The night of the interviews, Peeta shows up at my front door with a reluctant-looking Gale in tow. As always, the dark haired boy is scowling, but it doesn't seem to be any worse than usual, so I figure that he's gotten over the slap I gave him. He nods at me in greeting and even tries to smile a little bit, so I give him a small smile in return.

"Ready?" Peeta asks me.

"Is it alright if Prim comes with?" I ask, having forgotten the other night.

"She's actually already in the Square with the kids," Peeta grins. "You're not a great babysitter, are you?"

I scoff at him. "I totally knew where she was."

"You so did not," he teases, and the three of us begin the walk to the Square, which isn't very far from my house. Gale stands, still a little tense, on the other side of Peeta, so I try to include him in the conversation.

"Hi Gale," I offer. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, thanks," he says politely, and I'm very surprised. Peeta looks pleased, and I wonder if he somehow coerced Gale into being this nice to me. "Pretty proud of Rory's training score."

I grin, remembering how excited I had gotten last night when the scores were announced. Rory scored an 8, only one point under a couple of the Careers, and the highest for anyone under the age of sixteen. Madge, to my absolute shock, received an 11; she tied with the hulking guy from District 2, who has some sort of one-syllable name I can't remember. I'm proud of her, but also afraid; I know that tributes with the highest scores are usually the first to be hunted down by the Career pack. If her and Rory are going to be staying together as I suspect they will, they're definitely going to be the first team on the Careers' list.

"I was really impressed," I agree. "I wonder what he did in the demonstration."

"He probably tied a snare or something," Peeta says proudly. "Something we taught him."

"Madge probably did something with a sword," I say. They both look at me, mouths slightly open. I laugh a little bit as we arrive in the Square. "She's been fencing for years, her dad made her learn. I guess it's a big thing for Capitol rich kids."

This causes Gale to tense a little bit more, but there's also a gleam of respect in his eyes. "Well, whatever she did, it was obviously pretty impressive."

"That's Margaret for you."

"Margaret?"

I roll my eyes. "Madge's name is Margaret. She hates it though, pretty much only lets Prim get away with calling her that. Even I get smacked, but no one can deny Prim anything."

"Looks like my little brothers are learning that," Peeta laughs, pointing across the Square where Prim is sitting with Aspen and Cedar on either side of her, both rapidly speaking over one another while she giggles.

I shake my head, my braid shifting off of my shoulder. "They're screwed."

"Obviously," Peeta says wryly, and there's something strange in his eyes as he looks at me. He crinkles his nose at me after a couple of moments of staring at each other, and Gale clears his throat.

"I think it's starting," he says, pointing at the giant screen. His own siblings are joining Prim and the Mellark boys, and his little sister is being held by his mom over near the front of the crowd, where she is surrounded by a group of miners' wives.

The seal takes up the screen, and then Caesar Flickerman's face is blown up on the screen. This year, his hair and lips are an alarming shade of purple, his teeth still shockingly bright.

"Welcome!" he begins enthusiastically. "To the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

The crowd goes wild, and I let out a derisive snort. Gale looks at me, a note of surprise on his face.

"Animals," I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest. He raises his dark eyebrows.

"That's some pretty blatant hatred, Everdeen," he says approvingly, and I shrug.

"Yeah, well, they took my best friend. Fuck them."

He nods once, a small smile on his features. I know that, to some extent, I have just earned some form of respect from Gale Hawthorne.

"Let's meet our Tributes!" Caesar shouts. "As always, we'll begin with the female tribute from District 1. Put your hands together for GLIMMER!"

Glimmer takes the stage, her blonde hair in wild waves, wearing a slinky see-through number. I again find myself praying that the District 12 stylists haven't put Madge in anything similar, and after the Tribute Parade, I trust that they didn't. Glimmer obviously takes the sultry, if not somewhat ditzy, approach in her interview. Her fellow District 1 tribute, a large boy around seventeen named Marvel, goes for the usual District 1 approach as well; he remains pretty stoic, grunting out answers that have little or no real charm to them.

"They're not very memorable," Peeta observes. "Neither of them really did much of anything."

