Pyromania | The 60th Hunger Games

FIVE

When I wake up, it's not by choice but because Martial took it upon himself to hit me with a pillow. He seems to be in a much better mood now and is actually smiling.

"Whaddya want?" I rub my eyes and sit up. He places the pillow back on the bed and holds out his hands to me. It's dinnertime, he says, as if there is an allotted time to eat now. For a moment we sit in silence, deliberating our situation as the train now rumbles along to the Capitol. I had slept through the final four reapings and it's dark outside now. This morning, the two of us would have expected this year to be like the others: we would meet outside the gates early and join the older kids in the Town square, if Martial knew the volunteers he spent most of his time supporting them and, in the evening, our families gathered in his lounge- it's much bigger than mine- and watch the highlights.

It was always an enjoyable evening on reaping day. My mother and Martial's father, Etch, always competed to see who could whip up the best snacks for us while I played a card game with Martial and his little sister, Florence. We all take those evenings to chill and, I suppose, appreciate each other. Not to mention, little Flo is possibly the only other person who likes me.

"I saw Artemis in the Justice Building," I bring myself back to reality and watch him fiddle with the bedsheets, "she didn't see me, I guessed she wanted to apologise to you." His nose twitched and, to hide it, he scratched at it.

I bring my knees up to my chest and watch him look around the room and out of the open doorway. Only now am I noticing how affected he is by this. Artemis has been close friends with Martial for years now, possibly more so than I have. She has always been more attuned to his emotions and, yet, she didn't visit him to say goodbye.

"Did Lewis visit you?" He shakes his head and meets my eyes.

"No, just Mom and Dad."

"Flo?" He shakes his head and scratches at his nose again.

"No, she was there, but she wouldn't speak to me. Or hug me back..." We have descended into silence again. I'm turning the lighter over in my hand when he restlessly drops his face into his hands and sits up straight again, staring at the wall. "... I have to win, Tezza. I- I have to, for Flo." He glances at me briefly and leaves the room.

Everyone wants to win, I think, but how far is he willing to go?

I followed not too long after. I changed into a comfy pair of trousers and a red shirt that was hanging in the wardrobe and joined everyone at the dinner table. My mind is racing, playing Martial's words over and over until they're just white noise.

"Terra?" I look up from the spot on my empty plate and notice that everyone- Martial, Gia, Trix and Lys- are staring at me expectantly. Gia points at my hand, the light fabric of her navy shirt falls off her shoulder and reveals her toned shoulder and flat chest. "What happened to your hand?"

I look down and notice I'm still holding my lighter, but they want to know about the white scar on my palms. Closing my fist, I lean back in my chair.

"I burnt it," my voice trails off, it's not like I can tell them I enjoy setting things on fire.

"She did it the day we met," Martial says, he glances at me from across the table and turns to Gia to explain further. "It was my first time sneaking out of the village, I just wanted to see the trees up close and suddenly one of them was on fire... and then it started to spread. I could hear the peacekeepers and the alarm being raised, but before I could move anywhere, Tezza just dropped out of a tree. Out of a burning tree. The sleeves of her shirt were on fire, and she tried to put it out with her hands." He looks over at me, a small smile on his face. I narrowed my eyes on him. What is he doing? Every part of that story is incriminating, he could ruin my chances, earning respect from Gia and Trix.