Chapter 2:
The next morning, I wake up with a God-awful hangover. I have no point of reference, really, but the pounding that fills my head, seemingly loud as a jackhammer, nausea that hits my stomach as soon as I stir from bed, and complete dehydration that I feel-from my chapped lips the dried skin on my feet- tells me that it must be. If Haymitch continues to drink merely to avoid this feeling- well, I guess I can understand that.
I groggily get out of bed, walk down the hallway towards the bathroom. I pass Prim's empty room, then notice the door slightly ajar to my mother's room further down the hallway and see them both sleeping peacefully. I feel awful. For going out and getting drunk, when Prim is the one that is suffering far more than myself. I should have stayed here, waiting until she let me in her room, stroking her hair as she fell asleep. Instead, I stumble home late into the night and pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow. I look down at my shirt to see that a wet spot of drool had accumulated near the neckline. What a mess I am. I decide to draw a bath, get dressed, get something to drink and find something to help remedy my current state, and then figure out what the plans are with Peeta and Haymitch. I also need to figure out how I am going to make it through the next three months. Well, three months and however long the seventy-fifth Hunger Games last.
Sitting in the tub, I realize that my reaction last night, perhaps while justified in my mind at the time, was not going to get anyone anywhere. I must be stronger than this. I soak in the tub a long time, collecting my thoughts, trying to absorb water back into my body through osmosis. When I am ready, I dress and head down to the kitchen, where I attempt to drink a glass of water twice as large the one containing whatever alcohol I had consumed the previous night. I get about halfway through when another bout of nausea hits me. Disgusted with myself for wasting so much time, I dig through my mother's remedies until I find some generic pain pills. I pop two, then leave Prim and mother still sleeping and walk the short distance to check in with Haymitch.
The first thing I realize that could be construed as silver lining is that us mentors- Haymitch, Peeta, and I, as well as at least one mentee- Prim, all live within a few houses of each other. Both of Peeta's brothers were still living with his parents above the bakery, but that could easily be remedied by one of them moving into Victor's Village with Peeta- he had plenty of extra room. My mother would then be the only one living in our entire part of town not directly involved in training for the Quarter Quell. Absolute secrecy- other than any surveillance mechanisms that has been rigged by the Capitol of course- something that most certainly could come in handy.
I arrive at Haymitch's to find Peeta already there- and he looks as rough as I do, if not more so. Apparently, the glass of alcohol he drank with me was actually his second, and he couldn't walk home, so he stayed. So unlike him- so unlike both of us. Haymitch, being used to it, simply laughed at our expense.
I sit down at the table again, but tightly screw the cap back on the liquor bottle still taunting us at the center of the table. Just looking at it makes me feel dizzy. I look at Haymitch and Peeta in turn, and while Peeta looks like he is struggling to keep his breakfast down, he still returns my gaze.
"I'm sorry about last night," I begin, speaking to them both. "That was no way to react." They both nod slowly, Peeta in agreement, Haymitch in understanding. I continue. "I'm ready to get started. Do whatever we need to do to ensure that both Prim and your brother," I look at Peeta as I say this, "come home as the victors. Hey, it happened last year," I say to Haymitch, the evidence right before him.
"All right," Haymitch replies, sounding remarkably sober despite all evidence to the contrary, "It's about time. I'm glad you're both here. Peeta and I were waiting for you to arrive before we discussed anything. First of all, all three of us are going to be conducting the training equally for the next few months. We need to maximize what these kids are exposed to. You have both been through it all before, so you will be able to teach them a lot more than you realize. Peeta, it doesn't matter if your brothers are bigger and stronger and can even decorate cakes better, you've been through training at the Games, so you can still show them camouflaging, hand-to-hand combat, fire-starting. Katniss, obviously archery, hunting game, and edible plants are your biggest strengths, though you have many. Now listen, I don't want any hesitation out of either one of you in training the other's siblings. They will all be trained together. Peeta, Prim is your sister. Do not hold anything back. Katniss, whichever of Peeta's brothers gets chosen, Paavo or Paca, you show them everything you know. Everything. Got it?"
I hesitate. I trust Peeta, but only after everything we've been through together- I don't know his brothers from Adam. Do I want to teach Prim's competitors how they can effectively kill her? I'm not so sure. But Peeta immediately answers, "Of course," and I find myself feeling guilty. I owe my life to the boy with the bread, many times over. Without trusting him, and Haymitch, I would never have gotten this far. I can't very well lose sight of this now, hold back. So, despite the risk that this ultimately could end up being against my better judgment, I nod my head.
"Good," says Haymitch. "We'll start all of that tomorrow. But all of the training MUST be conducted within our homes, so that no one, not even from our own district, can witness it. Understood?"
Peeta and I both nod. This puts a bit of a kink in things, but our homes are plenty large enough to set up a few basic training exercises. And since money is no longer an object, over time we'll be able to purchase everything that we need to simulate different environments of the Games.
"Now, Peeta, do you know which of your brothers is going to be more up to this task? Will one volunteer for the other? Or should we train both of them equally?"
"I'm…I'm not sure," he replies, thoughtfully, wistfully. "I think if Paca were picked Paavo might volunteer for him," he says in a small voice. Undoubtedly he was thinking back to his own Reaping Day, when crickets chirped in the few minutes after he was called forward. "They…. are a lot closer to each other than either one of them are to me. And if I had to guess who had the better chance, I would say Paavo anyway. He was the one who won the wrestling tournament at our school."
Haymitch takes this in. "Can you talk to him about it? Confirm it? Tonight?"
Peeta hesitates. "I doubt that he would open up to me," he says honestly. I look over at Peeta, and it looks almost as though he is about to cry. Haymitch has clearly hit a nerve. I feel a rush of sympathy for him, since I can't imagine not being close to your own brother, because I definitely can't imagine not being close to Prim. I also feel utter confusion, because I can't imagine anyone not wanting to be close to Peeta- especially someone that has known him all his life. I wish I understood.
Haymitch sighs back. "Okay, they will be trained equally then, at least initially." He takes a drink of liquor- how, after last night, I don't know- and addresses us again. "All right, now we need to start thinking about our angle."
Peeta and I glance at each other. "Our angle?" we say in unison.
Haymitch sighs, exasperated. "Yes, your angle! You know, like you two? Girl on Fire. Costumes blazing. Unity through holding hands. Holding back on your individual talents until the one-on-one with the Gamemakers. Top training scores. Twirling and giggling in a flame dress. Unrequited love. The Star-crossed lovers from District 12! Any of this ring a bell? How can we top that?"
Peeta and I look at each other again, dumbfounded. To us, the answer is pretty simple- we can't.