Chapter 8

The Kid looks at me with an expression that can only be described as AGHAST. "What?" he whispers.

"You heard me, tell the world that you love her," I answer. "You said you wanted to help her."

"How can that possibly help her?" He finally unfolds his legs and arms from their tightly wound position.

I sit down on the bed next to him, bringing one leg up so I can face him. "Listen… You described to me the Katniss you find amazing. I suspect you've been… uhm… keeping tabs on her for a long time…"

"Practically my entire life." I nod; I thought that was the case.

"That's all well and good, but the Katniss you described is not the one the Capitol will see. Shall I describe to you what I have observed of her in the few days that I have known her?" He reluctantly nods. "Let's see… She's quiet and private to the point of being sullen, and that makes her look rude, although I don't think that's her intent. She could be really beautiful but for the permanent scowl on her face. When she does speak, it is rarely in complete sentences. She's argumentative, dismissive, and distrusting, even with people who are trying to help her. Even with the boy who is in love with her. AND she doesn't know you are in love with her because she's completely self-absorbed, which, I suppose, is somewhat understandable given where she is. In short, she lacks charm and charisma – two qualities necessary to attract sponsors, and two things coincidentally that you, my boy, have in spades."

"Wow, you really, really don't like her, do you?" He looks puzzled. "Soooo…., you think I'm charming," at this he pauses and cocks an incredulous eyebrow at me, "and what? You hope to make her charming by association? Will that even work?"

"Actually, I think she's one hell of an awesome kid. I'm talking about what comes through in superficial observation, and the people of the Capitol are nothing if not superficial." I think about the second statement in his observation. "Charming by association, eh? I guess that's one way of looking at it. I was really thinking about making her more… uhm… desirable, I guess is the word. More desirable to sponsor. And nothing makes a girl more desirable than when a good-looking boy wants her."

He squints his eyes in thought then shakes his head. "I don't know if I can say that on national TV. It would be so embarrassing if she got mad, or said that she doesn't like me, or something. I mean, we've never even really talked to each other before coming here."

Is he kidding? Does he think he's asking her to the harvest festival dance, and the worst that will happen is she might turn him down? "Listen, Kid, you've told me that you are reconciled to your own death, for Pete's sake. And yet you're afraid of telling the truth about your feelings for her for fear of rejection? THAT scares you more than dying?"

He just stares at me in silence for a moment. Then ever so slowly his lips twitch into a smile, which leads to chuckles, which leads to full-tilt laughter. I begin to wonder if the stress of the situation is finally getting to him, but I realize this is just his personality. He continues laughing robustly when he falls back onto the bed staring at the ceiling. Eventually I start chuckling myself. Getting himself somewhat under control, he states, "Well, I guess when you put it that way…." And he's off into another fit of giggles. Damn, but this is a great kid; how can I possibly even think about him dying? I can't. You'd think after twenty-three years of marching kids to their inevitable deaths I would be over it. But this kid is different, and so is Sweetheart. I just can't let this kid die. Either of them, really. Somehow, I have to pull off the impossible. As he's wiping tears from the laughter from his eyes, he asks me, "So how would I do this?"

"We have to be subtle about it. If you just blurt it out it will seem contrived and therefore unbelievable," I answer, taking a pause to mull over several different subtle scenarios that might work. "You'll have to let Caesar 'pull' it out of you in your interview."

"But what if he doesn't take my interview in that direction?"

He really doesn't get the power he has. I stand up from the bed and grab his elbow and drag him to the mirror over the dresser. I stand behind him with my hands on his shoulders. "Look in that mirror, and tell me what you see…"

Confused, he meets my eyes in the reflection and answers hesitantly, "Uhm, you and me?"

"I'll tell you what I see. I see the most handsome male tribute of the 74th Hunger Games." Hell, he's one of the most handsome boys in all of Panem; he could even give Finnick a run for his money in that department. His cheeks redden at the compliment. "That's almost more important than your evaluation score, which, by the way, was a really decent score. Remember, the people of the Capitol are incredibly shallow. There is no way that Caesar won't ask you about your love life." Plus, and the Kid doesn't need to know this, I plan to plant a little seed with Caesar ahead of time. Finnick might come in handy for that; he and Caesar are pretty tight since Finnick appears on Caesar's regular broadcast show on a frequent basis. In addition, Finnick is one of the best actors I know; he pretty much has to be. He's also one of the few people I know who fully understands that the Games don't just happen in the arena.

