Title: The Pageant of Death

Chapter: 8 of 19

Words: 4,687 of 61,217

All of the next day is spent prepping us for our interviews. Haymitch is thrilled with Gale but angry with me. I can't answer his questions and I keep freezing up at the personal ones. He's clearly on edge and is about to say something when Gale reaches out and takes my hands.

"Catnip, every time Caesar asks you a question you don't like," he pauses. I expect him to say that I should pretend I'm talking to him. Instead he says, "Picture Prim, with that damp look people get when they're starving to death but still have enough to drink. Picture Rory, trying to carry Posy, stumbling because he's just as malnourished as her but he has to carry her because now he's the oldest. Picture Posy, skin all tight and pulled back, almost smiling because she's lost so much weight that her lips have shrunk but her baby teeth are still the same. Picture Vick, sitting on that log outside my house, listless and too tired to move and someone says, 'Once you see that look in their eyes they're already gone.' He hears them but he's too close to the end to respond. All those people who love our kids and want to help, how long can they really do it? We were the main providers of meat in the Seam. So remind yourself of that and then smile. Okay?" I nod.

"Okay," he says as he lets go of my hands, "So, Katniss, is there anyone special at home?"

I giggle and give a girly answer and reach out and casually touch his arm and lean in as I speak and Gale beams at me and says, "That is how you do it."

Haymitch blinks and says, "All the incentives I've given you and all he needs to do is threaten little kids?"

"He didn't threaten them; he reminded me of the threat. It was motivating," I say.

Then Effie whisks me away and teaches me how to walk, sit and stand like what she calls, "a real girl." Gale stands in the door and laughs the whole time. If we weren't going into the arena so soon I would hit him. Now I don't want to leave any bruises or injure him in any way.

Eventually I say, "Gale, help or don't but stop laughing."

He doesn't say anything and this time it's Haymitch who is helpful. He comes to me and says, "Just imagine you're dancing with an invisible partner." He takes me by the hips and guides me as I walk. "There."

"Thank you," I say.

"I think I'm beginning to figure out how you tick," he says and keeps moving. Then he lets go. "Keep going." I do as I'm told and he nods, "Now you look like a girl from the Capitol." It doesn't sound like a compliment. He sounds almost sad, and I think he would rather that I move like myself. Then he smiles and catches my hand and pulls me into a dance. We could be at any party back home. I laugh as we move together and Effie gives an irritated sigh before leaving saying that we're all so oblivious to what the world is really like. Once she's gone Haymitch says, "You're going into the arena tomorrow. How could you possibly be oblivious?"

"There won't be much time for dancing then," says Gale.

Haymitch shakes his head, "No there won't be. You should cut in." He twirls me out and Gale grabs me. "I'm going to talk to your stylists. Don't worry," he says, "you'll pass tonight." I hope I'm good enough to pass for five minutes: one minute to walk onto the stage, three minutes of chatting, one minute to walk off again. That's all it is.

"Thank you," I say again. I kick off the uncomfortable shoes and dance barefoot with him.

Gale starts to hum an old song as we dance, keeping time. As he turns me he says, "Haymitch is wrong. You won't pass: you're going to be fantastic tonight."

"You will be too."

"We have a thirty-one," He nods to himself, "it's going to be okay."

"I have to play that down," I say.

"Just be that girl Haymitch and Effie are teaching you to be. No one will remember the eleven." He spins me out and brings me back in and we dance as he hums. It nice, a time not to be focusing on the weeks ahead. I feel wonderful in his arms, more like myself. This could be me and him messing around on a quiet morning in the woods. He spins me out again as our stylists come into the room.

"You've been dancing for almost an hour," says Haymitch. I believe him but it feels like only a few minutes.

"Is it time?" I ask Cinna.

"It is," Cinna nods.

"Please don't wax my face again," says Gale.

Portia shakes her head, "Not today." They bring us into separate rooms and I feel myself getting tense as I am primped and painted. My hair takes over an hour and I almost stop being nervous and start being bored. Then the door opens and I hear Portia say, "No, Gale, you can't go in there." But he does.

I can't turn my head but I say, "I'm mostly naked."

"I'm not looking," he says. "There's a seat next to Catnip. Please, can we do this in here?"

"Fine, sit down," says Portia.

