{AUTHORS NOTE: HUGE S/O TO @KNIFETHROWER_ FOR THE MOOD BOARD FOR THIS CHAPTER! SO MUCH LOVE FOR YOU. HOPE YOU LIKE THE CHAPTER! <3)
Walking through my front door I notice my dad sitting at the dining room table looking over his tablet, "Where's mom?" I ask, walking towards him.
He glances up at me, "Work."
"Work?" My mom hasn't been to work in months.
"Yeah, she volunteered to help out somewhere. Not sure." My dad sets his tablet aside and takes his glasses off, rubbing his nose, "How was training?"
"Fine." I glance around the dining room.
"You work on throwing at all?"
"Yeah."
My dad looks over my face a bit before responding, "Why the short answers?"
"Just had a long day, that's all."
"Alright," he nods, "don't forget tomorrow that paper is due in your communications class."
"I know, dad."
"What was it on again?" he taps the table with his fingers lightly, scrunching his eyebrows in a thinking manner.
"Interviews."
"Ah," he hums, "that's right. We should practice right now."
I shake my head, "I'm not really in the mood."
"You don't need to be," my dad pushes his tablet more to the side and rests his hands on the table, "let's begin."
"Dad I really-"
"Clove you need the practice," he interrupts.
"I've been training all day, the only thing I want to do is shower and sleep."
"Well that isn't an option at this moment in time."
I narrow my eyes, "I'm not doing this."
"Clove-" he starts but I start to stand up and head to my room, "Clove Rivers, sit down right now and do this with me."
"No." I spit, looking at him from across the room, "I'm sick of never getting a break."
"When you're a career you don't get breaks, Clove."
"Paris gets breaks!"
"Paris isn't as strong as you because of those breaks."
I stay quiet a bit, my voice harsh, "Yeah, but she's happy."
My dad taps two fingers together and purses his lips, "What are you trying to say, Clove."
"What I'm saying is that sometimes having a break or being able to relax would be great. Everyone in this district knows I will be the one going into the games and have a high chance of coming home-"
"Because I taught you-"
"Excuse me?" I interrupt, walking towards him.
"I taught-" he starts again but I slam my hands on the table, glaring at him.
"You taught me that life as a kid was meant to be cutting your hands open on knives and staying up so late studying for a test while your best friend is out laughing with her other friends. You taught me that the games are more important than my childhood. You never once showed me how to throw a knife or punch. You never once walked into the training center to guide me. You never once woke up at the crack of dawn to help me do anything, ever. The only thing you've done is constantly suck the life out of me. Constantly drag me into a state of mind where feel like I'll never be good enough. Well, I've had it, dad. I don't train because you want me too, I train because I want to be the best. I want to be ready for myself, not because you want to watch me succeed. Not because you want the fucking bragging rights, but because I want to finally come home, look you in the eyes and say, I did it. I did it all by myself and not once did I need your help." by the end of my speech I'm practically screaming; hands clammy against the table. I don't give my dad time to respond. Instead, I storm out the front door and start running.
My side starts to cramp when I'm ten minutes away from home. Every muscle in my body is screaming as I hunch over a park bench. My cheeks are hot and probably super red, my ponytail is hardly up anymore, and my forehead is drenched in sweat. You would think that a run in the middle of spring would be cool, but instead I feel as though I'm on fire. As I look around the park, I study the surroundings. By our District Statue a couple of young kids are running around laughing, the bench next to them occupied by what looks to be their mothers. To the right of me, a young couple walk hand in hand licking ice cream. That's when my eyes fall on the pizza parlor. I know that Paris is inside because they're seated close to the window. Her long brown hair is in a puffy braid, complimented by one of her signature District One sundresses; she must have stopped home before getting there.
Before I can stop myself I'm walking towards the doors of the parlor, the aroma of pizza fills my nostrils and I hesitate to open the door, knowing the smell will grow more pungent. I look around the place first, a group of students I recognize are seated in the corner, papers sprawled out everywhere. When I look over at Paris, she's already standing in front of me, arms crossed, a small glare on her face.
