Oyoyoyoyoy.

I just watched Inglorious Basterds the other day and it is my new favorite movie. This is not relevant to anything, but I couldn't actually think of anything relevant to say in my author's note but I didn't want to just not have an author's note because that would ruin the pattern of having author's notes in every single chapter.

So yeah. It was a pretty good movie, I guess. Explosions happened. Also fire. And some headbutts.

You should see it if you haven't already.

Goodbye.

Training Day One

Acacia Rhododendron, 15

District Eleven

The elevator ride down to the training gym is somewhat terse. Last night, our mentors asked us whether or not we planned on allying, and both Stin and I were very noncommittal about it. To be honest, I haven't been thinking about allies much. This whole thing is a nightmare, and it's not the right time or place to make friends. Especially since each and every one of those friends will have to die if I want to win.

I'm not ruling out alliances. But I don't know Stin well enough to put my life in his hands. He seems very smart and is quite funny as well, but I'm not ready to take a step like that. I don't know if I'll ever be ready.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Stin smiles at me. "After you, Miss Rhodo-dodendron."

I smile a bit at that. Stin has been calling me that ever since our escort mispronounced my name during the reapings. Now that I think about it, everyone has been mispronouncing my name ever since. I think the entire Capitol has it wrong. I don't really mind, though. What difference does it make?

I thank my district partner and step out of the elevator. My long dark hair has been pulled back into a ponytail, to make training easier. I'm not really sure what I'm going to train with and whatnot, but I'm definitely not going to waste the day.

Stin and I hurry to a set of double doors which are partially open, revealing the large gym inside. I can see tributes milling around inside. I don't know if we're late or early; it seems that the vast majority of tributes have already arrived, but there are definitely some missing. Neither of the tributes from District Nine seem to be here, for example.

The two of us slip through the double doors, and Stin immediately moves away from me. We were told that if we are uninterested in alliances, looking like a united front is a bad idea and will only draw unwanted attention towards us. As Stin moves away, though, I feel a bit lost. He's been very kind to me, and I wish I could stick with him for a while, at least until I get my bearings.

It seems that we are meant to wait for the other tributes to arrive. I glance around; it looks as though there is another missing district in addition to District Nine. It looks like the tributes from District Four are late as well, I think. I wonder what they're up to?

Five minutes later, the two from Four wander in. Neither of them seem particularly sorry for being late. After ten more minutes of waiting, an Avox is dispatched to collect the two from Nine. Several tributes are talking amongst themselves, but I have no one to talk to. I drift into an unoccupied corner of the gym and lean against the wall, quietly waiting.

Finally, the Avox appears with the two missing tributes in tow. The girl crosses her arms over her chest and glares at everyone antagonistically, and the boy smiles a bit sheepishly and gives a slight wave to his audience.

"Ahem." Everyone turns to look at the man who has stepped onto the raised podium at the far end of the gym. "Welcome, welcome," he says sweetly, twirling a lock of jet-black hair around his bony finger. "My name is Decius and I am delighted to have you all here. I'm sure you've all noticed the training stations set up! They are for your personal usage for the next three days. Feel free to learn about anything you think will help you win the Hunger Games!" Now," he continues, pacing along the edge of the podium. "I have a few rules for you, and then we can get started!

"First and foremost, you will not attack or cause deliberate harm to any other tribute. If you wish to spar with someone, there are trainers at every station that are more than happy to work with you. Secondly, you will leave training materials at the station you found them. It makes clean-up easier," he says, chuckling. "Lastly, if you have any troubles you come directly to me! Do not start any fights because no one here is in any mood to clean up messes." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "And that's all, have fun!" He claps his hands and men and women in red uniforms enter through the double doors, walking towards the training stations set up around the gym.

I pull away from the wall but remain where I am. Where to go first? I think. My mentor said to avoid things that I'm good at. So what am I good at? There's a set of nets that are rigged up to the ceiling for climbing. I'm an excellent climber, so I shouldn't go over there, I think. There also seems to be a set of machines built to test your stamina and speed in running, and I'm a fast runner. Avoid that station. Lastly, there's an edible plants station and a computerized test to go along with it. Everyone in District Eleven knows about edible plants, I think, but decide to avoid that station all the same.

