In the woods waits the only person who really knows me. Gale. I can feel the my face relaxing into a smile, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place; a rock ledge overlooking a valley. A thicket of berry bushes protects it from unwanted eyes.
"Hey, Catnip," says Gale. My real name is Katniss, but when I first told him, thought I'd said Catnip. The nickname stuck.
"Look what I shot," Gale holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it, and I laugh. I take it in my hands, pull out the arrow, and hold it my nose, inhaling the fragrance that makes my mouth water.
"Prim left us cheese." I pull it out. His expression brightens at the treat.
"Thank you, Prim." Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the Selection. "I almost forgot! Happy Selection Day!" He picks a few blackberries from the bushes around us. "And may the odds - " He tosses a berry in a high arc toward me. I catch it in my mouth.
" - be ever in your favor!" I finish with equal verve. We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared. Besides, the Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it.
I watch as Gale pulls out his knife and slices the bread. He could be my brother. Straight black hair, olive skin, we even have the same gray eyes. But we're not related, at least not closely. Most of the families who work the mines resemble one another this way. That's why my mother and Prim, with their light hair and blue eyes, always look out of place.
"We could do it, you know" I say gauging his silence as we eat our bread and cheese.
"What?" Gale asks.
"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," I say, locking eyes with him. "I know it sounds crazy." Gale shakes his head. I grasp his hand "But we could try"
"If we didn't have so many kids, I would consider it" he says.
They're not our kids, of course. But they might as well be. Gale's two little brothers and a sister. And even though we are the same age, Prim. She wouldn't last a day out here in the woods. And you may as well throw in our mothers, too, because how would they live without us?
"But we do." He says, sternly, almost scolding. The conversation feels all wrong. How could he not want to leave here? I know Gale is devoted to his family. And I know, realistically, we can't leave. But why can't we talk about it? Why can't we pretend, if only for a moment that we have a choice? I was so sure Gale would be selected for the boys. He is handsome, and built but now he is too old. And I think he's glad for it. I can see in his eyes, that he would rather die than run away from here. I will have to go alone. Tonight. After Prim is selected, there will be nothing left for me here anyway.
"Fine," I say. "I'll drop it."
We spend the rest of the morning in silence. We make out well. We have a dozen fish, a bag of greens and, best of all, a gallon of strawberries to trade at the Hob. When we finally leave the market, Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple of loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt, paraffin, and a bit of money for each. I look up to find him watching me.
"See you in the square?" I finally say.
"So, you're not running yet then?" He knows me too well.
"Not yet."