I can still do this

chapter 22

Instantly, I know what they both were talking about. He's completely, radically different, even in small ways, like how he holds himself. He always walked like a Career, with his chest out and his chin up, but I know how he walked when he was here with me last, and it wasn't like this. He's more scared, looking around at everything with more paranoia then before, but he's also more angry, like the first time I saw him after the parade. And I don't know what to think.

"Are you okay?" I whisper to him as he sits down, before the cameras start rolling.

He won't even meet my eyes. Worse than that, though, is the fact that it seems to be out of some kind of contempt, not fear or shame.

"Cato," I say louder, trying for some kind of reaction.

I get one. His eyes flick up to mine for a fraction of a second, ice-cold with rage, and he says, "Save it for the interview."

Not a particularly cutting statement. Not one that should tear me apart the way it does. But his tone is what's absolutely chilling. If I didn't know him, I'd think he hated me.

The lights turn on, we're introduced, and it's time to be friendly. I've picked up enough from Cinna to convince them I know what I'm talking about when I discuss my newly-acquired passion for useless clothes designing.

Cato's another person when he's being interviewed - friendly, cool, together - and he takes my hand halfway through the interview. But that's different, too; his hand isn't comforting around mine. It's cold, impersonal, and very clearly just for show. And when asked about our relationship, he deflects the question and never answers it.

Something's seriously wrong, and it's infuriating that I have to act civil for the cameras before I know what's going on with him. Somehow, I make it through the whole thing, make my good impression, and hold myself together while the crew packs up again. Cato tries to leave with them, but Haymitch holds him back. I almost think they're going to fight, but Gale steps in, too, and reluctantly, Cato stays.

Haymitch speaks first when the media is gone. "What has gotten into you, boy?"

"You have no right to talk to me like this," Cato says, his lip twitching into a snarl.

"I have every right. Do you know how worried she was?" Haymitch motions at me.

Cato doesn't even look at me. "Worried about her reputation, maybe," he snorts. "But don't try to guilt me into joining your little group again."

"I wasn't aware you left," Haymitch says. The look he's giving Cato is downright scary.

"Yeah, well, wise up, old man. You done with the interrogation?"

I couldn't cut in to this conversation even if I wanted to, but I don't. I can barely piece together thoughts, let alone words. This seems to be real from him, all the anger and disgust, but for the life of me, I can't understand why.

Apparently Haymitch has a pretty good handle on things, though. He has no shortage of comebacks. "As a matter of fact, I'm not. So if you're gonna get rowdy, let me know and I'll go get those Mellark boys to hold you down. You remember them, don't you?"

That question is loaded - we can all sense it. "Yeah," Cato says, slightly less hostile.

"Then sit down." He sits, in a chair, far from me, and that hurts for some reason. "What happened to you?" Haymitch asks, his tone slightly more gentle.

"Nothing," Cato says.

"Yeah? What've you been doing for the past four months?"

His face twitches. "Training. Some favors for Snow."