And we run

Seventeen, too

Coira does give me her own little mini-speech, but she doesn't say anything about my life after the games. I don't think she thinks I'll live--which makes sense, really. I don't think I will either. 

She just tells me to look pretty, act sexy, and be happy. I wipe invisible tears from the corners of my eyes as Apollo and I walk towards the carriage. Apollo's outfit is a mirror image of mine, minus the tulle and long skirt. They're both fitted in just the right places; sparkling like bright sun on the ocean. 

Grayling makes us hold hands. I don't want to but I do, because I know Grayling would be mad if I didn't and he's the one teaching me self-defense, something I'm not remotely good at. I don't want to make him mad. 

Apollo smiles at me. His hand is warm and clammy, and I can tell he's nervous. I give him the faintest of smiles back, for Grayling. 

And then we're through the tunnel, and light is shining everywhere, and people are cheering, and it's loud and I have to stare straight ahead to keep myself from screaming. 

Apollo doesn't seem to be having the same problem. He looks out the window and smiles at the crowd, waves, flashes an even brighter smile that almost makes me gag. 

I know I should too, but it's hard. I know I need to get over it, so I do. I look out the window, I smile what I consider my prettiest smile; I blow kisses, I wink, I act sexy. 

I do everything Coira tells me to. I hope I made her happy. 

She's not anywhere to be seen--but Thetis is, sitting with the other stylists on that special bench above the President. She waves at me and I wave back at her, for real. 

I hear people shout my name, over and over again. After a minute it becomes a chant. I smile wider--I like being recognized, being loved. Thetis was right. 

Apollo's after, but his is quieter than mine. He smiles but his smile isn't quite as wide as mine. I wonder if he's happy, too. He doesn't look it. 

We go through the next tunnel, and are swarmed by people. Coira, Grayling, Prometheus, Thetis, Apollo's stylist. I hug them all and so does Apollo. 

Coira grasps my shoulders and tells me I did just wonderfully. Thetis does the same. They're both grinning wildly. I smile too, and there are smiles all around. 

"Wonderful job!" Prometheus booms to me and Apollo. We both smile at him. 

For a moment, I don't feel seventeen. I feel nine again, visiting my grandfather when I was young. He was a lot like Prometheus, I think. 

The sad memory doesn't have much of an impact of the overall atmosphere. I'm happy, Apollo's happy, everyone else is happy. 

I'm led to my room in a parade of people, talking and chatting and chatting and talking. They smile and laugh until their jaws hurt, and I'm right with them. 

Until my door closes, and everything is empty. The parade leaves and I'm alone. My smile disappears, my laugh dies in my throat. 

I stand in front of the door, unsure of how my life has changed so quickly, so drastically. A tear slips down my face. 

***

An hour later, after I've regained my mood, I explore the room. A clock on the wall reads 5:37 P.M. The shower has multiple settings I can use--I try out some of them, rinsing the makeup from my face. When I look in the mirror, I feel like a new girl and yet somehow also the girl I've always been. 

A screen on the wall lets me order food, but an Avox comes in and tells me that dinner will be in an hour, so I don't get anything. Dinner will be terrible, but I'm sure it will also taste better than whatever food I could get from here, and it would be awkward to sit at the table, full, with nothing to do.