Author's Note: Sorry for it taking a little bit. I swear it'll probably be faster after I get passed these intros for the characters. I also apologize in advance for how bad this chapter will be. Here's to hoping I'll upload faster on the next one.
Zara Tominica slid a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear, listening to Tom, her cousin's, conversation as he poorly flirted with the girl in front of him. She knows it's kind of a grey area to listen to people's conversations, but it's just so easy to when they talk in the open with semi-loud voices. "Are you listening to Tom's conversation again?" Her aunt Veronica lays a hand on her shoulder. Zara looks to her, her chocolate eyes skeptical. "Come on. Get inside," Veronica says. Slowly Zara stands, stretching her back and her lanky legs. She'd been out there a while. Tom is an incredibly awful flirter, but the girl seemed to eat it up. With a quick peck on the cheek to Tom, the girl runs off leaving Tom standing there, eyes wide.
At the dinner table, Zara scrapes her food around her plate while her aunt pushes Tom about who the girl was. He mutters some response while Zara can't help but realize, she could answer the question. Being quiet let's you hear a lot. "Why aren't you eating?" her Uncle Darak asks. Since her parents died, probably by the capitol, she doesn't really speak unless necessary. The bullies pick on her, saying she might as well be an avox, that is until she narrows her eyes and spills some of their secrets promising more to come if the bullying continues. She's not mean, but won't let people be vindictive towards her. "Probably the reaping, right?" he asks. She looks up at him, her eyes frightened. She knows she would be defiant if she was chosen, and that would leave the little family she has left at risk. "Of course she's worried. We're all scared," Tom says before standing up, leaving his plate. "I'll go talk to him," Aunt Veronica says, standing up and following after her son.
After dinner, Zara goes in her room, tempted to do anything to keep her mind off the upcoming games, but none of it works. Her mind keeps reeling and reeling until she has to get up and go on a walk. Like the year prior and every year before that, the night before the reaping is solemn. That's when she hears it, footsteps coming directly towards her.
Ryland Cobb is just going on a walk, hating to leave his family the night of the reaping, but also needing a second to breathe. Up ahead, he sees a girl jump behind a tree. "Hi there," he says. 'Darn it. That was awkward.' He thinks. Talking to new people is not one of his stronger points. The girls peaks her head out, and he doesn't know her. "I'm Ry. Er, well… Ryan. My friends call me Ry, and well, I'm just now meeting you, so Ryan." He clears his throat and quickly debates if continuing to walk forward would be the smartest decision. Typically he's the quiet one, but this tall girl in front of him isn't filling the void of silence. He raises an eyebrow. "Zara," she mutters, her eyes scanning him. With that, she turns and keeps walking. "Weird," he mutters. With that, not wanting to run into this strange girl again, he turns the opposite direction.
When he gets back home, his two younger brothers are getting ready for bed, his parents reading to the kids. "I'm back," he says. His mother hands his father the book. "I'm going to talk to Ryan real quick," she says. With a quick kiss on both the boys' heads, she turns towards her eldest. "Hi sweetie. Ready for bed? We're all hanging out with a palate. Just in case," she says her voice suddenly grave. He nods. "Sounds good."
Zara wakes up, not ready to face today. Regardless, she stands up and gets ready choosing a yellow sundress that reaches her knees with some gladiator sandals. Slowly she steps out of her room, feeling like a fog is over her. "You look beautiful," her aunt says, hugging her. She can't muster a smile, instead going to sit outside before its time to go.
Ryan wants to keep his eyes close, but he can feel one of his brother's foot dangerously close to his mouth. When his eyes open, his parents are sitting at the table, sheer worry on their faces. "Morning," he says. It's like a light switch was flipped, the worry replaced with small smiles. "Good morning," his dad says. "You guys don't have to put a brave face on for me," he says. His mother takes a deep breath, the smile gone. "We know. We just worry."
It's as if the time flew quicker than usual and it was time for the reaping before Ryan knew it. It was going to be just like normal, and he wasn't going to get picked. He couldn't.
That's when the presidents face pops on the screen, a tight smile on her face. "For the 75th hunger games and 3rd quarter quill…" She pulls a card out of a bowl. "the tributes' lives will be connected with each other. If your district partner dies, so do you." The screen goes black, and there is an eerie silence in the air. Zara doesn't know what to feel. There are a million questions flying though her head. Does this mean you don't have to kill your partner? Does this mean more tributes? Ryan thinks the idea is stupid and doesn't make sense. It seems like a loose, loose for both the capitol and the tributes.
Their district escort goes to draw a name, the look of sheer excitement on his face. "The girl's tribute is Zara Tominica." Zara's eyes narrow, trying to hide the fear and keep down the bile rising in her throat. She walks forward, her eyes trailing back to her family for only a second. She has to stay focused, can't let them see her fear.
"And, that means… time for the boys… Ryan Cobb," the escort says. There's a moment of silence before you hear, "Oh God, me?" In the crowd. Ryan's eyes widen, closing a hand over his mouth. 'Did I really just say that?" he thinks. He walks up to the stage. There's a pang of sadness, but, yet, happiness that it wasn't one of his many friends that got reaped. His eyes look at his district partner, the one whose life his is connected to. She looks vaguely familiar, and all he can do is stare at her.
Zara can feel his eyes on her. It's that awkward kid from last night, but she doesn't let it get to her. She keeps her eyes on the crowd, knowing if she breaks focus with the camera, she'll break. There's also the fact that sponsors love a tough tribute. She needs to survive, and to do that, she needs sponsors.