Cold, Alone and Starving {open}

I look down at my hands. To anyone else, this would seem like a harmless question. For me, it means punishment. May e even directly from the Capitol. I can't exactly tell them the truth now, can I? That would blow up everything in my face.
I finger the small journal in my vest, the one thing I took with me. I got it only a month ago. "Don't have one." I say, not making eye contact. I hope my cheeks aren't turning red. They always do when I lie. Maybe Jason's dad will think I'm just cold.

I look up at Jason's dad with a smile. "Thank you," I say quietly. This is more then I could ever ask for. I look up at Jason with eager brown eyes when he asks if I want to train. I don't have a weapon on me, but I'll find something. I've trained a few times before, with knives and a slingshot. The slingshot is my best weapon. I use it with ease. I know I could never use an axe or mace. They are far too heavy for me.
I remember a few years ago I tried out an axe, but I couldn't lift it, let alone give it a good solid swing. I nod in agreement, and leave my seat. "Sure," I say. "Do you happen to have a weapon I could use?"
I realize these are the most words I've said to Jason since he sat next to me on the street. I wonder why this matters to me, but I push it out of my mind.

I smile and take the slingshot, noticing this is only the second time I've seen Jason smile, and he's only smiled at me. Is he just being friendly, or is it something else? Again, I push the thought away.
I take out a sharp piece of metal, aim, and hit the string that holds the target, not missing a bit. The target clatters to the ground. I stay there for a minute, happy with the shot. Then I realize I e just ruined Jason's target. "I guess should fix that." I say with a nervous laugh, then start to walk over to it.

I nod and take one end of the target, tying it up. He has clever fingers, easily knotting the string. My hand brushes his as I fix the string, and I pull away shyly. Idiot. I say to myself, then grab my slingshot, cheeks hot with embarresment. I slowly walk back to where I was standing before, not meeting his gaze. I take another shot, this time hitting the center of the target. "So how long have you and your father lived here?" I ask, trying to start a conversation.
I shoot another piece of metal, and it clinks against the first one.

I bite my lip. It must be hard to have a family member die. Then I remember, both my parents are supposed to be dead. How can I answer him without telling the truth? I stay quiet for a minute, shooting three more metal pieces at the target.
I nod, buying time. "I've haven't seen you before today." I say, avoiding the topic about parents. "Do you get around much?"
I find myself wanting to tell him about my parents, but I can't! They'll send me back home for sure.

I nod, idly shooting metal into the target. Every single one hits the middle ring. What else can I talk about? I can't seem to think of anything. I glance up to see the moon rising. Has it really been that long since we came outside? It only felt like a fe minutes. I glance at Jason, watching him.
I haven't seen him throw a single knife, except for that first open when we came outside. He's a pretty good shot.

My eyes widen as I watch him hit knife after knife deep into the bull's eye. He isn't that bad. But I don't let myself get beaten by him: my own shots are embedding themselves deep into the center of the target. I glance over my shoulder to see him putting away the throwing knives. What time is it? The moon is almost at the center of the sky, so it's probably 11:oo.
"We should probably get to bed." I say, putting away the slingshot.