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o more trouble。 So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts。 Do my ake only polite small talk in the public market。 Discuss little more than trades in the Hob； which is the black market where I make most of my money。 Even at home； where I am less pleasant； I avoid discussing tricky topics。 Like the reaping； or food shortages； or the Hunger Games。 Prim might begin to repeat my words and then where would we be？
In the woods waits the only person with whom I can be myself。 Gale。 I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing； my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place； a rock ledge overlooking a valley。 A thicket of berry bushes protects it from unwanted eyes。 The sight of him waiting there brings on a smile。 Gale says I never smile except in the woods。
¨Hey； Catnip；〃 says Gale。 My real name is Katniss； but when I first told him； I had barely whispered it。 So he thought Iˇd said Catnip。 Then when this crazy lynx started following me around the woods looking for handouts； it became his official nickname for me。 I finally had to kill the lynx because he scared off game。 I almost regretted it because he wasnˇt bad pany。 But I got a decent price for his pelt。
¨Look what I shot；〃 Gale holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it； and I laugh。 Itˇs real bakery bread； not the flat； dense loaves we make from our grain rations。 I take it in my hands； pull out the arrow； and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose； inhaling the fragrance that makes my mouth flood with saliva。 Fine bread like this is for special occasions。
¨Mm； still warm；〃 I say。 He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to trade for it。 ¨What did it cost you？〃
¨Just a squirrel。 Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning；〃 says Gale。 ¨Even wished me luck。〃
¨Well； we all feel a little closer today； donˇt we？〃 I say； not even bothering to roll my eyes。 ¨Prim left us a cheese。〃 I pull it out。
His expression brightens at the treat。 ¨Thank you； Prim。 Weˇll have a real feast。〃 Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket； the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the leaping。 ¨I almost forgot！ Happy Hunger Games！〃 He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us。 ¨And may the odds 〃 He tosses a berry in a high arc toward me。
I catch it in my mouth and break the delicate skin with my teeth。 The sweet tartness explodes across my tongue。 ¨ be ever in your favor！〃 I finish with equal verve。 We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared out of your wits。 Besides； the Capitol accent is so affected； almost anything sounds funny in it。
I watch as Gale pulls out his knife and slices the bread。 He could be my brother。 Straight black hair； olive skin； we even have the same gray eyes。 But weˇre not related； at least not closely。 Most of the families who work the mines resemble one another this way。
Thatˇs why my mother and Prim； with their light hair and blue eyes； always look out of place。 They are。 My motherˇs parents were part of the small merchant class that caters to officials； Peacekeepers； and the occasional Seam customer。 They ran an apothecary shop in the nicer part of District 12。 Since almost no one can afford doctors； apothecaries are our healers。 My father got to know my mother because on his hunts he would sometimes collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop to be brewed into remedies。 She must have really loved him to leave her home for the Seam。 I try to remember that when all I can see is the woman who sat by； blank and unreachable； while her children turned to skin and bones。 I try to forgive her for my fatherˇs sake。 But to be honest； Iˇm not the forgiving type。
Gale spreads the bread slices with the soft goat cheese； carefully placing a basil leaf on each while I strip the bushes of their berries。 We settle back in a nook in the rocks。 From this place； we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley； which is teeming with summer life； greens to gather； roots to dig； fish iridescent in the sunlight。 The day is glorious； with a blue sky and soft breeze。 The foodˇs wonderful； with the cheese seeping into the warm bread and the berries bursting in our mouths。 Everything would be perfect if this really was a holiday； if all the day off meant was roaming the mountains with Gale； hunting for tonightˇs supper。 But instead we have to be standing in the square at two oˇclock waiting for the names to be called out。
¨We could do it； you know；〃 Gale says quietly。
¨What？〃 I ask。
¨Leave the district。 Run off。 Live in the woods。 You and I； we could make it；〃 says Gale。
I donˇt know how to respond。 The idea is so preposterous。
¨If we didnˇt have so many kids；〃 he adds quickly。
Theyˇre not our kids； of course。 But they might as well be。 Galeˇs two little brothers and a sister。 Prim。 And you may as well throw in our mothers； too； because how would they live without us？ Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more？ With both of us hunting daily； there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelaces or wool； still nights when we go to bed with our stomachs growling。
¨I never want to have kids；〃 I say。
¨I might。 If I didnˇt live here；〃 says Gale。
¨But you do；〃 I say； irritated。
¨Forget it；〃 he snaps back。
The conversation feels all wrong。 Leave？ How could I leave Prim； who is the only person in the world Iˇm certain I love？ And Gale is devoted to his family。 We canˇt leave； so why bother talking about it？ And even if we did 。 。 。 even if we did 。 。 。 where did this stuff about having kids e from？ Thereˇs never been anything romantic between Gale and me。 When we met； I was a skinny twelve…year…old； and although he was only two years older； he already looked like a man。 It took a long time for us to even bee friends； to stop haggling over every trade and begin helping each other out。
Besides； if he wants kids； Gale wonˇt have any trouble finding a wife。 Heˇs good…looking； heˇs strong enough to handle the work in the mines； and he can hunt。 You can tell by the way t