So, this may seem a little cliché but I promise it's worth it! The Scores are the most nerve wracking part of Training in my opinion. Was it worth it for Diana? Read on…
"So, how do you think you did?" Leo mumbles as we settle ourselves on the couch. We've been quiet all through dinner, trying to avoid the subject. As if that were possible, seeing as the results are broadcast on live T.V. I think with scorn.
"Pretty well, you?" I ask.
"Well, they didn't pay all that much attention really. I just threw spears, sparred with a trainer, and ran through the obstacle course before they told me to leave." Leo said.
"If it makes you feel any better, they didn't pay much attention to me at first either." I say, taking his hand.
"Why? What did you do?"
"Not much, just sparred with a handful of assistants with various weapons." I say vaguely. I have to struggle to stay calm and keep eye contact since the lie makes me feel awkward; dirty. Luckily, Leo must chalk up my evasive answer to nerves.
"I bet you did way better than me! I bet I only got, like, a 6."
"No way! I bet you got at least a 7!" I snort. I mostly say it to make him feel better though.
"That's easy to say for someone who at least got an 8!" Leo mutters, only half joking.
"What do you think Hayden and Nía will get?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
"Why don't you two shut up and listen instead of guessing?" Verdandi sneers before Leo can answer me.
"A real ray of sunshine, ain't he?" I mutter, and Leo snorts hard in response. Just then Verdandi flicks on the T.V. and sits down in a fluffy armchair identical to the ones Belinda and Gorath are sitting in.
The opening anthem has just started and the picture of the District 1 male, Silk-18 receives a ten. No surprise there, I saw him chopping up dummies with Daemon, plus he's buff, trained, and a Career. Jasmine only receives a nine which surprises me, considering her skill with a bow. Daemon also receives a 10; no surprise there. The District 2 girl, Penelope-18, also receives a 10. Considering her haughty pride and competitive nature, she probably hoped to do better than the male Careers.
The District 3 kids both receive 5's but the District 4 girl, Melanie-16 receives a 9 while her district partner, Hamish-17, only receives an 8. She's the smallest Career so she must be doubly good to receive a 9 like that. Size doesn't matter, you of all people should know that, Diana. Says a voice that sounds an awful lot like Jonathon. Suddenly I wing back to the night I saw Jonathon receive his 9. I remember Ian and I cheering and howling when such a large number flashed up on the screen and thinking that Jonathon had to win with a score like that; But he didn't.
I come back to the present as Greta gets a 4. "Wow, that's the lowest so far!" Leo gasps. She might be hiding something. I think ruefully, But I highly doubt it. Still I keep it as a possibility. District 6 both get 6's. I bet they aren't laughing at the Irony. I think wryly.
The District 7 boy, Pitch, gets an 8, the highest non-Career score so far, and his district partner, Dina, receives a 7, despite her age. I can't help associating Dina to that (literal) backstabber that killed Jonathon, but no matter the score, gender, or district, her cinnamon curls and deeply freckled skin looks nothing like the pale, black haired girl that killed Jonathon.
I hold my breath in fearful anticipation as I realize that Hayden is next. I clench my jaw and start rubbing the soft fabric of the couch as his face flashes on the screen; and then the number 8. An 8! I think, He got an 8! I look over at Leo and see the same joy reflected in his eyes. We turn back to the screen, just as the number 3 flashes onto the screen – under Nía's picture. I hear Leo give a little choking sound as the Gamemakers confirmed what I already suspected – Nía is useless.
The two district 9 kids, (a 5 and a 6) flash past before Leo's face appears. Leo grabs my hand and I squeeze it hard, getting my hand crushed in response. Then the number 7 is flashing under his picture and everyone in the room lets out a sigh. Well, everyone except Verdandi who probably wouldn't have cared even if Leo had gotten a 12.
"7 is very good! We can work with that!" Belinda beams, shooting him a warm smile.
Secretly I'm glad he did so well, but I'm too focused on the face that has just appeared – mine. I start nibbling on my lower lip and squeeze Leo's hand so hard that he pulls away with a yelp of pain and astonishment. I stare at the T.V. until my eyes start to water. The moment seems to stretch out forever, ending in tiny numbers. Is that a 1 or a 2? I wonder in absolute despair, but then my vision clears and I realize, it's both, right next to each other.
Twelve. A perfect score. No one sighs like they did for Leo, no one cheers like I did for Jonathon; there's just dead silence. Total shock in the room. My eye's flicker to Gorath and even he's looking at me in mild surprise and something I can't quite recognize. Awe – maybe? I don't stick around to find out. Running to my room, I slam the door and fling myself on the bed.
I'm in shock. Real, deep, physiological shock. This has to be an evil, twisted joke! I think over and over. My limbs are dead and numb, my bloodless cheeks resting against the velvet comforter (though it's not living up to its name very well). I can't blink, I can't breathe, I feel like the world is cracking into tiny fragments because there is no way – no possible way – that a petite little girl like me could fight that well. And if it's accurate? What then? What will people expect? I'm not a killer! – Am I? And what about the other tributes? I'll be targeted for sure!
