Chapter Seventeen: Palana

Palana, Nathan and Sean are already in the dining room, waiting for us; Sean, it seems, hasn't moved from the place he'd been this morning at breakfast. The tension between Palana and Nathan is palpable (though, not the kind of tension it seems Palana wants); I can't quite tell if she's annoyed or hurt, whereas Nathan looks moody, and is refusing to look in her direction. His time with her surely hadn't gone well, and I feel more apprehensive about spending the next four hours with her myself. I suppose, though, that the dynamics are quite different. Maybe I won't have as hard of a time. Or maybe, mine will be worse.

The Capitol attendants file in, carrying serving platters and setting them up on the table. There's one in particular-- a young woman with pale skin and wide eyes-- that seems to be struggling with the three dishes she's been set to carry. "Do you need help?" I ask her, and she jumps when I do, but doesn't answer, eyes averting quickly from mine. I frown; I've never heard any of the attendants speak. Were they not allowed to speak to me? Was me offering to help her rude somehow?"

Sean sees the interaction and my confusion in the aftermath and leans over, shaking his head. "They can't talk to you," he whispers, and I frown deeper. "No, Zania, literally-- they've had their tongues cut out. They're avoxes-- all traitors against the Capitol, in one way or another. The worst traitors get executed, of course, but the rest... become avoxes." I shudder, and he looks sour. "Don't get caught talking to them in front of anyone from the Capitol-- you're not supposed to unless you're giving them an order. That's for them, not for you. They'll get punished."

Though I'd been starving after my session with Olivia, I've lost my appetite. I try to be careful and sneaky about it as I eye the avoxes, doing so from behind my hair. I can't help but wonder what crimes they committed. What was the scale-- what crime was bad enough to become an avox, but not bad enough to need an execution?

Palana breaks me out of my thoughts, clearing her throat sharply. Nathan continuing to give her the cold shoulder has turned whatever mood she'd been into before into something quite dangerous, and now it's focused on me. "Zania, if you're going to eat, be quick about it. We need to start soon, and I will not delay because you want to waste my time by prolonging your lunch." 

I frown, but nod, trying to at least get something down. Sean and Nathan retire first, going to Sean's room for their session, and when I'm done, I push my plate aside, and Palana hardly spares a second before ushering me over to the sitting room. I go to sit on the couch, but Palana lets out a tsk, so I stay standing, eyeing her uncomfortably. 

"What-" I begin, about to ask her what she want's me to do, but she interrupts me with a raised hand.

"Be quiet a moment," she snaps, circling me. "I'm trying to get a grasp on what you need to improve. One afternoon isn't nearly enough to rid you of your defects. I need to figure out where to prioritize." The word defects upsets me, lower lip jutting out in a pout.

Palana either doesn't notice or pretends not to, but begins muttering to herself. "You'll have to learn how to sit, obviously. And how to walk-- that's non-negotiable."

"I'm twelve, not two," I mutter back crossly. "I'm well acquainted with walking and talking."

"Not properly," she insists angrily. "I don't know what they do to you in District Nine, but every tribute, every year... It's like you all try to look classless. The Capitol has standards, Zania, and if you want a sponsor to even give you a second thought, you need to meet them." She comes to a stop in front of me. "Your posture is better than your brother's; it's something, at least, but we still have a lot of work to do."

The session starts with a bit of dress-up-- Palana provides me with heels and a floor-length gown to practice walking in, informing me that while they weren't what I'd be wearing tomorrow, it'd be close enough, and I needed all the practice I could get. So I walked, and walked, and walked-- up and down the length of the sitting area, earning harsh criticism every time I stumble and trip. Even when I'm more steady and stop tripping, she's not happy; there's always a comment about how I need to walk like a lady not a giraffe-- shoulders back, chest out, chin up, don't keep the arms so stiff... The moment I focus on one aspect of it all to correct it, everything else suffers, and so the steady stream of nitpicking and insults don't pause for a second. I make the mistake of groaning after one particular critique ("Walk with gentle steps, on the balls of your feet! You're a lady, not an elephant!"), and get an earful about how I got a poor training score and had more ground to make up than anyone else. It stings, but she's right, so I power through, trying to tune out her harsh words while I focus on their constructive content.

When we're done working on my walk (or, in Palana's words, when she gives up on teaching me), we move from topic to topic. I never quite master anything, just getting to the point where I can do it passably and Palana decides we need to work on something else. She teaches me the 'proper' way to smile, how to sit down, and how to hold myself while I am sitting. A good hour is spent on microexpressions, something Palana is quite sure will have Caesar eating out of the palm of my hand should I perfect them (which, she reminds me, she's sure I won't). I'm advised that I always need to keep a soft, kind, polite tone, no matter how irritated I may be, which given how the afternoon's gone, I feel like I have plenty of practice with. 

I know Palana is just trying to help-- that most of her bad mood is directed at Nathan, for one reason or another, and I am just an outlet for that. It took me a while for it to click, but it's clear to me now how interested Palana is in Nathan; which, to be frank, feels quite icky, especially given how Olivia told me how old Palana is. But it's also clear to me that Nathan has not been receptive one bit, and Palana isn't used to not getting what she wants. When I frame her attitude with me more as a small, spoiled child acting out because they haven't gotten their way, it's easier for me to concentrate and deal with her. I'd spent the past few years taking care of Alex, after all. 

Alex. The though of my baby brother almost knocks the wind out of me-- I hadn't thought about my family in days. I know that's probably not unheard of, especially given how much I've gone through, but I still felt guilty. I missed them dearly.

I wonder how they're doing, their faces flashing in my mind one by one. Mama, in particular-- I worried for her. She was already in a right state, ever since Katie was born. I was very scared that the Reaping would only make that worse, and put her in a place she'd never return from. 

Katie. My eyes start to prickle. She still was so young; didn't even have object permanence yet. If Nathan and I don't come home, she won't remember either of us at all. I remember how Dad had been in the Justice Building, shutting down and in shock. What if he shut down all the way? What if Mama really went past the point of no return? If our family never speaks of us again because the memories are just too painful, will Katie even know we existed?

I frown, trying to stamp that down. Alex would remember me. And he was young enough now to bounce back-- he'd tell her about us. Louisia and David, too; they were strong. They wouldn't forget, and if my parents lost control, they'd be sure to right the ship before it went too far off-course. 

Nathan was planning on me going home, too. I didn't really want to think much about what that all implied, but if I win, I'd make sure he would never be forgotten. Katie and Alex both would hear about him every day, and about every sacrifice he'd made. How brave and kind he was-- is. I wouldn't let any of it be in vain. 

Palana's nagging brings me back to the present, and after a few parting remarks-- all of them nasty and rude-- I am dismissed. I make a big show of stomping out of the sitting room, trying to make a bit of a scene, but I'm not that angry. I just want everyone to think I am so they'll leave me alone. Thinking about my family was painful, and the wave of that grief that had washed over me left me shell-shocked. I was heartbroken, and now that my interview prep was over, I needed to be alone.

Once I'm safely in the room Nathan and I share, I close the door, frustrated to see there's no lock. I know that this is Nathan's space too, and it's not fair to bar him out of it, but I was too overwhelmed to really care about that-- he'd manage. But, seeing as there was nothing I could do with the bedroom door, I retreat to the bathroom, putting another degree of separation between me and anyone trying to find me.

I turn on the water for the shower, but don't step under it, instead putting my back against one of the walls and sliding down until I'm seated. And while using the water as cover, I let myself cry.