Sneak Peek of chapter 6
(1/2 complete)
That night my sleep was filled with nightmares. Vivid, horrific, nightmares. Each one of them somehow results in the death of Katniss. Some people would think that merely dreaming of dying in the Games would be a nightmare, but not for me. If I die, that’s just one less person standing in the way of Katniss winning. However, if I die, I cannot protect her. The worst of the dreams involved that large, muscular boy from district 2. Katniss and I are allies, we are traveling through a desert area, there’s no tree’s in this biome so we are hopeless when it comes to hiding. When the district 2 boy comes out of know where ready to fight. I try to protect Katniss but he slashes at my stomach. Then, he kills her. Brutally, and mercilessly. I am still alive to watch it.
I am overwhelmingly relieved to wake up in a bed, and realize it was all just a dream. Today begins our training. I get up and head to the shower. I take showers as often as I can here. Rye was right, they are the best part between here and back home. I let the water run through my hair and down my back and then I shut the water off and step out. I notice there is an outfit laid out for me for training. Black pants, a long sleeved burgundy shirt, and leather boots. I get into my training outfit and exit my room.
I meet Haymitch at the top of the stairs. He, too, heading to breakfast. When we get to the dining room Katniss is already sitting down and dipping picking off pieces of bread rolls and dipping them into a mug of hot chocolate.
“Good morning.” I say nicely. She simply nods. No response.
“So, let’s cut to the chase. Training. First, I can coach you separately, if you like. Your call.” Haymitch addresses Katniss and I.
“Why would you do that?” Katniss asks confused.
“Well, let’s say you had some kind of secret skill or something, and you didn’t want your opponent to know about it.” I respond to this,
“Well, I don’t have one. And I already knows Katniss’s, right? I mean, I’ve eaten enough of your squirrels to know that you are killer with a bow and arrow. So what have we got to lose?” She looks at me for a minute and then says,
“You can coach us together.” I nod.
“Give me an idea of what you can do.” Haymitch tells us. I know right away what my answer will be.
“I can’t do anything. Unless you count baking bread or decorating cakes.”
“No, I don’t, sorry,” Haymitch says, “Katniss. I already know you are handy with a knife.”
“Not really. I hunt. With a bow and arrow.” She responds.
“And you’re good?” Katniss doesn’t respond right away and I know she’s going to be modest.
“I’m alright.” She says, but I elaborate.
“She’s incredible. My family has been buying her squirrels for years. My fathers says she hits them in the eye, every time. She can even bring down a deer.” She looks flattered and somewhat surprised, but she knows I’m speaking the truth. She has to. She looks at my confusedly and asks,
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing? He wants to help you. How can he, if you underrate yourself. He needs to know your skills in reality.” I tell her back. How does she stand a chance of Haymitch helping her, if she can’t even tell me her own skills?
“Well, what about you? I’ve watched you in the market, you can lift hundred-pound bags of flour. Why don’t you tell him that?” She snaps at me. Is she joking? So what if I can lift a hundred-pound sack of flower? What good will that do me?
“What use is that, Katniss? I’m sure the arena will be full of flour bags for me to throw at people. It’s not like you an your bow, it’s just not.” I sigh. My chances are so low, but I don’t even care anymore. I have to remember that. The games isn’t about winning, anymore. It’s about keeping Katniss safe. Nothing more.
“He can also wrestle,” Katniss continues to Haymitch. “He got second place in our school competition last year, after his brother.”
“And again, what good is that? How many times have you seen someone be wrestled to death?” I ask angrily. Let’s just face it: I don’t have many skills.
“Peeta! There’s always hand-to-hand combat. If you find a knife, you’ll be just find. If I get jumped, I’ll be dead!” She yells at me. She sounds so angry, so frustrated. Katniss isn’t exactly the most outgoing and happy person in the world, but I’ve never quite seen her this angry, either. I burst out,
“But that’s not true! You’ll probably be up in some tree, eating squirrels, shooting people the back with your arrows, and actually standing a chance. You know what my mother said? That maybe this year, District 12 will have a winner. But she didn’t mean me, Katniss! She meant you!” Without even considering it, she immediately replies,
“She meant you.”
