Though my mind's been trained to avoid certain memories of the past, they'll instantly come back if provoked into doing so. Still, I can't forget most memories, however irrelevant or useless they may be. Sometimes, when particularly weird ones come up in my head, I feel sorry for Eli. It's almost impossible to get rid of the useless parts when you have photographic memory.
Though I have tried hard to forget the worst times in my life, certain ones in particular; my attempts have never ended successfully. Just so, ever since my name was drawn, I have known that this moment could not be avoided. If there is one part of his old personality that Ash has kept, it's his ability to always show up where he's needed. Especially after he watched his girlfriend get the life stabbed out of her by a Career.
I am still gawping dumbly at Ash before he shakes his head at me and gives me one of his old smiles, one that he often reserved just for Eli and myself. "Are you glad to see me, guys?" His soft voice empties the room of all sound, and everything is still. The ceiling could crash down and no one would ever notice.
Before I know what I am doing, I find myself squeezing the life out of him, grinning and saying, "Yes, you idiot, of course I'm glad." Eli joins our tight circle, and I hear him laughing, something he hasn't done with all of us together in a really long time. Finally, the moment is broken when Cedar gives Ash a slap on the back that almost sends all of us sprawling. Then we all spread out on the various colorful, weirdly-shaped couches in the living room. Eli and I end up on this curvy red couch standing on three legs; Cedar sits on a blue couch with mahogany panels that somehow does not break under his weight; Gem harrumphs alone on a burgundy armchair, and because there are no couches left to sit on, Ash plops himself neatly on the floor. Then we get down to business.
"While you two have been frolicking in the parade with your costumes," Gem begins, looking at Eli and I with very lightly veiled contempt, "I have been slaving to get you two sponsors." Eli shoots a look at Ash, and Ash gives him a dismissive wave. Gem sees the gesture and glares icily at them before continuing. "So far, you two do not have a very promising start. The sponsors I have been trying to convince to sponsor you are demanding more to work with." Gem looks at us from under half-closed eyelids, and I wonder if she is waiting for us to finish her message.
"Are you trying to suggest that we're doomed?" I say coolly, raising my eyebrows at her.
"Precisely," Gem replies matter-of-factly, as if she has been expecting this the entire trip.
"Well, I don't see you trying very hard to open up a better future for us," I mutter. Conveniently, or maybe not so much, Gem overhears me. I don't even know if I was trying to provoke her, but a second later, she's shaking me, screaming something about etiquette and how stupid I am. I hear Ash yelling something and feel Eli trying to separate us, taking my curled fists from Gem's dress and smacking Gem's fingers away from me. I can't help but be thankful that I have donned some convenient protection by wearing the tree trunk. Then Cedar rips us apart, and I fall sprawling on the couch.
Gem is cowering on the floor, while Cedar towers over her, his eyes dark with rage. I see Ash out of the corner of my eye, his face pale, and I know I am seeing another one of Cedar's mood swings. He brings his hand up, and I know he's going to hit Gem. Before any rational thought registers in my mind, I rush in front of her, and hear her let out a shriek before I feel the weight of something heavy come down on my face. I hit the floor, and then everything goes black.
. . .
When I wake up, I find myself in an artistically furnished room, lying on a bed. My quarters is a likely place. I push the thin layer of blankets off of me, and find that I am not wearing my parade wear anymore. Good. But I am still wearing the simple black body suit that Vernus insisted that I have on underneath, and my braid is laid out across the pillow.
I stiffen when I see the hunched figure in a chair next to the bed. Cedar. He is in the same position he was in when he snapped out of his mood swing on the train- head in hands, defeated. He doesn't respond when I sit up, but when I touch his shoulder, he looks up at me. His eyes are bloodshot, but I doubt that he had been crying. I smell wine on his breath and don't have to look further for an explanation.
"How are you doing?" Cedar asks me. His voice is very quiet.
I shrug, trying to look nonchalant about the entire thing. "I think I'm fine," I say, though I have no idea how truly fine I am.
"You don't have a concussion," Cedar informs me, still avoiding my gaze. "Just some swelling. Otherwise, yes- I think you're fine."
