Haymitch steps forward and takes hold of Katniss' wrist, as if expecting her to jump forward, or do something else drastic. It's not exactly and unprecedented expectation. Katniss seems frozen to the spot for a moment, but she twists her arm from Haymitch's grasp and storms away to her bedroom.
"Well, what on earth is the matter with her!" Effie sighs, and both Haymitch and I answer her at the same time.
"Nothing, Effie." We glance at one another, but I break away and go to my old bedroom. It looks exactly like it had the year before. I get straight into the shower, washing off all of the make up that Portia had caked me in, and then allowing the hot water to just wash over me. Placing Darius as our Avox is a cold and calculating move, and no doubt had come straight from President Snow. I hadn't been particularly close acquaintances with him, but Katniss had spent a lot of her time in the Hob, and I'm sure she knew him pretty well. There's a knock at my door, Effie calling me to dinner. I turn off the shower and step on to the drying matt, using the second contraption to dry my hair. I grab my fake leg from next to the shower and strap it on tightly, hobbling across the room to pull out some clean clothes. Portia, Cinna, and Haymitch are already sat at the table and I greet them whilst sitting down. Portia comes into the room, soon followed by Katniss. Dinner passes by mostly uneventful, with everybody talking about the opening ceremonies. Except Katniss, who sits sullenly and eats her meal in silence. The only thing that happens is Katniss knocks over a dish of peas, and scrambles to pick them up. Darius is already at her side to help, and Effie is tutting and shaking her head.
"Get up, that isn't your job, Katniss." I stab the meat on my plate, and silently remind myself that Effie isn't a bad person, really.
We go into the living room to watch the recap of the Opening Ceremonies, and Katniss wedges between Cinna and Haymitch on the sofa. I have a feeling she's mad at me for something again, most likely laughing at her earlier in the elevators. I shake my head to myself, and Portia pats my shoulder in her sympathy. I flash her a weak smile, returning my gaze to the television screen. It's quite sad to see all of the old Tributes rolling through in their costumes. Katniss and I are the youngest Tributes this year. We are mostly silently as we watch, with only a few comments. As soon as the screen is switched off, Katniss stands, thanks Cinna and Portia, and leaves for her bedroom. Effie calls after her to remind her to be up early in the morning.
I wait a few minutes after she's gone before standing up myself. Portia takes hold of my hand but I just smile at her and subtly shake my head. Tonight, I don't wish to talk. Portia nods in her understand and let's me go. I hear them chattering behind me, but don't know what they say. I stop outside my bedroom door and turn back, making my way to Katniss' room. I don't know if there's anything I can say to her, but I have to at least try. I knock gently on the door and wait, but there's no answer. Not even the sound of her stirring. With a heavy heart, I return to my own room and fall into the bed.
That night I relive a memory, but it twists itself in my nightmares. I'm a child again, helping my mother in the bakery.
She's shouting at someone in the back alley, and I can't help but peek around her and out of the door. In the light of the kitchen, I see a small, bedraggled girl looking at us with wide eyes. She's been rummaging through the rubbish bins, like so many others. But I recognise the small girl with her braided hair. My mother shouts out at the girl again and pushes me back in, barking at me to attend to the bread. When she isn't looking, I push two loaves too far to the flames of the oven, so that the end burns to a crisp black. I pull the blackened crusts out, and my mother's hand comes down across my face.
"You stupid boy! Look at that, we can't sell it any more!" Of course, that is the entire point.
"I'm sorry, Mama!" I try to sound apologetic, but she's already cursing over me.
"Go to bed, you stupid boy!"
"What about the bread, Mama? Shall I feed it to the pigs?" I ask, glancing at the back door.
