"Primrose Everdeen," Effie announces, her voice as cheery as ever.

For an instant, I feel relief- it's not Delly, or Madge, or, well, her. But then I recognize the last name. It's her sister.

The crowd is silent as the tiny girl makes her way forward. I hear Katniss start shrieking. "Prim! No! Please! Take me! I volunteer!"

But the Peacekeepers push her back harshly. There can be no volunteers. No protecting of siblings. No saving the skinny twelve year old that makes her way, terrified, to the temporary stage where a strange woman stands.

The Hawthorne boy who I know to be Katniss's friend moves forward and pulls her back, though I can see the pain in his eyes. The grief that he already feels for Primrose.

Effie asks for applause, but instead, the crowd places three fingers to their mouths and then raise their hand- a funeral gesture. A farewell.

Haymitch makes his way to the end of the stage, belches loudly, and promptly falls off the end of it.

On another year, this might have distracted the people of district twelve for a brief moment of amusement like it does the cameras- but not this year. Not when it's sweet little Prim who's been called up. Not when it's Prim, who is only twelve, who has sold small pads of creamy goat cheese to just about everyone in the Seam and even some of the merchants and Peacekeepers. Not when its the sister of the girl who feeds half the black market.

After the commotion, Effie walks over the the boy's bowl and grabs a slip straight from the top, seeming to want this to end quickly. "Peeta Mellark."

I could swear that my hearts stops. My friends standing around me turn and look, their eyes wide, looking both pitying and relieved. I feel my mouth gape open. All the blood drains from my body- figuratively. For now, at least.

I somehow force myself to move forward. The crowd parts for me, all looking at me as though I'm already in my casket. I climb onto the stage and Effie asks for a welcome for me. No one gives me the funeral gesture. No one cares about a merchant boy going to die.

"Shake hands," Effie says cheerily, and a force myself to turn and really look at the tiny little girl that I will be fighting in only a few days. She's very thin, like a twig. Her hand is dwarfed by mine is a way that she doesn't grab it so much as place her palm against mine while I wrap my fingers around it.

We are taken into the justice building and into separate rooms so that our families and friends can say goodbye to us. I don't expect a warm farewell from my family, but maybe a few hugs and "good lucks" from my schoolmates. But just the thought of leaving everyone has my eyes brimming with tears.

I am escorted in by a Peacekeeper, but he leaves the room. I at least get privacy, I suppose.

My parents and brothers walk in first. Miche looks uncomfortable- he may be my brother, but he's seven years older than me and our only real bond comes from working in the bakery at the same time. Rye, similarly, looks uncomfortable- but also sad. We were much closer growing up- only a year apart. We would hold each other while Mother screamed and yelled and threw things. We grew apart the older we got, though- the threat of losing someone in the games tends to force a separation within families.

Dad is the only one who looks truly upset. He pulls me into a hug straight away, and I'm comforted by his warm smell, if only for a moment before mother tuts disappointingly.

"We'll have to find another worker now," she complains to Dad as he lets go of me.

"Kit-" Dad begins but she ignores him.

"It's not like any good will even come out of this!" she snaps. "District Twelve will never get a victor for a tribute, will we?"

I turn my face away as the tears finally spill to my cheeks. To my surprise, Miche speaks. "I think Peeta's got a chance, Mother," he says. "Don't be so harsh."

"Harsh," she scoffs. "He's going off to be slaughtered by another teenager and I'm harsh? He might as well get used to it."

I knew that I wouldn't get used to it. Not when the harshness was coming from the mouth of my mother. No matter how long it went on, the sting never went away. Not with her blows or her words.

But I didn't tell her that. No one said anything after that. I got uncomfortable hugs from Rye and Miche, and one more from my father, and then they left.

I was still crying as the brought Delly and Madge in, though I was nothing compared to the first of the two girls. Delly was in hysterics. It felt odd for me to be the one to comfort her, but it was nice to see that someone cared that much about me.

My friend, Miles, walks in. He's not crying, but I still am.

"This sucks, man," he says simply. "I'm rotting for you."

"Yeah," I say, though I know that he's just glad that this isn't him.

I'm not expecting anyone else. When the door opens again, I think that it's the Peacekeepers coming in to collect me, so I stand, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands, but when I look up, I'm startled and shocked to see another visitor standing in front of me.

It's Katniss.

The door closes and we're both quiet for a moment. My heart's pounding in my chest. She wants to see me! It feels ridiculous to be excited. This will likely be the last time we ever speak- even if it's also the first. She looks very pretty today- she's dressed in her reaping clothes and has her hair in a nicer braid than normal. She doesn't appear that she's been crying, but that's not surprising. She's never been one to show her emotions.

We both stand there for a minute, seemingly unsure of what to say. It's her that speaks first.

"Don't be crying when you get out there," she says, her voice flat.

I almost laugh. Don't cry. I'm walking to my death and I'm not supposed to cry. "Pardon?"

"Don't cry when you get out there," she repeats. "You'll look weak. The Capitol isn't going to be throwing money forward to sponsor a boy who cries when he leaves."

I'm stunned. Why would she possibly be giving me advice? Her sister's also being sent into an arena, and will be fighting for the same sponsors I am. It doesn't add up. Shouldn't you be saving this advice for Primrose?"

"I already told her, but it's not like she'll be able to help it," she says, and I can tell that she's focusing very hard on not looking upset. "Besides, I owe you."

I blink. "From what?"

Katniss looks like she doesn't want to admit it, and I remember why before she says it.

"From when I threw you the bread?" I question, and she nods quickly. "Katniss, we were kids. And you were starving." And I'm in love with you and it was my one chance to show it.

"Well, you still helped me, and I owed you," she snaps. She's quiet for a bit longer. "And I'm going to owe you again, because of what I'm asking."

I don't say anything, because I don't know what I'm supposed to say. Feeding a starving girl shouldn't be kept on a score sheet like Katniss seems to have done, but it is exactly the kind of thing she would do.

Finally she speaks again. "I need you to protect Prim while you're in the arena," she says.

She's asking me to die for Prim. That's not what she's saying, but I know that's what she means.

"You already saved her life once with the bread," Katniss says, her voice turning to something more pleading. "Don't let it be wasted. She's too innocent. She's too kind. She won't survive out there on her own." Her eyes have started to water. "Protect her, Peeta. Please."

I blink. Here's the girl that I've been in love with for eleven years asking me to die for her sister. And the only reason I'm hesitating is because I don't know if I can fulfill the request. I don't know if I could keep her safe on my own- I'm not like Katniss and- I add bitterly- Gale. I can't hunt. I can't fight. But I will try.

"I will," I tell her. "I promise."

And then Katniss does something that surprises me so much that I almost don't believe that it's Katniss anymore. She hugs me. I hardly hesitate though- I wrap my arms around her and squeeze back, and it's the most comforted that I've felt in the whole day.