Katniss sank down low in the backseat of the car, making sure neither boy could see the mortified look on her face in any of Finnick's mirrors. Without checking, she knew hew cheeks were bright red and the last thing she wanted was for one of them to ask her what was wrong. Hiding emotions wasn't one of her strengths.

Finnick's words were harmless, really. Every day he came in to the gym with a new pick-up line to whisper in her ear and every day he acted hurt when she shot him down; his suggestive words were just another part of the easy banter they shared with each other. He loved riling her up more than he loved flirting with the young moms that brought their daughters to practice at the academy, and he was getting really good at it. The more he learned about her, the more he incorporated into their little game, like that time he'd found out her favorite strength-building exercise was climbing the ropes and he'd asked if she was interested in knots and ropes. This time, thought, she'd handed him an opportunity to unsettle her without knowing it; Peeta was a variable she hadn't accounted for.

"So, Katniss," Finnick hummed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, "where to?"

"I don't know. Haymitch doesn't exactly take us out for family dinners…everyone just kind of fends for themselves."

"So you've been eating granola bars and fruit strips this whole time? A growing girl like you needs better options." He reached back to poke her in the knee. "There's a Chik-fil-A, a Wendy's, like, eight thousand different barbecue restaurants —"

"We had barbecue last night, Finnick!" Peeta pointed out.

"— and there's always this really gross bakery Peeta tries to make me eat at —"

He cried out, shoving Finnick's shoulder. "He's talking about my family's bakery," he explained, shifting around in his seat. "We go all the time. He loves it there. He's just mad because Coach told him to cut back on the sweets."

Finnick protested, but Katniss ignored him, shifting up in her seat. "Your family owns a bakery? That's, um, —"

"Surprising for a hockey player?" Finnick interrupted. "Kind of like how it's surprising that you're not wearing a bunch of glittery spandex and doing somersaults right now?"

Finnick raised his eyebrows at her in the mirror, waiting for her to take the bait. She turned to Peeta instead. "Will you decide where we're eating, please?"

He ended up choosing a burger joint with more menu items than she had ever seen at a fast-food restaurant. Rather than pulling into a parking spot, though, Finnick drove around to the drive-through window. At first she was disappointed, but then she remembered Peeta's leg. Finnick caught her eye just then, as if he knew what she was thinking, and verified her suspicions with a nod. Katniss wondered then whether this trip was for him just as much as it was for her.

It didn't take long for them to order and find an empty parking spot to dine in. Peeta and Finnick's car doors were wide open, and both boys had covered the dashboard with their food. Katniss found herself lounging comfortably against the back seat, her feet stretched out the window and her hands full of food. The sun was red behind her eyelids when she sighed and for a long moment, she thought she heard the crickets in the forest back home again. Finnick's car was quickly taking over the old gym's place in her heart.

"So Texas ice hockey," Katniss prompted, sucking the last crumbs of her sandwich from her fingers. "What's that like?"

Finnick was working on a large bite of his own burger, so Peeta answered first. "We're one of thirteen D2 conferences, and one of six teams in the conference. That means we're all right."

"He's being humble," Finnick insisted through a mouthful of food, "we'll be starting ranked tenth this season."

Katniss looked to Peeta for confirmation. He shrugged lightly and picked a french fry off of Finnick's plate.

"Tenth of how many? That sounds pretty good to me."

"Yeah, well once Peeta's ankle heals we'll be in the single digits, which will sound even better."

"Assuming I can still play like I used to," Peeta argued. "If it gets better in time, we might have a good shot."

Finnick tried to argue, insisting that he was the star player on the team and that he'd be back to his old self before long. To hear Finnick tell it, Peeta was a fan favorite before his injury, which had happened during an early practice. Apparently, rather than being known for his scoring, he was one of their best defensemen, one who ran in to take a hit in order to preserve his teammate. Neither of them seemed willing to go into a lot of detail about his accident, and Katniss didn't ask. Peeta was obviously an athlete who loved his sport, who hated that he couldn't support his team when they needed him, whereas she had quit gymnastics at the height of her career and ruined the dreams of almost all of her teammates in the process. He was dying to be there for his team and she hadn't even said goodbye to hers.

His face would probably look a lot like theirs had if he ever found out.

The loud crinkling of Finnick's trash startled her back into focus. "Whatever," Finnick complained as he got up to throw out the trash, snatching Peeta's from under his chin. "She can see I'm right when she comes to our games."

Peeta looked at Katniss with wide blue eyes. "You would do that? Come watch us play?" He beamed at her so brightly that Katniss found it impossible to let him down.

"Sure."

