TWO

Chapter Eleven

Two months.

Two months until the blades of my knives meet the body of another human being instead of a plastic dummy.

The idea makes my skin crawl, but at the same time a wave of excitement floods through me. I'd finally be able to prove to everyone that I am capable of surviving the games.

Right now, my head is rested on the lap of Cato, whose looking forwards listing off the names of a bunch of edible plants. If you would have told me a month ago that we'd be friends, I would have laughed in your face. My feet dangle off the side of my bed, while his feet touch the ground on the front of my bed. My house is quiet, until the knock on my bedroom door interrupts the blonde boy. We both turn to look at Paris and Marcus who walk in carrying their book bags. Marcus looks at Cato and I for a bit before setting his book bag on the desk next to my door.

"Clover," Marcus smiles walking over to me. I sit up and accept the kiss on the cheek from him; after all, we've been dating for a month.

Paris grabs her notebook from her bag and walks over next to Cato, who scoots over to make room. I crawl more onto my bed and rest my head against my wall, feet pressing to Cato's back. He shoots me a look over my shoulder and I flash a smirk. Marcus crawls up next to me with his laptop and opens it. A word document is filled with notes and highlighted text for our group project my dad assigned us in class last week. We're supposed to be going over some rare plant, but because I'm his daughter, we finished the project two days after receiving it.

Marcus minimizes the document and pulls up the internet browser. The capitol's logo pops up and reminds us to use the internet safely and that they are "watching".

"What dress are you wearing to the ceremony?" Paris asks, leaning back. Her eyes roll upwards to look at me. I bring my toes over and ruffle her hair, which makes her flush in a small fit and sit up.

"I probably won't go," I sigh. Marcus glances up at me then looks back at the video he pulled up. He's studying for his communications paper by watching past tributes talk in their interviews with Caesar Flickerman. My stomach turns at the introduction sound.

Two months.

"Why won't you go? I thought kids our age were required to show up." Paris sits up now and sits criss cross-applesauce on my bed facing me.

"In case you haven't noticed, dressing up is not something I enjoy."

"But if it's required you kind of have too," Cato chirps in. He turns around as well and rests back on his elbows. His feet kick mine out-of-the-way so he covers half the bed.

"You just wanna see me in a dress, Rauls." I smirk and Cato gives me a look.

"No," he chuckles, "But I bet Marcus does."

Marcus looks up from the video he pauses and chuckles, "You're not wrong there."

"Why are you watching that?" I ask. My voice kinda snips and the room grows tense. Cato shuffles in his spot.

"Uh," Marcus rests a hand on his laptop and slowly brings the screen down, "Just to study."

"Sorry," I mumble. Marcus reaches his hand towards mine and squeezes a bit in reassurance. Paris stands up and walks over to my closet.

"If you're looking for a dress, you won't find one." I call out, watching her. Her eyes meet mine before pushing open my closet door.

"You have to have something in here." She quickly shuffles through the dull colored clothing and huffs. The only dresses I have are probably too small for me now, since I only wore them to reapings. Paris comes across the one I wore to our first double date, but it's not fancy enough to wear to the ceremony.