VII

The word rings in my head. It feels foreign, dangerous.
"Tomorrow morning is the first training session. Meet me for breakfast and I'll tell you exactly how I want you to play it," Haymitch continues. "Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk."
Katniss and I walk down the hallway to our respective rooms in silence. I sidestep her and lean against the doorjamb – not an aggressive manoeuvre, but not easily brushed past either.
"So, Delly Cartwright," I say, crossing my arms. "Imagine finding her lookalike here."
Emotion flickers across her face; she looks conflicted. For her to have recognized a person who ended up an Avox, I realize that this is not something to be taken lightly. She stares off down the hallway, frozen by an inability to decide whether or not to trust me.
"Have you been on the roof yet?" I ask, and she shakes her head. "Cinna showed me. You can practically see the whole city. The wind's a bit loud though."
"Can we just go up?" she asks, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
"Sure, come on," I reply, starting off down the hallway past our rooms. The city seems to have transformed in the twilight; the lights are spectacular. I have to remind myself that there is no shortage of electricity here in the Capitol; District 12 is lucky to get a few hours of electricity a day, though there are often stretches where there is no electrical service at all. At night, the Capitol is lit up as far as the eye can see. It's hauntingly beautiful.
Katniss and I wander over to the railing where Cinna and I stood just a few hours ago. The wind has died down a bit from this afternoon, down from a gale to a breeze. Katniss is quiet, taking in the sights. It's obvious she's not going to start up conversation, so I break the silence. "I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the Tributes might decide to jump right off the side?"
She looks at me. "What'd he say?"
"You can't," I demonstrate what Cinna showed me earlier today. I was expecting the zap, but was not prepared for how decidedly odd the sensation would be. The current seems to kick in my chest, and my fingers are left tingling. I wouldn't want to be hit full-force with the barrier; but they would throw you in the arena no matter what shape you were in. "Some kind of electric field throws you back on the roof."
"Always worried about our safety," Katniss snorts in derision, echoing my thoughts from earlier. She glances around nervously. "Do you think they're watching us now?"
"Maybe. Come see the garden," I say and start making my way over to it, sensing Katniss right beside me. I briefly wonder why there is a garden atop the roof of a building that's dedicated to brutality. Who cares for such a thing? Though there doesn't seem to be a shortage of traitorous Avox at the Capitol's disposal. It is well kept, a small area of life amongst so many tonnes of concrete and stone. The wind plays gently with the chimes strung up around the flowers; it's all I can do to not rip the stupid things from where they're hanging, but I have to admit they are offering further cover for our conversation.
"We were hunting in the woods one day," Katniss starts, voice low as she studies a flower. "Waiting for game."
I can't help it, I ask though I'm sure I know the answer, "You and your father?"
"No, my friend Gale. Suddenly all the birds stopped singing at once. Except one. As if it were giving a warning call. And then we saw her," her voice takes on a haunted quality, she stares but her eyes are unseeing. "I'm sure it was the same girl. A boy was with her. Their clothes were tattered. They had dark circles under their eyes from no sleep. They were running as if their lives depended on it."
She's silent for a long time, lost in memory. I know better than to interrupt as she works through her recollection.
"The hovercraft appeared out of nowhere," she continues. "I mean, one moment the sky was empty and the next it was there. It didn't make a sound, but they saw it. A net dropped down on the girl and carried her up, fast, so fast like the elevator. They shot some sort of spear through the boy. It was attached to a cable and they hauled him up as well. But I'm certain he was dead. We heard the girl scream once. The boy's name, I think. Then it was gone, the hovercraft . Vanished into thin air. And the birds began to sing again, as if nothing had happened."
"Did they see you?" I ask. The way that the girl stared back at Katniss, I know the answer.
"I don't know. We were under a shelf of rock," she lies easily. I have to check myself; we are not friends, she still views me as her enemy. One moment of truth does not negate the fact that she has no idea how I feel, no idea that she doesn't have to worry about me.
"You're shivering," I say, taking my jacket off and wrapping it around her slight yet muscular frame. In this moment, she seems so small and innocent, a victim of circumstance. I feel her freeze, uncertain at the display of kindness. Instead of stepping back though, the corners of her mouth turn up into the ghost of a smile. I do up the buttons for her, knowing that this instant will be over too all too quickly. It's all I can do to not take her in my arms. My fingers linger on the last button at her neck before I drop them to my sides. "They were from here?" I ask, my voice soft. She nods in reply. "Where do you suppose they were going?" It's a rhetorical question really, I don't expect that she knows, but I'm not going to let her fall back into the silence that seems so comfortable for her.
"I don't know that. Or why they would leave here," she says.
I look around. We're surrounded by unyielding stone. I imagine what it must be like to live here, and realize that I wouldn't give up what I know to live in what seems so perfect at first glance. I'm reminded of a rose – beautiful, but with sharp thorns that you're not aware of until it matters. I think of the Avox, of the people I've seen that feel compelled to keep on top of the latest fashions, mutilating their bodies. They're not exactly free, either, I realize. Their restraints are just dyed and bejeweled.
