Knives and Swords

Chapter 3

Clove 

I immediately jump back from Cato as the intruder makes themselves known.

"Who would've thought cute little Clover could show so much emotion? And kiss a boy!" The girl jeered. Her name was Hallie and we hated each other with a burning passion. It all stemmed from this one incident in primary school when Hallie cut a chunk of my hair off, and I proceeded to punch her in the face. I didn't even know why she was in the training center because she never showed much affinity for the Games. Probably looking for Cato, a treacherous voice in the back of my head said. It was a well known fact that Cato and Hallie were, once upon a time, more than friends, if you catch my drift. They were both extremely popular, which should come as no surprise, with Cato's talent, and Hallie's-I didn't think she had very many skills-but probably sleeping around would be one. 

"What is it to you?" I sneer back at her.

"What do you want Hallie? I thought I made it clear when I said I didn't want you." Cato cut in, interrupting our stare off. Hallie turned red, and spun towards the door. 

"Watch your backs" She hissed over her shoulder as she retreated.

Cato held a small smirk of victory on his face, and returned his attention to me. "Where were we?" He asked flirtatiously.

Despite how much I hated Hallie, I appreciated her intervention. "No, I'm sorry Cato, we can't do this. I don't want you to go into the Games with the burden of knowing I'm waiting for you." I sucked in a breath as I saw Cato's eyes harden. 

"Fine." He spoke crossly. And soon enough, Cato was gone leaving me alone in the gym once more. Perhaps it's time to go home I told myself. 

~~~~~~~~~

When I get home, what do I see except for a broken bottle of some sort of alcohol. I sigh and pick it up knowing that my father must be drinking again. I place it in the trash can, searching for any more shards that he could hurt himself on in his drunken state. I've come to expect the sour stench of liquor. Ever since my mother passed away from cancer he's been like this. He buries himself in work, desperate to forget my mother, and when he gets home and finds more memories, he drinks his way through the pain. I can't blame him though because I find my ways to cope too. But sometimes I weep for the father he once was, holding me in his arms, helping me train, taking me to the bakery for my birthday cake.

I enter the living room and sigh with relief when I see him passed out on the couch. But it's not for the reasons you'd expect. My father is not an angry drunk, nor does he hit me. Instead, he cries a lot and thinks my mother is still alive. I almost wish it were the former sometimes. 

After I step out of the scalding water of the shower, a big luxury for some districts, I dry myself off. I simply put on a worn t-shirt and shorts and head to my bed to fall asleep. Unfortunately, today is not a day where I will fall asleep easily. I lay in my bed plagued by thoughts of Cato. Despite my attempts to ward off Cato, I cannot help but think that if he does like me, my actions are not going to be enough to rebuke his crush. Therefore, I must stop it before it becomes a weakness for the both of us. 

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The next morning I awake to a clear head and a final decision upon my...dilemma. I am immediately glad that I do not have school today. I normally would, but because of the trainer's certainty that I would be going into the Games, I am allowed a certain numbers of days off of school to train a month. Even though I have no classes with Cato being a year younger, I think it is best to err on the side of caution. I throw on some simple workout leggings and maroon tank top, and grab my training bag. As I arrive at the Center I see a familiar blonde boy. Just my luck... I think, suddenly upset. It is too late to head to school, so I decide to grit my teeth and stick today out. It shouldn't be that hard considering I will not talk to him. 

I was wrong. It is extremely hard to ignore Cato. When I walked into the building, I heard Cato shout a greeting at me, but kept my focus on the doors and simply gave a terse nod. For the rest of the day, Cato pestered me, trying to get me to tell him what was wrong. I tried to keep on my best I-don't-care-you're-irrelevant look, but when he asked for the 2456th time, I snapped. I sent one of my knives whistling through the air, landing mere millimeters from his skull. He didn't try to talk to me again today. Regardless, I didn't miss the hurt look that flashed across his face every time I ignored him. The only thing that kept me going was my own mantra within my head, after the Quarter Quell you can be with him.

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Yay another one down! Some more Clato, some more less. But do not worry, there's bound to be way more action, dialogue and backstory on these characters. If you'd leave your thoughts, that be wonderful and much appreciated. Thanks for reading. Also today I was talking to a girl about Clato and she said that she was more of a Glato shipper and I'm not even joking, I told her to go die in a hole. I feel pretty bad now because we are close friends, but then she started talking about how they would be cute because they look alike, so their kids would be cuter. I shut her up with Cato didn't care when Glimmer died and was heartbroken when Clove did. She is now a Clato shipper. 

xoxo-Ellie