Defenders of Panem (Being Rewritten)

Chapter 18: Scores

Chapter 18

Jem's POV

After leaving private training, I ride the elevator alone back to my floor. I beeline it into my shower, so I can be clean for dinner. There are so many buttons that I don't even know what scents I mixed together. At least it's not a repulsive smell... I hope. I guess if I do smell repulsive, it's too late now, and everyone can deal with it.

Once dressed, I make my way to Jace's room, see how he's doing. I knock gently, and he answers shortly after.

"Hey Jem." He opens the door wider, and allows me inside.

"Not jumping on the bed today?" I ask, walking further into the room. I take notice of the similarities to mine, but less decorations. I also notice he's changed the window screen to a beach. The whitecaps of the water send a pang of longing through me. How I miss my beach.

I take a seat on the bed. Jace joins me with a chuckle. "No. Not today." We fall into silence, both staring at the digital water. If only the sound and smell of the beach could be recreated too. "What's up, Jem?" He asks, pulling his attention from the screen to my face.

"I was just wondering how training went. What'd you do?" I ask, finally pulling my gaze from the fake water.

A blush begins to creep up his neck to his cheeks. I hide my smile, so the blush doesn't deepen. "Uh, I threw a trident.. I wasn't too bad actually! I even hit the center a few times. I did some snare combinations that could be used for human traps... You?"

"That's good! I threw my knives mostly, and did some hand-to-hand combat. The gamemakers seemed to be pleased, so I think I did okay."

"Nice. Thanks for wishing me luck earlier. I really needed that with how nervous I was."

"You're welcome. C'mon." I nudge him and stand up. "I'm hungry." Jace laughs and follows me down to the dining room. The topic of conversation revolves around training and possibility of scores. I mostly stay quiet, I just hope it's good enough to get the supplies we'll need.

I eat until I feel like I can't move any further. It's a true struggle to get out of my chair to the viewing room where I proceed to plop on the couch next to Jace. I hear him snicker. "Eat a little too much?" He whispers.

"Maybe just a little." The projector turns on by itself with the anthem playing throughout the room. Caesar and his green hair begins his introductions and moves on, with excitement, to the scores.

He begins with District One as per usual. The boy gets a 10, the girl a 9. District Two, Collin 10- no surprise there, the girl 6. Karter 6, the girl 5. Jace ends up with a nine! I give him a smile, and everyone congratulates him. I end up with a 10. My jaw drops. A 10! I nearly shriek. District Five's are lower scores of three and five. District Six's boy scores a six, and Chrystal a 7. Not bad. District Seven boy 8, and the girl 7. District Eight's scores are in the middle with six and five. District Nine's boy receives a 10 and the girl an eight. Dang. District 10 boy eight, the girl seven. District 11. Last district. Meg's district partner scores a 10, and Meg herself scores an 11!

She ends up with a perfect score! It's nearly impossible to score an 11, and hasn't been done since the games restarted. Her mentor has to be over the moon, and the rebels in 13 have to be proud. Leave it to Meg to outscore us all.

Jace and I are dismissed by our mentor after the projector turns off. We walk back to our respective rooms discussing the difficult mix we've been thrown in with. There are some high scores to contend with. I can't help the relief of being on a team and I know Jace shares the sentiment.

We say goodnight and I am worried about the ridiculous outfit I will be shoved into tomorrow for interviews. I'm hoping I don't look too freakish. I'd like to look a little like myself for my last night before the arena.

Meg's POV

11. They gave me an 11. I stay seated, long after the projector turns off and my district partner gets up and leaves. Haymitch stays with me, nursing the same glass of whiskey from dinner. We're the last two in the room now and I still haven't found a way to speak. 11.

"What did you do during training?" Haymitch asks, setting his empty glass on the table in front of him.

I look over at him. "Shot a few arrows and did some hand-to-hand with the offered instructor. Nothing too spectacular to give me an 11. I did enough to get a bow in the arena. Why?" He doesn't say anything, just looks lost in thought. Wait. He doesn't think... "You think I'm being targeted?"

He holds a finger to his mouth and stands. He motions me to follow, and we walk up to the roof. I try to begin speaking again when he waves a hand, telling me to shut up. I follow him to a more open section, where the wind blows more harshly.

"We should be able to talk here. There's cameras everywhere, and they've improved the quality of the picture and the sound capture. But yes, I think you are being targeted."

"What? How!? When?"

"You should know how. You weren't exactly careful on your last mission, they likely caught your face, and when they ran it to facial rec they would know exactly who you were. There was a suspicion this might've happened, but nothing strong enough to issue a warning. The only precautionary measure we were able to put into place was to infiltrate the mentor positions, hence why I am here. We weren't able to get to Collin, but he's an unlikely candidate for rebel ties, so we figured he was safe. He's also smart enough to keep his mouth shut, or so we hope."

I nod, taking in the information. I knew this was too big of a coincidence from the beginning. I just need to find out who, or what betrayed the rest of us. "Do you have any leads as to who burned the rest of us? I'd feel less worried if it was just me in here."

"Can't tell ya kid. Just be careful and keep your head down until we can get out of here."

"Okay, Haymitch." He gives me a sad smile and taps my cheek before returning down to our floor. My stomach is in knots, and I can't shake the feeling of unease that follows me until morning.