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thinking；　I　pull　an　arrow　from　my　quiver　and　send　it　straight　at　the　Gamemakersˇ　table。　I　hear　shouts　of　alarm　as　people　stumble　back。　The　arrow　skewers　the　apple　in　the　pigˇs　mouth　and　pins　it　to　the　wall　behind　it。　Everyone　stares　at　me　in　disbelief。
¨Thank　you　for　your　consideration；〃　I　say。　Then　I　give　a　slight　bow　and　walk　straight　toward　the　exit　without　being　dismissed。

8
As　I　stride　toward　the　elevator；　I　fling　my　bow　to　one　side　and　my　quiver　to　the　other。　I　brush　past　the　gaping　Avoxes　who　guard　the　elevators　and　hit　the　number　twelve　button　with　my　fist。　The　doors　slide　together　and　I　zip　upward。　I　actually　make　it　back　to　my　floor　before　the　tears　start　running　down　my　cheeks。　I　can　hear　the　others　calling　me　from　the　sitting　room；　but　I　fly　down　the　hall　into　my　room；　bolt　the　door；　and　fling　myself　onto　my　bed。　Then　I　really　begin　to　sob。
Now　Iˇve　done　it！　Now　Iˇve　ruined　everything！　If　Iˇd　stood　even　a　ghost　of　chance；　it　vanished　when　I　sent　that　arrow　flying　at　the　Gamemakers。　What　will　they　do　to　me　now？　Arrest　me？　Execute　me？　Cut　my　tongue　and　turn　me　into　an　Avox　so　I　can　wait　on　the　future　tributes　of　Panem？　What　was　I　thinking；　shooting　at　the　Gamemakers？　Of　course；　I　wasnˇt；　I　was　shooting　at　that　apple　because　I　was　so　angry　at　being　ignored。　I　wasnˇt　trying　to　kill　one　of　them。　If　I　were；　theyˇd　be　dead！
Oh；　what　does　it　matter？　Itˇs　not　like　I　was　going　to　win　the　Games　anyway。　Who　cares　what　they　do　to　me？　What　really　scares　me　is　what　they　might　do　to　my　mother　and　Prim；　how　my　family　might　suffer　now　because　of　my　impulsiveness。　Will　they　take　their　few　belongings；　or　send　my　mother　to　prison　and　Prim　to　the　munity　home；　or　kill　them？　They　wouldnˇt　kill　them；　would　they？　Why　not？　What　do　they　care？
I　should　have　stayed　and　apologized。　Or　laughed；　like　it　was　a　big　joke。　Then　maybe　I　would　have　found　some　leniency。　But　instead　I　stalked　out　of　the　place　in　the　most　disrespectful　manner　possible。
Haymitch　and　Effie　are　knocking　on　my　door。　I　shout　for　them　to　go　away　and　eventually　they　do。　It　takes　at　least　an　hour　for　me　to　cry　myself　out。　Then　I　just　lay　curled　up　on　the　bed；　stroking　the　silken　sheets；　watching　the　sun　set　over　the　artificial　candy　Capitol。
At　first；　I　expect　guards　to　e　for　me。　But　as　time　passes；　it　seems　less　likely。　I　calm　down。　They　still　need　a　girl　tribute　from　District　12；　donˇt　they？　If　the　Gamemakers　want　to　punish　me；　they　can　do　it　publicly。　Wait　until　Iˇm　in　the　arena　and　sic　starving　wild　animals　on　me。　You　can　bet　theyˇll　make　sure　I　donˇt　have　a　bow　and　arrow　to　defend　myself。
