"You what?" Haymitch slams his hand down on the table making the liquor in his glass dance.
"Blindfolded too," I say somewhat smugly.
Peeta sniggers, "You're joking right?" I shake my head and the smile from his face disappears.
"That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard of a tribute doing!" Portia remarks. Cinna glares at her and she counters, "I just think it's a suicide mission, that's all."
"I agree," Haymitch adds, "You have just sealed your fate sweetheart - and that fate ain't pretty."
"Honestly Katniss, what have I taught you about etiquette?" Effie sniffs, clearly upset over the thought of this tarnishing her reputation.
"Maybe this could work to her advantage" Cinna leans back in his chair and strokes his bottom lip with his fingers, "They're calling her the 'girl on fire', after all. Perhaps a fiery attitude could add to her image."
"Who's calling her that?" Haymitch snorts, sculling the rest of his liquor and beckoning the Avox to bring another bottle.
"Me, initially. But it has caught on." Cinna says calmly, grabbing the bottle and placing it out of his reach. Haymitch promised to remain sober throughout the mentoring process so long as we do what he says. It's clear that I've pushed him over the edge.
"They're not going to excuse her behaviour because it's consistent with her image." Portia says, "They'll kill her for sure. Nobody makes a fool of the-"
"That's enough Portia," Cinna says sternly. Haymitch clicks his fingers and the Avox fills his glass with another auburn coloured liquid.
"They won't kill her before the games. That would be pointless." Peeta offers. His comment strikes a nerve.
"The felyas right, they will just make 'er life hell in the games," Haymitch splutters.
"Stop talking about me like I'm not even here!" I yell and the light flickers momentarily. I look up and see a crack in the glass globe surrounding it. I quickly avert my eyes hoping no one else takes notice.
Haymitch begins to laugh uncontrollably. Everyone glares at him but he doesn't take notice. Peeta places his hand on my shoulder comfortingly but I shake it off. I'm not in the mood to be comforted by the likes of Peeta. I'm worried that what they're saying is actually true. That I am going to die.
But the worry is subsided by my anger at Haymitch and his hysteria. Is my soon to be ceased life that amusing?
"Haymitch Abernathy, manners!" Effie squeaks.
"I'm sorry," he begins before another wave of hysteria takes over. "I just... their faces... their faces when you shot at them!"
"They were cowering behind their chairs. I didn't even see their faces." I say blandly. Haymitch nearly falls backwards in is chair as he laughs and splutters rather unattractively. I can't help but smirk and notice others around the table trying to conceal smiles. Everyone but Effie of course.
"I just have one question, if I may?" Peeta asks. "You were blindfolded, how could you be certain that you wouldn't hit them?" It was easy. I just knew. But I don't want to raise any suspicion, so I think on my feet.
"I could see through the blindfold obviously. I'm not stupid enough to secure my death before the games have even started." I say glaring at Portia.
After dinner it's time for the announcements of our training scores. I sit rigidly on the end of the couch, ready to run into my room as soon as my result is revealed. With all the uncertainty of my fate, I'm too distressed be around people at the moment. Peeta sits on the other side of the couch between Portia and Cinna. Effie is perched on a stool and Haymitch slouches on the ground between the couch and the coffee table with his feet up. He's a slob. But I can't help but think of uncle Beau when I look at him.
Everything around here makes me think of home. Every meal we have reminds me of what little my uncle and Gale's family has to eat. Every hot shower I take reminds me of what the Seam is deprived of. Every night I sleep in my comfortable capitol bed reminds me of the hard makeshift death beds those in the outer districts spend every night on 'til their last.
The announcements begin and I'm flooded with nerves. What if they give me the lowest score? I'll become an obvious target and I'll stand no chance. The first set of high scores for the careers reinforce my concerns. But I find confidence in the lower scores of the weaker tributes. Finally it's time for District 12. With deliberate suspense, Caesar reads out Peeta's score of eight. I look over at him. He has a blank look on his face. Cinna pats him on the back and Portia gives him a cheerful hug. He allows himself to smile for a fleeting moment before staring back at the television. Eight is a perfect score for him. Not too low that the other tributes would see him as a target. But not too high enough to be considered a threat.
Now it's my turn. I hold my breath until an eleven appears on the screen. I let out a choked gasp. Effie is the first to congratulate me with a fluttery clap and squeal. Cinna approaches me and gives me a hug. But I don't return it. I don't know how to feel. An eleven? They've made me look like a threat. The careers will have it in for me now.
"Well done girl on fire," Cinna says sincerely, "Your temper works for you." He lets me go and Haymitch waves me over to his spot on the floor. I sit down next to him and he puts his heavy arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer.
"Look. What you did was really stupid. But I think I can spin this to your advantage." His breath makes my eyes water. Or maybe it's just my utter shock about to break through. "Now, I will sober up and do my best to coach you and get you the sponsorship you need." He releases me from his grip and climbs up on the couch. I make a break for my room. I can't keep the tears back anymore.
I get a decent sleep that night. I cried until it exhausted me and I fell into a peaceful dream where I was running through the woods back home. I was perfectly happy until Effie's shrill voice awoke me to a harsh reality. I might never see those woods again.
I walk into the dining area for breakfast. Haymitch sits at the head of the table wearing a tie. His hair is neatly combed and although he still has dark bags under his eyes, it's clear that he has sobered up. I take a seat next to him, across from Effie. I wonder why Peeta isn't here yet. Effie wouldn't let him sleep in.
"Now, Peeta has asked to be coached separately. So Effie and I will spend half the day training each of you for the interview." Haymitch says with his mouth full of food.
Betrayal? That's how I feel. But we were never allies in the first place. It might be a good thing. We can stop pretending to be friends in public. I can focus on myself. Peeta must feel threatened by me. I suspect it's to do with my outcompeting him with the training scores. This is his way of declaring that we're enemies now. But will this make it harder for me to keep my promise to uncle Beau? That I wouldn't be the one to kill Peeta. If he attacks me I'll have to do it. No matter what.
Thank you guys for the reviews! Especially the guest reviewer/s(?)