My forehead is pressed against the cool window, and at this point my cheek feels numb. I already waved goodbye to all of the people that had rushed to the platform to see us off, their smiling faces etched into my brain. They had sprinted as far as the platform would let them, and as far as the Peacekeepers were comfortable with, before stopping at the edge waving. Annie, though not smiling, was the last face I saw. That was hours ago, and as the sun has begun to set I finally decide to sit up. Dinner should be soon and since I have skipped lunch all together it makes sense that my stomach is twisting and making all kinds of unladylike noises.
There is a soft knocking at my cabin door. I don't bother to respond, it doesn't seem needed as the person knocking is already walking in. It is Mags Flanagan, the only living female victor of District 4. She is even shorter than I thought, having only seen her on TV or from afar. She doesn't say anything as she carefully takes a seat next to me at the window nook. I almost wonder if she will speak this time, with how old she is, but just as I let my mind wander to the last time I heard her give a speech at the Center (it must have been close to 5 years ago) her lips part and her voice reaches my ears.
"I know you probably want to be left alone, but we need to see you at dinner. You need to keep your nutrition up before the games, and we have to get through introductions and rules." Pausing to take in a raspy breath, Mags turns to look me in the eyes before continuing.
"I'll give you a few minutes but I expect to see you in the dining cart sweetheart. Just walk straight to your left and you'll find us." She pats me twice gently on the shoulder before standing and slowly walking out.
Earlier, Mags had led me by the hand to my own private quarters. Each of us gets our own bathroom, and bedroom filled to the brim with all sorts of fancy and top notch clothing. She told me that I could have whatever I wanted. Coming from District 4, I was used to having the resources that I needed to live so it wasn't all that exciting for me to dig through the drawers. I pretty much got to my room, grabbed the first t-shirt and jacket I could find, along with stretchy black pants. It was much more comfortable than any item of clothing that I have ever owned honestly. Once dressed I had sat staring out the window for the rest of the day.
Back in the present, it doesn't take long before I'm following behind Mags, hand against the wall as the cart rocks back and forth continuously. It almost feels like I'm on a boat, out in the ocean again, but almost immediately that thought passes as I enter into the dining carriage. The dining cart is lined with polished paneled walls, and entirely too much extravagance. Lush velvet seats, top notch silverware, and several Avoxes are littered around the room. I nod to one as I pass on the way to my seat. Avoxe's have no tongue, a punishment for being caught committing illegal actions. A shiver makes its way down my spine, at the thought that some crimes are just the act of sneaking extra rations of food home. I take a seat next to Trent who seems to already be halfway through his third course of food. Nobody is speaking, but Trent is making some nauseating noises at his plate.
Nash, who is seated at the head of the table looks absolutely disgusted as Trent continues the moaning and slurping noises. Mags is at the other head of the table, which leaves one seat across from mine, empty. I reach over to add some items to my plate; mixed veggies, bread, and some sort of white fish with a thick sauce, make its way to me. The pain in my stomach becomes more prominent the longer I take in all of the delicious food options that are around. Nothing will equate to my ma's cooking but this might come pretty damn close. Once my plate is loaded, I begin to pour myself some pre brewed tea from a steaming hot white teapot. I barely notice that the chair across from mine slides out and he sits. Not saying a word, he grabs the teapot straight from my hands, but before I can protest he has replaced it with a small dish of sweet smelling honey.
I'm too proud to thank him, as I take out the honeycomb wand and begin to deposit some honey into my tea. Once satisfied, I put down the dish and am almost ready to take a sip before I notice Finnick's eyes glance to a second dish with a few small cubes of ginger on it. How prepared the capital train must be, with all of my favorite fixings for tea. Convenient. My district counterpart has taken just one second away from his stew to stow a glance at me, as if he doesn't think I've noticed, before continuing to overstuff his mouth with more food. I drop in a cube of ginger and relish in the smell of the tea before taking a sip. It burns my throat, but is exactly what I am looking for to calm my nerves and stomach before I begin to eat. Though the food is great, I take care to not overeat like Trent. We continue in silence for quite some time.
Nash is the first to speak.
