chapter one

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Clove's P.O.V

        I FEEL A TICKLE in my nose, pulling me out of my slumber. I open my eyes wide, meeting Cato's gaze who hovers above me, a feather in his hand. He lets out a laugh before running to my balcony, swinging his legs over the railing and jumping off. It's only two stories and he does it all the time, a crazy son a bitch.

      Before I get out of bed, I take a deep breath and let my thoughts catch up to me. Today is Reaping Day. I've never been the type to have anxiety about the reaping, District 2 takes pride in this day, it's a day of celebration. The Reaping was made to keep the districts in their place, to repay the debt and reclaim the lives the rebellion lost. Most districts see it as a cruel, inhumane form of punishment, but not us. It's an opportunity, an opportunity to bring pride to our home.

       I hop out of bed, quickly changing into my everyday attire, a black t-shirt and black pants, a classic Clove ensemble. I brush my hair back into a pony tail before slipping on my boots and running to the balcony. My house isn't horrible, but not near as luxurious as most of the homes in 2. It sits two stories high and a burnt red color like the dirt, aloe plants and desert shrub over growing the yard. I look down over the railing, Cato's shiny white teeth glimmering up at me, his arms open.

"Ready?" I shout down, a grin stretching across my face.

"Ready!" He responds. I swing my legs over the railing, pushing myself off. His muscular arms catch me softly, lowering me to my feet. Our eyes meet, sharing unspoken words. He raises his eyebrow, questioning my proposal. A sly grin creeps it's way onto my lips. Cato has been my best friend since I was eleven, after being together for that long, words aren't needed to know what the other one is thinking. Within the next second, we both dart off down the street. The most essential part of our everyday routine is to start it off with training at the academy, a luxury provided by the Capitol only to the most elite of the districts.

When we reach the intimidatingly luxurious academy, Cato reaches for the door, pulling to no avail.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Should've figured," He scoffs, scratching his head of shiny blonde hair. "Reaping Day."

I roll my eyes, this happens every year. We wake up early and head to the academy on the day of the reaping, only to find it's closed, then make fun of ourselves for being so ignorant.

"I really thought we were gonna stop doing this this year." I let out a laugh and throw my hands into the air.

"I think you've overestimated us." Cato grins.

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