the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第33章
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I raise my eyebrows before I remember he doesnˇt know about the message Haymitch sent us a couple of nights ago。 One kiss equals one pot of broth。 Itˇs not the sort of thing I can blurt out； either。 To say my thoughts aloud would be tipping off the audience that the romance has been fabricated to play on their sympathies and that would result in no food at all。 Somehow； believably； Iˇve got to get things back on track。 Something simple to start with。 I reach out and take his hand。
¨Well； he probably used up a lot of resources helping me knock you out；〃 I say mischievously。
¨Yeah； about that；〃 says Peeta； entwining his fingers in mine。 ¨Donˇt try something like that again。〃
¨Or what？〃 I ask。
¨Or 。 。 。 or 。 。 。〃 He canˇt think of anything good。 ¨Just give me a minute。〃
¨Whatˇs the problem？〃 I say with a grin。
¨The problem is weˇre both still alive。 Which only reinforces the idea in your mind that you did the right thing；〃 says Peeta。
¨I did do the right thing；〃 I say。
¨No！ Just donˇt； Katniss！〃 His grip tightens； hurting my hand； and thereˇs real anger in his voice。 ¨Donˇt die for me。 You wonˇt be doing me any favors。 All right？〃
Iˇm startled by his intensity but recognize an excellent opportunity for getting food； so I try to keep up。 ¨Maybe I did it for myself； Peeta； did you ever think of that？ Maybe you arenˇt the only one who 。 。 。 who worries about 。 。 。 what it would be like if。 。 。〃
I fumble。 Iˇm not as smooth with words as Peeta。 And while I was talking； the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I donˇt want him to die。 And itˇs not about the sponsors。 And itˇs not about what will happen back home。 And itˇs not just that I donˇt want to be alone。 Itˇs him。 I do not want to lose the boy with the bread。
¨If what； Katniss？〃 he says softly。
I wish I could pull the shutters closed； blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem。 Even if it means losing food。 Whatever Iˇm feeling； itˇs no oneˇs business but mine。
¨Thatˇs exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of；〃 I say evasively； although Haymitch never said anything of the kind。 In fact； heˇs probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment。 But Peeta somehow catches it。
¨Then Iˇll just have to fill in the blanks myself；〃 he says； and moves in to me。
This is the first kiss that weˇre both fully aware of。 Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious。 Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold。 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。
But I donˇt get it。 Well； I do get a second kiss； but itˇs just a light one on the tip of my nose because Peetaˇs been distracted。 ¨I think your wound is bleeding again。 e on； lie down； itˇs bedtime anyway；〃 he says。
My socks are dry enough to wear now。 I make Peeta put his jacket back on。 The damp cold seems to cut right down to my bones； so he must be half frozen。 I insist on taking the first watch； too； although neither of us think itˇs likely anyone will e in this weather。 But he wonˇt agree unless Iˇm in the bag； too； and Iˇm shivering so hard that itˇs pointless to object。 In stark contrast to two nights ago； when I felt Peeta was a million miles away； Iˇm struck by his immediacy now。 As we settle in； he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow； the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep。 No one has held me like this in such a long time。 Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother； no one elseˇs arms have made me feel this safe。
With the aid of the glasses； I lie watching the drips of water splatter on the cave floor。 Rhythmic and lulling。 Several times； I drift off briefly and then snap awake； guilty and angry with myself。 After three or four hours； I canˇt help it； I have to rouse Peeta because I canˇt keep my eyes open。 He doesnˇt seem to mind。
¨Tomorrow； when itˇs dry； Iˇll find us a place so high in the trees we can both sleep in peace；〃 I promise as I drift off。
But tomorrow is no better in terms of weather。 The deluge continues as if the Gamemakers are intent on washing us all away。 The thunderˇs so powerful it seems to shake the ground。 Peetaˇs considering heading out anyway to scavenge for food； but I tell him in this storm it would be pointless。 He wonˇt be able to see three feet in front of his face and heˇll only end up getting soaked to the skin for his troubles。 He knows Iˇm right； but the gnawing in our stomachs is being painful。
