10 Chapter 10: Training Centre (Part 1)

(Katniss Everdeen POV)

The Training Center has a tower designed exclusively for the tributes and their teams. This will be our home until the actual Games begin. Each district has an entire floor. You simply step onto an elevator and press the number of your district. Easy enough to remember.

I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family. But that's a dark and creaky thing that moves like a snail and smells of sour milk. Peeta claims he could run up the stairs at least 10x faster than the elevator can move up the same amount of flights, I wonder if he could for this one.The walls of this elevator are made of glass so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air. It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish.

Apparently, Effie Trinket's duties did not conclude at the station. She and Haymitch will be overseeing us right into the arena. In a way, that's a plus because at least she can be counted on to corral us around to places on time whereas we haven't seen Haymitch since the train. Probably passed out somewhere, dreaming of a life without the Games. Effie Trinket, on the other hand, seems to be flying high. We're the first team she's ever chaperoned that made a splash at the opening ceremonies. She's complimentary about not just our costumes but how we conducted ourselves. And, to hear her tell it, Effie knows everyone who's anyone in the Capitol and has been talking us up all day, trying to win us sponsors. She must have failed all the other times just to get enough luck to get me and Peeta as we are definitely going to send Victor home to District 12. It is just whether me or Peeta is sent back. Me or Peeta.

"I've been very mysterious, though," she says, her eyes squint half shut. "Because, of course, Haymitch hasn't bothered to tell me your strategies. But I've done my best with what I had to work with. How Katniss sacrificed herself for her sister. How you've both successfully struggled to overcome the barbarism of your district.". In my head I think over her words, what strategies does she mean, Haymitch has not said anything. Barbarism? That's ironic coming from a woman helping to prepare us for slaughter. And what's she basing our success on? Our table manners? Is it because everytime she comes everybody hates her and wants to kill her? That is her fault for volunteering to be the one to choose who is killed.

"Everyone has their reservations, naturally. Me being from the coal district." I say. I then say a phrase Peeta constantly repeats, "But, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to a diamond!'" Effie beams at me so brilliantly, as if he had properly bonded.

"Yes, I will remember that for next time; if you put enough pressure on coal it will turn into pearls.", Effie mumbles under her breath.

Coal does not turn to pearls. They grow in shellfish. I meant coal turns to diamonds, but that's actually untrue as well. I have heard they have some sort of machine in District 1 that can turn graphite into diamonds. But we don't mine graphite in District 12. That was part of District 13's job until they were destroyed during the rebellion against the Capitol.

I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day, either do not care or cannot understand what she says. Maybe, it has worked but I am doubtful.

"Unfortunately, I can't seal the sponsor deals for you. Only Haymitch can do that," says Effie grimly. "But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary."

Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire. Unfortunately she is working with Haymitch a person known through all of Panem to be too drunk to care about the Games.

My quarters are larger than our entire house back home. But it is only the size of maybe 2 of Peeta's rom back in District 12. They are plush, like the train car, but also have so many automatic gadgets that I am sure I will not have time to press all the buttons. Peeta's family has none of these things. How unfair is it? Ibet nearly every house in the Capitol has these in every room, but I doubt that there is even 1 in all of District 12 The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose from regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges. When you step out on a mat, heaters come on that blow-dry your body. Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly. It floats down around my shoulders in a glossy curtain.

I program the closet for an outfit to my taste. The windows zoom in and out on parts of the city at my command. You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute. I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door. Effie's calling me to dinner.

Good. I am starving. And I am beginning to miss Peeta beside me. I want to share all my new experiences with him, not on my own.

Peeta, Cinna, and Portia are standing out on a balcony that overlooks the Capitol when we enter the dining room. I am glad to see the stylists, particularly after I hear that Haymitch will be joining us. A meal presided over by just Effie and Haymitch is bound to be a disaster. Besides, dinner isn't really about food, it's about planning out our strategies, and Cinna and Portia have already proven how valuable they are. Peeta's outfit is quite strange, it is an orange and black kill me outfit which I doubt even the people in the Capitol would wear.

A silent young man dressed in a white tunic offers us all stemmed glasses of wine. I think about turning it down, but I have never really had wine other than the bottle Peeta brought to my last birthday and the homemade stuff my mother makes with fruit me and Peeta collect in the woods. I take a sip of the tart, dry liquid and secretly think it could be improved by a few spoonfuls of honey, but I cannot disagree that it is much better than the alcohol in District 12.