Before　that　though；　theyˇll　give　me　a　score　so　low；　no　one　in　their　right　mind　would　sponsor　me。　Thatˇs　what　will　happen　tonight。　Since　the　training　isnˇt　open　to　viewers；　the　Gamemakers　announce　a　score　for　each　player。　It　gives　the　audience　a　starting　place　for　the　betting　that　will　continue　throughout　the　Games。　The　number；　which　is　between　one　and　twelve；　one　being　irredeemably　bad　and　twelve　being　unattainably　high；　signifies　the　promise　of　the　tribute。　The　mark　is　not　a　guarantee　of　which　person　will　win。　Itˇs　only　an　indication　of　the　potential　a　tribute　showed　in　training。　Often；　because　of　the　variables　in　the　actual　arena；　high…scoring　tributes　go　down　almost　immediately。　And　a　few　years　ago；　the　boy　who　won　the　Games　only　received　a　three。　Still；　the　scores　can　help　or　hurt　an　individual　tribute　in　terms　of　sponsorship。　I　had　been　hoping　my　shooting　skills　might　get　me　a　six　or　a　seven；　even　if　Iˇm　not　particularly　powerful。　Now　Iˇm　sure　Iˇll　have　the　lowest　score　of　the　twenty…four。　If　no　one　sponsors　me；　my　odds　of　staying　alive　decrease　to　almost　zero。
When　Effie　taps　on　the　door　to　call　me　to　dinner；　I　decide　I　may　as　well　go。　The　scores　will　be　televised　tonight。　Itˇs　not　like　I　can　hide　what　happened　forever。　I　go　to　the　bathroom　and　wash　my　face；　but　itˇs　still　red　and　splotchy。
Everyoneˇs　waiting　at　the　table；　even　Cinna　and　Portia。　I　wish　the　stylists　hadnˇt　shown　up　because　for　some　reason；　I　donˇt　like　the　idea　of　disappointing　them。　Itˇs　as　if　Iˇve　thrown　away　all　the　good　work　they　did　on　the　opening　ceremonies　without　a　thought。　I　avoid　looking　at　anyone　as　I　take　tiny　spoonfuls　of　fish　soup。　The　saltiness　reminds　me　of　my　tears。
The　adults　begin　some　chitchat　about　the　weather　forecast；　and　I　let　my　eyes　meet　Peetaˇs。　He　raises　his　eyebrows。　A　question。　What　happened？　I　just　give　my　head　a　small　shake。　Then；　as　theyˇre　serving　the　main　course；　I　hear　Haymitch　say；　¨Okay；　enough　small　talk；　just　how　bad　were　you　today？〃
Peeta　jumps　in。　¨I　donˇt　know　that　it　mattered。　By　the　time　I　showed　up；　no　one　even　bothered　to　look　at　me。　They　were　singing　some　kind　of　drinking　song；　I　think。　So；　I　threw　around　some　heavy　objects　until　they　told　me　I　could　go。〃
That　makes　me　feel　a　bit　better。　Itˇs　not　like　Peeta　attacked　the　Gamemakers；　but　at　least　he　was　provoked；　too。
¨And　you；　sweetheart？〃　says　Haymitch。
Somehow　Haymitch　calling　me　sweetheart　ticks　me　off　enough　that　Iˇm　at　least　able　to　speak。　¨I　shot　an　arrow　at　the　Gamemakers。〃
Everyone　stops　eating。　¨You　what？〃　The　horror　in　Effieˇs　voice　confirms　my　worse　suspicions。
¨I　shot　an　arrow　at　them。　Not　exactly　at　them。　In　their　direction。　Itˇs　like　Peeta　said；　I　was　shooting　and　they　were　ignoring　me　and　I　just　。　。　。　I　just　lost　my　head；　so　I　shot　an　apple　out　of　their　stupid　roast　pigˇs　mouth！〃　I　say　defiantly。
¨And　what　did　they　say？〃　says　Cinna　carefully。
¨Nothing。　Or　I　donˇt　know。　I　walked　out　after　that；〃　I　say。
¨Without　being　dismissed？〃　gasps　Effie。
¨I　dismissed　myself；〃　I　said。　I　remember　how　I　promised　Prim　that　I　really　would　try　to　win　and　I　feel　like　a　ton　of　coal　has　dropped　on　me。
¨Well；　thatˇs　that；〃　says　Haymitch。　Then　he　butters　a　roll。
¨Do　you　think　theyˇll　arrest　me？〃　I　ask。　¨Doubt　it。　Be　a　pain　to　replace　you　at　this　stage；〃　says　Haymitch。
¨What　about　my　family？〃　I　say。　¨Will　they　punish　them？〃
