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e i g h t

| " A R G U E . " |

___♔___

I guess breakfast was super important the next morning, because I was woken up extra early.

"Ross, can I please go back to sleep?" I ask, rubbing my eyes.

"Nope." He says, throwing my training outfit at me. "Private sessions are tommorow, so you need to get to training early."

My eyes widen.

"Wait, so all of the tributes are going to the training center early?" I ask. If Ceneca sees all the tributes training early, he would probably think I told them about my morning training.

"Not exactly." Ross winks. "I know where you go every morning."

"W-what?" I question, and fake a look of confusion.

"You go to the training center early every morning. Ceneca Crane asked you to, correct?"

"How did you find out?" I huff.

"I know everything." He says, and shoves me in the bathroom. He locks the bathroom door after he exits. Is it really that obvious that I'm going to the training center every morning?

I guess so . . .

___♕___

With my normal schedule of leaving breakfast early, I head to the training center, being careful so that no one will see me. By now, all of the careers, mentors, and escorts are in my living quarters, discussing useless strategies.

I shove the doors open in a quiet manner, and walk over to the axes. I look right up at Ceneca, and a smile tugs at the edge of his mouth.

"What're you doing for private sessions tomorrow?" He asks.

"It's a secret." I point, and pick up two axes.

"I'm sure you'll impress." He pauses. "But before you get started with your axe throwing, we need to talk."

"About . . . ?" I trail off, and set the axes back on the weaponry table.

"Private sessions, of course."

"What about it?" I raise an eyebrow, still looking up at him.

"Your score." He replies.

"Okay, well I'm hoping it'll be pretty high." I shrug.

"I don't think that's necessary." He cuts in.

"What's not necessary? A high score?"

"Exactly." He snaps his fingers, and places his hands behind his back. "A higher score will only make you seem . . . stronger, more capable."

"I don't follow." I shake my head. "I have no idea what that means."

"It means that you need a medium score. Getting a twelve just means that people will watch out for you. If you get a medium score, people won't count you as a threat. They won't see it coming when you attack them." He fills me in.

"Oh." I say. "But the tributes already saw me train throughout our training."

"Very few did. They were more absorbed in learning things for their own survival."

"Won't I lose sponsors I my score is low?" I question.

"Nope. It only means they'll want to help you even more. So that makes even more pros."

"Yeah, but the careers will drop me from their alliance if they think I'm not eligible enough to survive and kill."

"No they won't. They've already saw you train, even the mentors. I've saw how many sponsors and fans you have, Taylor. They can't lose you just because of a few points." He assures.

"I don't have nearly as much as Katniss Everdeen." I sigh in agitation.

"So? If it makes her happy to have a high score, I'll give it to her. I'll give her the highest score, and I know for a fact that more tributes will go after her. They'll want to slaughter her because they think she's competition." He crosses his arms over his chest. "The careers all hate her. They'll want to kill her even more when they get lower skills than her. They'll be furious."

"Wow. Nice explanation." I compliment.

"You say 'wow' an awful lot." He chuckles.

"And you chuckle a lot." I roll my eyes. "Anything else?"

"Yes, actually."

"And that is . . . ?"

"Miss a couple of targets tomorrow, so the other gamemakers don't think I rigged the private sessions." He says.

"Okay." I nod, picking up an axe, and slinging it across the room. As it hits the forhead of the dummy, I turn back to Ceneca.

"You know what, Ceneca?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"Yes?"

"I think you want me to win the games." I send him a warm smile, and throw my last axe. As I turn to leave, and walk out the training center doors, I can see a grin on Ceneca's face.

The silence from him gave me a positive answer. The smile added onto my confidence.

Ceneca Crane, the head game maker, wants me to win the 74th Hunger Games.

___♕___

With a long day of training, I am finally back at living quarters, eating dinner with Cato, Zach, Glimmer, Clove, and Marvel. The mentors and escorts are currently in the back room, having a conversation about the games.

I sip my iced tea awkwardly as everyone else at the table is in a heated conversation.

"I bet Katniss will get a terrible score. She has so much pride in herself, and it'll be such a hilarious sight when she does bad at sessions." Clove smirks.

"I know, right?" Glimmer giggles. "She's sure to lose sponsors for the inconvenience of being strong enough to win."

"Look at her, guys. Who would even think that she has the capability of winning?" Zach rolls his eyes.

"Well, the pampered bafoons of the Capitol, of course." Marvel pipes, leaning back in his chair. Cato doesn't say anything, he just stares at the table as their talk keeps going.

I take a brief glance at Cato. From the look on his face, I can tell he's thinking about something pretty hard. But as he clears his thoughts, and looks up, his eyes lock with mine.

For a split second, I stare back at him, taking in his ocean blue eyes.

