What did you think of that costume?”

Cinna raises one eyebrow at me. Be honest. “You mean after

I got over my fear of being burned alive?” I ask.

Big laugh. A real one from the audience.

“Yes. Start then,” says Caesar.

Cinna, my friend, I should tell him anyway. “I thought Cinna

was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I’d ever

seen and I couldn’t believe I was wearing it. I can’t believe I’m

wearing this, either.” I lift up my skirt to spread it out. “I mean,

look at it!”

As the audience oohs and ahs, I see Cinna make the tiniest

circular motion with his finger. But I know what he’s saying.

Twirl for me.

I spin in a circle once and the reaction is immediate.

“Oh, do that again!” says Caesar, and so I lift up my arms

and spin around and around letting the skirt fly out, letting

the dress engulf me in flames. The audience breaks into

cheers. When I stop, I clutch Caesar’s arm.

“Don’t stop!” he says.

“I have to, I’m dizzy!” I’m also giggling, which I think I’ve

done maybe never in my lifetime. But the nerves and the

spinning have gotten to me.

Caesar wraps a protective arm around me. “Don’t worry,

I’ve got you. Can’t have you following in your mentor’s footsteps.”

Everyone’s hooting as the cameras find Haymitch, who is

by now famous for his head dive at the reaping, and he waves

them away good-naturedly and points back to me.

“It’s all right,” Caesar reassures the crowd. “She’s safe with

me. So, how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint

what happened in there.”

I glance at the Gamemakers on the balcony and bite my lip.

“Um . . . all I can say, is I think it was a first.”

The cameras are right on the Gamemakers, who are chuckling

and nodding.

“You’re killing us,” says Caesar as if in actual pain. 

“Details. Details.”

I address the balcony. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, right?”

The Gamemaker who fell in the punch bowl shouts out,

“She’s not!”

“Thank you,” I say. “Sorry. My lips are sealed.”

“Let’s go back then, to the moment they called your sister’s

name at the reaping,” says Caesar. His mood is quieter now.

“And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?”

No. No, not all of you. But maybe Cinna. I don’t think I’m

imagining the sadness on his face. “Her name’s Prim. She’s just

twelve. And I love her more than anything.”

You could hear a pin drop in the City Circle now.

“What did she say to you? After the reaping?” Caesar asks.

Be honest. Be honest. I swallow hard. “She asked me to try

really hard to win.” The audience is frozen, hanging on my

every word.

“And what did you say?” prompts Caesar gently.

But instead of warmth, I feel an icy rigidity take over my body. 

My muscles tense as they do before a kill. When I speak,

my voice seems to have dropped an octave. “I swore I would.”

“I bet you did,” says Caesar, giving me a squeeze. The buzzer

goes off. “Sorry we’re out of time. Best of luck, Katniss

Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve.”

The applause continues long after I’m seated. I look to Cinna

for reassurance. He gives me a subtle thumbs-up.

I’m still in a daze for the first part of Peeta’s interview. He

has the audience from the get-go, though; I can hear them

laughing, shouting out. He plays up the baker’s son thing,

comparing the tributes to the breads from their districts. Then

has a funny anecdote about the perils of the Capitol showers.

“Tell me, do I still smell like roses?” he asks Caesar, and then

there’s a whole run where they take turns sniffing each other

that brings down the house. I’m coming back into focus 

when Caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home.

Peeta hesitates, then gives an unconvincing shake of his head.

“Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl.

Come on, what’s her name?” says Caesar.

Peeta sighs. “Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on

her ever since I can remember. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t

know I was alive until the reaping.”

Sounds of sympathy from the crowd. Unrequited love they

can relate to.

“She have another fellow?” asks Caesar.

“I don’t know, but a lot of boys like her,” says Peeta.

“So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She 

can’t turn you down then, eh?” says Caesar encouragingly.

“I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning . . . won’t 

help in my case,” says Peeta.

“Why ever not?” says Caesar, mystified.

Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. “Because . . . because

. . . she came here with me.”

octave n. 八度音阶；八行诗；十四行诗的前八行；八个一组的事物

anecdote n. 轶事；奇闻；秘史

peril n. 危险；冒险