What I'd really like to do is go to a weapons station. I've never used a weapon before, but I know that I have very good aim. If I could get my hands on some knives, throwing knives maybe, I'd probably do okay with them. Of course, I might get the throw wrong and hit them with the grip instead of the blade.

By now, tributes have already dispersed to various stations. The weapons stations are all clustered together and I take a minute to examine them. The stations I want are the long-range weapons stations, I think. Now, which ones are those? I count four: throwing knives, throwing axes, spears, and the bow and arrow.

To my dismay, it seems that the Careers have gravitated straight towards the weapons stations and are now showing off their abilities. The District Four girl has already picked up a spear and is currently jabbing it into a dummy's guts with the kind of accuracy that makes me nervous. Throwing axes is empty for a moment, but right when I decide it might be right for me, the boy from Seven appears and picks up one in each hand before hurling them. One thuds into the dummy's neck, the other into its bowels.

Well, never mind, then.

Throwing knives and bow and arrow are still mercifully empty, but they are unlikely to remain that way unless I pick one. Bow and arrows, I decide. I can't accidentally turn an arrow the wrong way around, can I?

I cross the gym, barely managing to avoid the pair from Eight, and make it to the bow and arrows station without further incident. The trainer, who had been leaning against a quiver and looking bored, glances up and smiles when she sees me. "Hi!" she gushes. "For a second there I was worried nobody would come over here! I didn't get anybody last year and it was so boring."

"Hi," I respond. "I don't know if I'm what you wanted, but…"

"No, no, no," says the trainer, waving her hands. "I never get Careers anyway, so don't worry about that. They like working with their hands and whatnot. But the bow and arrows are perfect if you want to survive!" She hefts up a bow from a rack on the wall and yanks me closer to her. "No, too big," she says, and replaces it. After a moment, she finds one that satisfies her. "Oh, here we are!" she says. "This is the perfect fit!"

Grabbing my wrist, she pulls me over to a miniature shooting range, with the ever-popular dummies set up at the end. "Alright," she says, shoving the bow into my hands. "You want to hold it like this." Efficiently, she circles around me, poking me into place and arranging my arms so that my stance is acceptable. "Just stand with your feet spread apart a bit more—yeah, like that—okay! You've got a good stance right there!"

Holding the bow is more difficult than I thought. The strain of keeping my arms up hits me almost immediately. My back is bent to accommodate the large weapon. After a few moments of standing uncertainly, I glance at the trainer, who is sitting on the stool looking at me. "Um…" I say. "Should I maybe pick up an arrow now?"

She laughs. "No!" she exclaims. "You have to get the stance right first. See how long you can hold it!"

"But... ah… we only have three days…"

"We'll get to shooting," says the trainer, "as long as you come back here every day. Look around. You see anyone else jumping for bow and arrows? Most kids assume they can't learn something like this in three days, so that leaves me with one student to work with! If this is the only thing you do for the next three days, I guarantee you won't be half-bad by the end!"

The trainer is smiling so encouragingly that I can't help but smile back. "Okay," I promise, because her speech has convinced me. Perhaps this won't be so bad after all. Maybe it'll even be easy!

"Great! Now don't move for the next fifteen minutes!"

Well, maybe not too easy.

Isis Mortici, 16

District Two

The boy from District Four really isn't good at this.

I pretend to hack away at my dummy while I watch him. He's definitely decent with a sword, which means that he's gotten some training. But he doesn't know where to put it. He's fighting a dummy, and he keeps on analyzing it like he's waiting for it to attack him.

I consider trying to mentor him, but that's the trainer's job. I turn back to my own dummy instead. "Well, Mr. Dummy," I mumble, coming in close and spearing him through the guts, "maybe if you weren't such a dummy you wouldn't be in this predicament." I let out a short giggle and catch the boy from Four watching me. I smile at him, and wave. "Hi!" I call. "Do you like killing dummies too?"

He blinks. "I guess so," he says, sounding wary. I wonder what his deal is, I think. Maybe he's afraid of me!

"Are you afraid of me?" I ask him.

His expression doesn't change. He looks more bored than anything else. "Nope."

"But maybe you're just a good actor!" I wail. "How do I know if you're telling the truth? I want proof, bub, solid proof!"