Haymitch shows up just as dinner is being served. It looks as if he's had his own stylist because he's clean and groomed and about as sober as I've ever seen him. He doesn't refuse the offer of wine, but when he starts in on his soup, I realize it's the first time I've ever seen him eat. Maybe he really will pull himself together long enough to help us.

"UGH, I hate wine. Is there never any good, strong, powerful liquor around here?" I hear him mutter under his breath. I then gave up hoping for a good mentor.

Cinna and Portia seem to have a civilizing effect on Haymitch and Effie. To some degree. At least they're addressing each other decently. And they both have nothing but praise for our stylists' opening act. While they make small talk, I concentrate on the meal. Mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef sliced as thin as paper, noodles in a green sauce, cheese that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes. The servers, all young people dressed in white tunics like the one who gave us wine, move wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters and glasses full. The use of the Avoxes as slaves still makes me disgusted.

About halfway through my glass of wine, my head starts feeling foggy, so I change to water instead. I don't like the feeling and hope it wears off soon. How Haymitch can stand walking around like this full-time is a mystery that even god cannot solve.

I try to focus on the talk, which has turned to our interview costumes, when a girl sets a gorgeous-looking cake on the table and deftly lights it. It blazes up and then the flames flicker around the edges awhile until it finally goes out. I have a moment of doubt.

"What makes it burn? Is it alcohol?" I say, looking up at the girl. "That's the last thing I wa - oh! I know you!". I then realise my blunders. frist, she was an Avox and second, Peeta forbade e from ever metioning that timeand I nearly blew it for a stupid party trick that Peeta showed me last year. I feel my insides contracting with anxiety and guilt at the sight of her and my words. The expression of terror that crosses her face only adds to my guilt and unease. She shakes her head in denial quickly and hurries away from the table.

When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" snaps Effie. "The very thought."

"What's an Avox?" I ask, pretending to be ignorant of the meaning.

"Someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue so she can't speak," says Haymitch. "She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her."

"And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order," says Effie. "Of course, you don't really know her."

But I do know her. And now that Haymitch has mentioned the word traitor. My guilt begins to slowly rise and I am fearing the worst. Hunting on Capitol soil like the woods is counted as treason and I could be executed even if I win the Games. The punishment is so high I could never admit it.

"No, I guess not, I just - " I stammer, and the wine is not helping. Peeta snaps his fingers. "Delly Cartwright. That's who it is. I kept thinking she looked familiar as well. Then I realized she's a dead ringer for Delly."

Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly. She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me. I have never seen the girl with the red hair smile. But I jump on Peeta's suggestion gratefully.

"Of course, that's who I was thinking of. It must be the hair," I say. After this I will maybe reward him for his help.

"Something about the eyes, too," says Peeta. The energy at the table relaxes.

"Oh, well. If that's all it is," says Cinna. "And yes, the cake has spirits, but all the alcohol has burned off. I ordered it specially in honor of your fiery debut."

We eat the cake and move into a sitting room to watch the replay of the opening ceremonies that's being broadcast. A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us. Even our own party lets out an "Ahh!" as they show us coming out of the Remake Center.

"Whose idea was the hand holding?" asks Haymitch.

"Mine" says Portia. I highly doubt it, I think Peeta put her up to it with a bit of 'persuasion'.

"Just the perfect touch of rebellion," says Haymitch. "Very nice."

Rebellion? I have to think about that one moment. But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist, as if the Games had already begun, I know what Haymitch means. But I never would have thought our intimate relationship dating over 2 years could be seen as such.

"Tomorrow morning is the first training session. Meet me for breakfast and I'll tell you exactly how I want you to play it," says Haymitch to Peeta and I. "Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk."

Peeta and I walk together down the corridor to our rooms. When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.

"Really Katniss I thought you knew better than that.", he began scolding me.

"I know who she is, I was there to. Next time you see her do not react the same. Okay?"

"Yes." I respond meekly. On the run, he continues to fire questions at me.

"Did your stylist see you naked?"

"Did he touch you?"

"Yes and no"

"So he saw my darling angel naked."

"Yes, but..but he is no like that. He did not do anything."

"I will kill him anyway." Peeta then begins trodding on a war path towards the living room.

"No Peeta! Stop!" I shout just quiet enough so next door does not hear. I begin hugging legs." I will leave you if you kill him." that stops Peeta dead in his tracks. He bends down picks me up and carries me to his room.