Haha, okay, maybe twice a week was a bit of a stretch. But I'll still try to make it happen! Never give up and all that.

Anyway, here's the next chapter, enjoy everybody!

Pre-Reapings, Districts Six and Twelve

Sadie Forde, 18

District Six Female

Before me the block stretches on and on, endless rows of crumbling houses and weed-choked brittle patches of earth before them seeming to continue farther than I could hope to walk. But I've been walking for ten minutes now, and I know this grid, and I know that sooner or later I'll come across my own house with its own rusted fence and hard plastic children's toys scattered on the lawn, and I'll be home.

I'm not the only walker. Four or five others have come from the nearest railway station, mostly my age or younger—students, probably, like myself. I get a better grip on my heavy shoulder bag as we trudge in tandem to our destinations, and piecemeal the other students peel away from the group and vanish into the grid until I'm walking alone.

Just as well. I like it better that way.

The adults will come later, when dusk just about creeps over the horizon, from factories and communications towers, sometimes from the other end of District Six, and they'll ride the stinking railway for minutes or hours to get back home. My ride is twenty minutes of sweaty, crowded horror, with me gritting my teeth to quell the rising panic in my chest until I want to scream along with the whistle. Even thinking about the railway is making me nervous. I lower my eyelids and continue on.

I'm close. My shadow is long in front of me, lanky and tall, almost masculine. The sinking sun is hot on the back of my neck but the breeze cools the sweat with a whisper and a promise of winter, months away and still enough of a threat that despite myself I start to feel cold. As I rub on my arms to warm myself, I catch sight of my house at the far end of the block, and when I see my house I see a man waiting by the nearest streetlight, arms crossed over his chest. A hood has been pulled far over his face, and what I can see of it seems too pale and smooth to be flesh at all. Masked, I think, and my heart falters. Oh, no.

I keep walking. I keep walking, and as I do he jerks away from the streetlight and approaches, his gait swaying and casual, and I know that he's here for me. He tilts his head back and the mask is illuminated more fully. White, blank face, featureless but for the holes where his dark eyes peer through and for the twisting grinning smile that has been cut into the plastic. Other Guy, I realize, recognizing the mask, He's with the Other Guys.

"Hello, Sadie Forde," he says.

I grind to a halt. His mask grins and stares at me, and I grit my teeth and stare back with narrowed eyes. "Hello, Other Guy," I say, while the breeze toys with my long hair.

He taps a finger against the hard plastic on his face. "I'm going to be blunt with you," he says. "Since you already know who I'm with and I'm assuming you have decent enough awareness of the other big gangs as well."

"The Sleepers and Howling Hurricane," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Everybody knows that."

"Sure," he says. "Well. It's been looked into, and the Other Guys are extending a job offering your way."

"Absolutely not," I tell him. I don't even need to think.

I can see him blinking through the eye holes in his mask. "I wouldn't refuse just yet, Sadie," he says. "You haven't listened to my pitch, and I can promise you that it's convincing."

I steal a glance towards my house. The lights are on and there is movement behind the curtains, and my heart aches to be home, to be warm and safe, and I wish that this conversation was not happening and that the Other Guys had never heard of Sadie Forde, because I want nothing to do with this, and nothing to do with them. "I don't care how convincing it is," I tell him. "It won't convince me."

"Don't be so sure," says the Other Guy. He waves a gloved hand in the direction of my house. "Let's walk."

I consider refusing, but I'm well aware that for all his willingness to talk things out, he's probably got a knife or several stashed on his person, and for all the talk that the Other Guys are at least civil, he'll bleed me if he has to. I fall into step beside him, hating him for the intrusion. I wonder if he can tell.

"Money," he says.

When I don't respond, he continues. "We know that you have a large family and we know none of you make enough money to support it for long," he says. "You've held seven part time jobs since you were twelve years old, none of which have lasted for more than a year. Right now you're jobless and have already taken far too much tesserae to risk taking any more." He shrugs a shoulder. "The Other Guys will never be forced to let you go because they can't pay your salary. And you'll be making a hell of a lot more than you'd be making anywhere else."