"The pigs? This will be your meal tomorrow, boy! All you're getting to eat!" She snaps, taking the loaves and placing them on the side. No, that isn't right. I have to take them out of the back door, I have to throw them. Her hand comes down again and she pushes me to the stairs. "You deaf? I said go to bed!" I have no choice, my feet are already carrying me up to my bed. The image twists, and I'm at a funeral. There are people sobbing across from me. A young girl in a coffin, who had died from pneumonia on a rainy, dark night behind the Mellark Bakery. In my nightmare, she doesn't exist.
"Peeta Mellark!" My name, being Reaped. Prim standing beside me on the stage, trying to look brave. I have to protect this small girl, a reminder of the one I didn't protect. I'm pushed up into the arena, but I don't know what to do. There's Cato, ahead of me, and Clove at his side. But their faces are twisted and gnarled, a mixture of human and wolf. Their limbs aren't proportionate. Some of the Tributes have to crawl along the floor, some run but only fall over their own overgrown arms. Somebody attacks me, and there's a knife in my hand. I slam it into their throat, and blood is spraying over me, and gushing over the body. And it's Katniss staring up at me in shock, he arm outstretched, my name on her bloody lips.
"No!" I scream. She can't be here. She didn't exist. I didn't save her. I'm not in the Arena any more. Katniss is in a Wedding dress, one that I've seen before. There are people screaming all around me, someone pulling me away but I fight them off, I have to get back to Katniss and make it right. It can't be Katniss. Hands around my throat, yanking me away. I cry out for her, but there's too much blood. It's stained the white dress. I look up, into Gale's hateful eyes.
"You shouldn't be here, Peeta. This is our wedding, not yours."
I sit up with a gasp, crying out before I can stop myself. Sweat covers my entire body, and I have to wipe at the tears pooling in my eyes. I'm panting heavily, and it takes a few moments to calm myself down. Just a nightmare, another nightmare. I fall back onto the pillow with a heavy sigh, not wanting to return to the torture. I spend the rest of the night in my bed, imagining what I would paint if I were back home, and trying not to fall asleep. When light starts to infiltrate the room, I get up and have a shower. I'm the first one at the breakfast table, so I pick at what I think I can manage to eat and sit down. Haymitch skulks in to the room and actually picks up some breakfast, although it's not much. Cinna and Portia come in almost at the same time, and then Effie.
"Where's Katniss?" Haymitch asks, and Effie looks flustered.
"I don't know – I told her to be here! I knocked on her door, I'm sure she'll be here any moment." Yet, she doesn't come out. And Haymitch drinks more, and becomes more and more agitated when Katniss doesn't come out. "Oh, I have something for you." Effie tells Haymitch, and pulls out a golden bangle, which has a pattern of flames on it. Haymitch accepts it without any enthusiasm, but still puts it on his wrist. An hours passes by, and Cinna and Portia make their apologies, but they have places to be. It's not long before Effie has to go, as well. Haymitch and I sit in silence, staring at the hall where Katniss' room is. Another half hour, and Haymitch jumps to his feet, storming down to her room. I hear him banging on her door and yelling at her to get to the dining room. She finally wanders into the room, but I'm not looking at her, my fingers tracing the patters across the wooden table.
"You're late," Haymitch snarls.
"Sorry. I slept in after the mutilated-tongue nightmares kept me up half the night," she replies. At first her voice is hard, but catches at the end. I was killing you in my nightmares, I think to myself glumly.
"All right, never mind. Today, in training, you've got two jobs." Haymitch begins, but I've already heard this. One, stay in love." That was already obvious.
"Obviously," Kantiss remarks.
"And two, make some friends."
"No," Katniss says instantly. "I don't trust any of them, I can't stand most of them, and I'd rather operate with just the two of us."
"That's what I said at first, but-" I start.
"But it won't be enough," Haymitch says firmly. "You're going to need more allies this time around."
"Why?" Katniss asks.
"Because you're at a distinct disadvantage. Your competitors have known each other for years. So who do you think they're going to target first?"
"Us. And nothing we're going to do is going to override any old friendship. So why bother?" It's a good point.