"They don't have to," Gale argues. "They're Careers."

"Sure," Peeta shrugs. "But even as a Career, you've got to set yourself apart. Especially since I have a feeling Rory and Madge's scores probably already earned them a lot of sponsor interest."

Gale looks pretty pleased with Peeta's analysis, and we turn our attention back to the screen as a small brunette, the tribute from District 2, takes the stage. She's small, but she's absolutely terrifying. She's got obvious bloodlust and her teeth practically gnash together at the prospect of getting into the Arena. Her partner, however, horrifies me even more. He's absolutely huge, his biceps the size of my thighs. He's cocky and arrogant, and obviously eager to get to the Arena as well. I feel myself subconsciously edge closer to Peeta, who stands at my right. He puts his left arm around my back, not quite at my shoulders but not quite at my waist either.

"Hey," he says gently. "Madge can outsmart that tool, easy."

I look at him and try to swallow the panicked feeling that overtakes me at the idea of Madge facing that lunatic in the Arena.

"I really hope so."

"I know so," he says, giving me a small squeeze. I feel my body grow warm at his touch and the panic slowly begins to subside as I focus on his blue eyes.

The rest of the Tributes aren't really anything to write home about, and I feel bad that I'm happy about their lack of sponsorship prospects, but that's how the Games work: if Madge and Rory are going to stand a chance, then these other kids can't stand a chance either.

Then it's District 11's turn, and I nearly tune out because I'm so anxious for Madge's face to be on the screen. But then the female tribute takes the stage and I feel my blood run cold. She looks angelic in a white dress which contrasts against her glowing dark skin. She has big brown eyes and she's so, so pretty.

For a twelve year old.

She reminds me, heartbreakingly, of my own baby sister, so much so that I turn toward Prim in a panic just to reassure myself that she's actually here and not about to take the stage in the Capitol.

Rue. The girl's name is Rue, and I can feel bile rise in my throat as she charms Caesar with her innocence. She's absolutely adorable, and apparently the oldest of five siblings. When the precious little girl is done, she skips off of the stage so lightly that she almost looks happy. Her partner replaces her, a gigantic boy of seventeen who goes with the surly, hulking approach, and it works for him. He's nearly as terrifying as the Careers. I rack my brain for his training score right as Caesar helpfully mentions it. He scored a 10, one point below Madge and only two above Rory.

Finally, it's Madge's turn, and my best friend looks so strikingly beautiful that it knocks the breath out of me. Peeta lets out a low whistle and even Gale subconsciously makes a noise of approval. She's in a red, one-shouldered dress, decorated with gems of different yellows, oranges, reds, and even a few that are slightly purple: she is, once again, the Girl on Fire. Her blonde hair is curled and pinned so that the entirety of it rests on her shoulder where there is no strap. Her lips are an orange-y red, and her eyes are outlined perfectly in black. She smiles and exchanges pleasantries with Caesar.

"You look absolutely brilliant," Caesar compliments. "Absolutely stunning."

"I can thank Cinna for that," Madge blushes sweetly. "Watch what happens when I twirl!"

She stands and spins around over and over and over, and the gems of her dress glisten in a way that makes her look truly on fire all over again. The audience goes wild and she collapses in a giggling heap back in her chair.

"Now, Miss Madge, you absolutely must have a boyfriend back at home," Caesar gushes. "You're too beautiful and charming not to!"

"Well," Madge says, biting her lip and making her huge eyes appear even more coy than they look naturally. She leans into him conspiratorially. "Can you keep a secret?"

"You know I can!" Caesar guffaws, as though they are not being televised for the entirety of Panem.

"Well, there is a boy. District 12 is kind of divided. There's the Town, and then the Seam, where all the miners and their families live. I live in Town, obviously, as my father is the mayor."

Caesar nods solemnly. "I assume that this boy of yours, he's from this 'Seam', then?" he asks, putting air-quotes around the word Seam.

