"Now Juliet, just because your mentor is not here doesn't mean you can lose your focus. Pay attention or you'll go out there looking like a bumbling idiot!" Hilda scolded me once again as my attention drifted from the vibrant woman in front of me. I hadn't seen Luke all day; In fact, none of us have. I guess he was back to his old way of ignoring me and hoping everything would work out.
But Luke was the least of my problems at the moment. Right now I was pulling on my uncomfortable dress, silently cursing Nimmo. He had once again put me in a stunning gold number, sticking with his claimed inspiration of District 9's "golden grain fields". Unfortunately, this dress was even tighter around my midsection than the last, cinching in at my waist and making it difficult to take a deep breath. The neckline dipped a little low for my liking, but at least the length flowed all the way down the floor, pooling around my ankles and dragging behind me.
I mumbled in response to Hilda, making a snide comment about the high heels I was forced into. The dress completely covered the shoes anyway, but I guess she thought I needed a few inches of extra height. Hilda shook her head at me before walking away, mumbling about how I was 'a lost cause'. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead made my way over to Laurette and Hank, who were stationed right behind Atlas.
"Oh, wow. You're going to blind me with that thing." Laurette teased, eyeing my outfit up and down. I groaned, putting my head in my hands.
"I know, it's so bad." I whined, jealous of Laurette's lavender dress and wavy hair. I felt my own hair, which for once fell down my shoulders in thick, bouncy curls instead of its natural wavy mess.
Laurette shook her head, disagreeing. "No, you look great. I promise."
I flashed her smile before I was sent back to my spot in line. I stepped into the empty spot in front of Atlas, ignoring his creepy stare and facing forward as the lights dimmed. We stood in the dark for a minute as Caesar walked out on stage, cheers erupting through the crowd.
"Be careful what you say out there, Julsey. Only nice things about me, I hope." I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt Atlas' hot breath on my ear, the tips of his fingers resting on my bare shoulder. Before I had a chance to respond, we were quickly ushered out onto the stage and into our predestined chairs.
"Hello and welcome, Panem! I hope you're all doing wonderful! Who's excited to meet this year's tributes?" Caesar smoothed back his silver gray hair and flashed his pearly whites at the screaming crowd. The District One female was called up to the stage.
Her long, sleek red hair bounced as she flounced up to the stage in a short, sparkly silver number. "Hello Caeser, I'm so happy to be here!" Layla giggled, flipping her hair behind her shoulder and winking at the audience.
I zoned out for the beginning of her interview, which consisted mostly of giggling and praising Panem. It wasn't until the end of the interview that Caesar asked about something interesting.
"So, Layla, let's talk about your training score of seven. What do you think of your score?"
The corner of her mouth twitched, as if she was annoyed at the question. "My score doesn't give enough of a representation of what I plan to do in the arena. That being said, I'm proud of my score." She had lost her ditsy attitude and was serious for once. Clearly, he had struck a nerve.
"There were a few tributes from the outer districts that matched your score or had a higher score than you. I think everyone was expecting you to have a higher score than most. I suppose you have more to show than what can be judged during a training session. Am I right?" The crowd began to cheer, showing their love for Layla.
Layla turned in her seat, glaring at the row of tributes behind her. Her gaze lingered on mine, causing me to look away quickly. With my head turned to the left, I watched as Moe met her gaze head on, glaring back with a quiet smugness about her.
"Don't worry, Caesar. I'll be sure to pay extra attention to those tributes, especially the twerps from Three and Nine," She sneered, her beautiful face twisted into a scowl. "I'd like to see either of them beat me in a one on one fight." The crowd cheered her on, causing my stomach to drop. I look down at the ground, hoping to calm the flush that reached my cheeks.
Her buzzer went off, signaling the end of her interview and the beginning of Cliff's.
Layla's district partner was basically an unresponsive, unemotional machine. He didn't even flinch as Caesar mentioned that he had the lowest training score of all the Careers. It was surprising that he didn't try to play the crowd at all, or even take a mysterious approach to his interview. I wasn't sure how strong he would be in the arena, but I didn't think he would have many sponsors. I tried to think back to the Reapings, wondering why he had bothered to volunteer. He didn't seem like someone who had trained their entire lives for this moment, like most of the Careers did.
