She frowns when he pulls on her braids with his dirty Seam hands, but because she's a good girl, Maysilee never cries or screams. Haymitch Abernathy will not get the satisfaction of such a response out of her, thank you very much. Instead, she focuses. Maysilee strives to have the most beautiful handwriting, finish her arithmetic first, and earn the best marks in everything. And she succeeds. Not because it's easy; no, she works long after her sister finishes and wakes up earlier than Marjorie to squeeze in some more studying before class.

Someday, she's sure, Haymitch will learn that he'll never be good enough for her. Haymitch, who Ms. Laderney always scolds for not finishing his assignments and being late to class. Haymitch, whose dark hair and olive skin are always darkened by the coal dust that no amount of scrubbing can ever quite wash off. But he doesn't. He merely changes tactics.

This morning, he presses flowers into her hand before class. She murmurs her thanks but tosses them into the bin before she sits down. Maysilee has no use for him or his flowers.

But slowly, she begins to warm to his kindness. If not for her sister and Eileen's teasing, she would stow his gifts away in her backpack and arrange them in the delicate pink vase that decorates her bedroom. Her friends' words echo in her mind, though, reminding her that Haymitch is poor and dirty and stupid and in no way good enough for her. He is from the Seam, after all. So she bins these blossoms as well.

Eventually, he stops watching her during class, stops giving her flowers. And in some ways, Maysilee is relieved. Eileen and Marjorie now have something else to talk about, and she no longer feels guilty when she gazes at him with a sneer that should not belong to her. But she will always miss the gentleness in his eyes as he handed her the flowers he'd picked, and when she stands next to him on the Reaping stage, it is that which haunts her most.