He takes my hand. I don't think we've ever touched as much in the five years we've been friends as we have since the reaping. Cinna says, "Gale, I need Katniss' hand to do her nails." Gale says nothing but lets go. Eventually I'm allowed to sit up and I see that Gale's hair is perfect and he looks sun kissed, masculine and strong even as Portia applies eyeliner.

"What are we wearing tonight?" asks Gale.

"Fire," say Cinna and Portia at the same time.

Cinna starts to do my makeup and it's all light little things. Gale glances at my face and whines, "Portia, Catnip's wearing less makeup than me. Why am I wearing so much makeup?"

"Because you're a wonderful canvas whereas Katniss is a beautiful painting."

Everyone laughs except Gale. "That's not nice," he says.

"No, but it was funny," I say. "Are my nails dry?"

"Not enough to hold Gale's hand," says Cinna. It takes another ten minutes before we're told it's time to get dressed and we're helped out of our chairs. We turn our backs to each other as we're both half naked. Cinna helps me into a dress made of beads that look like flames when I move. Then he says, "Effie said she would teach you to walk in heels?"

"Well, Haymitch did more than Effie but they hurt."

"You need to wear them for a grand total of five minutes but I need you to try them on to make sure that they're working. You can go barefoot backstage and just slip them on when you have to go out." He kneels and helps me into high heels that don't hurt as much as the ones Effie gave me. He stands again, "Turn and try walking in them, please."

As I turn I catch sight of Gale. He's in black trousers that accentuate his muscles and a matching trimmed black shirt. Over it he is wearing a jacket that's cropped short, making his waist look thin and his shoulders wider. It's covered in red, gold and silver beads that make him look like he's engulfed in flames. He looks incredibly handsome. Portia holds out shoes to him and says, "You don't need help to put these on."

I take a step and the shoe clicks on the floor and sparks fly from beneath my feet. "Wow." I jump and the sparks go wider. "Wow."

"Those are wonderful," says Gale. "I want those shoes."

I walk more and each time the sparks surprise me. Portia says, "Try yours." Gale pulls them on and walks toward me. Fire shoots out from the soles of his shoes.

"Excellent," says Gale. "Am I going to burn the floor?"

"No, they just emulate flames," says Portia. "There's no heat. Katniss will be interviewed first."

"Caesar will ask you to twirl in that dress, do," Cinna interjects.

"How do you know that?" I ask.

"Because he asked about your dress and I said, 'It's going to look amazing when she moves.'"

"Katniss will be interviewed first," repeats Portia. "You don't get to twirl. So go out just before you're name is called, take Katniss by the hand and kiss her cheek then move around her. Here, I'll be Katniss. I've just been interviewed and I'm half way across the stage." She backs up to the wall and Cinna does the same on the opposite side of the room. "Tonight, Gale, I'll tell you when to go, but for now Cinna will be you." She begins walking, smiling and waving to an imagined crowd. Cinna comes and takes her free hand, kissing her cheek and turning his back quickly to the audience as he walks by her. "See?"

"Not really," says Gale.

"Lend me your jacket?" asks Cinna and Gale shrugs out of it. They repeat the move but with Cinna in the jacket it's so obvious. The light flashes off the beads and he looks like a blaze.

"Got it," Gale nods. But he doesn't do it as simply as Cinna. Instead after the light has caught him right, he spins me out, making the dress flair, and together we burn as we smile.

Our stylists clap. Cinna says, "You two are perfect together."

Then it's time to go. I slip off the shoes and Gale takes my hand as we head down to the auditorium. We listen to the other tributes get interviewed. They all have an angle: sexy, vicious, funny, shy. It would make me nervous if Gale and I didn't have an angle of our own. Rue is wearing wings and she looks adorable. When it's her time I say, "Go be the cutest tribute. You got us an eight now all you need to do is smile and let the wings do the work for you."

She skips, the wing move like an organic part of her, as she goes out to the couch and she waves enthusiastically. She's friendly but slightly shy. Caesar asks about her skills and she says, "I'm pretty fast, and I can climb and I'm quiet."

"But an eight for a twelve-year-old is pretty rare."

Rue shrugs, "Maybe I got a few points for being cute."

People adore her. Caesar asks, "Have you made any allies since you came?"

She nods, "Katniss and Gale. We're going to be a team. We're going to help protect each other."

She delivers the line perfectly. When the buzzer goes off she smiles and thanks him. The wings open and close as she walks off the stage, waving and smiling. As she comes backstage I smile and Gale says, "Perfect! You were perfect."

