How could I be so cruel? I forgot to respond to my reviewers:( Thanks to Reese1603 (thanks for the tip, btw. You were right) and Val.
Pathetically, Haymitch tries to get up from his own mess but fails. The smell is horrendous, and I wonder how he could drink something that can burn my nose from across the room. Katniss and I exchange a glance. Even if we don't want to believe it, Haymitch is our only chance for survival. We help him up by grabbing his arms.
"I tripped?" Haymitch asks. "Smells bad."
"Let's get you back to your room," I tell him, trying to hold down massive dinner when I see him wipe his hand on his face, covering it with vomit.
We make it back to his room and set him in the tub to let the water from the shower run over him. I want to get as much puke off him as possible before I go near him again. But Katniss seems to be doing even worse than me. She keeps turning her head to her shoulder, and I can tell she's doing her best to keep her plugging her nose a secret. But I still notice.
"It's okay. I'll take it from here," I tell her.
"All right," she says. "I can send one of the Capitol people to help you."
"No," I say quickly. "I don't want them."
I don't want anything to do with the people who want to watch me fight to the death. As much as I would like some help, Katniss shouldn't have to deal with this; she seems much more squeamish than me.
I sigh as I look down at Haymitch's disoriented form. I unbutton his shirt, throw it behind me, and then I pour body wash on him. I turn the shower on a jet setting and it foams the body wash. I set it back to normal and it rinses the bubbles away from him, allowing me to not have to touch any vomit.
Jeez, I don't want to do this…
I pull of his pants but decide only to go that far – I don't want to know my mentor that well – and throw them in the pile with the shirt. I turn off the water and find a robe.
"Here, Haymitch," I say.
He opens his eyes again and stares at me holding the robe like he doesn't know what to do with it.
"Well, are you planning on wearing it?" I ask him.
I pull him up as he makes a small "hmph" noise and he puts the robe on. I lead him back to his bed, where he ungracefully plops down and resumes sleeping.
I run back to my room, wanting to take a shower myself. I look outside and then notice the lights in the distance. How far had we traveled in just a few hours? We couldn't be any farther than District 10, could we?
I quickly take a shower and then find comfy pajamas, softer than anything I've ever owned. When I settle into bed and my head hits the pillows, I fall asleep almost immediately.
I wake up to the sound of an annoying Capitol voice. Effie. "Wake up, Peeta! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"
I roll over and squeeze the pillow around my ears like Eli does every morning, hoping to drown the sound out. Waking up to her voice reminds me before I even open my eyes that I'm not home. I grit my teeth and push any thoughts of home aside. I already cried, already got it over with. I'm not going back and crying won't help.
I change into nearly the same clothes as yesterday and splash my face with cold water. Today will be a big day like Effie said - we should be arriving in the Capitol soon.
I make my way to the compartment where we ate dinner last night and find an abundant amount of rolls and fruit on the table and Haymitch talking to Effie.
"Look who finally decided to wake up," Haymitch says.
I shrug as I sit down and a steaming mug is placed in front of me. The two stare at me as I push the cup to the side and pay attention to the fruit.
"You don't want it?" Effie asks.
"I don't like coffee," I answer truthfully.
"That's good 'cause it's not coffee," Haymitch tells me. "It's called hot chocolate. Capitol kids love it."
I pull the mug towards me and take a deep breath in. It smells chocolaty, that's for sure. I take a small, cautious sip and then I'm surprised by how good it tastes. I take another sip as Haymitch opens his mouth to say something.
"So you going to help me on all the nights I pass out?" he asks.
I choke on my hot chocolate and I'm forced to cough. I'm not going to be his personal clean-up crew. Haymitch guffaws and Effie pushes her coffee away, seeming to have lost her appetite.
Haymitch wraps his arms around her shoulders and says to her, "Hey, I'm just messing with him!"
She does not think this is funny because she holds his thumb between her pointer finger and thumb and then throws his arm off her. She smoothens her pink hair and briskly gets up, coffee in hand.
Haymitch continues to laugh quietly and I pick up a roll and twist it around in my hands. Just thinking about last night makes my stomach a little queasy. I look up when Effie leaves the room, brushing by Katniss on her way out.
Haymitch waves Katniss over to sit down with us. "Sit down! Sit down!"
People come by and put in front of us a massive plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and ham. Again, one meal has the equivalent of one or two months of meat for me. I see Katniss eyeing the cup of hot chocolate.
"They call it hot chocolate. It's good," I tell her.
We continue eating, taking fruit off the tray in the middle and going back to the bread basket over and over again. Katniss finishes and sits back in her seat, but I keep eating. The rolls taste amazing when they're dipped in hot chocolate.
"So, you're supposed to give us advice," Katniss says to Haymitch.
"Here's some advice. Stay alive," Haymitch says, and then he starts laughing uncontrollably.
How could he be joking? Two lives depend on him and he's joking? By looking at him, I realize we just might be doomed; he's been pouring liquor into his juice all through breakfast. No wonder District 12 hasn't had a victor since him – the past tributes have had a drunkard as a mentor who doesn't give a crap.
"That's very funny," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hating the fact that he would rather get drunk than help us, I knock the glass out of his hands and it falls to the floor, shattering into minuscule pieces.
Before I have time to take back what I've done and apologize, I'm sent to the floor. Did he really just punch me? I hear a thump on the table and all the dishes clink.
"Well what's this?" Haymitch asks as I push myself up. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"
I slide my jaw side to side and wince as it cracks the way knuckles do. I reach for the ice under the fruit tureen, but Haymitch stops me before I can get it on my jaw.
"No. Let the bruise show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another tribute before you've even made it into the arena," Haymitch tells me.
"That's against the rules," I say, putting the ice back.
"Only if they catch you. The bruise will say you fought, you weren't caught, even better." Then he turns to Katniss. "Can you hit anything with that knife besides the table?"
She pulls the knife from the table and throws it at the wall, lodging it in between two panels. Yep, I'll be dead the first minute she sees me in the arena. But judging by the look on her face, she seems surprised that it stuck.
"Stand over there. Both of you," Haymitch orders and he nods to the middle of the room. He circles us like prey, poking and examining us. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get a hold of you, you'll be attractive enough."
Katniss and I exchange a glance. He somewhat insulted us, but gave us a little flash of hope.
"All right," Haymitch begins. "I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly as I say."
Not exactly the best deal, but it's better than nothing.
"Fine," I say.
"So help us," Katniss says to Haymitch. "When we get to the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone-"
"One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do. But no matter what it is, don't resist."
"But-" Katniss starts.
"No buts. Don't resist."
With one last glare to make sure we follow directions, he leaves the room with a bottle of spirits. Katniss and I stand in the same spot, keeping silent. We must be going through a tunnel because it's pitch black, but a few lights are still on.
After being in the tunnel for what seems like forever, the train slows and it's starting to get light again outside. Knowing what lies outside those windows, we both dart up to them and look out.
There it is: the Capitol and all its glory. It seemed magnificent on TV, but it's nowhere near the same as seeing it in person. Buildings go higher than birds can fly. Streets are paved and kept clean to snooty Capitol standards. And the people. It's like a million Effies walking around.
I see the crowd of people pointing, jumping, even screaming for us. So many opportunities for sponsors. So I put on my best smile and wave to them. Even this simple gesture sends them into mayhem.
I look over once we can no longer see them and notice Katniss staring at me, probably wondering why I'm even allowing them eye contact from me. "Who knows?" I say. "One of them may be rich."
She has a thoughtful look on her face, but I have no idea what's going on in that head of hers.
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