No warnings for this chapter.

Avonlea Headden, 18
District 4 Female

Six weeks before the Reaping

It's always kinda warm in 4, but now it's spring and the heat has really kicked into full gear. That means pool parties. Group swims. Picnics. Volleyball games. Staying out as late as possible. Jumping off docks and cliffs. That means all the fun you could ever possibly have with your friends.

God, I really hope I get invited to something.

Well, I guess I could go on my own. There's no rule saying you need to be in a large group of loud and annoying people to have fun. Then I could do whatever the hell I want. There's nothing stopping me.

But what if people whisper? The next volunteer for the Games, going for a swim all by herself like a total loser. What would they think? The volunteer is always popular and always has a lot of friends. The volunteer is never a total loser…until now.

Maybe I should just stay inside and keep training until the trainers kick me out. I need to be as ready as possible for the Games and I can't do that if I'm distracted by way less important stuff. It'll show the trainers that I'm still super serious about this and there's no need to replace me. No need at all. I want this and they know how badly I want it. I don't want them to think that I don't care about this opportunity.

"Headden!"

Darnell throws his arm around me and almost yanks my head back. I try to shrug him off before we both end up in a pile of limbs on the floor. Thankfully, he gets the message. "There you are, ya silly goose. Ready for the pool party tonight? Don't tell Misty you're flaking out on her!"
"Pool party? I didn't know she was hosting one tonight. But if the trainers don't need me, I think I can-"

"Yeah, it was invitation only. Her parents got super mad at her last time and made her dial it back. You weren't there, were you? It was so fucking insane. Too bad her dad had to ruin everything and we can't even bring our own drinks tonight. Eh, who cares. Someone will spike the punch. Someone always spikes it."
"Ummm...that sounds intense."

I pulled off Darnell's arms from around my neck. "But I never got an invitation."

Darnell's eyes soften a little, the way they do every time he realizes that he's fucked up. "Oh. Well...oops…I thought she sent you one..."
"You thought? She gave one to you even though she hates me? Darnell! What are you not telling me?"
"Hell if I know anything! Why do you think she hates you? Was she still upset about the whole volunteer thing? Are you upset about it?"

"No." I hold the sudden wobble in my voice back in an attempt to appear more convincing. No, I'm not gonna cry over this. "Swear, I'm not upset. That's stupid. They chose me fair and square and she needs to get over it. It's not a big deal."

I can't believe Misty still hates me. But Darnell said she was upset, so maybe she's getting over it. She has to be over it, right? No, she clearly hates my guts and every fibre of my being now, over something that wasn't my choice. Darnell's probably on her side and hates me too, but he's being nice about it because he has to. Now that I don't have Misty anymore, he's my only friend left-

"Hey Headden, you know that I'm with you one hundred percent. Misty needs to get over it and then you two can kiss and make up, so my two best friends aren't fighting anymore. She'll probably get chosen next year, so it all works out."

He runs a hand through his hair. "Do you want my invite? I'll be bummed out, but she usually hosts a big party after the Reaping and hopefully I can make that one."

"What? No, no, no, no! I possibly couldn't! You go enjoy yourself! I'll find something else to do, like...training or something...yeah..."

"If you say so." Why does Darnell sound so concerned? Is he upset too? God, I may have completely destroyed my last friendship. Okay, even I can admit that's an overreaction. No way a friendship can be completely ruined by a single pool party. Misty is always a little set in her ways. We've had silly arguments before and this will probably be far from our last one.

"Go enjoy yourself. It's fine with me."
"Sure." Darnell pats me on the back. "Hey, we'll work something out! Maybe we can all go cliff jumping next week! See ya."

And then he's off. To go attend some stupid party. I swallow my jealousy. I should be happy for Darnell instead. He doesn't need to be the middleman and I don't control him. He can do whatever the hell he wants.

So why do I feel like this?

I turn back to the training dummy I was in the process of destroying. Sometimes, I wonder if there's a better method to this. Surely, come the arena, no enemy is dumb enough stand still and let me kill them. It doesn't work like that. Are my training methods wrong? Am I digging myself a bigger hole somehow? God, imagine showing up for the Games, going for the Career pack, and having no fucking clue what you're supposed to be doing. If everyone is leaps and bounds ahead, it'll be so damn embarrassing.

