Chapter 5

           R-i-i-i-p!IgritmyteethasVenia,awomanwithaquahairandgoldtattoosabovehereyebrows,yanksastripofFabricfrommylegtearingoutthehairbeneathit."Sorry!"shepipesinhersillyCapitolaccent."You’rejustsohairy!"

           Whydothesepeoplespeakinsuchahighpitch?Whydotheirjawsbarelyopenwhentheytalk?Whydotheendsoftheirsentencesgoupasifthey’reaskingaquestion?Oddvowels,clippedwords,andalwaysahissontheletters.nowonderit’simpossiblenottomimicthem.

           Veniamakeswhat’ssupposedtobeasympatheticface."Goodnews,though.Thisisthelastone.Ready?"IgetagripontheedgesofthetableI’mseatedonandnod.Thefinalswatheofmyleghairisuprootedinapainfuljerk.

           I’vebeenintheRemakeCenterformorethanthreehoursandIstillhaven’tmetmystylist.ApparentlyhehasnointerestinseeingmeuntilVeniaandtheothermembersofmyprepteamhaveaddressedsomeobviousproblems.Thishasincludedscrubbingdownmybodywithagrittyloamthathasremovednotonlydirtbutatleastthreelayersofskin,turningmynailsintouniformshapes,andprimarily,riddingmybodyofhair.Mylegs,arms,torso,underarms,andpartsofmyeyebrowshavebeenstrippedoftheMuff,leavingmelikeapluckedbird,readyforroasting.Idon’tlikeit.Myskinfeelssoreandtinglingandintenselyvulnerable.ButIhavekeptmysideofthebargainwithHaymitch,andnoobjectionhascrossedmylips.

           "You’redoingverywell,"sayssomeguynamedFlavius.