We pass my house. I almost turn towards the fence and my feet falter underneath me. In the window I can see a couple members of my family, my cousin Austin regaling his sister Harley with some tall tale, and my heart aches for home. Feeling clumsy, I turn back to the Other Guy, staring with ill-disguised loathing at the asphalt below us.

"The job you've been scouted for is very simple," he continues. "There's hardly any risk. The worst that'll happen to you in Rhodes is that you'll be expelled, and the Other Guys will find something else for you as soon as possible."

I recognize the name of my school with a jolt of nausea. "Rhodes," I say, glaring at him. "What's happening in Rhodes?"

"You know," he says. "What's happening at all the other schools. We need a few good pushers—"

"No way," I interrupt. "No way. I'm not pushing anything at school. They're kids, Capitol's sake, you want me to get kids hooked on keht?"

"No," he says at once. "Not keht. Just morphling."

That's not much better, I think, but I keep it to myself. The Other Guy spins us back around with a flick on my shoulder, and again we amble towards my house. "You have no idea the kinds of opportunities we'd give to you," says the Other Guy. "Money, power, relative safety. All for a job you could do in your sleep."

"A job," I tell him, "That I'm not going to do."

He sighs. Through the mask, it sounds like the rustle of falling leaves. "You're not giving me much of a choice here," he says, and for a brief moment I think he'll pull a knife and gut me, right here on the street in front of my house. But he just stops in place, and I stop too and watch him with wary grey eyes while he drums his fingers against his grinning mask.

"We know what your family is," he says, finally.

I know that my expression doesn't change, that I continue looking at him with detached disinterest, while my stomach churns and my palms sweat. "Huh?" I manage, raising my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"That's not gonna work," says the Other Guy. "We scouted you because of this, Sadie, because we know who they are. Who you are." He leans a bit closer, and his mask is demoniac. "Your parents and aunt, they have no history in District Six. They just appeared here, didn't they? So we looked into it, looked into their past." I can feel his breath on my face. "Authorized transfer," he says. His voice is hypnotic. "From the Capitol. There are orders in the Justice Building to keep an eye on them, even now. Worried they'll try something else." He jabs a finger in the center of my chest. "Capitolian rebel scum," he says, "And they sent them here. It's almost ironic." He pulls away from me and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Who were they related to?" he asks. "It doesn't say in the files. But they must have been related to someone important, or they would have been executed."

My mom and her sister, I think, Daughters of Peacekeeper General Wakely, but I shake my head instead of answering. The Other Guy shrugs. "Doesn't matter," he says. "If we leak the fact that your parents and aunt were Capitolian rebels publicly, the Peacekeepers will have to take action. Maybe they'll relocate them again, if whoever sent them here is even in power anymore, or maybe they'll just give them the executions they deserved in the first place." Sunlight glints off his white plastic mask. "Your choice, Sadie Forde. We can give you a new lease on life. Or we can take everything away from you."

For a moment I stand in front of him, weak with horror, mind bleating variations of How do they know, how did they find out, and none of the answers are ones that I like. They do know, I manage finally, They know where my family is from and they know about their stupid little rebellion that didn't even work and maybe they don't know that I'm the granddaughter of the Peacekeeper General but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. I want to cry, to scream, but I'm stoic, even in the face of this. They'll do it, I realize, He's not bluffing, they'll really do it.

It's not a choice. He knows it isn't a choice. I'll drug every kid in Rhodes with morphling myself, if that's what it'll take.

So when I say "I'm in," my voice doesn't waver. My hands don't tremble when we shake, and I don't break down when he walks away.

Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.

Austin Tyreston, 13

District Six Male

Oh, man. Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man.

"Bethan!" I call, clinging to the side of the comms tower with my eyes shut tight and my palms slippery with sweat, "I've made a huge mistake!"

Somehow I can hear her laughing over the roar of the wind against my ill-fitting clothing and the strange wailing sound that I'm making to drown out the fact that I'm real scared here, oh geez why did I think this was a good idea? I shuffle my feet against the metal landing below me and keep wailing—maybe if I wail for long enough a Peacekeeper will come save me? Well, probably not because the Peacekeeper will actually probably teach me a lesson I won't forget by beating the ever-loving crap out of me the moment I'm on the ground again, but I'll be on the ground again, right? That's gotta count for something.

