第43章

  i bet half the sponsors are at
  least considering him. if i had any money, i’d bet on him my-
  self.
  and then they’re calling katniss everdeen, and i feel myself,
  as if in a dream, standing and making my way center stage. i
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  shake caesar’s outstretched hand, and he has the good grace
  not to immediately wipe his off on his suit.
  “so, katniss, the capitol must be quite a change from dis-
  trict twelve. what’s impressed you most since you arrived
  here?” asks caesar.
  what? what did he say? it’s as if the words make no sense.
  my mouth has gone as dry as sawdust. i desperately find
  cinna in the crowd and lock eyes with him. i imagine the
  words coming from his lips. “what’s impressed you most since
  you arrived here?” i rack my brain for something that made
  me happy here. be honest, i think. be honest.
  “the lamb stew,” i get out.
  caesar laughs, and vaguely i realize some of the audience
  has joined in.
  “the one with the dried plums?” asks caesar. i nod. “oh, i
  eat it by the bucketful.” he turns sideways to the audience in
  horror, hand on his stomach. “it doesn’t show, does it?” they
  shout reassurances to him and applaud. this is what i mean
  about caesar. he tries to help you out.
  “now, katniss,” he says confidentially, “when you came out
  in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. what
  did you think of that costume?”
  cinna raises one eyebrow at me. be honest. “you mean af-
  ter i got over my fear of being burned alive?” i ask.
  big laugh. a real one from the audience.
  “yes. start then,” says caesar.
  cinna, my friend, i should tell him anyway. “i thought cinna
  was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume i’d ever
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  seen and i couldn’t believe i was wearing it. i can’t believe i’m
  wearing this, either.” i lift up my skirt to spread it out. “i mean,
  look at it!”
  as the audience oohs and ahs, i see cinna make the tiniest
  circular motion with his finger. but i know what he’s saying.
  twirl for me.
  i spin in a circle once and the reaction is immediate.
  “oh, do that again!” says caesar, and so i lift up my arms
  and spin around and around letting the skirt fly out, letting
  the dress engulf me in flames. the audience breaks into
  cheers. when i stop, i clutch caesar’s arm.
  “don’t stop!” he says.
  “i have to, i’m dizzy!” i’m also giggling, which i think i’ve
  done maybe never in my lifetime. but the nerves and the
  spinning have gotten to me.
  caesar wraps a protective arm around me. “don’t worry,
  i’ve got you. can’t have you following in your mentor’s foot-
  steps.”
  everyone’s hooting as the cameras find haymitch, who is
  by now famous for his head dive at the reaping, and he waves
  them away good-naturedly and points back to me.
  “it’s all right,” caesar reassures the crowd. “she’s safe with
  me. so, how about that training score. e-le-ven. give us a hint
  what happened in there.”
  i glance at the gamemakers on the balcony and bite my lip.
  “um . . . all i can say, is i think it was a first.”
  the cameras are right on the gamemakers, who are chuck-
  ling and nodding.
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  “you’re killing us,” says caesar as if in actual pain. “details.
  details.”
  i address the balcony. “i’m not supposed to talk about it,
  right?”
  the gamemaker who fell in the punch bowl shouts out,
  “she’s not!”
  “thank you,” i say. “sorry. my lips are sealed.”
  “let’s go back then, to the moment they called your sister’s
  name at the reaping,” says caesar. his mood is quieter now.
  “and you volunteered. can you tell us about her?”