Before I'm ready, Beau and I find ourselves on the train with Quintillus. Dazed, I stumble into the nearest seat. Quintillus is saying something but I can barely register it over the pounding in my ears. I glide my hands over the seat, trying to calm myself.
"Hello?" Quintillius says, obviously irritated. "Have you two been listening to a single word I've been saying?" Clearly Beau seems lost in thought too, slumped over and picking at his skin. "Your mentors aren't just going to wait around for you two to stop lazing around." He rolls his eyes and strolls over to a cart with various bottles of liquor.
"Oh, ignore him," says a tall woman approaching me. "He's just bitter that he didn't get transferred to district one this year like he wanted." I recognize her as Penny Walker, victor from a few years back. I've never met her, but I'm surprised when she comes over and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. I suppose I've always imagined victors to be cold and callus, but I won't reject any kindness I can get in the last few days of my life though. To my knowledge, Penny won her games mostly hiding out, only engaging in combat near the end of the games. Nearby stands Shep Warren. I don't remember the exact games he won, but they were well before I was born. Despite being near forty, he's buff and a little scary looking, displaying the perpetual scowl he has on stage every year at the reaping.
"I'll be mentoring you for the games this year", says Penny. "Beau, this is your mentor Shep." Shep gives Beau a little nod from his seat. "I'm sure you two are hungry," Penny says, "why don't we all have something to eat." At a long table a feast is laid out - bread, fruits, soup, meats, some foods I can't identify. I've never seen so much food at once in my life. "Is this all for us?" Beau asks, his sad eyes full of hope. "Yes," says Shep, "and eat as much as you can, I want you both to gain as much weight as possible before the games."
Anxiety is making my stomach clenched, but I don't have to be told twice to eat. I fill up a bowl with a thick,meaty stew, and a plate with buttered bread and cooked vegetables. The meat is rich and melts in my mouth, better than anything I've ever tasted. My family raises livestock, but we never see much of the meat we butcher. The best parts were sent to the Capitol, I assumed, while we're allowed to keep only the milk and a few eggs.
Most of what we eat comes from my tessera and whatever edible plants Rider and I manage to find in the fields. The thought turns my mouth sour. How can I be eating the best meal of my life while my family starves at home? My parents would give their lives to give my siblings and I a meal like this. Most families I know would.
"I don't want to stress you two out too much, but it's good to start talking about strategy as soon as possible," Penny says. 'What are you two good at? Anything you think might be helpful."
Turning away from the food, somewhat disgusted with how much I've eaten, I answer Penny. "Well .." I start thinking of anything impressive I could share. "At home I help take care of the animals. Milking the cows and goats. Collecting eggs. I've butchered meat before. And I can run quickly. I used to always beat my classmates in races. But I guess that was a while ago."
"Me too," Beau chimes in. "My pa has started teaching how to butcher cows. He said my skills are improving real good." "Good," Shep says. "That's a good start. But at your sizes I don't see either of you butchering many tributes. Hiding from the others will be your best chance at survival. If they can't reach you, all you'll have to battle is the arena itself."
"The arena?" Asks Beau "What do you mean, like fires or things from the gamemakers?"
"Well sure," answers Penny. "You never know what they could throw at you. But more importantly you'll be fighting thirst and hunger. Focus on that in your training. It'll be your best bet at staying alive." We wrap up the conversation for now, agreeing to do more prep talk once we arrive in the capitol.
Penny and Shep's advice stick with me all night. My head is spinning and focusing on what I need to do during training helps. I'm treated with more capitol luxuries the rest of the day. A hot shower washes off the sweat and tears of the day. Food is available in the dining cart all day, and whenever I feel tears threatening to spill out, I go and get some food in my stomach instead. It makes me feel sick, being this full but I ignore the pain, keeping in mind Shep's advice. The train is quiet at night, but I can't imagine Beau could be sleeping. I wonder what's going through his mind right now.
I'm not sure how much I sleep that night, but I'm awoken by the sunrise and the sight of the capitol in the distance. I head to the dining cart to see Quintillius is the only one awake. He gives me a look of disapproval when I walk in. "You don't have to wear your filthy reaping day clothes, you know. I don't want the capitol seeing you in that drab outfit for the first time." I'm suddenly self conscious. I've worn this dress for reaping day the past few years, and despite it growing tighter across my chest, it's my best outfit. Without a word I head back to my room. It never occurred to me to change clothes, but a wardrobe is filled with clothes for me to wear.
Various sizes made me think someone had to stock it with fine Capitol clothing that could fit any tribute. Are these same clothes here every year, waiting for the next district ten girl sentenced to death? I shudder at the thought, but settle on a pale blue dress that I hope Quintillius will find acceptable. For good measure, I rinse my face and use my finger to comb through my hair before heading back to the dining cart.
By now everyone else has arrived and is filling their plates. "Now, doesn't she look lovely?" Quintillius says I enter, making my cheeks turn red. Possibly seeing my discomfort, Beau comes over, holding a steaming mug. I thank him, taking a sip of hot milk mixed with something sweet. "It has caramel sauce," he tells me, "a treat from the capitol. But the milk is like home." I smile at him and take a seat at the table.
"Quintillius, did you make that girl pretty herself up for you?" Shep asks, glowering. "Well don't make me sound like one of those capitol citizens," he says. "But yes, I told her to tidy up." Look," he says with a sigh, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad, Georgina, but no one in the capitol wants to see another dirty little farm girl. You're pretty. I can sell pretty. With some more work, the capitol citizens will love you." I'm not sure what he means by "those" capitol citizens, but I'm surprised he even remembers my name. I've never thought much about my looks, but I'll take whatever advice I can get. I head to the bathroom and look in the mirror, pinching my cheeks red and smoothing my hair before the capitol gets its first look.