Far below me, Bethan is shrieking with laughter. "Everdeen, Austin," she shouts, "I can't believe you actually did it! You hate heights!"

"You dared me!" I howl against the wind, "You knew I was gonna have to do it! Why, Bethan, why?" The laughter from below continues. "Bethaaaaan," I moan, "You gotta help me, you gotta save me! Get somebody! Anybody!"

"Just open your eyes, Austin!" she calls back. "You're not even that high up! Just climb on down the ladder and c'mere so I can slap you for being a baby about this."

I whimper and crack open an eyelid. The comms tower is a metal frame under my clutching hands, with gaps big enough to slip through if I'm not careful—oh no, I could slip through any of these gaps if I'm not careful. I shriek and take a step back, which brings me towards the edge of the metal landing and certain death—oh man I am in big trouble.

"Augh!" I scream, and throw my butt down onto the landing, curling up into a shaking ball. I can see Bethan dancing around thirty feet below me, a blonde vaguely humanoid blur, and I wish that my glasses hadn't broken years ago but also if I could really see how far up I am I might die right here and now. To distract myself I hum a few snatches of the Capitol anthem, which doesn't help at all. "Bethaaaan!" I try again, "Please please please get some help—lunch is gonna end soon and I'm gonna be screeewed if I'm not back in time, Mr. Wheeler's gonna murder me!"

I think she maybe sticks her tongue out at me. "You are ruining all the respect I had for you for climbing up there in the first place!" she calls. "But fine, Austin ya baby, I'll get some help. I can't believe you…" And she's sprinting back in the direction of the fence we snuck through to get out here in the first place.

Being alone up here is even worse than having Bethan laughing at me from below, and I hum even more wildly and rock back and forth on my butt, trying to think happy thoughts, like how when I get home Mom said we might have enough money for her to buy some fruit from market, and fruit is so good… Mmm, if she gets oranges I'll be the happiest person in the house, probably. Or apples. Or grapes or like any fruit. I only had grapes once in my life before and if we have enough money to have grapes again it's gonna be amazing.

Up here the wind is actually cold, and I grimace and pull my jacket a bit closer to my shoulders. Mom always makes me wear a jacket, even when summer only just ended, but I'm glad I have it now. Oh man, I never should've come up here in the first place. Terrible idea. Even if it was a dare…

There's a hint of sound from below, and I risk a peek to see two blurs sprinting back towards the tower. One of them is definitely Bethan, and the other is hopefully here to rescue me. "Hello?" I call, looking at my worn shoes, anything but the drop underneath me, "Please tell me you're here to save me."

"She's here to save you!" Bethan yells. "Sit tight, kiddo, she's coming up!"

I scoot a few feet away from the ladder, being sure not to scoot so far that I scoot straight through one of the gaps in the tower, therefore scooting to my death. I grit my teeth and rub my shoulders as quickly as I can as a mousey-brown head of hair peeks over the lip of the landing, and then a very familiar fringe, and cold grey eyes that I know at once because they're the same color as mine, and I'm nearly crying with relief when I call out "Sadie! You came for me!"

There are bags under my cousin's eyes as she crawls onto the landing and settles on her knees, long brown hair whipping around her head in the breeze, jacket practically lifting off her brawny shoulders. "Sadie!" I gasp, "Bethan dared me to climb up here and I did it but now I'm freaking out because I don't think I can get down and I don't wanna die up here, Sadie, I'm super scared." I'm babbling. "Mom said she was gonna buy fruit now that you're bringing home so much extra money and I don't wanna miss it oh geez I really don't wanna die."

"You're not gonna die, Austin."

She shuffles closer and I clutch at the front of her jacket, staring into her eyes and hopefully her soul so she can't lie to me. "Promise?"

She nods. "I promise," she says, twirling one of my blonde curls around her finger. "I've got a plan."

"Oh thank the Capitol," I blurt. "What is it?"

In response she shucks off her jacket and swivels so I'm facing her back. "Arms around my neck," she orders, and I do what she says and whimper nervously to myself as she ties my arms in place. "There now," she says, "Just clutch with your knees and you won't slip off."

