第36章

  effie trinket lets out a squeal, and everybody is slapping
  me on the back and cheering and congratulating me. but it
  doesn’t seem real.
  “there must be a mistake. how . . . how could that happen?”
  i ask haymitch.
  “guess they liked your temper,” he says. “they’ve got a
  show to put on. they need some players with some heat.”
  “katniss, the girl who was on fire,” says cinna and gives me
  a hug. “oh, wait until you see your interview dress.” “more
  flames?” i ask. “of a sort,” he says mischievously.
  peeta and i congratulate each other, another awkward
  moment. we’ve both done well, but what does that mean for
  the other? i escape to my room as quickly as possible and bur-
  row down under the covers. the stress of the day, particularly
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  the crying, has worn me out. i drift off, reprieved, relieved,
  and with the number eleven still flashing behind my eyelids.
  at dawn, i lie in bed for a while, watching the sun come up
  on a beautiful morning. it’s sunday. a day off at home. i won-
  der if gale is in the woods yet. usually we devote all of sunday
  to stocking up for the week. rising early, hunting and gather-
  ing, then trading at the hob. i think of gale without me. both
  of us can hunt alone, but we’re better as a pair. particularly if
  we’re trying for bigger game. but also in the littler things, hav-
  ing a partner lightened the load, could even make the arduous
  task of filling my family’s table enjoyable.
  i had been struggling along on my own for about six
  months when i first ran into gale in the woods. it was a sun-
  day in october, the air cool and pungent with dying things. i’d
  spent the morning competing with the squirrels for nuts and
  the slightly warmer afternoon wading in shallow ponds har-
  vesting katniss. the only meat i’d shot was a squirrel that had
  practically run over my toes in its quest for acorns, but the an-
  imals would still be afoot when the snow buried my other
  food sources. having strayed farther afield than usual, i was
  hurrying back home, lugging my burlap sacks when i came
  across a dead rabbit. it was hanging by its neck in a thin wire a
  foot above my head. about fifteen yards away was another. i
  recognized the twitch-up snares because my father had used
  them. when the prey is caught, it’s yanked into the air out of
  the reach of other hungry animals. i’d been trying to use
  snares all summer with no success, so i couldn’t help dropping
  my sacks to examine this one. my fingers were just on the wire
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  above one of the rabbits when a voice rang out. “that’s dan-
  gerous.”
  i jumped back several feet as gale materialized from be-
  hind a tree. he must have been watching me the whole time.
  he was only fourteen, but he cleared six feet and was as good
  as an adult to me. i’d seen him around the seam and at school.
  and one other time. he’d lost his father in the same blast that
  killed mine. in january, i’d stood by while he received his
  medal of valor in the justice building, another oldest child
  with no father. i remembered his two little brothers clutching
  his mother, a woman whose swollen belly announced she was
  just days away from giving birth.
  “what’s your name?” he said, coming over and disengaging
  the rabbit from the snare. he had another three hanging from
  his belt.
  “katniss,” i said, barely audible.
  “well, catnip, stealing’s punishable by death, or hadn’t you
  heard?” he said.
  “katniss,” i said louder. “and i wasn’t stealing it. i just
  wanted to look at your snare. mine never catch anything.”
  he scowled at me, not convinced. “so where’d you get the
  squirrel?”