Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View
Chapter Nine
I sit in the kitchen with Haymitch one night, and he's looking at me wearily, as if trying to figure something out.
"She's going to try and save me, isn't she?" I ask, and he only nods his head. It's an odd thing, conversing with a sober Haymitch on a daily basis, and I find myself visiting him more often so that he's not alone. Even when he's conscious, Haymitch has nightmares to fight off. "Figured as much," I mumble, finishing off the tea from my cup.
"She still owes you, in her reckoning. We both do, boy." I glance up at him sharply, panicking that he might have changed his mind.
"You promised me, Haymitch. Remember, you promised to help me save her."
"I know, boy. I know." He mutters, avoiding my gaze. That's when I realise Katniss and Haymitch have been cooking up their own plan to save me.
The next morning I call Portia and ask her to run a special errand for me. At first, she's confused but eventually agrees after I explain fully. That evening, I search for Gale's house. He's at the mines all day so there's no point in trying to find him then; my only chance is at night when all the miners are allowed to go home. Hazelle answers the door and is surprised to see me standing on the other side.
"Peeta!" She just stares at me a moment, then she seems to remember her manners. "Sorry, what are you doing here, is everything all right?"
"Yes, um yes, fine. I was just wondering if I could speak to Gale?"
"I'll go get him, come on in." I step into the house and close the door behind me, standing awkwardly in the hall whilst Hazelle calls for Gale, and a smaller child calls back. Gale sees me standing at his door and a range of emotions flicker through his eyes. He obviously hasn't learned to close them off like Katniss has. Surprise at seeing me, a hard glare, something I don't recognize, and then worry.
"Peeta, what's going on? Is Katniss okay?" He asks quickly and I realise what my being here would mean to him.
"Oh, yes. She's fine, I think. I just – I need a favor." Now he doesn't know what to say. He steps back and leans against a wall, arms folded over his chest as he stares me down.
"So, what kind of favor?"
"I need a way to uhm- to remind Katniss why she is – why she needs to come home. I need a photo of you." I stutter, and Gale's brows furrow in a frown.
"A photo? Why would I give you a photo of me?" He asks, and I try not to sigh in my frustration.
"Do you want her to come home, or not?" We seem to stare at one another for I don't know how long, but finally he stands up and breathes out a long sigh. "I'll be back in a minute." I nod my head and go back to my awkward standing. I don't even understand why I feel so nervous in front of him. I'm torn between not liking him, and thinking that there's a chance we could have been friends in different circumstances. He returns with a small photo, although I'll need to get Portia to resize it when we reach the Capitol. He hands it over, although his hands pausing for a fraction, making me look up into his face.
"This would all be so much easier, if I could hate you." He mutters, and I nod my head, understanding what he means. Gale isn't a bad person, we just happen to love the same girl. I don't say anything to him, because no words come to mind. I slip the photo into my pocket and turn, pulling the door open. I step outside, but Gale's voice makes me pause.
"Peeta, I'm sorry." I glance back at him with a questioning look. "I know that I said some hurtful things. I'm sorry for that." Again, I nod and say nothing. I shut the door behind me and walk away, back to my own home and to bed. Tomorrow is the Reaping Day.
–
The Reaping doesn't take long, and Effie doesn't seem her usual chirpy self. She's rather reserved, with just enough enthusiasm for the cameras. I don't understand why they insist on putting one slip of paper in one of the large bowls for Effie to pull out, because everybody knows whose name is on that piece of paper. And nobody in the crowd can volunteer for her. We all watch Effie step to the other bowl and reach in.
Please be Haymitch, please be Haymitch, please be-
"Haymitch Abernathy!" I breathe a sigh of relief, stepping forward and volunteering myself in his place. If it had been my name, then I wasn't entirely sure whether Haymitch would stick to our agreement. I wouldn't be able to undo his volunteer if it had been the other way around. Once that business is over, thoughts of my final goodbyes run through my mind. I have to tell my family I love them, and prepare them for the blow. I won't be coming back this time, and they will have to go on without me. This won't take much. They may grieve for a while, but their lives will move on easily without me. Lukail will marry his girl from the Seam; Gareth will stay to help at the Bakery for a while. Mother and father will get old, and one of them will inherit the Bakery. And it will l go on without me.
