Katniss wakes me up so that I can take the second watch.
"Tomorrow, when it's dry, I'll find us a place so high up in the threes we can both sleep in place," she promises as she drifts off.
But tomorrow arrives and the weather is not improving. The storm continues as though the Gamemakers are intent on washing us all away. The thunder is so powerful it seems to shake the ground.
"Maybe I should go out to scavenge some roots or something," I say. "We need food."
"No. It's pointless to go out now. You won't be able to see three feet in front of your face. You'll just get soaked for no reason," she points out.
I know she's right, but the knowing in our stomachs is becoming painful.
The day drags on turning into evening and there's no break in the weather. Haymitch is our only hope now.
"Peeta," Katniss says after a long silence. "You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"
I'm a little startled by her sudden curiosity, but answer her truthfully.
"Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school," I say and vivid memories flash before my eyes. "We were five," I tell her. "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."
"Your father?" she asks surprised. "Why?"
"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" I recall.
"What? You're making that up!" she exclaims with wide eyes.
"No, true story," I assure her. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings…even the birds stop to listen.'"
"That's true," she agrees with distant eyes. "They do. I mean they did," she corrects herself.
"So that day," I continue with my story, "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," I say remembering the day my life was fated to this girls will, "every bird outside the windows fell silent."
"Oh, please," she laughs, her face taking a soft pink tone.
"No, it happened," I tell her looking into her eyes. "And right when the song ended, I knew – just like your mother – I was a goner. Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you." Damn myself to the deepest pits of hell for having wasted all that precious time.
"Without success," she adds.
"Without success," I agree. "So in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck."
I watch her face carefully as her eyes stare into nothing in particular; her expression is a little bemused.
"You have a…" she struggles for the right words, "remarkable memory," she says hesitantly.
"I remember everything about you," I tell her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."
"I am now."
"Well, I don't have much competition here," I point out. I mean, if you had to choose between snuggling with someone who intends to kill you in a sadistic way, and someone who would give his life for you…
"You don't have much competition anywhere," she whispers tenderly and leans toward me.
Our lips have just barely touched when a clunk outside makes us jump. I peer through the rocks and childishly "Whoop!" at the sight of a basket attached to a silver parachute. I reach out for it and then hand it to Katniss. She rips it open at once and my mouth waters at its contents – fresh rolls, goat cheese, apples, and lamb stew on wild rice.
