第124章

  “fine. nervous about the interview,” i say.
  “don’t be. we’re going to have a fabulous time,” he says,
  giving my cheek a reassuring pat.
  “i’m not good at talking about myself,” i say.
  “nothing you say will be wrong,” he says.
  and i think, oh, caesar, if only that were true. but actually,
  president snow may be arranging some sort of “accident” for
  me as we speak.
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  then peeta’s there looking handsome in red and white,
  pulling me off to the side. “i hardly get to see you. haymitch
  seems bent on keeping us apart.”
  haymitch is actually bent on keeping us alive, but there are
  too many ears listening, so i just say, “yes, he’s gotten very re-
  sponsible lately.”
  “well, there’s just this and we go home. then he can’t watch
  us all the time,” says peeta.
  i feel a sort of shiver run through me and there’s no time to
  analyze why, because they’re ready for us. we sit somewhat
  formally on the love seat, but caesar says, “oh, go ahead and
  curl up next to him if you want. it looked very sweet.” so i tuck
  my feet up and peeta pulls me in close to him.
  someone counts backward and just like that, we’re being
  broadcast live to the entire country. caesar flickerman is
  wonderful, teasing, joking, getting choked up when the occa-
  sion presents itself. he and peeta already have the rapport
  they established that night of the first interview, that easy
  banter, so i just smile a lot and try to speak as little as possi-
  ble. i mean, i have to talk some, but as soon as i can i redirect
  the conversation back to peeta.
  eventually though, caesar begins to pose questions that in-
  sist on fuller answers. “well, peeta, we know, from our days in
  the cave, that it was love at first sight for you from what, age
  five?” caesar says.
  “from the moment i laid eyes on her,” says peeta.
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  “but, katniss, what a ride for you. i think the real excite-
  ment for the audience was watching you fall for him. when
  did you realize you were in love with him?” asks caesar.
  “oh, that’s a hard one . . .” i give a faint, breathy laugh and
  look down at my hands. help.
  “well, i know when it hit me. the night when you shouted
  out his name from that tree,” says caesar.
  thank you, caesar! i think, and then go with his idea. “yes, i
  guess that was it. i mean, until that point, i just tried not to
  think about what my feelings might be, honestly, because it
  was so confusing and it only made things worse if i actually
  cared about him. but then, in the tree, everything changed,” i
  say.
  “why do you think that was?” urges caesar.
  “maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance
  i could keep him,” i say.
  behind a cameraman, i see haymitch give a sort of huff
  with relief and i know i’ve said the right thing. caesar pulls
  out a handkerchief and has to take a moment because he’s so
  moved. i can feel peeta press his forehead into my temple and
  he asks, “so now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do
  with me?”
  i turn in to him. “put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.”
  and when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.
  for caesar, this is a natural place to segue into all the ways
  we did get hurt in the arena, from burns, to stings, to wounds.
  but it’s not until we get around to the mutts that i forget i’m
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  on camera. when caesar asks peeta how his “new leg” is
  working out.
  “new leg?”