Thread is waiting in the Justice Building for us, with an odd smile on his face. "New procedure," he says and I already feel my stomach start to drop. We don't stop, but the Peacekeepers usher us out of the back door and into a car, which drives us straight to the train station. We step straight on to the train, without a crowd and cameras to flash and shout at us. Haymitch and Effie appear at our side, with guards to push them on their way. The wheels on the train move, and I have to steady myself with a hand on the wall. Katniss looks as shocked as I do, staring out the window at the disappearing District Twelve. The two of us stay where we are for a long while, even after the District is long gone behind us.
"We'll write letters, Katniss." I get her attention. "It will be better, anyway. Give them a piece of us to hold on to. Haymitch will deliver them for us if … they need to be delivered." She nods, and leaves me in the hall without a word. I return to my own room and sit on the bed for a while, staring at the wall across from me and going through the conversations I had planned beforehand. I had planned every single word I was going to say, but now they mean nothing. They would mean nothing if I wrote them down, but their lives will go on.
Their lives will go on, their lives will go on. I keep repeating the sentence in my head, like my own mantra. It's the only small comfort I can allow for myself. A knock on the door makes me jump, and Effie's voice follows, calling me to dinner. I don't bother changing, but make my way straight to the dining cart, where Haymitch is already sat. He looks gloomy, and I notice that he still isn't drinking. When Effie notices this, she makes the attendant take her glass of wine away. I know that Haymitch would rather be drinking heavily, and if he had been able to volunteer to go back in the arena, there would have been nothing stopping him.
The entire dinner is a gloomy affair, and Effie and I are the only ones who attempt any conversation, whilst Haymitch and Katniss mostly ignore us. There are long pauses, when the only sound is knives and forks scraping against plates. I'm relieved when we finally finish our meal, and Effie suggests we watch the recap of the Reaping's. Everyone agrees, and I quickly grab my notebooks to scrawl down any extra notes we can think of. We sit and watch the Recap, and it is only Effie who speaks. Making her own comments about each Tribute, and sighing regularly. I scribble a star next to each person who gets reaped and is going into the arena.
When it's all finished, Haymitch gets up and leaves the room without a word. Effie makes a few comments, and then bids us goodnight before leaving to go to bed. I rip out the pages we won't need, of those who aren't going into the arena, whilst Katniss sits on the other sofa in silence.
"Why don't you get some sleep?" I ask, and she pauses for a brief moment.
"What are you going to do?" Katniss asks, and I wonder that myself. I certainly don't feel like going to sleep just yet, I look down at my own handwriting.
"Just review my notes a while. Get a clear picture of what we're up against. But I'll go over it with you in the morning. Go to bed, Katniss." I tell her. Last time we were on a train, we spent the nights together, with her sometimes curled into my side. It helped to ward off the worst of the nightmares, but the two of us have barely had any contact since the night of Gale's whipping. Katniss leaves me in my own silence, and I spend hours reading over all the notes I have, until I know them all backwards. After that, I get my tapes of the previous Victors, and re-watch all the ones of those who we will be facing in the arena. Katniss walks in the room, and I jump up, stopping the video.
"Couldn't sleep?" I ask.
"Not for long," she says, pulling her robe tight around her frame.
"Want to talk about it?" I ask, knowing she had a nightmare. Katniss shakes her head, looking lost in her thoughts and probably the memory of what had haunted her sleep. I open my arms out, and she doesn't hesitate before walking into them. I fold her in my arms, and realise this is the first time we've been affectionate to each other since the announcement. Her arms snake around my neck and I pull her tightly to me, burying my face into her hair and kissing her gently on the neck. I allow myself this one moment; to inhale her scent, to feel her close, to love her.
I don't want to break from her, and she holds me tightly and doesn't seem to want to let me go either. A Capitol attendant walks into the room, so we step back from one another. He's holding a tray, with what looks like warm milk and some glasses.
"I brought an extra cup," he says, his eyes flicking to me.
"Thanks," Katniss replies.
"And I added a touch of honey to the milk. For sweetness. And just a pinch of spice," the attendant carries on. He looks at us, with what I think is the ghost of something else on his lips, but shakes his head and leaves the room.
"What's with him?" Katniss asks.
"I think he feels bad for us," I murmur.
"Right," Katniss pours the milk out into the glasses.
"I mean it. I don't think the people in the Capitol are going to be all that happy about our going back in. Or the other victors. They get attached to their champions."
"I'm guessing they'll get over it once the blood starts flowing." Katniss says without a hint of emotion. I'm not sure if I agree. "So you're watching all the tapes again?" she asks after a moment's pause.