The day drags on turning into evening and thereˇs no break in the weather。 Haymitch is our only hope； but nothing is forthing； either from lack of money everything will cost an exorbitant amount or because heˇs dissatisfied with our performance。 Probably the latter。 Iˇd be the first to admit weˇre not exactly riveting today。 Starving； weak from injuries； trying not to reopen wounds。 Weˇre sitting huddled together wrapped in the sleeping bag； yes； but mostly to keep warm。 The most exciting thing either of us does is nap。
Iˇm not really sure how to ramp up the romance。 The kiss last night was nice； but working up to another will take some forethought。 There are girls in the Seam； some of the merchant girls； too； who navigate these waters so easily。 But Iˇve never had much time or use for it。 Anyway； just a kiss isnˇt enough anymore clearly because if it was weˇd have gotten food last night。 My instincts tell me Haymitch isnˇt just looking for physical affection； he wants something more personal。 The sort of stuff he was trying to get me to tell about myself when we were practicing for the interview。 Iˇm rotten at it； but Peetaˇs not。 Maybe the best approach is to get him talking。
¨Peeta；〃 I say lightly。 ¨You said at the interview youˇd had a crush on me forever。 When did forever start？〃
¨Oh； letˇs see。 I guess the first day of school。 We were five。 You had on a red plaid dress and your hair 。 。 。 it was in two braids instead of one。 My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up；〃 Peeta says。
¨Your father？ Why？〃 I ask。
¨He said； ˉSee that little girl？ I wanted to marry her mother； but she ran off with a coal miner；ˇ〃 Peeta says。
¨What？ Youˇre making that up！〃 I exclaim。
¨No； true story；〃 Peeta says。 ¨And I said； ˉA coal miner？ Why did she want a coal miner if she couldˇve had you？ˇ And he said； ˉBecause when he sings 。 。 。 even the birds stop to listen。ˇ〃
¨Thatˇs true。 They do。 I mean； they did；〃 I say。 Iˇm stunned and surprisingly moved； thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta。 It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing； my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think itˇs a waste of time。 It might be because it reminds me too much of my father。
¨So that day； in music assembly； the teacher asked who knew the valley song。 Your hand shot right up in the air。 She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us。 And I swear； every bird outside the windows fell silent；〃 Peeta says。
¨Oh； please；〃 I say； laughing。
¨No； it happened。 And right when your song ended； I knew just like your mother I was a goner；〃 Peeta says。 ¨Then for the next eleven years； I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you。〃
¨Without success；〃 I add。
¨Without success。 So； in a way； my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck；〃 says Peeta。
For a moment； Iˇm almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me。 Because weˇre supposed to be making up this stuff； playing at being in love not actually being in love。 But Peetaˇs story has a ring of truth to it。 That part about my father and the birds。 And I did sing the first day of school； although I donˇt remember the song。 And that red plaid dress 。 。 。 there was one； a hand…me…down to Prim that got washed to rags after my fatherˇs death。
It would explain another thing； too。 Why Peeta took a beating to give me the bread on that awful hollow day。 So； if those details are true 。 。 。 could it all be true？
¨You have a 。 。 。 remarkable memory；〃 I say haltingly。
¨I remember everything about you；〃 says Peeta； tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear。 ¨Youˇre the one who wasnˇt paying attention。〃
¨I am now；〃 I say。
¨Well； I donˇt have much petition here；〃 he says。
I want to draw away； to close those shutters again； but I know I canˇt。 Itˇs as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear； ¨Say it！ Say it！〃
I swallow hard and get the words out。 ¨You donˇt have much petition anywhere。〃 And this time； itˇs me who leans in。
