// What are //marijuana// tablets// {Kneedles}

Wrinkling her nose at the mud below her boots, Tallow nonetheless slid down the side of the barn and into the dirt, trying to retain as much dignity, as much superiority as a fifteen year old girl could at a fair in district ten, up against a barn. With forefinger and thumb, Tallow took the brownie Swallow Anne handed her and surveyed it sceptically while the girl next to her wasted no time on making it disappear. Maybe Tallow would let her friend road test it first- check for signs of nausea, shortness of breath, death and that sort of thing- she thought, sniffing the brownie and realising that the sweaty dick comparison was far from an exaggeration.“Likes expermentin’ don’t he…your Daniel,” she said, grimacing at the still untouched brownie. “Well you’d know…unless… you still aint fucked him yet?

Swallow Anne was boring her getting moony eyed over some sheep herder that Tallow didn’t even know let alone approved of and that didn’t sit right with her. It was okay to fuck around because it didn’t matter, but Tallow knew her friend well enough to immediately distrust the look in her eye and the heavy way she said whatever dumbass name his dumbass sheep herding parents had given him, it was a look that spoke of more than just fucking around which wasn’t right because Tallow was the only one who was supposed to matter.

“Oh Swal,” said Tallow with a sort of disappointed sigh, stretching back against the side of the barn with the motions of a rangy, but nonetheless graceful, cat. “What happened? I used to think there weren’t any man you couldn’t get.” She looked out at the crowd and snorted cruelly, “Not that you’d want any of this bunch.” A slack jawed hick type with a straw clenched between his splayed teeth flashed Tallow and Swallow a wink as he walked past, leading a goat into the barns. Tallow spread her legs wide, cupped her tit in one hand and gave him the finger with the other.

“Fucking hicks, fucking district,” she muttered, taking a large bite of the brownie as he passed. To make the fair more bearable, to make all the assholes just go away.

Tallow rarely received gifts from people- especially ones that were for seemingly no reasons. She could remember birthdays from when she was very very young; the cake oozing jam at the centre, hot wax dripping onto the sweet icing as she blew out the candles- but those stopped abruptly by the time she turned eight. After that her birthday tended to pass by without much fanfare or notice- if Scutcher asked her what she wanted, Tallow would lie and say nothing. Because they didn’t have the money. Because gifts were dumb, whether they were birthday presents or gifts for seemingly no reason. Looking at the bracelet, she had all the scepticism of a girl presented with the barrel of a loaded gun, swallowed heavily before reaching out.

Thanks Swallow-Anne, I love it, she could have said but didn’t, taking it in her fingers and slipping it around her wrist. “It don’t exactly go with what I’m wearing- but it’s...nice... I guess,” she shrugged, mumbling as she fiddled with the clasp. “Hope you aint wasted too much of your money on it.” But she couldn’t really hide the smile lurking at the corners of her mouth, looking a little more like a grimace than anything else.

But Swallow Anne ruined it the minute she mentioned Nakota’s name and her expression turned ugly.“I just think he ain’t good enough fer you,”shrugged Tallow, forcing her voice to sound simply conversational and impassive as she pulled her knees up into her chest, starting to roll a cigarette between her deft fingers. “He’s just some borin’ farm hand. Like every other borin’ farm hand in this district…we can be borin’ when we’re older. But right now Swal…” lighting the ciggarette a tendril of smoke slipped out of her mouth and coiled like a serpant, “right now we’re better than that.” Tallow didn’t necessarily believe her words but it was a nice thought wasn’t it? They were pretty and they had so much left to live for and a high chance that they would die. Their bodies were young, firm and fecund, with three or four years left teetering on the brink of death.

Perhaps in ten years time when that fear left them it would be the time to meet farm hands and smile when they said their names. The time to forget about death and all of their dreams, get married or raise a family; play the other longer, quieter, less bloody game. The game where there never were any victors because everyone had to die in the end. Tallow was lucky in that she’d never get the chance to be boring though- she wouldn’t ever get married or have kids, obviously but she could picture Swallow Anne getting saddled with babies too early, stuck with someone bland named Nakota becoming another Noreen Lexington time when really she deserved to shine like a firework. Tallow felt sorry for her, counted her blessings that she and Scutcher were one of the lucky ones.

“I’m mean Elias is an okay choice coz he’s got money an’ everything, but he’s bein’…weird lately,” Tallow began, speaking to herself more than Swallow Anne, resolving to find her someone else- get her over this Nakota phase. “Some of the old fellas with ranches aint so bad if you don’t mind workin’ for hours on a limp dick!” Tallow giggled, swinging her cigarette and spilling ash onto the hay- wondering if the brownies were taking effect already. “I wonder what would happen if you screwed the mayor, can you imagine! Or a victor. Dint you say Mace Emberstatt was always nice to you?”

You know Mace's like my big brother, used to even take care of me lots when I was a kid. The explosive giggles that Swallow Anne let out felt like separate shards of glass piercing somewhere between Tallow’s ribcage as she began to fiddle with her bracelet, picking idly at the beading and the thread work. Shut up, Tallow could have hissed, back up, defensive as she always was.

