Chapter 2
I don't move for a while. Moving seems impossible. Breathing is even harder. Every breath scrapes down my throat until it feels raw. My hands are so tightly wrapped around the arms of my seat that my wrists begin to ache. There is so much blood rushing to my head that I can't even see straight. Everything is blurry and cluttered.
"Katniss?" My mother's voice cuts through my haze. My whole body loosens and when my head turns to the doorway, there is a smile on my face. A fake, phony smile and it practically kills me to stretch my lips apart and curve the corners of my mouth up.
"Yes?"
"Is everything alright?" she asks, her hands wrung together. I can see how scared she is for me and I must do everything I can to keep her mind at peace. I must not worry any more than I already have. I cannot put more people at risk.
"Of course, just a regulation visit," I say cheerfully. "I think I need a bath."
Relief floods my mother's face. "Of course, I'll run it for you."
Ten minutes later, I head upstairs to the bathroom where the ceramic bath tub is filled to the brim. I dip a finger into the water. It is warm, on the edge of scalding hot. An enticing scent wafts upward from the water and I know that my mother has added some kind of perfumed oil to it. It takes all of my control to reach my whole arm in, drain the tub and refill it with cool, tepid water.
But I have had enough of the heat. I am smoldering inside. My body has turned to ashes. I need relief.
I sit on the floor while I wait for the tub to refill. I close my eyes but I can't keep them closed too long. I keep seeing Gale's eyes and Peeta's lips and hearing Snow's threats ringing in my ears. How he talked about so easily dispensing of Gale and even Peeta and my family if I cannot convince everyone that I love Peeta Mellark, the baker's son from District 12.
I finally lower myself in and my teeth lock together as the cold races up my skin, drawing goosebumps. I stretch out as much as I can and lie back, my head resting against the rim. The water keeps me frigid, alert. It cannot draw me into a lull and make me forget about my problems. It cannot make me forget that I have put one more person in danger with my carelessness.
What was I thinking with Gale? How could I have been so stupid to think that no one would find out? I'm practically a celebrity, the face of the Games, recognised from anywhere. Anyone with half a brain in district 12 would know that Gale and I disappear into the words each Sunday and reappear with game.
I allow my brain to draw back over the memory – Gale's heavy breath, his fingers running along my skin, lips kissing parts of me no one has ever touched…..
I begin to have an attack when I connect this memory with President Snow's snakelike eyes.
I lurch myself half out of the tub and grab the coarse cloth my mother uses to clean the coal off the tiles with – she has left it on the bench, no doubt after having scrubbed the bathroom clean – and begin to wash myself with it. It is far too rough for human skin but I do not care. I must scrub harder. I must get the dirt off me. I must get the mark off, the one his eyes have left on me.
Only when I feel a burn flash across my arms do I realise that I have still been scrubbing my arms for at least ten minutes. I have scrubbed so hard that I have taken off a thin layer of skin. I have drawn blood.
The cloth drops limply from my hands into the water and I lift my arms up gingerly. Red droplets drip down and fall into the water, one by one until I am sitting in red tinted water. In a panic, I try to scramble out but I slip back down and my head sinks underneath the water.
My first instinct is to struggle. But I find that it's nice in the water. It blocks out the rest of the world and it is only me. Only me.
I think about just letting go. It would be easy now to just let the water take me, to stop breathing. Prim and my mother could live off my earnings and even if The Capitol found some way to take them away, Gale would protect them. Gale. He'd find someone, someone who could give him what he needs, what he deserves. And Peeta. He deserves someone who can see how kindhearted he is. How rare a human being he is. And surely, someone would someday see that. And Haymitch. He wouldn't have to put up with me mouthing off at him and arguing. They'd all be better off, wouldn't they?
I don't have any more time to contemplate the reason of my existence.
Because there are hands cupping my face and lifting me from the water and back up into life. My lungs explode with oxygen and I blink rapidly; it takes a while for the water to drip from my eyes.
