Game On: Tick Tock

Chapter 2

By this point, Beck has moved in with Beetee’s mother. We’ve always sent him to her whenever we go to the Capitol. This arrangement, I realize, is probably going to become permanent now. Jena Kurtz lives in Beetee’s old apartment in the Victor’s Penthouse. He gave it to her after we got married. 

“I love you so much, mom and dad,” was all Beck could say without sobbing. Beetee and I embraced him tightly. If we had it our way, we’d never have let go. But our time is running out.

“Thank you for being there for my son,” Jena told me.

“No,” I corrected her. “Thank you.”

Now in the present, Beetee and I are shoved to the Justice Building. We turn around to get one last glimpse of Beck. He waves meekly.

Through the Justice Building, we’re thrown onto the train without getting to say goodbyes. I feel lucky that we already said our farewells to Beck.  There are others who we’ll never see again, though. My parents, for instance. I try not to cry. Even a letter would make me feel better about their years of shunning me.  And I didn’t exactly attempt to reconcile with them. I wouldn’t know where to begin.

Kami follows us, because she will be our new mentor. She insisted on it.

“How are you two holding up?” she asks when we’re alone in our compartment.

“How do you think we’re holding up?” Beetee snaps at her. “I’ve just been told that I have to fight for my life a second time, with the added bonus that my wife’s going in with me!”

Kami glares at him, her hands on her hips. “You think I don’t know? I won fifteen years before you did. I had to send four of our tributes in there during the Second Quarter Quell. And I mentored you, didn’t I? So please, calm down a little. Now, let’s find out who you’re up against.”

We watch as the reapings are replayed on the television. I know most of these people, and I saw the majority of their games. Well, I didn’t see Mags win, an elderly victor who volunteers from District 4. But she’s always been kind to me as a fellow mentor.

In District 12, only three victors remain. Seventeen-year old Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, who both won the Games just last year, are chosen. Actually, Peeta volunteers for Haymitch Abernathy, the last Quarter Quell victor.  Peeta reminds me of someone. I just can’t put my finger on it… but then, I remember: he must be related to Quinn Mellark, the girl I allied with twenty years ago.  As for Katniss, I know exactly who she is. She triggered the underground bombs at the Cornucopia. The bombs that our boy tribute, Ian Nelson, had made.  Just his luck that he allied with one of the nastiest tributes I’ve ever seen: Cato, the boy from District 2. One neck snap, and it was all over.  

Five hours into the ride, Beetee and I are relaxing on a couch, my head in his lap.

“Have I ever told you how adorable I think your voice is?” he asks.

“No,” I tease.  “You’ll have to…”

“Tell you again?”

“Yup.”

 “Your voice is the most adorable sound I’ve ever heard.”

I pull him towards me and kiss him playfully.

“Heeello.”

“You two seriously need a room,” a female voice jokes.  

I scramble to sit up at once. Ty and Kami stand in the doorway. Ty is staring at us in shock, because he didn’t know about us. We’re probably the weirdest couple he’s ever seen. Which is probably true, when you compare his brown skin to my pale skin, and the fact that I can’t speak normally anymore.

Beetee clears his throat, blushing a deep red. He’s never blushed in front of me before. It’s kind of cute.

Once we’ve arrived at the Capitol, Beetee and I are separated to get ready for the parade. I sit nervously, hoping the costume will be an improvement from last time. Sounds selfish, but it’s one of the few things that could make me smile right now.

“Here you are,” Dev says when he enters the room. “Can I just say, you still look so good after twenty years!”

“Thanks,” I mumble. How many procedures have you gone through since I last saw you? I want to ask. He looks exactly the same.

Dev opens up the bag with my costume in it. This one is a completely black jumpsuit, but I can feel small bumps decorated onto it.

“Rhinestones?” I ask him.

“Lights,” he replies, smiling. “I mean, you guys are from the electronic district, so why not? Check your sleeve for a button. That’ll turn it on.”

Surely enough, my body seems to spring to life when I press the button. I look down to see three yellow lightning bolts. So, I’m a charge of electricity. Much cooler than a plain battery.  To be honest, I’ve never felt so powerful.

All of the former victors are so talkative when we line up for the parade. Not me, though.

Beetee links his arm through mine. “Shall we?”

My geeky grin makes a comeback as I reply, “We shall.”

We step up onto the carriage, ready to take on the same audience that cheered us on twenty years ago.