CHAPTER 43

"Staff!" a female voice yells before walking into the room. Flora trots in authoritatively. Something's obviously on her mind.

I sit up from my reclined position in bed. I don't do much nowadays…I just mostly sleep or lie in bed and methodically roll the pearl Peeta gave me so long ago between my fingers, paying careful attention to its smoothness. It's ridiculous but sometimes when I gaze at it, I just have this overwhelming feeling like…like I just have to crush it in between my fingers. I press down on it and try but it usually just jumps from between my fingers and rolls onto the floor. It doesn't stop me from doing the exact same thing the next day, though.

"Yes?" I ask, already knowing what the complaint will be.

"You have been here two—has it been two now?— nearly two weeks. You have not attended any groups since the second day. Is there a problem?"

Yeah, there's a problem. That day, there was a new admit from, oh, I don't know. District 2 maybe. She kept staring at me all day. She kept staring at me in group that day, too. Finally, I turned and looked her straight in the eye while the social worker was talking so that she would know that, yes, I noticed her staring. This set her off.

"Slut! You rebel slut!" she yelled at me accusingly. Everyone stared between the two of us, surprised that the exchange was occurring. I want to emphasize, though, that they were surprised. Not shocked. No one is shocked by anything here…not anymore.

"Please sit down, Marcia or you will be asked to leave group," the social worker calmly reminded her.

"You think we don't know who you are? Katniss. Fucking. Everdeen. Yeahhhh. You're a dirty outer district coal slut who thinks she's better than the loyal districts. You think you're so smart—you think—"

"Marcia, I have to ask you to leave. This is your warning and if you continue, you lose privileges."

The woman named Marcia stared at the caseworker defiantly. I didn't bother to stay for the showdown. I was uninterested in the exchange, uninterested in the topic of group, and didn't care to stick around to see if anybody else became wise to my identity and my involvement in the outside world.

But instead, I look up at Flora, shrug my shoulders nonchalantly and tell her, "No," even though I'm a hundred percent positive that the social workers sit in their offices laughing about the crazy things we all do in between sips of their herbal tisanes.

"You need to start attending, Katniss, or we will have to send someone to one on one you," Flora says sternly. She tries so hard and I truly like Flora…it's just that her sternness is really undermined by the putty-like appearance of her round face.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Someone has to sit with you all day and strongly recommend you attend activities," she says.

Well, they've got me there. There are few things as unpleasant as having someone babysit you all day and escort you to the bathroom or shower or wherever else you happen to go in your day.

"Fine," I relent. "I'll go."

"We hate to make it feel like a punishment, Katniss—can I call you Kat?"

"Umm—" I begin, but Flora continues.

"But these activities are meant to be part of your treatment in conjunction with your weekly sessions with Dr. Aurelius and your medication. It's imperitive that you go and a requirement for your release. If there is—" she is interrupted by another small knock at the door.

"Um, sorry to interrupt," the voice calls. It's one of the aides here. "Miss Everdeen has a visitor."

"Oh, lovely!" Flora says, a bit too cheerfully. "Yes, send the visitor to the sitting room down the hall." She then turns to me. "It will have to be supervised, of course."

Supervised? Well, good, since I have no idea who might be even visiting me. If it's my mother, I'll be glad to have a mediator that can tell her that her presence is detrimental to my treatment.

Flora leads me down the hall to a small room with a large occasional table and a multitude of vinyl overstuffed chairs. As we enter the room, I turn my head to find Haymitch sitting in the corner chair.

"Sweetheart!" he says, a little too warmly and gives me a large, sarcastic hug.

"Hi, Haymitch," is all I can think of to say in reply.

"Long time no see," he pats the top of my head like a small child and turn his regard to Flora. "Could we have some time to talk?"

"Of course," she says. Then she doesn't move. After a few awkward moments, Haymitch clarifies.

"I mean…just me and the girl," he says with an annoyed chuckle.

"Oh! Well, it has to be supervised so uh…well, we have to know there will be no illicit substances exchanged and that you and the patient are both safe from bodily harm."

"Of course, of course," Haymitch says, probably the kindest I've heard him. "But you have cameras for the room, yeah? Just give us a minute to talk. It's a little…well, awkward with a third person just staring. You know what they say…three's a crowd!" He nudges Flora with her elbow in a friendly, amicable way. "Plus, lovely Capitol women distract me." Flora giggles and protests here. "I just need to talk to my girl, Katniss."

