Dare or Dare? ~DIVERGENT AND HUNGER GAMES CROSSOVER~

Dare Or Dare

                           "Dare or dare?" asks my friend, Sal. "Oh gosh, I don't know," I reply sarcastically. "I'm feeling adventurous today. I'll go for dare." Sal laughs lightly. She squeals. Crap, I think, this can't be good. "So, the Reaping is in a few minutes, right?"
"Right."
"When they call for the female Dauntless tribute, I dare you to volunteer."
"What the hell? Do you want me dead?" I inquire rather loudly. "No, I just wanna live, and if I'm not out there, I've got at least a few more days."
"So let me get this straight... I'm gonna risk my pretty okay life so you don't have to risk your slightly less okay life?"
Sal shrugs. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Okay, I'll do it," I sigh.
"Yay! No take-backs, though, you already promised."
"I didn't say I pro—"
A deep, almost inhuman voice cuts me off. "Alrighty, Dauntless, it's time for the Reaping. Gather around at your tables and wait for the names to be called," says the voice. I recognize the voice as Yhonas Dillary's. He's the Dauntless instructor, but in all honesty, he's not very good at his job. Because of that, Dauntless haven't won the Hunger Games in at least ten years, and ironically enough, Yhonas became instructor ten years ago. Sal says our luck is just running out, but that's because she has a huge crush on Yhonas, and refuses to admit what a crappy instructor he is. Not that I can blame her, though, he's totally gorgeous. He's about six feet and four inches tall, with beautiful brown eyes and a blinding smile.  His black hair is piled perfectly on top of his head. His tattoos creep out from under his black tank top, painting his unusually pale skin with different vibrant colors. Sal always tries to get me to admit I like him, which I do, but I'm not gonna tell her that. She was formerly in Candor, so she knows I'm lying, but if I actually tell her, she'll tell everyone, including Yhonas, and he thinks I hate him. I really don't. "Okay so... Umm..." Aww, he's so cute when he's shy. But that's part of the reason he's such a crappy instructor, he can't talk to anyone! Great. Time for yet another self argument. "The boy tribute is going to be," there's a pause as Yhonas draws the name from a large glass bowl, his muscles showing as he pulls the tiny strip of paper from the bowl. Calm down, Callie, calm down, act like you loathe him. Sal stands beside me and asks," You ready to volunteer?"
"Oh, yeah," I say, still eyeing Yhonas's muscled arms as he reads off the name of the boy tribute. Sal giggles,"Oh my God, you like him!" Heads turn as we both realize how loud she was. Yhonas looks at me and flashes a small, almost invisible grin. Did he see me looking at him? I know I'm blushing, because my face feels hot. Too hot. My palms start sweating. Not now, hormones, I'm tryin' to hate him! My heartbeat increases surprisingly quickly. Crap! Yhonas reads off the name of the girl tribute, and I — without thinking at all— shout,"I volunteer as tribute!" as loud as I can. "And we have a volunteer!" Yhonas says, sounding impressed. And not almost impressed. Just genuinely impressed. As I walk up to the podium—which really isn't necessary— I brush past the person who was supposed to go. Jeannette Alswans. No! No, no, no! I hate her! I'm not risking my life for this idiot! I reach the stage where Yhonas is standing. Just one word is playing over and over in my head like a broken record. No. No. No. No. No. I just volunteered for my worst enemy, and I couldn't be angrier. Yhonas backs away slowly when he catches on about my burning rage, because he knows I can pack a punch, and when I'm mad, I punch anything and everything. I heavily debate running back to Jeannette and pounding her face in. I want to. I have to. I just have to. I find that she has occupied my spot next to Sal. Here goes, I think. I start running towards Jeannette, my fist ready to collide with her already broken nose. Before she knows what hit her, I throw my bruised knuckles right into her mouth and kick her in the gut. I keep kicking Jeannette until Yhonas pulls me off of her and tells me to save it for the Hunger Games. He looks into my eyes, wearing a look of seriousness that I never see on him much. "Callie. You are an amazing fighter, just don't waste your energy here. We need you to win this for us."
"Yeah, no freaking pressure."
"Callie, I'm serious. I know I'm a terrible instructor, but you were able to see past that and learn something, if you lose this I'm going to be very disappointed. You're the best we have. Win this, Callie." His words seem to calm me down, but confuse me at the same time. "What? I'm not the best," I lie. "Have you seen Sal with the punching bag?" He quietly laughs. "Yeah, but you're still better. Especially on humans. Y'know, speaking from experience," he says, obviously recalling the day I kicked him in the ribs for scaring the crap out of me. I fear fight. "Damn right, I am. Does it still hurt?"
"Oh yeah," he nods. "I can barely walk."
"Sorry."
"About what?"
"Not being sorry." He laughs again. "Yeah, I forgot. You hate me."
"How could you forget that?" I spit. "I dunno. I just have a terrible memory."
"No joke. Why are we having this conversation? You're supposed to be up there announcing the tributes."
"I just did."
"Right."
"I love when I'm not the only one with a bad memory." I shove Yhonas aside and walk back up to my spot on the unnecessarily large stage. He jogs up behind me. "So yeah," he states," those are the Dauntless tributes. Good luck, Mikey."
"What about me?" I ask.
"You don't need it." Okay, whatever. I don't care about that right now. I care about how I am possibly going to die for my worst enemy.