I Flee What I Can't Fight. What

But Because Two Can Play At This Game, I Stand On Tiptoe And Kiss His Cheek. Right On His Bruise.

Four People Wheel Out A Huge Wedding Cake From A Side Room. Most Of The Guests Back Up, Making Way For This Rarity, This Dazzling Creation With Blue-green, White-tipped Icing Waves Swimming With Fish And Sailboats, Seals And Sea Flowers. But I Push My Way Through The Crowd To Confirm What I Knew At First Sight. As Surely As The Embroidery Stitches In Annie's Gown Were Done By Cinna's Hand, The Frosted Flowers On The Cake Were Done By Peeta's.

I Don't Know How To Make People Like Me. Cinna, How Do You Make People Like You?

A Light Was On In The Kitchen. His Mother Sat At The Kitchen Table, As Still As A Statue. Her Hands Were Clasped Together, And She Stared Fixatedly At A Small Stain On The Tablecloth. Gregor Remembered Seeing Her That Way So Many Nights After His Dad Had Disappeared. He Didn't Know What To Say. He Didn't Want To Scare Her Or Shock Her Or Ever Give Her Any More Pain. So, He Stepped Into The Light Of The Kitchen And Said The One Thing He Knew She Wanted To Hear Most In The World. "hey, Mom. We're Home.

They're A Little Strange, But I'm Pretty Sure Neither Of Them Is Going To Try To Make Me Uncomfortable By Stripping Naked.