A Waking Nightmare (TNHID Book 2)

Chapter 11

Willow

The train chugs forward and I run to the window hoping to get one last glance at my mom before we pull out of the district. But all I can see is the ocean of reporters. I turn away with disappointment but begin to take note of my surroundings.

The train floor is covered in a soft carpet. I almost want to take my shoes off and walk barefoot. This room alone has two chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. They are considerably smaller than the one in the station, but these look much more expensive.

This is a train that comes straight from the Capitol, of course it is going to be extravagant. But I was unprepared for this level of wealth.

I hear the obnoxious clicking of heels and look for the source of the noise. I see Vesta strutting towards me.

"Hello, Willow." Her voice is far too loud, and I resist the urge to wince. I am tempted to make some snarky remark, but remember that I'm supposed to act like my dad.

"Hi," I say, pretending to be bashful, I look down at the floor and notice that Vesta's shoes are covered in some hideous yellow feathers. They're platformed and the heels look to be about a foot tall. Talk about discomfort.

"Oh, you're so sweet. Come along, your district partner is in the dining car right now. We're going to eat lunch!" I shuffle my feet forward. I may be pushing the timid act a little bit, but even though I'm aloof, I tend to be very blunt. This soft-spokenness is not one of my specialties. I hear my dad's uneven gait behind me, and I am grateful for his company.

I look up as the doors slide open automatically. The table in the middle of the room has a fancy white cloth with small flowers embroidered on the edges. There is yet another chandelier hovering above it, and the chairs are made of dark wood and topped with soft red cushions.

Blaise is sitting near the foot of the table, and I take a seat across from him. My dad settles next to me, meeting my eyes and giving me a reassuring look. The table is empty and there is an awkward silence. All I want to do is ask for food, but I remain silent.

But the wait is worth it. Multiple servants come out carrying about twenty trays of assorted gourmet goods. My mouth waters as I see the golden-brown chicken, tender steak, lamb stew sitting over rice and dried plums, and all sorts of soups. All I want is to try a little bit of everything, but I decide to pace myself. The only problem is that I don't know where to start. My eyes linger over every plate, but I can't choose.

My dad leans over to scoop the lamb stew onto my plate. "Try this one. It was always your mom's favorite thing about the Capitol." I smile because that does sound like my mom. I scoop the meat and rice into my mouth, and resist the urge to roll my eyes back in pleasure. It is the best thing I have ever tasted. I scrape the plate clean in about thirty seconds and reach out for seconds. Who knew Capitol food was so good?

I am so full I feel queasy, and I worry that I may not be able to keep the rich food down. But I am determined.

That is, until they bring out the dessert.

My mouth drops as the smell of chocolate, vanilla, and all sorts of fruit waft in. Even though it hurts to eat more, I manage to try the chocolate cake, vanilla ice cream, and raspberry cordial before I can't fit anymore. I feel someone's gaze on me and see Blaise gawking with his eyes wide open in shock. I guess not everyone eats as much as me. I glare back at him, trying to get him to look away, but he holds my gaze with ease. It surprises me. He seems like the kind of person who would turn away at the slightest eye contact. His jade green eyes don't move at all, and I am the first to avert my eyes once I remember that my dad wouldn't stare.

Maybe Blaise isn't so bad. Anyone comfortable enough to keep extended eye contact with me must not be a total doormat.

But that doesn't mean he has a chance of winning. He'll probably be the first one dead. It wouldn't shock me if he is one of the idiots who sets off the landmine around their podium before the games even start.