His smile grew, and the sight of it caught her breath. There was something in the small dimples that appeared on his cheeks and the curve of his lips that warmed her, somehow. One corner of his mouth pulled a little higher than the other when he smiled, drawing her attention to a small sunken scar on his cheek. But it wasn't just that he was the first person who had genuinely smiled at her like that, it was something completely unique to Peeta himself. Looking at him was like looking at the sun, the sun that turned leaves to gold in the woods back home. His eyes flitted to each of hers for a moment before he turned around in his seat, just in time for Finnick to return to the car.

"Time to return the prisoner," Finnick sang, buckling his seat belt with one hand and turning onto the highway with the other. "How much time do you think you'll do for escaping?"

"Whatever Haymitch does, it was still worth it…which reminds me, how much do I owe you?" She reached into her pocket for her crumpled wad of cash and nudged Finnick's shoulder with her fist.

"You're not paying me for lunch, Katniss."

"Like hell I'm not," she argued. "How much do I owe you?"

"I'm not taking your money!"

Katniss huffed, letting her hand drop into her lap. "I'm buying next time, then."

"So there's a 'next time' now?" Peeta asked. Katniss could hear the smile in his voice, even though he hadn't turned around. "I thought he said you weren't a people person."

"I also said she was nice once you got to know her, asshole. He never listens."

Less than five minutes of awkward silence later, she was getting dropped back at AGA. The sun was doing its best to blind her, reflecting brightly off the windows of the gym as Finnick pulled up to the front door to let her out. Break time was over, and she was still wearing shoes. Katniss trudged over to the dormitory, tossed her shoes into the corner of her bag and went to the bathroom before heading down to the gym. She'd been expecting to find an angry Haymitch waiting for her when she arrived, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, the minute she entered the gym she was flocked by three of her teammates, demanding to know where she'd been.

"Wait, wait — you went out to lunch with two boys? And Finnick Odair was one of them?" The tall blonde named Madge asked in a dramatic whisper, even though it was still early in the afternoon.

"How did you meet him, Katniss? He talks to you all the time, I see him looking for you sometimes when you run in the afternoons and he comes to get his friend —"

"Can anybody explain to me why we're standing around instead of practicing our floor routine?" Johanna interrupted, elbowing her way into the half-circle that had formed around Katniss.

"Katniss went out to lunch with Finnick and his friend today," one of the shorter girls replied, looking over at her with a small grin. She seemed impressed, almost approving of Katniss' behavior. It was the first time her teammates had offered her anything in the way of friendship, and she had no idea what to do with it.

"We're friends," she stammered, shrugging her shoulders at Johanna. "It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, well you know what is a big deal? Invitationals is only weeks away and we're here standing around instead of running through our drills and routines! Haymitch might not be here right now, but that doesn't mean we can all run off and go crazy. Some of us have a lot riding on this meet." Johanna sauntered away, leaving a chill in the air that sent the rest of Katniss' teammates away with guilty looks on their faces, especially Madge. Katniss tossed her braid and turned to face her equipment with the same amount of enthusiasm.

The old floor yawned before her, its tape curling at the edges and carpet fraying in all but one corner. Little beams of late afternoon sun were stretching across the gym and lighting patches of the floor as she danced around it, twisting her arms and tossing her body into the air. It was a constant cycle for her — double backs, whip back layouts, arabian double fronts and more handsprings than she cared to count. Her feet were matches striking flint, her hands springs as they slammed into the ground.

Even after nearly two weeks of training, this was still her worst exercise. The more her mind focused on the task at hand, the more her body rebelled. She'd taken to waking up before dawn to run, only breaking for lunch when Finnick and Peeta showed up in the gym, bags of food in hand. It took a while for her to realize they were coming in to watch her progress. A small, rational voice in her head kept telling her that they didn't know or care about how well she was doing compared to her teammates, that they were genuinely interested in learning more about what she did with her time, but it was silenced by a much louder voice, the same voice that was stopping her from joining her teammates on the other side of the gym. It was bad enough having Haymitch watch her.

Of course, that didn't stop him from checking up on her anyway. She started watching him, too, learning his schedule so he couldn't sneak up on her during a routine. A quick glance across the mats as she chalked her hands, a peek at the windows in his office upstairs as she rolled out her ankled and attached her wrist guards to her hands. Katniss wondered whether he was doing it purposely, whether he knew she preferred solitude and was trying to rob her of the small, illusory comfort zone she'd created here.

But apparently he had bigger things on his agenda today, because she found him in front of the lobby doors, arms crossed and eyes shining with importance. His feet were bare today, and his track suit was as clean as ever. He caught her eye and beckoned her over with two fingers before addressing the room.

"After a very careful, thorough review of your skills and improvement in training," he began, running his eyes over every gymnast in the room, watching them gather close in anticipation, "I've determined who'll be competing at invitationals. Girls, please congratulate Madge, Nina, Johanna and…Kirsten."

