I can still do this

chapter 11

A hand on my shoulder wakes me up. "Katniss."

I pull open my heavy eyelids and find myself looking into Cato's blue eyes. "Hi," I mumble. "What time is it?"

"Midnight."

I start to stretch my arms and legs, but then they stick out of the blanket on top of me, so I curl back up again. "And you're not dead. That's good," I observe sleepily.

"Yeah." He almost smiles. "I guess that is." His face gets serious again. "Did you hear anything while you were out?"

"Yeah, something about President Snow?" I frown. "Maybe? I smelled him. Is he here?"

"No. But he was."

"What'd he want?"

Cato doesn't answer. "Can I..." he starts to ask.

"Yeah, sure, come sit down."

He sits next to me again, but he's not loopy anymore. He's very serious. "Do you really not hate me?" he asks.

"Yeah, no, I don't."

"How much do you not hate me?"

"Why does it matter?" I try to smile, to lighten the moment, but it doesn't work.

"It does, okay, it just... does."

"Just tell me what you want me to do," I sigh, slightly annoyed with how weird he's being.

"I, um..."

"Where's Haymitch?" I am definitely frustrated now. Without waiting for his answer, I get up and walk straight for Haymitch's bedroom. "Haymitch!" I shout, exasperated, ignoring Cato, who's following me.

"It's for your own good," Haymitch says, without turning to look at me.

I glare at him. "What the hell are you talking about? Is there something going on that I don't know about?" I ask him and Cato, crossing my arms.

"No," Cato says.

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "You didn't even tell her?" he says to Cato.

"I didn't have the chance."

"Tell me what?" I say dangerously.

"Calm down, sweetheart," Haymitch chuckles.

I am not calm. For the second time, my mentor and a boy are talking vaguely about me. "Just tell me what you want me to do," I repeat, taking several deep breaths.

"Alright. Remember our long-term plan?" Haymitch asks, deadpan.

"Friendship?" I say hopefully.

"Oh great," Haymitch sighs. "Not this again." He turns to Cato. "She's been in denial about this love thing from the start. With him and with you."

"I'm not in love with-"

He stops me. "Maybe you could try listening, sweetheart." He's definitely saying that sarcastically; I've made him upset. He needs me to be insightful. He needs me to be smart here.

I remember the plan now, the one he told me about quickly before the interview. I have to be love-struck. I have to be in love with Cato. Guess I blocked that somehow.

But he'd said we'd work up to that. He said I'd have time. He said I had to be in mourning. "The plan," I say shakily. "But what about Peeta? I have to... get over him."

"Okay," Cato nods.

"And what about our credibility? They'll know we're faking it."

"Kidding me? You've been doing nothing but setting the stage," Haymitch snorts.