"You'll be targeted for sure." Someone says and at first I think that I've spoken out loud, but then I realize the voice is far too deep to be mine. I force my stiff, unyielding muscles to prop me up so I can see him; Gorath.
"You surprised me almost as bad as that score!" I scold.
"You need to learn to pay attention." Gorath chided, shaking his head slowly.
"It's not that! Just that you voiced my exact thoughts." I explain, sitting up on the bed and crossing my legs.
"That would be 'cause it's true and neither of us is too big of a ignorant optimist to see it!" He growls in frustration, starting to pace. It strikes me that I've never seen him pace before, he's always still as a rock.
"What on earth did you do?" Gorath asks.
"Um; I may have taken on five trainers at once…while on balance beams…and, you know, sort of knocked them out." I mutter, and then defend myself by adding, "But I asked the Gamemakers for permission to hurt them first!"
"You did what?" Gorath asks, shaking his head in frustration.
"The question isn't what I did, but what do I do now." I whisper; the gravity of the enveloping me like cold embrace; tugging on my mind.
"You act surprised! Delighted! Shocked that a little thing like you could learn so much in three days! Act humble – and you might be able to still pull off being a princess."
"Yeah; because anyone's gonna believe I just happened to accidently earn a freaking 12!" I hiss, rolling my eyes.
"Well fine! What do you suggest – Little Miss Perfect?!" Gorath sneered, his voice dropping an octave.
"Mysterious. Act like I have an ace up my sleeve. I can't do outright deadly – I'm too small. But the mystery and surprise behind the score will scare the crap out of the other tributes. Fear of the unknown is the greatest fear of all. It's why tributes jump at shadows in the arena – not because it is a tribute, but because it might be a tribute." I counter.
Gorath opens his mouth to argue; to shoot down my idea; but nothing comes out. Finally he closes his mouth and thinks; "you know? That might just work." He don't discuss any particulars because we have all of the next day to do that. Gorath just nods at me with something that I finally realize is respect, before leaving. If I've earned respect from such a deadly Victor, then I'm in deeper shit than I thought!
Once again, I'm decked out in fur. This fur is dark brown and soft as goose down. I think Fahran said it was Mink, though I've never been to the only Mink farm on the outskirts of District 10. The feathers on my headdress and splayed across my chest are also unfamiliar to me, but are the same shade of dark brown as the fur dress. This dress brushes the floor in the front and drags behind me in the back.
I finger the black, snakeskin belt with a snake skull as a buckle. It is intriguing and deadly looking; the ruby implants in its eyes making it look demonic. I know that it is supposed to match the red contacts Fahran made me wear.
As the elevator reaches the ground floor, I have to remember all of Belinda's training on how to walk in a long dress and still look sophisticated just so that my leather clad feet aren't entangled in the long fur skirt. And to think I thought that lesson was a waste of time! I smirk at the thought, managing to cross the lobby to the area behind the interview stage.
"You look terrifying!" Leo say's giving me a nervous smile. I sigh and roll my eyes. He's been acting nervous around me ever since he saw my score.
"And you look sharp. So we both look great – thank the stylists." I say, eyeing his matching snakeskin suit and ruby red, silk tie.
"There you are! The girl everyone is talking about!" Hayden says, throwing his arms across my shoulders. I notice Nía sulking behind him, her eyes red and puffy, looking as if she wishes she could disappear. Both look like rainbows with all the bright colors their wearing, as if District 8 specialized in clowns, not clothing – not that Capitolites would know the difference.
"And, apparently, staring at." I add, trying to ignore the prickle of feeling all the other tributes watching me.
"Well, you did pull off a miracle!" Hayden says, but I can see the question in his eyes.
"I just sparred with some trainers. It may have been a little more elaborate in training, but I didn't expect to get such a great score. I'm still not sure why they gave it to me. I didn't even do anything to piss them off!" I snort.
"Now, now! A lady like yourself shouldn't snort!" Hayden chides.
"Did you just come over here to joke or did you actually have something important to say?" Leo mutters sourly.
"Actually, yeah. This might be our last chance to talk so I was wondering what the plan was for the arena." Hayden whispers, leaning closer. I notice Leo and Nía leaning in to hear him.
I realize they're all looking at me for a decision, as if my 12 has automatically made me leader. "Um, well I don't want to risk the bloodbath…" I start and the others nod so I continue, "But we'll need supplies."
"Bit of a dilemma, huh?" Hayden comments. I shoot him a look and the smile falls from his face.
"We need those supplies!" I insist, and again everyone nods, "We should each try to run a short way in, grab something useful, like a pack, and then beat it. As long as we escape before the Careers reach the Cornucopia, we should be alright."
"What if we get separated? Not all of us have 12's." Nía pipes up.
