TWISTED // Clato | ✓

Chapter 4: Nonexistent Hope

CLOVE's POV:

I spend a lonely rest of the day on the train weighing my chances of survival. Clearly Cato still sort of cares about me if he was willing to volunteer to protect me, but I still feel like he's treating me like less than I am. Honestly, if I volunteered I must have some reason to believe I can win!

Frustrated, I pull out my precious knives and began pegging them at the flowery Capitol things in my room. A porcelain bowl? My knife shatters it. Goldenrod fabric? My knife rips it. A crystal chandelier? My knife strikes it, sending shards of glass raining down around me. Who cares anyway? The Capitol people have placed everything in here for my use and no one else's. They can replace stuff easily with all the wealth they have.

A knock at the door sounds, but I ignore it. I'm not in a mood to talk to Cato right now, or whoever my mentor will be. When the knock comes again, louder this time, I finally have to check it out. An Avox answers it. She looks rather startled at the wreckage, but she doesn't question it. Maybe she's used to tributes having tantrums after their reapings.

She's wordless, but she directs me to the drawers and points out the variety of outfits I have to choose from. I nod politely, but I'm not planning on changing out of my reaping dress. Why? Because it reminds me of my date with Cato, that one glorious moment when we were completely in agreement. The reason I can't stand to look at my ring now is that it means Cato's promise, which was supposed to be ongoing. And I guess it is still; he volunteered to protect me. But that's not necessarily helping me. In fact, I feel more devastated because of it.

CATO'S POV:

I'm staring out the window, but the scenery is all the same to me. Nothing but open fields in the open country between the districts. Why won't she understand? I try to explain it to her. I try to show her what I mean, but she won't understand me.

Maybe I was wrong to volunteer. Now she won't trust me. I sigh and drop my arms onto the seat beside me, staring straight ahead. I want to talk to her, to see if I can gain her back, but I don't know how to approach her.

I drop my face into my hands. Who am I kidding? I've lost Clove for good. We can't be in love in that arena. That's a great way to guarantee weakness. I shouldn't have volunteered. Then she might have had a shot at winning. Now that I'm in the picture, however...

I catch my first glimpse of Clove since the reaping when she arrives at dinner, still wearing that dress that makes her look so stunning. My heart skips a beat and I search her face eagerly, but she won't meet my gaze. Maybe she's just scared to talk to me.

Werret comes in, polishing his cheeks with some weird maroon makeup that makes it look like his face is bleeding. "Well, hello there," he says, barely acknowledging us as he sits down and continues painting red streaks on his face.

"Who are our mentors?" I ask.

"Well, Enobaria would probably have been one, but they didn't want her to mentor her own daughter. Says you've probably had enough of her telling you what to do," Werret says to Clove, and then he starts guffawing, but she doesn't look amused.

"So who is it then?" I ask again.

"Well, there's Brutus. I've heard he can be a handful sometimes, but they thought he'd fit you," Werret says.

I grimace. "Great. And what about for her?" I ask, nodding at Clove.

"I have a name," she responds coldly, and I instantly start to attention. I can't mess with this girl; she's definitely in a mood.

"Sorry... Clove," I say. "So who's mentoring you?" I decide it's better to direct the question at her so she doesn't feel like I'm pretending she's not there. Any feeble attempt at making up is better than sitting here stonily without speaking to each other.