"Guys?" Marvel asks, snapping his fingers at us. I shake my head, and look over to Marvel.

"Yeah?" I ask. He takes turns looking at the two of us, then furrows his eyebrows.

"Nothing. We were just talking about interviews." He answers.

"Haven't we had enough talk about interviews?" I whine. "That's all we ever talk about."

"Yeah, but it's important." Clove says. "We have roles to play."

"Okay then . . . what are your roles?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Glimmer's gonna be flirty and perky, Marvel has taken the choice to be funny and himself, I'm gonna be deadly and sweet, and Cato's going to be charming and confident." Clove says quickly.

"Oh . . . " I trail off.

"I heard that Peeta likes Katniss." Marvel snarls.

"Yeah. So?" I roll my eyes.

"So? You hang out with him. You need to stop. He's probably just using you so he can help Katniss out."

"I seriously doubt that," I shrug, popping a grape into my mouth.

"How can you be so sure? Just because someone shows you kindness, doesn't mean that they're not using you." Zach states.

"Are you trying to hint something, Zachary? Is someone in this room using me?" I question furiously, standing up from the table.

"You know that's not what he meant," Cato says, grabbing my arm.

"You know what?" I grit my teeth, yanking my arm from Cato's harsh grip. "I don't care anymore." I say softly, staring at the floor. As I walk from the room, no one dares to come after me.

And I'm thankful for that.

I don't think I could bare it if any one of them saw me cry.

But then again, Cato and Zach have already.

___♕___

"Rise and shine, Tay." Ross says, jumping on the bed next to me, and poking my sides. I roll over, and pretend that he's not here.

"No more training, aren't you happy about that?" He asks. I don't reply. "C'mon, you have to get ready for sessions."

When I don't reply, he throws me over his shoulder, and carries me out of the room. I don't move, hoping that I could turn invisible. He sits me down in the bathroom, and throws my clothes at me, like he did yesterday morning.

I slip on my shirt, pants, shoes and socks, then head to the dining room. Today, I'll be able to stay for breakfast because training isn't allowed anymore. Did Ceneca plan for me to still go to the training center, even though sessions are today?

I sit in the chair next to Zach, and grab a piece of bacon along with some orange juice.

"Are you still mad at me for- you know -last night?" He asks, adding blueberries to the top of his chocolate chip pancakes. I shrug.

"That depends."

"On?"

"On who you were hinting at," I point out. "There has to be someone other than Peeta. I mean- it's like you were actually hinting to me that someone was/is using me."

"Well, I wasn't talking about anyone in particular..." He says, stabbing the pancakes with his fork.

"You need to tell me, Zach." I turn to face him.

"Why would I anyway?" He raises an eyebrow. "It's not like you'd believe me if I did tell you."

"Another argument between the two of you, I see," Stark sighs, and takes a seat on the couch.

"When do we not argue?" I question.

"As much as I've seen, you always argue. It's like a routine." He replies, turning on the television to Ceasar's talk show.

"We never did this back home." Zach murmers lowly. But I hear him. I frown to myself, but continue eating. A knock on the door echoes off of the walls, and an excited Heredia rushes to the door.

She primps her hair quickly, looking in a mirror that she holds in her hand. She places the mirror on a table, and opens the door with a warm smile.

"Hello, hello! It's so good to see you all again!" She says in her Capitol accent. Cato, Clove, Glimmer, and Marvel all stand in the hallway, looking at Heredia like she's a mutt in the arena- scared. Although, I do understand why they're scared. Heredia is pretty creepy, in her own little way.

"Um, yeah- good to see you too." Marvel says, furrowing his eyebrows while staring at her.

"Well, don't just stand there! Come on in, and make yourselves right at home." She steps to the side, and lets the careers come into our living quarters. Cato locks eyes with me, and I see the corner of his lips curl upwards. I turn my attention swiftly, and focus my eyes on the plate of food in front of me.

Seats are taken by the careers, and a brief glance of silence flows through all of us.

"Anyone nervous?" Glimmer asks, breaking our awkward stares.

"Nope." I say, popping the 'p.' I pick up a piece of toast, and smear some smooth grape jelly on it. "Seems like I'll do a pretty good job."

"Someone seems confident." Marvel elbows me from his seat next to me, giving me a slight smile.

"Of course I am." I lie. "I always have been." Cato looks at me, and raises an eyebrow, as if to remind me of my first time in the District two living quarters. That was the time I admitted to Cato that I was scared, and knew I wouldn't win.

I shrug at Cato, taking a bite of my toast. Glimmer and Clove begin eating, with Marvel and Cato following soon after.

Not even a small talk is started as everyone eats. I guess today isn't the day to have a fight or even a decent conversation. Maybe nerves are getting to all of us.

Or maybe it's just realization that most of us won't make it out of that arena, in three short days.

_______

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