"Not really. Just sort of skipping around to see people's different fighting techniques." I shrug, picking up the box of tapes.
"Who's next?"
"You pick," I hold the box out to her. She digs through and picks one out; I see the flash of a name on the side. Haymitch Abernathy.
"We never watched this one," Katniss says. I shake my head.
"No. I knew Haymitch didn't want to. The same way we didn't want to relive our own Games. And since we're all on the same team, I didn't think it mattered much."
"Is the person who won in twenty-five in here?" Katniss asks.
"I don't think so. Whoever it was must be dead by now, and Effie only sent me victors we might have to face." I hold the tape, deliberating. "Why? You think we ought to watch it?"
"It's the only Quell we have. We might pick up something valuable about how they work," Katniss reasons, but we're both thinking the same thing. It would be an invasion of Haymitch's privacy. "We don't have to tell Haymitch we saw it."
"Okay," I agree and we curl up on the sofa to watch the video. It's an editor's mash of the Games, and it's amazing how many children are Tributes before we get to District Twelve. Double the Tributes, but it just looks like so many right before us. We get to District Twelve and the camera zooms in on a young woman in the crowd, called Maysilee.
"Oh! She was my mother's friend." Another young woman hugs Maysilee, and I recognize the face, although she is much younger.
"I think that's your mother hugging her." I point out quietly. There's also another girl on the screen, hugging the first.
"Madge."
"That's her mother. She and Maysilee were twins or something." I tell her, remembering my dad mention something like that. "My dad mentioned it once." Haymitch's name comes up last, and he looks so different on the screen. He looks like a young, strong man with a dangerous look in his eyes.
"Oh. Peeta, you don't think he killed Maysilee, do you?" Katniss suddenly asks.
"With forty-eight players? I'd say the odds are against it." I try to reassure her. Since there are forty-eight players, there's a lot more footage for the editors to mash together, so it's a flash of different pieces of footage. There's extra footage of Haymitch, because he was the victor of those Games. We watch the video in mostly silence, but the force field Haymitch throws rocks at grabs my interest. I remember the top of the Training Centre, and Cinna showing me how it throws your hand back. When the footage ends and I switch the video off, the two of us are stunned into silence for a little while.
"That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Centre. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon." I'm mostly just thinking out loud, to stop the silence drawing on for too long.
"Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too. You know they didn't expect that to happen. It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!" Another memory comes to mind, of Haymitch looking like he understood my love for Katniss. Of wondering whether he once had someone he loved. Did the Capitol kill them to punish Haymitch for using the force field? Katniss starts laughing all of a sudden, and I shake my head at her. I think she might have lost her mind partially.
"Almost, but not quite," Haymitch's voice sounds from behind us, making me jump. Both our heads whip round to look at him. He smirks and takes a large swig from his wine bottle, looking unsteady on his feet. Well, there goes our sober mentor.
–
My Prep Team is near hysterical when I reach the Training Centre, and it only seems to get worse as they work on my body. It's a routine I'm so used to, that I barely notice their hands on me and the ripping of my body hair. Actually, the body hair is a little hard to ignore. I tune out the crying, the shrieks of how they can't believe it, of how it's just so unfair. I only relax when Portia sweeps into the room, and shoos away the Prep team.
"Oh, I am so glad to see you," I sigh, and rush forward to hug her. She laughs and hugs me back tentatively, then pushing me back gently.
"Peeta darling, perhaps you should put your robe on." She quirks an eyebrow and I jump back, the blood rushing up my neck and across my face. I had hugged her naked. I shrug the robe on, avoiding Portia's laughing gaze. I ease up when she orders lunch, and we eat together whilst catching up on events that cannot get us into trouble. I think I will have to take Portia up to the roof, so we can talk frankly, and I can tell her everything on my mind.
"So are you going to leave me in suspense, or are you going to tell me what my outfit is for today?" I ask, once I've eaten a second helping. "You're not going to set me on fire again, are you?" I ask her suspiciously. Portia laughs and shakes her head.
"We can't do the same thing again, that won't make them notice you. Although, Cinna and I have been watching a lot of fires." I sigh, and shake my head.
