Chapter Four, Training

❝ you may think you're winning ❞

❝ but checkmate. ❞

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I CAN'T HELP BUT  feel extremely nervous about the training. For three consecutive days, all tributes practise together in a gymnasium, showing off their skills. Or not. The fact I'm going to have to face all my enemies in a crowded room makes me queasy all over.

Haymitch tells us to keep low profile. I am forbidden from even looking at the display of knives or doing anything that might turn me into a potential threat.

The actual training rooms are below the ground of our building. With these elevators, the ride is less than a minute. The doors open into an enormous space filled with weapons, obstacle courses and more.

In the centre of the room is the head trainer, a tall and athletic woman named Atala that explains the different rules we have to follow.

"In two weeks, 23 of you will be dead. One of you will be alive." she starts, placing her hands onto her hips.

Looking around, my eyes meet Cato's. He gives me another smug smile, which this time I fail to return.

Instead, I dedicate my whole attention to the coach, failing to ignore my hammering heart. I appear emotionless, while the boy from District 2 looks at me with a predatory and chilling gaze.

Anger bubbles at my chest as I still feel his burning gaze imprinting itself on me. Who did he think he was?

Cato Hadley didn't intimidate me, not even for a second.

"Who survives depends on how well you pay attention on the following days, particularly to what I'm about to say."

"First, no fighting with the other tributes. You'll have plenty of time for that in the arena. There are four compulsory exercises, the next will be individual training. My advice is don't ignore the survival skills: everybody wants to grab a sword but most of you will die from natural causes, 10% from infection, 20% from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife" the trainer goes on, eyeing every single one of us.

After Atala's finished her speech, I directly head to an empty station where the trainer seems pleased to finally have a student. I come to the evident conclusion that learning knot-tying isn't top priority for the tributes here.

Nevertheless, I stay there for about an hour until I have completely mastered the skill. Then, I join Peeta in his camouflage class, where he mixes all colours in a swirl to match the leaves' and trees'. To my surprise, he's pretty good at it.

"I do the cakes" he admits to me.

"The cakes?" I ask, confused.

Truthfully, I was preoccupied carefully watching the boy from 2 cut off about five dummies' heads with his sword. He swung it around with perfect precision and dangerous talent.

Throughout his session, Cato sends me occasional winks and arrogant smirks that I was desperate to slap off his face.

"At home. The iced ones, for the bakery." he explains.

"It's lovely Peeta. Let's hope the arena is a big, giant cake, then all the odds will in fact be in your favour." I lightly joke, already feeling close enough to the boy to make fun of our situation.

"Yeah, or I'll just frost someone to death." he responds, shrugging.

"Fuck, that's definitely making you the deadliest tribute in here, I probably shouldn't even be talking you" I grin, suddenly acting frightened.

"Don't worry, I'll put you as last on my frost-kill list." Peeta says, in a grave tone.

That's when a giggle drops off my lips, entertained by the boy's jokes. However, our sweet moment is short-lived.

Indeed, Cato Hadley marches towards and aggressively grabs my district partner by the collar.

"You took my knife!" he screams. My eyes widen in horror as Cato pushes Peeta to the ground.

"It was right there, now where's my knife?" he yells, attracting everyone's attention onto us.

"I - I didn't take your knife" Peeta stutters. Clearly, this response has no effect on the boy whatsoever as he continues to threaten the innocent baker.

I had been paying attention to my partner's actions, and it was true, he didn't take Cato's knife. Yet again, I feel the gnawing need to defend Peeta against the arrogant boy, no matter the consequences.

"Hey, he said he didn't touch your knife, leave him alone!" I suddenly interject, standing between the two males.

Much to my displeasure, my face was barely an inch away from Cato's. For a second, none of us speak, simply staring at each other's eyes and the air becomes harder and harder to breathe in.

The tension grows until the boy takes a quick, nearly unnoticeable glance at my lips and chokes "Be careful 12, you don't know who the hell you're messing with."

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I plunge my fork into the well-done chunk of meat sitting on my plate when Haymitch begins the conversation after we've told me about the training incident.

"He's a career. You know what that is?" he questions, putting down his cutlery.

"From District 1 and 2" I mumble, anticipating the lecture I was going to receive.

"They're trained into a special arena until they're 18 so they can volunteer. And by that point, they're pretty lethal-" he starts, menacingly glaring at me.

