第25章

  is it alcohol?” i say, look-
  ing up at the girl. “that’s the last thing i wa — oh! i know
  you!”
  i can’t place a name or time to the girl’s face. but i’m certain
  of it. the dark red hair, the striking features, the porcelain
  white skin. but even as i utter the words, i feel my insides con-
  tracting with anxiety and guilt at the sight of her, and while i
  can’t pull it up, i know some bad memory is associated with
  her. the expression of terror that crosses her face only adds
  to my confusion and unease. she shakes her head in denial
  quickly and hurries away from the table.
  when i look back, the four adults are watching me like
  hawks.
  “don’t be ridiculous, katniss. how could you possibly know
  an avox?” snaps effie. “the very thought.”
  “what’s an avox?” i ask stupidly.
  “someone who committed a crime. they cut her tongue so
  she can’t speak,” says haymitch. “she’s probably a traitor of
  some sort. not likely you’d know her.”
  77
  “and even if you did, you’re not to speak to one of them un-
  less it’s to give an order,” says effie. “of course, you don’t real-
  ly know her.”
  but i do know her. and now that haymitch has mentioned
  the word traitor i remember from where. the disapproval is
  so high i could never admit it. “no, i guess not, i just —” i
  stammer, and the wine is not helping.
  peeta snaps his fingers. “delly cartwright. that’s who it is. i
  kept thinking she looked familiar as well. then i realized she’s
  a dead ringer for delly.”
  delly cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish
  hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does
  a butterfly. she may also be the friendliest person on the pla-
  net — she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me. i
  have never seen the girl with the red hair smile. but i jump on
  peeta’s suggestion gratefully. “of course, that’s who i was
  thinking of. it must be the hair,” i say.
  “something about the eyes, too,” says peeta.
  the energy at the table relaxes. “oh, well. if that’s all it is,”
  says cinna. “and yes, the cake has spirits, but all the alcohol
  has burned off. i ordered it specially in honor of your fiery de-
  but.”
  we eat the cake and move into a sitting room to watch the
  replay of the opening ceremonies that’s being broadcast. a
  few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of
  them can hold a candle to us. even our own party lets out an
  “ahh!” as they show us coming out of the remake center.
  “whose idea was the hand holding?” asks haymitch.
  78
  “cinna’s,” says portia.
  “just the perfect touch of rebellion,” says haymitch. “very
  nice.”
  rebellion? i have to think about that one a moment. but
  when i remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart,
  never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow
  tribute did not exist, as if the games had already begun, i
  know what haymitch means. presenting ourselves not as ad-
  versaries but as friends has distinguished us as much as the
  fiery costumes.
  “tomorrow morning is the first training session. meet me
  for breakfast and i’ll tell you exactly how i want you to play
  it,” says haymitch to peeta and i. “now go get some sleep
  while the grown-ups talk.”
  peeta and i walk together down the corridor to our rooms.
  when we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not
  blocking my entrance exactly but insisting i pay attention to
  him. “so, delly cartwright. imagine finding her lookalike
  here.”
  he’s asking for an explanation, and i’m tempted to give him
  one. we both know he covered for me. so here i am in his debt
  again. if i tell him the truth about the girl, somehow that might
  even things up. how can it hurt really?