CHAPTER 4 – TRAIN CAR TEN TO THE CAPITOL
The rest of the week flew by without so much as a word to anyone at home. We were on the ride back to say our final words to them, and I wondered who all would be there. We only got so much time to spend with each other. For that reason I started thinking over what I wanted to say to them. Surely my parents and Martyn would be there. Maybe Dan would be, too. I missed them all.
I glanced over at Christine, who had somehow gotten her hands on a book and was sitting in a seat opposite me, reading it. I thought about starting a conversation with her, but she looked invested in her book and I didn't want to rudely disturb her if she was happy. I returned to staring at my hands and letting my mind wander. All the research I hadn't done, the minimal knowledge of any of the Games previous, all the training I'd tried out but never picked one to focus on...
It didn't have a chance to wander much further. The train slowed to a stop and jerked us slightly. Christine looked up curiously from her book. Entering the train car was our mentor, Chad, motioning for us to follow him back out.
Normally I'd be happy to have cameras around – it was something familiar to how I'd lived before the Games had plucked me out of the comfort of it. Yet all of these cameras flashing from the second the other tributes and I stepped off of the train were more stressful than stress-relieving. Despite all this, I tried to smile and wave at everyone and throw out a few answers to questions they were shouting at me. Chad pushed me along, which felt a bit rude to the reporters who had probably waited a long time for at least a couple of quotes for their stories, but I didn't have much of a choice to stay.
I only caught a small glimpse of the other tributes before we were all pushed into separate rooms to wait for visitors. After all the rushing around, it was strange to suddenly be enveloped in stillness, silence, and solitude.
The first thing I noticed about the room was the blankness of the walls; they were barren of any art or writing or anything at all. A dulled silver colour made them appear grey and not at all as shiny as they may have been at another time.
The room wasn't huge – like a conference room without enough space for a table, so there were just chairs around in no particular order. For some sense of organization and sanity, I pushed them all to have their backs to a wall, symmetrically lined up. There was still plenty of space in the centre of the room. I sat in one chair toward the back and waited for someone to visit me in the lonely room. From the almost-cold temperature, it was clear that the room's only purpose was to hold the tears and goodbyes of former tributes to their families. No one had been in here for a very long time. The chill was similar to what someone would expect a room with a ghost would feel like.
After some time had passed – minutes? Hours? The room didn't have a clock nor a window – the door opened and my mother half-ran into our room. She made a beeline toward me and wrapped me in a tight hug. I gladly returned it; I missed her hugs already and I knew I'd miss them again. My brother was right behind him.
Martyn gave me a short, tense hug as well. I smiled up at him, hoping it seemed reassuring to how nervous he seemed.
"You'll be great, Phil. I know you will," my mom said kindly.
"Mom, he's not going to kill anyone. You know that, right?" Martyn told her.
She ignored him. "I still remember when you were a little boy... trying on all the clothes in the girls' section of the store..."
"Mum!" I giggled. She laughed with me. Martyn rolled his eyes, but still looked amused. "Where's Dad?"
"He couldn't make it. I'm sorry. He sends his good luck and says he's proud of you."
"What generic advice he gives," I teased.
We talked for a little bit longer until we ran out of things to discuss, all dancing around the topic of the Games but never really addressing the danger. I liked it that way.
The door opened again, and all of our heads turned. The time couldn't possibly be over yet.
But it wasn't a Peacemaker ready to kick them out.
"You absolute idiot, getting yourself reaped into the fucking Hunger Games-"
"Dan?"
He wouldn't look at me, but took a seat next to me. He noticed my family sitting there. I saw when it hit him that he'd just sworn in front of my mother, but she was laughing at his expression. Martyn was trying hard to pretend he wasn't stifling laughter.
"We'll leave you two alone," my mother said, standing up and giving me one last squeeze. "I love you."
"I love you, too, Mum." I forced Martyn into another hug. "I love you, Martyn. Sorry I didn't say it more."
"Love you, too. I expect you back home soon."
I laughed in spite of myself. They turned and left the room. I kept my eyes on them until the door closing blocked my view from them.
I looked at Dan, who still wouldn't look me in the eyes. He looked nervous and I didn't like it.
"I've gotten quite good at knot-tying and identifying poisonous plants!" I told him as cheerily as I could manage. "You can call me... the Plant Knotter!"
"The Plant Knotter, Phil? Really?"
"What? I can tie knots and pick plants, so who says I can't do both at once?"
"Oh my God," he shook his head at me, smiling to himself a little bit. I laughed shyly. That was all I wanted to see, really. Silence ensued and I searched for something new to say to him.
"I just want this to be over quickly."
"That's what she said."
I rolled my eyes.
"Did you see that I'll be in the same arena with the Doctor? And Sherlock?"
"Are you kidding? No one will shut up about how the Doctor fucking shot himself to be in the Games."
"I've never seen desperation like that."
"It was shocking is what it was. In any case, my money's on Sherlock. He probably knows everything there is to know about you already."
"You're probably right. A bit scary, isn't it?"
We were able to keep conversation going like it was any other day together. Slowly Dan gained some confidence in me and didn't look so afraid.
What felt like an eternity later but also no time at all, the door opened and two Peacemakers told us our time together was up. The smiles instantly fell from our faces and were replaced by panic-stricken eyes. We were thinking the same thing: there was a change we might not ever see each other again.
Dan stood so the men wouldn't have to push him out of the room. I stood with him. I didn't want him to leave yet. Desperately I hugged him tightly and hoped he wouldn't be pried from my arms just yet. Startled, I felt him tense under me, but slowly he relaxed and wrapped his arms around me, too. A lump formed in my throat, but I didn't want to cry.
"Hey, it's just a week or two away from here. I know I'll see you again," he muttered into my hair.
"I might not win," I whispered.
"You will win." He pushed me away from him so he could look me in the eye, but my vision was blurred with tears I refused to let fall. I blinked and one did. I shied my face away from him, not wanting him to see. Still, he had. He put his hand on my jaw and wiped the tear away with his thumb. "Don't be afraid. You can tie plants together if you need to, remember?"
Tears were seeping from my eyes, but a small laugh still shone through at his poor attempt at comforting me. He cared more than I'd ever known, yet thinking about it now I knew I'd never appreciated him to the extent he deserved.
"Look at me. If you want to win, you will. If you don't, at least have this memory, okay?"
"I won't forget you if you won't forget me."
"I could never, ever forget you, Phil."
Not caring about the two men trying to get us to finish our conversation as quickly as possible, he kissed me.
I hadn't realised how badly I'd wanted him to do that until I was kissing him right back.
I felt him be pulled off of me, and opening my eyes I watched one go for me and the other for him. We didn't ever lose eye contact. I reached for his hand while he was taken from the room.
"I love you," he told me desperately. I opened my mouth to tell him the same, but the door slammed closed before I could say a word.