For once I have nothing of relevance to put in my author's note. Weird.

To put it mildly, the first day of training does not go well. At all. In addition to their less-than-positive responses, the Careers now watch Peeta and I at everything we attempt. Storm, who I've decided is the worst person I know, does nothing to hide her laughter. Nolan and Thunder simply look judgmental, while Turquoise tends to respond with undecipherable gestures whenever we catch her staring. There is no winning here. We've lost what little chance we might have had at "allies", and now we're probably at the top of their kill list. Peeta insists there isn't a kill list and it will be done in order of convenience. I insist that if anyone in the world does have a kill list, it's going to be Storm, because she's off the fucking wall and way too good with weaponry.

Not surprisingly, I'm in a bad mood when we return to the penthouse. I retreat to my room and take dinner there, refusing to talk to Peeta and even Gale. It's Haymitch who coaxes me out, not at all politely. He bangs on my door until it's impossible to ignore. I fling it open and stare him down, probably looking just as feral as I feel.

"Blondie told me it didn't go well," Haymitch says flatly. How is he not slurring his words or tripping over himself? I saw him pound all those drinks this morning. Haymitch is an enigma, an enigma of drunkenness.

"That's an understatement."

"I should have known you'd find a way to mess this up," he sighs, eyes raised to the heavens. "Come on. Strategy meeting."

Strategy meeting sounds like the worst thing in the world right now, but I remind myself that this isn't just about me. I might want to give up, but Peeta still depends (sort of) on me for survival, and disappointing other people is a fate worse than death.

Everyone else is already sat down at the table, as usual. Also as usual, everyone looks mad. I can't blame them. I'm sure my face is just as hostile. I start in on them before anyone can start in on me. "I'm not doing it," I announce. "They're crazy. I won't do it."

Haymitch is gnashing his teeth. "Now, hold on-"

"It wasn't all that bad, Katniss," Peeta argues.

I stare at him, as if I cannot possibly believe those words are coming out of his mouth. "Are you being serious? Did you not see Turquoise trying to balance an ax on her head? Did you miss Storm threatening to kill us in our sleep?"

"Well…I didn't say it was good," he says defensively.

"I'm not doing it," I say for the third time. I need to cling strongly to this stance, or they'll talk to me into changing my mind. "It's a terrible idea. Even if they agreed to ally with us- which they didn't- we'd never be able to trust them! We can find different allies."

Haymitch shakes his head. "No, don't you get it? The Careers are the only ones who can protect you."

"Protect me?" I repeat. "They're the ones I need protection from!"

"Not if they're your allies!"

"We asked to join their alliance!" Peeta bursts out. "And they turned us down. We need a new plan!"

Haymitch just sneers at him. "So you ask one time, and you just give up? I thought you, of all people, would understand the value of persistence."

"What do you mean by that?!" I demand. I turn to Peeta, and he seems no more interested in answering me than Haymitch does.

As a last resort, I turn to Gale, who has always seen this particular issue my way, but he looks away. "I'm with Haymitch on this one, Catnip. Teaming up with the Careers is what's best for you."

"What?" I demand. I am completely thrown off my guard. And angry. Very angry. I forget the rules, everything that's kept us apart thus far, and dig my nails into his arm. "Can I talk to you in private?"

I don't give him a chance to say no. I drag him to the nearest bedroom- I think it's his, but I don't really care if it isn't- and slam the door behind us. "What do you mean "you're with Haymitch"?!" I demand. "The two of you never agree on anything! I thought you were with me!"

Gale seems more irritated than anything else. "I get why you're mad, Catnip. But when Haymitch explained it to me…it's just the smartest move you could make."

I glare at him. He doesn't sound like himself at all. "What did he say to you? What made you change your mind?"

He shakes his head. "That doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

Another head shake. I know already that he's not going to give anything away. Gale is the only person in the world more stubborn than me; that's a known fact.

Instead, he asks, "Do you trust me?"

Somewhat reluctantly, I nod.

"Then trust me when I say you need to ally yourself with the Careers. If you want any chance of surviving at all."

I do trust Gale. I really do. But does he even realize what he's asking?

"And Katniss…"

Oh boy. It's never a good sign that he's calling me by my actual name.

"…you and I need to break up."

Once again, I'm stunned into silence.

"With everything that's going on right now…I'm sure you understand," he finishes lamely. "I can't be anything more than your mentor. We just- we have bigger things to worry about."

I'm fully aware of the bigger things we have to worry about. I just assumed we would worry about them together.

It's lucky for Gale, probably, that I can't find my voice right now. If I could produce coherent words right now, they would not be very nice. But they would be loud. Very loud.

When I finally pull myself together, I just say, "fine," making sure to put a noticeable edge to my tone. "It's over, then. I mean, how long has it been since we were really together, anyway?"