"Yes, yes he is," Madge gushes, suddenly appearing very excited. People begin to look back at me, and I try to mask my confusion. Whatever it is Madge is playing at, I'm sure she has a plan. "Ordinarily, citizens don't look to fondly on interrelationships between Town people and Seam people, and that's even more the case for me, since my father is such an important part of the District." Caesar hums in agreement. "But I just couldn't help myself, Caesar. I am so crazy in love with this boy. He's two years older than me…well, not quite, but close. We've had to keep the whole thing a very big secret, you know, because the gossip would have been just terrible, not to mention what my father would think of the whole thing."

"Forbidden love," Caesar sighs dramatically. "A tale as old as time."

"Oh, isn't it, though?" Madge says breathlessly. I refuse to even look over at Gale and Peeta, transfixed by the girl on the screen, who, while maintaining certain decidedly Madge traits, is also a completely different person than the one I have known most of my life.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be very pleased if you come back," Caesar says. "And nobody can question your choices, of course, once you're a Victor!"

"He won't be, Caesar," Madge says sadly, her blue eyes rapidly filling with tears. I can tell that they're fake, I've seen Madge cry enough times to know, but I'm still impressed with her ability to cry on cue like that. Her performance, if I didn't know her as well as I do, would have even me convinced that she has a secret Seam boyfriend. "Because I don't plan on coming home. Not at all."

The entire audience gasps dramatically, going nuts at the prospect that their new darling doesn't even want to win.

"Why ever not?" Caesar barely gets out over the buzzing of the crowd. "A beautiful young woman like yourself, madly in love, what more could you want to live for?"

"Oh, Caesar, it's not that I don't want to live," Madge says sadly. This part I can see is true, the tears in her blue eyes genuine. "It's that I absolutely cannot come home and let my district partner die."

"And why is that? I know that he can't possibly be this boyfriend of yours…."

"Oh, no, no, no," Madge denies, flapping her hands around to brush off the preposterous notion. "No, it's not Rory. But you know the young man he volunteered for? Gale Hawthorne?"

"Why yes, I think I do recall."

"That's Rory's older brother," Madge begins, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And he's also the love of my life."

The entire audience goes wild at this knowledge.

"So that's why I can't go home," Madge says. "Rory, he volunteered because he knew that Gale and I couldn't kill each other, he's one of the only people who knows about our relationship. It's pretty much just him and my friend Katniss, and his best friend Peeta. Rory knew we wouldn't survive even if one of us lived. But now I can't bring myself to win, either, because I could never live with myself, knowing that I was only alive at the expense of my Gale losing someone so precious to him."

Everyone is going wild on the screen, and the buzzer sounds as she wipes the tears from her face and manages a pretty, albeit shaken, smile. My jaw is nearly at my feet and Peeta sounds like he's choking on shocked laughter. I finally drag my eyes to Gale, whose grey eyes are wide as saucers. He notices at the same time that I do that everyone in the Square is staring us down, especially his mother. His hand is shaking as he runs it through his thick hair, and Peeta leans into him.

"Gale," he murmurs. "You've got to play along. This is going to save Rory's life, I promise you. You absolutely have to play along."

Gale shoots him an exasperated look that is equal parts tired and shell-shocked.

"They're going to interview you," Peeta continues, "and you've got to pretend to be crazy in love with Madge, okay?"

"I'm a terrible liar," Gale breathes, and I lean forward, too, taking it upon myself to offer some insight. His hands are curling and uncurling into fists, and I know he's about to explode.

"Just tell stories that are true," I offer, "and maybe twist them a little? You can talk about things you really know about her, that'll make it easier."

He hesitates, his jaw tight. "I don't know much at all."

"I can help you," I say, just as Rory takes the stage. He nods sharply and quiets down, staring at his brother on the screen.

Rory is dressed in a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a tie in the same shades of Madge's dress around his neck. He sits down beside Caesar with a sheepish grin.

"Rory," Caesar starts in immediately. "You must confirm. Is this true?"

"Oh yeah," Rory confirms and he seems to be lying with relative ease. Unlike his brother, Rory is an affable kid, and he doesn't seem to mind talking, even with the cameras trained on him. "My brother, Gale, he's wild about Madge. So after she volunteered, and then his name got called…I just couldn't let him go in there. He's a lot bigger than me, and much stronger, and he'd definitely win the Games, but I knew if he won and Madge was dead…well, he'd be better off dead, too."