“No, she didn’t, Katniss. She said to me, ‘She’s a survivor, that one.’ And you are! You stand a much better chance than me.” She looks shocked. What, like she didn’t know she was better than me? She’s so much better than me...what is she thinking? Then she mumbles quietly,
“But only because someone helped me.” And for a minute we are both silent. The day in the rain. The day my mother hit me. The memories are overwhelming me, and the flashback is vivid. She was wearing her father’s leather hunting jacket, and she looked ill. Much skinnier than she does now, which is still pretty hard to beat. She still had that long, beautiful braid down her back, and the look of emptiness in her green eyes. To avoid the awkwardness, I respond,
“Of course. People will help you in the arena. They’ll be fighting over who gets to sponsor you.”
“No more than you.” I roll my eyes at Haymitch and say,
“She has no idea. The effect she can have.” I just look down and trace my finger in circles on the edge of the dining room table, refusing to make eye contact with her. We both just sit there in silence, not looking at each other, not saying one word. After what feels like forever, Haymitch speaks up,
“Well, well, well. Katniss, I can’t promise you there will be bows, but even so, during your private session with the Gamemakers, make sure you show them what you can do. Until then, though, steer clear of archery. Are you good at trapping?”
“I know a few snares. Only basic ones, though.” He nods his head and then says,
“It could be very helpful, in terms of finding food. And Peeta,” he addresses me. “She’ right. You should never underestimate strength in the Games. Physical power could put the odds in your favor. But in the training center, even though there will be weights, don’t show your strength too much. Learn something you don’t know. Throw a spear, tie a knot, do whatever you can. But save your skills until the private sessions. We clear?” Katniss and I nod.
“Oh, and one last thing. In public, I want you to be by each other’s side every minute.”
“But, Haymit--” Katniss and I object.
“Every minute, you hear me? This is not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I say, and now you will. You will appear friendly with each other. Now, go. You’ll need to meet Effie at the elevator at ten o’clock. Then your training will begin.” That’s all he says, then he walks out. Katniss looks furious.
“Katniss, it’s not that bad. It’s just pretend, and we don’t have to talk or anything.” I try to reassure her. She just gives me a hard look, and the stalks up the stairs, biting her lip and clenching her fists. It is impossible to read her mind.
I don’t know why Katniss is so upset by it, but I don’t mind it. But then again, of course I wouldn’t mind spending every waking moment with Katniss Everdeen.
I wonder how Katniss sees all of this. Katniss and I, the great pretenders. It may be make believe for her, but it’s real for me. I can’t help but think about the conversation with Haymitch and what she said about me. What was her angle, talking me up like that? Telling Haymitch of my talents, like the wrestling. And the flour. As much as I loved to see her admiration in me, I felt a slight twinge of humiliation as I remember Haymitch’s face. So what if I can throw a hundred pound sack of flour over my head? What good will that do me in the Games? Strength isn’t everything, especially not in a fight to the death with someone as built as the boy from district 2. But I have to wonder, how did Katniss even know all of that? I didn’t even realize she thought about me, let alone remembered things like that.
I quickly glance over at the digital clock on the end table by my bed. It’s almost ten o’clock. Time to meet Effie at the elevator and head to the training center. I look in the mirror. My hair is a bit messy, but that’s just how I like it. I open my mouth slightly and check for any pieces of food stuck in between my teeth. After making sure I’m presentable, I head out of my quarters, down the stairs, through the hall, and to the elevator, where I see Effie waiting for me.
“Peeta! There you are! You look wonderful, as always. Where’s Katniss? We don’t want to be late now, do we?” She says enthusiastic as always.
“Thank you. I dunno, I didn’t see her on my way down. She must be getting ready. I’m sure she will be here soon.”
And just like I said, after a few moments Katniss approaches Effie and I. The three of us enter the elevator, and the quick ride to the training center is silent. The training rooms are located below the ground floor of our building. The elevator moves so quickly that we are there within a minute. The elevator dings, and the doors slowly open to reveal a large gymnasium full of weapons and obstacle courses. There is a large clock on the wall, and I notice it is only 9:55 and yet we are still the last of the tributes to arrive. Katniss looks around at the other tributes, studying them. She looks down at herself for a moment and then to me, and she sighs. I wonder what she’s upset about now, but then I see it. Katniss and I are the only ones wearing matching training gear. I’m sure this whole “star-crossed lovers” or whatever it is they are calling us scandal is embarrassing. I feel my cheeks flush red. Me, an embarrassment to Katniss Everdeen. That’s all I’ll ever be to her.
Soon we are all gathered to circle up in the center of the gym. When the last tributes join the circle, our trainer, a tall and athletic woman, begins to tell us about the rules of training. She starts by introducing herself.
