Not Just A Game

Chapter 10

Dustin smiles and I imagine my face is a mirror image. We shared our first kiss, sweet and beautiful. He pulls me into a hug with his strong arms.

My head lies still against his chest,eight under his chin, fitting like a puzzle. He smells faintly of wood and wheat,and I smile.

That basically sums up my life in District Twelve, living in the cottage, and eating the small remains of bread baked by Sadie and Willow.

I inhale his scent, trying to imagine being back home in the meadow with Griffin. Watching the forests outside the fence, imagining what it would be like to be outside their bounding grip on our sanity.

He would always make fun of me, when we were little, because of my height. Although he was two years older, therefore much taller,and being a guy, I was still remotely short for my age at the time.

These little thoughts of my childhood and home bring gloomy feelings to my mind.

Will I ever see them again?

Yes, we will. We'll make it home. Griffin, Harley, Dustin and I. They'll protect me.

We'll protect each other.

The sun is still high in the sky. It's only about noon. I decide to spend it in possibly the last bit of relaxation before training starts. Dustin and I sit on the floor, barefoot, and talk.

We talk about small things. Food, and weather, and crazy Capitol people. We laugh when the other insults the Capitol like they're aliens. They're alien to us.

We talk about our family and friends back home. This is actually the first time he learns that Griffin is my best friend. What I love most is that he doesn't seem to get jealous.

I learn that Dustin has a younger brother and lives with both of his parents.

It brings tears to my eyes when we get to a shaky subject.

"So who's your family back home?" he asks.

"It's my... well, it used to be, my mom, dad, and my two sisters, Willow and Belle. But my mom died of a sickness years ago. Willow died in a fire." I explain.

He looks at me softly and intertwines his fingers in mine. I look down, not wanting him to see the single tear rolling down my face.

He lifts my chin with his index finger and thumb, and looks me in the eye. He uses his thumb to wipe the tear from my face. His brown eyes are thick with emotion. It's hard to imagine they are the same empty ones I saw only a few days ago at the reaping.

His eyes tell me to be strong, that he feels sorry for me, he knows what I'm going through. Maybe that's just what I want them to show, so that's what I see. But I'm right. They show empathy. Empathy...

"What happened to your family?" I ask in a small voice.

He just shakes his head. It's a touchy subject for him, I assume.

"You know what you told me, only two days ago. I don't have to be alone. Neither should you. We'll protect each other. We will get through this."

He just stares out the window now.

"I live with both my parents." he begins. "Maybe physically, but now quite mentally. My father was working in the mines one day. An explosion occurred. He was to close. He was in a coma for months. Being from the seam, he didn't even have a bed to sleep on. He slept in a corner of our home, with a single blanket. One day I was just coming back home, and he was sitting, eyes open on the floor. But he was never quite the same." he says, almost not even directed to me, or to anyone.