"Okay okay. While you continue to eat, we are going to just do some introductions and go over some rules and thoughts before we watch the reapings tonight. As you know, I am Nash and I am your district's escort. I am here to teach you all of the way of the Capital, and provide you with any guidance that your mentors may not be able to provide." Nash looks expectantly at Finnick who has just finished a few bites white fish. Finnick groans before flashing his signature smirk at Trent and then me. It's almost perfect, but I catch as his smile falters when his eyes meet mine.
"Hi, I'm Finnick. I'll be your mentor for the lovely Hunger Games. Mags and I like to mentor together, unless requested that you want to be mentored apart. You two will be allies, so we think it is best to work with a team mentality to start."
I guess that was the rules part that Nash mentioned. I should be reassured that I have a forced ally, but as I glance over at Trent, who is looking a little green from all of the food he has eaten, I am not so sure of how reassured I truly feel. Trent stifles a large burp, covering his mouth with his hand, again looking like he is going to puke before it quickly passes.
Mag's voice is soft as she introduces herself to us. We all have to almost pause eating in order to hear her. I nod, slowly to show that I've heard(though I really didn't catch most of it) before introductions have landed on Trent. Having regained control over his stomach he clicks his tongue against his cheek before speaking.
"I'm Trent. I actually worked on your fathers ship Finnick before he died. Too much of a hardass but do I miss him. My new assignment- er I guess old one, sucked more. " I can't control myself as my eyes flicker to Finnick, who merely looks indifferent as he shrugs. Finnick is now leaning against his chair, with the napkin that was in his lap, now dabbing at his red and plump lips. I look away.
"Hm. I don't think I remember you Trent, but he had many sea hands on his team." Trent doesn't really seem to care as the Avoxe's have just started to clear away all of the dinner plates and replace them with a tower of mini desserts. His eyes are absolutely glued to the cake before us. I don't want to get in between him and the cake, I saw what he could do to the stew.
In front of me on the third layer up, is a berry chantilly cake. I consider taking it out of spite towards a certain somebody but instead let it go as I slowly spin the platform of desserts in front of me. Front and center is my favorite, a chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. A sugar overdose. I take it immediately, ignoring Finnick's delight as he grabs the berry chantilly cake that I was just eyeing.
I barely realize that the table is looking at me until I catch Finnick's eye and he gives me that look. The one that he used to give me when he was getting ready to egg me on into some sort of trouble.
"Oh, sorry. I'm Ariel but you all can call me Ari. I studied at the Center." I decided to keep it short and sweet, as I am shovelying chocolatey goodness into my mouth. I hope I don't sound like Trent, but I kind of don't care if I do. Finnick chuckles, a sound that brings me a tinge of annoyance but I look up at him. Exactly what he wanted.
"What is so funny, Finnick?" Nash asks, barely looking up from the dessert drink he is concocting (I didn't even know you could drink desserts).
"Ariel is being humble. She didn't just study at the Center, she was top in almost all courses. She was specially chosen to become a future mentor after this game, and is going to be inducted into the teacher prep program." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and my head cocks to the side. I slowly lower my fork to my plate.
We haven't talked in almost 6 months, there was no way for him to know what my grades were, let alone that I had been accepted into the program. I don't take the time to question who decided to provide him with this information before Nash and Mags are congratulating me and Trent's scowl can practically burn me in my chair.
"Well I see that most of us are done with our meals, and yes Trent you can bring another dessert to the projector. We will be viewing the reaping from today."
Great. More disgusting mouth noises. Is he ever going to get full?
Nash leads us to another compartment where there are several lavish looking seats and a couch for us to sit. Finnick has taken Mags' hand and is leading her to a very comfortable looking, cushioned chair. Trent sits on the couch and I sit as far from him as possible. I had hoped that Finnick would pick a spot as far from me as possible too but it seems that there are not as many seats in the cart as I had thought. Nash sits in his own chair to my right, and Finnick sits right next to me, sandwiched between me and Trent. I can feel the heat of his leg against mine, shoulder pressing firmly into me, spreading warmth throughout my body. I decide to lean my right arm on the arm of the couch, and try to put some distance between us. I don't get so lucky as there just isn't that much room. I swear, is he giving Trent 10 feet of space? As I turn, Trent has finished his last cake and is once again looking a little green, I guess I can't blame Finnick if he is.
