the way things go [s. plinth]

i

"The female tribute for District Two will be," said the mayor, unfolding the slip of paper from the bowl. He barely glanced at the name before reciting one. "Ophelia Vellum."

No. Absolutely not, thought Sejanus Plinth. His father must have planned this. He must have bribed the mayor into calling Ophelia's name. To teach Sejanus a lesson: he could never return to District Two.

It was Sejanus's final year at the Academy. He'd endured ten years of bullying in this hellhole at the hands of his classmates. And it was finally almost over. The top twenty-four students in his class had been assigned one more project before their graduation. Each would be assigned a tribute to mentor for the tenth annual Hunger Games. The Academy student would prepare their tribute for an interview the night before the Games began. When Sejanus had been assigned to the girl from District Two, he knew there would be a chance he knew the tribute, but he didn't expect it to be her.

Sejanus watched in horror as his childhood best friend carefully ascended the stage. Under other circumstances, Sejanus would have thought she looked beautiful. She wore a simple white dress, tiny purple flowers woven into her light brown hair. Though her stature was small, Ophelia exuded confidence, giving her the illusion of being much taller. The only features that betrayed her poise were her grey eyes, which were wide with fear. She looked like a lamb dressed for slaughter.

"Are you okay?" asked Coriolanus Snow.

Sejanus flinched. He realized he'd been clenching his hands into tight fists, the knuckles turning white. He tried to relax.

"I'm fine," he whispered back.

"You know that girl," whispered Coriolanus.

"No I don't," lied Sejanus.

"She's small," observed Coriolanus. "Not sure how she'll hold up in the arena."

"She's fast," said Sejanus before he could stop himself.

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow at his classmate. "So you do know her."

"Forget I said anything," said Sejanus.

The mayor, Sejanus couldn't even acknowledge him as Ophelia's father anymore, reached into the other bowl to announce the male tribute.

Sejanus didn't even flinch when Marcus Flint, one of Sejanus's former classmates, was called. The only person on his mind was Ophelia.

Even after the reapings at the other districts concluded, as Sejanus went to find lunch, he couldn't help thinking of Ophelia Vellum. She'd been everything to him during the war. Their fathers had been friends since they were young. Mayor Vellum must have been easy for Sejanus's father to bribe. Sejanus had been devastated to leave Ophelia behind. It had been nice to know she was alive, but in finding this out, her life had been turned into a great unknown. Sejanus hoped Ophelia was alright. Did she remember him? Would she hate him for leaving her in District Two? Sejanus knew the old Ophelia didn't have an ounce of hate in her body. But that was ten years ago. How much had the girl he'd had a crush on changed since he'd last seen her at the meadow?

...

"Ophelia Vellum," said the mayor.

All eyes were on her. The mayor's daughter. A few gasps sounded from the silent crowd. No one had anticipated this. Everyone had assumed that Ophelia would be exempt from the Reaping. How could a man recite his child's name for the Hunger Games?

Ophelia forced her feet to move. She counted her steps as she walked to the stage erected before the Justice Building of District Two. She had been standing at the front with the other eighteen-year-old girls. One. Two. Three. There weren't many steps to take. On her thirtieth step, she reached the stairs to the stage. Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three.