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when everyone has finished, and politely excused themselves, i speed after james on his way to his room.
i knock once lightly on his door.
"eve," he breathes out, "alright?"
i nod. "can i come in?" i ask. he nods too, then steps back, opening his door further for me.
i take a slow gait to the centre of his room, before i start rapidly planning how i'm to ask this.
"can i help you win?" i say. that was more abrupt than i'd hoped.
james grins, a smile so wide i'm sure his face is about to snap in half. "you're funny."
"i'm serious!" i say. "why else did you think i volunteered?"
his eyes look to the carpet. "for the same reasons i would've. pride. whatever." he admits. "is it. . . because you want to die?"
"yes. and i happen to know a lot about the hunger games." i say.
james scoffs. "you're not a career."
"no, but i still trained way more than any of the careers would've. my gran made me, just incase i was reaped so i'd win." i say proudly. too proudly for such morbid content.
"you can help, sure. it just depends." he says.
"depends on what?"
"if you're as well trained as you say you are." he says.
"well i'd prove it, but i wanted to stay more quiet about it." i nod.
james wanders to his window. "get a ten, and then i'll believe you."
"i don't have to prove anything. i can just help." i say.
"i don't want your help if you can't prove you won't be a nuisance." he states bluntly.
i shrug. "fine. fine! i'll get a ten." i oblige. i don't particularly want to, but i think it'd be interesting to see how difficult it would be. it'd certainly be unpredictable.
such a slim, seemingly untalented girl, achieving ten out of twelve in the private training sessions with the gamemakers.
ten out of twelve is amazing, they say. i wonder just how amazing the sponsors will think it is.
the next night, i'm swept into a tiny grey room just above the stables in the tributes centre. the stables is where the horses and chariots are, ready to lead us out into the tribute's parade.
the girl and boy from each district will share a chariot, and ride out past every prominent capitol person. everyone and anyone who is important will be there. it's where they display the tributes in all their 'glory'.
that's pretty much just making us look attractive.
for finnick, he was dressed in nothing but a tiny rope skirt, hung from his hips. his whole body was on display, except his literal genitalia. even then, they were almost out.
