Teenage Memories.

Pilot.

Her mother had been yelling at her for a while to get out of bed. That woman clearly didn't understand that the second week of school was already completely annoying, especially during senior year. If it were up to Clove, she wouldn't even show up at all.

She got ready as fast as she could and headed downstairs. Her mother started yelling again because it bothered her that Clove never ate breakfast. Even though her daughter had thrown up on her shoes on a random Tuesday at 7:00 a.m. last month, she remained oblivious to the fact that eating early in the morning wasn't the wisest choice.

Clove ignored her mother's complaints and left the house for school. She could have gotten a ride easily, but no one wanted to drive at those godly hours, so she reluctantly had to walk six goddamn blocks every single day.

The sky was covered with dark clouds, and Clove wasn't going to be surprised if it started raining. With her luck, it was bound to happen. It was five to seven, and there was no way in hell or heaven that she was going to make it to school on time; that meant no literature class for her.

The idea was tempting, but if she was late for school two more times, she would get suspended. She already missed two days and was late three times in the first week of school, Clearly, Clove was breaking records.

She walked into school as if nothing was wrong and noticed vice principal Alma Coin standing by her office door. Clove avoided eye contact and quickly turned into a human speed demon to escape that woman.

"Miss Kentwell!" she exclaimed upon spotting the girl. "Haven't they informed you that classes start at seven sharp?"

Clove couldn't determine if that woman was in a bad mood or if her face naturally looked like she had just sucked on a really bitter lime. She approached the vice principal's office anyway.

"It's ten past seven," Clove defended herself. "Which means I'm ten minutes within the allotted time."

The vice principal's expression turned stern. Clove was aware that if that woman could, she would've already hit her with a stapler, and if Clove could, she'd give her a piece of her mind as well. The vice principal walked to her desk and retrieved a large black agenda, where she recorded Clove's late arrival once again.

"You were late four times and didn't even bother to show up twice this week," the woman announced loudly. "Do you think this is a joke, young lady?"

"Absolutely", Clove thought to herself. At least she showed up—late, but she did—and they should give her points for that. Just as Clove was about to reply with fake politeness, principal Coriolanus Snow passed by the vice principal's office and stayed at the doorway.

"Miss Kentwell," he greeted. "Late again, I can see."

Clove bumped into him on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday last week, approximately half an hour after the start time. He had overlooked everything during the first week, but his patience had run out. He ordered her to follow him to his office, and she did so grudgingly. Upon entering, she saw that two of her so-called friends were also detained for being late. Snow announced that he was going to get his coffee, and then they would talk.

"Clove, Clove, Clove," Cato repeated. "You never learn, right? You're late again?"

"Not really," she replied. "I'm here to have breakfast with the principal; we're best friends."

Cato gave her a hostile look, and she just wrinkled her nose in response.

"I exist too," Marvel grumbled. "But go ahead, act like I'm not here. God knows I am."

He pretended to cry while whining; if it were another person, Clove would've been annoyed to the core, but Marvel was somehow charming, fun, or something that made her not want to murder him. She dropped her backpack on the floor and ruffled his hair with both hands.