"The tributes will be distracted trying to run, fight, or get supplies. As long as we get out of there in one piece, we can rejoin later, away from the Cornucopia." I say. It seems to assure her slightly.
Just then, the anthem starts playing and Caesar Flickerman walks out. Hayden and Nía quickly hustle back to their spots, just before the tributes start to file out onstage. I try to walk out on stage as gracefully as possible, but just barely managed to succeed in that endeavor since Jorge stepped on my fur train. Whether on purpose or not, it checks my forward momentum harshly and I almost stumble onto the stage before regaining my posture at the last minute.
I smooth my face into a passive, yet slightly aloof expression as the crowd roars at my appearance. I act as if I can't see or hear any of them as I sit down in the plush chair set up specifically for me.
I try to focus on the interviews, but my attention keeps getting drawn away to Caesar's canary yellow hair and makeup. He's almost too radiant to look at – almost like the sun – in the sort of way that hurts your eyes. I don't mark the time passing by the interviews, but by how dangerously close that blinding hairdo becomes as Caesar goes down the line.
I hear the Careers do different variations of deadly, from glowering to merciless. What I don't hear, are the words. The rest of the interviews are so unnoticeable that nothing breaks my concentration until something just as blinding and obvious as Caesar moves out of the corner of my eye – Nía, or more specifically, her iridescent rainbow dress.
I'm sort of upset that the first interview I actually notice is hers. It's pathetic. Caesar tries to make her talk but every answer is a quiet little squeak, no more impressive than a mouse. I almost feel like fainting from relief when the buzzer excuses her; a sentiment mirrored on her features as well.
Hayden's rainbow suit is also bright and cheery – though it's nothing compared to his attitude. He and Caesar crack jokes and have the audience in stitches long after the buzzer. Memorable but in a good way. I think with approval. And since District 8's mentors are either clinically insane, have dementia, or are druggies; he must have come up with that all on his own. I don't admit that he might naturally be funny, because I don't want to like his good humor – or I'll never be able to fight him in the Arena.
"And now for the girl we've all been waiting to learn more about! The queen of unexpected aptitude! Please welcome…Diana Hex!" Caesar shouts. If he says anything after that, it's unintelligible as the crowd literally goes wild. Some Capitolites have to be restrained by security guards as they try to storm the stage; others get into catfights as they try to get a better look at me.
I walk forward as serenely as I can, showing nothing more than mild interest, an impish smirk plastered on my face. I have to wait for quite a while as security guards regain order – not with weapons like they would in the districts – but with sharp words and harsh shoving, accompanied with wild gestures.
Finally, things calm down enough for Caesar to be heard over the screaming and he says, "Well, as you can see by the enthusiasm of your fans, you've made quite the unexpected splash here in the Capitol! And it's not hard to see why! Was that fierce girl hiding in there all this time and we just didn't know it?"
"Well…I knew it. Isn't that all that matters?" I quip, as soon as the cheers settle down again.
"You're right of course, but perhaps you'd like to clue us in? We all want to know how you achieved a perfect score!" Caesar says. He gestures to the crowd, an unnecessary measure to goad them into feverish screaming.
Again I have to wait until they settle down before I can answer. "Maybe because I am perfect?" I suggest a little too sweetly. The crowd goes nuts at this – per expected. Before Caesar can respond, I continue, "Or maybe it's true that great things come in small packages!"
Even Caesar laughs at that one. You're being witty, not mysterious! I chide myself. Just then Caesar says, "Seriously though, what did you do?"
For the first time in the last five minutes, the crowd is silent, straining to hear my answer. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I say, giving him a wink and a smirk. The Capitolites eat it up like cake being spoon-fed to a baby.
I raise an arm to shush the crowd, which doesn't take too long, thankfully. Then I stage whisper, "Perhaps I can show you…" I raise my eyebrows knowingly.
The crowd screams in absolute adoration and uncontained excitement in their anticipation. But finally, even the happy cries settle down, and a charged silence fills the air. I can see the gamemakers eyeing each other as if wondering how to stop me from breaking the rules.
"…In the games!" I say, giving another wink, this time to the crowd. This time the screams are filled with whines and half-hearted protest as well as adoration. Underneath it all, I hear the loud buzzer from somewhere backstage and I flutter my fingers at the crowd in my best imitation of 'coy' to the endless screams of the crowd – and the glares of the Careers. You did it! You survived your interview! I congratulate myself.
I watch with glazed eyes as the other tributes stand up to talk, but not even Leo gets a fourth of the response I did; even with twice the effort. Everything passes in a big blur, and I can't wait to escape the stage to the privacy of our apartment. As the elevator shoots up, so do my spirits as it finally hits me – I may actually succeed where Jonathon failed. I may actually see Ian again. I may actually WIN the Hunger 'F'ing Games!
So Yayayayayayay! Interviews are done – as well as the most boring part traditionally. Hopefully not in your opinion; course, I won't know unless you review!