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"
She
's
just
worried
about
her
boyfriend
,
"
says
Peeta
gruffly
,
tossing
away
a
bloody
piece
of
the
urn
.
My
cheeks
burn
again
at
the
thought
of
Gale
.
"
I
do
n't
have
a
boyfriend
.
"
"
Whatever
,
"
says
Peeta
.
"
But
I
bet
he
's
smart
enough
to
know
a
bluff
when
he
sees
it
.
Besides
you
did
n't
say
you
loved
me
.
So
what
does
it
matter
?
"
The
words
are
sinking
in
.
My
anger
fading
.
I
'm
torn
now
between
thinking
I
've
been
used
and
thinking
I
've
been
given
an
edge
.
Haymitch
is
right
.
I
survived
my
interview
,
but
what
was
I
really
?
A
silly
girl
spinning
in
a
sparkling
,
dress
.
Giggling
.
The
only
moment
of
any
substance
I
hail
was
when
I
talked
about
Prim
.
Compare
that
with
Thresh
,
his
silent
,
deadly
power
,
and
I
'm
forgettable
.
Silly
and
sparkly
and
forgettable
.
No
,
not
entirely
forgettable
,
I
have
my
eleven
in
training
.
But
now
Peeta
has
made
me
an
object
of
love
.
Not
just
his
.
To
hear
him
tell
it
I
have
many
admirers
.
And
if
the
audience
really
thinks
we
're
in
love
.
I
remember
how
strongly
they
responded
to
his
confession
.
Star-crossed
lovers
.
Haymitch
is
right
,
they
eat
that
stuff
up
in
the
Capitol
.
Suddenly
I
'm
worried
that
I
did
n't
react
properly
.
"
After
he
said
he
loved
me
,
did
you
think
I
could
be
in
love
with
him
,
too
?
"
I
ask
.
"
I
did
,
"
says
Portia
.
"
The
way
you
avoided
looking
at
the
cameras
,
the
blush
.
"
They
others
chime
in
,
agreeing
.
"
You
're
golden
,
sweetheart
.
You
're
going
to
have
sponsors
lined
up
around
the
block
,
"
says
Haymitch
.
