*KATNISS'S POV*

It still takes effort to wake up in the morning and realize that I have everything I ever wanted: clean clothes, my own bed, fresh food and water, a hot shower, a nice house. I don't even have to hunt.

But on this day, the Reaping, the urge is stronger than ever. I want nothing more than to escape into the woods with my father's bow and arrow, secure in the knowledge that Gale has my back, invincible.

And it's funny. Even though almost anyone in District 12 would beg for the life that I have, I still miss the small things. The way the supple leather of my hunting boots molded to my feet. The feeling of stringing an arrow through my bow, watching as it zips through the air. Gale's strong arms closing around me when I needed a shoulder to cry on. I can't have that anymore.

The hunting boots are in our old house, at the outskirts of town, directly across from the meadow. Technically, it's still ours. If I were to suddenly drop dead, my mother and Prim would have to go back. But right now, they use it as a makeshift hospital and shelter. Either Mother or Prim will drop in a few times a week to heal wounded mine workers and soothe everyone's spirits.

The bow, with my quiver full of arrows, is tucked securely under its log in the woods. Never in a million years would I have entertained the notion that I wouldn't be able to retrieve them again. I wonder if Gale uses them.

Gale. I can hardly think his name without tearing up. I know I should be grateful. The Capitol hasn't once blamed Peeta and me for a rebellion, even though we are the ones who outsmarted the Gamemakers. They've given us this beautiful home. They've made a life for Mother and Prim. And Peeta. And me.

But they've forbidden me from having any contact whatsoever with Gale. Snow is so worried that any whisper of defiance will light a spark that will send Panem up in flames, so right now, they're playing the star-crossed lovers card. The only reasonable excuse is that I was simply so in love with Peeta, so desperate to return to District 12 with him at my side, that I would rather die than be without him. And Peeta and I had to agree.

I guess being seen around town with a hunky, muscular male, who more often than not has his arm wrapped around my shoulder, wouldn't be very good for the public image.

Not that I don't love Peeta. I do. And not that I want to go back to that rotting shack. I don't. But every time I see my old hunting partner around the village, I can't meet his eyes. One smile, and I know I'd want to continue where we left off.

But I can't.

"Katniss?"

I jolt up from my daze and force a smile. "Peeta." I climb out of bed and throw my arms around him. "Good morning."

"Happy Reaping," he replies. "The cameras are going to be here in two hours. We'd better start getting ready."

If District 12 had any more victors, we'd be scorned among them, sneered at for being young and naive. But the fact is, we're the only winners we've ever had. Other than Haymitch Abernathy, who is more often than not drunk out of his mind. It's his way of coping, I guess.

I take a deep breath. "We're mentoring this year."

"And for many more to come," Peeta reminds me. "It's not a one-shot deal."

"I know." I sigh.

"I can't believe our first time is a Quarter Quell, either," Peeta says.

"No, that's not it. I just don't think I can survive through another Games, watching from the sidelines as two children we've tried our best for are brutally murdered by the Careers. I won't be able to take it." I tense up, remembering the spear that pierced Rue's stomach and took her life. "I don't know how Effie does it."

"At least she's not in the thick of it. We are. And now we have an hour-and-a-half."

"Alright. I'll go get ready."

I'm in and out of the shower in a flash. After drying myself off, I place my hand on a box that sends an electric current through my hair, untangling my brown mane and letting it float elegantly over my shoulders. I wrap my body in a towel and open the door to the bathroom. Steam billows out, and for a moment I feel woozy.

"Hey, there." Peeta laughs as he catches me. "Don't pass out on me."

"Don't worry. I just got dizzy for a second."

He doesn't look particularly convinced, but he lets me go and follows me to the room we share. "What are you going to wear?"

"A nice dress, I guess. I haven't thought about it much."

For the first time this morning, he looks a little annoyed. "Come on, Katniss, I know you don't want to mentor, but you need to take this seriously. Yeah, everything worked out for you in the Games, whether you followed directions or not, but the truth is that you're not the only person your actions are affecting."

I've heard this one before. "I know, Peeta. You've told me. So have Effie, and Haymitch, and Snow."

"President Snow. Katniss, we are on live TV in 60 minutes. You have exactly one hour to look pretty, smile, and play nice for the cameras. Pull it together."

I respond by slamming the door in his face.

Thirty minutes later, I'm decked out in a huge layered pink skirt and silver top, with silver heels and bangles and necklace. My earrings are silver too, with tiny coral stones. My hair is pulled tight on top of my head with a ridiculous pink bow.

"They're going to laugh at us," I tell Peeta.

"Who? The kids at the Reaping?"

"No. Well, yes, but that's not what I mean. The other victors. They never dress like the Capitol people. They wear normal clothes. They need to take us seriously, Peeta. If we're going to make alliance deals with them, they can't be thinking we're Capitol puppets."

"I get what you mean. Maybe we can talk to Effie."

"You know what Effie's going to say." I roll my eyes and put on an affected Capitol accent, making it high and girly. "You're all just being silly."

"What about Cinna or Portia?" he suggests.

"They're going to be busy with the tributes. Remember, we're not the sole focus of this anymore. This is about the children. Not us."

He shrugs. "The only person left is Haymitch."

"Right. Like he's going to help."

"Then you're just going to have to suck it up, Katniss."

"This is a big deal!" I exclaim. "You said it yourself before. Our actions don't just affect us!"

"I didn't mean clothing."

"But it is the clothing. It's everything. We have to look strong and able, not like pesky dolls. We have to be certain. What's wrong with jeans and boots?"

He adjusts his grey tie. "Then change."

"What?"

"Don't wear that then."

"Great." I head into the bedroom, put on black leggings and a tight purple shirt that I think they call a cropped top. "I think this will pass everyone's test. Are you going to put on different clothes?"

"I think the men wear suits," he replies, slipping on shiny black shoes that the Capitol said we were imported from far, far away. Somewhere named Inali, perhaps? Italy? Emili?

Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door.

"Oh my goodness, Katniss, Peeta, darlings!" Effie bustles in, her usual enthusiastic self, adorned in a flouncy blue dress with ten-inch high white heels and a plethora of necklaces. An azure wig is perched precariously on her head. She air-kisses our cheeks and is about to hug me when she notices my outfit. "Katniss, dear, what on Earth are you wearing?"

I shrug.

"Where is that beautiful skirt I picked out for you?"

"Hanging up. In my closet."

"But you must wear that! It's your first television appearance ever. Don't you want to look good?"

"You mean except for the two weeks I spent fighting to the death for the entire nation to see?" I quip.

She pats me on the head. "Wear what you want, then. But the cameras are going to turn up in five minutes."

"Katniss." Cinna strides into the room in red pants and a white shirt. "I hope you're not still expecting me to dress you?"

"Of course not." I'm not sure whether he's joking.

"You're not wearing that?"

"What's wrong with it?" Now I'm on the defensive.

"Everything," a voice drawls from the door. "You're not making any deals in that outfit, sweetheart. Victors have to be dressed to the nines. Especially you, darling."

"Haymitch?"

He gulps a deep amber liquid from his flask. "I'm serious, sweetie. You better get ready. If the cameras catch you in that, you can kiss any chance of your tributes living goodbye." He grins and claps Peeta on the shoulder. "Good man."

"Thanks, Haymitch." He looks confused, but he's already playing his part.

And I suddenly understand we're part of a bigger picture. Of course the other mentors will be dressed up. Just like the tributes. Just like the Capitol residents. Just like everyone else. What will I look like in my pathetic outfit? For the fourth time this morning, I retreat to my room to change clothes.