Strictly Prohibited ➳ THE HUNGER GAMES ✔️

|12| Uncertainty Is The Most Stressful Feeling

Chapter 12 x

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Storm's POV

I sit curled in a ball on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor with my knees clutched to my chest. This can't be happening. This can't be real. I'm scared and I'm shaking. I think I might throw up again. How is this possible? Well, of course, I know how it's possible. I'm not stupid enough to completely dismiss human reproduction. I stare down at the positive test curled in my fingers. Pregnant. I am pregnant. My world is spinning.

It hasn't happened often. Only twice more since the first time. I didn't think that three times was enough, but I guess that proves how ignorant I am. I want to shake Gloss. I want him to tell me how he feels, to say something. But he assures me that there's nothing romantic between us, nothing at all. Cashmere says otherwise. I don't know if it's to comfort me, or if she's speaking a truth that not even Gloss will acknowledge.

How am I meant to be a mother to a child who barely even has a father? Will I even keep it? The idea of getting rid of it repulses me, but I also can't stomach the thought of what Gloss would think if I told him. I can't anyway. I'm only two months in, I still have some time to make my decision. I take a deep, calming breath. I have to be an adult about this. I'm twenty-one now, definitely not a child. It's my own fault that I'm pregnant, so I have to deal with it now. My own little secret. I almost laugh at that.

The reaping for the Quell is only days away now. Cashmere and Gloss have been training hard, even though there's every chance that they won't be going back into the Games. I try and calm myself with that knowledge, but it's useless. There's a storm raging within me and there's nothing to stop it. I remember Hyperion's veiled threats. He's going to do something, I just know it. He can't hurt me, not without arousing suspicion, but the Victors from 1 are another story completely.

I am the escort for District 1. No matter whose names I pull from those bowls, the blame will rest squarely on my shoulders. I want to scream out; I want to tell them all that it's not my fault, that someone has to be picked. But then I remember Gloss's hatred of everything Capitolian. Does that hatred sweep through all of District 1, a simmering resentment they disguise? Will Gloss's hatred extend to the baby growing inside me, a child that's just as much his as it is mine?

I can't possibly tell him. He would look at me with disgust, assure me that I could have done something to prevent it. It's possible I could have. But I was an innocent. I didn't know anything about sex until he taught me. I'm not blaming him. I don't blame anyone. All I know is that my pregnancy would distance us even more if he knew. I've come so close now and I don't want to give that up.

I push myself to my feet, ignoring how my knees shake. I dump the pregnancy test in the bin, after swathing it in toilet paper first. I don't need anyone else to see my shame. It's enough that I know. I wash my hands and rake my hair back, staring at my reflection. She isn't a confident, proud Capitolian escort. She is a scared little girl, definitely not ready to be a mother. Will I, or won't I?

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It's the night before the reaping, and everyone is dreading tomorrow. Cashmere offers me wine but I silently refuse. She raises her eyebrows and I profess a headache. Gloss is sprawled across the opposite couch, indifferent. I glance at him and can't help but wonder what sort of father he would be. I can't imagine he would make a very good one. Cashmere sits beside me, a concerned expression on her face as she swills her glass.

"What's the matter?" she demands. Sometimes, Cashmere is far too perceptive for her own good.

"Just tomorrow," I murmur, which isn't exactly a lie. "I have to draw the names out, Cash. It's me they're going to look at with accusation. I'm the Capitol's messenger according to them. The messenger always gets shot."