¨Donˇt　think　so。　Wouldnˇt　make　much　sense。　See　theyˇd　have　to　reveal　what　happened　in　the　Training　Center　for　it　to　have　any　worthwhile　effect　on　the　population。　People　would　need　to　know　what　you　did。　But　they　canˇt　since　itˇs　secret；　so　itˇd　be　a　waste　of　effort；〃　says　Haymitch。　¨More　likely　theyˇll　make　your　life　hell　in　the　arena。〃
¨Well；　theyˇve　already　promised　to　do　that　to　us　any　way；〃　says　Peeta。
¨Very　true；〃　says　Haymitch。　And　I　realize　the　impossible　has　happened。　They　have　actually　cheered　me　up。　Haymitch　picks　up　a　pork　chop　with　his　fingers；　which　makes　Effie　frown；　and　dunks　it　in　his　wine。　He　rips　off　a　hunk　of　meat　and　starts　to　chuckle。　¨What　were　their　faces　like？〃
I　can　feel　the　edges　of　my　mouth　tilting　up。　¨Shocked。　Terrified。　Uh；　ridiculous；　some　of　them。〃　An　image　pops　into　my　mind。　¨One　man　tripped　backward　into　a　bowl　of　punch。〃
Haymitch　guffaws　and　we　all　start　laughing　except　Effie；　although　even　she　is　suppressing　a　smile。　¨Well；　it　serves　them　right。　Itˇs　their　job　to　pay　attention　to　you。　And　just　because　you　e　from　District　Twelve　is　no　excuse　to　ignore　you。〃　Then　her　eyes　dart　around　as　if　sheˇs　said　something　totally　outrageous。　¨Iˇm　sorry；　but　thatˇs　what　I　think；〃　she　says　to　no　one　in　particular。
¨Iˇll　get　a　very　bad　score；〃　I　say。
¨Scores　only　matter　if　theyˇre　very　good；　no　one　pays　much　attention　to　the　bad　or　mediocre　ones。　For　all　they　know；　you　could　be　hiding　your　talents　to　get　a　low　score　on　purpose。　People　use　that　strategy；〃　said　Portia。
¨I　hope　thatˇs　how　people　interpret　the　four　Iˇll　probably　get；〃　says　Peeta。　¨If　that。　Really；　is　anything　less　impressive　than　watching　a　person　pick　up　a　heavy　ball　and　throw　it　a　couple　of　yards。　One　almost　landed　on　my　foot。〃
I　grin　at　him　and　realize　that　Iˇm　starving。　I　cut　off　a　piece　of　pork；　dunk　it　in　mashed　potatoes；　and　start　eating。　Itˇs　okay。　My　family　is　safe。　And　if　they　are　safe；　no　real　harm　has　been　done。
After　dinner；　we　go　to　sitting　room　to　watch　the　scores　announced　on　television。　First　they　show　a　photo　of　the　tribute；　then　flash　their　score　below　it。　The　Career　Tributes　naturally　get　in　the　eight…to…ten　range。　Most　of　the　other　players　average　a　five。　Surprisingly；　little　Rue　es　up　with　a　seven。　I　donˇt　know　what　she　showed　the　judges；　but　sheˇs　so　tiny　it　must　have　been　impressive。
District　12　es　up　last；　as　usual。　Peeta　pulls　an　eight　so　at　least　a　couple　of　the　Gamemakers　must　have　been　watching　him。　I　dig　my　fingernails　into　my　palms　as　my　face　es　up；　expecting　the　worst。　Then　theyˇre　flashing　the　number　eleven　on　the　screen。
Eleven！
Effie　Trinket　lets　out　a　squeal；　and　everybody　is　slapping　me　on　the　back　and　cheering　and　congratulating　me。　But　it　doesnˇt　seem　real。
¨There　must　be　a　mistake。　How　。　。　。　how　could　that　happen？〃　I　ask　Haymitch。
¨Guess　they　liked　your　temper；〃　he　says。　¨Theyˇve　got　a　show　to　put　on。　They　need　some　players　with　some　heat。〃
¨Katniss；　the　girl　who　was　on　fire；〃　says　Cinna　and　gives　me　a　hug。　¨Oh；　wait　until　you　see　your　interview　dress。〃　¨More　flames？〃　I　ask。　¨Of　a　sort；〃　he　says　mischievously。
