★★★
THUNK.
THE GIRL FROM TWO throws very well.
Thunk.
Forget "very well". She doesn't miss a single throw.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
That spin was a little dramatic, but it does add to her appeal. Three bull's-eyes in a row. I wonder if I'll be her next target in the arena.
Thunk.
"You're staring, hon."
I startle and turn to see the blonde from One (Glimmer Belcourt, I think) standing a little too close to comfort. I stutter. "Um, I was just..."
Glimmer crosses her arms and smirks. "Ogling Two's little darling? Yeah, that's what you were doing."
A small frown tugs at my lips. I've been caught in the act. "I was only observing my fellow tribute," I say stiffly, standing up from my crouch at the edible plants station. Plants are an alien thing to me, having grown up in the technology district. "I'd like to find out more about my potential killers, if you will."
To my surprise, Glimmer laughs. "Well, aren't you bright."
There it is again. You're a bright one, aren't you? The brightest girl in Panem. Well aren't you bright.
Glimmer leans casually against the wall, crossing her long legs in front of her. She is even more gorgeous up close, her perfect, pretty features relaxed in an easy smile. She's tall and beautiful, golden-haired and sparkling-eyed. "Am I intimidating you, Three?"
I shake my head quickly. "No."
She chuckles. "Did you know attraction is another form of intimidation?"
At that, I blush again. "What do you mean?" What's she implying? That I'm attracted to her? Or to Clove?
She leans in close, too close. I can smell her perfume, something flowery. "I mean, attraction can be dangerous." Glimmer practically purrs out the last word, her voice dropping to something dark and smooth as silk. "Be careful, Three. Stay away from Clove if you don't want a knife in your back. Or slicing up that pretty throat." She reaches out a finger and traces the lines of my neck. I swallow. Her eyes glint.
Glimmer winks, and then she's pulling away, pushing off the wall and sauntering over to the bows section where she strings an arrow and starts hitting targets. I blink a few times, then get to my feet and walk over to the snares area. Finally, something I'm actually good at.
The snares instructor recognizes the years of experience in my fingers and immediately assigns me more complicated snares to rig. I'm just finishing up one that will leave an opponent dangling from their feet in the air when I feel someone's eyes on me and spin around. Clove.
"Setting some traps, Three?"
I blink a few times, slightly stunned. Why would she be here, at the mostly-empty snare station, when she could be throwing more knives and winning over the Gamemakers? "Yes," I manage to say in a scratchy voice. I clear my throat. "What of it?"
Clove smirks. "Just saying. You won't stand a chance in the arena if you can't fight."
I surprise myself by narrowing my eyes and standing, easily towering over her with my height. "Who said I can't fight? Maybe I'm saving the best for that arena."
Clove steps back, as surprised as I am by my posture. She recovers quickly with a sneer, but not before I catch that flash of something I can't identify in her eyes. "Or maybe you just can't fight, District Three. You may be," she motions in my general direction with an air of disgust, "freakishly tall, but that doesn't mean a thing."
Freakishly tall? I can't help but laugh. I must stand at least a head and a half above her. Clove's fast twists in anger, and I get the feeling she's itching to punch me in the face.
"Why are you here?" I ask, laughter ebbing.
Clove stares at me. "Why am I... here?"
"I mean, why are you talking to me?"
She blinks. "Well, uh, I..." For once, she seems at a loss for words, before snarling and retreating like a wounded animal. "I don't have to explain myself to you," she spits. "Just stay out of my way, Three."
With that, she's gone, left to throw knives in a fury. I look around to see more than a few tributes watching us, the tension still hanging thick in the air. Trying to shrug it off, I resume making snares, though I can't help the residual fear still lingering around me. I don't want Clove as an enemy.
★★★
When training is over, Gavin and I return to our district floor. The tributes are still leery around each other, which means we won't run into Clove outside of the Training Center, something that leaves me relieved but somewhat disappointed. There's something magnetic about her presence, some deadly, fury-driven power that I want to see more of.
You'll be seeing plenty of it in the arena when she's trying to kill you, I think to myself. Clove couldn't have made her threat more clear. She has something against me, and I wrack my brain to try and figure out what that is.
"What did you two do today?" asks Beetee as soon as Gavin and I are seated at the table. Wiress and Bacchus are here as well, Bacchus primping in front of a floor-length mirror and Wiress sitting on the floor tinkering with some kind of device. I spend a few minutes too many peering at it and miss the first half of what Gavin's saying.
"... And I learned how to start a fire," he finishes, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth. "Ivy, did you see what happened with Peeta and the Careers?"
I blink, my attention veering away from Wiress, who seems far away from the world at this moment. "Sorry, what? Peeta?"
"Yeah, he fell off the ropes today. Didn't you see?"
"Oh. No, I don't think I did." To be honest, the whole session is kind of a blur by now. The only thing that really sticks out clearly is my confrontation with Clove. "What happened?"
