Of Victors and Tributes

Chapter 7: A New Type of Training

The fight with Vestia keeps me up. I feel awful for how I acted, but at the same time I'm glad that I said it. I've been dealing with these thoughts for the last few days, and spending everyday with Vestia definitely isn't helping. I had to get it out before the arena. Just in case. In case she doesn't last as long as I hope she will or I don't last as long as I hope I will.

I manage a few hours of sleep before I'm woken by Koi shouting about training. At first I'm confused. Training? That ended yesterday. And then I remember that we have a new type of training today. Training for the crowd, for our last day in the Capitol tomorrow. Training for sitting besides Caesar Flickerman on live television, talking about every private thing in my life to the whole of Panem.

Panem. My life, broadcasted to all. I'm not as protective as Weaver was when it comes to my siblings and mother. Everybody has a family, and what can I do to protect them or hide them when I'm here, in the Capitol, and President Snow and his cronies know every single thing about me? Besides, I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't been disrespectful. And if I somehow did come off as annoying to the Gamemakers or the government, they would take it out on me while I'm in the Games, not my family.

I think of what is and isn't off limits while I change my clothes and prepare for breakfast and our different training. If I talk about Twine and Lacey, I'll make the Capitol's heart collapse. I don't want to say a word about Weaver to them, but his death could be used to my advantage. I cringe when I think of such a thing. Maybe I could cry while on stage? No, weakness will not be seen as a promising thing to sponsors. I can talk about my family, alive and dead, and make them feel something, but not something that will drive them away from sponsoring me.

I put my pocket watch in my pants.

At the table, everybody is quiet. Koi seems worse than ever, and I'm worried again. I catch him thinning his coffee with a morning liquor, and it makes me nervous. I've seen Cecelia drink once or twice, and Woof isn't shy to spirits, but this is a first for Koi. I think I'll have alone time with him today, maybe. I can talk to him and make sure he's okay.

Vestia doesn't speak to me, doesn't give me her usual good morning. I want to apologize, and I probably will. I don't regret what I said but I do feel bad for how I said it. She's a child headed for certain death, stressed and terrified and missing her family. And I yelled at her when she got a six.

"I know you two don't mind working together, but I think that you need some time apart. One of you will work with Koi, one of you will work with me and Woof. Four hours per session," Cecelia tells us. I'm surprised. Did Vestia ask to be trained alone because of what I said?

"I'm sorry," I whisper to her as Koi starts up a conversation. Now, I am racked with guilt.

"It's fine. I didn't ask her to be trained separately. I'd rather be with you, truth be told," she whispers back. Ah, sweet relief.

"Maybe it'll help us focus or something," I respond, just so the conversation can meet a natural end. She nods her head.

"You will be with Koi first, Taylor," Cecelia says as I take a bite from the thick toast sitting on my bread plate. I look at Koi, remembering that I want to talk to him today.

"Sounds good," I say, and Koi says something that sounds like the word perfect.

Vestia will be with Cecelia and Woof first, which is good. They can probably support her better than I can, especially when it comes to that damn evaluation score. And they can give her more tips to lure in sponsors while we're running around in the arena, considering the score probably lowered the Capitol's care for her.