Chapter 3

351 17 54
                                    

A/n Ok so I messed up on the first two chapters, but it doesn't really change anything right now. Trinity is eight! I'm sorry if I missed something while I edited the first two chapters, but Trinity is eight!

As you and Sonya were walking down the street you passed by some old friends from school. Giving them a polite wave, you continued on your way, but that's when your reminded of the Tribute selection in just a few weeks. Your name was going to be in the bowl 20 times this year. Ya your dad made some money, but it was barely enough to bring a loaf of bread home each night, and you know she never said it, but your sister was hungry.

Suddenly a question blurts out of your mouth without you really thinking about it. "How many times is your name in?"

Sonya sighs, the mood of the walk instantly darkening. "Even if we were struggling Newt would never let me put my name in extra times so only four," she says. "How about you," she asks, looking up at you and giving you a sympathetic look. She was the only person you had ever opened up about to how stressed you had been since your mother disappeared. Trying to get a job since you were eleven, being overprotective of your sister, having to put your name in extra times without your dad knowing. You never told her all of this until you were both fourteen, and the only reason you confessed is because she started worrying about you. She said you always looked sad, and she could see past your fake smile.

"Twenty," you mumble, hanging your head low. She throws her arms around you, hiding her face in your shoulder.

"It's so unfair," she sobs. She was always more emotional than you or any of your friends for that matter. Your arms wrap around her back tightly and you just stand in the middle of the street, hugging her shaking figure.

Eventually she calms down, and pulls her head away from your shoulder, leaving her eyes red and puffy. "Hey it's gonna be ok. There are thousands of names in that bowl. Neither of us are gonna get picked," you reassure her. She gives you a weak nod, sniffling as she takes a deep breath.

You start back up on your walk, not really saying anything, just enjoying another girls company, when you spot Minho walking down the street. "Hey shuckface," you call out, waving your hand when he spots you. He smirks, jogging over to you and stopping, doing a funny post to show off his biceps.

"Now which damsel in distress called for me," he asks in a funny accent, making you and Sonya crack up.

"Sorry buddy, but you'd be the one calling for us," Sonya retorts, putting her hands on her hips and leaning back on one leg. Minho stares her down as if deciding what her fate will be. But then an expression you can't describe crosses his face. Fear? Probably remembering that Newt would pummel him into pulp if he let anything happen to his best friends sister.

Rolling his eyes he walks over to your other side, you and Sonya break down in laughs. "Your soooo lucky Newt wasn't here to see that," you laugh, clutching your side.

"Shuck off," he grumbles, slouching and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Once you and Sonya regain control of your laughter, you start walking again.

"Oh (Y/n)," Minho squeals like a girl. Coincidence? It's right when you pass by the bakery.

"No."

"Oh come on you don't eve-"

"No."

Minho blows a raspberry as you continue to walk past the store that smells of butter and frosting.

It felt good to be able to just chat with some of your friends, but something deep in your gut wished Newt was there with you even if he wouldn't be able to do anything to help you. You just felt an odd sense of calm when he was in the room, as if you had nothing to worry about and you could just breathe a sigh of relief.

Tribute or VictorWhere stories live. Discover now