The 15-year-old from District 2 was another crowd favorite. She was tough and loud, and took the capital by storm. They admired her bluntness and sheer will power to crush every tribute in the room. I did not.
Her District partner wasn't much better, and I just didn't understand the mindset of being excited to fight to the death.
Moe's interview was interesting. I hadn't had much time to talk to her, but she was very fierce and intelligent, which was an interesting combination for a thirteen year old. She reminded me so much of my sister Kit, and I was hoping I wouldn't come across her in the arena. I didn't want to see where she got her score of nine from.
Her District partner barely got a word out and earned no sympathy from the crowd. They taunted and teased as the poor, nervous boy stuttered and played with his glasses. I was disgusted by myself for feeling nothing but relief that there was one less contender for the title of victor.
Essie had the best interview by far, and I wasn't surprised in the slightest. She was the biggest threat in the arena, not only for her physical abilities but for her strategic mind. I wouldn't say she was the most intelligent, but she definitely was the cleverest. Her interview was short and simple, but she said all the right things to intimidate the tributes in a sweet and caring way that had the crowd rooting for her. Her District partner Gordon's interview fell flat compared to Essie's, but he was strong, handsome, and sure to receive some sponsors.
The little twelve-year-old from Five had the hearts of everyone in Panem. Still, there was something odd about her that I wasn't too keen on finding out.
Before I knew it, the boy from District 8 was finishing up his interview and I was being called to the stage.
"Hello, Caesar." I spoke politely, thanking him for his compliment on my outfit and hair. I silently thanked Nimmo, even though it was nearly impossible to breathe deeply enough to calm my nerves. For the first half of the interview we spoke mainly of my time in the Capitol, and I was grateful for the opportunity to win over the crowd with compliments. He then began asking about my family, making me slightly emotional and causing me to lose most of my confidence.
"Juliet, what is your family like at home?" He inquired, leaning forward in his seat and cocking an eyebrow.
"Well, I have two very loving parents and a wonderful younger sister. I'm not sure what I would do without them, and I can't imagine what I would do if it was me at home watching my sister's interview." I bit my lip, holding back the tears as the crowed murmured sympathetically. I felt the urge to stand up and scream about how heartless they were, but I contained myself from making that fatal mistake.
He inquired more about my family before asking the dreaded question that the Capitol seemed most interested in. "Any romances we should be aware of?" He winked at the crowd, drawing a cheer from them. I was sure my face was tomato red, but I answered as honestly as I could.
"It's complicated. I mean..." I trailed off, covering my mouth with my hand and earning a chuckle from Caesar as well as the crowd.
"Care to tell us more?" I hesitated for a second, then decided it would help me get more sponsors as long as I didn't reveal too much or put anyone specific at risk.
"I have a best friend," I chose my words carefully, "and I'm not exactly sure where we stand. But I guess it doesn't matter, since I don't think we can ever be together." My voice cracked accidentally but I held my head high, hoping the crowd would eat it up.
"I'm sure that this lucky man back in District 9 is missing you greatly." Caesar sympathized, patting my knee and pursing his lip.
"Something like that." I smiled sweetly, knowing better then to correct Caesar and say that he was not, in fact, back in District 9, but right here in the capital.
"So, does this mean nothing is going on with your stunning District partner? All of Panem is dying to know!" A clip of Atlas and I during the chariot ride was played on a screen behind us, showing Atlas with his arm around my waist, pulling me close.
I couldn't help the sour expression on my face, and I knew I would be getting in trouble with Hilda later.
"I can assure you, there is nothing going on between my district partner and I." I tried not to laugh at the outrageous statement, thankful to clear that up before Atlas had a chance to lie to the audience. I was tempted to say more, but I didn't think it would do me any favors to bash my district partner right before entering the arena.
My buzzer sounded and I thanked Caesar for his time before sitting back down in my seat, bracing myself for the egomaniac's interview. Atlas got up from his chair, the crowd cheering even louder as he blew a kiss into the audience and shook Caesars hand.
