Alyssa of Nine (Reimagining the Hunger Games)

Chapter Four: Noah and Henrietta

The drive to the District Nine train station only took fifteen minutes from the square, but it seemed to feel like an eternity. I sat in the backseat with Jeremy, who didn't look the least bit pleased to be sitting anywhere in the company of a District Nine orphan since he was likely told by his parents that my parents were criminals and traitors who deserved everything they got from the Capitol. But he still didn't say anything, at least not so far as acknowledging my existence, anyway. Not that I really care, I tell myself.

As soon as we exit the car we follow Henrietta as she says, "Come along, the train awaits, and I have a feeling you're going to love what's inside." Jeremy and I step on board the train, and it looks like I have walked into a mansion in miniature.

Everywhere I look in our dining and lounge car are mahogany and velvet furnishings, fine crystal chandeliers, china plates and elegant silverware already set on the table to be used for dinner in a few hours. There are also mini-fridges which carry at least twenty different Capitol beverages, both fizzy and more nutritional, and machines where you just press a button and you get served anything you want if you'd rather have something warm to drink like coffee, hot chocolate, or tea.

On another table sits an assortment of the kind of treats I never could afford nor would have been allowed in District Nine. Sugary, decadent things, like fancy fruit jellies and chocolates filled with creams and caramels. There's actual bakery made bread, butter, tea biscuits, cheese, cold seafood served with a spicy looking red sauce for dipping, pastries filled with whipped cream, cupcakes frosted with chocolate icing or with vanilla coconut and tiny bite-sized morsels for tea cakes, with sophisticated and pretty edible decorations on top. There are also fruits like apples, oranges, bananas, grapes, and strawberries, as well as chunks and slices of different kinds of melons at the fruit bar.

I really just want to head into my rooms to be alone and begin thinking up a strategy for a while. But I can't, since Henrietta says, "Please stay a while, dinner will be served in just a few hours, and feel free to sample anything that is here for you. I will just go and freshen myself up in the powder-room. Noah should be in here any minute, he will be your mentor for the 73rd Hunger Games. I'll be back in a few." And Henrietta heads down toward the ladies' train bathroom.

"Typical Capitol woman, calling a ladies' bathroom a powder room. Still, we haven't even arrived in the Capitol and this is already an improvement over crappy one-horse District Nine." Jeremy says in a drawl. "These people know about class and culture. And most Capitolites don't have executed criminals for family."

Ignore him. Ignore him. I keep thinking to myself. But it's getting harder all the time. "Say, orphan girl, do you know anything at all about this mentor we're supposed to be getting?" Jeremy suddenly asks me. And all I decide to say is, "No, I don't know about him." And Jeremy smirks. "Of course you wouldn't. They wouldn't be teaching you much in the community orphan home in Nine, now would they? Still, I was at least hoping that I wouldn't be going up against such a total ignoramus."

"If you don't watch it, you'll be the first person I hunt down in that arena." I snap. Even though I would rather avoid having to kill anyone, I realize that at some point during the Games, somebody else will likely have to die at my hand, if I choose life over death. And I would choose life every time. "Please. I doubt if you could even pick up a mace or fight with a sword properly if your life depended on it. Or even manage to get someone with a knife. Your kind is always that pathetic, orphan."

Before I can respond in any way to this, our mentor enters the dining and lounge car and it is Noah Linwood. And I actually do know some things about him.

Noah also hails from District Nine, but he was born into one of the better-off classes in Nine to begin with, since his family owns the only jewelry shop back home. Linwood Jewelers. And his name was in the reaping so few times in comparison with any orphan that it never seemed like he was in any real danger.