"Because you can fight. You're popular with the crowd. That could still make you desirable allies. But only if you let the others know you're willing to team up with them." An even better point. I trail off the grain of the wood with my index finger.
"You mean you want us in the Career pack this year?" Katniss says in distaste. "And who makes up the Career pack is generally agreed upon before the Games begin. Peeta barely got in with them last year." She pauses, probably remembering. "So we're to try to get in with Finnick and Brutus – is that what you're saying?" She asks. I wonder if she makes it a purpose in life to makes things just a little more difficult.
"Not necessarily. Everyone's a victor. Make your own pack if you'd rather. Choose who you like. I'd suggest Chaff and Seeder. Although Finnick's not to be ignored." Hard for anyone to ignore him really, he's always in somebody's face. Not to mention he's considered the most attractive man in Panem. He's also very flirty from the sounds of it. I realise my thoughts are going off topic and concentrate on Haymitch and Katniss again. "Find someone to team up with who might be of some use to you. Remember, you're not in a ring full of trembling children any more. These people are all experienced killers, no matter what shape they appear to be in." Haymitch says.
"All right, I'll try." Katniss sighs. Effie shows up to take us down to the Training, but Haymitch tells her we should go down by ourselves. We're the youngest, and it would only seem as if we need a babysitter. So Katniss and I step into the elevator in our silence, and say nothing on the way down. I take hold of her hand half way down, because we must seem like the couple in love. She still says nothing, nor does she look at me. It's very disheartening. When the doors open, we see that there are only two people waiting in the gym. When it comes to ten, only half of the Tributes arrive, but the woman who runs the training starts up with batting an eyelid. Perhaps she hadn't expected full attendance. She releases us to train, and Katniss looks at me briefly.
"We should split up, and cover more ground with the others." I don't argue, and we head in our separate directions. I head straight for the weights, knowing that a good workout on them will help me with my frustrations. There's no need to hide my supposed skills in front of these Tributes, as everything we kept hidden last year is now known throughout Panem. I throw some of the weights and decide to stop, because I'm already feeling better, and I need to concentrate on making friends. I turn around, and Johanna is watching me.
"Hello, Johanna," I say politely, wondering which station to travel to next.
"You're such a gentleman, you know." She says, and I glance at her again.
"Oh, why's that?"
"When we were in the elevator, your eyes didn't stray once. You kept them on my pretty little face," she tilts her head to the side, taking on a wondering expression. "Now, why is that?" I chuckle, my eyes travelling quickly to Katniss of their own accord. For some reason, I don't really want her seeing me talk to Johanna.
"Ah," Johanna notices the quick glance. "I think, you really are in love with her. Is that right, Mr Lover boy?" She asks, a smirk crawling across her lips.
"Don't call me that," I snap, thinking of Clove and Cato. Long gone.
I make my way to the knife throwing, where a few people are already assembled, and Johanna follows closely behind.
"Fascinated," she says behind me, and I do my best to ignore her. "Your fiancee has chosen interesting company," she carries on. I look over to where Katniss is sat. She's at the fire building station, with the male and female from District Three. They're an older couple. Johanna notices me looking. "Wiress and Beetee, although they're known to most as Nuts and Volts. Inventors, but not all there in the mind." Johanna comments, before stalking off to a different station.
I turn my attention to the knives. Luckily, my practice with Katniss and Haymitch has improved my skill with a knife, and I'm even able to throw them and get my target, most of the time. I join in conversation with the others there, and it isn't long before we have a group of people around the same station, chattering and pretending to look busy. It's obvious the people here are trying to build friendships, and make their groups ready for the arena. I make no commits, but try to get a stand on the people, and who might be useful to ally with.
Everybody makes their way into the dining room, and a few of the people I had been talking to pull a bunch of tables together, so that everyone can eat together. It's much more social than dinners last year, when I had only had Katniss for company. And we hadn't exactly been on talking terms, either. I look around for her, and catch up with Katniss at the food carts.