He hands me a square mirror that is all smooth angles, and I take a look at myself. Other than the fact that one of my cheeks is purple and my eye is a little bruised, there is nothing to show for what happened tonight.
"Look," Cedar says, "I know I'm supposed to mentor you, but I really think that I should just step away for now." I open my mouth to protest, but he silences me with a hand. "I don't want to hurt you two," he continues. "Tonight was incredibly lucky. You could have ended up in a coma if I'd hit you hard enough. And you could also lose sponsors if something like this keeps happening."
His wording is grim, but the fact that he's worded his statements in this grim way doesn't make me doubt his honesty. I stand, looking at him from the angle my father would have- as a man who needs reassurance. "You can still keep teaching us," I reassure him. "If you have any tips, I'll keep them in mind. You know more than we do."
Cedar smiles, and I wonder if Eli or I have ever reminded him of our father, his best friend. "All right, I will." A pause, and then he asks, "Would you like some dinner?"
I shrug and reply, "Only some of a main dish and a little bit of a side dish, please. I'm not actually very hungry."
"Right," Cedar says, and leaves the room in search of dinner. A minute later, he appears with a small platter of food and silverware.
"If you need anything else, let me know," Cedar tells me, and then shuts my door lightly behind him.
I mentally say a quick blessing over my food, like my family always did, and take a nibble of each food on the platter before digging in. The thick noodles with snap peas and the strawberries cut into fans disappear quickly enough, but the lamb stew I take my time on. It is gorgeous, with chunks of rich lamb and plums making a grand impression on me. I end the meal in a good mood. I quietly pile my dishes on the nightstand, and pick up a remote control. I press a random button on it, and suddenly, one of the walls changes from marble to a scenery of the Capitol. I sift through all of the options until there is a picture of a redwood forest spanning my wall. Then, I press the button that I know dims the lights, and crawl under the covers, too tired to fight off thoughts of my family. Instead, I embrace them, and for once, my dreams are comforting.
. . .
I wake up, my brain telling me that it's around six o'clock in the morning. I also know that if it isn't very early, I would have heard Gem banging on my door, demanding to see me for breakfast. As soon as I get up, I feel a chilling sensation in my gut. Anxiety. What do I have to be anxious about? I think dumbly at first. And I finally remember.
It's the first day of training.
I finger my bruises gingerly. Then I think back to Cedar's conversation last night. You could also lose sponsors if this keeps happening, he had said. What would my potential sponsors think if they saw me with bruises now? What would anyone think, for that matter? Maybe they would think I am tough, and somehow favor me for getting into a fight before the arena. Maybe they would connect the dots and trace it back to Cedar, and then I would lose sponsors. To hide them or not to hide? I pick up the mirror lying on the nightstand, and decide that trying to hide the bruises would look weak.
I take advantage of the extra time by exploring the quarters. There are so many high-tech gadgets just lying around the place that it would probably take all morning, if not longer, just to see what each one did. There is another shower just like the one on the train, only there is no vial of pine gel in one of the pockets; and a giant menu in the kitchenette. Everything is very carefully furnished, and I almost feel glad that I'll be living here for the next few days. Almost. I'd be more glad if the promise of death didn't linger in the air.
I hear a knock on my door, but it isn't the loud rap that Gem uses- it's softer. I visualize Eli's knuckles tapping my door. I hear a quiet whistle at the crack between the door and the wall. A long low note, followed by a short high note and a long middle note. I open my door, and Eli, eyes less than bleary with sleep, soundlessly bounces in. I shut the door as quickly and quietly as I can, and Eli plops onto my bed.
"Why so hyper?" I ask curiously.
"I don't know why, Cass, but I feel excited for today," Eli replies easily, crossing his legs on my covers.
I can't help but feel a little bit concerned. This is not the Eli I saw on the train, nor in the Remake Center, or in the elevator. " Um- so you feel excited for today- and what?" I say carefully.
"And I feel incredibly nervous," he says, deflating as fast as he got his energy. I'm very confused at first, but then I know. He's just trying to block out his anxiety. Just like me.