"What?"

Katniss felt her wrist grips slip out of her hands and fall against her toes. Her blue shorts and her dirty shirt, tied up above her waist with a spare piece of pre-wrap, suddenly felt out of place in the midst of so many clean, form-fitting spandex uniforms. She hadn't meant to cry out and draw attention to herself. Now the other gymnasts had stopped their celebrations to stare at her in disbelief.

"Did you have something to say, sweetheart?"

Katniss knew it was a warning for her to be quiet, but she couldn't stop the words falling out of her mouth. The entire team was staring at her, watching her unravel. "Yeah. You made me a deal. You said I'd compete in the invitational if I stayed and trained."

"You aren't ready to compete," Haymitch replied evenly. "These girls have been here longer, spent more time training their routines than you have —"

"Why the hell should they just get to go?" She demanded. "I'm the first one in here in the morning and I'm definitely last one to leave! What do they have that I don't?"

"Mental stability?" Johanna sneered.

"Take it easy, Johanna. Katniss may be on to something…how would you girls feel about an in-house competition to see who goes to the meet?"

"Are you kidding me, Haymitch? You're going to listen to her? She just wants another chance to screw us over before she leaves again! Do you know how hard we've been working for this?"

Johanna turned to her teammates, expecting loud cries of agreement and disgust to fill the air between her and their coach. She drummed her fingers against her arms, waiting for someone to speak.

"I want to do it."

Katniss had to turn to get a good look at the slender girl who had come to her defense. Rue. She looked like she was at least half a foot shorter than Katniss was, and she wore her short hair free of any harsh clips or hairbands. Her dark skin glowed in the company of the red of her leotard, especially when compared to the other girls, whose pale skin tones were even more washed out against the fabric.

Rue peered at her across the circle as she spoke up again. "I think we should compete for our spots." She offered Katniss a small smile as she said it, and this time, Katniss couldn't help but grin in reply. It seemed like she wasn't the only one who enjoyed seeing Johanna lose.

"Does anyone else agree?" Johanna let out a groan as several girls, including Madge, enthusiastically nodded. Some even thought it would be good practice before the actual competition. "It's settled, then, on one condition…Miss Everdeen needs a leotard."

Katniss caught the twinkle in Haymitch's eye as she bolted out of the gym to retrieve the leotard she'd buried somewhere in her luggage. Outside, the pavement burnt her feet and her shirt stuck to her back, but she couldn't bring herself to slow down. Her heart felt wild and irregular, and her hands were tingling.

Putting on the actual garment took her a little longer than she expected. She took a moment to calm herself down and look in the mirror, frowning at the bright pink flame that rode up the left side of her hip and around to her ribcage. The long sleeves were too hot, she knew, but somehow she still felt vulnerable. The tight leotard offered her no place to hide.

She started looking at the small details of herself instead — the hard lines of her shoulders, the slope of her neck where it met the shiny black fabric, even the curve where the leotard slid down to kiss her back, just above the freckle on her spine. Her skin was growing darker from her morning runs, and the scars on her hands and shoulders were starting to stand out in pale relief. She traced them and turned her neck, eyes following the thin white lines to the place where they disappeared into her hairline.

Leaning in close granted her a new landscape to examine. She was wasting time, she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself from clasping the sink and moving forward. This way, she couldn't see the stupid pink flame on her leotard or the faded scars on her collarbone. Is this how she looked in the mirror at home? Her sweaty hands left the cool porcelain, and then she was pushing the sleeves of her leotard up, running down the stairs.

Katniss had to stifle a laugh when she returned to the gym — Haymitch had brought in Effie as a second line judge. She had apparently refused to remove her shoes, so Haymitch made her stand toward the edge of the wall and take notes. Her bright yellow attire clashed with the walls, and it looked like she was having trouble holding the pen with her long nails. Katniss bit her cheek to keep from smiling and watched as the ceremonies began. It was the first time she had actually seen her teammates perform, and if she was being honest with herself, they were pretty intimidating. Johanna threw her hardest tricks on every exercise, messing up on all but one of her routines, but everyone else seemed to actually enjoy the event. Katniss marveled at Rue in particular, whose short frame reminded her of a bird. She fluttered up onto the bars and weaved between them in graceful flips, landing on the ground with a graceful little twist.

Johanna stepped up to the bar next and spent a ridiculous amount of time making sure the low bar had enough chalk on it. Her routine felt choppier, less focused on revolutions and gliding movements than her teammates before her. She jumped back and forth between the bars as if she couldn't decide which one felt more comfortable, finally dismounting with a layout after she ran out of skills.

