One time, my mother told me that I always eat like I'll never see food again. And I said, "I won't unless I bring it home." That shut her up.

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.

It's weird, how much he's noticed me... And apparently, I have not been as oblivious to him as I imagined, either.

How are you managing? And don't say you're fine." It's true. Whatever the opposite of fine is, that's what I am.

My words hang in the air. I look to the screen, hoping to see them recording some wave of reconciliation going through the crowd. Instead I watch myself get shot on television.

For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.

Peeta?" I creep along the bank. "Well, don't step on me.