Peeta　and　I　congratulate　each　other；　another　awkward　moment。　Weˇve　both　done　well；　but　what　does　that　mean　for　the　other？　I　escape　to　my　room　as　quickly　as　possible　and　burrow　down　under　the　covers。　The　stress　of　the　day；　particularly　the　crying；　has　worn　me　out。　I　drift　off；　reprieved；　relieved；　and　with　the　number　eleven　still　flashing　behind　my　eyelids。
At　dawn；　I　lie　in　bed　for　a　while；　watching　the　sun　e　up　on　a　beautiful　morning。　Itˇs　Sunday。　A　day　off　at　home。　I　wonder　if　Gale　is　in　the　woods　yet。　Usually　we　devote　all　of　Sunday　to　stocking　up　for　the　week。　Rising　early；　hunting　and　gathering；　then　trading　at　the　Hob。　I　think　of　Gale　without　me。　Both　of　us　can　hunt　alone；　but　weˇre　better　as　a　pair。　Particularly　if　weˇre　trying　for　bigger　game。　But　also　in　the　littler　things；　having　a　partner　lightened　the　load；　could　even　make　the　arduous　task　of　filling　my　familyˇs　table　enjoyable。
I　had　been　struggling　along　on　my　own　for　about　six　months　when　I　first　ran　into　Gale　in　the　woods。　It　was　a　Sunday　in　October；　the　air　cool　and　pungent　with　dying　things。　Iˇd　spent　the　morning　peting　with　the　squirrels　for　nuts　and　the　slightly　warmer　afternoon　wading　in　shallow　ponds　harvesting　katniss。　The　only　meat　Iˇd　shot　was　a　squirrel　that　had　practically　run　over　my　toes　in　its　quest　for　acorns；　but　the　animals　would　still　be　afoot　when　the　snow　buried　my　other　food　sources。　Having　strayed　farther　afield　than　usual；　I　was　hurrying　back　home；　lugging　my　burlap　sacks　when　I　came　across　a　dead　rabbit。　It　was　hanging　by　its　neck　in　a　thin　wire　a　foot　above　my　head。　About　fifteen　yards　away　was　another。　I　recognized　the　twitch…up　snares　because　my　father　had　used　them。　When　the　prey　is　caught；　itˇs　yanked　into　the　air　out　of　the　reach　of　other　hungry　animals。　Iˇd　been　trying　to　use　snares　all　summer　with　no　success；　so　I　couldnˇt　help　dropping　my　sacks　to　examine　this　one。　My　fingers　were　just　on　the　wire　above　one　of　the　rabbits　when　a　voice　rang　out。　¨Thatˇs　dangerous。〃
I　jumped　back　several　feet　as　Gale　materialized　from　behind　a　tree。　He　must　have　been　watching　me　the　whole　time。　He　was　only　fourteen；　but　he　cleared　six　feet　and　was　as　good　as　an　adult　to　me。　Iˇd　seen　him　around　the　Seam　and　at　school。　And　one　other　time。　Heˇd　lost　his　father　in　the　same　blast　that　killed　mine。　In　January；　Iˇd　stood　by　while　he　received　his　medal　of　valor　in　the　Justice　Building；　another　oldest　child　with　no　father。　I　remembered　his　two　little　brothers　clutching　his　mother；　a　woman　whose　swollen　belly　announced　she　was　just　days　away　from　giving　birth。
¨Whatˇs　your　name？〃　he　said；　ing　over　and　disengaging　the　rabbit　from　the　snare。　He　had　another　three　hanging　from　his　belt。
¨Katniss；〃　I　said；　barely　audible。
¨Well；　Catnip；　stealingˇs　punishable　by　death；　or　hadnˇt　you　heard？〃　he　said。
¨Katniss；〃　I　said　louder。　¨And　I　wasnˇt　stealing　it。　I　just　wanted　to　look　at　your　snare。　Mine　never　catch　anything。〃
He　scowled　at　me；　not　convinced。　¨So　whereˇd　you　get　the　squirrel？〃
¨I　shot　it。〃　I　pulled　my　bow　off　my　shoulder。　I　was　still　using　the　small　version　my　father　had　made　me；　but　Iˇd　been　practicing　with　the　full…size　one