Needing the Impossible (A Clato Fanfic)

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Cato's POV

District 2 is a chaotic mass of confusion this morning. Vendors are out, trying to take advantage of the “holiday” spirit. Wealthy families splurge out of satisfaction in the security that comes with knowing your child's name is only in the reaping bowl a handful of times. Parents of Careers spend more money than they have, blinded by the hope that their child will be the next to bring honor to District 2. Impoverished families slink along the edges of street, trying to make it to the square without being noticed.

I calmly watch this mass of confusion from the second-story window of my bedroom. If only they knew just how powerful this year's District 2 tribute was going to be. “Cato!” my father's voice interrupts my thoughts. “Get down here now,” he commands. “You're mother is anxious to leave.” I turn slowly away from my view of the chaos, only to walk straight into it moments later.

My mother, looking uncharacteristically happy, takes my arm as we enter the throng of people. Father is to her left, and our servant girl, Viola, follows meekly behind us. As we begin to pass some of the nicer vending booths, Mother looks up at me, “For your reaping gift, what do you want?” I shrug. Eternal glory will be more than enough, though I know she'll insist on getting me something. “It's your big day,” she persist. “Pick anything you like,” she implores, gazing up at me with unmistakable pride. In the social scene she has known all her life, mothering a male tribute is the ultimate success for a woman.

Her adoration pulls my lips into a smile, but I again shrug, not really desiring anything material at the moment. Mother purses her lips, displeased by my seeming lack of gratitude. She looks truly pathetic. Standing at only 5' 2”, the pout completes her look of total vulnerability. I sigh, and, giving into her wishes, request something small I can take into the arena as a token. This erases the pout, and she immediately sends Viola to go find something suitable. Mother almost never shops herself, which, I must confess, takes away most of the sentimental value of her gifts. I've tried to explain this to her before, but quite frankly, she's too rich and proud to see anything but the monetary value in presents.

As we wait for Viola to return with my reaping gift, we wander around the market place. Mother is making some snide comment about some of the hand-made ware when Titanius, one of the overseers at the training facility, walks up to us. “It's going to be an exciting year for District 2,” he says loudly, clapping a giant hand across my shoulder.

“It certainly will be,” agrees my father coolly, somewhat perturbed by Tatinius's lack of propriety. My mother loses her hold on my arm and retreats to my father, clearly disturbed by the man's rough appearance.

Apparently, he finds this as comical as I do and gives a course laugh before turning his attention back to me. “I've been talking with some of the other trainers, Cato,” he says in a lower voice. “They admire your dedication and, naturally, your skill.” He looks me squarely in the eye. “You're their top pick,” he says seriously. My eyebrows lift slightly. Technically, what the trainers think of me doesn't matter, as I'm volunteering anyway. But this will make everything so much easier. It's not uncommon for the male Careers to try to show each other up by volunteering after another has already stepped forward. Once word gets around that I'm top pick, no one will try to replace me as tribute out of fear of angering the trainers and higher officials of our District.

“Of course, that doesn't guarantee anything,” he adds. He has to say this, since the entire Career system is technically against the rules of the Games. I nod in agreement, still surprised that while they wouldn't train me, they still chose me as the favored Career. “It was a slightly harder decision with the girls. Not as much promise this year,” he begins. But I don't hear anymore because at that moment, I notice a small, catlike girl hiding in the shadows nearby. Long, dark, silky hair that is usually pulled up in a tight bun is now flowing down nearly to her waist. Her gaze meets mine, and I watch as Clove slowly disappears into the shadows. Had she been watching us? And if so, how long? The thought of her watching my movements annoys me. We haven't spoken since the night of the attack, and a mutual hate has developed between the two of us. So why would she be creeping around and practically stalking me on the day of the reaping?