The Kid's eyes cast down and to the right for a moment, and then he returns their gaze to his reflection. "OK, I'll do it," he says. "But why aren't we telling Katniss about this ahead of time?"

"Oh a few reasons… she'll never go along with it, or she'll argue about it." I pause to take in his slightly disbelieving expression. "Oh come on, you know she will. You've seen how much she questions what I tell her to do. But mainly, she's just a lousy actress. Or at least I'm betting that she is. The best responses from her are her genuine ones. Take for example what she did in her evaluation session with the gamemakers. That was the real Katniss, and she was brilliant. I think this will work in much the same way."

The dawn of realization appears on his face. "This is why you wanted us to work as a team. You were trying to establish us as a couple!" And he's smart, too…

"Ding, ding, got it in one."

"How long have you been hatching this little scheme of yours?" he asks tilting his head around to look at me.

"Pretty much since I saw the two of you holding your hands up in the air in the tribute parade." He turns around to look back at our joint reflections. Actually longer than that, if I'm honest with myself, as I also gaze into the mirror. The idea first emerged unformed when I saw the look on Sweetheart's face when his name was called in the recap of the reapings I watched with my fellow mentors at Capitol Quaffs. Even Finnick saw her "look". And if he saw it, then so did citizens of the Capitol… and gamemakers… and all of Panem. At that point, I already knew that he had a thing for her. But when I saw her innocent and unguarded response to his name being called in the reaping, I knew I had a special couple of kids.

That's it. I'm going to pull off the impossible. After all, I won the Second Quarter Quell, when there were twice as many tributes as normal. Many thought my winning was impossible. So… I have believed in achieving the impossible in the past, even though it's been nearly a quarter of a century since I embraced that belief. Worst case scenario, (other than both of my kids being killed) if only one of my kids wins… at least their "love story" may protect them from a future too horrible to contemplate. With this in mind, I firmly resolve I WILL ACHIEVE THE IMPOSSIBLE! Oh, God, I must be completely insane! Years of mentoring without company or success have finally worn me down…

"So, how do we deal with Katniss?" Good question. He's so open and honest that I'm unsure that he will be able to pull off some sort of deception. It suddenly occurs to me that I will need to keep them separated to pull this off. Well crap… when did I become the arbiter of teenage dating drama?

"You just relax in here, and I'll have your dinner sent in. I'll tell her that you've asked to be trained separately." I walk toward the door.

He mulls this over for a minute. "Why would I do that? What is she going to think?"

Good questions. This is getting tricky. I need to get him to trust me unquestioningly, and to get him to believe that I will "back his play" where his lady-love is concerned. Because, quite frankly, I believe in these two kids. I believe in these two kids as a couple. He loves her. I'm not exactly sure what her feelings are for him, but I'm absolutely sure she cares for him on some level. I remember that look of contemplation she had the other night at dinner after she had revealed that she had been watching him toss the sacks of flour and after he had stormed out of the dining room. Damn, I hate that she is so closed off. If only I could crack her protective shell. I vaguely remember that when she brings her hunting bounty into the Hob and elsewhere that there is a young man with her. As I recall, he was the one who picked up her little sister and carried her away at the reaping. But… but… that kid is back in District 12 and she is here… the Kid is here… and there was her "look" at the reaping…

"I'm going to ask a lot of you," I tell him as I turn from the door to look back at him; he's still watching my reflection in the mirror. "I will take care of you, and more importantly I will take care of her, but I'm asking you to trust me. Trust me as you have never trusted anyone in your entire life. I have a plan. Do you think you can do that?"

He looks at me with slitted eyes, as if he were mulling over my words, and the sincerity behind them. "I want to trust you… you have no idea how much. But what is she going to think?" he asks again, finally turning around to face me from across the room.

