TWISTED // Clato | ✓

Chapter 3: Plans Shattered

CLOVE'S POV:

I return home so excited I can barely breathe. All dread of the Games is dissolved in my thrill at what Cato just gave me.

I don't show anyone else the ring. My mom would throw a fit and assume all the wrong things. She wouldn't understand, never really loving anybody in her life, with the possible exception of my dad. She met him in the Capitol after her Games, and they came back to Two together and got married.

Instead, when she asks how my evening was, I put on a casual smile and say, "It was fine." Then I sprint up the stairs three at a time, dive into my room, and collapse onto the bed, hugging my pillow and burying my face in it. 

I can win the Games. I'll be motivated enough to do that when I have this to come home to! Cato! He'll be so proud of me!

I spend a night sleepless with excitement. The couple times I doze off, I see myself as victor of the 74th Hunger Games with Cato congratulating me. In between fantastic dreams, I switch on my light and read the inscription on the ring repeatedly:

CLATO.

Around two in the morning, I decide I definitely can't sleep, so I switch on the light, pick up my knives, and start hurling them at my target which hangs on the wall. The first one lands in the dead center. The second one knocks out the first one and they both fall onto the floor. I aim, and thrust the third knife, landing it in the center.

Satisfied, I crawl back into bed. Tomorrow's the reaping. No backing out.

I never told my mom I was planning to volunteer this year, but I think she guessed it when she saw my smug smile.

"It's your big moment, Clove. Find your best outfit."

"Oh, I've already got that covered," I respond. Retreating to my room, I dress in the same black outfit I wore on my date with Cato. I pull my hair into a simple black ponytail and add a pair of glittering earrings.

I wait in the crowd at the reaping, barely able to contain my excitement. Because this is it! What I've been waiting my whole life to do! I watch other kids arrive and join the huge crowd. Some of them look excited, some nervous. I already see a few other girls in my age group who look intent on volunteering, but I'll make sure it's me.

Werret Davies, the District 2 escort, walks out onto the stage and gives his customary greeting. I don't mind him so much, even though he's from the Capitol. He has a nice smile beneath his maroon makeup.

Werret's arm dives into the girl's globe and he pulls out a slip of paper. I grit my teeth. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, I'm volunteering. No questions asked.

"The female tribute from District Two is... Alayne Merreck!"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I yell, almost before he's done speaking. Suddenly, I hear my words echoed by another. I squint through the crowd and see a tall girl with curly brown hair, bouncing up and down with eagerness.

Oh, no you don't, I think. I said it first. "We have a volunteer!" exclaims Werret like it's some big surprise, even though people volunteer almost every year. I square my shoulders and get ready to step into the spotlight.

Only no one around me is looking at me. With horror, I realize they're all looking at that idiot! She looks just like one of those girl's that's normally hanging around Cato when she can get past me. Well, she isn't going to steal my show too. Ignoring protests from the surrounding kids as I push past them, I stalk up to the platform. "Thank you!" I say loudly. Werret's eyes fall on me from his position on the platform, and he looks confused.