The Selection in the Hunger Games

Son of Clarkson - Chapter 8

 I instinctively backed away from him. President Clarkson. He was a dictator, he was everything bad, he killed my father. He was too old to be planting but Clarkson works his subjects to exhaustion. And he did that. Maxon was his son.

Maxon leaned against the rail with another acidic chuckle. "You want to get away from me now, don't you?"

"No - no. A little." We laughed at that, his no longer spiteful. "That must be hard on you..."

"Not as hard as it is on you. I've seen the districts, I travel there whenever I have time. It is hard. I'm sorry." He couldn't meet my gaze. I grabbed his chin, lifting it so he could only look at me.

"It's not your fault." Maxon would be skipped as ruler. His father had impeccable health. So this really was never going to be his fault or was his fault.

I let go of his chin when I could tell he was assured. "So tell me...does he tell jokes off camera?"

He laughed. "Sometimes. If he has enough whiskey in him."

I joined in with him and we just talked. It was very different than me and Aspen. We talked. While making out or touching each other in some way. But with Maxon, it was just conversation. It wasn't forced either. We had a lot of similarities. We both liked art, me singing, his photographs. I had seen a television that wasn't playing the Games once and we both thought tv shows were rather exciting. We made fun of Gavril's various hair colors and the amount of times Celeste had yelled at someone earlier today. We just talked. It was nice.

I yawned which caused Maxon to smile. "Well, I should probably let you get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it," Maxon added. I smiled off his compliment and we walked back to my dormitory. It was a bleak gray room that was not allowed to be customized. But it was the biggest room I had ever had and its bed was amazing. It was like I was sleeping on air.

"It was an honor talking to you, my dear," he said with a grin.

"Please don't call me that," I replied, smiling. "Say it again and I'll have to section off my hiding spot from you."

"The entire balcony? I'll come in by rope."

"I'd like to see that. Goodnight, Maxon."

"Goodnight, Ms. Singer."