"Yes, I'm aware of that, but I wasn't going to let him just mess with Peeta for no reason. I mean that guy thinks-" I interrupt, frustrated that Haymitch didn't take my side on this.

"Do you want to be the first to die in that arena?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.

"No." I retort, staring at my plate.

"Well, sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but you will if you continue to mess with the Careers, especially Cato Hadley." he answers, disappointment lacing his voice..

"But they don't receive any special treatment, in fact, they stay in the exact same building as you do. And I don't think they let them have desert... But you can!" Effie suddenly adds, smiling widely, breaking my focus on my mentor.

"That's great Effie." I dryly reply.

"So, how good are they?" Peeta asks.

"Obviously, they're pretty good. They win it almost every year, but they can be arrogant. And arrogance is a big problem... Right Jade?" Haymitch describes, raising his brow at me.

"There's a difference between arrogance and determination Haymitch, wouldn't expect you to know the difference considering you're barely conscious most of the time." I insist, feeling the need to win our petty argument.

A pause follow this, and to my surprise, my mentor's lips quirk up in delight.

"Well anyways, I'm glad I might have actually gotten a pair of fighters this year. Thank god, it was about time." Haymitch laughs. "So, what are both your skills?" he continues.

I'm slightly stunned at his sudden change of tone, but I go along, appreciating that the argument was over, and I wasn't to blame any more.

"I'm good with knives, I know my way around them pretty well. I can also handle swords, or machetes." I reply.

"She's not just good, she's excellent. My dad buys her squirrels, says she gets them right in the eye every single time." Peeta continues, sending me an encouraging smile.

My eyebrows curiously lift. Has he actually paid attention to me before the Reaping?

"Plus, she's won a hand-on-hand fights before." he says.

The mention of that event sends my head whipping in the boy's direction, not necessarily wanting that memory to flutter in my mind. It was only one time, at school, I awkwardly admit to myself.

A guy named Rain had decided to drown me in degrading comments when I refused to go out with him one day. I couldn't help it, I punched him in the face. Ended up breaking his nose and was excluded from school for a week.

"Hey, Peeta's got some skills too, he can lift really heavy bags of flour. Could be useful." I find myself intervening, trying to change subject of that nerving throw back.

"How's that going to help me?" he articulates, his angry tone throwing me off a little.

"Well, it says you're strong and-" I argue, before the boy interrupts me suddenly.

"Jade, I have no chance of winning! None! All right? It's true, everybody knows it. You know what my mother said? She said District 12 might finally have a winner this year, but she wasn't talking about me. She was talking about you" he loudly remarks, staring at me.

I peer down at the food on my plate, too humiliated to even answer, wondering how a mother could say that to her son.

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I take a deep breath, enjoying the peacefulness that lies on the edge of roof, my feet dangling in the air.

The chaos and stress of the last few days were slowly destroying me as I tried to forget what all these preparations are for. What truly awaited me at the end of these weeks. Where my life could possibly come to a tragic end.

I stare at the obsidian sky, realising it's the only thing that links District 12 and the Capitol. The only thing that links me to my family. Indeed, all of Panem was dominated by the same jet-black sky, void of any stars.

I peer at it, hoping Prim is doing okay without me, hoping Gale is taking care of her.

"What are you doing here?" I hear an unknown yet familiar voice demand from behind me. Turning around, my eyes set on Cato Hadley's imposing figure and killing smirk.

"Just killing time" I shrug, rolling my eyes while I turn my head back around, not even wanting to look at the boy for too long.

"Right, well, I'm pretty sure I found this roof first" he replies, and I feel his body advancing towards mine from behind me. My blood boils at his words, and I soon decide that I'm better off alone in my room than entertaining the Career boy.

"Didn't realise this was your roof, Hadley." I sarcastically strike back, "Anyways, I was about to leave. Have fun drooling about the murders you'll want to commit in that arena" I add, a smile stretching on my face when he seems at loss for words.

The Careers were known for taking cruel pleasure when ending the tributes, which made most of the Districts despise their guts. The simple fact I was talking to one right now sends chills running through my body.

"At least you remembered my name, Everdeen." I hear the boy state as I walk back towards the elevator, sighing in annoyance at his sentence

For some reason, the mention of my name dropping off his tongue triggers an emotion to curse though my veins ( most probably hatred )...