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thinking； I pull an arrow from my quiver and send it straight at the Gamemakersˇ table。 I hear shouts of alarm as people stumble back。 The arrow skewers the apple in the pigˇs mouth and pins it to the wall behind it。 Everyone stares at me in disbelief。
¨Thank you for your consideration；〃 I say。 Then I give a slight bow and walk straight toward the exit without being dismissed。
8
As I stride toward the elevator； I fling my bow to one side and my quiver to the other。 I brush past the gaping Avoxes who guard the elevators and hit the number twelve button with my fist。 The doors slide together and I zip upward。 I actually make it back to my floor before the tears start running down my cheeks。 I can hear the others calling me from the sitting room； but I fly down the hall into my room； bolt the door； and fling myself onto my bed。 Then I really begin to sob。
Now Iˇve done it！ Now Iˇve ruined everything！ If Iˇd stood even a ghost of chance； it vanished when I sent that arrow flying at the Gamemakers。 What will they do to me now？ Arrest me？ Execute me？ Cut my tongue and turn me into an Avox so I can wait on the future tributes of Panem？ What was I thinking； shooting at the Gamemakers？ Of course； I wasnˇt； I was shooting at that apple because I was so angry at being ignored。 I wasnˇt trying to kill one of them。 If I were； theyˇd be dead！
Oh； what does it matter？ Itˇs not like I was going to win the Games anyway。 Who cares what they do to me？ What really scares me is what they might do to my mother and Prim； how my family might suffer now because of my impulsiveness。 Will they take their few belongings； or send my mother to prison and Prim to the munity home； or kill them？ They wouldnˇt kill them； would they？ Why not？ What do they care？
I should have stayed and apologized。 Or laughed； like it was a big joke。 Then maybe I would have found some leniency。 But instead I stalked out of the place in the most disrespectful manner possible。
Haymitch and Effie are knocking on my door。 I shout for them to go away and eventually they do。 It takes at least an hour for me to cry myself out。 Then I just lay curled up on the bed； stroking the silken sheets； watching the sun set over the artificial candy Capitol。
At first； I expect guards to e for me。 But as time passes； it seems less likely。 I calm down。 They still need a girl tribute from District 12； donˇt they？ If the Gamemakers want to punish me； they can do it publicly。 Wait until Iˇm in the arena and sic starving wild animals on me。 You can bet theyˇll make sure I donˇt have a bow and arrow to defend myself。
Before that though； theyˇll give me a score so low； no one in their right mind would sponsor me。 Thatˇs what will happen tonight。 Since the training isnˇt open to viewers； the Gamemakers announce a score for each player。 It gives the audience a starting place for the betting that will continue throughout the Games。 The number； which is between one and twelve； one being irredeemably bad and twelve being unattainably high； signifies the promise of the tribute。 The mark is not a guarantee of which person will win。 Itˇs only an indication of the potential a tribute showed in training。 Often； because of the variables in the actual arena； high…scoring tributes go down almost immediately。 And a few years ago； the boy who won the Games only received a three。 Still； the scores can help or hurt an individual tribute in terms of sponsorship。 I had been hoping my shooting skills might get me a six or a seven； even if Iˇm not particularly powerful。 Now Iˇm sure Iˇll have the lowest score of the twenty…four。 If no one sponsors me； my odds of staying alive decrease to almost zero。
When Effie taps on the door to call me to dinner； I decide I may as well go。 The scores will be televised tonight。 Itˇs not like I can hide what happened forever。 I go to the bathroom and wash my face； but itˇs still red and splotchy。
Everyoneˇs waiting at the table； even Cinna and Portia。 I wish the stylists hadnˇt shown up because for some reason； I donˇt like the idea of disappointing them。 Itˇs as if Iˇve thrown away all the good work they did on the opening ceremonies without a thought。 I avoid looking at anyone as I take tiny spoonfuls of fish soup。 The saltiness reminds me of my tears。
The adults begin some chitchat about the weather forecast； and I let my eyes meet Peetaˇs。 He raises his eyebrows。 A question。 What happened？ I just give my head a small shake。 Then； as theyˇre serving the main course； I hear Haymitch say； ¨Okay； enough small talk； just how bad were you today？〃
Peeta jumps in。 ¨I donˇt know that it mattered。 By the time I showed up； no one even bothered to look at me。 They were singing some kind of drinking song； I think。 So； I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go。〃
That makes me feel a bit better。 Itˇs not like Peeta attacked the Gamemakers； but at least he was provoked； too。
¨And you； sweetheart？〃 says Haymitch。
Somehow Haymitch calling me sweetheart ticks me off enough that Iˇm at least able to speak。 ¨I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers。〃
Everyone stops eating。 ¨You what？〃 The horror in Effieˇs voice confirms my worse suspicions。
¨I shot an arrow at them。 Not exactly at them。 In their direction。 Itˇs like Peeta said； I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just 。 。 。 I just lost my head； so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pigˇs mouth！〃 I say defiantly。
¨And what did they say？〃 says Cinna carefully。
¨Nothing。 Or I donˇt know。 I walked out after that；〃 I say。
¨Without being dismissed？〃 gasps Effie。
¨I dismissed myself；〃 I said。 I remember how I promised Prim that I really would try to win and I feel like a ton of coal has dropped on me。
¨Well； thatˇs that；〃 says Haymitch。 Then he butters a roll。
¨Do you think theyˇll arrest me？〃 I ask。 ¨Doubt it。 Be a pain to replace you at this stage；〃 says Haymitch。
¨What about my family？〃 I say。 ¨Will they punish them？〃