"I don't have any proof," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Then that's that, I'm afraid," I say, shaking my head sadly and yanking my light sword from the dummy's guts. "Get on your knees, District Four. I've taken off enough heads to know how to get this job done."

He still doesn't look very alarmed, although I notice how he clutches the hilt of his sword. "That's not allowed, District Two!"

"I know!" I exclaim. "I was joking!" Before he can get away, I lean over and clap him roughly on the shoulder. "I'm Isis. Who are you, my good knight?"

"Bain," he says. "And what do you mean, 'my good knight?'"

"Half the time I don't know what I mean," I say wisely.

"That's… oddly poetic," he remarks.

"Thank you!"

Now I'm kind of invested in continuing this conversation, but two more tributes are walking our way. I recognize the boy from District One. "He's hot," I mumble, more to myself than Bain, but my new friend hears me anyway and rubs his elbow awkwardly. Alongside the boy from One his district partner, looking very neat in a monochrome blue ensemble.

Both tributes come to a stop in front of us. The girl looks like she is about to introduce herself, but her partner cuts her off. "Hey," he says. "I'm Gander Gleam. You probably already knew that, but whatever, I'll say it again." His smile is dazzling.

Bain gives a terse nod. "Bain Arnon," he says.

"Are we all saying last names?" I ask. "I don't want to be excluded. I'm Isis Mortici! Howdy!" I waggle my fingers at both tributes from District One.

The girl waves back and offers a delicate smile. "My name is Ivory Margueax," she says. "I'm charmed to meet you all."

"So," says Gander, rubbing his hands together. "You two in or out?"

"In or out?" I ask. "In what? Out what?"

Gander rolls his eyes. "What the hell do you think? The Career alliance!" His chest swells. "I want to get one thing straight. I'm the leader. Anyone who has a problem with that can get the hell out."

After a moment of somewhat tense silence, Bain nods sharply. "I'm in," he says.

"Good," says Gander. "What about you, Isis?"

For a moment I consider turning down his offer, just to freak him out, but he seems like the type who would take it far too personally. "I'm in too, I guess."

Gander nods slowly. "What about your district partner?" he asks. "The guy who got reaped. Is he in?"

I pout. "No. Definitely not." He told me in the elevator today. Gave me a horrible look while he was doing it, too, as though he were judging me or something. I was a little hurt, to be honest. It didn't help that this was almost immediately after I'd triggered my Trigeminal Neuralgia for the morning. The attacks will happen at least once a day, but if I touch my eyelid in the morning and again in the afternoon in the privacy of my bathroom, the attack won't happen again unless something mistakenly brushes my eyelid—and that's kind of a rare occurrence.

Gander rolls his eyes. "Well, I hope he doesn't expect any mercy in the arena, because he sure as hell isn't going to get any. What about your district partner?" he asks, turning to Bain.

"Waverly is definitely in," says Bain. "She's coming over here now, actually."

I look in the direction Bain is looking, and blink as the District Four girl saunters over to our group. She has a brilliant smile plastered on her face, and she waves frantically when she sees Bain. "Hey!" she calls, barging into the circle. "Did I miss the party?"

Gander is looking her over with a raised eyebrow. "Baby," he says, "it's just getting started."

Waverly blinks innocently, her green eyes glistening wetly in the dim light. "Ooh," she says, eyeing Gander's abdominal muscles unabashedly. "Hello, handsome."

I stick my tongue out. "Whoa with the sexual tension," I groan, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Bain turns a little pink and Ivory wrinkles her nose. "It's stifling me! I'm drowning in waves of mutual attraction!"

Waverly glares at me. "Jealous, hon?" she asks, indicating her body. She is really attractive, probably a lot more attractive than I am. But I'm not really jealous.

"No!" I say cheerfully, and giggle when her eyes narrow dangerously.

"Ladies, ladies," says Gander, holding up his hands. "Try not to fight over little old me. There's plenty for everyone. Even you, Ivory." He smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

"No, thank you," she says primly. "I'd prefer to discuss the sixth member of our alliance. See, I didn't expect the boy from Two to be interested in joining us, and I believe the boy from Seven would be a suitable replacement." She points him out to us. Currently, he's beating a dummy to death with an axe.

