You can tell by the way the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him. It makes me jealous but not for the reason people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find.

Still, I hate them. But, of course, I hate almost everybody now. Myself more than anyone.

You never know. Say the arena's actually a giant cake-" "Say we move on," I broke in.

I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.

I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking.

It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.

If I feel ragged, my prep team seems in worse condition, knocking back coffee and sharing brightly colored little pills. As far as I can tell, they never get up before noon unless there's some sort of national emergency, like my leg hair.