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¨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 when I could。 I was hoping that by spring I might be able to bring down some bigger game。
Galeˇs eyes fastened on the bow。 ¨Can I see that？〃 I handed it over。 ¨Just remember； stealingˇs punishable by death。〃
That was the first time I ever saw him smile。 It transformed him from someone menacing to someone you wished you knew。 But it took several months before I returned that smile。
We talked hunting then。 I told him I might be able to get him a bow if he had something to trade。 Not food。 I wanted knowledge。 I wanted to set my own snares that caught a belt of fat rabbits in one day。 He agreed something might be worked out。 As the seasons went by； we grudgingly began to share our knowledge； our weapons； our secret places that were thick with wild plums or turkeys。 He taught me snares and fishing。 I showed him what plants to eat and eventually gave him one of our precious bows。 And then one day； without either of us saying it； we became a team。 Dividing the work and the spoils。 Making sure that both our families had food。
Gale gave me a sense of security Iˇd lacked since my fatherˇs death。 His panionship replaced the long solitary hours in the woods。 I became a much better hunter when I didnˇt have to look over my shoulder constantly； when someone was watching my back。 But he turned into so much more than a hunting partner。 He became my confidante； someone with whom I could share thoughts I could never voice inside the fence。 In exchange； he trusted me with his。 Being out in the woods with Gale 。 。 。 sometimes I was actually happy。
I call him my friend； but in the last year itˇs seemed too casual a word for what Gale is to me。 A pang of longing shoots through my chest。 If only he was with me now！ But； of course； I donˇt want that。 I donˇt want him in the arena where heˇd be dead in a few days。 I just 。 。 。 I just miss him。 And I hate being so alone。 Does he miss me？ He must。
I think of the eleven flashing under my name last night。 I know exactly what heˇd say to me。 ¨Well； thereˇs some room for improvement there。〃 And then heˇd give me a smile and Iˇd return it without hesitating now。
I canˇt help paring what I have with Gale to what Iˇm pretending to have with Peeta。 Hootives while I do nothing but doubt the latterˇs。 Itˇs not a fair parison really。 Gale and I were thrown together by a mutual need to survive。 Peeta and I know the otherˇs survival means our own death。 How do you sidestep that？
Effieˇs knocking at the door； reminding me thereˇs another ¨big； big； big day！〃 ahead。 Tomorrow night will be our televised interviews。 I guess the whole team will have their hands full readying us for that。
I get up and take a quick shower； being a bit more careful about the buttons I hit； and head down to the dining room。 Peeta； Effie； and Haymitch are huddled around the table talking in hushed voices。 That seems odd； but hunger wins out over curiosity and I load up my plate with breakfast before I join them。
The stewˇs made with tender chunks of lamb and dried plums today。 Perfect on the bed of wild rice。 Iˇve shoveled about halfway through the mound when I realize no oneˇs talking。 I take a big gulp of orange juice and wipe my mouth。 ¨So； whatˇs going on？ Youˇre coaching us on interviews today； right？〃
¨Thatˇs right；〃 says Haymitch。
¨You donˇt have to wait until Iˇm done。 I can listen and cat at the same time；〃 I say。
¨Well； thereˇs been a change of plans。 About our current approach；〃 says Haymitch。
¨Whatˇs that？〃 I ask。 Iˇm not sure what our current approach is。 Trying to appear mediocre in front of the other tributes is the last bit of strategy I remember。
Haymitch shrugs。 ¨Peeta has asked to be coached separately。〃
9