"Yeah, he seems like Career material," I admit.

Gander thinks about it. "Not Victor material," he says critically, "but he seems decent enough, I suppose."

"The Mighty Leader has spoken!" I say. "Lead on, O Mighty One!"

This seems to please Gander. "Follow me," he commands, waving us forward. Bain shrugs and puts his sword back in its stand. I shove mine into Mr. Dummy's kneecap and join the group.

Waverly gravitates towards Bain and the two begin chatting, so I walk up to Ivory instead. "Hi," I say. "We're going to be allies, huh?"

Ivory gives me a small smile. "It would appear so," she says. "I'm sure it will be a pleasure to work with you."

"You seem alright yourself," I reply. "You and Bain." I don't say anything about Waverly and Gander. I don't think either of them is particularly likeable, and I don't think I'm going to enjoy working with them at all.

"Thank you," says Ivory, leveling a glare at Gander's back.

"So you don't like him?" I whisper. "I get it. He's annoying, he's really annoying."

Ivory shakes her head, although it's clear her heart isn't in it. "Oh no, I like him just as much as I like everybody else," she says simply.

"I think you're lying."

She frowns at me, looking affronted. "Excuse me?"

"Whoops," I mutter. "It looks like I crossed a line. Did I cross a line? Sorry if I did."

For a moment it looks as though Ivory won't forgive me. Then she sighs and shakes her head, black hair brushing against her chin. "You aren't the first person to cross a line today," she says softly. "You are forgiven."

The conversation breaks off abruptly as we reach the training station where the boy from Seven is currently collecting axes. When he sees the five of us watching him, he freezes.

That makes Gander chuckle. "We're not here to kill you," he laughs. "Yet, anyway." He strolls up to the boy and puts his hands on his hips. "You interested in being a Career, Seven?"

Slowly, the boy puts his axes down. The scars on his arms ripple weirdly. "Why?" he asks. "Are you inviting me into your alliance?"

"We would love to have you," says Ivory sweetly.

The boy smiles at her. "Did you come all the way over here to tell me that? That's awfully kind of you."

"We all came over here," Waverly interrupts.

"So you did," says the boy. "Thank you for that. I'm glad that you all care so much."

"Some of us care more than others," Gander snaps. "Personally, I don't give a shit whether or not you join up, but the longer I have to wait the more I don't want you around. Make up your mind."

The boy looks a bit shocked at being spoken to so rudely, but makes the wise decision to not confront Gander about it. He doesn't think for very long. "Well," he says. "I'd like to get to know everyone better, so…"

"You accept. Great. Figured you would," says Gander. "Alright, so this is it. We six are the Careers, and no one else. I'm the leader, so you come to me with any problems." He yawns and stretches. "I'm going to train now," he announces. "You guys can do what you want." He strides off towards the weight training station.

"Come on, Bain," says Waverly. "I promised I'd show you how good I am with a spear!" She grabs him by the shoulder and moves to pull him off. "Bye, everybody. See you guys at lunch!" Bain barely has time to nod at us before Waverly drags him away.

Now Ivory, the boy from Seven and I are the only ones left. He smiles at us both. "My name is Alder," he says. "It's very nice to meet both of you."

"Isis," I say, by way of introduction. "Sup?"

"I'm Ivory," says the girl from District One. "I'm quite glad you accepted. I think you'll add a lot to the team."

While I'd like to get to know Alder better, I'd also like to get back to sword training. "I'm gonna go finish off Mr. Dummy's family," I announce, pointing back towards my weapons station. "Have a nice chat, you crazy kids!" I skip away before either of them can say anything.

When I return to the station, the sword I left in Mr. Dummy's kneecap is waiting for me. I pull it out and begin to disembowel the other dummies, feeling very accomplished. I have my alliance, I think, as cotton insides rain down on me. I'll be with other kids. My family away from family. The thought makes me happier than I can say, so I'm smiling as I plunge my sword into Mrs. Dummy's kidneys, again and again and again.

Gander Gleam, 18

District One

I heave the fifty pound weight into the air, letting out a soft grunt as I heft it over my head. My muscles ripple as I thrust the weight skyward. Everybody look, I think, punching the air with my new trophy. Everybody get a good look. This is what you bitches are up against.

