The Sun (Open)

"Yes, I was. I'm Jonathan," I reply to the girl's unstated question. I shrug. We share the high cheekbones and black hair, but her tan complexion, short stature, and violet eyes contrast with my pale skin, giant-ness, blue eyes, and underbite. At least the specks in our eyes that shimmer and flare are similar.

Then, I turn back to Coryn. "You're the guy training with her? She talks about you quite a bit at home. Drives me crazy sometimes. You're Coryn?" I pretend I know nothing. The truest part of my words was probably the her-ranting-about-you-drives-me-crazy part. He's not that bad looking, at least, from what I know. Sure looks better than the rats we test on. They're probably the living souls I spend most time with.

I'd better learn more the natural way. Asking Amy is risky--she sometimes puts her bias into her words so I don't always learn the complete set of facts from her.

"What do you think of her skills? I think out of the three of us here, you're the one who spends most time in training. I'm definitely dead meat if they ever Reaped me, unless medicinal skills are appreciated."

What bothers me most is that this kid met Amy one night. What was Amy doing out at night in the first place? I sense another confrontation tonight. She shouldn't be wandering out at night--not until I find some cure for her eyes, at least, or we're rich enough to pay Grandma for a pair of those night-vision goggles they have in the Capitol. I hide my frustration for now and save it for tonight. What kind of a doctor will I be if I can't even help my sister in these [little] matters?

This guy actually seems quite into this stuff. I don't see how people can talk so freely about killing people--it's been something about Amy I've never understood.

"She doesn't know how to use a spear? Hmm. Here I was, thinking she knew everything. Hey, so you're a Career, right? Amy says you're super nice even though you're a Career. It's always 'Coryn this, Coryn that'. She doesn't think I listen, but hey, sometimes, I actually do." I'm not sure Amy would actually approve of my telling him this. Oh well.

I turn now to this girl, Belameane, I learned that day. Her black hair is nearly as dark as mine, and it reaches down her back, so long. She'd be pretty cute, if it weren't for the obviously revealing clothes. I always get a little fidgety around girls with that kind of appearance. She doesn't act that way, though--she's really nice, from what I can tell, and a little clumsy and so herself. "So, Belameane, do you have any siblings?" I ask lamely, trying to find some excuse to talk to her.

"Scared? Really now? Why would she be scared because of you?" Belameane seems to be your typical girl to me, aside from the fact that Amy said she hasn't gone to school much these days and her immune system is a slight bit weak. I know a plant in these woods where we're standing that could help boost immunity, so I don't see any issue with Belameane.

I shrug. "You're lucky, I guess. At least you don't have to put up with your parents blaming you for something your sibling did. You don't get to get away with things though because there's only you to blame.

"I remember a time when Amy borrowed the family camera and I ended up breaking it--Amy was the one my parents turned on. I felt guilty, but we put up with the sort of stuff all the time so nothing special to it," I say with another shrug.