Betrayal。 Thatˇs the first thing I feel； which is ludicrous。 For there to be betrayal； there would have had to been trust first。 Between Peeta and me。 And trust has not been part of the agreement。 Weˇre tributes。 But the boy who risked a beating to give me bread； the one who steadied me in the chariot； who covered for me with the redheaded Avox girl； who insisted Haymitch know my hunting skills 。 。 。 was there some part of me that couldnˇt help trusting him？
On the other hand； Iˇm relieved that we can stop the pretense of being friends。 Obviously； whatever thin connection weˇd foolishly formed has been severed。 And high time； too。 The Games begin in two days； and trust will only be a weakness。 Whatever triggered Peetaˇs decision and I suspect it had to do with my outperforming him in training I should be nothing but grateful for it。 Maybe heˇs finally accepted the fact that the sooner we openly acknowledge that we are enemies； the better。
¨Good；〃 I say。 ¨So whatˇs the schedule？〃
¨Youˇll each have four hours with Effie for presentation and four with me for content；〃 says Haymitch。 ¨You start with Effie； Katniss。〃
I canˇt imagine what Effie will have to teach me that could take four hours； but sheˇs got me working down to the last minute。 We go to my rooms and she puts me in a full…length gown and high…heeled shoes； not the ones Iˇll he wearing for the actual interview； and instructs me on walking。 The shoes are the worst part。 Iˇve never worn high heels and canˇt get used to essentially wobbling around on the balls of my feet。 But Effie runs around in them full…time； and Iˇm determined that if she can do it； so can I。 The dress poses another problem。 It keeps tangling around my shoes so； of course； I hitch it up； and then Effie swoops down on me like a hawk； smacking my hands and yelling； ¨Not above the ankle！〃 When I finally conquer walking； thereˇs still sitting； posture apparently I have a tendency to duck my head eye contact； hand gestures； and smiling。 Smiling is mostly about smiling more。 Effie makes me say a hundred banal phrases starting with a smile； while smiling； or ending with a smile。 By lunch； the muscles in my cheeks are twitching from overuse。
¨Well； thatˇs the best I can do；〃 Effie says with a sigh。 ¨Just remember； Katniss； you want the audience to like you。〃
¨And you donˇt think they will？〃 I ask。
¨Not if you glare at them the entire time。 Why donˇt you save that for the arena？ Instead； think of yourself among friends；〃 says Effie。
¨Theyˇre betting on how long Iˇll live！〃 I burst out。 ¨Theyˇre not my friends！〃
¨Well； try and pretend！〃 snaps Effie。 Then she poses herself and beams at me。 ¨See； like this。 Iˇm smiling at you even though youˇre aggravating me。〃
¨Yes； it feels very convincing；〃 I say。 ¨Iˇm going to eat。〃 1 kick off my heels and stomp down to the dining room； hiking my skirt up to my thighs。
Peeta and Haymitch seem in pretty good moods； so Iˇm thinking the content session should be an improvement over the morning。 I couldnˇt be more wrong。 After lunch； Haymitch takes me into the sitting room； directs me to the couch； and then just frowns at me for a while。
¨What？〃 I finally ask。
¨Iˇm trying to figure out what to do with you；〃 he says。
¨How weˇre going to present you。 Are you going to be charming？ Aloof？ Fierce？ So far； youˇre shining like a star。 You volunteered to save your sister。 Cinna made you look unforgettable。 Youˇve got the top training score。 People are intrigued； but no one knows who you are。 The impression you make tomorrow will decide exactly what I can get you in terms of sponsors；〃 says Haymitch。
Having watched the tribute interviews all my life； I know thereˇs truth to what heˇs saying。 If you appeal to the crowd； either by being humorous or brutal or eccentric； you gain favor。
¨Whatˇs Peetaˇs approach？ Or am I not allowed to ask？〃 I say。
¨Likable。 He has a sort of self…deprecating humor naturally；〃 says Haymitch。 ¨Whereas when you open your mouth； you e across more as sullen and hostile。〃
¨I do not！〃 I say。
¨Please。 I donˇt know where you pulled that cheery； wavy girl on the chariot from； but I havenˇt seen her before or since；〃 says Haymitch。
¨And youˇve given me so many reasons to be cheery；〃 I counter。
