96th Reaping [District Ten]

I don’t think I ever figured out how to approach the Emberstatts and Lowe after last year. Things were already weird enough after Mason and I had our breakup. It wasn’t lousy per se; it was just that we probably shouldn’t have been in a relationship to begin with. A 12-year age gap couldn’t work for people like us because I was still learning about the world, and he was already looking for someone to settle down with. It was a relationship that I had consented to, and I felt like we had an equal share of power in the relationship, but then again, how much power can a teenager hold in a romantic relationship with someone much older than me? And after Emerson died in the Games last year, what do I even say to them? How do I go up to them to offer my condolences when to be frank, I dated the wrong person?

It was hard, too, since I always looked up to Mace in a way. For some reason, his Games had struck a chord with me, and I had aspired to be a force of positive change in the District like he was. He managed to take an awful situation and turn it into something good for the District. Hell, I’ve even seen firsthand the work he was able to do with Ma’s orphanage, working as their ranch hand. Yet, now, I feel helpless to do anything for them as Mace and Saffron hold each other’s hands, and the cameras pan to the rest of the Emberstatts. Coralee’s plump cheeks and effervescent smile are no longer there. Kieran and Paige look shattered; I’m surprised they even showed up. And I still can’t even bring myself to look at Mason.

I hate feeling useless and unable to do anything, yet this is like my older books, where the protagonist is learning to process his or her emotions. I need to give everyone, including myself, space to process everything that happened this past year. They may still need time to process what happened to Emerson. His loss was felt among both prominent families of Ten. And here I stand, in the blistering heat, unable to do anything about it. It’s hard to know that I only added to their drama. Granted, they were right when they said the relationship wasn’t right. But now, I can only stand in the same cattle pen as other 18-year-olds, waiting for two poor names to be called again.

I usually tune out in the past years; however, there is a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. This is worse than when Mason and I ended our relationship. A voice in my head keeps whispering, “Pay attention; you need to be present today.” I don’t know why my intuition is acting up since it seldom does, yet I decide to listen to it and tune into the ending remarks of Mayor Novak’s speech. I see Cecily, the girl I’ve been crushing on, out of the corner of my eye, and she gives me a concerned look. Apparently, the knot of nerves in my core is visible in my features, and I don’t blame her for being concerned. I’ve gained a reputation for being laid back when I’m not working, having my nose in a book, or trying to keep up with my schoolwork. This is a new feeling for me.

The escort for our District calls the reaping to order, and I feel like I got struck with a wave of vertigo when I hear the name called.

“Jericho Caleb!”

What the actual fuck? The others turn toward me, and some even start to make a path for me. I want to puke not only because I was reaped but because I know I have to try and confront my past with the Lowes and Emberstatts before I am thrust into the Arena. My legs take heavy, leaden steps toward the stage as I try my best to keep my nerves under control. I don’t have a choice; it’s not like there will be another volunteer to take my place. Each stair I take only cements the fact that I am now forced to confront my emotions, and that is scarier than realizing that this might be the end for me.