¨Katniss？〃 Peeta says。 I meet his eyes； knowing my face must be some shade of green。 He mouths the words。 ¨How about that kiss？〃
I burst out laughing because the whole thing is so revolting I canˇt stand it。
¨Something wrong？〃 he asks a little too innocently。
¨I 。 。 。 Iˇm no good at this。 Iˇm not my mother。 Iˇve no idea what Iˇm doing and I hate pus；〃 I say。 ¨Euh！〃 I allow myself to let out a groan as I rinse away the first round of leaves and apply the second。 ¨Euuuh！〃
¨How do you hunt？〃 he asks。
¨Trust me。 Killing things is much easier than this；〃 I say。 ¨Although for all I know； I am killing you。〃
¨Can you speed it up a little？〃 he asks。
¨No。 Shut up and eat your pears；〃 I say。
After three applications and what seems like a bucket of pus； the wound does look better。 Now that the swelling has gone down； I can see how deep Catoˇs sword cut。 Right down to the bone。
¨What next； Dr。 Everdeen？〃 he asks。
¨Maybe Iˇll put some of the burn ointment on it。 I think it helps with infection anyway。 And wrap it up？〃 I say。 I do and the whole thing seems a lot more manageable； covered in clean white cotton。 Although； against the sterile bandage； the hem of his undershorts looks filthy and teeming with contagion。 I pull out Rueˇs backpack。 ¨Here； cover yourself with this and Iˇll wash your shorts。〃
¨Oh； I donˇt care if you see me；〃 says Peeta。
¨Youˇre just like the rest of my family；〃 I say。 ¨I care； all right？〃 I turn my back and look at the stream until the undershorts splash into the current。 He must be feeling a bit better if he can throw。
¨You knoish for such a lethal person；〃 says Peeta as I beat the shorts clean between two rocks。 ¨I wish Iˇd let you give Haymitch a shower after all。〃
I wrinkle my nose at the memory。 ¨Whatˇs he sent you so far？〃
¨Not a thing；〃 says Peeta。 Then thereˇs a pause as it hits him。 ¨Why； did you get something？〃
¨Burn medicine；〃 I say almost sheepishly。 ¨Oh； and some bread。〃
¨I always knew you were his favorite；〃 says Peeta。
¨Please； he canˇt stand being in the same room with me；〃 I say。
¨Because youˇre just alike；〃 mutters Peeta。 I ignore it though because this really isnˇt the time for me to be insulting Haymitch； which is my first impulse。
I let Peeta doze off while his clothes dry out； but by late afternoon； I donˇt dare wait any longer。 I gently shake his shoulder。 ¨Peeta； weˇve got to go now。〃
¨Go？〃 He seems confused。 ¨Go where？〃
¨Away from here。 Downstream maybe。 Somewhere we can hide you until youˇre stronger；〃 I say。 I help him dress； leaving his feet bare so we can walk in the water； and pull him upright。 His face drains of color the moment he puts weight on his leg。 ¨e on。 You can do this。〃
But he canˇt。 Not for long anyway。 We make it about fifty yards downstream； with him propped up by my shoulder； and I can tell heˇs going to black out。 I sit him on the bank； push his head between his knees； and pat his back awkwardly as I survey the area。 Of course； Iˇd love to get him up in a tree； but thatˇs not going to happen。 It could be worse though。 Some of the rocks form small cavelike structures。 I set my sights on one about twenty yards above the stream。 When Peetaˇs able to stand； I half…guide； half…carry him up to the cave。 Really； Iˇd like to look around for a better place； but this one will have to do because my ally is shot。 Paper white； panting； and； even though itˇs only just cooling off； heˇs shivering。
I cover the floor of the cave with a layer of pine needles； unroll my sleeping bag； and tuck him into it。 I get a couple of pills and some water into him when heˇs not noticing； but he refuses to eat even the fruit。 Then he just lies there； his eyes trained on my face as I build a sort of blind out of vines to conceal the mouth of the cave。 The result is unsatisfactory。 An animal might not question it； but a human would see hands had manufactured it quickly enough。 I tear it down in frustration。
¨Katniss；〃 he says。 I go over to him and brush the hair back from his eyes。 ¨Thanks for finding me。〃