I'm still showing off my incredible strength when a bell begins to ring and Decius the head trainer vaults back onto the stage. "Lunch has been prepared!" he calls. "Everyone head into the next room and take a seat!"

I shrug and replace the weight, wiping a bead of sweat off my neck. I jam my hands into my pockets and stroll towards the dining room. This food better be delicious, I think. I'm starving. To be honest, I haven't been training, per se—just showing the other tributes what a threat I'll be. But I've been doing it all morning and I've worked up an appetite.

On the way to the dining room, I meet up with Bain, who is coming from the knife work station. I doubt he's anywhere near as good as me, I think, because the dagger is my main weapon and Bain got reaped. He isn't a real Career, but we need the alliance nice and big to keep up appearances. Besides, I'll be able to make up for his lack of experience.

"Hey, man," I say, clapping him roughly on the shoulder. "How's the knife coming along?"

Bain shrugs. "Alright," he says warily. "I think I'm better with a sword."

"Better stick to the sword, then," I say. "Knives are my weapon. Got it?" At the expression on his face, I burst out laughing. "Don't get all fucking excited. If there are any extra knives in the Cornucopia, yeah, sure, take one. But I get first dibs. I'm the leader, remember?"

We arrive at the dining room before Bain can answer. It's a lot smaller than the gym. In the center of the room, eight long tables have been set up. At the moment, two of them are occupied by tributes.

I point out the table in the middle. "That one," I say, and barge through the crowd of tributes to get to it. I sit at the very center of the bench attached to the table; Bain sits at the end on the other side. Seconds later, Waverly slinks out of the crowd and immediately sits next to Bain, as close as she can get without sliding into his lap. I frown. What the hell is she sitting next to him for? I think. It's me she should want to sit next to.

I'm about to voice this opinion out loud when Alder appears. He glances at the free spots and sits next to me without a moment's hesitation. Oh, fucking fantastic. Tree boy likes me the best. Wonderful.

"Hey, guys," says Alder, beaming at the three of us. "How's the morning been?"

"It's been really fun," says Waverly happily. "I got to show Bain my skills with a spear. Wasn't that fun, Bain?" She nudges him with her shoulder, leaning so close that her forehead rubs against his cheek. His eyes widen and he nods.

"Y-yeah! Loads of fun!"

"And I've been showing everybody else just how screwed they are," I pronounce.

"Who's screwed?" asks Isis, popping up from behind me. She smiles, waves, and throws herself down next to Waverly. "Is it me? I don't think I'm ready for that just yet. Need to get to know you a bit better first."

I wink at her. "Don't you know me well enough already?" Isis is a pretty thing; no beauty queen, but definitely pretty. She's got nice hair for a ginger; long and silky, with bangs that just about reach her brown eyes. And she smiles all the time. I could go for that.

Ivory announces her presence with a sigh. She sighs all the time; she's so fucking annoying about it. Like she's so perfect.

My district partner slips into a seat next to Alder. "Hello, everyone," she says.

I don't feel like greeting her, so I don't, but everybody else does. Then the table is quiet for a moment. Predictably, nobody else tries to sit with us. If they did I'd throw them across the room. This table is Careers only. Wouldn't want any of the lower district scumbags spying on us, would we?

The food arrives before anyone has to think of something to say. Plates are distributed and covered dishes are placed in front of us. I uncover the dish closest to me to reveal some kind of fried fish thing. I figure District Four might like that more than I will, so I shove it over towards them and retrieve some meat pie instead. I slice off a big piece and toss it onto my plate.

The pie is scorching hot, but delicious. I have seconds and then thirds, which doesn't leave much pie for anyone else. They should've been faster, I think, wiping off my lips with a cloth napkin. Not my problem.

I'm one of the first finished, so I lean on my elbow and watch the others. Ivory and Waverly both pick at their food delicately while Isis shovels hers into her mouth. Bain isn't a heavy eater, but Alder eats like it's his last day on earth. No, that's not today, I think. He's got about a week left, I'd guess. He might even make it to the final two! Actually… nah, he won't. If any of us does, it'll be Ivory with my luck.