"But now she's planning to die in your stead."

"Yeah," Rory says with a long-suffering sigh. "We've been arguing about it since the train, of course. She says he needs me more, I say he needs her more…we'll see who wins the fight, though. She's become like a big sister to me, especially since our time here in the Capitol."

"How's that?" Caesar asks with interest.

"Oh, she's just so funny," Rory says easily. "We laugh a lot, and we play around, and she treats me like a kid a little more than I'd like, to be honest. Madge," he laughs easily toward where she's seated, "you've got to stop calling me sweetheart. It reminds me of Haymitch." He earns a huge laugh at that, and their mentor smiles wryly and maybe a little fondly, waving them both off. "But she makes sure I feel safe and comfortable and she plays around with me like my siblings do. She makes everything less lonely. I really love her." And then the audience goes mad again.

I can literally hear Gale swallow hard, and I wonder if Rory's speech is as genuine as it sounds. I assume that Gale would know, the same way I could tell what was real about Madge's speech and what was fake.

"So tell me, Rory, what did you do that impressed the Gamemakers so very much? You're one of the youngest tributes, and yet you received one of the higher scores."

"That," he grins, "is a little secret between me and my partner. She taught me one or two things in training that I think are really going to help me in the Games."

"Oh really now?" Caesar continues, his interest piqued. "How fascinating!"

"She got her 11 because I taught her a thing or two myself," Rory says in a voice that is confident and teasing without sounding braggy. "So she can thank me for that."

"You two are just precious!" Caesar gushes. "Really like siblings!"

"Yeah, we really are," Rory says solemnly. "I just really hate that we have to be in this together, but the alternative would have been so much worse."

Then the buzzer sounds and the crowd goes crazy for him, and he leaves the stage to go join Madge for the final bow of the tributes. They immediately link hands and she holds them up with a watery smile. The two bow together when it's their turn, and he whispers something to her with a sly grin. Her jaw drops and she sticks her tongue out at him, smacking his arm while he laughs at her cheekily.

Then Caesar wraps it up, eagerly announcing that the Hunger Games will begin the following day. The broadcast concludes, and I'm glad that the Capitol doesn't send cameras into each District for interviews until the top 8.

"Gale," I say cautiously, "she did what she needed to do to make them want to save Rory."

"I guess," he grunts. "I just…they couldn't have done it differently?"

"I guess not," I shrug. "If they could have, I'm sure they would have."

I don't tell him that the strategy was obviously derived from Madge's very real feelings for him. I have a feeling that he wouldn't be very receptive of the whole thing, and I really, really don't want to end up slapping him across the face like last time we got into it over Madge.

"I just…I need some space," he says, running his hand over his hair again. "Peet, can you…?"

"Yeah," Peeta assures him immediately, without Gale even having finished his sentence. "Don't worry about it, I've got it covered."

The olive skinned boy stalks off into the distance, looking like he's headed toward the meadow where Peeta took me just a few nights ago. It feels like it's been a lifetime since we sat under the stars.

"I've got to get Gale's siblings home," Peeta says wearily. "But when I'm done, do you maybe want to hang out for a bit?"

"Sure," I say, a little too quickly. "That sounds fine."

"Great," he beams. Gale's mother appears suddenly, eyeing me a little wearily before giving Peeta a quick hug.

"Hi, sweetheart," she says warmly. "I'm just grabbing the kids and then heading home. Do you want me to watch Cedar and Aspen for a bit?"

'That would be amazing," Peeta gushes, giving the woman a peck on the cheek. "Katniss, this is Hazelle, Hazelle, this is Katniss."

We shake hands, and hers is calloused in mine. She gives me a sweet smile. "Nice to meet you, Katniss. I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Oh, well…" I say awkwardly, trailing off as Peeta colors. She hustles off, calling out to her brood and ushering them out of the Square. She walks with her head high, ignoring the looks of pity that nearly everyone is giving her.

"So where to?" I ask Peeta, decidedly ignoring Hazelle's comment.

