Catching Fire (Hunger Games, #2)

by Suzanne Collins

Then he let go and said, “I had to do that. At least once.” And he was gone.

Because sometimes things happen to people and they’re not equipped to deal with them.

I squeeze my eyes shut and I don’t see Prim – I see Rue, the twelve-year-old girl from District 11 who was my ally in the arena.

Rue, who I didn’t save.

As badly as I have hurt him, he won’t expose me in front of the cameras. Won’t condemn me with a half-hearted kiss. He’s still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry.

“But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she’ll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind.

Every person in the

crowd presses the three middle fingers of their left hand against their lips and extends them to me. It’s our sign from District 12, the last goodbye I gave Rue in the arena.

“Having an eye for beauty isn’t the same thing as a weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.”

“Actually, I painted a picture of Rue,” Peeta says. “How she looked after Katniss had covered her in flowers.”

Because Cinna has turned me into a mockingjay.

“Remember, girl on fire,” he says, “I’m still betting on you.” He kisses my

forehead and steps back as the glass cylinder slides down around me. “Thank you,” I say,

“She was Finnick’s mentor, you know,” Johanna says accusingly. “No, I didn’t,” I say. “She was half his family,” she says a few moments later, but there’s less venom behind it.

“Oh,” I say under my breath. “Tick, tock.” My eyes sweep around the full circle of the arena and I know she’s right. “Tick, tock. This is a clock.”

There is no question about it. For reasons completely unfathomable to me, some of the other victors are trying to keep him alive, even if it means sacrificing themselves.

Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disc from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn’t notice before and the disc pops open. It’s not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. And on the left, Gale. Actually smiling.

My family. My mother. My sister. And my pretend cousin Gale. But Peeta’s intention is clear. That Gale really is my family, or will be one day, if I live. That I’ll marry him. So Peeta’s giving me his life and Gale at the same time. To let me know I shouldn’t ever have doubts about it. Everything. That’s what Peeta wants me to take from him. I wait for him to mention the baby, to play to the cameras, but he doesn’t. And that’s how I know that none of this is part of the Games. That he is telling me the truth about what he feels.

“Where is Peeta?” I hiss at him. “He was picked up by the Capitol along with Johanna and Enobaria,” says Haymitch. And finally he has the decency to drop his gaze.

“Katniss. Katniss, I’m sorry.” Finnick’s voice comes from the bed next to me and slips into my consciousness. Perhaps because we’re in the same kind of pain. “I wanted to go back for him and Johanna, but I couldn’t move.” I don’t answer. Finnick Odair’s good intentions mean less than nothing.

But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. “Katniss, there is no District Twelve.”