第35章

  the horror in effie’s
  voice confirms my worse suspicions.
  “i shot an arrow at them. not exactly at them. in their direc-
  tion. it’s like peeta said, i was shooting and they were ignoring
  me and i just . . . i just lost my head, so i shot an apple out of
  their stupid roast pig’s mouth!” i say defiantly.
  “and what did they say?” says cinna carefully.
  “nothing. or i don’t know. i walked out after that,” i say.
  “without being dismissed?” gasps effie.
  “i dismissed myself,” i said. i remember how i promised
  prim that i really would try to win and i feel like a ton of coal
  has dropped on me.
  “well, that’s that,” says haymitch. then he butters a roll.
  “do you think they’ll arrest me?” i ask. “doubt it. be a pain
  to replace you at this stage,” says haymitch.
  “what about my family?” i say. “will they punish them?”
  “don’t think so. wouldn’t make much sense. see they’d
  have to reveal what happened in the training center for it to
  have any worthwhile effect on the population. people would
  need to know what you did. but they can’t since it’s secret, so
  it’d be a waste of effort,” says haymitch. “more likely they’ll
  make your life hell in the arena.”
  “well, they’ve already promised to do that to us any way,”
  says peeta.
  106
  “very true,” says haymitch. and i realize the impossible has
  happened. they have actually cheered me up. haymitch picks
  up a pork chop with his fingers, which makes effie frown, and
  dunks it in his wine. he rips off a hunk of meat and starts to
  chuckle. “what were their faces like?”
  i can feel the edges of my mouth tilting up. “shocked. terri-
  fied. uh, ridiculous, some of them.” an image pops into my
  mind. “one man tripped backward into a bowl of punch.”
  haymitch guffaws and we all start laughing except effie, al-
  though even she is suppressing a smile. “well, it serves them
  right. it’s their job to pay attention to you. and just because
  you come from district twelve is no excuse to ignore you.”
  then her eyes dart around as if she’s said something totally
  outrageous. “i’m sorry, but that’s what i think,” she says to no
  one in particular.
  “i’ll get a very bad score,” i say.
  “scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much
  attention to the bad or mediocre ones. for all they know, you
  could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose.
  people use that strategy,” said portia.
  “i hope that’s how people interpret the four i’ll probably
  get,” says peeta. “if that. really, is anything less impressive
  than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a
  couple of yards. one almost landed on my foot.”
  i grin at him and realize that i’m starving. i cut off a piece of
  pork, dunk it in mashed potatoes, and start eating. it’s okay.
  my family is safe. and if they are safe, no real harm has been
  done.
  107
  after dinner, we go to sitting room to watch the scores an-
  nounced on television. first they show a photo of the tribute,
  then flash their score below it. the career tributes naturally
  get in the eight-to-ten range. most of the other players aver-
  age a five. surprisingly, little rue comes up with a seven. i
  don’t know what she showed the judges, but she’s so tiny it
  must have been impressive.
  district 12 comes up last, as usual. peeta pulls an eight so at
  least a couple of the gamemakers must have been watching
  him. i dig my fingernails into my palms as my face comes up,
  expecting the worst. then they’re flashing the number eleven
  on the screen.
  eleven!