Our lips have just barely touched when the clunk outside makes us jump。 My bow es up； the arrow ready to fly； but thereˇs no other sound。 Peeta peers through the rocks and then gives a whoop。 Before I can stop him； lieˇs out in the rain； then handing something in to me。 A silver parachute attached to a basket。 I rip it open at once and inside thereˇs a feast fresh rolls； goat cheese； apples； and best of all； a tureen of that incredible lamb stew on wild rice。 The very dish I told Caesar Flickerman was the most impressive thing the Capitol had to offer。
Peeta wriggles back inside； his face lit up like the sun。 ¨I guess Haymitch finally got tired of watching us starve。〃
¨I guess so；〃 I answer。
But in my head I can hear Haymitchˇs smug； if slightly exasperated； words； ¨Yes； thatˇs what Iˇm looking lot； sweetheart。〃
23
Every cell in my body wants me to dig into the stew and cram it； handful by handful into my mouth。 But Peetaˇs voice stops me。 ¨We better take it slow on that stew。 Remember the first night on the train？ The rich food made me sick and I wasnˇt even starving then。〃
¨Youˇre right。 And I could just inhale the whole thing！〃 I say regretfully。 But I donˇt。 We are quite sensible。 We each have a roll； half an apple； and an egg…size serving of stew and rice。 I make myself eat the stew in tiny spoonfuls they even sent us silverware and plates savoring each bite。 When we finish； I stare longingly at the dish。 ¨I want more。〃
¨Me； too。 Tell you what。 We wait an hour； if it stays down； then we get another serving；〃 Peeta says。
¨Agreed；〃 I say。 ¨Itˇs going to be a long hour。〃
¨Maybe not that long；〃 says Peeta。 ¨What was that you were saying just before the food arrived？ Something about me 。 。 。 no petition 。 。 。 best thing that ever happened to you 。 。 。〃
¨I donˇt remember that last part；〃 I say； hoping itˇs too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush。
¨Oh； thatˇs right。 Thatˇs what I was thinking；〃 he says。 ¨Scoot over； Iˇm freezing。〃
I make room for him in the sleeping bag。 We lean back against the cave wall； my head on his shoulder； his arms wrapped around me。 I can feel Haymitch nudging me to keep up the act。 ¨So； since we were five； you never even noticed any other girls？〃 I ask him。
¨No； I noticed just about every girl； but none of them made a lasting impression but you；〃 he says。
¨Iˇm sure that would thrill your parents； you liking a girl from the Seam；〃 I say。
¨Hardly。 But I couldnˇt care less。 Anyway； if we make it back； you wonˇt be a girl from the Seam； youˇll be a girl from the Victorˇs Village；〃 he says。
Thatˇs right。 If we win； weˇll each get a house in the part of town reserved for Hunger Gamesˇ victors。 Long ago； when the Games began； the Capitol had built a dozen fine houses in each district。 Of course； in ours only one is occupied。 Most of the others have never been lived in at all。
A disturbing thought hits me。 ¨But then； our only neighbor will be Haymitch！〃
¨Ah； thatˇll be nice；〃 says Peeta； tightening his arms around me。 ¨You and me and Haymitch。 Very cozy。 Picnics； birthdays； long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Gamesˇ tales。〃
¨I told you； he hates me！〃 I say； but I canˇt help laughing at the image of Haymitch being my new pal。
¨Only sometimes。 When heˇs sober； Iˇve never heard him say one negative thing about you；〃 says Peeta。
¨Heˇs never sober！〃 I protest。
¨Thatˇs right。 Who am I thinking of？ Oh； I know。 Itˇs Cinna who likes you。 But thatˇs mainly because you didnˇt try to run when he set you on fire；〃 says Peeta。 ¨On the other hand； Haymitch 。 。 。 well； if I were you； Iˇd avoid Haymitch pletely。 He hates you。〃
¨I thought you said I was his favorite；〃 I say。
¨He hates me more；〃 says Peeta。 ¨I donˇt think people in general are his sort of thing。〃
I know the audience will enjoy our having fun at Haymitchˇs expense。 He has been around so long； heˇs practically an old friend to some of them。 And after his head…dive off the stage at the reaping； everybody knows him。 By this time； theyˇll have dragged him out of the control room for interviews about us。 No telling what sort of lies heˇs made up。 Heˇs at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner； another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to be ready to go into action at any moment。 Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena。 I wonder how heˇs holding up； with the drinking； the attention； and the stress of trying to keep us alive。
Itˇs funny。 Haymitch and I donˇt get along well in person； but maybe Peeta is right about us bei
