Chapter Fifty Six: Surprise

When we fall asleep that night I find myself wishing we could spend more days like this. But I know that's not possible. We have Prim and Annie to take care of. We have a Capitol to please. I roll my eyes. I sleep soundly through the night even though all we've done is lounge around all day long.

Waking up in the morning, I see it's still early. I'm still tired. I feel embarrassed about spending the day in bed with my husband the day before. My cheeks color at the thought of Prim, Annie, and my mother knowing we were upstairs alone all day yesterday. Instead of going back to sleep I decide to get up. As soon as I sit up I feel dizzy. I pause for a moment to try to clear it away and then I rush to the bathroom. I make it just in time before I throw up.

I hardly ever get sick. But something is definitely making me sick today. Once I can't throw up anymore, I sit back against the wall and put my head between my knees.

"Kat?" I hear Finnick call from bed.

I don't respond, and he is quickly sitting next to me in the bathroom, "Katniss? Are you okay?" he asks concerned.

I nod, "I just, felt sick." I say looking at him.

Taking a few deep breaths I start to feel better. "How do you feel now?" he asks.

"I think I'm okay." I say. The dizziness seems to have passed.

"Well, let's get you up off the floor then." he says pulling me to my feet.

We both get dressed and I brush my teeth. We start to head down stairs for breakfast, even though I don't want to risk eating anything. When we get to the bottom of the stairs, there is a knock at the door. That's odd. We aren't expecting anyone. Peeta and Haymitch don't knock, they just come in.

Finnick opens the door to find my prep team.

Venia, Octavia, and Flavius almost swoon at seeing Finnick.

"Surprise!" they finally manage to squeal. "We're here early!"

After I took that lash in the face, Haymitch got their visit pushed back several months so I could heal up. I wasn't expecting them for another three weeks. But I try to act delighted that my bridal photo shoot is here at last. My mother hung up all the dresses, so they're ready to go, but to be honest, I haven't even tried one on.
The only dress I have put on was my real wedding dress.

I'm quickly whisked up to my room to get ready. Finnick gives me a concerned smile.

After the usual histrionics about the deteriorated state of my beauty, they get right down to business. Their biggest concern is my scars, although I think my mother did a pretty remarkable job healing it. There's just a pale pink strip across my cheekbone and on my forehead into my hair line. The ones on my chest are visible in almost all the dresses as well. Everyone in the districts saw the whipping, but it's not common knowledge in the Capitol, so I tell them I slipped on the ice. But Flavius, Octavia, and Venia aren't the suspicious types, so I'm safe there.

Since I only have to look hairless for a few hours instead of several weeks, I get to be shaved instead of waxed. I still have to soak in a tub of something, but it isn't vile, and we're on to my hair and makeup before I know it. The team, as usual, is full of news, which I usually do my best to tune out. But then Octavia makes a comment that catches my attention. It's a passing remark, really, about how she couldn't get shrimp for a party, but it tugs at me.

"Why couldn't you get shrimp? Is it out of season?" I ask.

"Oh, Katniss, we haven't been able to get any seafood for weeks!" says Octavia. "You know, because the weather's been so bad in District Four."

My mind starts buzzing. No seafood. For weeks. From District 4. I remember seeing the burning docks and fighting the peacekeepers. District Four is still fighting.

I begin to question them casually about what other hardships this winter has brought them. They are not used to want, so any little disruption in supply makes an impact on them. By the time I'm ready to be dressed, their complaints about the difficulty of getting different products — from crab meat to music chips to ribbons — has given me a sense of which districts might actually be rebelling. Seafood from District 4. Electronic gadgets from District 3. And, of course, fabrics from District 8. The thought of such widespread rebellion has me quivering with fear and excitement.

I want to ask them more, but Cinna appears to give me a hug and checks my makeup. His attention goes right to my scars. Somehow I don't think he believes the slipping-on-the-ice story, but he doesn't question it. He simply adjusts the powder on my face, and what little you can see of the lash mark vanishes. Then he applies something on my chest and those scars vanish as well.

Downstairs, the living room has been cleared and lit for the photo shoot. Effie's having a fine time ordering everybody around, keeping us all on schedule. It's probably a good thing, because there are six gowns and each one requires its own headpiece, shoes, jewelry, hair, makeup, setting, and lighting. Creamy lace and pink roses and ringlets. Ivory satin and gold tattoos and greenery. A sheath of diamonds and jeweled veil and moonlight. Heavy white silk and sleeves that fall from my wrist to the floor, and pearls. The moment one shot has been approved, we move right into preparing for the next. I feel like dough, being kneaded and reshaped again and again. My mother manages to feed me bits of food and sips of tea while they work on me, but by the time the shoot is over, I'm starving and exhausted. I'm hoping to spend some time with Cinna now, I want to tell him about the wedding and thank him for the dress but Effie whisks everybody out the door and I have to make do with the promise of a phone call.

Its not that I don't like the wedding dresses. They are all very pretty but very lavish and big. Which is not me at all. The dress I wore on my actual wedding wouldn't do for the Capitol. How ironic that I am already married when doing this photo shoot.

