The Hunger Games (The Hunger Games, #1)

by Suzanne Collins

“District Twelve. Where you can starve to death in safety,” I mutter.

I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.

And there I am, blushing and confused, made beautiful by Cinna’s hands, desirable by Peeta’s confession, tragic by circumstance, and by all accounts, unforgettable.

“No, true story,” Peeta says. “And I said, ‘A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could’ve had you?’ And he said, ‘Because when he sings . . . even the birds stop to listen.’”