At once, it’s clear I cannot gush. We try me playing cocky, but I just don’t have the arrogance. Apparently, I’m too “vulnerable” for ferocity. I’m not witty. Funny. Sexy. Or mysterious By the end of the session, I am no one at all.

What? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy.

Well, I don't have much competition here." "You don't have much competition anywhere.

I vote yes....for Prim.

Peeta" I said "Stay with me" I heard him say one word before the drigs pulled me under, I realised later that what he said was 'always

I go back to my room and lie under the covers, trying not to think of Gale and thinking of nothing else.

That's very funny," says Peeta. Suddenly he lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's hand. It shatters on the floor, sending the bloodred liquid running toward the back of the train. "Only not to us.