I go upstairs and wash away the layers of makeup and conditioners and dyes and then go down to dry my hair by the fire. When I come back down the stairs Finnick looks at me and smiles, "Ah back to the Katniss I know and love." he says jokingly. I roll my eyes at him.

Prim and Annie, who came home from school in time to see the last two dresses, chatter on about them with my mother. They all seem overly happy about the photo shoot. I realize it's because they think it means I'm safe. That the Capitol has overlooked my interference with the whipping since no one is going to go to such trouble and expense for someone they plan on killing, anyway. Right.

The next thing I know I'm being lifted. I crack open my eyes to see Finnick. I must have fallen asleep in the living room.

In my nightmare, I'm dressed in the silk bridal gown, but it's torn and muddy. The long sleeves keep getting caught on thorns and branches as I run through the woods. The pack of mutation tributes draws closer and closer until it overcomes me with hot breath and dripping fangs and I scream myself awake.

I wake up Finnick too, he rolls over on his side facing me, "It was just a dream, love," he strokes my face, "I'm right here."

I nod, "I know. I'm glad your here though." my voice is a little hoarse from my scream.

"No where else I'd rather be," he winks at me, "Let me get you some water."

He exits the room and I hear his feet on the stairs. I sit up and feel dizzy again. I'm about to lay back down, but again I'm rushing to the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up.

I manage to get back in bed before Finnick comes in with a glass of water. The water helps me feel better. For some reason, I don't want him to know about me being sick again.


I eat breakfast with my mother, Prim, Annie, and Finnick like always.

I feel the need for fresh air. Maybe that's why I've been sleeping so much:I haven't gotten outside enough. Finnick agrees to come on a walk with me. The air's warm with hopeful hints of spring in it. Spring would be a good time for an uprising, I think. Everyone feels less vulnerable once winter passes.

We walk by Peeta's house but he's not home. I guess he's already gone into town. We stop by Haymitch's and I'm surprised to see Haymitch moving around his kitchen so early, though. We walk into his house without knocking. I can hear Hazelle upstairs, sweeping the floors of the now-spotless house. Haymitch isn't flat-out drunk, but he doesn't look too steady, either. I guess the rumors about Ripper being back in business are true. I'm thinking maybe we better let him just go to bed, when he suggests a walk to town.

Haymitch and I can speak in a kind of shorthand now. In a few minutes I've updated both Haymitch and Finnick on what I've learned from my prep team. Haymitch tells us about rumors of uprisings in Districts 7 and 11 as well. If my hunches are right, this would mean almost half the districts have at least attempted to rebel.

"Do you still think it won't work here?" I ask.

"Not yet. Those other districts, they're much larger. Even if half the people cower in their homes, the rebels stand a chance. Here in Twelve, it's got to be all of us or nothing," he says.

I hadn't thought of that. How we lack strength of numbers. "But maybe at some point?" I insist.

"Maybe. But we're small, we're weak, and we don't develop nuclear weapons," says Haymitch with a touch of sarcasm.

"Nuclear weapons?" I ask Haymitch.

Finnick nudges Haymitch and Haymitch backtracks, "Just be nice if we developed something that would help us win. Like if we developed nuclear weapons."

I know they are hiding something from me, and I plan on getting it out of Finnick later. For now, I ask, "What do you think they'll do, Haymitch? To the districts that are rebelling?"

"Well, you've heard what they did in Eight. You've seen District Four in the middle of it. You've seen what they did here, and that was without provocation," says Haymitch. "If things really do get out of hand, I think they'd have no problem killing off another district, same as they did Thirteen. Make an example of it, you know?"

"Then create another torturous reminder like the hunger games," Finnick says rolling his eyes.

Finnick says he is going to go to the General store. He's surprised when I tell him I'll meet up with him in a few minutes and we can walk home together, instead of going with him. He looks concerned but he lets me go.

I walk along the shops in town and end up at the clinic. It's just a small place in town with a medic. Most people in Twelve can't afford to come here and they usually go see my mother.

"Good afternoon, Katniss." Mrs. Parks days when she sees me. "Come to get the supplies for your mother? They came in just yesterday."

She gathers them up into a bag and hands it out to me. I take it but still hesitate. There is another reason why I am here even if I can't admit it to myself. She must sense it because she asks, "Is something wrong Katniss?"

"I don't know." I answer honestly, but I can't bring myself to say anymore. I know Mrs. Parks won't say anything to anyone else, but some reason I can't even manage to say it out loud. Finally I say, "I've been tired a lot lately and I've been getting sick..." She must sense there is more I'm not telling her.

"Come on," she says walking in the back. She walks me into a patient room and she shuffles around on a shelf. Finding what she is looking for she comes over to me. I see the metal tube. She has me put my finger inside. I feel the familiar poke where it takes a bit of blood. I close my eyes tight not wanting to see the results. She puts the reader into my hands.

Finally I open them and read: POSITIVE: SIX WEEKS