¨Donˇt think so。 Wouldnˇt make much sense。 See theyˇd have to reveal what happened in the Training Center for it to have any worthwhile effect on the population。 People would need to know what you did。 But they canˇt since itˇs secret； so itˇd be a waste of effort；〃 says Haymitch。 ¨More likely theyˇll make your life hell in the arena。〃
¨Well； theyˇve already promised to do that to us any way；〃 says Peeta。
¨Very true；〃 says Haymitch。 And I realize the impossible has happened。 They have actually cheered me up。 Haymitch picks up a pork chop with his fingers； which makes Effie frown； and dunks it in his wine。 He rips off a hunk of meat and starts to chuckle。 ¨What were their faces like？〃
I can feel the edges of my mouth tilting up。 ¨Shocked。 Terrified。 Uh； ridiculous； some of them。〃 An image pops into my mind。 ¨One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch。〃
Haymitch guffaws and we all start laughing except Effie； although even she is suppressing a smile。 ¨Well； it serves them right。 Itˇs their job to pay attention to you。 And just because you e from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you。〃 Then her eyes dart around as if sheˇs said something totally outrageous。 ¨Iˇm sorry； but thatˇs what I think；〃 she says to no one in particular。
¨Iˇll get a very bad score；〃 I say。
¨Scores only matter if theyˇre very good； no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones。 For all they know； you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose。 People use that strategy；〃 said Portia。
¨I hope thatˇs how people interpret the four Iˇll probably get；〃 says Peeta。 ¨If that。 Really； is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards。 One almost landed on my foot。〃
I grin at him and realize that Iˇm starving。 I cut off a piece of pork； dunk it in mashed potatoes； and start eating。 Itˇs okay。 My family is safe。 And if they are safe； no real harm has been done。
After dinner； we go to sitting room to watch the scores announced on television。 First they show a photo of the tribute； then flash their score below it。 The Career Tributes naturally get in the eight…to…ten range。 Most of the other players average a five。 Surprisingly； little Rue es up with a seven。 I donˇt know what she showed the judges； but sheˇs so tiny it must have been impressive。
District 12 es up last； as usual。 Peeta pulls an eight so at least a couple of the Gamemakers must have been watching him。 I dig my fingernails into my palms as my face es up； expecting the worst。 Then theyˇre flashing the number eleven on the screen。
Eleven！
Effie Trinket lets out a squeal； and everybody is slapping me on the back and cheering and congratulating me。 But it doesnˇt seem real。
¨There must be a mistake。 How 。 。 。 how could that happen？〃 I ask Haymitch。
¨Guess they liked your temper；〃 he says。 ¨Theyˇve got a show to put on。 They need some players with some heat。〃
¨Katniss； the girl who was on fire；〃 says Cinna and gives me a hug。 ¨Oh； wait until you see your interview dress。〃 ¨More flames？〃 I ask。 ¨Of a sort；〃 he says mischievously。
Peeta and I congratulate each other； another awkward moment。 Weˇve both done well； but what does that mean for the other？ I escape to my room as quickly as possible and burrow down under the covers。 The stress of the day； particularly the crying； has worn me out。 I drift off； reprieved； relieved； and with the number eleven still flashing behind my eyelids。
At dawn； I lie in bed for a while； watching the sun e up on a beautiful morning。 Itˇs Sunday。 A day off at home。 I wonder if Gale is in the woods yet。 Usually we devote all of Sunday to stocking up for the week。 Rising early； hunting and gathering； then trading at the Hob。 I think of Gale without me。 Both of us can hunt alone； but weˇre better as a pair。 Particularly if weˇre trying for bigger game。 But also in the littler things； having a partner lightened the load； could even make the arduous task of filling my familyˇs table enjoyable。
I had been struggling along on my own for about six months when I first ran into Gale in the woods。 It was a Sunday in October； the air cool and pungent with dying things。 Iˇd spent the morning peting with the squirrels for nuts and the slightly warmer afternoon wading in shallow ponds harvesting katniss。 The only meat Iˇd shot was a squirrel that had practically run over my toes in its quest for acorns； but the animals would still be afoot when the snow buried my other food sources。 Having strayed farther afield than usual； I was hurrying back home； lugging my burlap sacks when I came across a dead rabbit。 It was hanging by its neck in a thin wire a foot above my head。 About fifteen yards away was another。 I recognized the twitch…up snares because my father had used them。 When the prey is caught； itˇs yanked into the air out of the reach of other hungry animals。 Iˇd been trying to use snares all summer with no success； so I couldnˇt help dropping my sacks to examine this one。 My fingers were just on the wire above one of the rabbits when a voice rang out。 ¨Thatˇs dangerous。〃
I jumped back several feet as Gale materialized from behind a tree。 He must have been watching me the whole time。 He was only fourteen； but he cleared six feet and was as good as an adult to me。 Iˇd seen him around the Seam and at school。 And one other time。 Heˇd lost his father in the same blast that killed mine。 In January； Iˇd stood by while he received his medal of valor in the Justice Building； another oldest child with no father。 I remembered his two little brothers clutching his mother； a woman whose swollen belly announced she was just days away from giving birth。
¨Whatˇs your name？〃 he said； ing over and disengaging the rabbit from the snare。 He had another three hanging from his belt。
¨Katniss；〃 I said； barely audible。
¨Well； Catnip； stealingˇs punishable by death； or hadnˇt you heard？〃 he said。
¨Katniss；〃 I said louder。 ¨And I wasnˇt stealing it。 I just wanted to look at your snare。 Mine never catch anything。〃
He scowled at me； not convinced。 ¨So whereˇd you get the squirrel？〃
¨I shot it。〃 I pulled my bow off my shoulder。 I was still using the small version my father had made me； but Iˇd been practicing with the full…size one