"What are you doing here?" she hisses.
I look at her for a bit before responding, "I was just running around and thought I'd stop by."
"Well you should probably continue that run."
"Are you really that mad at me, Paris?" It's my turn to cross my arms.
"Yes, I am."
"Why? I was just being honest with you. You told me to always be hon-"
"What you said was rude and uncalled for, Clove. I'm your best friend. If you had a problem with something, you could've approached the situation a bit better."
My eyes narrow at her comment, "You pissed me off and I let you have it, there's nothing wrong with that."
"You were a bitch."
"I'm always a bitch."
"Yeah, but this time you weren't funny or cute about it."
"I wasn't trying to be, Paris. I had a stressful day and I just want this whole situation to be dropped. Can I please-"
"I think you should go," she interrupts. My mouth is still agape when she speaks and I blink at her.
"Alright," I mutter, "fine."
"Bye."
I nod and slowly turn around, dropping my arms and walking towards the door. Before I exit, I can hear Paris laugh and it stings.
I spend the rest of the day roaming around the District until a peacekeeper stops to tell me curfew is in place. Inside my home after I walk through the front door, my mom is laying on the couch, the lamp on the dimmest setting next to her. She's got on a white lab coat and matching white sneakers, glasses still on. I walk over and slowly pull them off her face and set them aside, then lay a blanket across the frail woman and head to my room.
When I wake up the next morning still in my previous outfit from the other day I groan. My legs are sore from my run yesterday and my shoulder is stiff from throwing.
"I'm leaving at 7:30 again so be ready!" my dad yells at my shut door.
I sigh and begin to stand up, my toes cold against the hardwood floor. When I walk into the bathroom I start the shower then take a look at myself in the mirror. My nose is still bruised, but it's healing, which is good. As the mirror begins to fog I strip down from yesterday's outfit and hop into the shower. The warmth of the water once again soothes my aching muscles and I take a moment to let it all in. After my shower I quickly brush my teeth and fluff hair then slide on a pair of skinny jeans, a plain white shirt with a sports bra, and my dirty white shoes. By the time I'm out in the living room it's 7:24, only because I woke up at 6:30 today.
My dad ignores me the whole drive to school and when I walk into the classroom he doesn't bother asking if I want any coffee like he usually does, so I head to my locker and eventually see Paris; slowly walking up to her.
"Hey," I approach. She glances at me before shoving a book into her locker, "Are we really going to continue doing-"
"Hey Cato!" She beams, closing her locker and walking around me. I stand there, hands holding the straps of my backpack, before turning to look at the tall blonde next to her. His eyes are already on me when we make eye contact so I shoot him a look and hurry off to class before he decides to open his mouth.
When I walk into class I sit in my normal spot, and when Paris walks in, she looks shocked when Cato plops down in her normal spot behind me. I glance over my shoulder at Cato before leaning back in my desk reading the blackboard.
Apparently my dad has an announcement, but it's probably just going to be him bickering about how I called him out last night.
Per usual, he walks in holding his coffee mug at the bell and sets it down on his old black desk; turning to face us with too big of a smile, "Good morning, before we get to the announcement, I'm going to be handing out your quizzes from Monday."
Behind me, Cato accidentally kicks the desk's leg and I turn around to look at him then without thinking I talk to him, "How do you think you did?"
He tilts his head, probably just as confused as I am by our conversation, "Probably failed."
You did.
I shrug, then turn back to face the front. A few moments later my dad hands me my quiz and I don't bother checking the grade since I already know what I got. Cato groans behind me, so I figure he knows about his disappointment.
"Alright," my dad leans back on his desk and pushes his glasses up on his nose, "I have an exciting announcement to tell you all."
Taking a deep breath, I lean my head back, but as I do I feel someone messing with my hair so I look back at Cato who gives me a small look, "What?"
"You're hair is all over my desk," he mumbles, trying not to get my dad's attention as he talks.
"Sucks," I mock and lean my head back again, this time making sure my hair goes everywhere. Cato exhales annoyed, but my head whips back up when my dad finally says,
"We're going to District Five."