The knot-tying station doesn't have a lot of tributes, so the trainer is pleased to see us, and even teaches us how to form a good trap, which really benefits me, since I've no other way of hunting. I look around the training center. The archery station has several tributes. I watch and try to stifle a laugh when I see the big, burly district 1 and 2 tributes trying to shoot an arrow. None of them hit the targets, some can't even shoot it correctly. I look to Katniss, but she's paying close attention to her trap. Part of me wants her to go over there and show them how it's done; but I stop myself from mentioning it, probably best if they don't know how good she is.
The camouflage station is my personal favorite. I've decorated, and iced, so many cakes in the bakery, that camouflage is second nature to me. I know which colors work together, and I know which are vibrant hues. I even know which colors seem to "pop" more than others, so camouflage is a benefit to me in the arena. If I can't kill, I can sure as hell hide. Katniss seems to be wondering why the trainer enjoys my precision with this so much, and how I know how to do this. "I do the cakes," I tell her. She asks me then, "What cakes?"
"At home, the iced ones for the bakery." Katniss looks annoyed at me, though I don't really know why. "It's lovely, if only you could frost someone to death." Ouch. Though, it's kind of funny. I decide to give a smartass comment back. "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a giant cake…" I say, until she interrupts me by saying "We should move on." Somehow, the way she is acting makes me love her even more. Maybe it's because she is honest. I've spent my whole life seeing my mother put on a façade. The honesty is intriguing to me. And if you can't trust someone who has always been honest, who can you trust?
Haymitch instructed us to appear mediocre, so for the next three days of training, we avoid weightlifting and archery. However, I do tire of being the weak one that doesn't seem to have a skill, so in hand-to-hand combat, I give it my all, and excel. Katniss does really well with other survival skills-she's been using them so long, it's second nature to her.
For lunch, all tributes eat together. Career tributes eat together, but everyone else, even tributes from the same district, eat alone. Katniss looks like she wishes to be alone, but under Haymitch's orders, we "are to appear as amiable as possible," so she struggles to find a topic. I ease her pain by bringing up the fact that each district has different looking bread. Sometimes, although rarely, we'd have delegates from other districts visit our mayor, and the mayor always asked my dad to prepare some bread from their district to make them feel welcome. District 11 has a crescent moon shaped bread, district 4 a sea green bread, and so on. She seems utterly bored, and who can blame her? Bread is not the most exciting of topics. I can't help but think that she and Gale would have much more to talk about if he were here instead of me. He may even be able to coax a smile out of her, something I try to achieve but never can.
I tell her to talk while I smile pleasantly, to fool the other tributes into thinking we're having a great conversation, which couldn't be farther from the truth. Katniss really doesn't have anything to say to me, and I don't have the courage to tell her the things I want to say. She tells me she was once chased by a bear, and I tell her I find that fascinating. I am not lying, I do find it fascinating; Not that she was chased, but how she dealt with it. I'm sure she had some genius plan she put into action, and may have had help from Gale. I erase the thought of she and Gale and keep smiling. I ask her questions about the event just as I should, and most importantly, I keep smiling.
The second day of training, I suggest we try spear-throwing, as the career tributes seem to be good at it, and it scares me quite a bit, she doesn't argue, and we head over to that station. We are overshadowed by the career tributes, who get better at it with every throw. Speaking of shadows, I notice a small girl from district 11, watching us. "I think we have a shadow." Katniss throws her spear before paying attention to what I said. She isn't too bad actually, much better than I am, just not as strong. Her aim is incredible though. Then she turns her attention to the small girl. She looks as if a memory is replaying in her head, and I tell her, "I think her name is Rue." She looks worried, like I suggested it for a reason. "What can we do about it?" She says. I think she is expecting me to say something to the girl, which bothers me because really I don't mind at all. I wouldn't even mind helping her out, giving her a slightly better chance in the arena than she has now. Anger fills my heart again as I think about the danger the Capitol is putting this tiny girl in. It's unfair. I turn my attention back to Katniss. "Nothing to do, just making conversation." I try to sound as indifferent as possible, even though my mind is filled with hatred for the Capitol. But again, I have to pretend like everything is fine, and put up a fake façade of being the nice guy. It's then that it hits me: Maybe my uncanny ability to pretend everything is as it should be, maybe my ability to be friendly and polite even when I don't want to be, maybe I get that from my mother. I wince, then throw another spear, imagining President Snow's face as the target. The spear hits dead center, and it hits strong enough to almost knock the target to the ground. I am proud of myself for a split second, before realizing that no one was looking. The careers were talking to each other, and Katniss is watching Rue work with a slingshot. It's better that no one saw anyway. I don't need anyone targeting me.
I make some headway with Katniss that night after we exit the elevator on our floor. Haymitch and Effie have just gotten done drilling us about every detail of training, so I tell Katniss, "Someone ought to get Haymitch a drink." There it is-the smile I've been wanting to see for a long time. She stifles a laugh, but then tells me not to pretend everything is fine when there is no people around. I don't really know what to say to make her think I'm not pretending, without revealing that I have no plans of leaving the arena alive. So I just say, "All right, Katniss." It's frustrating, yes, but at least I got the smile and half-laugh.