"All right, let's get this over with. I know you're just dying to show me." Portia laughs in glee, and jumps to her feet. I follow her with less enthusiasm, but frown in confusion when I see the black jumpsuit she's holding out to me. It's pretty plain, so I know that there's some trick to it. I get dressed quickly with the aid of Portia, and she styles my hair with the glop from last year, then touches up my face with some make up. No doubt this is to make my face shimmer in a particular light. The final touch is a black metal half-crown on the top of my head, similar to the one I had received as Victor last year.
"And now, for show time," Portia trills, turning the lights down and pressing a button on the inside of my wrist. The jumpsuit comes to life as a soft, golden light, but it blossoms into the orange red of burning coals. It's fascinating and I find myself entranced by the colors.
"This is amazing, Portia. You're both fantastic designers," I can't help but gush. Portia chuckles and steps to me, cradling my face in her soft, manicured hands.
"It'll be okay, Peeta. I'm sure it will all work out." Portia tells me, with such determination. I can't tell her that I don't plan on coming back out. Not just yet, at least. There will be a time for that. There's a pause between us, and then Portia turns the pack off in my sleeve. "Don't want it running out halfway through the Chariot ride," she says quietly and I suddenly feel bad, but for what I'm not sure. "Today we don't want you to be smiling and waving. Today, we need the powerful, straight faced Peeta and Katniss, and for you to act almost as if the crowd is beneath you." I nod my head, drumming my fingers against my real leg. "Well, I need to check up on a few things, but you can head down to the Remake Centre if you'd like." I don't understand the emotions currently running through Portia, so I place my hand firmly on her shoulder.
"Portia, are you okay?" I frown a little. She turns to me with tears in her eyes and folds me in a sudden, tight hug.
"I'm just so worried for you! Oh why do they have to do this! It's just not fair, not fair to either of you." There's definite crying and I hug her tightly for a moment before letting go, having to pull myself together.
"Come on now, you don't want me to ruin this entire wonderful make up, do you?" I ask, trying to sound aghast, and it makes Portia laugh just a little. Finally she calms down enough, so I make my way down to the Remake Centre, which is our gathering place. When I step out, I notice how different the atmosphere is to last year. Everything seems more social, and there are people flitting back and forth, talking to the other Tributes. I remember that most of these people are friends, and have known one another for a long time. I scan the small crowd in search of Katniss, and see her by our chariot next to the horses. I also notice the near naked young man at her side.
Finnick. There's no mistaking the supposedly beautiful man who has captured the hearts of Lord knows how many women in the Capitol. Some people refer to him as being at a legendary status in Panem, with his desire for so many women. So many broken hearts left in his path. He's leaning in to Katniss, his eyes glued to her face, and his lips moving slowly as he whispers something that makes Katniss blush. I push the jealousy from the pit of my stomach, and stride across the room towards them. Finnick's eyes flicker to me; he says something to Katniss and walks away.
"What did Finnick Odair want?" I ask Katniss, when I reach her side. She turns to me, and her lips are just inches from mine, her eyelids drop a little. It's confusing and captivating, all at the same time. I wonder if she can hear the hammering of my heartbeat.
"He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets," she tells me in a low, seductive voice. I wish she would stop, but at the same time I wish she wouldn't.
"Ugh. Not really," I say, swallowing hard. Katniss pulls back, and I lose some of the tension in my shoulders.
"Really. I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling." Well, at least she isn't attracted to him.
"Do you think we'd have ended up like this is only one of us had won?" I ask her, my eyes roving around the room at the people in the room. "Just another part of the freak show?"
"Sure. Especially you." I smile.
"Oh. And why especially me?"
"Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don't. They would lure you into their Capitol ways and you'd be lost entirely." She isn't entirely wrong about the beautiful things, considering Katniss is my biggest weakness, and the most beautiful girl I've ever come across.
"Having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness," I say. "Except possibly when it comes to you." The music begins playing, saving Katniss from having to answer me. The doors are opening for the first chariot, so I hold my hand out to Katniss. "Shall we?" I help her into the chariot, and she reaches down to help pull me up.
"Hold still," she says, reaching up to adjust the half-crown atop my head. "Have you seen your suit turned on? We're going to be fabulous again."
"Absolutely. But Portia says we're to be very above it all. No waving or anything. Where are they, anyway?" I ask, noticing their absence, when last year they had been all over us with their adjustments.
"I don't know. Maybe we better go ahead and switch ourselves on." We both reach into our sleeves and flick the buttons. Already, people are pointing to us and chattering excitedly. Still, no Portia and Cinna. "Are we supposed to hold hands this year?" Katniss asks me.