I storm out of the room, hoping to retain a little bit of my dignity. Haymitch tries to flag me down again, but I will not have it this time. I go to my room and slam the door, ignoring his insistence that we were in the middle of a meeting and he needs to talk to me. I don't care. He can yell at me until his voice goes out; I will not listen.

I don't think what I'm feeling is heartbreak, but it sure isn't pleasant.

It seems so petty, for Gale to abandon me now. After everything else we've been through…this? Really? After everything I've done for him. It makes me so angry I can't see straight.

I sit sulkily in my room, waiting for the rest of the penthouse to go silent. Only then do I make a break for it, to the roof, the most secluded place within my reach. No one follows me this time. I didn't expect anyone to.

There are no stars. I don't stay long. I return to my room, alone, where I enjoy a fitful night's sleep.

§

Haymitch is not thrilled to see me when I emerge at breakfast time the next morning. "Ah, she lives!" he drawls, visibly already pretty far gone. I guess it's only fair. It is nearly eight o'clock, after all. "You know what I'm gonna do if you pull another disappearing act like that, Everdeen? Do ya?"

"What, put me in an arena full of kids and make me kill 'em?" I ask sarcastically. The walls are up. I'm not going to take crap from Haymitch or anybody else. I ignore Effie's disapproving tsk-tsk and pour myself a glass of orange juice.

I'm hoping for a quiet-if-awkward breakfast, but Peeta insists on breaking the ice. "So. Are we clear on the plan for today?"

"I'm-" I stop before I get very far. Gale is staring at me- not just at me, into me, and it has an annoying effect on me. No matter how hurt I am, how determined I am to ignore him for the rest of my probably-short life, I cannot ignore a look like that.

I remember how earnest he looked when he asked if I trusted him. I do trust him, don't I? Maybe more than I trust anyone else. Maybe, despite some obvious errors in judgment, he said what he said for a reason.

Besides, anytime Haymitch and Gale agree on something…

"Yes," I say eventually. "We are clear."

Haymitch makes a grunting noise that I think indicates approval. "Thank you for that. Finally. Do you realize how difficult you've made things?"

"I don't do it on purpose," I say flatly. "I'm not even the real problem, remember? The Careers don't want us as allies!"

"So convince them!" Effie puts in. As if that's something we can just do. The woman is completely clueless."Both of you- well, um, Peeta is very charming! Surely you can convince them you'd be an asset to their team."

"But we're not supposed to show them our talents," I point out, more to be difficult than anything else.

"I told you not to show your best talent. I was assuming you had more than one," Haymitch says dryly.

I throw my hands in the air. "I have archery. Take it or leave it!"

"I really think it would be best if that stayed a secret weapon," says Gale, chewing on a piece of toast thoughtfully.

As much as I don't want to agree with him right now, I do. "Exactly. Whether the Careers ally with us or not, I don't want them to know everything about me. We need a plan B!"

"Plan B is go fuck yourself!" Haymitch snaps.

Peeta smacks a hand on the table, rattling the silverware. "You are all just terrible, you know that?" He leaves breakfast unfinished and turns around. "I'm going to see if Atala will coach me on swordsmanship."

There's a moment where I don't know what to say or what to do. I retrieve my senses quickly and go after him- he'd do the same for me, wouldn't he? And I am not in a place where I can lose Peeta. Not after everything else.

I catch up to him just before the elevator. He gives me a sour look and doesn't say anything, which makes me incredibly guilty. Peeta is one of the kindest, most optimistic people I know- seeing him in a bad mood is no more natural than Effie's latest hair color. "Hey, wait!"

Somewhat reluctant, he holds the elevator for me. Unlike me, he has already mastered the enormous panel of buttons. "Oh. You're here."

"Of course I'm here," I huff. "It's not every day you storm out of a room indignantly. Normally that's my department."

My attempt at humor does nothing to lighten the mood. If anything, the mood gets heavier. Peeta sighs heavily as the elevator sinks downwards. "I just…Katniss. How can we hope to win the Games if we can't even get along with each other? This is supposed to be the easy part. And it's been horrific."

I wince, but there's no denying the truth in his words. "Well…I know tensions are a bit high," I try to reason. "And this isn't exactly your typical, uh, scenario."

Part of me means that it's a Quarter Quell and not a regular Hunger Games, but most of me is referring to the tangled mess of relationships between the representatives form District Twelve. A pair of tributes that were once best friends, but one tribute is in love with her mentor but that mentor specifically hates the other tribute, and also the mentors hate each other. If that's normal I don't want anything to do with it.

"Well…maybe," Peeta sort of concedes. "I just don't think we have a chance."

"I don't either," I admit. I remember Storm shredding that dummy yesterday. How can we compete with that? "But we can't just give up."

Even though Peeta is the only reason I have not just given up so far. It's much easier to encourage him than it is to encourage myself.