The third day of training has arrived, and this will be our private session training day. Today, the gamemakers will evaluate each one of us individually, and give us a score, 1 to 12. It determines our sponsors. Citizens normally sponsor tributes with a high score. When I'm called, Katniss tells me, "Remember what Haymitch said about being sure to throw the weights." A smile spreads across my face with my back to her. If she said that, she must care. At least a little bit. She wants me to get a high enough score. Shocked, but pretending to be indifferent, I turn to her before heading in, and say, "Thanks- you, shoot straight." Duh. I'm so good with people and yet that's the best I could come up with. Of course she will shoot straight, it's all she does, she shoots with incredible precision. I think of a million better things to say while I head into the training center to show what I can do.
By now, the gamemakers are so drunk and stuffed that most appear bored. The ones that don't are dozing off. This Is unfair, how can we expect to get a good score with them like that? They probably won't even pay attention and just give the two of us a 5 or something. Still, there isn't anything for me to do except throw some weights. I pick up a 50 pound dumbbell, and toss it the air, it goes pretty high, and I catch it in my other hand. Then, I do a 75 pound one, then a 100. I'm going to try to get to 150, but then they tell me I can leave. I am not surprised, they looked bored when I came in, watching someone toss a dumbbell in the air must have been the most boring thing they've seen all day. I cross my fingers that Katniss does better, and I walk out of the room.
At dinner that night, Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, and I sit around our dining table on our floor. Katniss looks worried, she barely touches her food, which I haven't seen her do the whole time here. She looks straight down, as if not wanting to make eye contact with Haymitch or Effie. I stare until her eyes meet mine, then I raise my eyebrow, wondering what was wrong. She shakes her head, and Haymitch catches it. "Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?" She shoots me a glare as if to say "Thanks asshole." I feel bad, so I quickly try to remedy the situation by telling him that it really doesn't matter what happened, the gamemakers were all drunk and bored and tired, so they weren't paying attention anyway. "I just threw around weights until they told me I could go." She eases her facial expression, and I can tell I helped, at least a little. Then what she says next scares me.
Haymitch calls her sweetheart, and it seems to hit a nerve, so then she says, probably without thinking it through, "I shot an arrow at the gamemakers." I spit out my wine and drop my fork. I knew she was a no-bullshit kind of tribute, but even this surprises me. Shooting at the gamemakers? She could have been killed, or at least given a score of 1. I sincerely hope that isn't the case when we watch the scores on tv tonight. Effie looks frightened, but not for Katniss, she just looks frightened. "You what?" She manages to squeal. She repeats herself, then clarifies that she didn't shot directly at them, just at an apple in their roast pig's mouth. Still, it could have hit them. I shake that last thought out of my head. If she wanted to shoot them, they'd be dead. I just now notice that Cinna and Portia have entered the room. "And what did they say?" Cinna asks her. "Nothing, or I don't know, I walked out after that."
"Without permission?"
"I dismissed myself." I am having trouble swallowing. Haymitch butters a roll as if he hasn't heard anything. "Well, that's that." He tells her it wouldn't make much sense to kill her or her family, and he says they will probably just punish her by making her life hell in the arena. I speak up, "Well they've already promised to do that anyway."
"Very true", says Haymitch, and now I have relaxed a little bit. Haymitch laughs. I haven't really seen him laugh sober. "What were their faces like?" Katniss tells us they were shocked, terrified, and one fell into a bowl of punch. Now I laugh too. Effie is trying not to laugh, but she's the only one. Then she says it serves them right, because they are supposed to be paying attention to us. Katniss smiles while looking at Effie, like Effie is on our side. Maybe she is, I don't know.
Katniss was afraid she'd get a bad score. Then Portia comforted her by saying it wasn't a big deal, some tributes aim for low scores so other tributes don't target them first. This seems to make Katniss feel better, as now she starts eating again. Now, in the sitting room, the tv is on and the national anthem plays. I begin to notice that my palms are sweaty. I tell myself what Portia told Katniss, low scores are helpful sometimes. "Here are our scores!" Says the announcer. "District One: 10, 8" The second score is the female tributes score. "District 2: 10,10. District 3: 5,6. District 4: 4, 8. District 5: 8, 7. District 6: 5, 6. District 7: 5,5. District 8: 10, 9. District 9: 4, 3. District 10: 8, 3. District 11: 8, 7…" That means little Rue got a seven, a part of me wonders if she'll be a harm, but then I shake my head for being stupid. I hope she does do well. If Katniss doesn't win, I hope it's her. It would give the rest of the kids of Panem hope. District 12 is up next. I wipe my sweaty palms against my pants, Katniss is sitting on the couch, her arms wrapped around her knees and her chin resting on top. She doesn't look afraid anymore, she actually looks a little hopeful, maybe because Rue got a seven. "District 12: 8, 11." WHAT? I am ecstatic that we did so well, and Katniss beat all other tributes, even the careers! I didn't do too bad myself, either. Everyone begins congratulating me and Katniss, but mostly Katniss. I give her a nod and a smile, trying my best to show her that I really am proud of her. I don't mean to be the buzz kill, but I am wondering why. "It must be a mistake. How could that happen?" Haymitch answers, "Guess they liked your temper." Well, I like her temper, that's good enough for me.
