Sparks Fly

Chapter 4

We slog back to the train in silence. In the hallway outside my door, Haymitch gives my shoulder a pat and says, "You could do a lot worse, you know."

"I know. He's not the problem." I hesitate. "I just feel as if . . . as if I don't have control over what happens in my own life," I say.

"Well then take some control. Your future may be inevitable, but you can face it on your own terms. That boy just wants some part of it to be real -- and he deserves as much. I'm not saying to what extent, but maybe icing him out isn't the best way to go about it. For either of you."

Haymitch shakes his head and walks off to his compartment, taking the smell of wine with him.

In my room, I remove my sodden slippers, my wet robe and pajamas. There are more in the drawers but I just crawl between the covers of my bed in my underclothes. I stare into the darkness, thinking about my conversation with Haymitch. Everything he said was true about the Capitol's expectations, my future with Peeta. But that isn't really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. Surely President Snow will insist we have children. Children who will have to face the Reaping each year. And wouldn't it be something to see the child two victors chosen for the arena? Victors' children have been in the ring before. It always causes a lot of excitement and generates talk about how the odds are not in that family's favor. But it happens too frequently to just be about odds. Given all the trouble I've caused, I've probably guaranteed any child of mine a spot in the Games.

My mind lingers on Haymitch's last comment. That I can have the future that President Snow wants for me and still find happiness in it, still play by my rules. But that would have to start with Peeta. And what I may or may not feel for him. I knew the star-crossed lovers act was never an act on his part, but just how much of my own performance was for the audience? How much was for myself? Even so, I can't stand to let President Snow dictate my life. I'll try to run away. What would they do if I simply vanished? Disappeared into the woods and never came out? Could I even manage to take everyone I love with me, start a new life deep in the wild? Highly unlikely but not impossible.

I shake my head to clear it. I must focus on the Victory Tour. Too many people's fates depend on my giving a good show.

Dawn comes before sleep does, and there's Effie rapping on my door. I don't see what difference it makes when I get up, since this is a travel day, but then it turns out that yesterday's makeover was just to get me to the train station. Today I'll get the works from my prep team.

"Why? It's too cold for anything to show," I grumble.

"Not in District Eleven," says Effie.

District 11. Our first stop. I'd rather start in any other district, since this was Rue's home. But that's not how the Victory Tour works. Usually it kicks off in 12 and then goes in descending district order to 1, followed by the Capitol. The victor's district is skipped and saved for very last. Since 12 puts on the least fabulous celebration - usually just a dinner for the tributes and a victory rally in the square, where nobody looks like they're having any fun - it's probably best to get us out of the way as soon as possible. This year, for the first time since Haymitch won, the final stop on the tour will be 12, and the Capitol will spring for the festivities.

I try to enjoy the food like Hazelle said. The kitchen staff clearly wants to please me. They've prepared my favorite, lamb stew with dried plums, among other delicacies. So I eat a lot, and the meal is beyond reproach, but I can't say I'm enjoying it. I'm also annoyed that no one but Effie and I has shown up.

"Where's everybody else?" I ask.

"Oh, who knows where Haymitch is," says Effie. I didn't really expect Haymitch, because he's probably just getting to bed. "Cinna was up late working on organizing your garment car. He must have over a hundred outfits for you. Your evening clothes are exquisite. And Peeta's team is probably still asleep."