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he past!〃 I say。
¨Then lie! Make something up!〃 says Haymitch。
¨Iˇm not good at lying;〃 I say。
¨Well; you better learn fast。 Youˇve got about as much charm as a dead slug;〃 says Haymitch。
Ouch。 That hurts。 Even Haymitch must know heˇs been too harsh because his voice softens。 ¨Hereˇs an idea。 Try acting humble。〃
¨Humble;〃 I echo。
¨That you canˇt believe a little girl from District Twelve has done this well。 The whole thingˇs been more than you ever could have dreamed of。 Talk about Cinnaˇs clothes。 How nice the people are。 How the city amazes you。 If you wonˇt talk about yourself; at least pliment the audience。 Just keep turning it back around; all right。 Gush。〃
The next hours are agonizing。 At once; itˇs clear I cannot gush。 We try me playing cocky; but I just donˇt have the arrogance。 Apparently; Iˇm too ¨vulnerable〃 for ferocity。 Iˇm not witty。 Funny。 Sexy。 Or mysterious。
By the end of the session; I am no one at all。 Haymitch started drinking somewhere around witty; and a nasty edge has crept into his voice。 ¨I give up; sweetheart。 Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them。〃
I have dinner that night in my room; ordering an outrageous number of delicacies; eating myself sick; and then taking out my anger at Haymitch; at the Hunger Games; at every living being in the Capitol by smashing dishes around my room。 When the girl with the red hair es in to turn down my bed; her eyes widen at the mess。 ¨Just leave it!〃 I yell at her。 ¨Just leave it alone!〃
I hate her; too; with her knowing reproachful eyes that call me a coward; a monster; a puppet of the Capitol; both now and then。 For her; justice must finally be happening。 At least my death will help pa
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