Waverly catches me looking at her and winks. "See anything you like, big boy?"

"Hell yes," I respond, grinning seductively. That's more like it. It's me she should be interested in, not Bain the fish boy.

But Bain the fish boy is looking up now, observing us with his eyes slightly narrowed. Waverly looks at him immediately. "You see things you like when you look at me too, right Bain?"

"O-of course! You're l-l-lovely!"

She giggles, and lunges forward suddenly, catching him in an impromptu hug. Her face tilts up and she presses her perfect lips against his cheek.

I've never seen a person get quite so red. Bain stammers out something unintelligible and looks down at his lap, face burning. What the fuck? I think. I'm sitting right here and she goes and kisses that moron? Why would she even be interested in him with me around?!

"Ooh," Isis is saying, waving her fork around in the air. "Look at you, my knight. It seems like you've gotten yourself a princess!"

Waverly flutters her eyelashes. "Am I the princess?"

"You bet your buttons you are!"

Alder has finished eating, and lays down his fork. "Are you two dating?" he asks seriously. "Good for you!"

Bain doesn't say anything. His lips flop around uselessly. Waverly is forced to answer for the both of them. "No, we're not dating," she says, waving her hand. "I mean, this is the Hunger Games, right? I don't think it's the right time." Her eyes go misty. "But if we weren't in the Hunger Games… Who knows?"

I've had enough. "Seriously? You'd date him?"

Waverly blinks. "Well, why not? He's nice and never ogles me or tries to grab me. And I've dated, like, a lot of people in the past so I think I should know who'd make a good boyfriend."

Bain tugs on his collar and attempts to subtly gasp for air. "You'd date… No, you're joking? R-right, Waverly? Right?"

Waverly turns to him. "I'm like a billion percent serious," she says, sliding closer to him on the bench. "Why? Do you want proof? I could give you proof." She smiles coquettishly and runs her hand along the side of his face. Bain's dark blue eyes are locked onto her green ones. He doesn't move as she leans in, pauses as though waiting for his reaction, and then presses her lips very softly to his own.

She pulls away after less than a second, smiling triumphantly. "There," she says. "Proof!"

Alder and Isis share a look before applauding madly. "Bravo, bravo!" Isis calls, and Alder keeps on wolf-whistling. Ivory rolls her eyes and begins eating again, apparently not even remotely interested. I roll my eyes too and cross my arms, looking away pointedly.

I can still hear Bain, however. "Wow," he whispers, uncertainly. It's obvious he's never been kissed before, and that makes me grin to myself. What a moron, I think. Isn't it obvious that Waverly's a gigantic hoe? She's probably just doing this for laughs or whatever. That still doesn't change the fact that I'm the one she should want to kiss, though…

Ivory clears her throat. "Alder?" she asks quietly. "Would you pass me the mushrooms?"

"Sure thing," says Alder, picking up the bowl and sliding it towards Ivory. "Saucy mushrooms for a saucy lady." He winks.

Ivory takes the bowl and spoons some mushrooms onto her plate. "Are we all pairing up now?" she asks wryly. "If so, it looks as though that leaves you with Gander, Isis."

"The Mighty Leader? I don't think I can handle him!" Isis crows.

"Baby, I'd handle you anytime you wanted," I murmur, relieved to finally be getting some action of my own. In the corner of my eye I can see Ivory gagging slightly, but ignore her. She's such a boring prude.

The bell from earlier is ringing again, dismissing us tributes back to our training. I get up first and yawn, cracking my knuckles. Forget it, I don't give a shit if Waverly and Bain are all lovey-dovey and Ivory is a hateful little bitch. They're all going to die, anyway. They're all going to die and I'm going to win. I can't forget that.

Stin Jenkins, 16

District Eleven

"You're doin' great," the trainer yawns, glancing at his watch. I can understand his motivations; we have fifteen minutes left before the training gym will close up for the day. I think I've got enough time for this, I think, looping a knot around the stick that is supposed to serve as a tree branch. Biting my tongue slightly, I ease the bait underneath my trap. "The bait" in this case is a small knife, something that any unarmed tribute would want to grab immediately. In doing so, they would trigger the trap instantly. Their legs would be pinned together and they would be pulled, upside-down, into the air. It wouldn't kill them, but it'd slow them down long enough for me to show up and finish the job.

