I stand there, feeling broken and small, thousands of eyes trained on me.

Beetee is still messing round the tree, doing I don't know what. At one point he snaps off a sliver of bark, joins us, and throws it against the force field. It bounces back and lands on the ground, glowing. In a few moments it returns to its original color. "Well, that explains a lot," says Beetee. I look at Peeta and can't help biting my lip to keep from laughing since it explains absolutely nothing to anyone but Beetee.

Maybe I'll be like that man in "The Hanging Tree'. Still waiting for an answer.

Even if times got bad, he would never again deny himself the possibility that the future might be happy even if the present was painful. He would allow himself dreams.

Peeta smiles at me, sad and mocking. "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart.

What about Gale?" "He's not a bad kisser either," I say shortly. "And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?" He asks. "No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission," I tell him. Peeta laughs again, coldly, dismissively. "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?

There's a chance that the old Peeta, the one who loves you, is still inside. Trying to get back to you. Don't give up on him.