"Are you sure you can handle both of us?" I ask her, as she moves towards the ladder.

"I'm sure," says Sadie. "I'm strong, right?" She swings over the lip of the landing and I gasp, squeezing her ribs with my knees as tightly as I can.

"Right," I sob into her hair, "Super strong, and tough."

"Well, there you are, then," she says, grunting softly. Her body moves underneath me and I can feel every step against the rungs of the ladder. Yikes. "I've got you, Austin, there's nothing to be afraid of."

I babble nonsense into my cousin's ear until I feel her foot falling on solid ground. Then I whoop, claw at the knots holding me against her back, and tumble to the ground. She turn with a raised eyebrow as I hoot and thrust my fist towards the sky. "Yeah!" I exclaim, "You did it Sadie, you saved me!"

She smiles, but her eyes are flat. "You're not going to do that again, are you?" she says. "You and Bethan shouldn't even be leaving school grounds during your lunch break."

"We won't do it again," interjects Bethan sweetly, grabbing my arm and knuckling my hair. "So sorry I had to pull you out of class, Sadie, but I wasn't gonna get him down myself."

"I understand," says Sadie, "But I'm not joking, you two. Don't come out here again." Bethan nods and scampers back towards the fence, and I move to follow her, but I change my mind and hug Sadie around the middle instead. She strokes the small of my back and sighs.

"Sadie?" I say, pulling away so I can see her face. "Why've you been so tired lately? You look worn out."

She looks away. "I'm not," she says, even though I can see the bags under her eyes, the lines on her face. "I'm fine, Austin."

I consider this. "Okay Sadie," I say. "I love you."

She smiles. "I love you too," she says, giving me a quick squeeze. "Go back to class, now, and don't let me catch you out here again. Alright?"

"Alright! I'll see you at home!" I call, and scamper away, back towards the fence. As I crawl through the hole I can feel her tired eyes on my back, just for a moment. Then I'm through, and she's gone.

Margery Devereux, 15

District Twelve Female

While Forrest reclines on my bed with a thick grin plastered across his face, I push my sheets away from myself and slide out of bed. His eyes rake across my skin as I cross the room and pick up the packet of chocolates he bought for me, chocolates he assured me were Capitol-made and shipped to Twelve specifically so he could give them to me. I cradle them in my arms and bring them back to the bed, sliding under the covers and wriggling closer to Forrest. He wraps a broad arm around my waist and pulls me snug against him as I pick up the first chocolate and pop it into my mouth. Nougat, I think, and there's a thrill of pride for even knowing what that word means, Pretty good. Not the best I've ever had, but pretty good.

Of course I have to watch my figure. Every chocolate that I eat is a hundred calories or so that I'll have to work off, or it'll come back to haunt me in the form of fat that'll weigh me down and make me uglier than I already am. I pinch the fat at my stomach and frown, pushing the chocolates away. I've changed my mind. Chocolate isn't anything to get fat over.

Forrest is pressing his lips against my shoulder. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, and his breath is hot on my skin. I almost jump him again right here and now, but instead I settle against his chest and smirk up at the ceiling.

"Oh, I know," I tell him, tossing white-blonde hair over his dark skin. "You don't deserve me." He laughs at that, and his lips are hungrier on my neck.

"Maybe not," he rumbles, and the vibrations make me shiver. "I'll take what I can get." He reaches up and takes a handful of my chest in one hand, squeezing enough to make me squeal.

I roll off of him and swaddle the sheets around my body. "Tell me more," I breathe. "Tell me more about how beautiful I am."

He rolls onto his side. His eyes are almost black and they shine as he looks at me. "Margery Devereux," he says, and the way he says my name is erotic, everything about him is. "You are, by far, the most beautiful girl in school."

I nod. "More."

"That figure," he says, "That body, you drive everybody crazy just walking in the halls like you do." His grin splits his face. "I don't know why you chose me, but I'll roll with it, I can tell you."

As much as I want to remind him that I haven't chosen him, that by tomorrow it'll be some other boy I'm hunting down after class, I want him to keep going much more. "Oh, Forrest," I breathe, sidling closer, "You have a way with words. More, please."