Thresh is sullen. He barely speaks and it's clearly not an angle because Chaff looks worried and agitated. When the buzzer goes off again Chaff sighs. Thresh comes backstage and shakes his head slowly at Chaff as I use Gale's shoulder to balance myself as I put my shoes on. Caesar calls my name and I walk out waving and blowing kisses. My shoes send sparks across the floor and people gasp. And, just in case Caesar doesn't prompt me, I twirl. The beads catch the light and people actually cringe away from the stage then they burst into applause. I sit down with a huge smile, "Caesar, it is so nice to meet you!"

"Katniss, you look incredible."

"Thank you, Caesar!"

"People have been calling you the girl on fire."

"Really? Cinna and Portia did a really good job for Gale and me."

He nods, "You had a hard reaping, didn't you? First your sister and then a boy you clearly have feelings for? That must have been very difficult."

"When you grow up in District 12 you know that if your younger sibling's name is in the ball at the same time as yours, then really, your name is just in there extra times. My name was in the bowl twenty times but Prim's slip of paper brought me up to twenty-one. You accept that. But I've always had a deal with my best friend: if he went into the arena I would take care of his family and if I was reaped he would take care of my mother and Prim. I think every older sibling in the districts has that pact with someone. I was shocked when Prim's name was called, horrified that she was walking up to the stage, so I screamed and volunteered before I was actually supposed to do it." People laugh like they're my friends, like I've taken them into my confidence. Like it's funny that, in the horrific moment when my younger sister was called to play in a game where she would die bloody, I forgot my manners. "But it was fine, I was going to be okay, because my best friend was going to take care of them." Caesar nods, understandingly. "Then the baker's son was being called and that's okay, I know his father but it's okay. After all, someone has to be called. And then my best friend volunteers. Gale was supposed to take care of them. For a horrible second I thought he was volunteering just to protect me. So I screamed."

"Gale is your best friend?" asks Caesar he sounds shocked and the audience has gone silent.

"Best friend in the world!" I say it with a huge smile, like an idiot, because no one smart would be pleased to go into the arena with their best friend.

"Do you live near each other?" he asks.

"We do, we both live in the Seam, which is where the coal miners live, but we weren't friends when we were little. Our fathers died in the mines. We became friends after that."

"Did they die close together?" asks Caesar sympathetically.

"In the same cave in," I nod and there's a gasp from the room. "First time I ever really noticed Gale was in the Justice Building when we got medals for being the oldest children of fallen miners." The crowd is completely silent, hanging on every word. "We do our best to help our mothers take care of the little kids and we take care of each other." I hope my inflection makes it sound like I cook and clean while he builds fires; Caesar's face says it does. "And that's what we'll do in the arena. Plus we'll team with Rue. We both have younger siblings and if we weren't able to take their place we'd hope that some older kids would help them."

"How kind of you," he says.

"You have to do your best, right?"

"True. Are you enjoying the Capitol?"

"It's amazing," I say. "You have wonderful food, beautiful buildings and such beautiful, kind, generous people here. No one wants to be reaped but it's almost worth it to see this city."

"What has been your favorite part?"

"Oh, I don't know!" I act like I'm casting around in my thoughts to answer the question. "The lamb stew is delicious."

"The one with the plums?"

"Yes."

He laughs, "I could eat buckets of it!"

Everyone laughs but then I say, "But, have you seen my clothes?" Everyone laughs again. "I love my clothes. Cinna is incredible."

"It is beautiful; would you please give us another twirl?"

"Of course." I stand and twirl and am still twirling when the buzzer goes off. I stop and almost fall but Caesar catches me and we laugh, "Thank you, Caesar."

"May the Odds be ever in your favor, Katniss."

I blow kisses, wave and smile as I begin to leave the stage. Gale comes out before Caesar calls his name. He takes my hand, just like we practiced, kisses my cheek and spins me out, turning himself and catching the light at the same time. My shoes spark and his spurt fire. There is a huge reaction from the crowd and I know the effect has worked.

Caesar laughs and says, "Gale, I hadn't called you yet."

"Sorry! Catnip needed one last twirl."

Caesar asks him to come sit down as I go backstage. Haymitch hugs me and whispers, "Perfection. So perfectly empty-headed, girly and incredibly likeable. He never even asked you about your score. You were perfect. Let's just hope it worked. You do still have an eleven. But you did everything you possibly could to erase that."

