第119章

  “i had just
  had my eyebrows dyed!” “i swear i nearly fainted!” everything
  is about them, not the dying boys and girls in the arena.
  we don’t wallow around in the games this way in district
  12. we grit our teeth and watch because we must and try to
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  get back to business as soon as possible when they’re over. to
  keep from hating the prep team, i effectively tune out most of
  what they’re saying.
  cinna comes in with what appears to be an unassuming yel-
  low dress across his arms.
  “have you given up the whole ‘girl on fire’ thing?” i ask.
  “you tell me,” he says, and slips it over my head. i imme-
  diately notice the padding over my breasts, adding curves that
  hunger has stolen from my body. my hands go to my chest and
  i frown.
  “i know,” says cinna before i can object. “but the game-
  makers wanted to alter you surgically. haymitch had a huge
  fight with them over it. this was the compromise.” he stops
  me before i can look at my reflection. “wait, don’t forget the
  shoes.” venia helps me into a pair of flat leather sandals and i
  turn to the mirror.
  i am still the “girl on fire.” the sheer fabric softly glows.
  even the slight movement in the air sends a ripple up my
  body. by comparison, the chariot costume seems garish, the
  interview dress too contrived. in this dress, i give the illusion
  of wearing candlelight.
  “what do you think?” asks cinna.
  “i think it’s the best yet,” i say. when i manage to pull my
  eyes away from the flickering fabric, i’m in for something of a
  shock. my hair’s loose, held back by a simple hairband. the
  makeup rounds and fills out the sharp angles of my face. a
  clear polish coats my nails. the sleeveless dress is gathered at
  my ribs, not my waist, largely eliminating any help the pad-
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  ding would have given my figure. the hem falls just to my
  knees. without heels, you can see my true stature. i look, very
  simply, like a girl. a young one. fourteen at the most. inno-
  cent. harmless. yes, it is shocking that cinna has pulled this off
  when you remember i’ve just won the games.
  this is a very calculated look. nothing cinna designs is ar-
  bitrary. i bite my lip trying to figure out his motivation.
  “i thought it’d be something more . . . sophisticated-
  looking,” i say.
  “i thought peeta would like this better,” he answers careful-
  ly.
  peeta? no, it’s not about peeta. it’s about the capitol and
  the gamemakers and the audience. although i do not yet un-
  derstand cinna’s design, it’s a reminder the games are not
  quite finished. and beneath his benign reply, i sense a warn-
  ing. of something he can’t even mention in front of his own
  team.
  we take the elevator to the level where we trained. it’s cus-
  tomary for the victor and his or her support team to rise from
  beneath the stage. first the prep team, followed by the escort,
  the stylist, the mentor, and finally the victor. only this year,
  with two victors who share both an escort and a mentor, the
  whole thing has had to be rethought. i find myself in a poorly
  lit area under the stage. a brand-new metal plate has been in-
  stalled to transport me upward. you can still see small piles of
  sawdust, smell fresh paint. cinna and the prep team peel off to
  change into their own costumes and take their positions, leav-
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  ing me alone. in the gloom, i see a makeshift wall about ten
  yards away and assume peeta’s behind it.
  the rumbling of the crowd is loud, so i don’t notice hay-
  mitch until he touches my shoulder. i spring away, startled,
  still half in the arena, i guess.
  “easy, just me. let’s have a look at you,” haymitch says. i
  hold out my arms and turn once. “good enough.”
  it’s not much of a compliment. “but what?”