Together Again

Chapter 8: Interviews (Cato PoV)

     I went through training over and over. I only seemed to think of Birch. At least I could see her one time when she looked absolutely stunning when she had to. When she would think she did. I knew her, she would only think that then.
     I sat down on the couch next to Clove. She gripped a pillow. We both sat with our mouths hanging open when Birch got a 6. I reacted first. "THAT'S STUPID! I BET THEY JUDGED HER HARSHER THAN EVERYONE ELSE! I BET THEY DID! OR THEY SWITCHED HER SCORE WITH SOMEONE ELSES! WATCH! THEY DID! I GUARANTEE IT!" I yelled angrily. I punched a pillow.
     "That's crazy. It's stupid. It can't be. It's not true. It can't be. Unless she did it on purpose. Cato's right," I heard Clove think out loud. I looked at her. "OF COURSE I'M RIGHT!" I said, mad. I stormed out of the living room in Birch's house. I ran to her room. I picked up a pillow and hugged it to my chest.
     I got up after a bit. I walked to her closet. I saw she had a lot of sweatshirts, they would fit me well because she liked to have baggy shirts and sweatshirts for when she was walking around or sleeping or just when she wasn't training. She wore mine sometimes.
     I picked one of her favorites that she wore a lot. I put it on and stuffed my hand in the pocket. I felt something and grabbed it. I took it out and looked at it. It was a piece of paper. It was crumpled up. I slowly and carefully smoothed it out and sat down.
     I was tempted to read it, but I stopped. It was a letter. I looked at who it was meant for. It was for me. I choked back a sob. I blinked back tears and started reading.
Hey Cato,
       It's me, Birch. Of course, you already know that. I handed this to you. I'm dumb. Anyway, hey. So I couldn't tell you face to face. I got to nervous. But Clove said I had too. And then she made me. Here we are.
     I'm getting really nervous. So I'm just gonna act like it's a normal conversation. How are you? You better say good or I swear I'm going to make you feel better, no matter what it takes. I'm good. At least, when I'm writing this I am. I don't know about me when you read this though.
     Oh! If Clove asks if I gave you this, please say you did even if you didn't. I'll tell you that when I give it to you. Also, don't read this around me please. It's gonna make me embarrassed... Anyway, I'm gonna get to the point.
     I like you. A lot. I have for a while now. I just didn't know how to tell you. Or when I should have. (That's crossed out.)
     I like you. Like like you. This isn't a joke. I'm serious. I really do. A lot. I don't know what to do about it. I don't know how it will affect our friendship. I don't know. I asked Clove because she's good at this stuff.
     She won't want me to tell you this, but I have to get some payback. She likes you too. Just pick her. It'll make it easier. I understand. You'll pick her anyway. It's gonna be easier. For all of us.
     She's prettier. She's smarter. She's faster. She's cooler. She's more of a killer. She's ruthless. She's emotionless. She's a lot better. Anyway, I'm running out of space, so I'm just gonna stop. Um. Yeah. That's that. That's the big secret. Bye.
     I stare at the letter. I reread it a few times. I finally do something. I laugh. She's blind. She's really blind. I obviously liked her. A lot. Definitely more than Clove. Not trying to be rude or anything.
     I liked Birch because she was herself. She was smart. Pretty. Kind. Helpful. Funny. Happy. Showed emotions. Acted human. She acted realistic. She didn't let people change her. She wasn't a machine. She wasn't a killer either.
     I can't believe it. She really didn't see it. A lot of people saw it. I was nicer to her. I didn't get mad at her. I helped her. I protected her. I had too. I felt like I had too. I needed to. Everyone noticed at least something.
     The next thing I know, I wake up. I rub my eyes. I see that it's noon. I groan and get up. I reread the letter to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't. That was real. I remember what today is. I quickly run downstairs and run home.
     I finish everything quickly. I run back to Birch's house. I sit and wait anxiously with Birch and Marble's family. We wait. After District 1, it's Marble. He answers all the questions and his family is cheering. Next is Birch. I sit so close to the edge of the couch I'm surprised I haven't fallen off yet.
     I gasp and almost fall off the couch when I see Birch. I feel my mouth hanging open. She looks like a goddess and an angel. So, in short, she looks like a dream. She looks like beautiful and stunning had a child and that child was the niece to drop dead gorgeous and gorgeous.
     She looks beyond perfect. I can't even describe her. Her long brown hair is in a half up half down braid. It is clipped back by a golden laurel clip. Her eyes have a golden eyeshadow.
     Her face is perfect. Her hair makes her look even better. There is a golden laurel painted on the side of her face. Her nails are gold with silver on some of them. Her dress is gorgeous, but she makes it look even better. Her sandals compliment it and make it look better.
     I gasp. I notice it. I don't cry. I can't. She's wearing it. She's actually wearing it. The necklace. Her necklace. From Clove and I. With all the charms. I listen as she answers the questions. I blush at her description of me. I know she's describing me when she talks about the guy she likes that might like her.
     I watch the rest of the interviews, but think of Birch. I go to my house after the interviews. I have to be up early. I need to watch every moment of the Games. I need to. I go to sleep with a smile on my face.
     I wake up and remember what Birch looked like last night. I sigh, going over every detail. From her freckles to her smile. From the little bit of a blush on her face when she described me to the twinkle in her eyes that never leaves.
     I spring up and run downstairs. I grab an apple and start pacing while eating it. I finally finish and run to Birch's house. I sit down eagerly. I watch with butterflies in my stomach. When they talk about her, I stare at her picture on the screen. Her hair in a ponytail. Her eyes twinkling. Her kind smile. The slight blush on her cheeks. Her freckles. And her necklace.
     I stare at her. I want to hug her. And tell her it's gonna be ok. I want to see her. Be near her. I need her. I sigh softly and watch. They focus on each tribute multiple times. I always wish they would focus on Birch longer than they do.
     I hear the countdown. 10. Breath. Calm down. 9. Watch Birch. 8. Grip a pillow. 7. Breath again. 6. Tap my foot. 5. Swallow. 4. Look at Birch. 3. Breath. 2. Count. 1. "Let the 73rd Hunger Games begin," I whisper with everyone else.