But I Don't Know What

How Are You Managing? And Don't Say You're Fine." It's True. Whatever The Opposite Of Fine Is, That's What I Am.

Finnick!" Something Between A Shriek And A Cry Of Joy. A Lovely If Somewhat Bedraggled Young Woman--dark Tangled Hair, Sea Green Eyes--runs Toward Us In Nothing But A Sheet. "finnick!" And Suddenly, It's As If There's No One In The World But These Two, Crashing Through Space To Reach Each Other. They Collide, Enfold, Lose Their Balance, And Slam Against A Wall, Where They Stay. Clinging Into One Being. Indivisible. A Pang Of Jealousy Hits Me. Not For Either Finnick Or Annie But For Their Certainty. No One Seeing Them Could Doubt Their Love.

Even Though I Don't Ask, Plutarch Gives Me Cheerful Updates On The Phone Like "good News, Katniss! I Think We've Almost Got Him Convinced You're Not A Mutt!" Or "today He Was Allowed To Feed Himself Pudding!

Do It. Before They Send Those Mutts Back Or Something. I Don't Want To Die Like Cato," He Says. “then You Shoot Me," I Say Furiously, Shoving The Weapons Back At Him. "you Shoot Me And Go Home And Live With It!" And As I Say It, I Know Death Right Here, Right Now Would Be The Easier Of The Two.

No. Now, Shut Up And Eat Your Pears.