Scutcher and Tallow took care of each other too, all that other stuff Swallow Anne talked about and more- Tallow didn’t doubt. Would Swallow Anne laugh if she knew? Tallow tried to imagine up her friends reaction if she just, right there and then, sat back and turned to her friend. “You know me and Scutcher are doing it right? Pretty much whenever we’re sure we can get away with it. In his room, in my room, in the pig sheds and the smokehouse. Three days ago we went at each other in the outhouse while our dad was passed out in the yard. It wasn’t an accident, it wasn’t a onetime thing that we both regret and won’t ever talk about again. It’s just f-cked up and every night I’m f-cked, so utterly and so entirely by my brother that I don’t actually care.” She knew Swallow Anne better than she knew herself, like a sister, like her mother but Tallow just can’t imagine up the reaction. She wouldn’t understand though, Tallow was sure of it; none of them understood. To do that Swallow would have to see for herself.

“So?” Is all that Tallow said when she looked up from her bracelet, taking another deep drag of her cigarette. “He aint actually your brother, is he?” And even if he was, who gives a shit? It’s not like it’s hurting anyone; the Hunger Games are allowed to happen but for some reason loving someone in your family that way is sick and wrong. What a fucking world. She wanted to say, but didn’t dare, slightly afraid that the moment she did Swallow Anne would begin to suspect something. Sure Swallow Anne was aware that the two Tansy kids were close; Tallow couldn’t hide the comfortable way their hands slotted together as they walked, the way that her body would subconsciously lean into Scutcher’s, to stroke his hair or toy with his shirt if he was there and she was talking to someone else- but no one ever leapt to other scenarios. No one thought the absolute worst.

“That kind of stuff…like…at least he’d treat you good or whatever. Wouldn’t choke you or nothing.” She tipped her head to the side,“And a lot of girls- a whole lot- would kill to have that kinda history with a victor,” And boys too, Tallow knew- though Swallow Anne probably didn’t. Lucky girl in her own world of moprhling and brownies, pretty pouts and men’s gazes. “I mean aint you a bit curious of what it’d be like? Plus it's the kind of lay you could really be proud of.” She’d smoked her cigarette down to the sub and flicked it away callously out in front of her, knowing full well her next words were pretty much magic. Open sesame, Tallow would say and out fanned Swallow Anne’s pretty little legs. “I’d sure as shoot be proud of you.”

"Ain't my real brother...Ain't gotta family..."It was faintly amusing to Tallow the way that people always thought that other people had it better. On paper Tallow probably had everything that her friend and a lot of the kids at the community home wanted; she had both her parents, a brother who always looked out for her and a whole mess of cousins out west where her Mom had grown up; right at the edges of the district on one of those big lonely farms where only the buffalo and coyotes were their neighbours. Picture perfect, right, like one of those framed watercolours she’d spotted for sale at a booth- like anyone in the district had money to spend on art. There were cracks everywhere though, paint chipping away and their painted smiles had slipped away years ago. If it weren’t for Scutcher, Tallow might have taken off to a community home herself as soon as things had gone bad. And she wouldn’t have missed her parents at all- not for one second. If they both went and hung themselves from a rafter in the smokehouse, punched their own tickets like Naif Malloc’s had Tallow doubted she would waste one tear, might summon enough fluid to spit on her father’s corpse but that was about it.

“Dunno how he'd want a girl like me. He likes 'em older and smarter. But maybe he'll notice me now that I ain't so fat and chubby and got big ole tits like the girls he used to hang around with..." A little giggle escaped Tallow’s throat- partly cruel, partly fond and partly the brownies coursing through her system- as she remembered how Swallow Anne was before puberty; ‘Waddle Anne’ they used to say behind her back, (fondly of course) though even then the boys still came running. Mostly because she was offering. “Men aint nothin’ but dick and ego,” said Tallow with a shrug. “None of ‘em want us older and smarter. Some pretend they do to feel better about themselves…more refined or whatever. But at the end of it,” she smiled a secret smile to herself, enigmatic and womanly as though she held the answers to life itself hidden in the off-white cotton of her underthings, “they all just want the same thing. And you got it by the shovel full Swallow Anne.”

In her way, Tallow pitied men, for the most part they were so very easy to figure out. A flick of the hair, a smile that was all theirs- in district ten possession was everything; you owned your farm, you owned those cows and if only for a night, they wanted to own the prettiest girl they could find. Stamp their own unique branding iron on her ass. Scutcher doesn’t count, she reminded herself, he ain’t smart enough to be mean. “You just...satisfy his ego and the dick follows as easy as anythin'. Let him take care of you...make him feel like a big man and show him your tits. Easy” she shrugged, pausing as a strange surge coursed through her head, sending her leaning further into the barn as her mouth twitched, “Fuuuck Swall what’s in those brownies?”