"Clove! Heads up!" Cato, acting like a drunk mad man, swipes the head off a dummy.
I laugh and stab the dummy in the heart. "He's dead." I smirk. This is how our life is. It's good. Life is good.
The Buffet has rearranged everything. In one room, a little boy is having a birthday party, planning. He's probably no older than eight, and will probably volunteer in ten years to be in The Hunger Games. I am planning on volunteering this year, but I haven't told anybody; especially Cato. Then he would try to stop me, and then where would we be?
Cato sticks his sword in another dummy's throat. We look so stupid, slicing heads off dummies. But we're a team, a stupid, slicy team.
"You try." Cato says.
I launch my knife and it hits the dummy right in the heart, right where I wanted. I take my other knife and hit the dummy in the eye. See? Knife Girl. That's what they call me at school. School....dammit!
"Cato! We have school!" I shout.
"Crap!" We leave our knives and swords right where we were and run to the front of the building, exiting quickly. We run home and grab our backpacks. I ride on Cato's motorcycle and we pull into the parking lot; two hours late.
We walk into the office and see the pinched face secretary, Ms. Fuu.
"Miss McHeal... Mr. Jordans...why are you two late?" She demands.
"We were training..Promise." I say.
"Mmhm. Can I have a written pass from your trainer?" Ms. Fuu says.
"We don't have one." Cato says.
"From parents?"
We shake our heads no.
"Okay. Well, since this is the fifth time this month, you have a one-week suspension. You all will be responsible for any make up work." Ms. Fuu says.
"But..the reaping is in a week!" I say.
"Well then, I guess we'll just see." She purses her lip and waves us away. "Bye bye, now."
Whoop. De. Do.