“Good morning, boys and girls. I am Atala. I will be your trainer. Around you you will see several stations, each one specializing in different survival and combat tactics and strategies. You may move at your own pace, choose which ever ones you think you need most. Each station will have an expert in that field. I urge you to ask questions and become well acquainted with them; they know what they are talking about,” Atala goes on and on and my mind starts to wander for a moment. I see Katniss out of the corner of my eye. Her fingers fondling the end of her braid, her face in what seems to be a scowl. She must be deep in thought.
“There will be no fighting with the other tributes during your training exercises, even if it is just practice. There will be plenty of time for that in the arena. My advice for you today is to take in as much new knowledge and skills as you can, and don’t ignore the survival skills. Any questions?” Atala concludes. When no one moves a muscle she gives us the queue to head to the stations and begin our training.
I want to get started right away, so I head across the gym to find Katniss, scanning the perimeter. When she doesn’t say anything I nudge her arm lightly.
“So where do you want to start?” I ask.
“Oh. Um. I guess we could tie some knots.”
Knots. Great. Just what I want to waste my training time on. Couldn’t she have said something a little more strategic and time worthy, like knife throwing or spear training?
“You got it,” is all I say in return.
She leads us over to a virtually empty station. The trainer looks pleased to have someone to work with. He teaches us how to create and use a simple, but effective, snare. This never really was my cup of tea, but it’s nice to watch Katniss’ face. She seems so interested. So focused. It’s fascinating to me. We spend an hour mastering this skill, and then we move on to camouflage, per my request. This station interests me. It reminds me of being back at home decorating the cakes. I mix the mud and berry juice and make a thick paste, which I then use to draw camouflage on my arm. I’m making my arm to blend in with a tree.
“Wow. That’s really impressive. How do you do that?” Katniss gawks at me. This makes me blush.
“It’s from the cakes, I think. That’s why I’m so good at it.” I blush again, this time out of embarrassment. I didn’t mean to sound arrogant.
“Well, it’s lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.” She lets out a hearty laugh after this. She’s so beautiful when she smiles. I wish she would look happy more often. I hate seeing her so emotionless, so sad. I laugh, too.
“Oh, stop it. Don’t be so superior. You never know what you’ll find in the arena. For all you know, the arena could just be a giant cake.”
“Let’s move to a new station.” Katniss says without a grin. Failed attempt at making her laugh number one. We move on to the next station.
We continue our training for the next 3 days, moving throughout the different stations, always sticking together. We are the only district to stay together as a team.
I am overwhelmingly relieved to wake up in a bed, and realize it was all just a dream. Today begins our training. I get up and head to the shower. I take showers as often as I can here. Rye was right, they are the best part between here and back home. I let the water run through my hair and down my back and then I shut the water off and step out. I notice there is an outfit laid out for me for training. Black pants, a long sleeved burgundy shirt, and leather boots. I get into my training outfit and exit my room.
I meet Haymitch at the top of the stairs. He, too, heading to breakfast. When we get to the dining room Katniss is already sitting down and dipping picking off pieces of bread rolls and dipping them into a mug of hot chocolate.
“Good morning.” I say nicely. She simply nods. No response.
“So, let’s cut to the chase. Training. First, I can coach you separately, if you like. Your call.” Haymitch addresses Katniss and I.
“Why would you do that?” Katniss asks confused.
“Well, let’s say you had some kind of secret skill or something, and you didn’t want your opponent to know about it.” I respond to this,
“Well, I don’t have one. And I already knows Katniss’s, right? I mean, I’ve eaten enough of your squirrels to know that you are killer with a bow and arrow. So what have we got to lose?” She looks at me for a minute and then says,
“You can coach us together.” I nod.
“Give me an idea of what you can do.” Haymitch tells us. I know right away what my answer will be.
“I can’t do anything. Unless you count baking bread or decorating cakes.”
“No, I don’t, sorry,” Haymitch says, “Katniss. I already know you are handy with a knife.”
“Not really. I hunt. With a bow and arrow.” She responds.
“And you’re good?” Katniss doesn’t respond right away and I know she’s going to be modest.
“I’m alright.” She says, but I elaborate.
