Game On

Chapter 4

I wake with a start on the last day. The only thing I have today are interviews. Then it's off to the arena tomorrow morning. Where I have a 99% chance of dying.

Dev arrives in my dressing room with... another dress. Ugh. But, I decide when I see it, it's actually very pretty. It reaches the floor, a metallic silver gown with one diagonal shoulder. Sienna and Nelly fix my hair into a sideways French rope braid, adding in a matching silver ribbon.  I feel so glamorous, almost like I'm a different person.

Backstage, even Cameron seems unable to pry his eyes away from me. Beetee walks over and pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. I have to stop myself from shivering at his touch.

"There," he says. "You look perfect."

Forget the Games, I think to myself. I could die right now and I'd be happy.

Just then, Mason, the boy from District 2, walks offstage. Ceasar Flickerman announces, "From District 3, please welcome, Miss Wiress Plummer!"

I stroll onstage to meet him, smiling and waving to keep up my cheerfully geeky image.

"Hello, sweetheart," he says as he shakes my hand. "Take a seat. Now, can you tell us any tactics you might use in the arena?"

Here's where I get to have some fun!  I smile mischievously. "You know I can't give away anything, Caesar! All I can say is, I'll be difficult to catch. You never know where I might show up."

"A very clever answer! If I'm not mistaken, your sister was a tribute two years ago. Am I correct?"

"Yes. Joules Plummer."

A sandy-haired boy in the audience catches my attention. Twenty-one year old Haymitch Abernathy from District Twelve, who won the Games five years ago, in the Second Quarter Quell. He looks at me knowingly, as if he can relate to my pain. Quinn mentioned that he always showed up drunk to their mentoring sessions. Talk about hurt. He had to survive against forty-seven other tributes.

"Do you think you have a better chance of winning than she did?" Caesar asks, bringing my focus back to the interview.

I shrug. "I guess we're about to find out, aren't we? But I don't consider myself better than she was, by any means."

"So, you're hoping to honor her by surviving as long as possible?"

He took the words right out of my mouth. "Absolutely." 

"Good luck, Miss Plummer, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Night falls too soon. I keep pacing the hallway of our suite anxiously, wearing luxurious Capitol-made pajamas. What am I hoping for? I don't know.  But I'm dying to take one last trip to the balcony that sticks out from this floor, with a shining view of the Capitol. Maybe it can help clear my mind.

As I'm standing out there, I hear a voice call me. "Wiress?"

I turn around to see Beetee, still in his interview suit. Wow, he's handsome. Suddenly, I wish I were still in my interview dress. 

"Hey. I thought I'd find you out here," he says happily.

"You were looking for me?" My heart starts beating faster than I can run. Not that I want to.

"Yeah. See, I've always made sure that I visit my tributes the night before the Games, to give them some last bits of advice and say goodbye. I already talked to Cameron."

"I'm sure gonna miss that boy," I say sadly.

"You'll watch out for him, won't you?"

"Of course," I tell him. "We're going to be allies."

"Good choice," Beetee says, nodding. "You two work together really well."

As much as I try to resist, I'm staring into his deep brown eyes. They've got so much warmth in them that I can hardly think about anything else.

"Thank you, Beetee. For everything." The next thing I do surprises even me. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. Immediately, I back away, embarrassed.

"Sorry. I just wanted to see what it was like. You know, in case I die."

"Don't be sorry," he says softly. 

"What?"

He steps closer to me. "I said, don't be sorry."

Before I know what's happening, he's pulled me in by the waist, kissing me back.  For just this moment, I can forget all about the Games.  Why can't we stay here forever?

Beetee presses our foreheads together. "I couldn't let you go in there without showing you how I really felt."

"Me neither," I answer in a whisper.

"You're better than you give yourself credit for, Wiress. Now, get some rest."

How am I supposed to sleep after my first kiss? Not only was it a big moment, but in my current situation, it also means I have another person to win the Games for. No pressure.

I eat a gigantic breakfast in the morning, not knowing when I'm going to have my next meal. Scenarios of different arenas keep popping into my head. Is it someplace I'm familiar with? Probably not. Nobody's ever truly prepared for the Hunger Games.

In the Launch Room, I say goodbye to my stylists, who pull my hair back into another French rope braid.  It seems like a lot of fuss over nothing. "Um..." I try thinking of something to say as they primp me up. "You do know my hair won't stay this way the whole time, right?"

"We still want you to look your best in there," Dev insists.  He opens my clothing bag to reveal a maroon t-shirt, a pair of cargo shorts, a wool sweater, snow pants, and a gigantic winter coat. If the weather's planning on changing, this will be a tough load to carry.

Once I'm dressed in most of my clothes, he helps me into the coat.

"And the most important accessory: boots! Oh, by the way, there are gloves in the coat pockets." 

I merely nod, because if I speak right now, while my nerves are at their highest, I might throw up. As the Peacekeepers take me to my Launch Pad, I try to distract myself by thinking of Beetee, how sweet his kiss was.

Then the dreaded countdown begins. All of us tributes stare at each other, surveying the arena. In the distance, countless shrubs, towering pine trees, and ice-capped mountains await. The ground is covered in an inch of snow. That explains my need for layers of clothes. It's absolutely freezing. I slip on my gloves. Thankfully, I've dealt with winters worse than this back in District 3. I'll be able to tough it out. The Cornucopia sits on the top of a small hill, a distance of probably fifty feet away.

Too quickly, it comes: "Five... four... three... two... one."