He looks surprised, and maybe exasperated. I couldn’t blame him though, how else are you supposed to react when, while stuck in a giant arena with bloodthirsty teens, your ally sits down and pulls out a Language book?

“Really?” He dead-panned at me, “you brought a _Spanish school book _to the Hunger Games?”

I frowned, and argued back.

“Listen, I know its weird. But I’m not gonna lose my streak just because a buncha kids my age want to kill me. Besides, we could talk more without the cameras knowing!”

He did not find this amusing. Sad.

“You are the single most indescribable person I have ever known.” He groaned, and sat down next to me. Looking over my shoulder before wrinkling his nose. The nerve of him!

“If you want to keep your streak,” He said accusingly, “why didn’t you bring a phone of all things? Duolingo exists.”

In a fluid and silent motion, I closed the book and turned to face him. With the most blank expression I could have as I calmly say.

“They said non-lethal.”

That shut him up quick.