Over the next few weeks I continue to spend time with Peeta. We agree that although we are victors, our families are just as likely as anyone else to enter the arena. He has both his mother and father to worry about as well as an older brother, while fortunately, I only have my mother. Peeta and I continue to work on the plant book and avoid the subject of this year's Games as much as possible. One day though, we realize it's approaching quickly and the subject is mentioned.
"Katniss," says Peeta as his hand moves across one of the pages.
"Yes?" I say softly.
"We're going to get through this," he says. I look up to his face and his eyes connect with mine.
"Of course we are," I say, "but twenty three people won't."
"I wonder what it will be like, to watch adults rather than kids," he says as he turns back to the current drawing. "Just the same, they will still be people, and they will still be at the mercy of the Capitol."
"Peeta," I say, "please, let's not talk about this. I hate imagining the possibilities." He nods in agreement and continues to work in silence. I watch his hands move as I always do, but my mind is beginning to crawl with worry. The reaping is two weeks away and I haven't seen Gale since before the Quarter Quell announcement. He spends every day down in the mines, working because he must. Even with Hazelle cleaning for Haymitch, and Gale working in the mines, they find it difficult to support their family of five. I've offered some of my winnings to them, but Gale refuses. "That's your money," he says, "you keep it."
"I need to see him," I accidently say aloud at present.
"Who?" Peeta says looking up. I think, who else would I need to see at the moment?
"Haymitch," I say.
"And why do you need to see him?"
"Well, I meant to ask him a little while ago, but I think we should ask him a bit more about mentoring," I lie quickly. Talking more about the Games is the last thing I want to do, but I don't want to admit that I was actually thinking about Gale, so I put on a brave face when Peeta consents to go with me.
We cross over to Haymitch's place and let ourselves in. We're accustomed to doing that by now. With all the times that he's either sleeping or passed out, we've had to give up on our manners, something Effie Trinket would frown at. I follow Peeta down the hallway into the kitchen where we find Haymitch with his head resting on the kitchen table, a bottle of white liquor in one hand, a knife in the other.
"Haymitch," says Peeta tentatively. "Haymitch, we need to talk to you." No response. I go over to the sink to fill a bucket with water.
"Haymitch," I hear Peeta say, "Katniss is going to pour water on your head if you don't come around." I hear a quiet murmur followed by a louder groan.
"Don't," he manages to croak out. I turn around to see him lifting his head off the table slightly. His eyes flicker open and closed again. "What do you want with me now?" I exchange a look with Peeta and, as usual, he speaks for both of us.
"We want to talk to you about mentoring," he says, "we know it's going to be difficult, so we want to be as helpful as possible for the Games that are coming up." I can tell by the way Haymitch's face contorts that he wants to talk about this just as much as I do. After some prodding, however, he agrees that it's a good idea. I heat up some bread and tea for him and we begin our discussion.
We go through how to most effectively help two tributes between the three of us. We decide that most likely Peeta and I will each take on a tribute and Haymitch will circulate between us guiding both of us through the process. Despite the knot in my stomach I remain focused as we discuss the many possibilities of tributes. There are young men and women barely past the normal reaping age, old men and women in poor health, and middle aged men and women with children. No matter how we view it, our prospects don't look good. Peeta and Haymitch agree that it would be best to have someone in the younger age range, because they'll most likely be in the best health, with the most resourcefulness and the least to lose at home. I don't mention Gale; they don't either.
Haymitch runs us through the process of acquiring sponsors, but since we don't know our tributes yet we can't possibly know what angle we'll be working off of. Will we be promoting the strength of a young man, or the wisdom of an old woman? Whatever the circumstances, it is our job as mentors to promote our tributes in the best way possible, to help them as much as we can. I finally feel the full weight of our job upon my shoulders. In just two weeks I, along with Peeta and Haymitch, will be responsible for two lives, and we will only be able to save one.
Thanks for reading, kinda short, but the next chapter is almost done, so it might be up before a full week goes by. Please review because feedback is super duper helpful!
