"I'm sorry, what?"
The only thing I can process is complete disbelief. Then amusement. An incredulous laugh forces its way out of my mouth.
"You're saying," I begin, between chuckles, "that the whole country has started uprising because we ran away? I'm sorry, that's completely ridiculous." I stand up and gesture to the others. "That's it, we're done here."
"Miss Everdeen, please wait," says the woman at the other end of the table. President Coin, she introduced herself. She leans forward, her eyes staring unblinkingly into mine. I find myself staring back. To look away is to admit inferiority, and I will not grant her the satisfaction. "I assure you, everything we have said to you today is completely true. And that's why you're still here."
As we had stood over the ruins of District 13, I just felt… numb. This was the one thing I had been counting on, that the Capitol had lied during the Dark Days and District 13 still existed, out in the wilderness, alone. Untouched by the Games. And when I saw the burned remains, everything I had still held onto, that we didn't completely mess up by running off into the woods, all came crashing down.
But then they came. "Soldiers", dressed in ill-fitting grey. They took us inside with guns to our backs, delivering us to this nutcase story of a rebellion.
"That's why we're still here? You mean, if we hadn't kick-started a rebellion, you would have left us to the Capitol?" Now I feel the rage building up. "Why do you care so much anyways? Look at yourselves! You've been holed up in here with your food and your medicine and your bombs and hovercraft and you never even lifted a finger to help! Not with the poverty, not with the starvation, and not with the Hunger Games! So you give me one good reason why I should sit here and listen to you when my best friend is out there being hurt or tortured or killed at the hands of the Capitol!"
"Katniss," Coin interjects, almost gently. "We can get Gale back."
I stare at her in complete shock. And I sit back down.
"Okay," I say, my voice terse. "Tell me about the rebellion." And she does.
"Of course, the Capitol would have never wanted the people in the Districts to find out that young children from District 12 had defied them. If you could do it, what was to stop the rest of them? But, you so cleverly decided to leave during the Reaping. No one would have been the wiser for at least a few days. If not for… well, see for yourselves."
She picks up a small remote and clicks on the large screen behind her. I'm confused as to what she's showing us until I see the familiar bleak outline of the Justice Building. "Why…" I trail off. I see the shockingly bright pink hair of Effie Trinket, District 12's annoyingly bubbly escort from the Capitol. The clock strikes two. The Reaping begins. The mayor steps up and rambles on and I tune him out until I see a completely drunk Haymitch Abernathy stagger onstage and try to give Effie Trinket a big hug. 'As reapings go, this one at least has a slight entertainment factor.'I catch myself almost looking back to see Gale's reaction, and a jolt of pain goes through me when I realize that he's not there.
"Ladies first!" Effie chirps on-screen as I focus back on the video. She reaches in, and finally pulls out a name. Another young life to be destroyed. I close my eyes, and I still don't understand why we're watching the Reaping until I hear it. The name. It's not me. It's Primrose Everdeen.
'One time, when I was in a blind in a tree, waiting motionless for game to wander by, I dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on my back. It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from my lungs, and I lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. That's how I feel now, trying to remember how to breather, unable to speak, totally stunned as the name bounces around the inside of my skull.' Well, a snide voice in my head says. 'There's your proof that running away was a good idea. You know that you would have died in that arena if you hadn't.'
I'm jolted back to reality by Coin's voice. "…Of course, the Capitol had no idea that you weren't there, otherwise they would have cut the broadcast immediately. But they just thought she was reluctant to go up. Ladies and gentlemen… the entire country of Panem saw that you had disappeared. You became a symbol of hope to the Districts." She shifts her disconcerting grey stare to my eyes. Her face is completely blank, wiped of all emotion. I wonder how long it took for her to perfect this poker face of hers. "And that's why we need you."
And then I understand. They want to recruit me. They want to use me.
I can't take this anymore.
But luckily I don't have to.
Coin's communicator bracelet beeps and she turns away from us to converse quietly and I take the opportunity to exchange glances with Hazel and my mom. Then Coin switches on the TV again.
The Capitol anthem is blaring and I can tell it's a mandatory viewing segment. But what…? And then it hits me. This is the 75th year. A Quarter Quell. This is the reading of the card. Obviously, I've never lived through an anniversary of the Games, but I do know that each year comes with a twist. Haymitch Abernathy won the 50th Games, where double the normal tributes were sent in. I shudder. It's bad enough competing with 23 other people for survival… but 47?
President Snow stands at a podium, giving a speech as the Capitol people cheer him on. I feel disgust twisting at my stomach and I have to look away from their sick excitement.
"To remind the Districts that friend will turn on friend to save their own life… this year, there will be separate Hunger Games for each District, with 12 males and 12 females competing. The winning tribute from each District will compete in the final Hunger Games, which will follow the regular rules: may the best tribute win."
Snow looks up from the card he was reading and a sneer pulls at the corners of his large, puffy lips.
"May the odds be ever in your favor."
Instead of the broadcast ending and the screen going black like I would expect, it instead cuts back to the Justice Building of District 12. I think first that Coin is replaying last year's reaping footage and I look over at her in annoyance, trying to get her to switch it off. But instead she stares thoughtfully up at the screen, brows knitted. My blood turns cold as I realize that whatever this is, it cannot be good.
And it isn't.
How do I know this?
Effie Trinket dominates the stage again, this time in metallic gold. And covered in butterflies.
My heart sinks as I see the two glass balls.
Name after name is called and I am brought to the brink of tears by all the young faces, some of them too young to even comprehend. I reach for Prim for comfort and bury my face in her air.
But then I hear it.
Male number 7.
It's a name I never dared to imagine that I would ever hear again.
Much less in District 12.
"Gale Hawthorne!" calls Effie in her high nasal Capitol accent. And just for a moment, I allow myself to hope, to believe, that it was a mistake for Gale's name to still be in the reaping ball; that he is still in the hands of the Capitol. Even if they were hurting him I had a chance to rescue him. But that all fades away when I stare in utter belief at the man walking up to the stage with his head held high. Never once giving in.
His grey eyes meet mine.
I hold contact for as long as I can until they cut back to the next name.
And I turn to Coin.
"I'm in."