Голодные игры
Chapter 8
NowI’msureI’llhavethelowestscoreofthetwenty-four.Ifnoonesponsorsme,myoddsofstayingalivedecreasetoalmostzero.
WhenEffietapsonthedoortocallmetodinner,IdecideImayaswellgo.Thescoreswillbetelevisedtonight.It’snotlikeIcanhidewhathappenedforever.Igotothebathroomandwashmyface,butit’sstillredandsplotchy.
Everyone’swaitingatthetable,evenCinnaandPortia.Iwishthestylistshadn’tshownupbecauseforsomereason,Idon’tliketheideaofdisappointingthem.It’sasifI’vethrownawayallthegoodworktheydidontheopeningceremonieswithoutathought.IavoidlookingatanyoneasItaketinyspoonfulsoffishsoup.Thesaltinessremindsmeofmytears.
Theadultsbeginsomechitchatabouttheweatherforecast,andIletmyeyesmeetPeeta’s.Heraiseshiseyebrows.Aquestion.Whathappened?Ijustgivemyheadasmallshake.Then,asthey’reservingthemaincourse,IhearHaymitchsay,"Okay,enoughsmalltalk,justhowbadwereyoutoday?"
Peetajumpsin."Idon’tknowthatitmattered.BythetimeIshowedup,nooneevenbotheredtolookatme.Theyweresingingsomekindofdrinkingsong,Ithink.So,IthrewaroundsomeheavyobjectsuntiltheytoldmeIcouldgo."
Thatmakesmefeelabitbetter.It’snotlikePeetaattackedtheGamemakers,butatleasthewasprovoked,too.
"Andyou,sweetheart?"saysHaymitch.
SomehowHaymitchcallingmesweetheartticksmeoffenoughthatI’matleastabletospeak."IshotanarrowattheGamemakers."
Everyonestopseating.
