HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 3

The fact that Athena had her eyes set on the prize was no secret, and their classmates knew better than to fight her for it: not only was she the most passionate about the subject, she worked the hardest.

While comfortable, the Clicks didn't belong in the same prestigious circle that housed the Golds and Heavensbees. Not nearly. To even remotely consider them as being in the same league was ludicrous to some, all because they were white-collared—their income gained from well-compensating professions rather than generations-old businesses.

In its history, Athena's paternal side had produced a variety of technological experts, from hovercraft architects to missile engineers to muttation scientists. Likewise, her father held a relatively senior position at the Capitol's defense agency, heading the design of battleships. Her mother, who hailed from a long line of doctors, was presently a leading surgeon with Capitol Hospital. Both families' dedicated services during the war had elevated their social statuses, and having climbed far in their respective careers, Athena's parents garnered some measure of personal influence. Still, it had been Satyria's efforts and connections that finally got Athena through the gates of the Academy.

Nothing should be taken for granted, because nothing was guaranteed—that was how Athena had been taught growing up. When all was said and done, the Clicks didn't have a dynasty to fall back on, a virtually limitless inheritance awaiting them. Everything they had, they'd earned, and Athena had to, too.

She was the only one of the trio who took up summer jobs, not because she needed the extra allowance—though she took pleasure in it—but to feel what it was like to actually do something for oneself. An opportunity Lilith's and Olympia's parents had denied them outright, not that anyone in the Capitol in their right minds dared to hire them, in any case.

Now, Athena attended the University on a full ride, and one provided by the grandest academic endowments in the land no less. Besting north of a hundred candidates, she was the fifth recipient of the President's Scholarship, an elusive bursary that was awarded annually, and to only one incoming undergraduate freshman. If there had been any skeptics, they'd been won over by her industriousness: the earnestness with which she regarded learning, the hours she was willing to devote to make up for talent.

All of the above were still more accentuated in Gamemaking. Truly, if nothing else, there was no one more deserving of the apprenticeship.

"He'll pick her," said Lilith confidently. Then she snatched the brow pencil from Olympia's fingers as she was switching to the brushed end. "C'mon, that's enough bitchy. Let's go."

The beauty tool in her hand as bait, Lilith strode off. Olympia's tone was laced with false disgust as her traipsing footsteps followed.

"You are a saucy thing today, little girl."

Lilith cocked back her head, stuck out her tongue playfully, and then she was flying down the hall, giggling—like a little girl indeed.

Such silly antics were Olympia's ultimate pet peeve, the incongruence with her image and all that. She used to smack Lilith whenever it happened, as if hoping that one day the childish spirit might finally be slapped out of her. But even if the spanks that were nothing worse than good-natured hadn't been indication, the way she never failed to smile afterward was evidence enough that the ginger appreciated at least some of that youthful energy in her life.

Her "punishments" weren't imposed as religiously these days, with dirty looks being the usual substitute, but when Lilith had a head start—especially when Lilith had a head start—all notions of attack were abandoned. Extremely fleet-footed, Lilith always topped Professor Sickle's gym class when it came to races. Athena and Olympia had long since accepted that they were better off channeling their resources elsewhere than to try and chase her down. If Lilith didn't want be to be caught, she wouldn't be.