¨You would have found me if you could；〃 I say。 His foreheadˇs burning up。 Like the medicineˇs having no effect at all。 Suddenly； out of nowhere； Iˇm scared heˇs going to die。
¨Yes。 Look； if I donˇt make it back 〃 he begins。
¨Donˇt talk like that。 I didnˇt drain all that pus for nothing；〃 I say。
¨I know。 But just in case I donˇt 〃 he tries to continue。
¨No； Peeta； I donˇt even want to discuss it；〃 I say； placing my fingers on his lips to quiet him。
¨But I 〃 he insists。
Impulsively； I lean forward and kiss him； stopping his words。 This is probably overdue anyway since heˇs right； we are supposed to be madly in love。 Itˇs the first time Iˇve ever kissed a boy； which should make some sort of impression I guess； but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever。 I break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag up around him。 ¨Youˇre not going to die。 I forbid it。 All right？〃
¨All right；〃 he whispers。
I step out in the cool evening air just as the parachute floats down from the sky。 My fingers quickly undo the tie； hoping for some real medicine to treat Peetaˇs leg。 Instead I find a pot of hot broth。
Haymitch couldnˇt be sending me a clearer message。 One kiss equals one pot of broth。 I can almost hear his snarl。 ¨Youˇre supposed to be in love； sweetheart。 The boyˇs dying。 Give me something I can work with！〃
And heˇs right。 If I want to keep Peeta alive； Iˇve got to give the audience something more to care about。 Star…crossed lovers desperate to get home together。 Two hearts beating as one。 Romance。
Never having been in love； this is going to be a real trick。 I think of my parents。 The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods。 The way my motherˇs face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door。 The way she almost stopped living when he died。
¨Peeta！〃 I say； trying for the special tone that my mother used only with my father。 Heˇs dozed off again； but I kiss him awake； which seems to startle him。 Then he smiles as if heˇd be happy to lie there gazing at me forever。 Heˇs great at this stuff。
I hold up the pot。 ¨Peeta； look what Haymitch has sent you。〃
20
Getting the broth into Peeta takes an hour of coaxing； begging； threatening； and yes； kissing； but finally； sip by sip； he empties the pot。 I let him drift off to sleep then and attend to my own needs； wolfing down a supper of groosling and roots while I watch the daily report in the sky。 No new casualties。 Still； Peeta and I have given the audience a fairly interesting day。 Hopefully； the Gamemakers will allow us a peaceful night。
I automatically look around for a good tree to nest in before I realize thatˇs over。 At least for a while。 I canˇt very well leave Peeta unguarded on the ground。 I left the scene of his last hiding place on the bank of the stream untouched how could I conceal it？ and weˇre a scant fifty yards downstream。 I put on my glasses； place my weapons in readiness； and settle down to keep watch。
The temperature drops rapidly and soon Iˇm chilled to the bone。 Eventually； I give in and slide into the sleeping bag with Peeta。 Itˇs toasty warm and I snuggle down gratefully until I realize itˇs more than warm； itˇs overly hot because the bag is reflecting back his fever。 I check his forehead and find it burning and dry。 I donˇt know what to do。 Leave him in the bag and hope the excessive heat breaks the fever？ Take him out and hope the night air cools him off？ I end up just dampening a strip of bandage and placing it on his forehead。 It seems weak； but Iˇm afraid to do anything too drastic。
I spend the night half…sitting； half…lying next to Peeta； refreshing the bandage； and trying not to dwell on the fact that by teaming up with him； Iˇve made myself far more vulnerable than when I was alone。 Tethered to the ground； on guard； with a very sick person to take care of。 But I knew he was injured。 And still I came after him。 Iˇm just going to have to trust that whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one。
When the sky turns rosy； I notice the sheen of sweat on Peetaˇs lip and discover the