A Knife in the Dark | ✓

Thirteen

Cato's tray thudded against the table next to me. Black smudges were under his eyes and his hair was a mess, and he hadn't shaved in a day or two, but other than that, he seemed completely normal. Shocking, because he'd had another Breaking the night before. "I'm so sick of people asking about the Games." He mumbled, running and hand through his hair. Saylee reached over and snuck a blueberry off of his plate. I knew that he noticed, and I knew that he didn't care, either.

"Get used to it." Clove said. "It's all they'll want to hear about when you win."

"If."

She paused mid-chew. "What?"

"If I win, not when."

Saylee's fork clattered to the tray. Jake's eyebrows shot up. "You don't think you can win?"

"No, I know I can win." Cato said. He ate another forkful of the salad on his plate before continuing. "It's not a matter of can I win. It's a matter of will I want to."

"You're not making sense." Clove said. "Cato, you do know that not winning the Games means dying, right?"

I looked up. "He means he's thinking about dying."

Saylee, Clove, and Jake froze. Cato inhaled, stiffened a little, then let the tension leak from his shoulders slowly. "It would be easier." He said quietly. "Let someone else do it. Eat something poisonous. It would be easiest to end things that way."

"Not for everyone else." Saylee hissed. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but there are people here that need you, Cato." She took her tray and stood, storming away.

Cato looked like he'd been hit between the eyes. It was like her reaction wasn't processing in his mind, like he and Saylee hadn't been raised together almost since they were born. Like he didn't know that she thought of him as the older brother she never had.

I knew that Cato needed me, but I wanted to make sure that Saylee was okay. I started to stand. "I'll go check on her." I said. Clove looked at me and nodded, just barely, not enough for Jake or Cato to notice. She said nothing, but I knew that she was silently saying that she'd handle the boys.

Saylee's tray was discarded at a trashcan by the doors leading to the school hallway. I pushed through the heavy double doors and looked up and down the hall, but there was no sign of my friend. I went left, ducking through halls and past classrooms, until I reached an abandoned one in the school's west wing. It was an old chemistry lab.

Saylee was perched on the table closest to the door, in the second row, her boot-clad feet resting on the edge of the table in front of her. She was staring at the blackboard, with its chalky smudges and patchy formulas scrawled over it.

I stuffed my hands in my front pockets and waited. It was how we did things. It was a while before she opened her mouth.

"How are you totally calm right now?" She demanded suddenly. "Doesn't this freak you out? Aren't you worried? Aren't you terrified? How are you okay right now?" She turned to look at me. "Wait a minute, did you know about this?" She said it like an accusation.

I shrugged. "Kind of. I know what goes on in his head. It's not much of a surprise to me." I didn't want to walk into the room or get any closer. Saylee was never very good with keeping her emotions in check, especially when she got angry or upset. "Saylee, you've got to understand that he's gone through a lot in his life. He's suffered for years, and to him, there's no end. He doesn't understand that he's more than what they've tried to make him into. I think he's just sick of fighting."

"That doesn't mean he can just give up. We need him. How doesn't he get that?" She sniffled and rubbed at the skin beneath her eyes, and I knew it was safe. The anger had subsided. I slowly entered the room and took a seat on the table in front of her, sitting my feet on a chair.

"He does." I assured her. "I think that's why he's been hanging on for so long. Look, it's been bad, but honestly? I'm not sure he's getting better. They're hard on him, but not as hard as he is on himself. He can get away from the trainers and the Breaking, but he'll never escape himself."

She drew her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around herself and didn't speak for a while. "I don't want to lose him." She admitted at last. It was a cautious confession, like she was afraid that I'd see her as weak. "He's the closest thing to a brother that I've ever had. I've known him since I was in diapers. He's always been there for me. He's family, you know?"

"I know." I said. "But sometimes...sometimes family leaves. Sometimes people die, or walk away, or you just grow apart. But that doesn't mean that they aren't still family."

"Do you think he'll do it?" She asked. "Do you think he'll let himself lose?"

My head was full of memories of him--him kissing me on his porch, saying that he wanted a simpler life than the one he led. That time we stayed up all night, sitting on my roof, and talked for hours about the lives we wanted after we won the Games. Christmases, District Days, Reaping Days--they were all there, flashing in front of me. And there were others, too, things yet to happen--his wedding, his house, his first child and all the brightly colored books and toys he would give them.

"I don't know," I finally replied. "I just...he has so much potential to be so much more than just another of the fallen tributes. I just can't see those Games actually killing him." That was the problem with people like Cato. Even if they died, they were never really gone. They left some kind of mark that lasted, one that echoed through time. Maybe that was why I had been so calm when he said that he'd consider ending it in the Games--because people like Cato don't die. They can't die. They're too constant and too solid and too real to possibly be ripped from this world with little more than the blast of a cannon and a dead body left behind.

"This doesn't seem real," she said, resting her cheek against her knees. "I feel like I'm going to wake up on the floor again with a massive headache."

I giggled. "That happens often?"

"Every time I have a nightmare." She sighed and dropped her legs, feet hitting the floor. "I guess I should talk to him, huh?"

"Probably." I said. "I don't think he could quite figure out why you were so upset. I guess he was expecting us all to just say okay and move on like it's not a big deal."

She shook her head, clenching a fist and slamming it into her open palm. "Man, I'm going to beat the shit out of that boy."

I laughed. "You have fun with that. Make sure you let me know before you do so I can watch and so Clove can make popcorn."

"And so you two can restrain Jake? You know how much he likes to play mediator."

"Of course." I said, standing up and dusting off the back of my jeans. "We need to keep him out of the way."

Saylee linked her arm in mine and started out of the room. "It pays to have friends that enjoy watching people get beat up as much as I enjoy beating people up."