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"
You
would
have
found
me
if
you
could
,
"
I
say
.
His
forehead
's
burning
up
.
Like
the
medicine
's
having
no
effect
at
all
.
Suddenly
,
out
of
nowhere
,
I
'm
scared
he
's
going
to
die
.
"
Yes
.
Look
,
if
I
do
n't
make
it
back
-
"
he
begins
.
"
Do
n't
talk
like
that
.
I
did
n't
drain
all
that
pus
for
nothing
,
"
I
say
.
"
I
know
.
But
just
in
case
I
do
n't
-
"
he
tries
to
continue
.
"
No
,
Peeta
,
I
do
n't
even
want
to
discuss
it
,
"
I
say
,
placing
my
fingers
on
his
lips
to
quiet
him
.
"
But
I
-
"
he
insists
.
Impulsively
,
I
lean
forward
and
kiss
him
,
stopping
his
words
.
This
is
probably
overdue
anyway
since
he
's
right
,
we
are
supposed
to
be
madly
in
love
.
It
's
the
first
time
I
've
ever
kissed
a
boy
,
which
should
make
some
sort
of
impression
I
guess
,
but
all
I
can
register
is
how
unnaturally
hot
his
lips
are
from
the
fever
.
I
break
away
and
pull
the
edge
of
the
sleeping
bag
up
around
him
.
"
You
're
not
going
to
die
.
I
forbid
it
.
All
right
?
"
"
All
right
,
"
he
whispers
.
I
step
out
in
the
cool
evening
air
just
as
the
parachute
floats
down
from
the
sky
.
My
fingers
quickly
undo
the
tie
,
hoping
for
some
real
medicine
to
treat
Peeta
's
leg
.
Instead
I
find
a
pot
of
hot
broth
.
Haymitch
could
n't
be
sending
me
a
clearer
message
.
One
kiss
equals
one
pot
of
broth
.
I
can
almost
hear
his
snarl
.
"
You
're
supposed
to
be
in
love
,
sweetheart
.
The
boy
's
dying