"Are you out of your mind?" I cough and splutter on the water that has clogged my throat. The hands around my face are warm, and I relish this warmth. But it is quickly taken from me. The hands leave and I feel a towel drape itself around my shoulders.
"I'm sorry," I choke out, my ice cold fingers clinging to the towel. Some of my sense has returned to me and I'm vaguely worried about being naked. The water slowly shrinks around my body and I can hear it being sucked down the drain.
Peeta's blue eyes flash angrily at me. I could count on one hand the times that Peeta has ever been visibly angry or hurt. Right then, I know I am in serious trouble. "Please tell me that you just fell asleep and that that wasn't on purpose," he says.
I don't look him in the eye when I say, "I fell asleep."
I hear him sigh and I know right then I am off the hook. Peeta cannot stay angry at me for too long. "Let me help you up."
Despite my vulnerability, I let him help me, all the while keeping the towel tightly clutched around my shivering body. Peeta leads me out of the bathroom towards my bedroom and I catch sight of Prim passing us, through the wet strands of my dark hair that shroud my face.
"She just fell asleep in the tub Prim," Peeta says in that affable tone of his. The one that makes anyone who listens to him automatically believe everything he says.
"Be careful Katniss," she says and with that, Peeta half drags me to my room. I collapse on my bed and Peeta immediately hovers over me.
"Get dressed Katniss," he says in a tired voice.
I sit upright and I find most of the water has cleared from my brain. I feel more like myself. "What are you doing here Peeta?" I ask instead, ignoring his words.
"The train arrived early, to take us for the tour. I came over here to warn you they were coming and your mother told me you were in the bathroom. I knocked several times and you didn't answer. I got worried." His eyes glaze over my body covered only in a soft cotton towel and he turns bright red. "I didn't mean to pry."
I wipe my wet, tangled hair from my eyes. I can't be mad at him for intruding when he technically saved my life. I sigh. Just when I thought I had repaid my debt to the boy with the bread, he goes and does something like this. I will never stop owing him, will I?
Strength returns to my voice when I answer. "Grab me those clothes on the chair."
Peeta obliges automatically, lifting up a white long sleeve top and a fancy pair of snug black pants that Cinna gave me. After all, I have to look presentable in front of The Capitol. He lays them on the bed and exits. I finally remove the towel and it is then I see the grazes down my arms. I'm not bleeding anymore and the grazes aren't too bad looking but they will need to be covered, hence the long sleeves. I dress myself as quickly as I can but leave my damp hair cascading down my back, knowing Cinna will have something better to do with it than I do. When I open the door, Peeta is standing there, waiting for me. I notice his eyes flicker down me. Did he notice the off colour of the water or see the burnt off skin on my arms?
"What?" I say and we lock eyes for a moment. There is a challenge in my eyes – say it Peeta. Go on, say it. I dare you.
"Nothing," he answers. His brief anger and concern for me are gone and back in its place is the same coolness that has separated us since we got home.
He doesn't have time to say anything else because my prep team come running down the hallway and practically push Peeta out of the way to envelop me in hugs. I see him watching me still from my doorway.
"Katniss," Venia shrieks. "So good to see you!"
I nod and smile as they prattle on but I soon realise they are tearing at my clothes. On instinct, I push them away. All three of them stop, surprised at my unwillingness. It's not like they haven't seen me naked before. It's not like they haven't seen every part of me.
But now there are scars on my arms that I cannot explain. That I do not want to explain.
"Is everything alright Katniss?" Flavius asks, cocking his head of orange corkscrew curls to the side.
I freeze. There is no excuse I can think of that will serve. After all, I am not one for words. Peeta is.
He's staring at me and perhaps he can see the fear in my eyes because he steps forward and clears his throat. My prep team all turn their heads and begin to fawn all over Peeta, as if just noticing he is there. He entertains them with compliments naturally but before too long, he has stepped through them to me.
"You'll have to excuse me but I'm afraid I've given you a problem to deal with," he says to them with a small smile.