"Well, I'm pretty sure our spot is occupied by Gale," Peeta jokes easily, and there's a strange feeling that climbs up from my stomach and into my chest when he refers to the meadow as "our" spot. "But I have another idea."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "What if I had an idea?"

"Well, then, I would be intrigued."

I grin at him and start walking, and he practically has to jog to keep up with me. I turn back to him and place a finger to my lips, indicating for him to be quiet. We've reached the Justice Hall, the tallest building in Town. It's also mine and Madge's favorite spot in District 12, but not because of what's inside. Rather, Madge and I love the view from the roof, and after Peeta showed me his meadow, I figure it's my turn to show him a part of me, too.

I find the fire escape at the back of the building pretty easily, and I take a few steps back, running and jumping to grab the retractable ladder. The metal creaks noisily down and I wince; it always does this, and I'm always convinced I'm about to get caught. I never have been, though. The security at the Justice Hall is surprisingly lax, and the way that the lights in the Square reflect, nobody can really see you on the roof anyway. I turn back to him once the ladder is down, and I find him gaping at me.

"Are we about to climb the Justice Hall?" he whispers, blue eyes wide.

"Why?" I shoot back. "Scared?"

He shakes his head. "I poach on a regular basis, Everdeen. Game on."

We clamber up the ladder, me in front of him, and I swear I hear him make a strangled sound of some sort at one point. When I look back, his cheeks are vaguely pink in the dark. We finally make it to the top, and I immediately rush toward the edge that faces toward the Square.

He lets out a low whistle as he comes up behind me, his left hand warming my lower back. I look at him in shock and find that he's just looking straight forward. His natural ability to just be…affectionate, completely alarms me, and I try not to tense too much. I've spent years thinking about what it would be like to have his calloused hand touch me, and I'm not about to ruin it just because I remembered that I don't really like to be touched by anyone.

"Talk about making your problems seem small," he murmurs, referencing the last time we spent time together. I nod.

"Madge and I come up here when we need to talk or if we just want to sit in silence but not be alone, ya know?"

"I know what you mean," Peeta says. "As you can imagine, a lot of my friendship with Gale is silent."

I laugh, plopping down on the roof. I clutch my knees to my chest and he sits beside me, resting his elbows on his knees like I've seen him do a million times. The sleeves are rolled up to just under his elbows, as usual.

"How come you always roll up your shirt sleeves?" I ask, mostly out of curiosity.

"Most of my shirts were my dad's," Peeta says simply. "He was gigantic, way bigger than me. So the sleeves are way too long. Look."

He unrolls one of them, and I laugh a little bit. He was right, the sleeves hang nearly six inches off of the tips of his fingers.

"That's actually kind of adorable," I giggle. I pause abruptly. "I mean…"

"It's alright," Peeta grins as he rolls his sleeve back up. "You're allowed to find me adorable, you know, most people do."

"Oh shut up," I snap, holding my knees tighter to myself. He sighs.

"Ya know, you're a pretty closed off girl."

"I don't mean to be," I say defensively. "I just…am. By nature, I guess."

"That's fine by me," he shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "As long as you let me in eventually."

I don't say anything in return, mostly because I can't think of a proper response. He scoots a little closer to me and drapes one arm around my shoulders. I look over at him and he shrugs again.

"It's cold," he says with a cheeky smile. I roll my eyes, but the corner of my mouth curves up a little bit.

"Tell me something about you," I say suddenly.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything," I say. Everything, I think.

"Well, you know my brothers are pretty much the bulk of my life," he says, still looking out at the view. "Cedar was only a year old when my dad died, so he doesn't remember him at all. He's the joker of the family, he's always messing around and trying to prank Aspen, cause Aspen is so serious. Like, real serious. The kid is basically 40 years old. He was eight when Dad died, and he took it pretty hard. He didn't totally understand death, just understood that my Dad was gone and he wasn't coming back, and that my mom was totally different."

"How so?"

"When my dad was alive, she was happy," Peeta explains. "She used to hum and sing and she was really genuinely happy. She's from Town, originally, that's where the blonde hair comes from," he says, pulling at his curls. "But when he died, she hated that he left her in the Seam, I think. With three boys and no daughters who could marry into Town and rescue her. She's bitter, but I know she still loves him, still misses him."