Gavin proceeds to give us an animated retelling of how Peeta fell from the climbing ropes, got eyed by the Careers, and threw a giant metal thing at a row of spears. It sounds fairly impressive, but all I can focus on is the bright sparkle in his youthful eyes and think about how unfair it is that he will be sent to die in a week.
"Ivy, what did you do in training today?" I realize Beetee is speaking to me and refocus back on the conversation.
"I learned a few snares," I recall. "Dropped by the edible plants area for a bit. Nothing too extra, but I think it was helpful."
"Snares." Beetee nods. "That's District Three's specialty."
"I'm not that great with building things, though." I fidget with my hands, a nervous tic of mine. "I've always been good at fixing things, but not creating."
"Good." I jump. Wiress has moved to stand beside me. "That's good." She pats me on the shoulder with a toothy grin. "Fixes things! The girl fixes things." She nods, almost to herself. "Very bright."
I smile, a little confused. But I can sense the warmth behind her words, and feel comforted. "Thank you, Wiress."
Wiress smiles happily, giving my ribbon a gentle caress before wandering off to do who knows what, muttering to herself.
The next day is somewhat of a blur. Clove continually shoots glares at me from across the room, but doesn't approach me again. Glimmer looks at me too, but in a more open, interested way, like I'm some curious new thing she wants to inspect. All I know is that they both want to rip me apart.
As for the other Careers, the girl from Four is very quiet, but makes her alliance with the Career pack pretty clear. I think her name is Dana. And her male counterpart, the twelve-year-old named Perch—he's definitely not in their gang. I feel bad for him, the same way I feel bad for Gavin and the little girl from Eleven.
I keep to myself for the rest of the session. Tomorrow will be our private sessions with the Gamemakers, and I am absolutely not ready. The other tributes have filed out of the training center already, with me left to my own devices sitting against a wall, brain working furiously. Capitol security is watching my every move.
Then the doors swing open with some massive force, and Clove is storming inside, gritting her teeth. She immediately makes a beeline for the knife throwing station, grabbing a set of knives and slamming the button for the targets to light up. I watch, enraptured, as she sinks the blades into each bullseye one by one.
Finally, she turns and wipes the sweat from her brow. It's just us and the few guards in here; the Gamemakers have gone from their viewing balcony. She lifts an eyebrow. "What are you looking at, Three?"
"What's the matter?" I ask instead. "You look mad."
Clove laughs humorlessly. "I'm always mad."
"That must be tiring."
"My anger is a weapon," she shoots back, and the line sounds almost robotic, like it's an instinct for those words to leave her mouth. "Why are you still here?"
"I needed time to think," I reply vaguely. "What happened to you?"
"None of your business." Clove spins and throws the last knife into the target dummy's head.
I shrug. "I'm just curious."
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't stick your stupid nose in places where it doesn't belong." Clove rubs her bare arms, looking off to the side and grumbling incoherently. I try to imagine being Clove, growing up in Two, having all this power in a flick of the wrist. What could have happened to her?
"But what's the matter?"
Clove throws her hands in the air, frustrated. "What is it with you and your inability to be a bitch?"
"Isn't... Isn't that a good thing?"
Clove glares venomously. With me sitting against the wall and her standing, she's taller than me, but not by much. "Not when you're hanging around with our gang."
"Oh." I think for a moment, then add, "That doesn't sound pleasant."
"We aren't trained for pleasantries."
I remember that Clove Kentwell is a Career Tribute. One of the tributes who have spent years training in a special Academy in preparation for the games, to volunteer and bring glory to their district. I look her over. "I thought Careers mostly volunteered at sixteen. Aren't you younger?"
"Fifteen and three-quarters, thank you very much," she bites back, and I have to hold down my smile. Even though she will probably kill me in the next week, this banter feels light. Fun, even.
Then she draws herself up with a fresh glare, and I reevaluate her. The emotional walls she has up seem taller than she is, and I know I will be in for a challenge.
But why do I want to take this challenge?
We stare at each other for a charged moment before Clove spins on her heel and strides out the door, as explosive as her entrance.
Because I just do.
★★★
The day passes in a blur, and before I know it, morning comes. Gavin and I are given a quick breakfast of fresh bread and cheese dip before getting whisked down to the training center. I manage to sneak a chocolate before we leave. These Capitol chocolates are all unique, each with a different filling. I bite into mine. Hazelnut. Something bitter. Coffee, probably.
All twenty-four tributes are sat in a room separate from the center, where we are to be called in by district. One goes first, followed by Two. Clove gives me an unreadable look when it's her turn. Then Gavin goes, Three. It seems like barely moments until he's done, and my name is called through the speakers. Ivy, District Three.
It's my turn.
★★★
a/n when you're lowkey simping for glimmer while writing a clove fic 😳👌