After the celebratory congratulations are over with, I tell Haymitch that I want to speak with him in private, then I excuse myself to go to bed. Haymitch is knocking on my door five minutes after I get there. I let him in. "What's the matter?"
"It's getting harder and harder for me to pretend."
"Which part?" First of all, I'm pretending to be doing my best to survive in the arena when actually I'm looking out for her. Secondly, I am pretending, to the other tributes, that we are friends. "Katniss may start to suspect something if I keep acting friendly, I'm afraid I'll spill."
"That wouldn't be wise."
"I know. Besides, you have to start training me on what I can do to keep her alive anyway."
"True, alright. I'll coach you separately."
"What do we tell her?"
"That you've asked to be coached separately." I don't want to do that. I don't want her to think that it's because she scored an eleven and I am afraid of her, I don't want her to think I'm not on her side. There isn't any other way though. Haymitch senses my discomfort, and says, "Trust me, the less she trusts you, the more you can help." I nod my head, and Haymitch leaves. I lay my head on my pillow and try to sleep, but I find it difficult. When I dream, its of her.
It's sunny, June 14, the last day of primary school. I leave school, and I follow Katniss into the woods. I follow her through the brush and the trees and the streams of water, trying not to be noticed. Finally, we get to a lake. It's a beautiful lake, with water so clear you can see straight through to the bottom. There is a small cottage to the right of the lake, with smoke rising from the chimney. Katniss goes into the cottage, and I peek in through the window. In front of me, there is a little kitchenette, telling me someone used to live here, or at least make an extended stay. Part of me wonders if this place was here when this place was still known as The United States. Maybe it went untouched by the war. I can't see any other logical explanation, as people from Panem live in the districts. Leaving the districts is punishable by death. To the left, is a small living area, but there isn't any furniture-only a bear skin rug that sits in front of the fireplace. The fireplace is on the left wall. In the middle of the cottage, there's a hallway,with three doors. I'm guessing those are bedrooms and a bathroom. But I don't have much time to look, because Katniss is coming out of the left door, and, Gale is coming out of the right. Gale is shirtless, and Katniss has taken off her shoes and sweater, and it's then I realize they are going for a swim.
I hide in a rosebush, which really should hurt, but it doesn't. The sweet smelling scent of roses fills the air, and I suck in as much air as I can while I'm there. The two of them are standing on a hill that overlooks the lake. There is a tree by them, with a branch that extends out over the lake. Gale gives Katniss a rope, and I wonder what she is doing. She ties the rope to the end of an arrow, and shoots the arrow up to the branch. The rope falls down. Katniss grabs it, and, tells Gale she'll go first. She takes the rope and swings out over the lake, and drops into the water, laughing. The laugh isn't a nervous laugh, or a half-laugh, it's a real, live, innocent laughter. Gale is smiling as he looks down on her, coming up out of the water for air. She yells for him to get in. He does the same, and lands in the water by her. When he comes up for air, they splash each other, and laugh and tell stories that they normally couldn't tell, stories about their parents and the Capitol and the promise that someday they'll leave and run away. Then they hug each other. I don't want to watch anymore, as now, out in the woods, they don't seem like they did in the Hob when they brought game. Now, they seem romantic. Suddenly, as if my vision is on zoom, I can see much closer. Katniss looks at him with a sparkle in her eyes. A way I have never seen her look at him in the district, or at me. Or at anyone. A look that shows complete trust, friendship, and love. She looks in my direction, and makes eye contact with me, then says, "I don't need you, Peeta."
I wake up from the dream, out of breath, and realize I am soaked in sweat. I yank the blanket off of me, and look at the time. It's 6 am. Dinner is at 8, so I decide to shower and get ready. I heat the water to 75 degrees, which is slightly cool, since I've been sweating. As I'm rinsing my air, I close my eyes and bow my head under the stream of water. I start to think about the dream. I've been awake for ten minutes now, so most of what happened I can't remember, but I do remember her hugging Gale, the sparkle, and her telling me that she doesn't need me. I know it's just a dream, but sometimes dreams can tell you what your conscious mind can't. Maybe there is something romantic between them, and they just hide it when they are in the district. But, Gale doesn't hide it. In him, I can tell. In her, I can't see any indication that she feels anything romantic for him. Truth is, I don't know. The only thing I know for sure is that he loves her, and she shares a connection with him that I never will. And maybe she doesn't need me. I'm sure she'd do well in the arena if I died the first day. Still, I don't care what she thinks, or at least my dream's version of her thinks. My plans don't change. The dream does help me though. It helps me focus on my long term goal, and not the friendship I so desperately want. So when we're in the dining room for breakfast and Haymitch tells her that I've asked to be trained separately, I keep a straight face.