"I see you received a very good score, Atlas." Caesar commented as the noise eventually died down. "Care to enlighten us as to what when on with your training session?"
"Ah, but you'll just have to wait and see, Caesar. That goes for all of you too." Atlas gestured at the audience, making the ladies swoon. I rolled my eyes wondering how they couldn't see the psychotic glint in his eye. He seemed confident that he would win, but there was much more to it than that. From the moment we shook hands back in District 9, I could tell that he would have no trouble harming any of the tributes, including myself. He seemed to enjoy preying on those weaker than him. Atlas loved to catch me off guard, gaining pleasure from my uncomfortableness. Although I should have been expecting it, once again, he managed to shock me with the rest of his interview.
"I assume you'll be saying the same as Juliet? That there is nothing between you two?" Caesar leaned forward, eyebrows raised.
"If I said that, I would be lying." Atlas smirked, glancing in my direction. My stomach dropped at his words. Where was he going with this? He then twisted his face into a more upset expression, pouting his lip at the audience.
"Of course, I expected her to deny it. I felt that we were getting really close before our time in the arena, but I found out she was becoming close to some of the other male tributes as well, like the one from Ten. She really had me fooled." He sighed as the audience gasped at his bold claim.
I gripped the side of my chair, my knuckles turning white. He basically called me a slut in front of all of Panem! How would anyone believe me if it was my word against his?
Caesar clicked his tongue in fake sympathy and disbelief after he recovered from his initial shock.
But Atlas wasn't finished, and he continued on, playing the bitter ex-lover extremely well. "I wouldn't be surprised if she had something going on with our mentor too." He spoke sourly, taking it way too far. How could the crowd believe him as he bashed their beloved victor? By the faces of the other tributes, I could tell they had the same thoughts. What was his ploy here? I had no doubt that I would have lost sponsors if I had said anything bad about Atlas, but he was able to spin this in a way that gained him sympathy. I looked out into the front of the crowd where the mentors and previous victors sat. Barrick was grimacing as he watched Atlas, making me feel slightly better knowing that he wasn't in on the plan either. Luke's arms were crossed, his face completely blank. He used to be easy to read, but by now he's had plenty of practice in keeping his emotions hidden.
The rest of Atlas' interview consisted of charming the pants off the audience and having light hearted dialogue with Caesar. My mind still reeling, I zoned out for the rest of the interviews, including Laurette's and Hank's. I predicted that Laurette would be good at capturing the audience, while Hank would have some trouble considering his more reserved personality.
Once the interviews concluded, I rushed off the stage and into the nearest bathroom where I gagged over the toilet. It didn't even matter what Atlas said about me anymore, we would be on our own by tomorrow morning. I wouldn't have my family, Luke, Barrick, or even Hilda to help guide me. It wasn't even the thought of death that scared me. It was the loneliness, the fear, and the pain that I would have to endure.
The door to the bathroom swung open and the sound of heels clicking got louder until it stopped right behind me. "Come on, dear. You need to get rest before tomorrow." Hilda's voice was strangely quiet, lacking its usual shrillness. As if in a dream, I allowed her to guide me up to the 9th floor. Barrick was lounging on the couch, some sort of bottle in his hand.
"Where's Luke?" I questioned, hoping I would see him one last time.
"He had business to attend to." Barrick muttered drunkenly, not bothering to look up at me.
Tears pooled in my eyes and I shrugged off Hilda's touch, entering my room for the last time. I wrapped myself tightly in the covers, letting the tears finally fall and carry me off to sleep.
--
Silence. That's all I heard throughout the hallway as I was ushered toward the hovercraft. I had only been awake for an hour, but it was all a blur as I let Hilda and my prep team guide me to my death. I touched my forehead, wondering if I had imagined the soft kiss that was placed to my head in the middle of the night. I wondered what might have happened if I had been awake when Luke had come home.
"Juliet!" As if on cue, his voice called my name.
"What are you doing? Are you even allowed to be here?" I squeaked in surprise, taken aback by his sudden entrance.
He placed his hands on my shoulders breathing heavily as if he had run the entire length of the hallway.