¨But you donˇt have to please me。 Iˇm not going to sponsor you。 So pretend Iˇm the audience；〃 says Haymitch。 ¨Delight me。〃
¨Fine！〃 I snarl。 Haymitch takes the role of the interviewer and I try to answer his questions in a winning fashion。 But I canˇt。 Iˇm too angry with Haymitch for what he said and that I even have to answer the questions。 All I can think is how unjust the whole thing is； the Hunger Games。 Why am I hopping around like some trained dog trying to please people I hate？ The longer the interview goes on； the more my fury seems to rise to the surface； until Iˇm literally spitting out answers at him。
¨All right； enough；〃 he says。 ¨Weˇve got to find another angle。 Not only are you hostile； I donˇt know anything about you。 Iˇve asked you fifty questions and still have no sense of your life； your family； what you care about。 They want to know about you； Katniss。〃
¨But I donˇt want them to！ Theyˇre already taking my future！ They canˇt have the things that mattered to me in the past！〃 I say。
¨Then lie！ Make something up！〃 says Haymitch。
¨Iˇm not good at lying；〃 I say。
¨Well； you better learn fast。 Youˇve got about as much charm as a dead slug；〃 says Haymitch。
Ouch。 That hurts。 Even Haymitch must know heˇs been too harsh because his voice softens。 ¨Hereˇs an idea。 Try acting humble。〃
¨Humble；〃 I echo。
¨That you canˇt believe a little girl from District Twelve has done this well。 The whole thingˇs been more than you ever could have dreamed of。 Talk about Cinnaˇs clothes。 How nice the people are。 How the city amazes you。 If you wonˇt talk about yourself； at least pliment the audience。 Just keep turning it back around； all right。 Gush。〃
The next hours are agonizing。 At once； itˇs clear I cannot gush。 We try me playing cocky； but I just donˇt have the arrogance。 Apparently； Iˇm too ¨vulnerable〃 for ferocity。 Iˇm not witty。 Funny。 Sexy。 Or mysterious。
By the end of the session； I am no one at all。 Haymitch started drinking somewhere around witty； and a nasty edge has crept into his voice。 ¨I give up； sweetheart。 Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them。〃
I have dinner that night in my room； ordering an outrageous number of delicacies； eating myself sick； and then taking out my anger at Haymitch； at the Hunger Games； at every living being in the Capitol by smashing dishes around my room。 When the girl with the red hair es in to turn down my bed； her eyes widen at the mess。 ¨Just leave it！〃 I yell at her。 ¨Just leave it alone！〃
I hate her； too； with her knowing reproachful eyes that call me a coward； a monster； a puppet of the Capitol； both now and then。 For her； justice must finally be happening。 At least my death will help pay for the life of the boy in the woods。
But instead of fleeing the room； the girl closes the door behind her and goes to the bathroom。 She es back with a damp cloth and wipes my face gently then cleans the blood from a broken plate off my hands。 Why is she doing this？ Why am I letting her？
¨I should have tried to save you；〃 I whisper。
She shakes her head。 Does this mean we were right to stand by？ That she has forgiven me？
¨No； it was wrong；〃 I say。
She taps her lips with her fingers then points to my chest。 I think she means that I would just have ended up an Avox； too。 Probably would have。 An Avox or dead。
I spend the next hour helping the redheaded girl clean the room。 When all the garbage has been dropped down a disposal and the food cleaned away； she turns down my bed。 I crawl in between the sheets like a five…year…old and let her tuck me in。 Then she goes。 I want her to stay until I fall asleep。 To be there when I wake up。 I want the protection of this girl； even though she never had mine。
In the morning； itˇs not the girl but my prep team who are hanging over me。 My lessons with Effie and Haymitch are over。 This day belongs to Cinna。 Heˇs my last hope。 Maybe he can make me look so wonderful； no one will care what es out of my mouth。
The team works on me until late afternoon； turning my skin to glowing satin