"Those bruises," I say suddenly, and I want to take it back, but I've already started. "The ones on your face sometimes. That's not from the woods, is it?"

"No," he says quietly, and his gaze fixes on the roof. "She uh…sometimes she gets really angry, if Aspen won't stop crying or if Cedar gets a bad grade, or if I'm not bringing in enough coin."

I instinctively release my knees and lean into him, putting a hand on his face, halfway in his impossibly soft blonde hair.

"That's terrible," I whisper. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," he says in his usual way, and he smiles, but it's empty. I hate it.

"Don't make it seem okay," I say. "You don't always have to, you know? You don't have to smile all the time."

His blue eyes darken and the smile falls off of his face, but he doesn't look sad, or angry. I can't place the expression on his face, but his eyes drift toward my lips and he begins to lean in. Something orange bursts behind him, on the side of the Justice Hall that faces the Seam. My eyes grow wide and he shuts his, wincing.

"I'm sorry," he begins, his voice practically a groan.

"No, no," I say, brushing off his apologies for what I think was an almost-kiss. "Fire!"

His eyes grow wild as he looks behind him. A fire has caught in the Seam, and he's on his feet in an instant, dashing down the ladder and clambering down it. I follow him, but I'm not nearly as fast as he runs. He skids to a stop in front of the fire, looking around at all of the people gathered in the street.

"Thom!" Peeta exclaims, sounding relieved. A boy about our age, maybe Gale's, has his arm around an older woman, who holds the hand of a young girl around Prim's age. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," the boys says shakily. "We're all out."

"Alright," Peeta says, his voice taking on a business-like tone. "You guys," he says loudly, pointing at one group of people, "grab your wash-basins. You," he says to another group, "go wait by the well. Start filling as they're brought to you. And we," he says, gesturing at himself and the last group, "will take them from the middle men (he indicates the first group), and throw it on the fire. Let's move, people!"

And shockingly, everyone jumps to action. Gale appears as if from nowhere, his olive skin gleaming with sweat. A few moments later, someone roughly shoves a heavy wash basin full of water into my hands and I immediately turn and throw it onto the fire. Peeta, Gale, Thom, a few others, and I throw and throw and throw, eventually putting the fire out. The building is blackened, but parts of it are still standing, and most of the furniture looks like it can actually be saved. Peeta arrived in time and moved everyone so efficiently that it looks as though Thom and his family didn't lose too much.

"Not bad, Townie," Gale commends, and I see that there is no malice in his eyes. "Nice work."

"Thanks," I blush, wiping the sweat from my face. "I should probably head back, my parents are probably worried."

"Let me walk you," Peeta pants out. "It's pretty dark and I don't want you to get lost."

He reaches a soot-covered hand out to me and I take it, ignoring Gale's wolf whistle as we walk toward Town.

"Thank you for helping."

"What else was I supposed to do?" I shrug.

"I know, I know, but thank you anyway."

"Don't mention it."

We walk in silence until we reach my front steps.

"Listen, about the roof," Peeta begins, and I turn to look at him. He suddenly stops in his tracks, shakes his head a little bit, and then says, "ya know what, screw it."

He presses his lips to mine quickly, and he tastes like smoke and sweat, but it sends a rush straight to my head as we part nearly as quickly as he kissed me.

He smiles, looking quite pleased with himself. "Always told myself he would do that."

I'm practically just gaping at him, but he wipes a bit of soot from my face and grins at me.

"Goodnight, Katniss."

And then he's walking back toward the Seam, hands shoved in the back pockets of his dirty jeans. I watch him walk away and then dash upstairs to wake up Prim. I tell her everything that happened and she giggles at all the right places, but it all just makes me miss Madge.

And then I remember that the Games start tomorrow, and the giddiness that set in since Peeta kissed me dissipates rapidly. I hardly sleep, tossing and turning, afraid to close my eyes because whenever I do, I see Madge cut down in the bloodbath.

It's dawn before I know it, and I peel myself out of bed grudgingly, determined to bake at least a few things before it's time for the mandatory viewing.