I pull back and smile, "Thank you." I use his shoulder to balance as I take off my shoes.

"Catnip?" repeats Caesar.

"She was nervous the first time we spoke and she mumbled so I thought she said Catnip and it stuck."

"She really is your best friend, isn't she?"

"Sometimes when I'm irritated about something and ranting at Peeta, he says, 'This is something you should talk to Katniss about.'" Caesar laughs. "She's my best friend. People get nervous around town if they see one of us alone. They ask, 'Is everything okay? Katniss isn't with you. Is she ill?' And I feel a little badly because people think we're courting and a lot of boys, and one Peacekeeper, have asked me if it would be okay for them to ask Catnip for a walk."

"For a walk?" asks Caesar.

"Boys ask girls for a walk when they want to court. Is that not what people do here?"

"We ask girls to go on dates. We don't court; we date."

"Well, we ask for walks. And, as I said, a lot of boys, and a Peacekeeper, have asked me if they could ask her for a walk. Of course I always say yes, but we're always together and it's embarrassing for a boy to ask a girl for a walk and be turned down in front of other people. So no one, not even the Peacekeeper, has asked her. But she's always busy; she's running around so I think people are intimidated. And... I worry that she might say no."

"You would like her to say yes?"

"I'd like her to get married. It would be nice to know she was happy and taken care of."

"I imagine that's true. And did you ask Peeta for a walk?"

Gale laughs, "No, no one ever asked for a walk. He just kissed me one night. It's much more direct." The audience laughs. "I think all boys would rather that's how it works but most girls would slap them. Catnip certainly would but I kissed back. And we have gone for walks but that's not how it started."

"A kiss seems much better. Y'know, I have friends who've tried to go 'mo, both women and men. But they always go back, men go back to dating women and the women go back to men. What's your secret?"

"My secret?"

"How do you stick to being a 'mo?" Caesar clarifies.

"Oh, I don't think there's a trick. Until this week I had never heard the word homosexual. It's not a choice or a decision. There are facts that you know, things that are just true. My name is Gale Hawthorne, my home is District 12, my eyes are grey, I have never had any interest in asking any girl for a walk and Peeta Mellark makes me happy. I've never made an effort to be myself. I didn't know it had a name; I didn't know it was fashionable; I just love Peeta."

"Good for you; how wonderful to know yourself. Now, there's a question I usually ask boys in your position but this time it seems less appropriate."

Gale nods and says, "I know the question: my name was in the ball forty-two times. But my brother Rory's name was in the ball three times and Peeta's was in there five times. So my name was really entered fifty times. The Odds were not in my favor."

"Do you think you have a better chance than he would have?"

"Well, I got a twelve," he says it so casually, like it's expected. The words are delivered perfectly, like it could only possible outcome. The confidence hits the perfect note, just like Haymitch coached him to do it this morning. "And he's very kind. I don't know if he could have made it out. I don't know if he could take a life to save his own, he's a genuinely good person. I'll be fine with my back up to the wall. I can give up my morals for a while. I'll never stop being me, I'll never be anyone but me in the arena, but I can turn off that part of my brain for a little bit... But maybe it's just selfish, I didn't want to see him in the arena.

"I couldn't bear the idea of him going cold or hungry. I love the way he laughs when he thinks something is really funny, the way he always thinks before speaking, the curve of his neck when he tilts his head to read a book, the choked little noise in the back of his throat he makes when I kiss him… I don't like seeing him anything but happy so he wasn't ever going to see the inside of the arena… And it's not true what Catnip said: it's pretty rare for older siblings to volunteer for their brothers or sisters. Peeta's brother wasn't going to volunteer and someone had to."

"But you did get a twelve. You must be very pleased. How did you manage it?"

"I don't know. I can use a slingshot so I showed that off."

"Gale, you are the only person in the Games with a twelve. It can't just be a slingshot."

"I think it might be my attitude."

"And what's your attitude?"

"I have a one in three chance of winning. It's going to be me, Rue or Catnip. There is no other option. One of us will be on this couch again."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Absolutely. One of us is coming back. And I think my certainty pushed my score. One of the tributes from 2 talked about being bloodthirsty and said it couldn't wait to get killing."

"Cato," says Caesar.