"I needed to talk to you before you got on that hovercraft. Just remember everything I've told you. And whatever you do, please just don't run right into the Cornucopia. It's too dangerous. A-and, just, be careful and don't make any stupid decisions." He hesitated, shaking my shoulders as he tried to give me last minute advice.
"Luke, shut up. Why did you need to tell me everything I already know?"
"I just needed to make sure I said everything." He whispered, hesitating as if there was something more to say. I held his gaze, urging him on with my eyes, but I was roughly yanked away by a peacekeeper.
"Keep moving, we're on a schedule here." His gruff hands spun me around, ushering me into the hovercraft.
Silence descended again once we were all strapped in, not even a quiet hum that signaled we were in flight. The tributes were placed against the wall, each facing their own District partner. I sat facing Atlas, next to a shaking girl from District 8 and Laurette. I looked around, making eye contact with an angry looking girl with a Six etched on her chest. She gave me a slight nod and I nodded back, feeling a strange sense of rebellion at the comradery.
My arm was slightly sore where the tracker was planted deeply into my skin. I craned my neck to try to reach eye contact with either Moe or Hank, but it was too dark to see clearly. A few hours into the flight, the windows to the hovercraft closed over, putting the tributes in darkness and alerting us that we were nearing our destination.
After another half an hour I felt the hovercraft beginning to descend. The pale blonde from Six lifted her head in alarm, her angry face disappearing and fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. I smiled sympathetically at her, wishing I could somehow comfort her. But how can I comfort someone who will most likely be dead in a few days?
Soon, I felt a jolt and knew we had stopped. It was hard to tell whether we were still floating in the air or on land, but when a peacekeeper entered the room, my suspicious were confirmed. We were each unstrapped from our seats and led down separate hallways.
Nimmo entered the room where I waited. I sighed, holding my hand out for my arena outfit. He looked unusually somber, placing a folded stack in my hands. I pulled the suit on over my body, marveling at the thin, flexible, dark grey material that fit like a second skin. I stretched my arms, examining the suit. It seemed as if it was made for many different types of things. It looked water resistant and durable, and the long sleeves and high neckline shielded my skin from what I guessed would be a harsh sun. The only issues with the suit are that it wouldn't keep in heat very well and would not be good for camouflage.
"Good luck, Juliet. You were a pleasure to have, dear." Nimmo sighed, probably just disappointed that his masterpieces would go to waste after my death. I shook my head in disbelief before settling down on the hard metal chair, waiting for a signal to stand in the tube and be taken up to the arena.
"Attention tributes, five minutes until the beginning of the 73rd Hunger Games." I hadn't even realized I was shaking until then. I tried to be brave, but I couldn't keep up the tough girl act any longer.
"Do your worst, kid." Nimmo patted me awkwardly on the shoulder and exited, leaving me alone in the slightly chilly room. I stood up, trying to calm my shaking figure by pacing back and forth.
"Attention tributes. One minute until the beginning of the 73rd Hunger Games. Please enter your tube."
With quivering hands, I took slow steps toward the tube. I hesitantly placed one foot into the entrance, wondering what would happen if a tribute refused to enter it. Instant death, probably. I decided I might as well try to extend my life as long as possible, so I put my other foot into the tube as well.
As soon as my entire body was in, the entrance was sealed and all sound was blocked. The plate began to rise, bringing me up to the dreaded arena.
Flashes of my life before I was reaped played in my mind. I fingered the dainty locket Kit had gifted me, only filling me with more dread instead of comforting me with thoughts of home.
I began to imagine the way I would die. I was hoping it would be somewhat painless, but the chances of that were slim. Perhaps I would be mauled by some sort of a mutation, or maybe brutally stabbed by a Career. I suppose the way you go doesn't necessarily matter. It all ends in the same result.
I looked up, only to be met with harsh sunlight as the skylight opened above me. With a final click, the metal plate beneath me locked into place.
Caught off guard by the bright sun, I tried to focus as an unknown loud speaker counted down from thirty. My eyes blinked a few times, adjusting to the change in brightness.
I knew my face was probably on the television screen of all of Panem, but that thought was pushed to the back of my mind as I was finally able to squint through the light and take in my surroundings.
May the odds be ever in my favor.