For the first time in her life, Katniss crashed on someone's couch.
The drive over had been both mundane and unreal. The black streets that seems to run everyone were impossibly smooth, nothing like the dirt roads of District 12. They resembled the "too good to be true" feelings that were common in the capitol, with one distinction: In the Capitol everything was always spotless. Unpaid servants and bots took care of that. Here the roads had paper and garbage blowing about. Here things looked used, while the Capitol rigorously created the image of newness and perfection. Looking out from the window of Adam's car, the dirty world somehow felt much more wholesome.
Katniss couldn't figure out why Adam's vehicle stopped so many times during the drive, and how Adam seemed to stop at the exact same time as so many other people. Then, a stream of other cars would come streaming from some other street, all perfectly coordinated, at top speed for a few minutes.
Her glance drifted over to her driver. His eyes were wide and nervously shifting. His face looked full and sick, as if he could open his mouth and his insides would come streaming out. Adam looked wild and exhausted, a feeling Katniss knew too well from all of her guided tours of the districts.
After some time they reached the tall buildings she had seen from the treetops so far away. Even late at night, everything was bright. Light shone down from tall metal poles. People sitting on the streets, looking like beggars, staring at glowing screens in their laps. Incredible smells of cheeses, liquor, hot breads - and at night! How could this past be more advanced than her time in the future? How could so many people be so better off?
"Snow," she said out loud. And she bit her lip and tried to push down the rage.
Adam's blue car pulled in front of a two-story grey building with white shutters, A modest garden could be seen under the lights by the stairs. Red tomatoes winked at her. At the top of a brick staircase were two doors with numbers atop of each. Adam led her towards the door to the left and used a small key to open the door. The room was mostly dark, but little beacons of light were everywhere. The numbers "11:27 PM" beamed out from a small metal box. Small devices twinkled in the corners.
Adam pointed at a long piece of furniture to her and handed her a blanket.
"The bathroom is over there," he said, waving absently at a door. He took a clear bottle from a large rectangular device and handed it to her. It was delightfully cold. "Here's some water."
Adam suddenly stood up straight.
"You aren't going to hunt me, right?" he said. "Or take anything? Or freak out tonight? I have renters insurance, but making a claim is a real pain in the ass. Once in grad school someone stole my comics and…"
"I will be fine and won't hurt you or your belongings. I promise," Katniss said.
Then she did something she didn't want to do. She put her hand on his shoulder and give it a light squeeze. And she flashed him a big smile. It seemed unnatural to her, to express happiness outwardly. It reminded her again of the Hunger Games tours, and the cameras. And the people.
Katniss didn't see herself as a beautiful person, or really as any kind of feminine creature. She loved Peeta but hated the fact that she could feel that way. It made her feel weak. But she understood attraction, and this man seemed to like the way she looked. And she was tired of living in trees. Maybe, just this once, she could make it work for her.
Adam blinked at her, and felt the warmth of her hand. His resolve melted.
"OK, OK." Adam said. "Go to sleep."
He pulled his tired body towards an open doorway, and Katniss heard him collapse on a bed. And then, silence.
She took off her boots and socks and took a sip of water. She couldn't make out too much in the dark room she was in, but for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Or safer than the forest, anyway. She stretched out her legs and was amazed at how comfortable she felt. She allowed herself the smallest of real smiles before she fell deeply asleep.