Against the Tides

Chapter 3

Isabelle advised me for an hour after breakfast the next day, rattling off tip after tip without pause. I could hardly keep up with her pace. I guess the Games made her a wee bit... Mmm-How do I say this politely? Oh- skittish.

"... and so it's very important to-"

"Isabelle!" I exclaimed. "I'm gonna be late for training if we don't stop now."

Isabelle waved at me frantically. "No, just give me another minute-"

"I don't have time!" I had a childish urge to stomp my foot. "They're expecting me any second."

I headed out of the suite to the elevator, while Isabelle ran behind me. Luckily, I'd put on my training clothes before our meeting.

"Sorry," I yelled over my shoulder.

Tristan met me at the door to the training center, and we walked in together, like we'd planned. As a team.

"Let's find allies, shall we?" he asked.

I nodded, grinning. "We shall."

Over the days of training, I tried out every station and spoke to most of the other tributes. The ones from Districts 1 and 2 were incredible with their chosen weapons. A little too incredible. It became obvious that they'd trained somewhat previously to the reaping.

Unfair, much? I thought. But I wanted them on my side. Otherwise...

Yeah. You know how those tributes are.

Three days before I was due to enter the arena, I lined up with the others. Exhibitions were under way.

"You go in there and teach those Gamemakers a thing or two," Tristan said when my time came. "They won't know what hit them." For the slightest second, he placed his hand on mine.

"Thanks," I muttered. "Good luck to you, too."

Most girls would've blushed at a guy touching her hand, but I wasn't one of them. If I started to like Tristan- I mean, more than I already did- that wouldn't end well. I had to push him from my mind.

Inside the exhibition room, there were many objects to use. I set my eyes on a bundle of ropes. When I'd gathered them in my arms, I strolled towards the Gamemaker's box. Bertie Collins, who'd been Head Gamemaker over the past five years, sat in front.

Bertie Collins flashed me a smile, rubbing his pudgy belly.

"Show us what you've got!" he said.

Piece by piece, I uncoiled each rope and knotted them together. The end result was a net. I didn't even break a sweat. Making traps was child's play to me (I'm a born and bred fisher, remember). It definitely boosted my confidence, though. When I proved that it could work- by rolling a hundred-pound weight on top of the net and pulling a rope to lift it- the Gamemakers dismissed me.

Our scores were announced on the TV that night, and our entire team sat together to watch it.

"Now for District Four," the newsman said. "Tristan Chamberlain: 8."

I joined everyone in cheering.

"Awesome," I said to Tristan, nudging him with my elbow. "What did you do?"

"I did my infamous dirt camouflage trick... you know, the one I used to scare you before." He winked at me.

"You're still not off the hook for giving me a heart attack," I teased. "How was I supposed to know you could make yourself blend in with a tree?"

Isabelle and Nolan shushed me so that we could hear my score. I closed my eyes, too nervous to look at the screen.

"Mags Wader: 10."

Every jaw in the room dropped.

"You matched scores with District 1 and District 2!" Isabelle exclaimed. "Mags, I think you just put yourself at great odds to win this."

To say I couldn't speak was an understatement.

"W-wow." Nobody had ever achieved higher than a 10 (and nobody ever would until Katniss Everdeen was tribute).

Instantly, my state of mind changed. Maybe I'd underestimated my own abilities. Maybe, just maybe, I would survive.

Maybe District 4 would get a new victor this year.