The Hunger Games (The Hunger Games, #1)

by Suzanne Collins

In it is all the anger, all the fear I felt at her abandonment.

“Please. I don’t know where you pulled that cheery, wavy girl on the chariot from, but I haven’t seen her before or since,” says Haymitch. “And you’ve given me so many reasons to be cheery,” I counter.

“But I don’t want them to! They’re already taking my future! They can’t have the things that mattered to me in the past!” I say. “Then lie! Make something up!” says Haymitch. “I’m not good at lying,” I say. “Well, you better learn fast. You’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug,”

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.

“No, when the time comes, I’m sure I’ll kill just like everybody else. I can’t go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don’t own me.

Peeta Mellark just saved my life. Then the ants bore into my eyes and I black out.

This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another.

I know I’ll never marry, never risk bringing a child into the world. Because if there’s one thing being a victor doesn’t guarantee, it’s your children’s safety.