"Just think of your family," I try. When I have felt hopeless, it's been Prim that kept me going. "Think of how much they want you to come home."

Peeta just snorts. "Right. I'd be better off thinking of your family."

I remember, with distinct notes of shame, the days when Peeta had more or less been a part of my family. Why had I ever let that go? Because Gale had told me to? It seems like such a poor decision now. I try to remember how I had justified it back then, and nothing comes to mind.

"My family is your family," I promise him. "If we win and go home, I won't let anything get in the way of that again."

I pause, realizing he might as well hear the truth. "…which shouldn't be that hard, because Gale dumped me last night."

"He what?" Peeta exclaims.

The elevator dings and the door opens. "Don't say anything!" I order. I can't risk any of the other tributes or staff overhearing that little tidbit. In addition to the obvious consequences from the Capitol, I don't want to go down in history as the tribute who was fucking her mentor. "Girl On Fire" suits me much better.

Despite my explicit instructions to say nothing, Peeta seems intent on marveling at my revelation. "Oh, wow, Katniss," he says as we walk down the hall to the training center. "I didn't- I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine," I reply through gritted teeth. "Just stop talking."

"No, really, are you okay?" he asks. He sounds so sincere but he's still driving me nuts.

"It's the least of my problems."

"You don't have to say that. If you ever want to talk about it…"

"I do not want to talk about it," I tell him vehemently. "We have bigger things to worry about."

I had no intention of reusing Gale's breakup line, but there's no denying it is effective. Maybe that's why he used it on me in the first place. Peeta nods quietly. "Right. Let's show them what we're really made of."

Except not really, because we need to save a secret weapon for the arena. If I can't shoot arrows, I don't know what I'm supposed to do to impress the Careers. Stupid Haymitch. He should be grateful Peeta and I have any marketable skills.

I'm glad we're there early instead of late this time. There are no tributes in here yet, just staff. It's oddly peaceful for a room filled with weapons of war.

"Well," I say. "Where should we start?"

Peeta suggests spear-throwing again, and I agree. It's certainly a weak spot in my skill set, and we are supposed to be learning all we can. We both have a lot to learn in this area.

All goes well until the rest of the tributes show up. Our little window of peace (if you can count chucking spears as "peace") is shattered. Storm has that same smirk on her face, the one that means she's better than everyone else and we should all die, and I know she is the one we really have to impress if we want to be welcomed into the pack. I throw my next barbed spear with extra ferocity, hoping to make some kind of positive impression, but she just laughs.

Nolan shoots us a pained look. I remember that he stood up for us yesterday, wanted to let us in, if only because he was so distressed at having Turquoise for a teammate. I wonder, briefly, if we could convince Nolan to abandon the Careers and ally solely with District Twelve. I dismiss that idea immediately. He wouldn't leave Storm- not if he has any common sense. He has everything to gain by teaming up with her, and everything to lose by deserting.

I consider making the opposite move and trying to seduce just District One away from the pack, but that's not any more likely to work. Thunder doesn't seem to want to say anything that would jeopardize his alliance with Storm or Nolan, and Turquoise is so unhinged it's debatable if she's at all useful as an ally anyway.

No, it will have to be all or nothing. And Haymitch has made it very clear he wants us to have "all".

I act like I'm ignoring the Careers, but in reality, I'm always half-watching them, and they're half-watching me. It makes it hard to concentrate, and it's hard enough as it is. One could argue that I have a natural talent with weapons, with fighting- but I'm used to the quiet and privacy of the woods. An audience- however little they might care about me- is extremely detrimental.

It doesn't help, either, that Peeta picks up every new skill like it's as easy as breathing. We've never been competitive with each other- it's never been applicable- but I'm suddenly feeling that way now. Of course this happens when we're explicitly working as a team. My feelings are never not destructive.

Sanity comes in the form of the knot-tying station. After the struggle with spears and a frankly embarrassing attempt at hatchet throwing, there's incredible relief in doing something I already have a little bit of experience with. Granted, even the best icicle hitch will do nothing to impress the Careers, but it does knock the socks off Kinzie, the girl from Eleven, who insists she's never seen anyone's fingers move so fast. She- along with her district partner, Emmer- is still tagging along behind the tributes from District Seven. Interesting.

We tie knots until lunchtime, and by then, my hands are beginning to cramp, so it's actually a relief to grab cafeteria trays and sit down. At Peeta's insistence, we join the Careers once again, even though they've given us no sign they will even tolerate our presence.

"Back for more?" Storm asks drily. Of all of them, she looks the most harried from the morning of training. Her black hair is loose and wild around her shoulders, and, disturbingly, there's a smear of what looks like blood on her cheek. Whether it's her own or someone else's, why would she not wipe that off?

I answer my own question: because she wants to intimidate us. Peeta and I and everyone in this room.