"You need to put on your outfit," says Eli, pointing at the black suit I had slept in.
"What outfit?" I say, looking around the room. I finally spot the small pile of folded clothes in front of the closet, and Eli goes to the kitchenette to get an early-morning snack as I open the closet doors, and scoop up the clothes as I go. As soon as the doors close behind me, a bright crystal illuminates the contents of the closet, and I hold up the clothes to the light. Black leggings, a short-sleeved black tunic with burgundy stripes down the sides and sleeves, and some sort of athletic shoe with ridged soles. I slip them on easily and exit the closet. I undo my braid, now messy with being left in for so long, and join Eli for breakfast. He has set two plates on the island in the kitchenette, and beckons me to join him. I sit down on the chair that Cedar had pulled up to my bed; and as I eat my breakfast, cooked oats with honey, Eli braids my hair.
Normally, I braid my hair into a standard commonhouse braid that can hardly be bothered with when it comes to most girls in my district. When Eli does my hair, however; he's always creative, and does something different each time. The results are almost always appealing, and this time, that fact is no different. He braids the hair at the sides of my head and joins them with a usual braid down my back. I examine it, and decide that it looks good for today. Then Eli gets a bowl of oats for himself, and we sit at the island.
After we eat, I grab the remote control and select an image of the Capitol to replace the one of the redwoods. It morphs quickly, and I look from the window to the city around. The streets are filled with people and cars, but at least the windows save me the noise. Maybe they are solid walls, after all; only you can see right through them. The sky is a light blue stained with the remnants of a sunrise. I call Eli and we leave my quarters to see what everyone else is up to.
We find Cedar already eating in the dining room. I do not see where he got his food at first, but almost as if he reads my mind, Cedar gestures out towards the left wall. My head turns and sees the long wooden counter covered in various breakfast dishes. Eli and I each grab a plate and fill them, careful not to grab too much of the richest dishes. I grab a couple of rolls, and some eggs and white grapes. I set my plate down next to Cedar's just so he knows I still trust him, and Eli does the same. I find a teapot and pour some tea into a china cup. It's dark and fragrant, and when I take a sip, it tastes bitter. Well, at least that's familiar. I take a longer sip, and exhale through my nostrils. Bitter is good.
After gorging ourselves for a few more minutes, Cedar rests his elbows on the table. "All right, let's do this." Eli shoots him a questioning look, which Cedar waves off by continuing his speech. "I am going to coach you both, but first, I need to know your skills." He nods at Eli to go first.
"Cassia and I can climb trees," Eli begins, and Cedar barely reacts to the statement. No surprise there. Most tributes from District Seven climb trees. "We can hunt and set snares. I have good aim."
Understatement, I think. Eli has perfect aim.
"Do you have good aim, Cassia?" Cedar asks me. I shake my head no. I may be accurate with a bow, but I couldn't throw a stone, much less a knife, to save my life. "And your skills?"
"I'm good with a bow," I say. " Eli and I are fast runners. We know about plants. We both have pretty fast reflexes." Then, just for the heck of it, I add, "I can win a fistfight." That part is true enough, at least.
Cedar nods, never missing a word, mentally adding everything up in his head. "What about axes? Do you two know how to use axes?"
Eli and I shake our heads. Cedar raises his eyebrows, looks mildly surprised. I guess he's been away from my family longer than I'd thought. Yet I don't blame him. You would expect us, as tributes from Seven, to be able to use axes; but for us, that is not the case. A fat majority of kids in the district are the children of lumberjacks; so of course they know how to use axes. It technically makes District Seven a Career district. But Dad is a carpenter; my mom a furniture builder. No need for axes there. And most kids follow their parents in their family's occupations.
"All right, so what I'm able to get is that you, Eli-" he nods towards him- "are good with throwing weapons, and you, Cassia-" he nods towards me- "are good at archery and hand-to-hand combat, and both of you know what it takes to survive. Am I correct on all of this, or am I missing something?" Eli and I nod to show we understand, and he continues. "Both of you should save these skills for the private sessions with the Gamemakers. The survival skills you can still visit, but I would advise that both of you learn something new for the next few days in the training."
