Girl Talk. That Thing I've Always Been

I’m Stopped By The Sight Of Finnick Kissing Peeta.

It's More Complicated Than That. I Know Them. They're Not Evil Or Cruel. They're Not Even Smart. Hurting Them, It's Like Hurting Children.

Maybe . . . Because For The First Time . . . There Was A Chance I Could Keep Him,” I Say. “so Now That You've Got Me, What Are You Going To Do With Me?” “put You Somewhere You Can't Get Hurt.” And When He Kisses Me, People In The Room Actually Sigh.

But It's Posy, Gale's Five-year-old Sister, Who Helps The Most. She Scoots Along The Bench To Octavia And Touches Her Skin With A Tentative Finger. “you're Green. Are You Sick?” “it's A Fashion Thing, Posy. Like Wearing Lipstick,” I Say. “it's Meant To Be Pretty,” Whispers Octavia, And I Can See The Tears Threatening To Spill Over Her Lashes. Posy Considers This And Says Matter-of-factly, “i Think You'd Be Pretty In Any Color.

Peeta Smiles And Douses Haymitch's Knife In White Liquor From A Bottle On The Floor. He Wipes The Blade Clean On His Shirt Tail And Slices The Bread. Peeta Keeps All Of Us In Fresh Baked Goods. I Hunt. He Bakes. Haymitch Drinks. We Have Our Own Ways To Stay Busy, To Keep Thought Of Our Time As Contestants In The Hunger Games At Bay.