"No, it's one of the two tens from 2. I wish they had different scores but not everything goes to plan. If any of the other tributes had names or genders I would never be able to kill them. And that's the difference between me and it. It can't wait to kill people; I can't wait for one of us to get home. It's me, Rue or Catnip. It's already decided."

"And what's your plan?"

"Find water and kill everything that moves," says Gale and it's the first time his voice has lacked any note of humor or kindness. It shows the audience why he got a twelve.

Caesar misses a beat before he says, "It's a pretty basic plan."

"Yes, well, maybe, but," then he smiles like he's telling Caesar a secret, "I don't know if you've heard, but 12 is on fire." The buzzer goes off and he leans in to shake Caesar's hand. "You're just as nice as you've always seemed on TV. Keep the couch warm for me, Rue or Catnip."

"May the Odds be ever in your favor."

"I've got great odds." Gale stands and shrugs his shoulders as he waves which makes his coat flicker and flash. His shoes still make people cringe back. People roar for him as he leaves the stage.

He grabs me in a hug backstage. "Perfect," I whisper.

"You too."

He calls over my shoulder, "Rue, you were wonderful."

I turn and smile at her and she says, "Thank you. You were both wonderful too."

"Thank you," I smile.

"Dinner and bed," says Haymitch.

"They should celebrate how well they did," says Effie.

"They should sleep and survive the first day in the arena," replies Haymitch. He looks at Rue, "Dinner and bed," he repeats.

She nods, "I'll see you in the arena."

"Remember the plan?" asks Gale.

She nods as Haymitch starts to lead us away. Our stylists are waiting for us upstairs and they cheer as we enter our rooms. I hold out my shoes, "Thank you, Cinna."

"Can I keep mine?" Gale asks Portia.

"I don't think they're allowed in the arena," she says, "But, you can wear them tonight and before you go into the arena."

He smiles and makes sure he steps hard with every move he makes. "Thank you."

Upstairs Cinna peels me out of the dress and I redress in pajamas. And in the dining room we eat something Haymitch calls pasta, doughy things filled with meat in rich creamy sauce with shredded cheese piled on top. Gale and I use bread for utensils. He taps his foot as he eats, sending fake fire skittering over the floor. I feel sick but force myself to eat because this is the last chance I have to store calories. Gale looks as bad as I feel. I eat three plates full; he eats four. There's cake for dessert but I can't face it.

Gale looks to a male Avox and asks, "Is there goat milk in the city?" the man nods, "May we please have a couple of glasses of warm goat milk?" The man nods again. "Thank you."

"Raw if possible," adds Haymitch. The Avox nods and leaves.

We don't speak but Effie is babbling about something while Cinna and Portia nod like they're listening but Cinna's eyes keep coming back to me and Portia looks worried. When the Avox comes back with the milk I smile at him and say, "Thank you." Gale echoes my words and we clink our glasses before drinking.

It tastes like home, it's warm, earthy and thicker than any of the milk we've had here. Gale leans against me and I let him. After we drain our glasses Haymitch says, "Try to sleep."

"I have pills for that," says Effie.

"No," says Haymitch firmly. "No drugs before the arena. No sleep is better than drugged sleep."

"Good night," I say and push my chair back from the table.

Gale nods as he stands and says, "See you in the morning." At my door he says, "I'll see you in a minute."

I re-braid my hair and get out the cookies. There are five left. Gale knocks, "Yes," I say and as he comes in I hold out the box, "Pick."

He takes one covered in violets. "Have the last dandelion one. We'll save others for breakfast. Haymitch can have the odd one." We sit on the bed as we eat our cookies in silence. "I'm terrified," he says quietly.

"Of course you are; you're smart," I pull my knees up to my chin. "I'm homesick."

"Me too," he says.

"It's never taken more than ten weeks," I say.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," he says and I nod. We finish our cookies and climb under the blankets. We turn our backs to each other and he says, "Shut your eyes, Catnip. It's you and me in our favorite place. We cut school to get food. For once we don't need to trade anything so we just need to get dinner. We got a few chipmunks, some squirrels, strawberries and lots of different tasty plants. It's the middle of the winter and we're all bundled up: both of us in our fathers' coats and gloves made from the skins of things we killed. It's only mid afternoon but almost new years so the sun is already setting. We sit there and watch the sunset before heading home. The kids are already home and-"