One Lucky Winner

Chapter 20 ~ Thomas

I open my eyes, and see my dimly lit room. I close them again; I'm still tired, and this bed is way too comfortable this morning.

But then I'm suddenly curious. What time is it? Barely aware and awake, I prop myself up on my elbow and look at my clock. 10:27.

I spring into panic immediately. Training started an hour and a half ago! Are Newt and Minho awake? Did they leave without me? Why didn't anyone wake me up?

I explode out of bed and rip off my shirt, and then it hits me and I suddenly remember. We don't have training today. Yesterday was it. Today is the day we get evaluated individually.

I feel relief flood through me, even though I feel like an idiot for not remembering. The relief, though, is immediately replaced by fear. I'm scared to get evaluated. Trina told us that the higher the score you get, the more sponsors you'll receive. So, if I screw up, I'll get a low score which means no sponsors. No sponsors means no gifts or food or anything like that. So basically, today determines if I'm going to survive or not. It's too much pressure for me to handle right now.

I shove the fear down as I dress and exit my room. I peek in Newt and Minho's rooms, and see that they are empty. Newt and Minho already up.

I slowly walk down the hallway and into the living room. Minho is sitting on the couch watching something on TV, and Newt is at the table.

"Well, there he is!" Minho says as soon as he sees me. "Good morning, sleeping beauty!"

"Shut the shuck up," I say. "Yesterday was rough. I deserved a long sleep."

"Yeah. Rough because you were too busy trying to beat my record..." he teases me with a smile. He's been arrogant and incessant about his broken record for the mile. It was humorous at first, but now it's pure annoying.

I shake my head and walk to the table. I sit next to Newt.

"Well, somebody likes sleeping," he says as soon as I sit down, taking a drink out of a mug.

"Well, somebody likes coffee," I reply in the same tone.

I hear Minho laugh from the living room. Newt smirks and sets down the mug. "Joke's on you. It's tea."

"Of course it is," I say, picking up the empty plate. I dish myself up an omelet and see that Newt has a piece of paper by him, and is reading it.

"What's that?" I ask him.

"List of all the training stations," he replies. "Don't know what to show them today."

I feel my hopes lift, because I don't either. I'm glad I'm not the only one. I lean over to him and glance at the list.

Newt looks at me. "What're you gonna show them?"

"God, I don't know," I say.

"We should've figured this out earlier."

"I know," I say, looking at the list again. I think back to all the stations I've done. I was good at all the conditioning, like weight lifting and cardio. I can't just show them that, though. They want to see actual weapons. I was okay at spear throwing and gun shooting. I could show them one of those.

"I think I might show them spear throwing," I decide.

Newt looks at me. "You can do that good?"