“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.”

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

“When I ask Plutarch about his absence, he just shakes his head and says, "He couldnt face it.""Haymitch? Not able to face something? Wanted a day off, more likely," I say."I think his actual words were 'I couldn't face it without a bottle,'" says Plutarch.”

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

“That's right. Who am I thinking of? Oh, I know. It's Cinna who likes you. But that's mainly because you didn't try to run when he set you on fire," says Peeta. "On the other hand, Haymitch... well, if I were you, I'd avoid Haymitch completely. He hates you.”

“I know we promised Haymitch, we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle.' 'Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?' says Peeta. 'With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame,' I say.”

“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?”