"I'd leave here," I hear myself say. Too loud. Way too loud. I look around, expecting to see Capitol Peacekeepers appear out of thin air to drag me away and cut out my tongue. I laugh nervously, trying to cover my blunder. "I'd go home now if the let me. But you have to admit, the food's prime." She looks at me as if I'm crazy. "It's getting chilly, we better go in," I suggest.
It's considerably warmer inside, and all of a sudden the lights seem much too bright. She's been quiet since my blunder, so I decide to probe a bit before calling it a night. "Your friend Gale," I start, as if linking back to our conversation. "He's the one who took your sister away at the Reaping?"
"Yes," she replies, looking a little surprised at the question. Her tone is a bit defensive. "Do you know him?"
"Not really. I hear the girls talk about him a lot. I thought he was your cousin or something," I venture, hoping for a reaction to guage. I know very well that they are not cousins, but I want to figure out just what he means to her. While I know she means a great deal to him, he has never made it obvious to her, and he's played with other girls' emotions a time or two. A bit of colour works its way into her cheeks, betraying her. My heart sinks ever so slightly. "You favor each other," I say trying to keep the hint of bitterness from my voice. I have no right to be bitter, I realize, but it's hard to admit.
"No, we're not related."
I nod, keeping my face blank. Over the years, I've become quite good at doing that. "Did he come to say goodbye to you?" I don't know exactly why I'm digging, but I can't stop.
"Yes," she replies carefully. I can almost see her hackles come up. "So did your father. He brought me cookies."
I didn't expect that. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, and reply equally carefully back to her. Her demeanour has turned evasive, she's trying to throw me. "Really? Well, he likes you and your sister. I think he wishes he had a daughter instead of a houseful of boys." She seems to start at that, and I throw her something else to consider. "He knew your mother when they were kids."
She looks very surprised at that, and I can almost see her battling herself whether or not I've told her the truth.
"Oh, yes," she says. "She grew up in town."
We've made our way back to the rooms, stopping in front of her door. She deftly plucks off the coat and hands it back to me, though I wasn't going to ask for it back. It isn't really my coat, after all. "See you in the morning then," she says, and pauses at the door.
I look at her for the briefest of instants, and all of a sudden I'm very tired and weary. This game we're playing, it doesn't need to be so. I wish so badly that I could just tell her what I want to do, that she stands a chance of coming home, to be with Gale, as much as that hurts me. She's still standing there, looking perplexed. I turn on my heel and walk away from her, bidding her a good night over my shoulder.
My room has been tidied since I left it, my clothes from home are nowhere to be seen and it makes me irrationally mad. The one thing I have here from home thinks that I'm going to kill her, when the opposite is true. Nothing here is mine, though Effie would try to have me think differently. The clothes are not mine, the artwork around the room is not mine, and even if I were rich, I wouldn't surround myself with such gaudiness. I slam the heel of my hand into the doorframe, furious. I stand there for a moment, sucking in air, the warmth and cloying smells of this foreign place threaten to choke me. I move to the door, not quite sure of my plan, when I hear voices down the hallway. It's Haymitch and Cinna, though I can't hear what they're talking about. Haymitch bursts out laughing and they ostensibly part ways. I hear Haymitch pad down the hall and past my door, so I fall into pace behind him.
"What do you want?" he says, stopping abruptly. He turns to face me. There's an edge to his voice but I don't think I'm in any danger of getting knocked out this time.
"To party with my old friend?" I spit. "What do you think? I want to talk to you."
He crosses his arms. "So talk." I glance down the hallway, towards her room. He catches my move and almost imperceptibly rolls his eyes. "Come on, then," he says, ushering me inside his chamber.
He obviously hasn't spent much time in here, or the Avox have recently cleaned up. There's a bureau along one wall that has a rainbow assortment of liquors, but the room itself is spotless. For now, at least. We regard each other uncomfortably. He grabs a bottle of something green and fills a tumbler while I perch on the arm of an ornate couch.
"Cinna mentioned you might talk to me," he says, taking a drag from the glass. "What is it?"
I can't think of a better lead-off, and I'm too weary to try for anything fancy or eloquent. I decide to just say what I did before. "District 12 will have a winner this year," I start. He looks ready to burst out laughing, and I can feel myself turning red. I'm tempted to duck my head, but instead I force myself to keep his gaze. "Her."
His expression changes from mocking to sober in an instant. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and says almost in disbelief, "I thought I'd dreamt that."
A wave of relief washes over me, that he remembers, at least in part. "She stands a real chance of winning, if we play it right. She's a fighter, Haymitch, she'll do whatever it takes to get back home to her family."
He turns his head up, his bloodshot eyes catch mine. "You're prepared to die to make that happen?"
I'm furious. Furious that I have to tell this drunkard again of my plans, furious at my situation, furious at our situation. I act before I can even think about what I'm doing; I'm on my feet, grabbing Haymitch by the throat, the muscles in my forearm taught as rope under my skin. I slam him against the wall. "I'd lay down my life for her," I hiss. I let him go, and stalk to the door. I turn back to him and give him a cool once-over. "My cards are all on the table. Get. Her. Home." I slam the door behind me, leaving a bewildered Haymitch alone, certain I've made an impression.