--» 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 «--

Chapter Thirteen

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie shrills outside of my doorway.

I got, at a maximum, five fitful hours of sleep. I forcefully drag myself out of the warm bed to answer the door, which Effie is rapping consistently on. I fling it open, an excuse equipped on my tongue, but she's already down the hall and has moved onto Katniss's door. I moan, shutting it and crawling back into bed. Five more minutes, I think. My eyes close, and just as I'm falling asleep, Effie's heels come clicking down the hallway. I scramble out of bed because being in trouble with Effie is even worse than running on five hours of rest for the day. This time, instead of a shrill, it's a screech. "Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!" She clicks past my door as I dig through the dresser, looking for a neutral outfit that will suit me until we arrive at the Capitol. We're close to the Capitol by this point, the speed of the train being too fast for us not to be. Overall, it will have been less than a day's travel. I dress in pair of blue jeans and a loose white long-sleeve and head to the dining compartment, where Effie is on a caffeine high from the black coffee she's drinking, and Haymitch is drinking a glass of liquor.

"Guess you never learn your lesson," I mumble as I walk past Haymitch. He pulls at the neck of my shirt, stopping me in my tracks.

"You better shut your mouth, boy," he snaps, his grip on my shirt growing tighter as his knuckles whiten. "Because we don't need another victor for 12, I could do just fine without you." He shoves me away and slumps back into his chair, and I don't hesitate to walk off before he gets a second look at my shocked face. I grab a shiny roll of bread from one of the many baskets at the buffet and sit delicately in a chair as far away from Haymitch as I can find. I toss the roll of bread from hand to hand, embarrassed, as Haymitch chuckles and mutters something to himself. Katniss walks into the room in the same clothes she'd put on yesterday after her shower, an oversized green t-shirt and blue jeans.

"Sit down, sit down!" Haymitch says as he waves her over. She slides into a chair next to him, and a Capitol worker serves her a large plate of food; filled with eggs, ham, and an enormous pile of fried potatoes. She clears her plate and drinks her glass of orange juice in one sitting but looks warily at the mug of hot chocolate situated in front of her.

"They call it hot chocolate," I say, grinning, amused by her concern toward the delightful drink. "It's good." She takes a small sip, but once the flavor meets her tongue, she can't seem to get enough. After a few gulps, her mug is empty, but I'm dipping bits of my golden roll into the creamy drink and popping them into my mouth, satisfied with the sweetness of the combination.

"So, you're supposed to give us advice," Katniss says to Haymitch, hatred nudging its way through her voice.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive," Haymitch says, cracking himself up. This statement is what crosses the line.

"That's very funny," I say, hurling my hand at his glass, sending it and the bloodred liquid inside across the room and to the back of the train. "Only not to us." And this is what crosses Haymitch's line because, after a moment of consideration, he launches his fist out and punches me in the face, and I fall to the ground.