Not All's Fair in Love and War {A Hunger Games Fanfic} {On Hold}

Chapter One: Odds

Sure, my mom and I are hanging on by a thread. But that doesn’t mean we should be depressed, right?

I go to school with a smile on my face, and immediately become everyone’s friend. When I smile, everyone else does. When I head home from school, I go to the bakery for my job.

I get paid little, but it’s enough. Quite often I’m sent home with extra food, or stale pastries, or burnt bread.

My mom usually isn’t home, because she’s working at the market, selling her jewelry and clothes that she makes.

When she comes home, we openly discuss our days. Our relationship is precious, and I never want to lose it. We rely on each other, and I’m perfectly fine with that.

Though we appear to do well, we still struggle daily. Sure, The Seam is a tough place. Almost everyone, including us, receive tesserae. It still kind of stuck even after the Games were demolished. The age limit of 12-18 (for tesserae) stuck too, and I’ve been receiving it each year since I’ve been 12.

But the Games are being restarted this year, against the will of almost every District. But President Wae insists, and if we resist.. It wouldn’t be pretty.

I hate the way the country has reverted back to its old ways, but history always repeats itself, right?

And apparently, all the tesserae I’ve been taking for my mother and I since I was 12 is being counted as extra entries in The Reaping, just like the good old days.

So instead of my name being entered 5 times at age 16, it’ll be entered 15 times. Not as much as others, but it still worries me.

I love my life, and I’d never want to risk it in the Games. I have so much that I’ll never want to give away.

So today, I’m preparing for the Reaping, wishing and praying that my name won’t get called.

I put on my nicest button up shirt, pull on some black trousers that are saved for occasions like this, and comb my hair nicely.

I turn to the mirror on the wall and stick my tongue out. My black shaggy hair is now hanging limply around my face, instead of falling into my electric blue eyes. I shake my head wildly, and my hair returns to its usual state.

Standing up straighter, I nod to my mother, who just finished getting ready.

May the odds be ever in my favor.

Juliette

I tuned my mom out as she yelled at me for the millionth time today. She was really stressed out, getting ready for the Reaping and all. I knew my name had a slim chance of being picked, but she still wanted me to look “beautiful enough to be on camera,” which apparently was really hard for me. My dad was also nervous, as he was the first mayor to do a speech for the Reaping in 100 years.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My curly blonde hair has been put in an updo with curls spilling out at the sides of my face. My cheeks had their usual rosy glow, and the rest of my face was accented with makeup. My caramel colored eyes traveled down to the dress my mother had forced me in. It was a one shoulder blue velvet dress that hugged the waist. Finally, my feet were already hurting in strappy heels that used to belong to my mom.

It was ridiculous, having to dress up for an event that would eventually lead to the death of 23 young kids. But it was required by our stupid President.

So against my will, mother and I headed to the District square, where many others were already gathered. I saw moms hugging their daughters a bit too long, and fathers refusing to look their sons in the eyes because of the tears about to go down their faces.

I turned to my mom to say bye, but she was already gone. My heart dropped, but I faced the fact -- I hadn’t expected my mom to say goodbye anyways.

I proceeded to the sign in counter.

“Juliette McKinley.” I said to the woman who sat by the counter. She scrolled through the list and nodded at me after a bit. I saw her cross my name off on the long list.

Walking towards the crowds of the girls, I saw a few of my old... acquaintances. They saw me too, and immediately sneered in my direction. I had no choice but to stand by them though, seeing as they were in my age group.

Instead of looking in their direction, I scanned the rest of the crowd. A screen in front of us told us that only 17 people were missing -- no, 16 now. I turned to see who had walked in.

Maxon Summers.

Maxon

Ah, crap. I was almost late to the Reaping. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I sheepishly smiled and headed to the group of boys my age.

My mom had literally taken the air out of me when she hugged my goodbye. She was so worried I was going to get reaped.

“Mama, I’ll be fine!” I squeaked. She had looked at me with teary eyes and nodded, giving me one last squeeze. 

As I arrived to my group of friends, which included boys from both The Seam and the Merchant area, I still felt an unsettling gaze on me. I turned in the direction of the girls’ group, and saw Juliette McKinley immediately flit her eyes away. That girl was staring at me? Ewgh.

I turned back to the guys and Chance Bradsur laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“That freak Juliette was staring at you man.” He said through his laughs. I started laughing with him. What was a girl like that doing looking at me? I mean, she’s so weird and such a social flake, it’s not a surprise that no one likes her.

“Guys, it’s not right to laugh at her like that...” said my long time best bud, Greg Johnson. But even he was smirking and holding in laughter.

“And look at her --” Chance had started up another comment about Juliette, but he was cut off by the sound of the buzzer. I jumped from surprise and turned to face forward. The screen at the front was flashing 0. The Reaping was about to begin.

A/N: This is a very, very short chapter, but it's just to set up the feel for everything. I hope you guys enjoy it, and please please please tell me any feedback!