I can still do this

chapter 21 Cato bonus

When I get home from 12, they tell me I'm not strong enough. They say I looked ridiculous on that stage next to her. She was the true victor. I looked like an imposter. I've been losing muscle since the Games, slimming back down to something closer to how normal people look. But they say I should never drop my guard. Constant vigilance is the only way to feel secure.

Something about that last thing sounds wrong, though I can't figure out what. I don't argue with the, though. The trainers are still stronger than me. I still have to listen to them. And although I didn't act like it, sometimes next to Katniss, I felt like I didn't belong. So I go to my first training session without trying to fight it.

They take me to the basement of the training center, into a back room full of spare mats and punching bags. There's one chair in the center of the room, one flickering fluorescent light. I've got a bad feeling about this, but I sit in the chair when they tell me to. It's not like I'd be able to get out if I fought.

Then they tie me down, slipping on hard plastic ties before I have a chance to do anything, pulling them so tight they cut in to my wrists, ankles, waist. Before I can argue, they explain in very reasonable tones that this is necessary. I might try to fight against the training, they say, and that only would hurt everyone in the long run. Much better to get this done painlessly.

Except nothing here is ever done painlessly, so I know that's a lie. And if they think they're gonna need me tied down, then it's gonna hurt a lot. I ask what they're gonna do, but they don't answer. I ask again, then again, getting louder until they answer me. they say it's gonna be steroids, straight into my arm, and I shut up for a second.

We don't use steroids here. They're the easy way out, and nobody wants the reputation of someone who can't put in the effort to get strong naturally. I guess maybe they could really want me bulked up. That could be an explanation. But I think it's probably more likely that they're gonna inject me with something painful, or maybe a sedative. There's almost an endless amount of ways this could go horribly wrong, but no way for me t get out. So I just say to myself, "at least they're not doing this to Katniss." That thought can get me through almost anything. The Capitol. Definitely this.

The instant the needle touches my arm, I know what's in the syringe, what they're pumping into me. nothing else burns like tracker-jacker venom. Since it's directly in my bloodstream, the pain is more intense, sharp and white-hot. I want to rip off my skin, but I can't move.

Before the pain fades out, they start playing footage from the Games on the wall, all these shots of Katniss, who's dirty and exhausted, so it must be from near the end. I still think she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen, but I don't say anything. First, I can't; the venom practically sizzles in my veins. Second, this isn't a good thing, to see her face here. They're not the type for reminiscing.

And then they start talking, low voices narrating what's happening. The pain is still so intense that it takes me a while to figure out what's going on, what's wrong about Katniss, their tone changes. They try saying she didn't care about me, that I was an afterthought, that she wanted to kill me.

"No, that's not right," I say when I'm sure I can talk without embarrassing myself. "that's not what she's like. What are you doing?"

no answer. They just keep talking, telling me how much I don't matter to her. After they run out of shots of her from the Games, they move on to our interviews together, that first kiss in the elevator, and they keep telling me these lies about here, not giving me any time to talk anymore.

When they're done with me, I feel sore in my bones, a deep ache that I can tell won't go away for days. They let me go home, but only after showing me pictures of Silas, Sophia, and then Katniss, and Prim. If I don't cooperate, they say, accidents could happen.