“Great. Now I have to go back and tell Haymitch I want an eighty-year-old and Nuts and Volts for my allies. He'll love that.”

“Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or i'll never go back to him. I'll die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me.”

“Got it," I say. "Did you tell Peeta this?""Don't have to," says Haymitch. "He's already there.”

“In the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too.”

“Fine, than I will not have to blame you for killing my friends with your stupidity. -Haymitch”

“I thought he wanted it, anyway," I say. "Not like this," Haymitch says. "He wanted it to be real.”

“Here's some advice. Stay alive," says Haymitch, and then bursts out laughing. I exchange a look with Peeta before I remember that I'm having nothing more to do with him. I'm surprised to see the hardness in his eyes. He generally seems so mild. 'That's very funny,' says Peeta. Suddenly, he lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's hand. It shatters on the floor, sending the bloodred liquid running toward the back of the train. 'Only not to us.'Haymitch considers this a moment, then punches Peeta in the jaw, knocking him from his chair. When he turns back to reach for the spirits, I drive my knife into the table between his hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers. I brace myself to deflect his hit, but it doesn't come. Instead, he sits back and squints at us.'Well, what's this?' says Haymitch. 'Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?”