The PokéGames (A Pokémon/Hunger Games Crossover Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1 to the 3

(A/N) Sorry that this chapter is late and kinda short. I had a final project to work on, and I did write some around that, but I kinda wrote ahead a little bit instead of working on this chapter... Oops. Plus I've been really unfocused lately because I started watching Supernatural a few weeks ago, and I didn't think I was going to get sucked in too much, BUT I DID. And I only just started season 2 and my emotions are on a ROLLERCOASTER and I can't stop obsessing over it! So, moral of the story is, if you have not watched Supernatural, DON'T START BECAUSE YOU WILL GO INSANE. Kthnxbai! :)

Lunch was a blur. I had barely been able to focus on the conversation; I was too busy replaying the events of the morning in my head. The memories made me want to smile, and then grimace, and then giggle but then curl up in a ball under the table and moan and never come out because how in the world did I fall off a freaking pole?! I couldn't have, like, slid down gracefully or something? How difficult would that have been, I mean really?!

After lunch, I made my way back down to the training center. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out what I could say to Dylan... if anything. I was really worried that he wouldn't want to associate with someone as obviously weak as I was. I mean, who gets so scared of heights that she can't handle being a measly 15 feet above the ground on a pole? Me, apparently. Oh man oh man oh man I really needed to pull myself together.

I stopped in front of the doors to the training room. Okay, big decision time: seek him out, or not?

I sighed. Who was I kidding? I only had one real option to consider. I opened the doors and scanned the room for Dylan. Aaand... I... didn't see him anywhere. Great. I started to walk across the main room to the back wall, behind which was the physical fitness area where the obstacle courses were. He was probably back there.

My strides increased in length in time with my confidence as I mentally pumped myself up. I was feeling pretty secure, until I felt my arm get tugged sideways, and I almost fell. Wouldn't have been the first time today.

I straightened up, and tried to twist around to see who had grabbed me, just in time to get yanked down into a sitting position.

"Quick, pretend like you're helping us build a fire." Sitting in front of me was a boy. I could barely see his face, since he was hunched over a piece of wood, frantically rubbing two sticks together over it. From what I could see, he looked about 12 with golden brown hair swooped up off his forehead in some sort of fashionable style, not so long that it looked girly or shaggy, but just long enough to be considered stylish by people who actually cared. I glanced around to see who else was in the area to constitute the rest of the plural pronoun, but there was no one else in sight.

"Uh, who are you, who else constitutes an 'us,' and what in the world are you doing?" I asked him, my tone more annoyed with each question.

The boy stopped rubbing his sticks and looked up suddenly, staring at me like he just realized that I was there.

"Oh! Hi! We haven't met!" His brown eyes were wide in excitement as he stared at me, his open mouth curling up in the corners. He had big eyes and small features, looking like a cute little child TV star or something. Wait... wait, I had seen him on TV before, on the parade recaps. Wasn't he-

"I'm Chris! Or Ian. Some of my friends call me that sometimes. I respond to both. It's really more of a nickname. But I don't think we're quite at the nickname stage yet. You can call me Chris for now. That might change later though, if everything goes as planned."

I just stared at him as he chattered, too confused to say anything.

"But yeah! Fire-making! Come on!" He went back to rubbing his sticks with renewed vigor. So he wasn't too good at answering questions. Okay then.