"You're just such good company, Storm; we couldn't stay away," Peeta says in a clipped tone. "Just know that our offer to join you stands."

I can tell it bothers her, that she's not getting to him. I don't know if it's for better or worse for us that Peeta does not waver, but there is undeniably something fun about watching her go a little bit nuts.

…as if she wasn't already crazy, I guess. That's something to think about too.

Storm recovers quickly and sneers at us- she really seems to only have the one expression. "Why would we want a bunch of losers like you in our pack? Gonna tie some knots for us? Maybe fight off an attacker the size of a cat? I watched you, with the hatchets? Trust me, you can't keep up with us."

"At least we weren't hanging off the climbing wall and yelling about fish," I retort. It's a cheap shot, and it makes Storm's pale face turn a little bit purple, but I cannot bring myself to regret it at all.

"I second that," Nolan grumbles.

"Shut up, Nolan," Storm orders.

His face hardens, and I wonder for a second if he might refuse to take orders from her. Career hierarchy is a delicate thing- it's happened plenty of times before that, in the arena, they'll kill each other over who's supposed to be in charge. Thunder and Turquoise seem more or less complacent to leadership, but both from District Two seem to be vying for it.

In the end, though, Nolan yields. "You know what, Storm? You're not worth fighting with."

"You'd think you would have learned that a long time ago," she declares in, as usual, a not-very-nice tone. That proves me right, though- I knew they knew each other.

Turquoise looks up from whatever she was doing- stacking her carrot sticks on top of each other, I think- and stares directly at Peeta and me. "Which one of you is in charge?"

I don't know if it's really worth answering her, but Peeta bumps me with his elbow. "Her, probably."

"We're equals," I say.

Turquoise shakes her head, as if I have given the wrong answer and disappointed her greatly. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't be equals- that's not how it works!"

"That's how it works for us," I reply in a clipped tone. "And you don't know anything about us."

"Of course I do!" she declares. She points to me and Peeta alternately. "You don't have a dad…you're in love with her…your left foot is slightly bigger than the right…your favorite food is spaghetti…and you can't spell 'Czechoslovakia'."

I bristle at first, but lower my hackles quickly. Mentioning my father- who was killed six years ago in a mine accident- is a great way to start a fight with me, but I should have known she was just spouting nonsense. It seems to be her thing.

"Turquoise, no one can spell 'Czechoslovakia'," Nolan says wearily.

"I can!" she says brightly, rattling off the letters quickly. Storm stabs into her salad with increasing force.

I glance at Peeta, and he looks just as frustrated and red-faced as I feel. Once again, we're getting nowhere- if anything, we're making it worse.

"So what are we doing after lunch?" Peeta tries.

Storm snarls at him before he can even finish the sentence. "You're. Not. Invited!"

Even though I completely expected that reaction, I flinch back. I have a good poker face, but she is scary.

Peeta shrugs. Somehow, he does not flinch. "Just asking. If you were to ever change your mind."

Please, please, change your mind…

Her blue eyes narrow and she leans forward, shrinking the gap between us. "Do I look like the kind of person who changes her mind, Twelve?"

Peeta is forced to shake his head. What she does look like is a person who kills dogs for fun, but I don't think it would be constructive to say that.

"I don't know what your problem is, Storm," Nolan declares. I think he's trying to lighten the mood, but I'm not sure.

"They're useless and we don't need them," she retorts. I'm not sure if that's meant to be an explanation or just an insult.

"You don't have to tell us twice," I snap, although realistically they have told us much more than twice. "C'mon, Peeta. Let's go."

Turquoise flicks peas at us as we go. Unfortunately, in the small lunch room, we can't truly get out of her range, and she's an annoyingly good aim. Just another reminder she'll be deadly in the arena. She'll probably end up winning- she is both unhinged and talented, two incredibly valuable qualities.

Peeta and I eat in silence, aside from the occasional thwack of a pea. There's a lot I could say, maybe even should say, but I cannot find the words. As usual, it's Peeta who speaks up, who knows what to say. "She got to you, didn't she?"

"Which one?" I ask darkly. He's not being very specific, and I could easily make a case for any of the Careers being the reason I'm in a bad mood. Even Thunder, who didn't say a single word the entire time we were sitting next to him. I wish the others were more like him.

"Turquoise, I meant."

I shrug uncomfortably. I don't know if he means her attempt at "knowing everything about us" or pelting us with vegetables. Obviously, both of those things have had a negative effect on me. "A little, maybe."

"She bugs me too," says Peeta, as if it's a deep confession and not something everyone in this building has thought at some point. "…but I think it would only encourage her if she knew that."

I nod along. "…you know, I think that's the closest anyone's come to truly understanding her."

I really had a lot of fun writing the pre-Games training. I love the Katniss-Peeta-Effie-Haymitch-Gale banter, I should do a whole book of just that.