“She’s incredible. My family has been buying her squirrels for years. My fathers says she hits them in the eye, every time. She can even bring down a deer.” She looks flattered and somewhat surprised, but she knows I’m speaking the truth. She has to. She looks at my confusedly and asks,
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing? He wants to help you. How can he, if you underrate yourself. He needs to know your skills in reality.” I tell her back. How does she stand a chance of Haymitch helping her, if she can’t even tell me her own skills?
“Well, what about you? I’ve watched you in the market, you can lift hundred-pound bags of flour. Why don’t you tell him that?” She snaps at me. Is she joking? So what if I can lift a hundred-pound sack of flower? What good will that do me?
“What use is that, Katniss? I’m sure the arena will be full of flour bags for me to throw at people. It’s not like you an your bow, it’s just not.” I sigh. My chances are so low, but I don’t even care anymore. I have to remember that. The games isn’t about winning, anymore. It’s about keeping Katniss safe. Nothing more.
“He can also wrestle,” Katniss continues to Haymitch. “He got second place in our school competition last year, after his brother.”
“And again, what good is that? How many times have you seen someone be wrestled to death?” I ask angrily. Let’s just face it: I don’t have many skills.
“Peeta! There’s always hand-to-hand combat. If you find a knife, you’ll be just find. If I get jumped, I’ll be dead!” She yells at me. She sounds so angry, so frustrated. Katniss isn’t exactly the most outgoing and happy person in the world, but I’ve never quite seen her this angry, either. I burst out,
“But that’s not true! You’ll probably be up in some tree, eating squirrels, shooting people the back with your arrows, and actually standing a chance. You know what my mother said? That maybe this year, District 12 will have a winner. But she didn’t mean me, Katniss! She meant you!” Without even considering it, she immediately replies,
“She meant you.”
“No, she didn’t, Katniss. She said to me, ‘She’s a survivor, that one.’ And you are! You stand a much better chance than me.” She looks shocked. What, like she didn’t know she was better than me? She’s so much better than me...what is she thinking? Then she mumbles quietly,
“But only because someone helped me.” And for a minute we are both silent. The day in the rain. The day my mother hit me. The memories are overwhelming me, and the flashback is vivid. She was wearing her father’s leather hunting jacket, and she looked ill. Much skinnier than she does now, which is still pretty hard to beat. She still had that long, beautiful braid down her back, and the look of emptiness in her green eyes. To avoid the awkwardness, I respond,
“Of course. People will help you in the arena. They’ll be fighting over who gets to sponsor you.”
“No more than you.” I roll my eyes at Haymitch and say,
“She has no idea. The effect she can have.” I just look down and trace my finger in circles on the edge of the dining room table, refusing to make eye contact with her. We both just sit there in silence, not looking at each other, not saying one word. After what feels like forever, Haymitch speaks up,
“Well, well, well. Katniss, I can’t promise you there will be bows, but even so, during your private session with the Gamemakers, make sure you show them what you can do. Until then, though, steer clear of archery. Are you good at trapping?”
“I know a few snares. Only basic ones, though.” He nods his head and then says,
“It could be very helpful, in terms of finding food. And Peeta,” he addresses me. “She’ right. You should never underestimate strength in the Games. Physical power could put the odds in your favor. But in the training center, even though there will be weights, don’t show your strength too much. Learn something you don’t know. Throw a spear, tie a knot, do whatever you can. But save your skills until the private sessions. We clear?” Katniss and I nod.
“Oh, and one last thing. In public, I want you to be by each other’s side every minute.”
“But, Haymit--” Katniss and I object.
“Every minute, you hear me? This is not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I say, and now you will. You will appear friendly with each other. Now, go. You’ll need to meet Effie at the elevator at ten o’clock. Then your training will begin.” That’s all he says, then he walks out. Katniss looks furious.
“Katniss, it’s not that bad. It’s just pretend, and we don’t have to talk or anything.” I try to reassure her. She just gives me a hard look, and the stalks up the stairs, biting her lip and clenching her fists. It is impossible to read her mind.
I don’t know why Katniss is so upset by it, but I don’t mind it. But then again, of course I wouldn’t mind spending every waking moment with Katniss Everdeen.
I wonder how Katniss sees all of this. Katniss and I, the great pretenders. It may be make believe for her, but it’s real for me. I can’t help but think about the conversation with Haymitch and what she said about me. What was her angle, talking me up like that? Telling Haymitch of my talents, like the wrestling. And the flour. As much as I loved to see her admiration in me, I felt a slight twinge of humiliation as I remember Haymitch’s face. So what if I can throw a hundred pound sack of flour over my head? What good will that do me in the Games? Strength isn’t everything, especially not in a fight to the death with someone as built as the boy from district 2. But I have to wonder, how did Katniss even know all of that? I didn’t even realize she thought about me, let alone remembered things like that.