Before I can stop him, he is lifting up my arms and showing them the grazes. Venia, Octavia and Flavius all lean in at once to examine them.
"You see, I brought Katniss to my old home to see where I grew up and meet my parents. While we were there, she offered to help me feed the pigs. But as she was slipping them food under the wire fence, she hurt herself." He shook his head, as if remembering the fake memory and trying to clear it from his head. "I don't think I've ever apologised so many times in my life."
At once, they all begin to cluck and tell Peeta that it's not his fault and that they're not that bad and they can easily cover them up with makeup if necessary. Peeta says something and I hear them share a laugh but I don't hear the words. I've tuned out.
He's done it again. Saved me I mean. I wish for once that he would stop helping me but then I can't imagine my life if he didn't.
"We'll take care of her Peeta," Octavia assures him, and I realise he is leaving, probably to meet with his own prep team so they can make him look as charming and handsome as ever.
He leans forward and I close my eyes as he kisses my cheek. His fingers brush lightly through my hair and the touch is a tad too real. It is far too genuine to be anything like the constant displays of affection that we have been parading through The Capitol and District 12.
An unrecognisable feeling churns in my guts, a strange warmth that takes over. It's just like the one that hit me in the arena, when I kissed Peeta and it made me want to kiss him again. I want this moment to be real too. I want to be in love with Peeta, because it would make all of this pretending so much easier.
Then he's gone and the feeling goes with him. And then I am at the mercy of my prep team.
After they have fixed my eyebrows, polished my skin to perfection and scrubbed me absolutely clean, they roll up my sleeves and come to my grazes. "It's lucky it's cold," Venia says. She fixes my sleeves and retrieves a comfy knitted green sweater that has the mark of Cinna in every stitch and I slip it over my top. They hand me a pair of leather boots that feel much softer than any other shoe I've ever worn.
They only apply a light layer of makeup which pleases me, and makes me feel more like myself. Soon after, they invite my mother in to do my hair. Her delicate hands work through my hair and carefully create a series of intricate braids. My prep team watches with wonder and I can see that my mother is mollified by their praise and has taken an instant liking to them.
When they are done, they tell me to go downstairs and I see Cinna waiting for me. I rush towards him and he hugs me as tightly as I hug him. Cinna is one of the few people I feel that I can trust. It feels good to see him again. To see him, gold eyeliner and all, gives me a big enough distraction to forget about Snow and Gale.
He shows me the designs he has drawn up, that I will pass off as mine. They are exquisite, drawn with a hand that could never be mine. Not that the world has to know that.
The next hour passes in a blur. The camera crew arrives and I show them the sketches I have supposedly drawn and read off the cue cards that Cinna has provided. I try to inject as much enthusiasm as I can into my voice but I know that my words are generic and bland. Not that they seem to notice. I see Cinna looking at me, and is pointing to his mouth and making a 'smile' gesture. I do my best but he doesn't seem fooled. Neither does my mother. She frowns and I make an effort to appear more than half-hearted.
By the time we get the train, I feel queasy. I know I need to tell someone about my confrontation with Snow. My mother and Prim would just worry and I have worried them enough. It would just make Gale angry, the thought of Snow knowing what had happened between us. It might even be enough to get him killed. Telling Peeta in our current situation is just a plain bad idea. He's smart enough to know we have to keep up our charade and I don't want to tell him anything about Gale.
Which leaves Haymitch.
Peeta, Effie, Cinna, Peeta's stylist Portia, Haymitch and I sit down at one of The Capitol's usual extravagant dinners. I sit there, prod at my food and try to swallow as much as I can. But I still cannot the shake the confrontation of the morning. Effie carries most of the conversation in her ridiculous Capitol accent but she seems to be the only one really interested in talking. Peeta, like me, is quiet but even he is able to put on an easy smile and jest about. Haymitch takes to the alcohol like a duck to water and only ten minutes into the meal, he is slurring his words and chucking about poor jokes. Cinna and Portia smile politely and open their mouths when needed but mostly, I see Cinna just staring at me. He catches my eye every now and then and smiles at me and I try to smile back. And then I remember Snow and I feel even sicker.