The thought of killing someone pisses me off, to be honest. It's total bull that we, a bunch of kids, have to kill a bunch of other kids if we want to live. I want to live, but the last thing I want is to be a murderer. I'm just teaching myself this because I might need to know it eventually, I think, and because what the hell, it's kinda fun. Making traps is almost like a puzzle that I can solve, the only difference being that this type of puzzle means death for anyone who can't solve it.

I am the only one working with snares. I take this to be a good thing. If I'm the only one that understands how to build traps like this, then they might actually work. That's certainly encouraging! Plus, even if they don't work, nobody else will know. So there's no shame in screwing up!

My trap seems complete, so I sit back and admire my work for a moment. "This seem done to you?" I ask the trainer, even though I'm well aware that it is, in fact, done.

He glances up from his magazine. "Sure thing, kid. Why don't you try it out?"

"On myself?" I grimace. "Geez. What'd I ever do to you?"

He rolls his eyes. "Ha-ha, real funny." Then he reaches under the table for what looks like a partridge made out of cloth and stuffed with something soft. He pushes it towards the knife and the two objects collide.

Instantly, the noose tightens around the fat bird's body and it is yanked into the air. The knife clatters against the table and I draw back my fingers in the nick of time. "Well," says the trainer, "ya did it. Congrats." He pulls the partridge out of the noose. "Now go do something else."

"Yessir," I respond, although I roll my brown eyes. Rude.

I doubt there's anything I'll be able to do in fifteen, now ten, minutes, so I begin to wander towards the doors. A lot of tributes have left already; most of the Careers are gone, and some of the more confident tributes have also abandoned the training gym. As I begin to stroll towards the exit, I notice the two from Twelve hurrying towards me. I'm a bit surprised (neither of them tried to talk to me earlier) but I slow down and wait for them to catch up.

"Hi," the girl says, once she and her district partner are standing in front of me. Both are slightly out of breath, as though they sprinted in order to reach me before I left. "I'm Flywheel," the girl says breathlessly.

"And I'm Terance," the boy adds, giving me a small, awkward grin.

"It looks like it's my turn to introduce myself," I say. "I'm Stin. Nice to meet you, my dear and dashing duo of Twelve."

Flywheel smiles. "Nice to meet you, too," she says.

"So what brings the two of you over here? Come to comment on my charming nature or good looks?"

"Actually," says Flywheel, "I want to know if you're interested in an alliance."

The way she says it so bluntly rather shocks me. I don't know what to say, so I'm relieved when Flywheel continues. "We waited until the Careers were gone," she says. "We don't want to attract too much attention. But Terance and I had this idea." From the way Terance flushes, he probably had no part in the idea, but it's nice of Flywheel to include him. "We were thinking of starting up our own big alliance," she explains. "Maybe with the other outer tributes, like from Ten and Eleven. So we thought we'd ask you. Are you interested?"

I'm very interested. I always figured that I'd be a part of a big alliance if I ever did get reaped. I'm a social person, and the idea of being trapped in an arena with no one watching my back unnerves me more than I can say. Can I trust these two? I think, looking at them. Then I feel dumb for even considering it. Look at them. I doubt there's an untrustworthy bone in either of their bodies. They could be incredible actors, but I don't see why they would even ask for an alliance with me if they were only planning on betraying it. That's a Career thing to do, and none of us are Careers.

"Can my district partner be in it?" I ask. I'm not going to be a part of this if they try to exclude Acacia.

"Definitely," says Flywheel. "We need as many tributes as we can get."

I rub my hands together. "Then count me in, my fortuitous and fantastic friends from Twelve! Shall we spit and shake?" I extend my hand, and wink.

Flywheel grimaces. Terance seems a bit pout out when she rejects my offer, as though he wouldn't particularly mind spitting and shaking. Well, boys probably understand that tradition better.

"Shall we find Acacia?" I ask. "Although if she's at the very top off one of those nets, I'm not planning on going up there."

"She's right there," says Terance, pointing. Flywheel and I turn in the direction he's pointed out to see Acacia pulling back a bowstring, arrow notched and ready. At the exact moment she's about to let it fly, I take a step forward.

