Hello readers! I hope you enjoy this chapter of my story!

Peeta's POV

Katniss and I sat waiting for our private sessions. Rue had just been called in, and we were no longer talking. I spent my time wondering what all the other tributes had done. The boy from one had probably thrown spears; the girl from two had definitely
thrown knives. That girl from 5 had probably done a memory puzzle, which is the only thing I've seen her do in training. I'm not sure what Rue was doing, as I had never seen her do much fighting. She probably wouldn't receive a high score, but you
never know. "Peeta Melark!" A voice called my name from the room. As I walked in, Katniss unexpectedly called after me, "Remember what Haymitch said about throwing the waits." "Thanks. I will. You, shoot straight." I replied. Why had she said that?
Did she actually...

No. She wouldn't. I shoved the thought as I enter the gym. Right away, I knew I was in trouble. Almost all the game makers were chugging wine bottles, and only a few were looking at me. I ignored them and went to the weight section. The first ball I picked
up was labeled with a "100" and I threw it at a dummy. It hit is square in the head; if it had been a human, it would have been dead. A few more heavy balls hit more dummies. I looked at the game makers. One or two were taking notes, but most of them
were dancing around the table, singing a drinking song. Looking back, I didn't know how I hadn't heard if before.

I pushed them out of my head and headed toward the rock wall. As I pulled myself up nearly 20 feet in the air, one of the drunk game makers called up to me, "You can go now, Peeta Melark." A bunch of them cracked up, as if they had no idea how I could
simply climb down. I left them, smoldering, thinking about how I would be lucky to scrape a 4. Really, I was about to be hauled off to almost certain death, and then didn't even have the decency to look at me.

"You won't believe-" I snapped at Haymitch as soon as I walked onto the District 12 floor. "Let me guess." He interrupted. "By the time you got in, most of the game makers were either too drunk or too bored to notice you." "How did you-" I began. "Happens
every year," Haymitch said. "District 12 is last and the least likely to produce a victor." "Well, that's no excuse!" Trilled a high voice from behind me. Effie had just entered. Then she went all pale, like she had just said something terrible.
"Oh, dear, I'm getting much too outspoken, aren't I?" Just then, the door flew open and Katniss flew past us, crying. "Katniss!" Effie called. "Come back!" Her door slammed, and I heard the lock click. "We should go check on her," Haymitch said, and
for the first time, I heard a bit of concern in his voice. We all stood up, but then Haymitch added, "Just me and Effie, boy. You stay here." I started to protest, but they had already left.

About 5 minutes later, they returned, shaking their heads. "Well, at least we'll see her at dinner," said Effie, her voice shaking. Haymitch didn't say anything, only turned a pear from the fruit bowl on the coffee table over in his hands. I realized
something right there: Haymitch and Effie actually cared about us. Drunken, grumpy Haymitch and overbearing, maniacal Effie cared. I had always thought of the Capitol citizens as Games loving, blood thirsty. Compassionate? Caring? Those
were two words I would never have assigned to any Capitol resident. But here sat Haymitch and Effie, and I could tell that I had been wrong.

At dinner, I noticed that Katniss's eyes were red from crying. I shot her a questioning look, hoping my eyes would ask what my mouth couldn't. What happened? In response, she just shook her head. Haymitch put his fork and knife down and said, "So.
Just how bad were you guys?" Katniss stared down miserably at her soup, so I decided to go first.

