle mentoring she'd take full advantage of it." He grabs his knife and fork and starts to eat again. "I am not going to apologize to her just because my aunt and uncle are our mentors. Aunt Katniss, would you pass me the salt?"
"This is going to be an interesting year" mutters Haymitch under his breath.
"That's one way of putting it" mutters Peeta in response. He picks up his fork and half-heartedly begins to pick at his casserole.
I stare at my own food, for once not feeling hungry. Someone ordered chicken, rice and a thick, creamy sauce for me but none of it looks appealing. The only one who seems to have an appetite right now is Tommy but I have to wonder how much of his behavior right now is attempted bravado.
I've come to understand over the years that Peeta and I were unusual even when we first arrived in the Capitol. Despite my lack of trust in him, the tension that occasionally filled the room and the few arguments we had we still got along fairly well. Maybe it was because we already knew each other from school, or maybe because he had a crush on me and I hadn't been entirely indifferent to him either. Whatever it was, it was different that year from what the norm is between two tributes from the same district. For the most part we got along and there were even some almost nice moments around the dinner table. Most years the tributes barely speak to one another and the tension is palpable when they're in the same room together. There tends to be arguing, hostility and a palpable sense that they are competitors, enemies. Sometimes the tributes do get along. Usually if one is seventeen or eighteen and the other twelve or thirteen. The older tends to be protective of the younger. I chalk it up to both of them knowing that the younger doesn't stand a chance. There was also one memorable pair, the tributes for the 77th Games. Effie caught them having sex which caused a huge turmoil that Haymitch enjoyed immensely and almost sent Effie to a "recuperation facility" – the reclusive luxury hotels where Capitol citizens go when they feel the need to calm their nerves. The tributes in question thought they could repeat Peeta's and my success by being the new star-crossed lovers, failing to understand that such a thing only works once and that Peeta and I never took the gambit as far as the bedroom. In the end, neither of those tributes made it past the first four days.
This year there will be no such incidents. Sally and Tommy aren't likely to spare three words to one another based on the experience so far. I can't say that I blame them. I tried my best to not form any form of bond with Peeta during our training and even though I failed I still secretly encourage my own tributes to have that mindset. Peeta's and my double-victory is a one in a million win and will never be repeated. Forming an alliance with your fellow tribute can help you during the first part of the Games but it's going to end up hurting you when you have to turn on one another. That's just the way it is. Tommy and Sally are better off not caring about each other during training.
Emalda finishes her dinner and quietly leaves the room. No doubt to go cry her eyes out at being labelled pointless. Once she is gone and it's just the four of us left Haymitch studies Tommy intently, still swirling the liquor around in its tumbler.
"I've known you since you were a kid, boy" he says. "Well, known might be a strong word. But you get what I mean."
Peeta rolls his eyes. Haymitch has been around our nieces and nephews but he hasn't spent enough time with them to form any real relationship with any of them. To him they've just been annoying rugrats that have taken up too much space and been too loud sometimes when he's come over to our house in search of food, drink or companionship.
"Did you even know which one of us was Tommy before today?" replies Tommy with newfound cheekiness.
"Who cares?" asks Haymitch with a shrug. He sets the tumbler down and leans forward, taking a bite from his food. "It will be interesting to see if you have any of your uncle's guile. If you do, you might just stand a chance. Word of advice, though. Try not to piss too many people off. I told your sullen aunt eighteen years ago and I'm telling you now – the way to win sponsors is to make people like you."
"I can do that" says Tommy but he sounds hesitant.
"Oh I'm sure you can" says Haymitch, shoveling a forkful of risotto in his mouth. "If you have any of that Mellark charm in you. If not then we need to put a lot of work into your personality."
Tommy's façade visibly falls. He sets his cutlery down and stares at his plate for a second, clearly distraught. He's always been a kind person, not quite on the same level as Peeta but nice enough that his comments about Sally moments ago really surprised me. Haymitch calling him out on that behavior seems to have really gotten to him. I want to walk over to him and hold him, to comfort him. He's had such a monumental shock today and he knows he might be dead soon; being told he's an unappealing person by one of his mentors is not something he needs right now. But Peeta's hand on my thigh steadies me and makes me stay in my seat. It's time for Tommy to come out of his shock and Peeta and I can't baby him the entire upcoming week.
"I'm done with dinner" announces Tommy. He gets up and leaves, half his plate still untouched.
"He doesn't take after either one of you in that regard" comments Haymitch, nodding at the plate. "The pair of you ate like horses no matter what state you were in." He leans back and wipes his face with his napkin. "This year will definitely be interesting."
That was another short chapter - sorry. They'll get longer, I promise =)