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★★★
THIS AIR IS STILL. MY breathing has stuttered. Ivelisse Rosewood. That's my name. The name my parents gave me. I've been reaped.
I stare straight ahead and swallow heavily. The crowd has parted around me, staring, whispering. I am known by many in District Three.
"I presume that would be our Ivelisse Rosewood!" Bacchus is looking right at me with a big smile, and my vision swims slightly. Everything is too sharp, too bright. "Well? Come on up, we don't bite!"
That's a lie if I've ever heard one. Taking stiff, wobbly steps to the podium, I climb the steps on slightly shaky legs and stand beside our escort. I practically tower over him.
"Well, Miss Rosewood—"
"Ivy!" The scream comes from the crowd. I look, and it's Xavier. He struggles out of Colt's arms and runs toward the stage, between the legs of the people in front of him. Before I know it, he's in my arms.
"Xavier!" I cry, holding him close. He tucks his face into the crook of my neck and clings tightly to my shoulders. "Go back! Don't—"
Then the Peacekeepers are grabbing him, pulling him away. He sobs, the most emotion I have ever seen him show. I clamp my mouth shut and force back the tears rising in my eyes. Not here. Not now.
"Ahem. That, uh, that was quite touching!" Bacchus flashes a dazzling smile and smooths back his pink hair, which must have been jostled a bit by the Peacekeepers. For the first time, I notice the mentors sitting on chairs behind him. Beetee and Wiress. I don't know much about them, but Beetee is looking at me with a sort of sad sympathy. It almost makes me want to cry again.
"And now for the boys..." I hold my breath as Bacchus reaches into the other glass ball, hoping against hope that it's not someone I know, or especially, Jax. It's selfish, I know. No one deserves to be reaped.
"Gavin Colard!"
Oh. I don't know him. I've never seen him, spoken to him. But he looks so small. Only thirteen. My heart tightens at the sight of him, tired and sad and afraid, climbing the stairs to the stage.
"Lovely, simply magnificent!" Bacchus's smile stretches wide, too wide for his face. It's unsettling. "Now, any volunteers for these two?"
Silence.
I catch Colt's eyes in the crowd, and he stares at me sadly. The thought strikes me like lightning—even if he was young enough to volunteer, would he do that for me? To protect me in the arena? Would Haldin?
I wouldn't want them to give up their lives for me, though.
But would they?
"Well then!" Bacchus spreads his arms and grins, an weak imitation of the Capitol show host, Caesar Flickerman. I respect him for trying, though. "Mayor?"
