Heart of Ice

Chapter 2

"I'm Mora, your mentor. Henry will be tutored by Blight." Mora places her hands on her hips and stares at me.

I'm suddenly aware of my red eyes and stuffy nose. But I've done that for a reason, and I need to keep up the facade. "Okay," I stutter.

"Do you even have a strategy?" she demands.

"Yeah." I sniff. "I do."

"Well, what is it?" she snaps. "So far you've done nothing but convince the world you're a crier. How the hell do you expect to get sponsors? If the crowd likes you, the Gamemakers are more likely to keep you alive. If you're seen as a weakling, you'll be ignored by them."

And the other tributes, I think. But I look at the floor, focusing my gaze on the fancy carpet. Maybe I could force lunch back up.

"Well?" Mora barks. Indignation fills her face at having such a useless tribute.

I don't answer, and she storms off.

I've probably just eliminated any chance at outside help during the Games. But that's what I was going for, right? To convince everyone I'm a weakling. In order to be convincing, I have to keep it up totally.

I start another round of sobbing on the couch, giving myself time to plan out my next moves. Appear sullen when the tears dry at dinner, and run off if I can.

The chariot rides will be tomorrow night, and I'll be sent to the Remake Center. Every painful tug will have to bring near tears, and I'll act frightened during the chariot rides. Intimidated during training the day after, and with a low score. Stricken with stage fright during interviews.

And in the arena? That's when I reveal my true self.

Dinner is dead silent. The only noise comes from the clinking of plates, and Aurelia does her best to avoid even that. I wonder if Blight and Henry can sense the tension.

"Let's watch the reaping recap, shall we?" says Aurelia as soon as the table is cleared. Various murmurs of agreement follow, and I nod.

I sit on the end of the couch, and stare at the floor as Aurelia turns on the TV. My eyes still feel somewhat swollen from the crying earlier.

Districts 1, 2, and 4 are the Career districts, and I'll have to watch out for them. The rest won't probably won't be an issue, but I'll see what happens in training.

From District 1 comes Roman and Hillari. They're twins with the same blond hair and tanned skin. They look like they've trained for this moment, and their faces are triumphant.

District 2 scrapes up another pair, Julia and Max. Julia is a slender brunette with a wicked gleam in her eye. Max overshadows her by far with his size, and he looks as if he's resisting the urge to smash something in glee from volunteering.

And from 4, we get Brooke and Jordin, a seemingly mediocre combination with sullen expressions. Maybe they won't be part of the team this time.

I go to bed soon after that, dodging any attempts at conversation. Willow probably won't sleep tonight, and it's not like Acacia would let her stay home from school tomorrow.

How red-eyed do I need to look in the morning? I start the waterworks again, sobbing myself to sleep.

***

Once in the Remake Center, I whine, complain, and annoy the hell out of my prep team. I'm fairly sure that they hate me by the time that they rush out, offering to go find my stylist.

And she comes in a few minutes later, and we eat lunch. Well, she eats lunch. I pick at my food, dying to dig in but wanting to seem sullen.

Argentia shows me my costume. Traditionally, you represent your district for the chariot rides. We chop lumber and make paper. So guess what my costume is?

A damn tree. Yes, very creative. Just like the last thirty-five years.

"Hold still. Someone grab more extensions."

My stylist is doing something with the choppy bits of my hair, twisting or braiding them back. Extensions fall down my back, and I wince with every tug. It doesn't really hurt, but once again, I must keep up appearances. It's getting repetitive, but I have to runs myself that this isn't really me.

A leafy headress. Fringe on my dress to look like roots. A butterfly clip in my hair. Argentia's obviously put work into this, but it's so overdone that it won't do me any favors. Probably a good thing, but I have to put up with all this primping.

I'm taken downstairs to wait with our mentors and Henry, our stylists complimenting each other. Henry wears an outfit similar to mine, but trousers instead of a skirt. Less makeup.

He smiles at me, and I return a wisp of one. He must know that I'm not being myself, that I'm not this weakling others are now perceiving me as. We did go to school together our entire lives. But has he told his mentor? Will I be his target?

No, I don't think so. I've seen him play football at school. He wouldn't attack someone in the arena unless his own life was in danger.

That means that in order to win, I'll have to kill him.

Then Mora and Blight are urging us to get on the chariots, Argentia and Henry's stylist reaching to adjust our hair, our sleeves, any last minute thing they can find. And the horses take off as it's our turn, and City Circle is in front of us.

I'm astounded by the noise. Screaming Capitol citizens reaching for us, calling our names. Not mine, of course, but the Careers. Yelling and waving, desperately trying to catch our attention. It's rather pathetic, but these people will be the ones sending us that life-saving aid. Rolling in money, they'll spare a bit to help us.

They're nothing to me, so I stand still, gripping the side of the chariot so I don't fall. Henry waves, but I give only a few half-hearted swipes in their general direction before giving up.

We stop in front of the President's balcony, and he gives his usual welcome speech. I use this time to scope out the others.

I focus on the Careers, figuring that they'll be my biggest competition. Roman and Hillari are dressed in a tux and gown, emphasizing the luxury of their district. District Two has donned stone grey outfits, carrying sledgehammers. Four, Brooke and Jordin, are in netting-themed outfits. Brooke has fishnets on, to no one's surprise.

Will they get sponsors? Yes, they always do. Will I? No, not if things go how they should. Maybe after I reveal myself.

We circle back around to the stables, and I try to look terrified. I'm decent at weepy, but better at scared.

I'm scolded for not waving enough, for looking too disconnected. Mora and Argentia both seem pissed at me. I've made another enemy out of Argentia, I guess.

But who cares? I've already got twenty-three other people planning to kill me.

AN: Hey! If you're enjoying the story, feel free to drop a comment below or vote. All is appreciated.

Oh, and if you're wondering why Johanna is using swear words that would be seen today, it's because making up swear words never ends well. They usually sound stupid, so I'm sticking with what's recognizable.

See you later!