No Regrets (a Hunger Games Fan Fiction)

17. Practice

"You're slouching." Layla points out.

"Ugh!" I say, sitting up straight in the chair.

We're in the living room, practicing for interviews. I'm sitting in one of the chairs, while Layla is sitting across from me on one of the couches. She's trying to teach me etiquette, even though my mom already has some drilled into me. That doesn't mean that I use it (or like to use it) though. Adam and Beetee are in Adam's room, practicing for the actual interview.

"There, much better. Now try to sit like that until I get back, I have to get a couple things for the next thing we're practicing." She says, getting up and walking to her room.

Usually if someone told me to stay in this position I wouldn't. I'd slouch until I heard them coming back. But this time I stay upright. I want to be presentable. I need to practice. I want sponsors.

Layla comes back after a couple of minutes, holding two boxes. She sets them on the couch, and then sits next to them. "What's that?" I ask, pointing to the boxes.

Layla opens the smaller box on top, and I see a pair of silver heels inside. "They're for practice." She says, and then she opens the bigger box. Inside is a long red dress.

"But I was fine when I had to wear the dress and heels for the chariot ride!" I protest.

"Yes, but you need more practice. You weren't very good, and you didn't have to walk." She argues, and then she throws the shoes and dress at me. "Get changed." She says when I catch them.

After I change, Layla makes me walk around the room, instructing me. "Pull your dress up higher, you're going to trip over it." "Try walking a bit faster." "You're putting too much weight on your heels. You're going to break them!"

After a while, I'm "Good enough". "Are we done?" I ask, eager to be done with this.

"Not quite yet. I don't know what Brandon's putting you in for the interview, so I want you to practice walking in a short dress. Hold on, let me go get it. Practice while I'm gone!"

Once again, usually if someone told me to do something while they were gone, I would ignore them and do something else. But that's not the case today. I hate etiquette with all my heart and I don't want to practice, but I practice anyway. I walk back and forth across the room just like before. I practice because I know I need to. I want to stand a chance. I don't know my training score yet (we should know them tonight), so I want to practice looking nice in the interview in case it's horrible. I want sponsors; I want to live.

Layla's back after a couple of minutes, holding another box. She opens it up to reveal a little black dress. "Oh no." I whisper, pulling the dress out of the box. "Brandon better not be putting me in something like this. It's too short."

"Go change." Layla says.

When I do change, I stand in front of the mirror, disgusted. The dress is way too short. I might as well wear it as a shirt. And it's far too low-cut. Ew.

I march out to the living room, the same disgusted look on my face. "What?" Layla asks, "I think it looks nice on you."

"It's way too revealing. Give me the heels."

She throws them to me, and I have to sit down in my chair to put them on. That's how tight the dress is. I start walking across the room, but it's hard. The dress is too tight. Good thing Layla is making me practice.

It takes a long time for me to walk in the short dress. I think Layla's about to tell me that I've done a great job and that I should change back, but she gets interrupted.

Adam walks into the room, and when he sees me in the little black dress, his mouth drops. "What?" I ask, blushing.

"N-nothing." He replies, blushing too.

"C, go change. Once you're done, go meet Beetee in your room. Adam, come here. It's my turn to work with you." Layla says.

I walk to the bathroom, and I change. I think about Adam's face when he saw me, and I blush some more. You'd think he'd just seen... I don't know what, but something pretty incredible. Like President Snow canceling the Hunger Games. Yes, that'll work.