.

A Momentary Reprieve

We collapse into a small cave and wait. My heart pounds frantically in my chest. Gradually, it returns to its proper rate. I listen anxiously for the sounds of feet running toward us but there are none. Five minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen. I accept that whoever is left to fight in these Games must have other priorities and have decided to leave us alone for the time being.

I look at Wally, who is crammed in beside me. His face is flushed, but now that he is no longer dehydrated, he seems fine. I think of Oliver sitting in a viewing room somewhere, possibly surrounded by sponsors. I can practically hear him in my head. "Play up the romance, sweetheart."

Wally has caught my eye. "Coast is clear," he concludes.

I lean into him suddenly and put my head on his shoulder. He catches on immediately and his arms slip around me. I get a glimpse of the pleased expression on his face. "I'm just so tired, Wally," I say. It comes out as more of a whine, really.

"I know you are," my District partner murmurs. "But it'll be over soon. We'll be going home."

I imagine the Capitol audiences watching with bated breath. I know what must happen now. I lift my head from his shoulder and lock gazes with him. "Promise?" I ask.

Wally is so much better at this than I am. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. I kiss him back and tell myself that this is what's going to get us back to District 12. I force myself to melt in his embrace. I am satisfied that the promise has been sealed – to the audience, at least.

A thunderous sound makes us spring apart. It is followed by two more identical sounds: cannons. I am willing to bet that the person behind these deaths is the lone remaining Terror twin, Tommy. An involuntary whimper escapes my lips. There were seven of us left to play when Wally and I fled from the Cornucopia. Now only four remain. There is a fifty percent chance that Tommy has decided to pursue us next.

Wally brushes hair from my face and presses his palm against my cheek. This gesture feels so tender and genuine that I wonder suddenly if this is not just a strategy he has worked out with Oliver during training. Maybe for Wally, this is real.

The idea unnerves me. He has no right at all to expect this to be real. He has to know this is an act. I just want to go home. I refuse to be held to things that may have been promised under duress. There is not much room for softness and love in my life. The only exception I make is for Megan.

I picture my younger sister. She will be at our mother's side as the Games continue. Megan will be terrified at the thought of Tommy hunting me down, but also relieved that I am even still breathing at this point. She will be happy that I have a real shot at making it home.

I wonder what Roy is thinking right now. My oldest friend. There is no room for softness and love in his life, either. What does he think about all of this?

Wally removes his hand and smiles sweetly. He thinks my silence equals comfort. 'You are in love with this boy,' I think. 'Act like it.' I put my head on his shoulder again. He hugs me to him. I almost feel safe.

A cannon fires in the distance.

We are next.