"How's it going?" I ask her.
"Good. Fine. I like the District Three victors. Wiress and Beete." Katniss tells me.
"Really? They're something of a joke to the others," I remember the jokes everyone had made up about them. I was under the impression that the District Three victors might be no use at all.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Katniss says. I chew on my lower lip.
"Johanna's nicknamed them Nuts and Volts. I think she's Nuts and he's Volts." I tell her.
"And so I'm stupid for thinking they might be useful. Because of something Johanna said while she was oiling up her breasts for wrestling," Katniss retorts, and I bite back the urge to sigh. Just like the year before. I try to share information and act the team we're meant to be, and Katniss sees it as an affront on her.
"Actually I think the nickname's been around for years. And I didn't mean that as an insult. I'm just sharing information."
"Well, Wiress and Beetee are smart. They invent things. They could tell by sight that a force field had been put up between us and the Gamemakers. And if we have to have allies, I want them." Katniss tosses the ladle into the stew, and I'm sprayed with a few drops of gravy.
"What are you do angry about?" I ask her. "Because I teased you in the elevator? I'm sorry. I thought you would just laugh about it."
"Forget it," she shakes her head. "It's a lot of things."
"Darius," I say.
"Darius. The Games. Haymitch making us team up with others."
"It can be just you and me, you know." I try to reason.
"I know. But maybe Haymitch is right. Don't tell him I said so, but he usually is, where the Games are concerned."
"well, you can have the final say about out allies. But right now, I'm leaning towards Chaff and Seeder." They're both strong Tributes, and not so bad people.
"I'm okay with Seeder, not Chaff." I wonder if that has anything to do with their first meeting.
"Come on and eat with him. I promise, I won't let him kiss you again," I say, holding back the smile.
Everybody eats together and it's generally a nice atmosphere, that it's almost easy to forget all but one of us will be dead soon. Almost. After dinner, we go back in to Training. I try out a few more stations, and make more friends. Finnick sidles up to my side at some point, and I'm about to turn and leave, but he has an elderly woman at his side. He introduces her as Mags, but she herself doesn't seem able to make a coherent sentence.
The highlight of Training is when Katniss stops at the Archery station. One by one, most of the Tributes turn to watch her shoot at some fake birds. She takes down five of them in the air, and turns to the room, seeming to notice the silence. Blood rushes to her cheeks when she notices us staring at her in admiration, envy, or hatred. I've never seen her shoot properly, and am entirely impressed. She's an exceptional shooter.
When Training is finished, Katniss and I lounge around in the sitting room until we are called for dinner. Haymitch wastes no time before launching into his onslaught on Katniss. "So at least half the victors have instructed their mentors to request you as an ally. I know it can't be your sunny personality."
"They saw her shoot," I smile. "Actually, I saw her shoot, for real, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself," I joke.
"You're that good?" He quirks an eyebrow in her direction. "So good that Brutus wants you?"
"But I don't want Brutus," Katniss replies with a shrug. "I want Mags and District Three." Haymitch sighs.
"Of course you do." He orders a bottle of wine. "I'll tell everybody you're still making up your mind."
That night, Portia meets me in my room.
"Ah, Portia. I've been meaning to look for you."I say, as I lift myself from my bed. I search in the bedside drawer and pull out the two photos hidden. One of Gale, and one of Prim and her mother, which I had gotten a couple days before the Reaping. "These are the photos I need putting into the locket. You'll have to have them resized, of course." I tell her pleasantly.
"You don't plan on coming out, do you?" Portia asks quietly, after inspecting the photos. I freeze on the spot, my mouth opening to say something, but words fail me. Portia lifts her head to look at me, but for once there are no tears in her eyes. "That's the only reason you'd have these pictures. Of people that Katniss loves. You're trying to convince her to win, aren't you?" I swallow and nod slowly.