Katniss was surprised as she watched the remainder of her team perform. Their lines were clean, bodies contorting and bending and hinging right on cue, but there was no spark. She didn't see anything memorable, anything that made her feel anything. The routines were safe, robotic even. Unlike Rue, who had returned to her spot on the sidelines with a bashful sort of hope written all over her face, or Johanna, who slinked off the mat with self-righteous conceit, the other girls walked away from the bars with no emotion on their faces. Every other apparatus was the same — Rue, the little bird who flitted across the gym, Madge and her long legs that wrote cursive on the floor, Johanna with her startling confidence.

Katniss had no idea what kind of impression she made in comparison, but she knew she didn't look as measured and practiced as the other girls, especially on the floor. Where their limbs swirled and wove, hers seemed to knot and stumble. No other girl looked like she was wrestling with a voice in their head, a familiar whisper telling her to stop trying before she embarrassed herself. She fought to keep her focus.

After an hour or so, it was over. Haymitch made them line up in the center of the floor as Effie totaled points and discussed the winning performances with him in a sharp whisper. She handed him the clipboard with a sly grin and went back to her desk, and suddenly Katniss could feel the silence in the room pressing into her ears.

"Interesting day today," he mused, strolling around them with exaggerated patience. "Lots of effort, lots of drive. We've made a few changes to our invitational roster."

Johanna threw him a deathly glare and switched her weight to her left leg, thrusting her hip out impatiently. "Go on and spit it out. Catpiss is obviously going."

To her horror, and Katniss' immense pleasure, Haymitch let out a sharp laugh. "Katniss is going. So are Rue, Madge and Nina. Johanna, you'll be team alternate."

Katniss walked away to avoid the fallout. Johanna was near tears, complaining about professional scouts and the sun in her eyes, and the other girls were celebrating as quietly as they could to keep her from rounding on them. She felt a surprised sort of gratification wash over her skin — Haymitch had kept his deal after all. She hadn't been expecting it, especially since he didn't stand to gain from having her on the team. Agreement or no, he had no real reason to hold up to his end of the bargain. She caught his eye as she reattached her grips and she knew he was reading her thoughts perfectly. He nodded almost imperceptibly before turning his gaze away, his message clear — don't screw this up.

His confidence in her was unwavering, but there was no breaking her mood. She felt embers of coal burning in her stomach; the only thing standing between her and the restitution money she needed to go home was herself. The weight of that revelation fell comfortably on her shoulders as she pulled herself up on the beam and began to stretch out her arms. She could see the rest of the girls had gone back to work, too, and their excitement was easy to spot. Madge and Rue were taking turns on the floor, giving each other high-fives as they stuck difficult landings and finished routines with clean dismounts and straight arms. They had clearly been friends for a long time, there was no mistaking the way they anticipated each other's thoughts and reacted accordingly. It was impossible for Katniss to see their happiness and not be affected by it — a small smile grew on her face as she watched them practice. She didn't see Nina slip until she heard the crash.

Katniss jumped down and ducked under the beam as several other girls flocked to Nina, who was on the floor and clutching her shin. Her mouth was contorted in a sharp grimace, her forehead red and her eyebrows knotted together in pain. Nothing looked broken, and there was no blood on the balance beam, but she was obviously hurt. Haymitch rushed over, his track pants swishing loudly as he knelt down and examined her leg. He pushed at the knees of the girls around him, making room for Nina to try and sit up.

She heard him muttering short, focused questions to her, rolling her ankle delicately as he assessed her injury. If the sharp hiss of breath from Nina's mouth was any indication, she was done with practice for the day. Someone from the therapy jogged up to them with a pair of crutches in hand, and together with Haymitch they hoisted her from the ground and helped her across the floor and out into the lobby. Small, angry tears fell from Nina's cheeks onto the ground, and Katniss stared at them as she left the gym.

"Johanna?"

"Yes, Haymitch? Did you need me?" She didn't even have the decency to sound hopeful, as if there was a chance she wouldn't be competing even with Nina gone. Katniss wrinkled her nose and mounted the beam again, trying not to let what had just happened affect her. She'd made it this far without injury somehow, and she was planning to keep it that way. As reluctant as she was to admit it, she felt comfortable on her equipment now. Knowing she was the only one touching her bars and beam made it easier to believe she would never fall the way Nina did. Every step she took on the floor, every skill she completed on the bar, every run down the vault track was now permanently etched into her muscles, her blood and sweat ingrained like a memory onto the fabric and wood beneath her.

Katniss had days to go before she would face people who burned at the sight of her, people who she never wanted to see again. Good, she thought to herself, pulling her chin up and pointing her toes against the leathered beam. She wasn't looking forward to the audience, but she certainly loved a challenge when she saw one.