It's The First Gift That's Always The

But It's Posy, Gale's Five-year-old Sister, Who Helps The Most. She Scoots Along The Bench To Octavia And Touches Her Skin With A Tentative Finger. “you're Green. Are You Sick?” “it's A Fashion Thing, Posy. Like Wearing Lipstick,” I Say. “it's Meant To Be Pretty,” Whispers Octavia, And I Can See The Tears Threatening To Spill Over Her Lashes. Posy Considers This And Says Matter-of-factly, “i Think You'd Be Pretty In Any Color.

He Hates Me More," Says Peeta. "i Don't Think People In General Are His Sort Of Thing.

So It's You And A Syringe Against The Capitol? See, This Is Why No One Lets You Make The Plans.

I Know What Blood Poisoning Is, Katniss," Says Peeta. "even If My Mother Isn't A Healer." I'm Jolted Back In Time, To Another Wound, Another Set Of Bandages. "you Said That Same Thing To Me In The First Hunger Games. Real Or Not Real?" "real," He Says. "and You Risked Your Life Getting The Medicine That Saved Me?" "real." I Shrug. "you Were The Reason I Was Alive To Do It.

We Each Get Fifteen Minutes Before The Gamemakers To Amaze Them With Our Skills, But I Don't Know What Any Of Us Might Have To Show Them. There's A Lot Of Kidding About It At Lunch. What We Might Do. Sing, Dance, Strip, Tell Jokes. Mags, Who I Can Understand A Little Better Now, Decides She's Just Going To Take A Nap.