I quickly glance over at the digital clock on the end table by my bed. It’s almost ten o’clock. Time to meet Effie at the elevator and head to the training center. I look in the mirror. My hair is a bit messy, but that’s just how I like it. I open my mouth slightly and check for any pieces of food stuck in between my teeth. After making sure I’m presentable, I head out of my quarters, down the stairs, through the hall, and to the elevator, where I see Effie waiting for me.
“Peeta! There you are! You look wonderful, as always. Where’s Katniss? We don’t want to be late now, do we?” She says enthusiastic as always.
“Thank you. I dunno, I didn’t see her on my way down. She must be getting ready. I’m sure she will be here soon.”
And just like I said, after a few moments Katniss approaches Effie and I. The three of us enter the elevator, and the quick ride to the training center is silent. The training rooms are located below the ground floor of our building. The elevator moves so quickly that we are there within a minute. The elevator dings, and the doors slowly open to reveal a large gymnasium full of weapons and obstacle courses. There is a large clock on the wall, and I notice it is only 9:55 and yet we are still the last of the tributes to arrive. Katniss looks around at the other tributes, studying them. She looks down at herself for a moment and then to me, and she sighs. I wonder what she’s upset about now, but then I see it. Katniss and I are the only ones wearing matching training gear. I’m sure this whole “star-crossed lovers” or whatever it is they are calling us scandal is embarrassing. I feel my cheeks flush red. Me, an embarrassment to Katniss Everdeen. That’s all I’ll ever be to her.
Soon we are all gathered to circle up in the center of the gym. When the last tributes join the circle, our trainer, a tall and athletic woman, begins to tell us about the rules of training. She starts by introducing herself.
“Good morning, boys and girls. I am Atala. I will be your trainer. Around you you will see several stations, each one specializing in different survival and combat tactics and strategies. You may move at your own pace, choose which ever ones you think you need most. Each station will have an expert in that field. I urge you to ask questions and become well acquainted with them; they know what they are talking about,” Atala goes on and on and my mind starts to wander for a moment. I see Katniss out of the corner of my eye. Her fingers fondling the end of her braid, her face in what seems to be a scowl. She must be deep in thought.
“There will be no fighting with the other tributes during your training exercises, even if it is just practice. There will be plenty of time for that in the arena. My advice for you today is to take in as much new knowledge and skills as you can, and don’t ignore the survival skills. Any questions?” Atala concludes. When no one moves a muscle she gives us the queue to head to the stations and begin our training.
I want to get started right away, so I head across the gym to find Katniss, scanning the perimeter. When she doesn’t say anything I nudge her arm lightly.
“So where do you want to start?” I ask.
“Oh. Um. I guess we could tie some knots.”
Knots. Great. Just what I want to waste my training time on. Couldn’t she have said something a little more strategic and time worthy, like knife throwing or spear training?
“You got it,” is all I say in return.
She leads us over to a virtually empty station. The trainer looks pleased to have someone to work with. He teaches us how to create and use a simple, but effective, snare. This never really was my cup of tea, but it’s nice to watch Katniss’ face. She seems so interested. So focused. It’s fascinating to me. We spend an hour mastering this skill, and then we move on to camouflage, per my request. This station interests me. It reminds me of being back at home decorating the cakes. I mix the mud and berry juice and make a thick paste, which I then use to draw camouflage on my arm. I’m making my arm to blend in with a tree.
“Wow. That’s really impressive. How do you do that?” Katniss gawks at me. This makes me blush.
“It’s from the cakes, I think. That’s why I’m so good at it.” I blush again, this time out of embarrassment. I didn’t mean to sound arrogant.
“Well, it’s lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.” She lets out a hearty laugh after this. She’s so beautiful when she smiles. I wish she would look happy more often. I hate seeing her so emotionless, so sad. I laugh, too.
“Oh, stop it. Don’t be so superior. You never know what you’ll find in the arena. For all you know, the arena could just be a giant cake.”
“Let’s move to a new station.” Katniss says without a grin. Failed attempt at making her laugh number one. We move on to the next station.
We continue our training for the next 3 days, moving throughout the different stations, always sticking together. We are the only district to stay together as a team.