第37章

  “i shot it.” i pulled my bow off my shoulder. i was still using
  the small version my father had made me, but i’d been practic-
  ing with the full-size one when i could. i was hoping that by
  spring i might be able to bring down some bigger game.
  gale’s eyes fastened on the bow. “can i see that?” i handed
  it over. “just remember, stealing’s punishable by death.”
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  that was the first time i ever saw him smile. it transformed
  him from someone menacing to someone you wished you
  knew. but it took several months before i returned that smile.
  we talked hunting then. i told him i might be able to get
  him a bow if he had something to trade. not food. i wanted
  knowledge. i wanted to set my own snares that caught a belt
  of fat rabbits in one day. he agreed something might be
  worked out. as the seasons went by, we grudgingly began to
  share our knowledge, our weapons, our secret places that
  were thick with wild plums or turkeys. he taught me snares
  and fishing. i showed him what plants to eat and eventually
  gave him one of our precious bows. and then one day, without
  either of us saying it, we became a team. dividing the work
  and the spoils. making sure that both our families had food.
  gale gave me a sense of security i’d lacked since my father’s
  death. his companionship replaced the long solitary hours in
  the woods. i became a much better hunter when i didn’t have
  to look over my shoulder constantly, when someone was
  watching my back. but he turned into so much more than a
  hunting partner. he became my confidante, someone with
  whom i could share thoughts i could never voice inside the
  fence. in exchange, he trusted me with his. being out in the
  woods with gale . . . sometimes i was actually happy.
  i call him my friend, but in the last year it’s seemed too ca-
  sual a word for what gale is to me. a pang of longing shoots
  through my chest. if only he was with me now! but, of course,
  i don’t want that. i don’t want him in the arena where he’d be
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  dead in a few days. i just . . . i just miss him. and i hate being
  so alone. does he miss me? he must.
  i think of the eleven flashing under my name last night. i
  know exactly what he’d say to me. “well, there’s some room
  for improvement there.” and then he’d give me a smile and i’d
  return it without hesitating now.
  i can’t help comparing what i have with gale to what i’m
  pretending to have with peeta. how i never question gale’s
  motives while i do nothing but doubt the latter’s. it’s not a fair
  comparison really. gale and i were thrown together by a mu-
  tual need to survive. peeta and i know the other’s survival
  means our own death. how do you sidestep that?
  effie’s knocking at the door, reminding me there’s another
  “big, big, big day!” ahead. tomorrow night will be our tele-
  vised interviews. i guess the whole team will have their hands
  full readying us for that.
  i get up and take a quick shower, being a bit more careful
  about the buttons i hit, and head down to the dining room.
  peeta, effie, and haymitch are huddled around the table talk-
  ing in hushed voices. that seems odd, but hunger wins out
  over curiosity and i load up my plate with breakfast before i
  join them.
  the stew’s made with tender chunks of lamb and dried
  plums today. perfect on the bed of wild rice. i’ve shoveled
  about halfway through the mound when i realize no one’s
  talking. i take a big gulp of orange juice and wipe my mouth.
  “so, what’s going on?