Four

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"Get up, Penelope! We've got a big, big day ahead of us!" I groan. Why is she so annoying?

I rub my eyes and sit up. The room's pretty big for being on a train. There's a door that I assume leads to a bathroom.

I get in the posh shower. There's no knob, just a load of buttons on the wall. I press one near the middle and gasp as hot water suddenly shoots out of the ceiling.

Once I've got over the shock, I experiment with all the different soaps and scents. I rub strawberry stuff into my hair and all of my body because it smells so good. When I finally decide to get out, I find there are no towels. What? Am I just supposed to stand here for five hours until I air dry?

As if in answer to my question, I notice another button on the wall. I press it and hot air blows out of the ceiling, and I'm dry in minutes. Cool.

When I walk back into my room I open the wardrobe. Just as I'd been hoping, it's stuffed with posh designer clothes. Some of them look a bit weird though. A bit too Capitol.

I pick out a black miniskirt and a blue polka dot shirt, and leave my newly washed hair hanging down my back. There's another bang on the door, making me nearly jump out of my skin. "Hurry up if you want breakfast!"

Breakfast. That's sounds good. Worth leaving the room for. I walk back through to the dining room. Cato's the only person sitting there. "Hey," he says, smiling. Hopefully he's forgiven me.

"Hi," I say back. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said yesterday, I didn't mean it."

"Hey, don't worry. It's okay, I get it. You were just upset," he says gently. "I'm sorry for yelling at you too. I know I can be scary sometimes."

"It's fine," I say, smiling. I sit down opposite him and start piling pancakes on a plate.

Cato laughs. "Are you seriously going to eat all of those?"

"Yep," I reply, starting to drizzle syrup and strawberries onto my pancakes. Back home, strawberries are a luxury, far too expensive to eat everyday. Or every year, more like.

There's a steaming mug of something next to Cato. It's smells sweet but I'm not sure what it is. "What's that?" I ask, pointing to the jug.

"Very funny," he says, thinking I'm joking.

I stare at him blankly. "Well, what is it?"

"Are you actually being serious? You've never had hot chocolate before?" he exclaims, looking amused.

"Er .. Not exactly, no."

"How not?"

I don't want to tell him why. If I've never heard of it it's probably because it's too expensive for me to buy.

He doesn't push it though, and just pours me a mug. "Here, try some then."

I cautiously take a sip, wondering if it's a trick. But it's not. It's delicious, possibly the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. It's hot and creamy and sweet and bitter all at the same time. I close my eyes, savouring the taste.

Cato roars with laughter. "You're a funny one, aren't you?"

I just nod and start to eat. I pour myself mug after mug of hot chocolate. I notice a small bowl of pink and white square things in the centre of the table.

"What are those?" I ask again, picking one up and studying it.

"What, the marshmallows?"

"So these are marshmallows? Interesting. I thought a marshmallow was a sensitive girl."

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