He groans. "Margery," he says, "I can say it over and over again and it'll still be true. You're beautiful. Really beautiful. Your face, even, your skin, everything about you is just—you're perfect," he decides, attention rapt on my face.

I lean over and kiss him on the lips. He tastes like candy, and my eyelashes flutter at the thought. When I pull away, he's breathing like he just won a race. I tend to have that effect on people.

I get out of bed again and cross over to my full-length mirror, angling my body to get a good look at it all. Legs too small, feet too small, torso too short, breasts asymmetrical, hair too long, someone needs to cut it—ugh. I suck air in through my clenched teeth, narrowing my blue eyes at my own reflection. She seems to be laughing at me through cruel, thin lips, whispering ugly against the ice-glass insides of the mirror, fogging it with her cold breath.

I toss my hair and turn my back to the mirror, swaying in place and then dropping to the carpet and slowly working my way back up. Forrest whoops from the bed, and I grin over at him, appreciating his blindness. All boys are blind. Poor stupid boys. When they groan against me and swear that I'm a beauty, I'm lovely, precious, the lies feel good and I let them go on and on.

I sashay my way towards him and then pull back and dance back to the mirror, wiggling my too-long toes and blowing kisses. "Let me put on a show," I tell him throatily. "Watch what I can do." He's interested, I can tell from the way his eyes sparkle. I strike a pose, one creamy hand on one slender hip, and purse my lips.

The song pours from my throat like milk from a pitcher, thick and smooth, and for all my flaws I've always been decent at this, at least, at singing. Forrest leans forward while I sing, raising his eyebrows when I hit a particularly high note, smiling very slightly. When I'm done I'm suddenly exhausted, and collapse onto the bed in a heap, smirking when he breaks into a cheer and claps loudly enough that maybe, somewhere else in the house, my mother can hear me successfully impressing a boy. I can do it, mother, I think, skin crawling just to think of her, not everyone thinks I'm as hideous as you do.

"I didn't know you had such an incredible voice," says Forrest, rubbing a strand of my white-blonde hair between his thumb and forefinger. "I'd never heard you sing."

"You just weren't listening then," I sniff, because I really do sing very, very often in school, in every situation I think a song could conceivably work. There were other girls proud of their singing abilities in years past, but they've dwindled every year that I continue to flourish. Just like they should, I think, smoothing the sheets underneath me, there's no point competing with me when I'm clearly the best.

The ache between my thighs has cooled into disinterest. Suddenly the room is stiflingly hot, the bed too small for both of us. The idea of his broad smiling face pressed against my own is not as intoxicating as it once was. Moodily I fetch the chocolates and slide into bed beside him, slapping his hand away when he reaches for one.

He seems to have senses my sudden shift in mood. "Uh, Margery?" he says. "Are you okay?"

I swirl the fruit-flavored center of one of the chocolates against my teeth, blink several times, and say, "I think you should go."

He pulls back. "What?" He frowns, shifts under the sheets. "Margery. Did I do something wrong?"

I yawn and settle back against the pillows. "No," I tell him, "But I'm getting bored now, and I want you to go. It's not that hard to understand."

Slowly he gets out of bed, starts pulling clothing on. "Uh… When can I see you again?"

I consider it. "Probably not ever," I tell him. "I think I'm going to move on. What do you think about Glenn Applewood? He's Seam, which means he's poor and probably beneath me, but those pecs…"

Forrest takes a step back. "Are you joking?" he says, disgust creeping over his face. "Margery, what the hell?"

I flutter my lashes in his direction. "Still here, are we? What about bored didn't you get?" I waggle my fingers at him. "Tata, Forrest, it was fun but not the best I've ever had. That would probably be Buck Meadows. Shame he turned out to be one of those types that sleeps with women and men, the freak."

Forrest opens his mouth as if to speak, and seems to think better of it, hurrying from the room still half-undressed. I smile at his hasty retreat, but it's not much of a smile. I thought I'd feel better with him gone, but now the room feels almost cold. I huddle underneath the sheets and chew methodically on another chocolate, wondering how quickly my body will convert it to fat, and for a moment I don't even care.