The Candidate [A Hunger Games Story]

Chapter Six

I was awoken by the sound of an argument. After days inside the truck, it was strange to hear other people talking, especially in raised voices. I'd slept badly on the sofa, but I was grateful for the roof over my head...even if I could hear Drew discussing me in disdain with whoever had arrived at the house.

I made my way toward the sound of the voices and recognized the woman stood in Drew's kitchen immediately. It was Valeria Grey, one of the best victors of her time. She stood tall and proud with her bold red hair and her angry expression. She turned to look at me as I entered the room, her lips pursed.

"You must be Aurelia," she said with a sniff. "Well, I guess if you're entering the Games in place of a girl from our District I can't complain. Do you really think you have what it takes to win?"

It was a question I wasn't ready for. I didn't know. How could I know when I didn't know who or what I'd be up against? Even as the daughter of a Gamemaker, I had no clue what was in store for the year's event. Everything about the arena is kept quiet until the last minute.

"Maybe...I trained back in the Capitol for combat. It might be of use in the arena."

"Good. Then we can focus on our male tribute," Valeria said snootily. I opened my mouth to protest, despite a cold look from Drew.

"I'll still need your help. I don't want to go in unprepared."

"Look here, girl. We're already doing enough for you by not turning you in," Valeria snapped. "We don't need to hear your story...I recognize you. I've seen you before on TV. Your father is a Gamemaker...and that tells me everything I need to know about you."

Her response shocked me a lot more than Drew's. As a Victor, she'd always remained poised and professional. She suited the role well and always managed to keep herself from sliding into insanity. She never married or had children, but she had family ties that hadn't been cut. Many Victors were alienated by their communities for being stone-cold killers. But Valeria still had her feet firmly on the ground, and I had expected her to have more sympathy for a child going into the Games, even one from the Capitol.

"Don't tell me you think all children take after their parents," I said, thinking I sounded mature as I did. "There's no sense in judging me when you don't even know me."

"Are you saying you didn't pass judgement of us?" Valeria snapped back. "When our names were called for the Games, did you sit with your family and analyze us? Did your friends and family ever place bets on our odds of winning? Did you truly believe the personas we played to win the Games? Please. You can't talk about judgement."

I blushed. She was right, of course. Judgement was a part of our culture in the Capitol. We judged ourselves to be better than everyone else. But by then, I didn't consider myself a Capitol girl anymore. The illusion of the idyllic life I'd had there had been shattered. Somewhere between leaving President Snow's house and being dumped n District 10, I lost that part of my identity. But that didn't make me a District girl either.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're stuck with me. But I'm begging you...I need your help. I don't want to die."

"No one does," Valeria said coldly. "I'll see you on reaping day."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me alone with Drew in the kitchen. He sighed, shaking his head at me as though I'd done something wholly disappointing. Maybe he was disgusted at how I'd begged for my life.

"You don't want to anger her more," Drew said. "Believe it or not, I might be more sympathetic toward you than her."

"Does that mean you'll help me?" I asked, wide-eyed. He glared back at me.

"I haven't decided yet. But you can stay here for now. Just don't let yourself be seen. I don't want to get myself in any trouble for you."

"Thank you," I murmured, though I felt a little irritated that he was still so determined to make me into a villain. "I don't want to ask...but may I have some food? They starved me..."

Drew snorted, turning his back on me. "They didn't starve you, girl. You don't know the meaning of the word."

I waited, my heart pounding. My stomach ached from not eating. The lump of bread from the night before had done nothing to soothe my belly. I didn't understand how Drew could claim that three days without food wasn't torture. Until I realized that in his youth, he'd probably gone much longer without eating.

After a minute, he sighed. He threw his hands in the air. "Alright. Eat that you like. Just don't bother me, alright? I'm heading to my stables for the day. If you need to train, there's a gym upstairs. Stay low."

I nodded, unable to form words to express my gratitude as he left. I fell upon a loaf of bread in the cupboard and ripped at it like a rabid animal. I ate fruit until it dribbled down my chin and made my face sticky. I gorged on milk from the fridge and then sat on the floor, my stomach hurting even more than before. It was so painful that I had to take deep breaths over and over until the feeling began to subside.

I sat there on the wooden floor and told myself I was pathetic. I told myself over and over until I believed it. I told myself to get a grip if I wanted to live. The arena wouldn't be so kind to me as Drew had been. No one would support me. No one would care if I lived or died. No one would care how many days I went without food. I had to get strong, physically and mentally.

There were still a few days before the reaping. There was still time.