“I'm not good at talking about myself.”

“So at least half the victors have instructed their mentors to request you as an ally. I know it can't be your sunny personality.”“They saw her shoot,” says Peeta with a smile. “Actually, I saw her shoot, for real, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself.”“You're that good?” Haymitch asks me.”

“Myself? That's no good, either.”

“Good. I'm starving.”

“I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.”

“For a second, I'm afraid he's dying. I have to remind myself that I don't care.”

“To me, there's no point in talking about things that might have been.”