"Well, to put it lightly, she hates you." Haymitch laughs at himself and takes a swig from the half empty bottle. ""In, in." He gestures for the older tribute to follow him, walking over to the couch and falling effortlessly down into it’s cushions. Already, he knew how their conversation would go. Beetee would ask to convince Everdeen to team up, he’d have to agree, and eventually the conversation would spiral into that dark issue; the one he’d been avoiding so carefully for months. The infamous District 13.

He might as well stall while he could. “So… this Nova girl..?”

The first half of the next day was a whirl for Katniss. Training scores were up. As predicted by the Capitol’s magazines and reporters, the girl on fire had gotten a ten, though she hadn’t done anything extraordinary for the Gamekeepers this time; just the regular bow and arrow routine. The man Beetee, who was partnered with the obnoxious girl from District 3, had gotten a five. Surprisingly, Haymitch received the same number as Beetee. "What is he’s skill, anyway?" She thought to herself. Nova, the girl Katniss was beginning to almost despise, was awarded with a seven. "Damnit. Now he’s definitely going to go through with this."

Before confronting Nova on teaming up, she decided to talk to Haymitch. She found him on the couch of the District 12 tribute’s quarters, inspecting a 1/4 filled glass of red liquid. “Haymitch?” Her voice was small and timid, as if she were picking her way through a minefield.

A grunt came from the man as turned back towards the younger girl. “Oh, it’s you. Sit.” He pointed to the opposite side of the couch, motioning for her.

Quiet and a bit on edge, she though over and over to herself what she was going to say next. He began talking, but she couldn’t hear. Interrupting, she blurted, “We are going to be a team in the arena,right, you and I?”

There was a silence. Katniss felt as though it dragged on for ages. Raising an eyebrow, he almost said questioningly, “Well, I thought it was fairly obvious,” Haymitch took in the last of the contents of his glass. “But, it’s your call. You could go off on your own.” She bit her lip. Shaking her head side-ways, she quickly left without a word.

Now for the obnoxious one.