Needing the Impossible (A Clato Fanfic)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Nearly a month has passed since I found Clove's surprise in my backpack, and somehow, things are actually improving between the two of us. The next day, I had tried to play the sympathy card, but needless to say, she was completely remorseless. At the end of the day, I had changed my method of attack, confronting her after training about using that kind of a weapon against me. She had been impassive and practically ignored my rant, until I slammed her against the wall. That had gotten her attention. We then spent nearly half an hour fighting with each other.

The day after that, Clove hadn't spoken to me, but it was more of an embarrassed silence than one of brooding anger like it had been previously. I had considered apologizing to get her to trust me, but I figured she would think I was being weak. So instead, I maintained an aloof manner until about two weeks ago, when she finally spoke to me for the first time since our fight. She had asked me to spot her on a high ropes course we were doing. It was a completely unnecessary request, as I was going to have to spot her anyway, so I knew it was her way of saying she was done fighting with me.

Not to say we were going flawlessly now. I still get incredibly frustrated with both her and Fabrizio, she still blows up in our faces, and Fabrizio get pissed off by our lack of cooperation. But at least she hasn't tried to knife me lately.

Today has been pretty good, actually. The only weapon we practiced on was knives, spending the rest of the time doing agility and dexterity drills. Needless to say, Clove has been in a really good mood – for her anyway. She hasn't even growled at Fabrizio yet. But, of course, Fabrizio feels he has to end the day on a bad note.

The sun is streaming in through the windows, hot on my bare back, as I try to wipe off my sweat with an already sopping towel. Clove is a few feet away from me, doing the same. I tilt my head back and swallow the last mouthful of water in my bottle as Fabrizio starts talking. “I suppose that'll do for now,” he sighs. “Clove,” he pauses, “you have a huge ego on you. Your arrogance is going to be your downfall in the Games if you don't watch it. It's sad, really.” I make eye contact with Clove and she glares at my confident smirk. Though really, I know what he's saying is unfair, my ego is way bigger than hers, no matter how prideful she may seem. “Cato,” our trainer turns to me, “What the hell is wrong with you? We've been working with knives for the past week, and your form still looks like shit. Keep working like this, and District 13 will be able to beat you.” It's now Clove's turn to smirk and my turn to glare. “Oh,” Fabrizio adds, suddenly sounding bored, “And I won't be here tomorrow. You kids will be on your own.” He then leaves, offering no further explanation.

On our own? What the hell? Can we even get into the gym without a trainer? He may actually be giving us the day off. It's moments like this when I wish father would just pay for my training instead of making me earn it. A dedicated, strict trainer would be appreciated.

I'm about ready to follow Fabrizio out the door and chew him out when I get this idea. I've only gone a few times, as my father doesn't really approve of it. It's something a lot of the Careers do in the evenings, or when their trainers is out sick. It's a sort of recreational activity, normally done in groups of three or more, so I know Clove has never been.

I glance over at Clove, who is gathering her things to leave, so I lean against the wall next to her, ready to block her path. “So we're on our own,” I casually observe.

“Well spotted, genius,” she mutters, slinging her pack over her shoulder. The deadness of her reply surprises me; I can tell she's just as exasperated as I am. She should be spitting her words at me like venom, not looking at me with a bored, somewhat detached expression. But I guess she's exhausted from the intense training combined with her poor diet.