My knife gets stuck in the dummy and the whole thing falls backwards, sending a small flurry of stuffing up everywhere. I suppress the urge to scream in frustration. Why do I keep training when I'm feeling this way? It never has pretty results. It just makes me look stupid.

Finally, I force myself to calm down and carefully pull the knife out of the dummy. It's…fine. I'm fine. Shit like this happens all the time. It's not the end of the world.

After a few hours, the floor is closed. Well, it's closed for the younger age groups who don't need to put as much stock into the Games like the rest of us do. The older kids still use it. I could spend all night here if I wanted…but I don't feel like it. At the end of the day, I still need to be in the Headden household. It may be just as crazy there as it is here, but a good kind of crazy.

That's all I really want anyways. To sleep this day off.

As I pack up my bag and rummage through my locker, I accidentally slam my knee against the bench and send a severe jolt of pain running through my leg. "Fuck!" I yell, feeling the urge to bash my head into the locker in hopes of the two pains cancelling each other out. Just one more thing to deal with right now. My knee throbs and I grab at it, slowly easing myself down until I'm sitting on a bench with my leg tucked across my lap.

Can this day get even worse?

I end up being the last person home; Mom's already finished prepping dinner by the time I make it through the front door. I do feel a little guilty that I could've shown up in time to at least make a side or something. I just throw my training bag next to Locklyn's.

"Hey Mom. I'm back."
"Evening, Avonlea. Come sit. You can take care of your training equipment later."

The second I take my seat at the table, Mom suddenly grabs my leg, yanks up my pants to my thigh, and props it up onto her own chair. "How's your knee?"
"It's fine…"

"Doesn't look swollen anymore, so that's a good sign. But why is it red? Does it hurt? Do we need to put the brace back on?"
"Mom, if I say that it's fine, then it's fine. I banged it on a bench in the locker room, that's all."

"That's why you need to be more careful!" Monroe's voice echoes from the top of the stairs long before she makes it to the kitchen. "I always said the Training Centre is full of accidents! Now look what happened!"
"You don't know shit!" I shoot back. "Hey, where's Locklyn? I see her bag."

"With your father," Mom says evenly, pushing my knee back to the floor. As if I didn't catch the slight tinge of disgust to her voice. Man, I love the implication. My father. Like I somehow chose who I wanted my biological parents to be. Also a sign Mom isn't in a very cheerful mood tonight. Certainly there's a bit of a story there, but they're grown adults that need to learn to sort it out and I honestly don't care.

"For the record…" Monroe is still continuing a conversation I've made painfully clear I don't want a part of. "Majority of all physical teenage accidents in 4 happen during training."
"Yeah right. I bet you made that up to sound smarter."

"Like your knee wasn't-"
"No." That's a big fat lie. "I didn't injure it at training. You can't act like you know everything that happens there if you've never set foot into the damn place."
"Injure it or not, try not to make things worse." Mom points to my leg. "Again do we need the brace?"

"It's fine!"
"If you say so. Anyways, please help me set the table."

"I'm picking up Locklyn," Monroe announces to nobody in particular. "Avonlea, if you eat all the salmon while I'm gone, I'm gonna be really pissed." Then she's off.

Mom just shakes her head at me. "Don't make faces at your sister like that."
"What did Dad do this time?"
"Nothing. He just kept forgetting he was supposed to take Locklyn to an outing with her friends today. I kept reminding him, but I have no idea what goes through his head sometimes."

Oh. So my little sister gets invited to stuff and I don't? But I shouldn't feel envious of her. I don't even wanna hang out with a bunch of 15 year-olds anyways. What would we even talk about? I'm sure they don't care about training.

"Must be nice for her." The words slip from my lips accidentally. I cover my mouth. Oops.

"Oh, be nice. What's got you all grouchy today? Has to be more than a banged knee."
"Misty. It's Misty. Swear she's out to get me. It's so unfair! She leaves me out of everything, and makes a point by dragging Darnell into it."
"Have you said anything to Misty? Let her know how it makes you feel?"

"What, like rubbing it into her face? Yeah, I'd bet she'd love that."
"Well…don't be that crass."
"It's hard not to be," I admit. "I feel like being a total bitch to her. But I also feel jealous because she has other people to hang out with over me. I have Darnell, whom I'm making pick between her and me, and her. Had, anyway."

"Then maybe you really need to talk it out with each other, make proper apologies, and move on. That's my advice, if you were looking for it."

