Catching Fire

out the knots, while my mother coaxes tea and toast into me. They dress me in warm pajamas and layer more blankets on me and I drift off again.
    I can tell by the light it’s late afternoon when I come round again. There’s a glass of water on my bedside table and I gulp it down thirstily. My stomach and head still feel rocky, but much better than they did earlier. I rise, dress, and braid back my hair. Before I go down, I pause at the top of the stairs, feeling slightly embarrassed about the way I’ve handled the news of the Quarter Quell. My erratic flight, drinking with Haymitch, weeping. Given the circumstances, I guess I deserve one day of indulgence. I’m glad the cameras weren’t here for it, though.
    Downstairs, my mother and Prim embrace me again, but they’re not overly emotional. I know they’re holding things in to make it easier on me. Looking at Prim’s face, it’s hard to imagine she’s the same frail little girl I left behind on reaping day nine months ago. The combination of that ordeal and all that has followed — the cruelty in the district, the parade of sick and wounded that she often treats by herself now if my mother’s hands are too full — these things have aged her years. She’s grown quite a bit, too; we’re practically the same height now, but that isn’t what makes her seem so much older.
    My mother ladles out a mug of broth for me, and I ask for a second mug to take to Haymitch. Then I walk across the lawn to his house. He’s only just waking up and accepts the mug without comment. We sit there, almost peacefully, sipping our broth and watching the sun set through his living room window. I hear someone walking around upstairs and I assume it’s Hazelle, but a few minutes later Peeta comes down and tosses a cardboard box of empty liquor bottles on the table with finality.
    “There, it’s done,” he says.
    It’s taking all of Haymitch’s resources to focus his eyes on the bottles, so I speak up. “What’s done?”
    “I’ve poured all the liquor down the drain,” says Peeta.
    This seems to jolt Haymitch out of his stupor, and he paws through the box in disbelief. “You what?”
    “I tossed the lot,” says Peeta.
    “He’ll just buy more,” I say.
    “No, he won’t,” says Peeta. “I tracked down Ripper this morning and told her I’d turn her in the second she sold to either of you. I paid her off, too, just for good measure, but I don’t think she’s eager to be back in the Peacekeepers’ custody.”
    Haymitch takes a swipe with his knife but Peeta deflects it so easily it’s pathetic. Anger rises up in me. “What business is it of yours what he does?”
    “It’s completely my business. However it falls out, two of us are going to be in the arena again with the other as mentor. We can’t afford any drunkards on this team. Especially not you, Katniss,” says Peeta to me.
    “What?” I sputter indignantly. It would be more convincing if I weren’t still so hungover. “Last night’s the only time I’ve ever even been drunk.”
    “Yeah, and look at the shape you’re in,” says Peeta.
    I don’t know what I expected from my first meeting with Peeta after the announcement. A few hugs and kisses. A little comfort maybe. Not this. I turn to Haymitch. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you more liquor.”
    “Then I’ll turn you both in. Let you sober up in the stocks,” says Peeta.
    “What’s the point to this?” asks Haymitch.
    “The point is that two of us are coming home from the Capitol. One mentor and one victor,” says Peeta. “Effie’s sending me recordings of all the living victors. We’re going to watch their Games and learn everything we can about how they fight. We’re going to put on weight and get strong. We’re going to start acting like Careers. And one of us is going to be victor again whether you two like it or not!” He sweeps out of the room, slamming the front door.
    Haymitch and I wince at the bang.
    “I don’t like self-righteous people,” I say.
    “What’s to like?” says Haymitch, who begins sucking the dregs out of the empty bottles.
    “You and me. That’s who he plans on coming home,” I say.
    “Well, then the joke’s on him,” says Haymitch.
    But after a few days, we agree to act like Careers, because this is the best way to get Peeta ready as well. Every night we watch the old recaps of the Games that the remaining victors won. I realize we never met any of them on the Victory Tour, which seems odd