Flora considers it. "Well, for you, Mr. Abernathy," she nudges him back with her elbow playfully and I realize just how charming Haymitch can be if he wants to. He's always been a persuasive one and it served him well in old Capitol society, I see. The young and handsome wild thing from District 12 hasn't left the imaginations of Capitol women of a certain age.

Flora exits the room and shuts the door behind her.

"You sicken me," I tell him. Half jest, half true.

"Well, now, are you sure those aren't just some residual hormones making their way out of your system? Ohhhh, sweetheart, I know you know I heard about that. I hear about everything."

I sigh and take a seat. I feel that this entire visit is going to be a lecture from Haymitch about how terrible I am as a human being and as an example for other human beings.

"Why do you have to be so self-destructive, Katniss? Why do you do this?"

"Why do I do this? And you're one to talk about self-destructive! My first mistake was ever trusting you, Haymitch. I thought we had moved past being your pawns in whatever it is you're playing. I thought Peeta and I were…were your…" I struggle to find the words.

"My what? My kids?" he asks jokingly. And then I stop and consider this a moment and I realize something. I look up at Haymitch and put my hands on my hips.

"Well…yeah!" I say, both angry and surprised. Haymitch's face does this weird transformation from mirthful to quizzical to sorrowful and then just—blank: the usual Haymitch pokerface.

Haymitch sinks down into a firmer chair and hides his face in his hands for about a minute.

"Katniss, you wanna know why I did it? It wasn't just for the money. We aren't quite broke yet. I wanted you to stay beloved. I didn't want people to forget what you stood for and what you and Peeta fought for. I didn't want things to go back to the same old ugly class wars and to the same political games. You saw where that was headed with Coin. You and Peeta united people. You both just have this thing. I don't know what it is. But you give people something to strive for. Everyone is struggling to rebuild now and…well, we were, too. We still are. I just thought everyone needed to know they weren't alone and that their shining, beautiful Mockingjay was having the same growing pains, too." He smooths my hair away from my face and rests his forefinger under my chin. "Stop resisting it. You can't get the past back with Gale, sweetheart. Or Peeta. Or anyone. You kissed it goodbye forever when you volunteered. Just look forward."

I do. I look forward into Haymitch's eyes and try to find the lie. He seems genuine enough.

"I didn't want to be with Gale, Haymitch. I didn't run away to be with him…maybe with the past, yeah. But I never…he was very possessive, I think. He wanted me pregnant so that I would stay. You have to believe me," I say.

"I do, I do," he says reassuringly. "I can't tell you why right now…maybe when you're better. Just know that I believe you."

"I have to tell you why I… why what happened…with him," I struggle for the words and look up at the camera sitting in the corner of the room. I know Flora or someone is watching and listening to our every word. "Let's get out of here and get something to eat. I'll tell you then."

Haymitch shakes his head. "They told me I can't take you out. You don't have enough points." I feel my face grow hot with anger. "You have to go to groups, Katniss. You need to take time for yourself to get better. Stop running from yourself. I did it for too long and I don't want that for you and I don't want that for Peeta."

Peeta.

"Peeta said you haven't visited him at all," I tell him. "You should go see him and Johanna."

"I can't. I just came to see you," he says. "But it's time for me to be going." Haymitch pats my shoulder reassuringly. "See ya later, sweetheart."

I follow him toward the lobby. Suddenly, there is Peeta sitting in a lobby chair looking less than pleased.

"I knew I heard your voice," Peeta said. He looks over at me. "Her," he whispers. "You visit her and not me or Johanna? We've been here nearly two months now and Katniss is admitted and you hop on the next train to make it out here?" Peeta laughs and brushes a stray golden curl away from his forehead. "I knew it. Katniss was always your favorite. Johanna's had so many surgeries—risky surgeries—and you couldn't make it out here for her?"

"Stop," Haymitch says firmly. "Just stop. I know perfectly well about the surgeries. I don't agree with it at all but she's doing it and the doctors have told me that I cannot be around during the treatment and healing process. I cannot visit her."

"You aren't the person I thought you were, Haymitch," Peeta says softly but evenly. "I'm really disappointed."

"Peeta, I know you're really concerned about Johanna but you have to understand—" Haymitch tries to calm Peeta but he just shakes his head to will the words away. "Peeta, there's a lot you don't understand."

And then Peeta looks at me and then glares at Haymitch. "You're right. I don't understand anything, Haymitch. I really don't anymore."

Haymitch ignores the two of us, signs himself out, and is buzzed through the secure double doors. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look back.