"I'm not going to lie to you. She's going to be pissed at first. And maybe past first, second, and beyond… but, if I can pull off what I'm planning, she will have no alternative but to be on board with the plan." I remember that he has no clue about her possible attraction to him. "And just maybe, she'll be on board with you as well," I continue.

"You think so?" He crosses his arms.

"More like I hope so. At any rate, what do you have to lose? Odds are you will be dead in a few days/weeks, anyway. And if you aren't, then maybe, just maybe you two kids might have a future together. How does that sound? More importantly, how does that feel?"

"It sounds great, but it also sounds and feels hopeless and impossible. What are you getting at?" I notice that there is a look of doubt and overwhelming reality crossing his face. I decide that sharing the entire scope of my plan right now might be lost on him in the midst of his emotional trauma in anticipation of his performance in the Games. In fact, it may be detrimental to reveal the extent of my plans to him since he needs to face head-on the reality of the Hunger Games. To give him what might be false hope at this point might only end up damaging him. And I certainly don't want to damage him just before he goes into the Games.

"This is where the trust I was talking about needs to come in. You and Katniss are decidedly different than any other tributes I have mentored in the past. I have quite a few 'balls in the air' right now, but if I can juggle them just right, I just may have a victor this year." There. I've revealed enough to keep him satisfied without overwhelming him.

"And that victor is going to be Katniss, right?"

"Oh yes, I plan to do everything in my power to make sure that she makes it out of that arena alive," I tell him. You are going to make it too, if the odds are finally in my favor, I mentally add. "District 12 currently has the longest stretch without a victor; it's our time! So, just play along with my plan, and you will be helping her, OK?"

He takes a moment to consider what I've said, and then he nods his head in agreement. "Perfect," I tell him. "You just wait in here and I'll have your dinner brought into you." With that, I turn and leave the room. I can hear the others settling down in the dining room. As I pass through the living room I whisper to the Avox there to bring the Kid's meal into his room.

I pass into the dining room as Effie is nattering on. I grab an asparagus spear out of a chafing dish and cross to my seat at the head of the table. Effie's attention turns to me, "Ah!... Haymitch… Join us, we're having some of your favorites for dinner … " I look around the table at Effie, Cinna, Portia, and finally at Sweetheart. I know I have to play the next few minutes just right.

"Where's Peeta?" Sweetheart asks. Excellent, she's already missed him.

"He's in his room. Now," and at this point I clear my throat, hoping to appear a little uncomfortable, "listen. Tomorrow's the last day when they let us work with our own tributes, right before the games, so you and I will be going down at nine."

She looks a little confused. "Well, what about him?" Effie looks over the top of her glass as she takes a sip. Cinna averts his eyes as well. Excellent, I couldn't have directed them to play their parts any better than that. And neither of them knows what I have planned.

I look down at the table, "Oh, he says he wants to be trained on his own, now."

Looking straight at me she whispers, "What?"

I finally look right at her, "This kind of thing does happen at this point. There's only one winner, right?" I try to muster a small smile of understanding for her. She looks slightly bewildered and more than a little hurt. Good. She turns back to face forward looking straight at Cinna. He has nothing to offer her so she keeps her head up but looks down at her plate with her eyes. Not for the first time do I wish, wish, wish I could read her mind. An awkward moment of silence settles on the table.

I knew I could count on Effie to break it, "We should have some chocolate covered strawberries…" she says pleasantly, as if an elephant hadn't just entered the room, and she raises a hand to summon the dessert.

"Oh, marvelous," Portia adds, also trying to lighten the mood. Sweetheart lingers at the table just long enough to sample one of those famous strawberries, after hearing Effie go on and on about them in the past few days. Then she excuses herself to go to her room.

"I'll see you in the morning," I say to her. I see the beginning of tears forming in her eyes. I can tell she doesn't want the others to see them, so she just nods her head and takes off for her room. I feel bad for causing her this pain, but when she's alive at the end of the Games, maybe she'll understand.

Now I just have to put the other pieces of my plan into place to make sure she lives to give me that understanding.