The Hunger Games (Hunger Games, #1)

by Suzanne Collins

“I volunteer!” I gasp. “I volunteer as tribute!”

Oh, well, I think. There will be twenty-four of us. Odds are someone else will kill him before I do.

The more likeable he is, the more deadly he is.

“She has no idea. The effect she can have.” He runs his fingernail along the wood grain in the table, refusing to look at me.

I can’t help comparing what I have with Gale to what I’m pretending to have with Peeta.

Betrayal. That’s the first thing I feel, which is ludicrous. For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.

Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to … to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games,”

“Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!”

This is what I tell myself to explain the conflicting emotions that arise when I think of Peeta.

Then I cock my head slightly to the side and give a knowing smile. There! Let them figure out what that means!