BORN TO DIE | CLATO (THG)

SEVEN

CLOVE KENTWELL

Leonardo Kentwell.

The name echoes around in my brain repeatedly even though it has only been spoken once. Lightning crackles through my veins. Time seems to slow down and the people standing below me blur out of focus.

No. No. This can't be happening. His name was one in thousands. Thousands. It shouldn't even have been possible. Yet there he is. Leo, my precious little brother, the kindest, sweetest, most innocent person I had the blessing of being related to, unsteadily making his way up to the steps. He looks smaller and weaker than ever, his shoulders curled forward, terror apparent in his eyes. A strong gust of wind would be able to knock him off balance.

No. Not Leo. Anyone but him. I had spent half of my life caring for him and fighting to keep him alive after losing everything. And in a mere matter of days, he would be thrown into an arena with twenty-three other tributes to fight to the death. One of those tributes being his big sister, who had struggled so hard to keep him safe, to keep him alive. This had to be some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on us.

I watch in frozen horror as my little brother slowly ascends the stone steps of the stage. The Square is pin-drop silent. My stomach roils, threatening to spill its contents out in front of all of Panem to see. I gaze out at the crowd in horror. Why was no one volunteering? That was what we are all trained to do, right? I dig my fingernails deep into my palm so hard I draw blood. It's all I can do to keep myself from going hysterical. Volunteer, please. Please, let someone volunteer.

Leo is on the stage now. He takes slow, tremulous steps to the space right beside me. An imaginary vice wraps itself around my throat, choking me, suffocating me. This has to be some kind of nightmare. No, no, no, no, no. Wake up Clove. Wake up. No. Wake up Clove!

"I volunteer!"

My eyes fly open. Relief floods through me. Sweet, sweet relief. I almost want to collapse onto the ground and start sobbing in happiness. Until I see who has volunteered.

Standing in the very centre of the Square, his blond hair glowing golden in the sunlight, is District Two's one and only, Cato Hadley. The Square remains silent. No one else volunteers against him. No surprises there. You would have to be either extremely idiotic or extremely courageous to try and start a fight with Cato Hadley. I almost wish someone would. But it's either him or Leo.

Cato takes Leo's place. Leo turns to face me, his eyes brimming with tears. I force a lump back down my throat and take a deep breath. No tears, Clove. "Go find Leanore," I mouth. Slowly, Leo nods and teeters back down the steps where he's intercepted by a pair of Peacekeepers.

"And there we have them! District Two's very own tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Monique declares with a flourish of her hand. The crowd erupts in applause. They approve. Of course they do. The beloved son of two past victors who has made his power clear for everyone to see. The small, yet deadly girl who is famous for her talent with knives. Yes, they have a good chance of having a victor this year.

"Shake hands," Monique tells us over the roars of the crowd.

So we do. My eyes meet his. The eyes of my best friend. My closest, most trusted confidante. My training partner, who knows my every move, my every attack like it is his own. The eyes of the boy that I am going to have to kill.

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We are led down the winding halls of the Justice Building and into separate rooms where we get to say our final goodbyes to our families. I try not to think too much about how eerily similar the room I'm in is to the office I was in on the day my parents were killed. Thankfully, I don't get too much time to dwell on this, because a few moments later, the door flies open and Leo and Ember dash in and fling themselves onto me.