The Panther Girl: 55th Hunger Games

Chapter 8

The next days of training go by like a gust of wind. Eli and I explore everything there is to offer. Despite the need to seem weak, we are good at almost every skill we run into. Edible plants tests get perfect scores in the blink of an eye. Our climbing methods are quick and get us easily compared to squirrels. Eli masters attacks and defenses with a fishing spear. I find that I am strong enough to bench-press my own weight. More tributes seem to shy away from us as we walk past, and it almost seems worth the effort.

If we didn't have stalkers, that is.

Three stations into the second day of training, I begin to notice that the tribute that we want the least on our backs is following us. Closely. He has been at the last few stations with us, and while he does not participate much in the training, he seems to have been monitoring everyone. But today, mostly us. Exclusively, us.

I can tell that though Eli doesn't look over at Cornelius, he has always known that he was there. Eventually, I begin to get annoyed that he isn't trying to help me come up with a plan for getting him off our backs. Because if we've been trying to lie low for the last days of training, there is probably a problem if we've caught the sudden attention of the most powerful of the Careers. A big problem.

But Eli nonetheless never responds. And I begin to catch on. Because Eli always seems to have a plan. And I begin to get the idea that if I stay silent, maybe- just maybe- we'll prevent some mishaps in the arena.

. . .

After all morning training, the tributes are herded into a cafeteria. The room is not part of the training rooms, but it has the same structure- high ceiling of jagged rock, with synthetic lighting. Unfortunately, even with the long oak tables and various food carts filled with our steaming lunches, the cafeteria nonetheless has the same atmosphere as the training rooms. More reminders of who is probably going to die in the arena.

I'm sure I'm not the only tribute to pick up on this, though. The Careers, who are first in the cafeteria, push past everyone and mark out one table for themselves before grabbing their meals. No one outside their group dares sit near them. They undoubtedly intend to elevate everyone's anxiety, after all. Leave it to the Gamemakers to help them do this. And it seems to be working on several of the tributes.

Though I'm not sure I want to risk the Careers' attention, I don't want to seem weak. So while many eyes stay fixated on their pork and mushrooms, I allow myself a general sweep of the activity. I start with Eli, who is sitting across from me; to Eli's right, in the general direction of the Careers; and then move on to the tributes from Nine, who are animatedly chatting away. The others might actually be afraid of us, too; because everyone is at least two tables away. My eyes travel from one corner of the room to the other. Other than the pair from Nine, almost everyone is silent.

That's when I feel it. A sudden prickle at the side of my neck. I lightly finger it, trying to rub it away. When it doesn't budge, I feel my fingers tugging at the collar of my shirt, trying to cover the spot on my neck. Then I feel more of the strange feeling join it. The prickling is at the side of my face this time. I raise my head from my meal. Are people staring at me?

I turn my head to my left. Eli's right. Cold dread fills me when my eyes meet the Careers', and my stomach turns to ice. Oh no. Oh no no no oh no oh no. Cornelius suddenly gets up from the table. His giant shoes thump as they make contact with the floor. I vaguely realize that he is walking toward our table. No. NO. What did I do?! Behind my emotionless expression, I feel like I may lose my lunch.

The table rocks as Cornelius sits down. Eli looks up in alarm, and his eyes widen. He quickly recovers his sure composure, but he shoots me a look that says: What the heck is going on?! But I don't know. At all.