"Yes, yes I am. "Portia nods, her eyes back on the photos. "I'm sorry, Portia." She smiles up at me.
"What for? Being in love?" She laughs half-heartedly, and hugs me briefly before leaving. I'm at a loss for words, and get into bed.
Training passes by quickly, and as much as I try not to get too friendly with the other Tributes, I find myself liking most of them. Yet they all have to die, so that Katniss can come out of the Arena. The final day of training arrives in no time at all, and we have to have our private sessions with the Gamemakers. I've no idea what I'm supposed to do for them, because they already know my skills. They know everybody's' skills, so what are any of us meant to do? At lunch, everyone kids around and jokes about what they might do. A lot of suggestions of singing and dancing, and Mags tells us that she's going to take a nap. The best idea I've heard. Haymitch tells us that we must try to surprise them if we can, and I spend all afternoon racking my brains for an idea. Throwing around weights isn't going to get me very far, considering that was my plan for the year before. I don't really have any skills beyond that, except maybe camouflage. If only they left us some ingredients and an oven, I could bake the best cake they've ever tasted.
When it is just Katniss and I waiting for our private sessions, I reach across the table and take her hands in mine. "Decided what to do for the Gamemakers yet?" I ask her, and she shakes her head.
"I can't really use them for target practice this year, with the force field up and all. Maybe make some fishooks. What about you?"
"Not a clue. I keep wishing I could bake a cake or something." I say.
"Do some more camouflage," Katniss suggests, which I had already been thinking of.
"If the morphlings have left me anything to work with. They've been glued to that station since traingin started." There's a pause of silence.
"How are we going to kill these people, Peeta?" Katniss blurts out. A question I'd been trying not to think of.
"I don't know." I lower my forehead, so that it's resting on our interlocked hands.
"I don't want them as allies. Why did Haymitch want us to get to know them? It'll make it so much harder than last time. Except for Rue maybe. But I guess I never really could've killed her, anyway. She was just too much like Prim." I glance up at her, with a frown settled on my expression.
"Her death was the most despicable, wasn't it?" I ask. Suddenly, I don't want to impress the Gamemakers.
"None of them were very pretty." Before I can answer, someone is calling my name. I make my way into the room, where the Gamemakers are sat. They're paying more attention than they did the year before, but they still have glasses of wine and some food splayed before them. A few of them are chattering excitedly between themselves. I make my over to the camouflage table, and notice that thankfully there are enough dyes there for what I want. I pull a few over with me of the middle of the floor, sticking my hands into the different paints and making long strokes on the floor. A picture begins to form under my hands. I use a lot of yellow, around the edge of what I've painted so far, adding in small colours here and there. When I've finished, I slowly get to my feet and step to the side, so that the Gamemakers can see the painting fully. A deep silence falls over the room, and there are a few gasps. They all stare down at my painting of Rue, with the flowers around her head. They all know that this is from just after she died. I stare up at them with a hard expression.
It was your fault. Her death is on your hands. I tell them silently, although they don't hear me.
"You may go," Plutarch Heavenbee tells me, and I make my way over to the elevator. Just before the elevator doors close, I hear someone shouting behind me.
"Clean that up! Get me more wine!" The elevator shoots up to Floor Twelve.
I stand in the shower for a long time, and scrub myself clean multiple times. Still, my hands are covered in various coloured dyes. Strapping on my leg, I get dressed and sit on my bed, waiting. Finally, there's a rap on my door, and someone calls me out to dinner. Haymitch questions us as soon as the soup is served, but I'm not too eager to share my story.
"All right, so how did your private sessions go?" Katniss and I glance at one another, and she seems to be suffering from the same reservations that I am.
"You first. It must have been really special. I had to wait for forty minutes to go in." Katniss tells me, which must have been them trying to clean up my painting.
"Well, I – I did the camouflage thing, like you suggested, Katniss." I hesitate. "Not exactly camouflage. I mean, I used the dyes."
