Against the Tides

Chapter 4

I'd never given much thought to the tribute interviews before. Until I found myself being prepped for one. My stomach swirled, but not because of the interview.

Zara had made me a mermaid-style dress (Didn't see that coming, I thought sarcastically). It shimmered in various shades of blue, green and brown, flowing to my ankles. Raven curled my hair and twisted it into a messy bun. As for Tristan, his suit featured the same colors, while his usually untamed, wavy, dark hair had been slicked back.

Thea would've killed me for saying it, but her brother couldn't have been more handsome.

As we waited for interviewing to start, the girl from District 1 tapped me on the shoulder.

"Your name is Mags, right?" she asked. "I love that dress on you! Oh, and if you forgot, I'm Whitney."

Whitney, a petite blonde, wore a knee-length, strapless dress, covered in brown fur. She wore it so well that I had to wonder if she did any modeling.

"Thanks, Whitney," I replied.

Gemma, the girl from District 2, said, "I agree with her. I wish I could wear that."

The girl from District 3 nodded, and they all offered me smiles. I returned the smile genuinely. We had less than twelve hours before we transformed from teenage girls to killers, so I relished any moment to act normal with other girls my age. Something as simple as complimenting each other's dresses? I only wished tomorrow would be that easy. Tomorrow held unknown terrors.

The interview host was Wendy Harlequin. I guessed she could've been around fifty years old, but she hadn't aged much in the past eleven years (Just think of her as the original Caesar Flickerman). Wendy dyed her hair differently for every appearance, and today, it was minty green.

After Whitney, Gemma, their district partners, and District 3 were finished with their interviews, I stood in the wings offstage.

"From District Four," Wendy Harlequin announced, "give a warm welcome to Mags Wader!"

You never get a second chance to make a first impression, I reminded myself. I couldn't look nervous. No tribute who earned a 10 should look nervous. But I didn't want to be cocky. So instead, I went for a humble, girl-next-door image. That really is me, in a nutshell.

"First, congratulations on getting a 10 for your exhibition," Wendy said as I sat down. "Were you surprised?"

"Yes," I admitted. "I would've been happy with a 7, but I guess I impressed them a lot. Didn't know I had it in me." Giggles came out of my mouth, and the audience began laughing with me.

"Can you tell us what you did to wow the Gamemakers?"

"I don't know if I should..." I flashed a devious smile. "But I can say that you don't want to cross me. I will kill anybody that tries to attack me." I meant it, too. What else would I do? Let somebody kill me? Definitely not.

Wendy raised her eyebrows at the audience. "This girl means business!"

To that, the Capitol people gave a hearty round of applause.

"There's something else I've been dying to know," Wendy continued. "Your district partner, Tristan; he's the brother of the girl you volunteered for, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"What's your relationship with him? Is he... that special someone?"

Every pair of eyes was trained on me, desperate to drink in some Hunger Games gossip.

She had to go there, I thought. "Um... not exactly."

"What do you mean, Mags?"

"Well... we're pretty close friends-"