"I threw the weights, butI don't think it mattered much," I said. "By the time I showed up, none of them bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song." "And you, sweetheart?" Haymitch asked Katniss. "I shot an arrow at the
Game makers," she said. It took a moment for that to sink in. "You...what?" "I shot an arrow at them. It's like Peeta said: I was shooting, and they were ignoring me, and I just...I lost my head. So I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's
mouth." "And how did they respond?" Cinna asked slowly. "They didn't! Or I didn't see. I walked out after that." "Without being dismissed?" Effie sounded horrified. Somehow I didn't think that shooting an apple would cause this reaction from Katniss.
There had to be something else. "What will they do to my family?" She whispered. There. That was it. Katniss loved her family more than anything else. Of course she was worried that the game makers would take what she did and punish her family for
it. Haymitch calmed her down, though. "What happened in that room is secret," he said, "so they'd have to reveal what happened for it to have any worthwhile effect on the population. Most likely, they'll make your life hell in the arena." "Well they've
already promised to do that." I pointed out. "Very true," said Haymitch. Katniss smiled a little. "I'll get a very low score," she said. "Scores only matter if they're very good," Portia explained. "No one pays any attention to the bad or mediocre
ones." "What were their faces like?" Haymitch chucked. "Shocked. Ridiculous, some of them." She started to snicker. "One man tripped backwards and fell into a bowl of punch." Haymitch spat out a mouthful of stew and cracked up, which set everyone
else off. Well, except for Effie, who frowned at Haymitch's manners, but was suppressing a smile underneath. "Well, it serves them right! Just because you come from District 12 isn't a reason to ignore you!" Then she clapped her hand
over her mouth, like she had just dropped a disgusting swear word. "I'm sorry, but that's what I think," she said to no one in particular. When we had finished eating, we headed over to the couch to watch the announcement of the scores.

The anthem played on the TV, and the seal of the Capitol flashed on the screen. The boy from District 1's face appeared, followed by a score of 8. On and on it went, until it got to District 12. My face appeared. I braced myself, preparing for a low score,
but to my astonishment, a large 8 appeared next to my face. 8? I had gotten as high of a score as some of the Career Tributes! Then Katniss's face was shown on the screen. I could feel her tense beside me. The highest score of the night was
written next to her: 11. It took a moment for it to sink in. Then all at once, we started cheering, congratulating each other, thumping Katniss and me on the back. This was the first time in Hunger Games History that a District 12 tribute had scored
as high as a career.

Prim's POV

My mother and I stood again in the square, this time waiting for the mandatory viewing of the training scores. My days in school had been filled with wondering what Katniss had been doing. She was a fighter, yes, but I had seen the competition. I wanted
her to win, but deep down I think I knew that her chances of survival were very slim. We were asked to turn our attention to the screens as the anthem played. Why did District 12 have to be last? Why did I have to wait through 23 tributes to see how
my sister had done? When they showed her score, the crowd took in a collective breath. Eleven? But District 12 tributes never outscore careers! My mother was in a better mood after that then I had seen her in since my dad was alive. She
took the rabbits Gale had given her and roasted them over the fire, and we ate them with salad from dandelions I had gathered earlier and fresh bakery bread. Apparently the baker promised Katniss that he would make sure I was eating. Most of my doubts
about her winning were flushed away. She may be smaller, but if she could impress the Game Makers, then she could beat the games.

Gale's POV

I lay on my bed, thinking about what had happened today. In the woods I had gathered greens and hunted for hours, motivated by the need for food for both my and Katniss's family, but also with the hopes that I could sell it and donate to Katniss. The
collection Greasy Sae had been running was doing well. It wasn't much, by Capitol standards, but still, a well-timed gift could change the outcome of the games. I sold half a gallon of strawberries to the mayor, three squirrels to the baker, and a
wild turkey to our head peacekeeper. When I walked into the Hob, I dumped half my coins into the collection tin. "If the coins keep coming in at this rate," Greasy Sae confided in me, "I'll have to get a bigger tin." Indeed, whenever I walked by the
Hob, I could see people donating. Charles, the man who sells odd little trinkets. Bertha, the lady who sells worn-out mining tools cheap. Everyone wanted to see Katniss come home, either because they like her or were fond of her game. Then, at the
square, it seemed like almost the whole District was celebrating after Katniss and Peeta scored an 8 and an 11. I smiled, but everyone knew that was the same as Greasy Sae practically swinging from the rafters and handing out free bowls of stew.
/Thank you for reading. I'm so sorry for the late update, but something happened last week that made me have to put fanfiction aside for a little. I got a new puppy! Yay! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter and again, please review!