Prompt Group #3 | 03.1 Five Things | Rachel (Hunger Games)
1.
"So, Coach, you said we were going to get dinner?" one of the boys asked. They were coming back from their last rugby match of the season. Both teams had failed to qualify for the all-city tournament. They were pretty bad. Rachel especially was awful. She had gone through a growth spurt over the summer and now stood at a metre ninety-seven - and sixty kilos. She didn't need anyone to tackle her to trip. Her own two feet did the job.
"We are. How does all-you-can-eat sushi sound?"
Mom and Dad had made sushi a few times. It really wasn't anything too expensive - rice, vegetables, tofu, seaweed - but it was a pain to make, so usually, they just had rice with vegetables.
"That's great, Coach! Thank you so much!"
Coach always got them dinner after matches. No other coach did that, he was special.
2.
Rachel hadn't had any particular expectations for the rugby team this year. Her prep school wasn't known for sports - it was the place middle-class people sent their overachieving kids so they'd get into university easier. It still stung somewhat that they were so awful. Losing on the sports field was fine, she didn't really care, but she wished they could win for once. On the bus back, she daydreamed about scoring tries.
3.
It was scary to be big. Rachel hadn't realized how much weight she had gained in the off-season until she noticed the girls in practice bouncing off her like off a wall. Alright, there were some heavier girls, but Rachel was only eighteen percent fat. She had gotten it measured out of curiosity.
As she sat on the bus back from the all-Capitol round of sixteen - they had lost - everyone kept on talking about how she had single-handedly carried them. The boys hadn't qualified even for city. Rugby was a team sport, but having a human wrecking ball on your team helped. She had accidentally given a girl a concussion in city finals. The girl must have been half her weight and had made the mistake of not getting out of Rachel's way.
4.
"Rachel, what would we do without you?" Emma said on the bus back from city finals, which they had won.
"I'm not the only person on the team," Rachel said awkwardly.
"Yes, only the best one."
Rachel shrugged. Over the summer, Dad had had her join matches with his squad, and they were elite counterterrorist operatives. They were all the size of Dad, but younger and moved faster. Compared to them, Rachel was slow and weak. Granted, the requirements to get in were so stringent, there was only one woman in the squad right now, and she was as tall as Rachel but with broader shoulders.
"No, really, I can't imagine how you made that catch."
Coach jumped in. "It's rare to see a big kid who's so agile."
"I'm not that big." In build, Rachel took after her slender grandmother, except scaled up.
"Bigger than anyone we've ever opposed."
That had never seemed fair, that Rachel could show up and simply use her size to dominate. In wrestling, there were weight classes, but here, it was her against tiny fourteen-year-olds.
5.
Obviously, they lost pretty badly in the all-Capitol tournament. They had a well-coordinated team made up of bad to mediocre players and Rachel. Their loss in the quarter-finals had been an absolute demolition, and the only bright spot had been Coach exploding when the opposing team's coach said it was unfair to have a thug like Rachel go up against 'proper' people.
"Are you going to continue playing once you're in university?" Coach asked her on their way to all-you-can-eat noodles.
"If I get through tryouts, I guess."
Coach shook his head. "Oh, you will. You're a great player, Rachel. I'd say you were an excellent team player even if I didn't know about your ASD, and since I know about it, I can only say you read the field magnificently and are a good teammate. Not to mention that you're fast, strong, agile, you throw the ball accurately."
Rachel didn't think she was that good. She just shrugged.
5+1.
Returning back to the Capitol from Thirteen, Rachel wondered if she'd ever play sports again. For sure she'd never play soccer, not after their coach had sold them out to the recruiters and gotten half the players killed. Her university rugby teammates had mostly gone voluntarily, and also died.
Coming back from matches had always been fun, win or lose. Coming back from war was awful even though by any reasonable standards, returning minus merely an arm was an absolute win.