Eli nods and mutters something through a mouth full of food. Cedar doesn't ask him to repeat what he had said. Eli shoves a few grapes into his mouth and continues eating as if he'd said nothing. Is it just me, or are they purposely not talking to each other? Is Eli angry over what happened last night? I mentally deny this thought, as Eli is the forgiving type, and he can read people better than I can.
Cedar stands up and grabs a remote control identical to the one in my quarters. He presses a button and the wall becomes clear as glass. He leans slightly forward, squinting up at the bluish slice of sky between our building and the next. Ha, I think amusedly. People from Seven may not actually have a need for clocks- we can read the sky. "You have some time left," Cedar says. "But you should go to training within the next thirty minutes if you want to be early enough to stake out a spot for yourselves."
"Right," says Eli, and we head to our quarters for some extra time for ourselves before we leave for training.
. . .
I check the sky for what seems to be the tenth time today. It still baffles me that I hadn't read on my ability to check time. Speaking of which, is it time yet?
. . . Yes, I assume so. Right on the dot. Or so from what I see outside.
Eli and I are quick to bid Cedar and the annoying beast Gem on the way out. Ash is nowhere to be seen. "Take care of the bruise," Cedar calls as we walk out.
I feel my mouth curl at the corners in a smile. At least he knows that he's been forgiven.
The elevator ride is so quick, I feel my stomach fly up towards my throat. The dropping feeling almost gets rid of my anxiety. Almost. I find that I can just as easily bring the feeling back when I find the sliding silver doors that lead to my life for the next few days. I force myself to suck in a breath, and press the silver knob next to them. The doors open, and Eli and I strut in.
The Training Center is a large, cavernous underground area that is situated underneath the tributes' quarters. I am stunned by the roof of the place. It is a large, uneven stretch of black stone jutting out from above us, giving the appearance of a wild body of water in a storm. Around the floor is a large array of stations, ranging from targets and dummies to wrestling mats and rings, and even a few climbing courses. The whole sight is exhilarating, but reality makes the prospect truly terrifying. A million ways to show off. A million ways to die. The Gamemakers know as well as we do that the fittest most often survive.
Oh, and speaking of which, I think blankly as I get a number pinned to my shoulder, there are the fittest.
Not surprisingly, all the Careers seem to be here already. When we walk over to the main circle where the tributes seem to mostly hang out, the Careers turn and study us. Look at us like we're delicious platters of meat. I fight hard not to squirm, and focus instead on staring indifferently ahead. Fortunately, it does not take long for the other tributes to start filing in, and the attention of the Careers gradually drifts from us to them.
I look around the uneven, tense circle of tributes and my heart sinks at the sight of all the kids that I'm going to have to fight to get home. I'm not the smallest, but it is painfully obvious that I am definitely one of the smallest. There are only three girls who are most definitely smaller than I am- Maggie, and the girls from Three and Five. Worse, the only boy smaller than me is the twelve-year-old from Six- and he's barely half an inch shorter. Not even. I glance at Eli, and feel an unexpected pang of worry for him. Because of that, he has to be the second-smallest male tribute.
I see a broad-shouldered blond man take a stand in the center of the circle. I recall him only a little bit, but I do remember that he is the Head Trainer, and has been at this for the last twenty or so years. For some reason, no name comes up with his face, so I have to be content with the morsel of information I already have about him. He gives a lecture about training stations, and about death rate in the arena, the same message of doom he gives every year, on and so on. Then he dismisses us, and the attention-hungry Careers instantly go for the most deadly weapons that they can handle. The rest of the tributes scatter, shuffling about until they find a station that guarantees a possible low profile for them. No one wants to be on the Careers' kill list.
Unfortunately, I happen to catch Maggie's eye. She stops in her tracks and waves wildly at me. I internally groan. Okay, maybe everyone but you, Maggie. Eli leans in close to me and whispers, "Okay, where to?" I shrug carelessly and follow him as he beelines towards a random station with almost no other tributes.
I can already tell that today is going to be a very long day.
- - - - - - - - - - -
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