"I guess they've left it up to us." Katniss turns her head to me, and her eyes lock onto mine. I find myself lost in her grey eyes, wondering what she might be thinking. We don't say anything, but our hands find each other, our fingers entangling in a tight lock.
The Chariot rolls out into the light, and the crowd seems to explode in their cheering. Yet, we do not enjoy it like we had the year before. I stare straight ahead of me, keeping my face unemotional and hard, whilst Katniss does the same. I glimpse us on the screen, and we seem so powerful, dark, and unforgiving of the crowd and all that we have suffered. We loop round into the City Circle, where all of the Chariots have stopped. In front of us, there are a few of Tributes who have been forced into costumes that illuminate them. All imitations of the wonders Portia and Cinna have done with our costumes. For a moment, I feel very proud of my Capitol friend. I continue to stare ahead of me when President Snow steps up, and welcomes us all to the Quell. The anthem plays, and I still do not phase in my hard gaze in the last trip, to the Training Centre. Cinna and Portia are waiting inside the doors to greet us, and congratulate us on our performance. Haymitch is stood by the District Eleven chariot, and nods at us when he notices our arrival. The two Tributes from District Eleven follow him across to us. The male Tribute Chaff suddenly kisses Katniss on the cheek, making her stumble a little in shock. I try to think nothing of it. The female Tribute Seeder embraces Katniss without a word, and I hear Katniss murmur something to her. I don't catch the exact words, but have a feeling I know what she's asking.
The Capitol attendants direct us all to the elevators, and I realise it must be odd for them to see all of the Tributes socialize with one another, and embrace. Katniss is still grasping my hand whilst we follow the others. A girl sidles up beside Katniss, pulling off the headdress and dropping it to the floor behind her. I recognize her as Johanna Mason, an interesting character. She rolls her eyes.
"Isn't my costume awful? My stylist's the biggest idiot in the Capitol. Our tributes have been trees for forty years under her. Wish I'd got Cinna. You look fantastic."
"Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line. You should see what he can do with velvet," Katniss replies, and I have to suppress the smile that threatens to crawl across my lips. Katniss talking about fabrics is odd.
"I have. On your tour. That strapless number you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back." I quirk my eyebrow, but none of them are looking at me. I try not to think of anybody tearing a dress off Katniss.
Johanna unzips her dress and allows it to fall to the floor, kicking the clothing away with what looks like disgusts. "That's better," she sighs. I keep my eyes ahead of me.
We step into the elevator, and of course Johanna is with us. Katniss doesn't know where to look, and blood creeps across her face. Johanna talks to me about my paintings, and I answer her questions, thank her for her compliments, and keep my gaze on her face. First Finnick, with his golden net knotted at the groin, then Chaff with his sudden kisses, and now Johanna without a stitch of clothing. I think everybody remembers Katniss refusing to look at me without my clothes in last year's arena. When Johanna steps out of the elevator, I can't help but grin at the back of Katniss' head. Chaff and Seeder step out on the Eleventh floor, leaving just Katniss and I. She throws my hand away from her, and I burst into laughter.
"What?" She demands when we step out, and I'm still laughing.
"It's you, Katniss. Can't you see?"
"What's me?"
"Why they're acting like this. Finnick with his sugar cubes and Chaff kissing you and that whole thing with Johanna stripping down," I say, attempting to turn my voice serious. It doesn't work. "They're playing with you because you're so … you know."
"No, I don't know." Katniss says stubbornly.
"It's like when you wouldn't look at me naked in the arena even though I was half dead. You're so … pure." I tell her.
"I am not! I've been practically ripping your clothes off every time there's been a camera for the last year!" Katniss huffs indignantly.
"Yeah but … I mean, for the Capitol, you're pure. For me, you're perfect. They're just teasing you."
"No, they're laughing at me, and so are you!"
"No," I shake my head and fight the smile. Katniss doesn't say anything, and the elevator doors open up. Haymitch and Effie walk out, and in a few seconds, Haymitch has a hard expression on his face. I'm confused for a moment, but realise he's not staring at Katniss or I, but behind us. Effie blinks her gaze in the same direction.
"Looks like they've got you a matched set this year," Effie says, as if talking about clothing, or furniture. We both turn around, and see that there are two Avox people waiting for us by the door. They both have red hair, which must be what Effie had meant. The girl is from last year. My eyes focus on the male, and my stomach drops. Darius stares back at us. I wasn't sure if we'd see him again.