"To do what?" Portia asks me curiously.
"You painted something, didn't you? A picture." Katniss says, and I glance up at her.
"Did you see it?"
"No. But they'd made a real point of covering it up." That isn't surprising.
"Well, that would be standard. They can't let one tribute know what another did." Effie says. "What did you paint, Peeta? Was it a picture of Katniss?"
"Why would he paint a picture of me, Effie?" Katniss asks her in annoyance.
"To show he's going to do everything he can to defend you. That's what everyone in the Capitol's expecting, anyway. Didn't he volunteer to go in with you?" Effie says. Portia stares down at her soup.
"Actually, I painted a picture of Rue. How she looked after Katniss covered her in flowers," I tell them, because there's no point keeping it to myself. There's a long pause.
"And what exactly were you trying to accomplish?" Haymitch asks, sounding as if he's trying very hard to keep calm.
"I'm not sure," I admit. "I just wanted to hold them accountable, if only for a moment. For killing that little girl."
"This is dreadful," Effie almost cries, sounding a little tearful. "That sort of thinking … it's forbidden, Peeta. Absolutely. You'll only bring down more trouble on yourself and Katniss."
"I have to agree with Effie on this one," Haymitch says. Everyone looks very serious.
"I guess this is a bad time to mention I hung a dummy and painted Seneca Crane's name on it," Katniss says, and I stare at her in shock.
"You … hung … Seneca Crane?" Cinna asks slowly.
"Yes. I was showing off my new knot-tying skills, and he somehow ended up at the end of the noose."
"Oh, Katniss. How do you even know about that?" Effie asks quietly.
"Is it a secret? President Snow didn't act like it was. In fact, he seemed eager for me to know." Effie leaves the room in a rush, her napkin covering her tears. "Now I've upset Effie. I should have lied and said I shot some arrows."
"You'd have thought we planned it," I say, with the hint of a smile.
"Didn't you?" Portia asks, looking like she's warding off a headache.
"No. Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in." Katniss says.
"And, Haymitch?" I add. "We decided we don't want any other allies in the arena." I tell him.
"Good. Then I won't be responsible for you killing off any of my friends with your stupidity," Haymitch replies.
"That's just what we were thinking." Katniss says.
The rest of the meal is silent, and we gather around the television for the results. Effie manages to gather herself enough to join us, although her eyes are red.
"Have they ever given a zero?" Katniss asks when it gets close to our names.
"No, but there's a first time for everything," Cinna answers.
Our names finally come up, and I stare at the television. My photo stares back out at me, with a twelve flashing beneath it. There's no celebration, and the atmosphere is rather sombre. We both got twelves, which is historic in the Games.
"Why did they do that?" Katniss asks.
"So that the others will have no choice but to target you." Haymitch replies with a flat tone. "Go to bed. I can't stand to look at either one of you." I walk with Katniss to her bedroom door, and she wraps her arms around my body, her head falling against my chest. I slide my hands up her back to pull her to me, leaning my cheek gently against her head.
"I'm sorry if I made things worse," Katniss mumbles into my chest.
"No worse than I did. Why did you do it, anyway?" I ask her.
"I don't know. To show them that I'm more than just a piece in their Games?" she replies, and I laugh gently, a memory of last year falling into my mind, when I had said those same words to her.
"Me, too. And I'm not saying I'm not going to try. To get you home, I mean. But if I'm perfectly honest about it ..."
"If you're perfectly honest about it, you think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway," Katniss voices my thoughts.
"It's crossed my mind." I admit. "But even if that happens, everyone will know we've gone out fighting, right?"
"Everyone will," she says. "So what should we do with our last few days?" Katniss asks, and there's only one thought in my mind.
"I just want to spend the every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," I tell her. No matter how long that life might be.
"Come on, then." She says, and pulls me into her room. I fall asleep that night with my arms around Katniss.