A Victor's Ally - The 73rd Hunger Games (Fanfiction)

one

My laugh echoed in the empty forest as I swung from one tree branch to another, risking a glance behind me to see my pursuer. Reaching the end of another line of trees, I used my momentum to propel my body up and around the tree branch, doing a complete circle before I finally let go. As I soared through the air, I contorted my body into a flip before I reached the ground and landed on my feet, arms out for balance. I straightened my body, looking out across the golden fields in front of me as I stood at the edge of the tree line. I breathed in deeply, only to be knocked down onto the grass by a heavy force.

"Luke," I let out a laugh, my voice muffled by the ground, "What in Panem was that for?" In an attempted to push him off of me, I wiggled my body and pushed my hands against his chest to no avail. His muscular body leaned heavily on mine, making it harder to breathe.

"You're getting my clothes dirty." I whined, letting my body go still. His chest vibrated against mine in a rumbling laughter, and although I couldn't see his face, I could imagine his sneaky grin.

"Since when have you ever been worried about how your clothes look? Or your hair, for that matter?" Luke propped himself up on his elbows, an impish grin plastered on his face. My smile matched his as I gazed up at him, looking into his hazel eyes that I was so jealous of when we were younger. The eyes of my best friend used to be so clear, almost always containing a glint that let you know he was up to something. Now, his entire face was guarded, as if he would never fully escape the arena he had recently left.

There was no doubt in my mind that he would never forget the 72nd Hunger Games, or forget the new problems he has to face with the Capital. You would think that after being crowned victor, the problems would end. Instead, he was constantly being whisked away by the Capital for reasons I couldn't understand. Today was one of those days, since he would have to serve as the District 9 mentor for whoever was reaped.

I knew better then to bring up the subject of his victory. It would only bring back unwanted memories of the arena, for both Luke and for myself. While Luke was in the arena, I was stuck in District 9, watching as my best friend fought for his life against 23 others. During the finale, Luke watched as the psychotic girl from District 1 picked off the remaining members of his alliance, leaving them to face off as the final two. In the end he managed to knock her off the side of the cliff, but not before she delivered a nasty cut down his arm, leaving a permanent scar that even the Capital couldn't fix.

Once he returned, he was never the same. For the first few weeks he refused to see anyone, and it wasn't until after his victory tour that we were able to rekindle our friendship. Even then, it was different. His whole demeanor had changed from the fun-loving boy I used to know, to a careful, guarded man.

My eyes fixated on the long, jagged scar that ran down his forearm. Avoiding his eyes, I traced my forefinger lightly down it. Luke inhaled sharply, his body going rigid and quickly rolling off of mine. I sat up and avoided his stare to save myself from future embarrassment. We were both on edge today, and my mood instantly dampened once I realized why.

"The reaping is today," I stated glumly, my eyes downcast. "I still have two years left, Luke. You know how many times my name is in the bowl. What if-" The words caught in my throat and my hands shook slightly as I thought of the possibilities. District 9 wasn't exactly the largest district, and I knew the odds were not in my favor.

Luke remained silent, his body stretched out next to mine as we looked up at the blue sky. The sun beat down on us, almost as if it was teasing us. Such a nice day, but such a horrible event was taking place. How ironic.

"We should go, Jules. We can't be late for the reaping." Luke voiced my own thoughts, standing up and offering me a hand.

I sighed as I ran my hand through my knotty ponytail, knowing that I would have a hard time making myself look nice. I punched his arm lightly, and took off through the woods, racing him back toward the town.