Author's note
Apologies for the lack of updates. For some reason which I cannot fathom, college is determined to slow Midnight's entry into the Games.
I oppose this, and would like him to suffer as soon as possible.
This is a pretty short chapter but I did it instead of coursework, so don't complain unless you'd rather I upload a poorly-structured essay on gay law reform.
If only coursework was as simple as killing 23 other teenagers.
Chapter 9
The following day, all the tributes sit at tables in the Training Centre canteen.
A buffet is set up along one wall, offering cuisine from every district, as well as Capitol delicacies.
Rubis and I eat opposite one another at a table in a corner. Both our plates are piled high with sweet treats from the Capitol. We have the chance to live off dessert; who wouldn't take it?
Around the room, the other tributes sit at tables alone or in pairs. The only large group is the Careers.
In one corner, the lizard tribute ravages his plate of raw meat. When he is finished, he casts his yellow eyes around the rest of the tributes, as though selecting a dessert.
Bretta and the tribute I have named Yucky are arguing. I wonder why they even sit together when they so clearly don't get along. Then again, perhaps they wouldn't get along with anyone else either.
My face turns red as I see a boy and girl kissing at another table.
It takes me a while to recognise them as the kids from Eight. In their training kit, I don't have their distinct attire of blue blazer and black trench coat to distinguish them.
They leave their food untouched as they give disdainful looks to the rest of us. They go back to kissing.
Don't they have more important things to worry about?
I turn my attention back to Rubis.
Although he keeps glancing at the Careers' table, Rubis makes no effort to approach them.
We decided that it would be best to do so at lunch time, when there are no hammers, swords or maces for them to drive us off with.
"How are we going to do this, then?" I ask.
Rubis seductively pops a peppermint cream into his mouth.
I watch his lips move as he chews, forgetting about my own food.
He's staring at me.
I stare back. The noise in the canteen becomes muffled. Rubis is surrounded by a rosy haze. Little hearts flutter around us…
"Did you hear what I said?" Rubis demands.
"What?"
I snap out of my reverie.
"I said you should talk to them, not me."
"Why's that? I feel like you're more similar to them. You have a better chance of getting on their good side, with your… your charm, and, um, your face…"
"No," he says between bites of flapjack, "I'm not talking to them. Anyway, I think you're more similar. They are the strongest and smartest here, remember?"
"I suppose you're right… I would fit in well with them, wouldn't I? But what if they feel threatened and make fun of me?"
"Come on." Rubis pressures, "You don't normally worry about making a fool of yourself."
I sit in silence, considering.
Another conversation catches my attention on the other side of the room, between the girl and boy from Three.
I estimated the girl to be around twelve, and the boy fourteen, even though he is the same height as her. He has large glasses and braces, and his unruly brown hair looks as though static electricity is always running through it.
The boy talks animatedly to his district partner, without breaking eye-contact. She could not look more uninterested in the conversation.
The girl has straight, blonde hair, scraped up into a high ponytail. She has heavy makeup on, with false lashes and her eyebrows completely redrawn.
Despite that, she still appears the youngest here. As I watch, she timidly asks the boy to get her something from the buffet.
Her sigh of relief when he leaves is almost audible from across the room.
She hastily gets up and walks over to the Careers' table.
"Oh no." Rubis mutters.
He is looking in the same direction as me.
"Quick, go now; she'll beat us to them." Rubis implores.
How am I supposed to ignore a direct order from him, when he's putting so much trust in me?
I decide that if this relationship is going to work, we are going to have to make compromises. I must be strong and do this for Rubis.
Fixing up my hair as I stand, I hurry over to the Careers.
The little girl still beats me to them.
She is mid-sentence when I put a hand on her shoulder and say, "Sorry, the grown-ups need to talk. You can wait-"
She jumps back from me and cries, "Pervert! Don't touch me."
"You would get along with Pinty." I mumble, "Anyway, so if you could just-"
Jess interrupts me, "Rude much? She was talking to us first. Clear off."
Fuming, I take a polite step back.
"I'll just wait my turn then." I huff.
The blonde girl glances nervously at her district partner, still at the buffet, before addressing the careers. She looks specifically at Salto, avoiding eye-contact with any of the scary teenagers.
"Um, so… My name's Elsie, I'm from Three."
"Yes, we know." Says Sugar.
"I'm here because I… well I'm in an awkward position with Eugene – the boy from my district. He wants to work together, but he's weird, and I don't want to work with him in training or the arena. But I can't survive on my own… Can I please join your group? I would feel so much safer."
Gregory snorts protein-shake out of his nose.
"Have you killed before?" asks Sugar.
"No…" Elsie mutters dejectedly.
"Would you kill someone, though?" says Salto.
"I… I don't know."
"Come back when you've got a kill or two under your belt." Greg says.
"But I don't have the chance before the Games! I've never killed anyone, I'm only twelve."
"Hasn't stopped me." Salto boasts, "But I do feel for you. Can she join, guys? Please?"
"No." says Greg decisively, "Too weak. I'm barely allowing you on the team, you little squirt-"
Sugar has a fork to his eyeball before he can even close his mouth.
"What did you call him?" she seethes.
Greg raises his hands, annoyed.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Sugar. Salto's fine. But I'm not having any more goddamn tweens in the pack."
"Elsie!"
She jumps.
We whip around to see Eugene beckoning to her with a wide, gap-toothed grin.
Dejectedly, Elsie trudges back over to her District Partner.
The Careers return to their food.
In Elsie's absence, I move closer to hover behind Sugar and Gregory's chairs.
Gregory's and Jess's plates are piled high with protein. Sugar and Salto have finished their meals and are now digging into a slice of chocolate gateau each; Sugar with a little more ferocity than the cake deserves. Meanwhile, Rob is trying to find his way around the lobster that sits atop a pile of seafood on his plate.
"Can we help you?" Jess says coldly.
Greg turns to look at me and puts one muscled arm over the back of his chair. In his hand is the largest chicken leg I have ever seen. He rips meat from it with his teeth.
Sugar ignores me entirely.
I'm not sure what to say. I can't imagine myself as part of this group.
"I was, um…"
I look at the ground and shift my feet uncomfortably.
I say, "So… Rubis and I are allies now…"
Sugar speaks without looking at me.
"Are you telling us this to dissuade us from coming for you in the bloodbath?"
"No, I was wondering-"
"So, you do want us to kill you off first then?" Greg jeers.
"No!" I gather control of my tone, "N-not that you could if you tried. You see, I am only here to offer my services as an ally to you. I would be a valuable asset to your team, you can be sure of it. Also, you would get Rubis too but he's my ally and he can be part of the group but he's mostly mine."
I catch myself before my speech speeds up anymore.
Other tributes look on from around the room. Minx watches, entertained, from one table. On another, Izzie whispers something to Corvid. They both look back at me as they laugh.
Both tributes from Two snigger. Salto appears bemused, and I can't see Rob's face behind the giant lobster that he is now trying to deshell with his teeth.
Sugar daintily spins around on her chair and stares unblinkingly at me.
"I'm afraid you have wasted some of the little physical fitness you have to approach us. The answer is no."
I scowl, then huff, "This isn't over. I'll win your hearts whether you like it or not." As an afterthought, I add, "And I did not waste my effort, because I was heading to the buffet anyway. So ha."
With that, I storm past their table to get myself more food, despite having not finished my first plate.