"Acacia!" She yelps, twists the bow, and misses the shot completely. It sinks into the wall next to the dummy. I shake my head. "Aiming for a wall? What'd it do to you?"

Acacia lets out a quiet laugh which turns uncomfortable when she realizes that other tributes are with me. "Hi," she says, obviously uncertain.

I let Flywheel take it from here, as she explains her plan to my district partner. Midway through the speech, I look at Acacia's uncomfortable face and the way she fiddles with her bow, plucking at the string. She doesn't want this, I realize, shocked. Why would she not want this? This is perfect!

She explains herself a moment later. "I'm really sorry," she says, and she sounds truly genuine. "But… this alliance is way too big for me. I don't want to draw attention to myself." She looks at the ground. "I'm sorry…"

Everyone looks at me; she's my district partner, if anything I should try to convince her. I consider putting a hand on her shoulder, but that would only make her uncomfortable. Desperately I try to conjure up words that will make her change her mind, but nothing comes. We just met, I think, although I feel awful for thinking it. We don't really know each other, and I don't think she opens up to people very easily. Why should she care about an alliance with me? If I try to force her, she'll dislike me for it and the last thing I need is an enemy in the arena.

"Okay," I say. "If that's what you want then I'm behind it a hundred percent, Miss Rhodo-dodendron. But there'll always be a place for you with us." I look to Flywheel and Terance for confirmation.

"Right!" says Flywheel, and Terance nods firmly.

Acacia excuses herself to head back to our floor. Even though I'll see her there, I feel like she's walking away from us for good. The melancholy lasts as we walk over to the girl from Ten, who is currently at the weight training station, attempting in vain to pick up a fifty pound weight. When she sees us approaching, she gives up with the weight and analyzes us, dark brown eyes narrowed.

As it seems that Flywheel is the leader of our little group, I step back to let her do the talking. "Hi!" she says, although she wilts slightly under the girl's stare. "My name is Flywheel."

"I'm Mallory," the Ten girl responds, finally letting up with her stare. "Mallory Atella. It's a pleasure." She directs the last at all three of us.

"I'm Terance," says Terance. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Miss Mallory. My name is Stin." I give her a short, gentlemanly bow.

Flywheel immediately launches into her recruitment speech, probably hoping that if she does it quickly enough Mallory won't be able to find a problem with it. By the end of it, Mallory is biting on her lip slightly. She looks from Terance to Flywheel to me, and back again, all while the three of us wait awkwardly.

"Terance," she says, looking at him. "Please be honest with me. Are you going to help me or hinder me in the arena?"

His grey eyes widen. "Um," he says. "H-help you, I guess…"

For a moment, Mallory doesn't say anything. "Good," she says finally. "I believe that the rest of you will make for good allies, and as long as you are an asset, Terance, then I accept." She nods once and extends her hand to Flywheel. "You're the leader of this alliance, I suppose?"

It's clear that Flywheel hasn't been thinking about that. "I guess I am," she says faintly.

"Shall we shake on it?"

"A-alright." Flywheel takes Mallory's hand and shakes it firmly. "Good. We're a team now." She sounds undeniably proud of the success of her alliance thus far. "So," Flywheel continues. "Your district partner. Do you think he might be interested in joining us?"

Mallory shakes her head. "He told me earlier today that he isn't interested in allying himself with anyone," she tells us. "I don't think that's such a bad thing, actually. He's extremely hotheaded. He would have the entire Career alliance on our tails by day two."

"Ah," says Flywheel. "So that's a no, then?"

"I'm afraid so," says Mallory. She glances around. "Is there anyone else you want to join us? I think this alliance is bordering on too large. Any more people and we might attract the notice of the Careers, and we don't need that early on."

"It's enough," says Flywheel. She still seems proud of herself. "So that's that, everyone? Shall we head upstairs?"

As the four of us head to the elevators, I reflect on the choice I've made. I don't think there are any downsides to this. Mallory seems very smart and a good asset to have. Flywheel and Terance… I don't know how much help they'll be, but if they're watching my back then I'm glad to have them. This is good, I think. This is going to work out.

Of course, if I want to win, all of these people will have to die. But I'd rather not think about that.