Gladiators -- Clato

-Glimmer-

The next day, I wake up early for training, only to find my outfit has already been laid out for me on my wardrobe. I look it over scrutinizingly. It's a short sleeved red-gray-and-white shirt, with leggings made of the same fabric and color. It's light, and clings tightly to me like a wetsuit. The number "2" is emblazoned on my shoulder.

I feel self conscious as I look in the mirror. It's not exactly flattering. It makes my nonexistent chest look even more unimpressive.

I think back to Cato and I last night, and bite my lip. Although he seemed so genuine, all I can think about is if it's just a possible strategy for him to win the games.

After all, it's not like I've got anything he wants. I've seen the girls he chases after back in two. Silky hair, curvy figure, shimmering eyes like jewels. Not short brunettes with quarry-stone eyes and a body like a 12 year old.

But I banish the thought from my mind quickly. This is the goddamn Hunger Games, and definitely not the time to worry about some stupid boy. I leave my room and grab a breakfast roll from the table, not bothering to say good morning to Brutus or Enobaria, and head straight to the elevator and down to the training center.

I'm one of the first people down there. There are a couple stragglers, like the two from District Three. nerds. The boy is halfheartedly training with a spear while the girl watches him listlessly. There's someone else here, a girl with red hair. She's from one of the middle districts, which I don't pay much heed to. she glances at me out of the corner of her eye, and I ignore her. She may not see me as a threat yet, but in a matter of days she will fear me as much as anyone else.

The next people I know to come down are Marvel and Glimmer. Marvel waves to me in a friendly way, and I smirk back at him confidently. Glimmer, to my surprise, comes up to me and starts fiddling with my hair.

"You did this yourself, didn't you," she clicks, yanking the ponytail I fashioned out of my hair. "You know, you have beautiful hair. so long and shiny. Do you want me to style it for you?"

I'm surprised by her kindness, but swat her hand away. "I don't like people touching my hair," I growl.

Glimmer huffs impatiently. "Fine. but you know, the Capitol likes their tributes pretty..."

"Alright," I mumble lowly.

"What was that?"

"I said alright!" I exclaim. It comes out a bit too loud and a couple heads turn. Glimmer laughs and ignores it, beginning to work on my hair.

In the end, she separates some parts of it into low braids, and weaves them into a ponytail. The way she does it, it almost looks like a veil. I run my hand through my smooth ponytail, and Glimmer smiles slyly. "What did I tell you? you're like, the most gorgeous twelve year old ever!"

This last remark annoys me and I glare at her. she shrugs.

Cato finally arrives, and I can't ignore the way Glimmer's eyes immediately snap to him. she says good morning brightly and sidles up to him, touching his shoulder. The moment her painted nails brush his skin I feel a sharp pang of anger, and I want to stick a knife in her face. instead, I stalk away from the two, to one of the Capitol-designed programs to test your skills. The trainer at the station nods at me, presses a button, and the walls open up to reveal a throwing range with many targets.

I feel the calmness the moment the knife enters my hand. But calmness comes with bloodlust. I flick my wrist and the first knife enters the first target perfectly. With a bit more effort, I aim for the second target and the blade lodges into the middle. Finally, I pull out my last knife and hurl it straight into the heart of the third target. I stand, panting, looking at my work. I imagine the targets as dead tributes, and I feel more assured that Ican win these games.

I look back, and notice the fear on the faces of the other tributes. The pair from twelve have arrived, without me noticing, and the girl stares at me through wide gray eyes. I narrow my eyes at her and she looks away. good. let her be scared of me.

Cato is watching as well. His grin seems to tell me "good job." But I'm still mad at him after he showed all that attention to Glimmer.

I rejoin the other Careers and Marvel nods at me, looking impressed.

"Knives suit you as a weapon," the gangly boy says. "They don't teach knives in One."

"They don't?" I ask.

"Nah. I mean, unless you have a great talent in them that you learned yourself. I'm good with spears. wanna see?"

"Sure," I shrug. I glance at Cato. he's watching Marvel tersely. good, let him be jealous. taste of his own medicine. I only look at him for a moment longer before Glimmer practically throws herself on top of him. I shake my head and look away.

Marvel notices me looking. He gives me a questioning look. "You don't seem to like Glimmer much," he muses.

"I don't know. what's she good at anyway?"

Marvel snorts. "She's half-decent with a bow. nothing impressive though, trust me." He grabs a long spear from  the rack and readies himself in front of a target, about fifty feet from it. I watch in quiet admiration as he sends the thing flying straight into the target's center.

I nod to him. He smiles back, and then points to something to our right. It's Glimmer, pulling back the bowstring and preparing to shoot. She releases, and misses the heart of the dummy by an amazing four inches.

I share a look with Marvel and we both struggle not to laugh. I'm glad I have someone else to nag on Glimmer to.

"Cato, did you see that?" Glimmer asks excitedly to the District 2 tribute beside her.

"That was great, Glim," he praises her, and puts a hand on her shoulder.

Glim? I think indignantly. Glim??!? What the hell is this? just yesterday, he confessed his feelings to me, and now he's cozying up to some other girl? I feel dissent in my stomach.

I stalk over to Cato and beckon him. He follows me to the edge of the training floor and opens his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up.

"Are you fucking with me?" I spit. "What the hell was that? with Glimmer? you're using nicknames now?"

"Clove, it's not like that," he defends, obviously angered by my accusation. "It's-"

"I don't care what it is. you can't just-" I sigh irritatedly. "why did you even do that last night if you're just going to get with her?"

"It's a fucking strategy, Clove," he hissed, teeth bared. "that's all it is,"

"A strategy, huh?" I bark. "Is that what I am, too?"

"God," Cato runs a hand through his golden hair. "I meant what I said last night. Glimmer's for the sponsors, nothing more."

"Does she know that?" I ask scathingly.

He says nothing, just looks away and avoids my eyes. His arms are crossed. "I don't know why the hell i even said anything last night," he mutters.
this statement gets me. Although I'm embarrassed that I actually care, I bristle in rage.

"You're a piece of shit, Cato," I seethe. I can feel my blood boil, and I clench my fists.

"Hate me all you want. That won't mean anything when I win," he growls.