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His expression brightens at the treat。 ¨Thank you； Prim。 Weˇll have a real feast。〃 Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket； the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the leaping。 ¨I almost forgot！ Happy Hunger Games！〃 He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us。 ¨And may the odds 〃 He tosses a berry in a high arc toward me。
I catch it in my mouth and break the delicate skin with my teeth。 The sweet tartness explodes across my tongue。 ¨ be ever in your favor！〃 I finish with equal verve。 We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared out of your wits。 Besides； the Capitol accent is so affected； almost anything sounds funny in it。
I watch as Gale pulls out his knife and slices the bread。 He could be my brother。 Straight black hair； olive skin； we even have the same gray eyes。 But weˇre not related； at least not closely。 Most of the families who work the mines resemble one another this way。
Thatˇs why my mother and Prim； with their light hair and blue eyes； always look out of place。 They are。 My motherˇs parents were part of the small merchant class that caters to officials； Peacekeepers； and the occasional Seam customer。 They ran an apothecary shop in the nicer part of District 12。 Since almost no one can afford doctors； apothecaries are our healers。 My father got to know my mother because on his hunts he would sometimes collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop to be brewed into remedies。 She must have really loved him to leave her home for the Seam。 I try to remember that when all I can see is the woman who sat by； blank and unreachable； while her children turned to skin and bones。 I try to forgive her for my fatherˇs sake。 But to be honest； Iˇm not the forgiving type。
Gale spreads the bread slices with the soft goat cheese； carefully placing a basil leaf on each while I strip the bushes of their berries。 We settle back in a nook in the rocks。 From this place； we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley； which is teeming with summer life； greens to gather； roots to dig； fish iridescent in the sunlight。 The day is glorious； with a blue sky and soft breeze。 The foodˇs wonderful； with the cheese seeping into the warm bread and the berries bursting in our mouths。 Everything would be perfect if this really was a holiday； if all the day off meant was roaming the mountains with Gale； hunting for tonightˇs supper。 But instead we have to be standing in the square at two oˇclock waiting for the names to be called out。
¨We could do it； you know；〃 Gale says quietly。
¨What？〃 I ask。
¨Leave the district。 Run off。 Live in the woods。 You and I； we could make it；〃 says Gale。
I donˇt know how to respond。 The idea is so preposterous。
¨If we didnˇt have so many kids；〃 he adds quickly。
Theyˇre not our kids； of course。 But they might as well be。 Galeˇs two little brothers and a sister。 Prim。 And you may as well throw in our mothers； too； because how would they live without us？ Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more？ With both of us hunting daily； there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelaces or wool； still nights when we go to bed with our stomachs growling。
¨I never want to have kids；〃 I say。
¨I might。 If I didnˇt live here；〃 says Gale。
¨But you do；〃 I say； irritated。
¨Forget it；〃 he snaps back。
The conversation feels all wrong。 Leave？ How could I leave Prim； who is the only person in the world Iˇm certain I love？ And Gale is devoted to his family。 We canˇt leave； so why bother talking about it？ And even if we did 。 。 。 even if we did 。 。 。 where did this stuff about having kids e from？ Thereˇs never been anything romantic between Gale and me。 When we met； I was a skinny twelve…year…old； and although he was only two years older； he already looked like a man。 It took a long time for us to even bee friends； to stop haggling over every trade and begin helping each other out。
Besides； if he wants kids； Gale wonˇt have any trouble finding a wife。 Heˇs good…looking； heˇs strong enough to handle the work in the mines； and he can hunt。 You can tell by the way the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him。 It makes me jealous but not for the reason people would think。 Good hunting partners are hard to find。
¨What do you want to do？〃 I ask。 We can hunt； fish； or gather。
¨Letˇs fish at the lake。 We can leave our poles and gather in the woods。 Get something nice for tonight；〃 he says。
Tonight。 After the reaping； everyone is supposed to celebrate。 And a lot of people do； out of relief that their children have been spared for another year。 But at least two families will pull their shutters； lock their doors； and try to figure out how they will survive the painful weeks to e。
We make out well。 The predators ignore us on a day when easier； tastier prey abounds。 By late morning； we have a dozen fish； a bag of greens and； best of all； a gallon of strawberries。 I found the patch a few years ago； but Gale had the idea to string mesh s around it to keep out the animals。
On the way home； we swing by the Hob； the black market that operates in an abandoned warehouse that once held coal。 When they came up with a more efficient system that transported the coal directly from the mines to the trains； the Hob gradually took over the space。 Most businesses are closed by this time on reaping day； but the black marketˇs still fairly busy。 We easily trade six of the fish for good bread； the other two for salt。 Greasy Sae； the bony old woman who sells bowls of hot soup from a large kettle； takes half the greens off our hands in exchange for a couple of chunks of paraffin。 We might do a tad better elsewhere； but we make an effort to keep on good terms with Greasy Sae。 Sheˇs the only one who can consistently be counted on to buy wild dog。 We donˇt hunt them on purpose； but if youˇre attacked and you take out a dog or two； well； meat is meat。 ¨Once itˇs in the soup； Iˇll call it beef；〃 Greasy Sae says with a wink。 No one in the Seam would turn up their nose at a good leg of wild dog； but the Peacekeepers who e to the Hob can afford to be a little choosier。
When we finish our business at the market； we go to the back door of the mayorˇs house to sell half the strawberries； knowing he has a particular fondness for them and can afford our price。 The mayorˇs daughter； Madge； opens the door。 Sheˇs in my year at school。 Being the mayorˇs daughter； youˇd expect her to be a snob； but sheˇs all right。 She just keeps to herself。 Like me。 Since neither of us really has a group of friends； we seem to end up together a lot at school。 Eating lunch； sitting next to each other at assemblies； partnering for sports activities。 We rarely talk； which suits us both just fine。
Today her drab school outfit has been replaced by an expensive white dress； and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon。 Reaping clothes。
¨Pretty dress；〃 says Gale。
Madge shoots him a look； trying to see if itˇs a genuine pliment or if heˇs just being ironic。 It is a pretty dress； but she would never be wearing it ordinarily。 She presses her lips together and then smiles。 ¨Well； if I end up going to the Capitol； I want to look nice； donˇt I？〃
Now itˇs Galeˇs turn to be confused。 Does she mean it？ Or is she messing with him？ Iˇm guessing the second。
¨You wonˇt be going to the Capitol；〃 says Gale coolly。 His eyes land on a small； circular pin that adorns her dress。 Real gold。 Beautifully crafted。 It could keep a family in bread for months。 ¨What can you have？ Five entries？ I had six when I was just twelve years old。〃
¨Thatˇs not her fault；〃 I say。
¨No； itˇs no oneˇs fault。 Just the way it is；〃 says Gale。 Madgeˇs face has bee closed off。 She puts the money for the berries in my hand。 ¨Good luck； Katniss。〃 ¨You； too；〃 I say； and the door closes。
We walk toward the Seam in silence。 I donˇt like that Gale took a dig at Madge； but heˇs right； of course。 The reaping system is unfair； with the poor getting the worst of it。 You bee eligible for the reaping the day you turn twelve。 That year； your name is entered once。 At thirteen； twice。 An