Bad Boy Better Run (Clato)

Chapter Five: Anger Issues

~*~*~*~*~

Hey y'all! YES. They are almost to the arena. And then the fun begins. *cue creepy clown laughter and crashes of thunder* Heh heh. Okay, a couple things here so none of you are confused :)

1. CLOVE IS SIXTEEN DURING THE GAMES. Okay? Okay. Just clearing that up.

2. CATO IS EIGHTEEN DURING THE GAMES. Got it?

3. Yes, I'm working on her sadistic attitude and Cato's cold-heartedness. Don't you worry. Y'all know I've got the gore covered.

Also, I've decided ahead of time that there will never be a sequel to this. Like no. It's just not happening, I refuse to ruin another story. Sorry! So how are all of you? Good? I hope so. I'm alright. I've MET A PLAYER BUT I DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS A PLAYER UNTIL NOW. It makes me so mad. He's basically the stereotypical bad boy. He's nice to me, but then I found out some stuff about him and now I'm kinda trying to avoid him. I'm so nice, I know. Seriously though, I can't believe some of the things I heard. Well I guess I can. Anyway, I suppose I shouldn't hold any of it against him until I've found out whether it's true or not.

NOW...

For the featured presentation!

~*~*~*~*~

We had been on the train for approximately two hours, four minutes, and thirty-six seconds, and I was already beginning to get bored. Don't get me wrong, I was extremely excited for the Games. It's just that sitting and doing nothing - no matter how luxurious the place is - is just not my thing. And there was no way I was going to try and talk to Cato. Why would I try to make up with him if I'd only have to end up killing him? It would be pointless.

I drummed my fingers on the granite counter tops of the small bar in the dining car as I thought over the whole situation. Of course, I could always use pawns. Maybe I should make up with him.

Hopping off the very modern-looking white stool I had been sitting on, I exited the dining car and slipped into one of the other cars that contained a seating area and a large flat screen TV. Cato was there, along with Enobaria, our barbaric mentor with crazy teeth. I assumed they were already talking about strategies for the arena.

"Uh...Cato, can I talk to you for a second?" I asked.

He let out a sigh. "What."

I rolled my eyes. "Get over here."

Cato scowled before getting off of one of the couches, and coming over to me. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want?"

I chewed on my lip nervously, trying to decide whether I'd made the right decision or not. Well...there's no time like the present. "Would you want to be my ally?"

He laughed. He actually laughed! Right in my face! "Well, I kinda have to, " he said, his signature smirk making its way onto his face.

"You're darn right you do!"

Cato rolled his blue eyes. "No, you idiot - I'm not doing it because you want me to. I'm doing it 'cause it's like an unspoken rule. Districts One, Two, and Four always ally together. Duh."

"Oh...right, " I murmured.

Of course we would ally together! How could I have been so stupid?! Districts One, Two, and Four had this thing where they would band together - take out all the weaklings, so the competition would be more interesting. I'd heard Outline Districts would call us the "Careers" or something like that. That brought a smile to my face. Everyone knows once you've made a name for yourself, you're feared.

"Y'know...I really don't want an idiot as my partner. Maybe I'll just kill you in the bloodbath, " he mused, stroking his nonexistent beard.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Excuse me? Um, there's no way that you could kill me. In fact, I'm going to kill you."