Chapter 9
Only after I tell Blight and Johanna about my stunt with the arrow, I realize just how badly I screwed up. Blight stares at me for a full minute, unblinking, before he throws a vase at a wall and yells at me for twenty minutes, while Johanna sneaks in praises and congratulations me, all with a scary grin on her face.
"How could you!" Blight screams, "You just ruined your chance of survival and probably his while you were at it," he points towards Rilien, whose trying to blend in with the numerous sofa cushions.
"Relax, Blight. Now Katniss, I need you to tell me what you did after you shot the arrow," Johanna orders.
"I took a bow and left," I say, waiting for her eminent yelling.
Instead, she just looks impressed, "A bow, that's perfect."
"Why are you proud?" Blight screams at Johanna, "Katniss just killed herself and you're praising her!"
"Or, she just gave herself probably hundred of new sponsors," Johanna counters.
"It's airing," Rilien intrurupts. Immediately, all the eyes turn to the television. Within ten seconds, all of us were sitting around the screen as Caesar Flickerman announces the scores. The careers all get nines and tens, the foxfaced girl earns a five, and Rilien gets an eight. He lets out a relieved sigh.
"Good job Rilien!" Aiola cheers in her pesky perky voice.
"That will definitely get you sponsors," Blight says, happily, until my name was announces.
Immediately, he sombers, shoots me an almost mourning glance as Caesar looks at the paper in his hand.
"Katniss Everdeen, District Seven is an," Caesar Flickerman pauses for a minute, surprised. I got a 0. The only person in Hunger Games history to score a 0. Even the guy that managed to burn down the entire floor got a 1. I'm screwed.
"An eleven!" He announces, before moving on to the next person.
I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. As Johanna starts laughing and Blight was smiling like there was no tomorrow.
"Good job," Rilien tells me. I feel like I should hear the hiss of cold that I hear whenever he talks to me, but I don't.
"You too," I respond.
"An eleven!" Blight screams, "Eleven!" I'm not sure even he can properly believe it.
They manage to calm down by the time Peeta's score comes up. He receives an eight, which is pretty high compared to the rest of the tributes. I smile, tributes with higher scores don't tend to get killed too early on in the games. Normally, they're big or skilled enough to escape the initial blood bath, but you can't always count on the scores. Just look at Travier. He scored a eight, but look where that lead him: to an unmarked casket flown in by airplane.
I can still remember the fight to his death. It only lasted twelve seconds. An axe was in hands and suddenly another one was in his stomach. He looked down at the blood seeping through his shirt, collapsed on the ground and died, not even knowing who killed him. I look at Rilien, listening intently to a joke Johanna says. I could see the red blood flooding out of his shirt and the axe through his stomach. I shake the thoughts out of my head. Peeta and Rilien are no Travier.
"Katniss?" Blight says, "Can I talk to you?"
"Why?" I ask.
"I'll tell you once were somewhere more private," He tells me. I follow him to another room.
"This thing you have with the boy from Twelve, it has to stop," He orders.
How did he know? He hadn't seen us together. As far as he knows, Peeta and I haven't talked since the first day of training. The only person who knows is Rilien. The red headed rat!
"I'm going to kill him!" I say, angrily.
"Peeta?" He asks, a bit hopefully.
I shoot him a angry look, "Rilien. He was the one who spilled, wasn't he?"
Blight purses his lips together, but gives a slight nod, "Johanna made him."
"Johanna?" I asks. I'm surprised, I thought she didn't care about my life, much less care so much she didn't want me spending time with another tribute.
"Johanna can be very, ah, persuasive," He informs me.
"Well, tell Johanna to keep her nose out of other people's business," I reply, sneering.
I'm about to leave the room, until Blight speaks, "Only one comes out Katniss. It doesn't matter if you're friends, enemies or married. The Capitol controls the outcome and if they see you with Peeta and assume something, who knows what could happen."
Inter district relations never happen. The only people from separate districts who see each other are the victors and the escorts. I've heard of escorts having relationships with victors, but as soon as it hits the papers, the escort is gone and a relative of the victor is reaped. I think of Prim being reaped for the next games without anyone willing to volunteer for her and Mom loosing it again because her entire family is gone. Without looking Blight in the eyes, I leave the room.
Dinner is somber. Everyone can detect my bad mood and the tension between Blight and I. Aiola tries to make conversation, but since no one else feels like talking, she gives up. I excuse myself as soon as I'm done and go up to the roof.
The roof is the same as always, windy and peaceful. The only difference is that this time I'm not alone. Peeta stis on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling off.
"8 isn't a bad score bad," I say, walking towards him, slowly. My plan of what to tell him tonight rings in my head. I feel guiltier and guiltier every step I take.
Peeta turns around, "You got an eleven, Katniss." He grins at me and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for me to sit down. It's now or never, either I tell him, or we let whatever we have go on.
I make up my mind, "Peeta, we have to stop," I blurt out.
Peeta stares at me for a minute, before he tries to make a joke, "Stop what? Breathing? Because one of us probably will in the next week."
"Don't joke about that," I tell him. I'm not in the mood to be reminded that this is one of the last times I'll see him without us being enemies.
Peeta frowns, "Are you okay?"
"We need to stop," I repeat, hoping he'll understand what I'm trying to tell him.
Suspicion fills Peeta's face, "Stop what? I'm not good at solving cryptic messages."
"What ever we have, this friendship," I cry out.
Peeta's face falls, "No."
"It's too dangerous," I insist.
"Why? All everyone knows is that we're just allies," He says.
"Rumours, Peeta! They spread," I yell. How does he not understand this? "I have a family. They're relying on me to survive and I can't risk that by doing this with you!"
"We can pretend, tomorrow when were together before the interviews, we can act like nothing has happened and in the arena, we can ignore each other," He pleads in a rush.
"Only one of us comes out," I remind him, "I can't kill someone I'm friends with. Peeta, please, don't make me have to make that choice, because I need to go back to my family."
"Katniss!" He pleads, but I walk back into the elevator and ride down. It's for the best. It has to be. It's for Prim and Mom and whoever else can be effected by my stupid choices.
I open the apartment door. Johanna's in the living room looking at me, questioningly.
"It's over," I tell her, angrily. I feel like punching her, running her through with a spear or a fucking axe. This entire thing is her fault, she had caught on to Peeta and I, she had forced Rilien to spill and then she had the nerve to make Blight tell me. Instead of breaking off a nearby table leg and stabbing her, I just storm to my room and lock myself in the bathroom.
In the mirror, I look like a wreck. My face is red and I look like I could kill someone without a second thought. I let the forest scented shower water wash over me. I heat the water up, so that I can pretend the reason my face is red isn't because of anger or sadness. I stay there for over an hour, before climbing into my too plush bed and trying to fall asleep. Instead, I stay up for a few more hours, my mind whirling with visions of Peeta dying horrible deaths in the games and it being my fault. I feel guilty, but I shouldn't, because I did this for Prim. And I'd do anything for her, so why do I feel so awful?
So we got some drama mixed in now, always fun. Hope everyone enjoyed!
Also, some shameless self advertising: I also write occasional one shots for the Hunger Games and it would be an honour if you read one.