Becoming Clove

Another Day in the Arena

Immediately chaos erupted. People started shouting and many leapt out of their seats, rushing towards Paradise.

“Jenna!” I said in a mixture of outrage and shock. She just looked at me and shrugged. “What the hell was that for? Are you insane?”

“Welcome to the Hunger Games,” Jenna smirked. “Life or death, hello?”

“Jenna! This is not the Hunger Games. I don’t care how annoying Paradise is, you can’t just bludgeon her to death with your folder!” I hissed.

I glanced over towards Paradise, who had a dazed expression on her face. The teacher had gone over to her, apparently prizing her safety over a deranged murder loose aka my friend Jenna.

“You gotta kill to survive!” Jenna continued, with a manic gleam in her eye.

“Who do you think you are?” I snapped. “Clove?”

Jenna snarled at that. Oops, I’d touched a nerve.

“Yes, actually… or like her,” she said, the smile wiped from her face.

“Look, Jenna,” I say, wondering how to put it tactfully. “You do know that the Hunger Games is fiction, right? And you’re not a tribute, right?”

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, Ms Elliot stormed over.

“Jenna!” she hissed as she pointed an intimidating finger. “First you talk back to me, then you injure another student! I don’t know what has gotten into you today! Let me just remind you, I will NOT tolerate that behaviour in my classroom!”

“Classroom or arena?” asked Jenna, narrowing her eyes at our teacher. “I mean, they’re both run by evil dictators. Oh, and I hope you get tracker-jackered!”

“I beg your pardon?” Ms Elliot barked. Thank goodness, she seemed to have no idea what Jena was talking about. However, it seemed she was slowly realizing that Jenna had just insulted her.

“Nothing, Ms-“ I started but was silenced as she fixed her death glare on me. I gulped internally. Maybe I had better keep my opinions to myself. And did I even want to defend an unbalanced attacker? Probably not. Then again, that person was my best friend.

“Jenna, go to the principal’s office now,” said Ms Elliot. She seemed a little calmer, probably because she had regained some control.

For some reason, Jenna now seemed to be willing to comply. Maybe this was because she had been smirking at Paradise, who had been escorted out of the room with an icepack. So, Jenna slung her backpack onto her shoulder and sashayed out of the classroom without looking back.

Ms Elliot preceded with the lesson, but with a little more temper than usual. I was on edge, as I wondered what Jenna was doing. Was she sassing the principal? Throwing staplers from her desk at her? I hoped both Jenna and our principal Ms Richards were okay. With a sudden chill, a new fear gripped me: what if Jenna decided Ms Richards was President Snow and had to be disposed off? I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

The bell signalled the start of next period, and I jumped up. Maybe Jenna would be in Science.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t in her usual seat. I slid into a chair and took out my notebook, trying not to think too hard about where she was.

“Okay, pair up,” my teacher Mr Tristan said and clapped his hands together. I looked around in a panic. Who would be my partner now Jenna had left?

Then somebody tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw a tall, dark-haired guy with glasses standing behind me. I’d seen him around, but didn’t know his name. He definitely wasn’t Jenna’s type of person to be seen with. He was geeky and loved physics, something so incredibly lame Jenna barely gave him a second glance. And because Jenna didn’t talk to him, I didn’t talk to him.

“Partner, Tia?” he said awkwardly. “Only, my friend Peter is away today and I noticed Jenna isn’t here. I saw what happened in English, by the way.”

I groaned. “So did everybody, I think.”

He shrugged in apology.

“What’s your name?” I asked. I felt a bit bad that I didn’t know it. But hey, it wasn’t like we were close or anything.

“Stephen,” he replied. “Well, everybody calls me Steve which is very irritating. I don’t believe in nicknames. I like to think I take after the great Stephen Hawkings.”

“Erm, lovely,” I nod. “So, what should I call you?”

“I suppose Steve will do, if you must,” he grumbled. “But I would prefer Stephen.”

I searched for some small talk. He seemed to do the same. Then he brightened.

“Do you know the church of Satan?” he asked abruptly.  

“No, I don’t actually,” I said uneasily. Satan? Really?

“Well, they have the coolest application forms. Want me to give you a link?” He asked, way too eagerly.

“Uhh-“ before I could justify a response, the teacher called back our attention and explained our project which involved doing an investigation into the elements of the Periodic Table.

I suffered through the rest of my Science class. It was agonising because I couldn’t stop thinking about where Jenna was and how she was doing. The only thing that kept me from rushing out was Stephen, who was surprisingly hilarious in a dry way. At last however, the bell rang and I rushed out the door, determined to track down Jenna. I looked for her at the table we usually sit at, but nobody was there. I sighed. Great. Looked like I was eating alone today.