I raise my eyebrows before I remember he doesnˇt know about the message Haymitch sent us a couple of nights ago。 One kiss equals one pot of broth。 Itˇs not the sort of thing I can blurt out； either。 To say my thoughts aloud would be tipping off the audience that the romance has been fabricated to play on their sympathies and that would result in no food at all。 Somehow； believably； Iˇve got to get things back on track。 Something simple to start with。 I reach out and take his hand。
¨Well； he probably used up a lot of resources helping me knock you out；〃 I say mischievously。
¨Yeah； about that；〃 says Peeta； entwining his fingers in mine。 ¨Donˇt try something like that again。〃
¨Or what？〃 I ask。
¨Or 。 。 。 or 。 。 。〃 He canˇt think of anything good。 ¨Just give me a minute。〃
¨Whatˇs the problem？〃 I say with a grin。
¨The problem is weˇre both still alive。 Which only reinforces the idea in your mind that you did the right thing；〃 says Peeta。
¨I did do the right thing；〃 I say。
¨No！ Just donˇt； Katniss！〃 His grip tightens； hurting my hand； and thereˇs real anger in his voice。 ¨Donˇt die for me。 You wonˇt be doing me any favors。 All right？〃
Iˇm startled by his intensity but recognize an excellent opportunity for getting food； so I try to keep up。 ¨Maybe I did it for myself； Peeta； did you ever think of that？ Maybe you arenˇt the only one who 。 。 。 who worries about 。 。 。 what it would be like if。 。 。〃
I fumble。 Iˇm not as smooth with words as Peeta。 And while I was talking； the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I donˇt want him to die。 And itˇs not about the sponsors。 And itˇs not about what will happen back home。 And itˇs not just that I donˇt want to be alone。 Itˇs him。 I do not want to lose the boy with the bread。
¨If what； Katniss？〃 he says softly。
I wish I could pull the shutters closed； blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem。 Even if it means losing food。 Whatever Iˇm feeling； itˇs no oneˇs business but mine。
¨Thatˇs exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of；〃 I say evasively； although Haymitch never said anything of the kind。 In fact； heˇs probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment。 But Peeta somehow catches it。
¨Then Iˇll just have to fill in the blanks myself；〃 he says； and moves in to me。
This is the first kiss that weˇre both fully aware of。 Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious。 Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold。 This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest。 Warm and curious。 This is the first kiss that makes me want another。
But I donˇt get it。 Well； I do get a second kiss； but itˇs just a light one on the tip of my nose because Peetaˇs been distracted。 ¨I think your wound is bleeding again。 e on； lie down； itˇs bedtime anyway；〃 he says。
My socks are dry enough to wear now。 I make Peeta put his jacket back on。 The damp cold seems to cut right down to my bones； so he must be half frozen。 I insist on taking the first watch； too； although neither of us think itˇs likely anyone will e in this weather。 But he wonˇt agree unless Iˇm in the bag； too； and Iˇm shivering so hard that itˇs pointless to object。 In stark contrast to two nights ago； when I felt Peeta was a million miles away； Iˇm struck by his immediacy now。 As we settle in； he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow； the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep。 No one has held me like this in such a long time。 Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother； no one elseˇs arms have made me feel this safe。
With the aid of the glasses； I lie watching the drips of water splatter on the cave floor。 Rhythmic and lulling。 Several times； I drift off briefly and then snap awake； guilty and angry with myself。 After three or four hours； I canˇt help it； I have to rouse Peeta because I canˇt keep my eyes open。 He doesnˇt seem to mind。
¨Tomorrow； when itˇs dry； Iˇll find us a place so high in the trees we can both sleep in peace；〃 I promise as I drift off。
But tomorrow is no better in terms of weather。 The deluge continues as if the Gamemakers are intent on washing us all away。 The thunderˇs so powerful it seems to shake the ground。 Peetaˇs considering heading out anyway to scavenge for food； but I tell him in this storm it would be pointless。 He wonˇt be able to see three feet in front of his face and heˇll only end up getting soaked to the skin for his troubles。 He knows Iˇm right； but the gnawing in our stomachs is being painful。
The day drags on turning into evening and thereˇs no break in the weather。 Haymitch is our only hope； but nothing is forthing； either from lack of money everything will cost an exorbitant amount or because heˇs dissatisfied with our performance。 Probably the latter。 Iˇd be the first to admit weˇre not exactly riveting today。 Starving； weak from injuries； trying not to reopen wounds。 Weˇre sitting huddled together wrapped in the sleeping bag； yes； but mostly to keep warm。 The most exciting thing either of us does is nap。
Iˇm not really sure how to ramp up the romance。 The kiss last night was nice； but working up to another will take some forethought。 There are girls in the Seam； some of the merchant girls； too； who navigate these waters so easily。 But Iˇve never had much time or use for it。 Anyway； just a kiss isnˇt enough anymore clearly because if it was weˇd have gotten food last night。 My instincts tell me Haymitch isnˇt just looking for physical affection； he wants something more personal。 The sort of stuff he was trying to get me to tell about myself when we were practicing for the interview。 Iˇm rotten at it； but Peetaˇs not。 Maybe the best approach is to get him talking。
¨Peeta；〃 I say lightly。 ¨You said at the interview youˇd had a crush on me forever。 When did forever start？〃
¨Oh； letˇs see。 I guess the first day of school。 We were five。 You had on a red plaid dress and your hair 。 。 。 it was in two braids instead of one。 My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up；〃 Peeta says。
¨Your father？ Why？〃 I ask。
¨He said； ˉSee that little girl？ I wanted to marry her mother； but she ran off with a coal miner；ˇ〃 Peeta says。
¨What？ Youˇre making that up！〃 I exclaim。
¨No； true story；〃 Peeta says。 ¨And I said； ˉA coal miner？ Why did she want a coal miner if she couldˇve had you？ˇ And he said； ˉBecause when he sings 。 。 。 even the birds stop to listen。ˇ〃
¨Thatˇs true。 They do。 I mean； they did；〃 I say。 Iˇm stunned and surprisingly moved； thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta。 It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing； my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think itˇs a waste of time。 It might be because it reminds me too much of my father。
¨So that day； in music assembly； the teacher asked who knew the valley song。 Your hand shot right up in the air。 She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us。 And I swear； every bird outside the windows fell silent；〃 Peeta says。
¨Oh； please；〃 I say； laughing。
¨No； it happened。 And right when your song ended； I knew just like your mother I was a goner；〃 Peeta says。 ¨Then for the next eleven years； I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you。〃
¨Without success；〃 I add。
¨Without success。 So； in a way； my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck；〃 says Peeta。
For a moment； Iˇm almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me。 Because weˇre supposed to be making up this stuff； playing at being in love not actually being in love。 But Peetaˇs story has a ring of truth to it。 That part about my father and the birds。 And I did sing the first day of school； although I donˇt remember the song。 And that red plaid dress 。 。 。 there was one； a hand…me…down to Prim that got washed to rags after my fatherˇs death。
It would explain another thing； too。 Why Peeta took a beating to give me the bread on that awful hollow day。 So； if those details are true 。 。 。 could it all be true？
¨You have a 。 。 。 remarkable memory；〃 I say haltingly。
¨I remember everything about you；〃 say