The 74th Hunger Games.

Training, day 1.

Next update! So this is still Lola's POV, if it changes, I will put it in or start the chapter off with whatever the name is and 'POV'. So if I don't state the POV, it is the same as the last POV used.
Last order of business is that I have to dedicate this chapter and probably the whole book to KrystalGroves. I tend to post a chapter and then forget about it or decide to do something else, so KrystalGroves has kept me writing. ;-) Keep being wonderful.

***

I listen to Atala talk about training. Though I digest her words, I am ready to get to training. The longer I have to practice with weapons, the better I'll get, the better my chances.

We are released, and I try my hand at archery. The less said, the better. To put it mildly, I fail miserably.

Ruling that out, I move on to crossbows. I am pleasantly surprised to find that I can at least hit the target. With a little more practice, I find myself getting more and more comfortable with it. I go as far as to say that I enjoy it (though never in my life did I think I would say I enjoyed using a weapon).

After forty-five minutes, I move on to swords. I hate it. I don't spend two minutes with this.

Then I try throwing knives. I pick up one of the smaller ones, balance it in my palm. Take the correct stance. And repeat this five times in a row. Then start moving around to throw from different positions and angels. And every time, the little knives bury hilt deep in the center. Some even ricochet off of knives already in the center and fly off, little reflections from the sun hitting the knife casting explosions of light on the walls. I spend the same amount of time with these as I did the crossbows. I smile, not because I can throw the blades with accuracy, but because it felt right. Which erases the smile from my face. Has the Capital already changed me so?

After the remaining hours of training and me bouncing around at other weapons stations, I decide that knives or small blades and crossbows are my strong suit. I actually enjoy using them, much to my disgust, and am confidant that I can hit someone where I want to (also to my disgust).

If I can get my hands on any of those weapons in the arena it would be a blessing, but I don't plan on sticking around at the bloodbath. Training ends shortly after.

I go back to district Twelve's level and to my room and change. At dinner, Katniss asks us how training went. Chase nods at me to go first.

"Well, I discovered that I like crossbows and throwing knives," I say.

"That's good," Hatmitch nods. "There's pretty much bound to be some sort of little knife-like weapon at the cornucopia. Not sure about a crossbow, but hey, it wouldn't be impossible. And what about you?" he waves his fork at Chase.

"Swords," he simply says.

To stop the conversation from getting weired based on Chase's lack of dialogue, I add in some of my own.
"I tried the swords and really disliked them. I don't know what it was about them, maybe they didn't balance well or something."

Chase looks somewhat surprised that I came to his defence, but nods. "I prefer the balance of a sword over that of a knife. It might have something to do with that I'm a lot bigger that you," he inquires.

"Height and body build really affect your ability to use some weapons," Katniss says.

After that, dinner quiets down and we finished with little more talk besides more of Effie's and the teams gossip. Shortly after we finish, Haymitch, Cinna and Katniss go to bed, leaving me and Chase with Effie and the prep teams. If you can count on Effie for anything, it's an endless supply of random gossip and things you don't have any need for knowing. I don't think Effie can believe that some people just don't care about this stuff. Me and Chase find somewhere dark and quiet to sit, pressed against a glass window overlooking the Capitol. I must admit, at night, it's beautiful. The city shines with light and still life, even past 9:30 at night.

"I prefer it at night," I say to Chase.

"Same. What's your reason?" he asks.

"I don't know." I sigh. "Maybe it's just that the night seems to make it less vibrante and 'go go go'. It almost seems calm now, compared to day."

He nods. "I get it. I might seem like I'm a jerk for saying this, but I can hardly remember Twelve anymore. How simple it was, how quiet. I miss it and at the same time, I don't."

"Yeah."

We lapse into comfortable silence for a few minutes, me leaning my head against the glass and my back against a pillar behind me. His legs rest against mine, keeping me warm, a sharp contrast to the frosty stone.

"Why did you defend me at dinner?" he asks.

"Well, I could see it on your face that you were uncomfortable. It's pretty easy to tell that you can be shy, it's just that Effie doesn't notice these things."

He nods. "Well thank you."

"No problem."

A thought then occurs to me.

"Do you have a token?" I ask. He nods. "Would you mind if I asked?" I ask.

"It's a picture of my girlfriend back home. It's simple, just a glossy little black and white rectangle with her on it, but it keeps me grounded." I nod, knowing what it's like to feel grounded. "Do you?"

"A necklace from my best friend. The charm is a rectangle of rose gold with tiny diamonds forming a water lily. I don't know the significance of the lily, but it reminds me of Isabelle, of home. And there's a Spanish engraving on it, which I also don't know the significance of," I say.

"She didn't sell it?" he asks.

"No. Her aunt gave it to her, she was born in Twelve but a Peacekeeper found out about her needlework and was as passionate about it as her. He sent her to One and now she lives in luxury. I know the woman is important to Isabelle, but I hate her. She has enough money to pay Isabelle, Darrel and her own sister, Ruby up to Three, but she leaves them in Twelve, thinking little gifts will suffice. That necklace would keep them from starving, but even that won't buy them to Eleven." I explain.

He nods, having actually listened to the whole thing. What he says is completely off topic, but a question he actually wants the answer for, not just a line for conversation.

"What do you miss about Twelve?"

I hum as I think. "The peace. Isabelle. My family. Especially my brothers, Scott and Dominic are like my rocks. They get me. They are the sensible ones. They keep me from flying off the handle, from going crazy. I miss knowing everyone near me. I miss my little house, our goat Joanne, my dog Keeta, knowing what the weather will be like, I miss my district." As I finish I break off into sobs. Chase comforts me as I cry, holding my the way my brothers used to hold me when I was sick or hurt. Eventually, I calm down. He gently strokes my hair, hugging me.

"Sorry," I whisper.

In response, he kisses my forehead. I close my eyes and lean against his shoulder.

"What does your girlfriend look like?"

"Short," he starts, giving a little loving laugh, "black hair, really long, she hardly cuts it, grey eyes, she can find good and beauty in anything."

"What's her name?"

"Emmica."

"I like that name." He just smiles. I know I had seen her around the town sometimes, and as I think of it, I had seen the two of them together around Twelve, her tucked under his arm and both with bright smiles on their faces. She was beautiful, could be a model. Her black hair was always blowing in the wind, and if she even caught a glimpse of him, she would light up like a Christmas tree.

The click of heels becomes audible, and Effie's bow-adorned heels appear, carrying Effie.

"Well, it's off to bed. Pip pip. Good nights sleep."

We obediently get up, and he hugs me at my room.

"Goodnight Lola."

I smile up at him. "Night Chase."