Melting Ice

Chapter 43

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What? Fear and confusion rushes through me.
What does she mean? Who is she?
Then, it hits me. That's Snows daughter.
And I'm going back to the games. Again and this time, I'm not coming back.
Nothing is the same. Sure, I have a mentor: Valerie. Never heard of her, apparently she is some Capitol women. Also, a secret reaping was held. I was clearly chosen. So, that's how I'm sitting here at 8:30 in the morning pushing around my food on my plate.
"Eat up Clover", says Valerie cracking her knuckles overly loudly.
"Do you have to do that?", I ask sitting up straighter.
"Honey, I'm the reason you'll be alive", she laughs but some how sounds serious.
"How can you be so certain?".
"You don't get it, do you? Philippa only wants you dead. She wants to kill you, and only you".
"So how the hell am I supposed to stay alive?".
"We have our plans".
"We?".
"We can't tell you Clover".
"Clove".
"Whatever. Moving on, you will train, you will enter the Hunger Games-".
"And die".
"Shut it! I'm talking!".
"...".
"...".
"I'm going to die", I eventually say.
"Your not. I won't let you. Now, go train".
The training centre is underground, again. Big metal doors lead into the same gymnasium with the same stations with the same smell of dead and false hope lingering in the musky, old air.
"When's the last time this was used?", I ask Delia.
"Years ago, like...two maybe?".
"What is the point in all this?".
She sighs deeply, then mumbles something I don't quite catch.
"What was that?".
"No talking. Go warm up", she orders then goes back to drinking some liquor from a tall bottle. Maybe this is Haymitches lost relative.
My legs ache from training. To start of with, I had to run from either side of the gymnasium to the other for as long as I could without stumbling. Then, knife throwing. Many long hours of that. Thankfully, each one hit its target without much effort needed.
I wish I had Cato's arms wrapped around me during spear throwing. He would hold my stomach, making it automatically tighten and I would feel all tingly and warm at his touch. He would then face me, I would look into his perfect blue eyes and smirk; probably call him something, then we would kiss. Life can be that simple. Sometimes, when you meet someone, everything just clicks. As if that's all that has ever mattered. They are just who they need to be, nothing more or nothing less. They are your definition of perfect. Mine is Cato, and I need him like hell.
Something snaps me out of it. I can't be Delia, she is far to busy drinking in the far corner. I eye my bag containing: water, a towel, my phone. My phone! Chucking the knives down, I run over to my bag and empty it out, frantically scrambling for my phone.

One new message

Cato: 10pm, training centre

I frown my eyebrows at the screen. What on Panem could that mean? He knows he isn't aloud here, but, he always has found a way to save me.

Me: no.
Cato: do it.
Me: no.you know your not aloud to text me when I'm training!
Cato: you better come Clove, im capable of a lot
Me: excuse me?
Cato: you heard me babe
Me: don't babe me
Cato: I will do whatever I want, Clovers. You will meet there tonight.
Me: no
Cato: or else...
Me: what?
Cato: 10pm, rooftop.
Me: stop messing with me Cato
Cato: what are you talking about?
Me: I'm not meeting you anywhere
Cato: yes, you are.
Me: what if I don't?
Cato: you don't want to know

I tap the screen impatiently, thinking of what to do. Then it comes to me.

Me: I have an interview tonight

I switch it off as quickly as I can, ignoring the beep of a new message.
Same ritual, hours upon hours of standing and walking in heels are coming my way.
"They hurt", I moan, sliding them off my feet.
"No!", Valerie sees me and swats my hands away, making me even more agitated. She clears her throat, "We need to recap everything". Wasn't hours of this already enough? Clearly not.
"Posture!", she yells at me when i slouch slightly, "Posture is so so so importantly! And, did you know...". Valerie rants on about how good it is for you; making you look slimmer, it burning more calories. All of that is said is on ear, haunts somewhere is the middle, then makes a slow deposit in the hole of "I couldn't care less". Joining 'posture' in the hole, Catos sweetness will and have now joined it.
"Why do this now? The interview isn't for hours?", I complain. Hopefully, I can fit in a nap later and more food.
"Preparation", she sighs, "Put on this". Valerie puts a small pile of clothing in my hands and ushered me to the bathroom where my prep team begin to undress and bathe me in some green liquid. Why even bother doing this; I'm not even wearing this dress! I ask her this just as the door closes. She mutters something but I don't hear it.