Bad Boy Better Run (Clato)

Chapter Seventeen: Edgy

No. I HAVE to win.

He delicately ran the tip of my knife over the same spot where I'd nicked him just moments earlier. I mentally scoffed. He was going to create a soap opera out of this. The entire world would be watching. So why not? Why not make it showy and dramatic? He'd gain sponsors faster than the speed of sound. However, there was one fatal flaw with his little act. A hamartia, if you will.

He'd be distracted, probably. His small brain trying to come up with dialogue while he attempted to kill me. It would be a very hard plan to execute, but it could possibly work.

I clenched my jaw tightly as I felt the familiar sensation of a blade digging into my skin as he cut the exact same place where he'd been cut. Cato, obviously displeased at no reaction, squinted at me. "You think you're so tough, don't you?"

Rolling my eyes, I smoothly replied, "No. I know I'm so tough. Idiot."

"You little-" he raised the knife up again and I took this as my one golden opportunity to launch my escape plan.

I swiftly brought my head up, knocking his head with my own before ripping myself free from his now weakened grip and taking my lovely knife back. Pulling myself up from the ground, I began to run to a safe distance where I could catch my breath and maybe even add a little more to my plan since I was completely out of tricks.

However, Cato wasn't.

I felt a hard tug on my ankle and once again I was sent crashing to the ground, this time though, I kept a tight grip on my weapon.

Cato brought his elbow down hard on my lower back and I exclaimed in shock. His hot breath fanned against my ear as he leaned down towards it. "No more tricks and I'll make your death quick and painless."

Did Cato really expect me to just let him kill me? Oh, heck to the no. I wasn't going down without a fight. In fact, I wasn't going down at all. I was perfectly fine with being his ally, but if he wants to go biserk and freak out on a killing rampage, then I will most definitely defend myself. No matter what.

"You're a flipping jerk and I hate your ugly face, " I growl harshly.

Cato chuckled. "Aw, I can't be that bad, gorgeous."

A shiver runs down my spine. He said almost exactly that same thing the very first day we met. I remember it quite vividly. The bloke had run into me at school and I'd spilled my entire lunch on him. He was such a flirt. Your typical wannabe "bad boy". There is a change in him, though. Whether for the better, I'm not sure.

"No, " I replied in a breathy tone, "you're much worse."

Cato goes silent and I know he's reminiscing. Not for long, though. He yanks me off the ground harshly and looks me straight in the eye. "If I'm going to kill you, it's going to be a fair fight."

I scoff at this; it's stupid. Is he...going soft?

"No. Come on. Come on, " I growled, almost desparately. He wasn't going to be the better person here. No.

Out of frustration, anger, and whatever else I was feeling, I took the knife in my hand and hurled it at him. It lodged itself in his leg. I probably looked like a wild animal. Breathing heavily, eyes wide and alert, my hair in every direction coming out of its ponytail.

He did not just fight me just to...to...ugh! I don't even know what. Who the heck does he think he is?

Slowly, my eyes trailed back to him, and he had an almost wounded expression on his face. He was trying to hide it, that much I could tell. This wasn't him. He was brutal, and bloody Cato. He was, and I quote, "vicious, prepared, and ready to go."...not soft, and amorous. Or could it be pity? Did he really think of me as such a weak opponent that he had to give me a "fair fight"?

Clenching my fists, I threw a punch at him. I was oh so frustrated and angry. He caught my wrist easily, with a tight grip.

"Not now, " he muttered tiredly.

"Get off your man period, " I hissed before turning and stalking away.

As I was making my dramatic exit, Claudius Templesmith's voice came over...well, wherever the speakers were, and began congratulated the six remaining tributes on making it this far. I mentally counted the tributes off; Cato, Katniss, Peeta...though he'd be dead soon I anticipated, that hulk from Eleven, the ginger from Five, and me.

My ears perked at the words "there has been a rule change". Listening intently, I found myself grinning when Templesmith announced that there could be two winners this year, as long as they were from the same district.

Only seconds before I was about to sprint back to Cato and apologize, I caught myself. No. Nope. Not gonna happen. I was not going to go apologize to that little blonde turd. He's the one who decided to attack me. He's the one who quit and had mood swings like a girl on her week, and he's the one who needs to apologize. Not me.

Was I under the impression that Cato and I would remain allies until we were the only two left? Absolutely.

Now? I'm not so sure.

Author's note: Hecka yeah I just updated. I hope you liked it, and if you didn't tell me what you didn't like and I'll try to improve my writing skills. The inspiration for this chapter was the very first chapter of this book, and, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Ah, I love that movie so much.  I was watching it last night and I compared it a lot to Clove and Cato's interesting "relationship". They're a lot alike, to be honest. Anyway, thanks for reading. Constructive criticism is always welcome. This chapter has not been edited.