Nash turns on the broadcast, and we prepare to watch the reaping ceremonies from across Panem. All reapings are staggered, so that the people of the Capital can spend the day partying and watching. Likely making premature bets on which children will die first, and who they may consider to be a victor. Since District 4 is so close to the Capital we can get away with doing our ceremony around 12pm, much later than many other districts.
After the show introduction, we are shown the reapings one after the other. Taking note of those in our alliance (very much a guarantee to be with Districts 1 & 2, with the possibility of 3 if they aren't looking too small this year). We examine and make comments about each child reaped. How big they were, their age, if they looked like they had any practical skills. I allowed my mind to take me back to my Center training where we are forced to examine a different game every week for years. I can tell you that judging a book by its cover isn't always the best choice at this stage, but it can definitely set you on the right track more often than not, on who to look out for.
Outside of our alliance, only a handful of people really stick out to me. An absolutely monster of a girl from District 10 appears towards the end of the screening. Her darker tan skin seems to stretch on for miles as it is clear she is well in shape from the years of field work. More surprisingly though are the tributes from District 5, 7, 9, and 12. There are an alarming amount of children who are under the age of 14. With three of them only being 12. This was their first reaping, the odds really should have been in their favor but when people are reaped from the outer Districts there is way less of a chance of volunteers. In fact, it is completely unheard of. Looking at the kids from 12, the smallest one is the boy tribute who looks like they are seconds away from withering away. Their eyes are sunken, huge gaps in their teeth exist as they grimace at the camera. I have to look away. I glance at Finnick in the corner of my eye, whose look of indifference has returned. Indifferent to viewing children who are likely to die.
There is something to say that Finnick was the youngest victor ever at age 14, but looking at the boy from 12, I can't deny that he is guaranteed to die. I might even have a hand in his death if I see him at the bloodbath. All too soon the reaping is over and Nash is standing. Stretching briefly he looks at us all expectantly.
"We should be at the Capitol in 10 or so minutes. I highly recommend that you go to the viewing compartment to see as we enter."
Looking to my right, I push myself to the front of the couch and stand. I don't turn to see if the others are following me. I take Nash's advice and make my way to the closest window. At this point I can't tell if the train is slowing or not, as its speed still makes the terrain outside the windows nearly indistinguishable.
The view sure is something. Vast mountains stretch further then my eyes can see, and some even further in the back seem to still have frosty tips. The sun, though mostly set, has just a few last shimmery rays peeking over the farthest mountain tops. We are slowing down drastically, and the lights of the capital are beginning to fill the entire train cabin up. As we come closer to the city, I begin to see people out on the streets, waving enthusiastically to our train, some looking like they are shouting and many more pointing our way. I am not really sure if they can see us but I take a second to wave anyway. Just as we are pulling into the station, and slowing even more, I feel a presence next to me. The strange capital citizens look like they are in a frenzy as they point in our direction. So many women start screaming, running at the train, pushing each other to get a closer look. I turn, and there is Finnick, grinning ear to ear also waving at the people. His shirt is slightly unbuttoned (did he get changed? I'm not even sure if it's the same that he wore at dinner) at the top, and his hair looks slightly disheveled as if we ran his hands through it frantically.
"Are you scouting out your next lover? I think I saw a very beautiful woman in a shark costume." I can see his scowl in the reflection of the window. He continues to wave. A moment later we are joined by Nash, and Trent. Trent is grinning ear to ear as he runs up to the window to shove his face and hands in it. His eyes seem so wide, almost childish at this moment.
"Come here Ari, if we wave together maybe we'll get more sponsors."
Trent has a point. He grabs my arm rather abruptly and yanks me to his side away from Finnick. We both continue to smile and wave. At this time the train has come to a stop and Nash is letting us know that we only have a few minutes before we will disembark, and head to our quarters tonight. Tomorrow will be a day filled with prepping for the opening ceremony, and welcoming of the rest of the districts that are coming from further distances. For a moment I almost see how Finnick could want to spend all of his time here(the buildings were beautiful). That feeling is fleeting as soon as I see a child with a toy knife and fake blood in hand, sprinting around to stab other adults in the legs. This is all a game to them, and we're all the losers.