I have no idea if I'm looking for advice or not. Maybe I don't actually want any advice. Maybe I just want to complain. But I thank Mom anyways, because I don't want to seem rude to her. "I guess that could work."
"And that's why you should never doubt your old woman when it comes to relationships."
"Non-romantic ones anyway."

We both laugh and Mom just sighs as the door opens. "Ah, sometimes it's easier to laugh than cry about it."
"I guess so."

At that moment, Locklyn comes bounding into the kitchen. "Hi Lee! Oooh, salmon. Can I have some?"
"Wash your hands!" Mom says as Locklyn grabs a huge slice of smoked salmon and drops it in her mouth. Some of it hangs out from her lips and drapes over her cheek. I move the plate from her reach right as Monroe shows up. "Avonlea! What did I say?"
"I didn't even do anything."
"Locklyn!"

See, that's why I come home every day. It's insane, but it makes me feel better.

Lavarelli Pareila, 72
District 4 Escort

Lavarelli wished she had remembered her sunglasses.

She had always enjoyed the way the warm District 4 air felt on her skin and the smell of salt that lingered in the sky. Tanning her pale skin. Sometimes, she could feel tempted to rip off her shoes and run into the waves crashing onto the beach shore the way the children liked to.

Sometimes, Lavarelli toyed with the thought of actually moving here. Getting a little wooden hut next to the beach. District 4 could almost compete with the (admittedly artificial) splendour of the Capitol. She was getting old and transportation was overwhelming. The thought of settling down somewhere much more quiet sounded quite nice.

Well, maybe not living here full-time, but perhaps purchasing one of those summer homes she was constantly getting flyers about on her front door. Dropped off by a teenage boy with Shelldon Odair tattooed on his neck.

Speaking of District 4 Victors, where were the mentors? Surely they would've beaten Lavarelli to the Justice Building. Not like Lavarelli had a penchant for being tardy, but did anybody know how hard it was to get here from the train in a big red evening gown? This thing was brand new and she could not afford to rip it!

So she just stood there and waited. Check her watch. Check her makeup and make sure her bright red lipstick hadn't smudged. Fan her face. Ten minutes before the Reaping was about to begin, Concha Shaw finally showed up while dragging a sulky Colby Dansing along with her. His breath smelled of fish.

"Mrs. Pareila! I am so sorry! Did you have to wait long?"
Lavarelli just smiled. She liked Concha and the two women had grown quite close over the years. Lavarelli remembered her younger self watching with awe as Concha tore through the arena and she brought home her first Victor.

"It's alright, my dears. I'm just glad that you made it. Colby! My, it's been years since I last saw you. How are you my dear?"
"Fuck off."
"Same as always, I see."

4 politely clapped for Lavarelli was she twirled in her new gown across the stage. She had been with this district for almost 50 years now, as much a part of the Reaping ceremony as the reading of the Treaty of Treason. She always liked to make a big spectacle of picking the names, slowly and dramatically drawing a single slip of paper.

"Kaya Tarol."

A 13 year-old girl who looked almost bored by the whole thing. As per usual, Lavarelli asked for any volunteers. And as per usual, there was one. A much older girl who shyly raised her hands as if waiting to be called upon. "Um...it's me! I volunteer as tribute!"

The volunteer had short dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The sunlight had clearly been kind to her, given her tan. She was a bit on the shorter side and climbed the stage with an obvious, but slightly hesitant sense of purpose. "Hey there. I'm Avonlea Headden...the volunteer."

Lavarelli smiled. "Welcome my dear, welcome. Time to pick your district partner. Farley Trummel!"
"I VOLUNTEER!"

A boy with bronze skin started walking forward, waving his hand in the air as he did. His black hair was a bit of an unruly mess and he didn't even seem to notice it. His light brown eyes stared forward, staring at Lavrelli as he continued to march up. "My name is Cyclone Riel. But I would rather be called Cy. And I'm going to be the next Victor of the Games."

The crowd cheered out at that and Lavarelli just smiled. Another year, another Games, another Reaping, another pair of tributes. 4 never ceased to let her down. She could really live here.

Almost through with the Reapings and soon we've got pre-Games stuff to follow. Ah, pre-Games hell. I don't miss you.

January is always a really busy time for me so I will be trying to work on my stockpile in between school projects, updating this story, and who knows what else.

See you all in the next chapter,

-Vr