Born to Die (Clato Fanfic)

Chapter 6

"Remember to use all your body weight!" Cato shouted as I drove the sword into the target. 

I gritted my teeth as I fought the urge to plunge the sword into him. 

"Slash, and drive! Not drive and slash!" He yelled for probably the seventh time. 

Another reaping had come and gone, and I was getting closer to my chance at victory. Which unfortunately meant I would have to start expanding my skills, for real this time. Lena was recently reaped for the games, and well she died, knife to the back. I didn't shed a single tear. I might have actually thrown a mini celebration. Anyways, ever since she left, Cato's posse started to break apart. Remus started training with a guy named Sciron, and Victor just hovered around any group he could find. This meant that Cato would have to do his bullying alone.

Well, ever since his friends left, he hadn't stopped bugging me. I wasn't really sure why. He could have stalked anyone, but he choose me.

Why God, Why me? 

 Everyday, no matter where I went, he would follow. If I went to throw spears, he'd be correcting my every move. In the obstacle course, he'd make sure to make the exact moves I did. He would even tell me to sit up straighter during lunch. Man, I was sick of it. He was sixteen, and I was practically counting down the days until his graduation. Which made me fourteen. Just four more years, until I was out of here as well. 

"Keep your arms steady!" He yelled breaking up my thoughts. 

"I am," I hissed. "I don't need you to keep telling me what to do!" 

He chuckled softly to himself. "Well obviously you do because you're stepping with the wrong foot." 

"I don't care! I'm fine!" I shouted, slashing off both of the dummies arms. 

He reached across to grab a hold of one of my arms. 

"Don't touch me!" 

"I'm just trying to help you!"

"I don't need your help!" 

"Why? Because you think knives are just an automatic pass to success!? Well sorry to break it to you, but they're not!" 

I could feel my face heating up, as the rest of the gym quieted. I slammed the sword down on the ground, feeling the clattering vibration in my head. "Well at least I can throw knives! " As soon, as I said it I knew it was a mistake. 

I saw the color disappear from his face. Cato, knew how do everything. He was perfect in the instructors eyes, but I was the only one who knew his throwing sucked.  Like as in, you shouldn't be in the same room as him when he's throwing. He opened his mouth to say something back, but instead stomped over to the other side of the gym. I should have been happy, I hated him didn't I? He was sitting at the knot tying station, red as a tomato trying to wiggle his large finger through the loops. Cato never went to that station, he always said there was no point. I couldn't help feeling a twist of guilt in my stomach. 

I took a deep breath, and decided to go and talk to him. Maybe I could persuade him to stop coaching me. Slowly, I trudged over trying to think of something to say. 

"Hey," I said awkwardly. 

"Go away Clove," he spat, not looking up. 

I did not want him to hate me, more than he already did. "I'm sorry."

"Good."

"I shouldn't have said that." I muttered taking a seat next to him. 

"No, you shouldn't have." He still wouldn't look at me. 

"I was just tired of you telling me what to do." 

He stayed quiet, pretending to be interested in a snare knot. 

"Why do you pick on me? Is it because of that fight a few years ago?" I asked glancing at my name scratched into the skin on the side of his neck. I felt a shiver go through my body.

"Picking on you?"

"Well yeah, you're always yelling at me."

"Clove, you're so stupid." 

I clenched my fists, angrily. 

So now you're insulting me.

" I'm helping you. I want you to get better. If I die, I want you to know how to defend yourself in the arena. In the future," he said still avoiding eye contact. 

Okay, not what I was expecting. 

"Why me?" I said trying to keep my voice calm. 

He shrugged. "I like spending time with you."

I didn't know what to say. Here I was thinking he hated me, when really he just liked spending time with me? I remained silent, trying to come up with anything to change the topic. 

"I feel responsible for you," he continued, "Every since I," he chocked, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'd never hurt someone before, not really. When I knocked you out and saw you laying in your own blood, I hated myself. It wasn't even a fair fight." He wouldn't stop looking at me now, and I wished he would focus his attention back on the knots.

"I'm fine now,"

"That's not the point! The point is I hurt you when it wasn't even a fair match."

"Well," I mumbled tracing my name on his neck.

"It's fine now." 

"I know, I know." 

He ran his fingers through his hair, and took a deep breath. "So go, I won't bother you anymore."

"No, I just didn't realize you wanted to help," I said forcing a small smile. " You're the best one here, I should be honored you want to help me." 

"Yes, you should," he said with a laugh. 

"I can help you with knives," I offered.

He jumped up jerking me up with him. He was standing so close to me, I could feel my back digging into the wall. "Really?" 

"Sure," I said barely able to breathe. 

Then he leaned in close to me, and before I even knew what was happening he was kissing me. My eyes flickered shut in surprise, and I could tell he had probably kissed a lot of girls. It was a brief moment, but it still knocked the air out of me.

"This should be fun," he said with a smirk, and headed off toward the knives, leaving me breathless. And that, is how the greatest friendship of all time was born.