Chapter 1: 74th Reaping

I hate Reaping Day. By now, I know the drill, having escaped being selected for death four times already. But that doesn't make the tradition any less hard.

When my family and I arrive in the District Square, my brother Rye and I – the only ones in our family still eligible to be Reaped –register with the Peacekeepers. As we part at our respective age groups, I clap him on the shoulder. Get through today without being called, and he'll be free from the Reaping Bowl forever. Including today, I have three more to get through, but I've survived four previously, so the odds are in my favor right?

As I make to stand with the 16-year-old boys, I see her. Across the dividing aisle. In a pretty blue dress, her flowing brown hair pulled up in a single braid, Katniss Everdeen would not, at first glance, be seen as my peer. Maybe it's the makeup that accentuates her alabaster skin, her round face, luminous green eyes and full lips…..

I try not to stare, especially when I see her hug Prim, the little sister who I hear she loves more than her own life. Do you know? I will my thoughts to ask her. Do you know much I love you, even if I've never shown it? One of these days I will, though. I dream of us meeting by happenstance, talking and then becoming friends. And eventually one day, I imagine taking her into a deserted stairwell in school, dream of kissing her until she is gasping for breath; I dream of taking her myself, perhaps even her virginity until I feel myself cum in my sleep from such a wet dream.

So consumed by my daydreams am I that I realize I have completely tuned out the entire opening spiel about the Dark Days, and even the reading of Past Hunger Games Victors for our district. Doesn't matter. The Dark Days bit is standard procedure, rote and boring as hell. The PHGV Reading, as it's known in shorthand, is not always, though. This year proves to be interesting as I look to see Peacekeepers carry a passed out Haymitch Abernathy – our only living victor out of a pitiful two in 73 years – away on a stretcher. He must have tumbled off the stage again. I feel bad to have missed it. Even if he makes an ass of himself in front of the entire nation every year, Haymitch is at least good for a laugh.

Our escort, who looks brand new and is introduced as Effie Trinket by the Mayor, then turns to select the female tribute. I find Katniss in the crowd and will my thoughts: Please, please don't pick her.

She isn't. But she comes close. Unfortunately, for me, close is enough to send my world spiraling out of control.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

Some in the crowd audibly groan as a petrified Prim emerges from their midst after a moment. A 12-year-old is never a good omen for any District; no one that young has won the Games. Ever. It's as guaranteed a death sentence as you can get in the arena.

But Primrose's terror is quickly dwarfed by that of her sister, who now emerges out of her area unbidden.

"Prim!" she croaks. The little girl doesn't hear. "Prim!" Peacekeepers move into to cut her off and I am just about to risk harm to protect my secret love when she, panicked, screams the words that shatter any hope of a future with her.

"I volunteer! I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

In complete contrast to me, Effie Trinket looks like she is about to wet herself with joy. A volunteer, and from an outlying District? This will be headline news across Panem in a matter of minutes!

"Wonderful!" she cries, and beckons Katniss to the stage. Prim, screaming and wailing, has to be dragged off by a tall, dark-haired boy: Gale Hawthorne, who I know is probably Katniss's only certain friend. I try not to let the jealousy I have for him consume me. He's at least helping to spare the little girl. Some of the boys around me sigh in relief. It is never easy to see a 12-year-old sent to their death.

I barely hear Katniss echo her name into the microphone. "Well, I bet my hat that was your sister!" Effie trills. I fight the urge to snort. Yeah, no shit. Really, are all Capitol citizens this…. vauge?

"And now for the boys!" Effie reaches into the Reaping Ball and I hold my breath.

"Gale Hawthorne!"

If Prim's reaping and Katniss's sacrifice shocked the District, Gale's name nearly makes the people from the Seam area come unglued. I hear whispers from a few rows behind me: Who will get us fresh game now?, they ask. It is well known that Katniss began hunting to feed her family after her father died in a mining accident several years back. When she teamed up with Gale – in a predicament similar to hers – they began selling their catches in the Hob – the technically-illegal black market in town.

Gale has yet to come forward, and a desperate thought suddenly hits me: what if I volunteered in Gale's place? If they went into the arena together, who knows what might happen? They are probably secretly in love, which makes this even worse, most of all for me. Then I see Rye staring at me intently. He has a look on his face that clearly screams Don't you dare.

I hold my tongue and now it's too late, Gale has mounted the stage. Effie makes the best friends-or-whatever-they-are shake hands before they are escorted into the Justice Building.