32

I'm doing something dangerous. Deadly.

I'm beginning to hope.

I need to stop because that's exactly what the Gamemakers want me to do. They want me to hope and then they'll want to rip that rug out from beneath my feet. But…can they really rip this rug out?

They said both tributes from the same District could win. That means Prim and Peeta. Even better, Prim has now found Peeta—with the help of conniving little Foxface. I don't care what Prim said, I think Foxface was trying to drown her but stopped because she heard Cato and Clove. I hate Foxface. I hate her more than any other tribute except maybe Cato because she's smart. Too smart.

Smarter than I would have been in the games.

She has a secret weapon in that backpack of hers. I saw her get it. Saw her stuff the pack with it. No one but us viewers know what she's done and it was brilliant. It will kill everyone if she gets them all in the same location close together…which is exactly what she's doing.

She's joining them on their foolhardy mission to get Thresh. Don't they realize Thresh is the smartest of the bunch? He's survived on his own, he's killed, he's tough, and he's staked his claim on that giant field by the cornucopia. He doesn't need anyone to come get him. Rue, Peeta, Prim, and Foxface need to just stay in that stupid cave of theirs and wait for him.

Well…not Foxface.

She needs to die.

I grip the screen and watch them traipse off toward the Cornucopia because my little duck is so set on saving everyone. Peeta's almost walking normally. I'm so proud of Haymitch for spending our money like that. It's perfect and multi-purposed. When he returns from the Capitol, I might not punch him. That's how thankful I am.

That cream can help most wounds. Granted, I would have liked Haymitch to send Peeta a bomb that could kill everyone except him and Prim, but I don't think that's allowed.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Gale saunters into the house, two dead turkeys over his shoulder.

Good. Something to keep my hands busy.

I don't respond to his jibe even though it shreds my nerves like a potato peeler. How dare he? How dare he suggest that I like Peeta in that way? I told Gale I'd marry him, we've grown up together, we've kissed and planned a wedding ceremony together, and I proudly wear on my finger the wooden ring he carved for me.

Yet he doubts me.

It's so…un-Gale like.

Okay, never mind. I'm not going to ignore his jibe. "What's wrong with you? Is it so evil of me to hope that he'll save my sister's life?"

"You're not just hoping, Katniss." He slams a metal bucket in front of me and flops onto our dusty couch, tossing me a turkey. "You obsess over him."

"Because he's Prim's only hope!" I rip a fistful of turkey feathers out and throw them into the bucket. It brings little satisfaction as they just flutter around, some onto the floor. "What do you want me to do?"

"You can't control the Games. Just come out hunting with me instead—"

"And what if Prim dies while I'm out there?" I squeak on the last word, but I force myself not to think about it. No…she's going to win. Peeta will make sure she wins. "What if Mom's all alone in this house, watching Prim die, and then holing up again?"

"You can't help that." His voice is low and, though he rips out feathers by the handful he does it gently, as though the bird is still alive. "You're with me, now. You can't help your mom. If she holes up again, we'll take care of her, but that's all we can do."

"So that's it? We just walk around and, if my little sister gets stabbed in the back then we'll just go on living as a happy couple while my mother goes crazy?" I hold the turkey, limp in my hand. "What about me Gale? You think I'll recover? You think Ill just be able to go on and be a happy little hunting wife?"

He stares at the floor. "I see what you're saying. I won't be enough for you."

"For heaven's sake!" Men. How absurd! "This isn't about that. This is about trying to move past what's happening in our lives."

"And what if Prim dies and Peeta comes back fine? Then what?"

What if Prim dies…dies…dies… His words echo in my mind and he must see something in my face because his arms drop. "I'm sorry, Katniss. That was…that was stupid."

Yes, yes it was.

He lets the turkey fall to the floor and then wraps his arms around me, but I'm a statue—internally and externally. I don't understand Gale. I can't understand him today and it's the first time that's ever happened to me.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. Let's just…let's just move on, okay?" He gestures toward the screen. "You're right. Peeta will get Prim home. I know he will."

But turning back to the screen brings no comfort, because there's my sister, holding Peeta's hand on one side and Rue's on the other. And Foxface is behind them, tightening the straps on her weapon backpack.

My little duck and the boy with the bread are walking to their deaths.

.

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To be continued...

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How would you live if you knew the day you'd die? Parvin Blackwater believes she has wasted her life. At only seventeen, she has one year left according to the Clock by her bedside. In a last-ditch effort to make a difference, she tries to rescue Radicals from the government's crooked justice system. But when the authorities find out about her illegal activity, they cast her through the Wall - her people's death sentence. What she finds on the other side about the world, about eternity, and about herself changes Parvin forever and might just save her people. But her clock is running out.