The Games of Loss: BTG Part 2 Chapter 4

When I awake, I'm greeted by sunlight and warmth.  I'm nuzzled up against Sam, who appears to be sleeping still.  I sigh and detach myself from him.  At this, he wakes up with a yawn.  Unfortunately, I'm still wrapped around him.

"Good morning," he says cheerfully, smiling at our closeness.

I do my best to smile. "Morning."  I can't say good morning if it isn't one.  

"What's wrong?" He takes my hand in his.  I push him away lightly.  

"I was just thinking.  Don't worry about it," I tell him, sitting up and rubbing my eyes groggily.

"Alright." He sighs, his smile fading.  I'm surprised he isn't protesting.  Surely he knows I'm lying.  "Are you hungry?" he asks.

I haven't even thought about food.  Not at all, not since yesterday morning when Richard told us to eat as much as we could.  Even then I was thinking more about the arena, like I am now.  To describe my feelings now would be like… like, oh I don't know!  I search for the right word, and come up with surreal.  It's not the right word, but it'll do.  It's surreal.  I wasn't prepared.  If our time in the Training Center was supposed to help us prepare for the arena, it didn't.  More like the opposite, actually.  Two weeks of the good life doesn't exactly prepare you for an arena in which you are forced to fight to the death.  Not at all.  No, I haven't even thought about food—until now.  I haven't eaten since yesterday morning, and I'm starved.  I can almost hear my stomach rumbling.  

"A little," I get out.  

"Me too.  Should we eat what we have, or should I shoot something…?"

I pause.  "Let's save what we have.  If you can catch something now, I'd say do it.  The food we have now won't get bad, but fresh meat will."

"Good point." Sam seems awful upset.  He was just fine a minute ago.  I had to have said something.  

"Sam?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Don't worry about it." He says coldly.  I find it odd that he's repeating something I just said.  "I'll be back." He gets up and grabs his bow.  

"Where are you going?" I call after him.  

"Hunting."

He steps through the bush and I lose sight of him before I can say any more.  It pains me to see him leave like this.  He wouldn't even tell me what was wrong… I stop myself.  Neither did I.  I just brushed him away like I'm so used to doing with other people.  That's what I do.  It was my natural instinct.  I don't share my feelings.  I keep them to myself.  That's what I've always done for as long as I can remember.  Maybe he's the same way.  I can't be mad at him.  He's mad at me.  I just have to figure out why.  

After a scary amount of time spent on debating whether or not I should go after him, Sam returns.  I have to admit, for a moment I thought he wouldn't come back.  I was afraid he would leave me, waiting on him forever.  No, he wouldn't do that to me.  He didn't do that to me.  He's back.  

"Sam." I rush to greet him.  

He gives me a blank stare.  "Hey."

"Hey!  What'cha got there?" I examine his kill.  Two squirrels, a few birds I don't recognize, and a fox.  

He ignores me and sits inside the tent.  I scrunch my face up in confusion as he grabs a knife from one of the backpacks.  I don't remember seeing that.  He starts skinning the animals.  I look away.  After a few minutes, he speaks in a sullen tone.  

"Why are you being nice to me?" He asks, never taking his eyes off the squirrel he's skinning.

"Why are you being mean to me?" The words that come out of my mouth are a surprise.

"Who said I was being mean to you?" He asks skeptically.  

"I did."

He sneers. "Cute."

"Will you just stop it?" I burst.  

"Stop what?" He smiles nastily.  

"Oh, like you don't know!"

"Try me."

"You are impossible."

"Thank you."

"I have never, once in my life, met someone like you!" I shout.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Ugh!  It is NOT a compliment!  It will NEVER be a compliment!  I have never met someone so idiotic, so arrogant, so down right stupid as you are!" I feel like throwing something at him.  

"And I have never met anyone so bitter."

That's it.  I'm done.  I'm done with him.  I want Sam back.  The nice, sweet Sam, not this evil, mean-spirited San who has enough of me to break me down with his every word.  I can feel cameras watching me, every eye in Panem trained on me, waiting to see what I'll do or say next.  I can't take it anymore.  I just want to escape from the cameras, from Sam, and be back in the woods of District Seven.  Since that isn't going to happen, I pause for a moment before slipping past the bush and into the woods.  I'm greeted with a shower of light and the feeling of freshness.  The woods are quiet except for the sound of birds chirping in the distance.  It gives me a peaceful feeling I haven't felt since I was back in District Seven.  I sit back against the trunk of a tree and take off my windbreaker.  I'm burning up.  Quickly and nimbly, I tie it around my waist.  I tilt back my head to rest against the rough trunk, and let my body relax.  The last thing I need now is more stress.  My eyes close and bring my knees up to my chest.  Suddenly I feel like sleeping…

The sound of crackling leaves opens my eyes and brings me to my senses.  I figure it's Sam, either coming with an apology or a witty remark.  I'm hoping for the apology.  Slowly, I push up against the ground and make it to my feet, taking my time.  Arms crossed, I turn around to face Sam.  But who I see is not Sam.  It's Levi.