When darkness falls, everyone heads to bed. Peeta kisses my cheek goodnight and I retreat to my bed. Not that I sleep. I lay awake for hours until I am sure everyone is asleep. Then I wrap a robe around my silk pajamas and head down towards Haymitch's room. I know he will be not be asleep, maybe passed out but not asleep.
Sure enough, when I knock on his door, he appears at the door, looking haggard but relatively awake. There is a bottle of whiskey hanging from his left palm.
"What do you want Everdeen?" he asks with a hiccup. I can smell his breath from where he stands and it nearly knocks me out.
"I need to talk to you," I say. He waits for me to continue but I am hesitant. After this morning, I have no doubt that Snow has bugged the train. How can I tell him without actually telling him?
Just as I open my mouth, the train jolts. A capitol attendant roaming the hall informs us that we are only stopping for fuel. Haymitch tells him that we are stepping out for air and he offers to accompany us but Haymitch waves him away. He stumbles out into the snow and I pick him up.
"Okay, out with it," he says as he wipes snow off his pants.
Though it feels like my throat is attempting to close over, I tell him about Snow, and his threats. How I cannot fail. I even tell him about Gale. Not all of it though. It seems impossible to say those words out loud. I simply pass it off as a kiss.
"So don't fail," Haymitch says in a somber voice, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"It's not that easy," I tell him. I sigh, making deliberate footprints in the snow. "But you could help me get through this –'
Haymitch grabs my arm and a flare of pain shoots through me. I grit my teeth because I'm not supposed to be hurt.
"You have to understand Katniss. It's not just this. It's not just this trip. It's not just this one time."
I stare at him because I don't understand. Or I do understand but it's just too hard to take.
"You'll never get rid of the cameras or the Games. You'll go back every year and Peeta will be by your side. You'll live happily ever after, you have to."
I break away from his grip and vomit into the fresh snow. Haymitch groans from behind me. It's not fair, any of it. All my life, the one thing I had when we didn't have anything was the freedom to marry who I wanted, to be who I wanted to be. Every single choice is being taken away from me, whether I like it or not. I am The Capitol's puppet. I will do what they say.
Because even if I wanted to be with Gale, even if I changed my mind, there is no future for us. If I want us to live, I will have to marry the boy with the bread.
"Katniss." He actually sounds like he cares when he says my name like that. I feel his hands on my back and I flinch away from his touch. Haymitch caring is too much to handle. I leave him in the snow and I run back inside the train all the way back to my room. I don't even bother to be quiet about it, my steps thundering on the carpet.
I'm only a step inside when Peeta appears right in my doorway, like he has been waiting for me to return. His face is lit by the moonlight and it makes his blue eyes sparkle.
"What are you doing?" he hisses.
"None of your business," I answer back, trying to close my door on him. If he wants to treat me the way he has, then I don't see why I have to be nice to him. Still, I feel bad at my rude words.
Peeta forces himself in and closes the door. "Why did you do it?"
"What are you talking about?" I ask, though I know what he is going to say before he says it.
"You told me you fell asleep Katniss. You lied to me."
My eyes flicker to the ceiling. I wonder if he knows we are possibly being listened to or watched. I wonder if there is a way I can warn him before he says something incriminating. "I didn't –"
"I saw your arms. I saw the blood." He struggles to control the level of his voice. "Were you…..were you trying to…."
I know what he is alluding to. He is asking if I tried to kill myself. And even though I considered it, I say, "No. No, of course not." He doesn't look like he believes me but I plunge on. "I'm fine Peeta. Really."
Peeta takes my hands in his and squeezes them tight. "Don't lie to me again Katniss," he whispers.
It's a promise I know I can't keep. And yet, I still say, "I won't."