suzanna-kollinz-acliq-oyunlari-1-hisse-eng

“Very true,” says Haymitch. And I realize the impossible has
happened. They have actually cheered me up. Haymitch picks
up a pork chop with his fingers, which makes Effie frown, and
dunks it in his wine. He rips off a hunk of meat and starts to
chuckle. “What were their faces like?”
I can feel the edges of my mouth tilting up. “Shocked. Terrified.
Uh, ridiculous, some of them.” An image pops into my
mind. “One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch.”
Haymitch guffaws and we all start laughing except Effie, although
even she is suppressing a smile. “Well, it serves them
right. It’s their job to pay attention to you. And just because
you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you.”
Then her eyes dart around as if she’s said something totally
outrageous. “I’m sorry, but that’s what I think,” she says to no
one in particular.
“I’ll get a very bad score,” I say.
“Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much
attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know, you
could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose.
People use that strategy,” said Portia.
“I hope that’s how people interpret the four I’ll probably
get,” says Peeta. “If that. Really, is anything less impressive
than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a
couple of yards. One almost landed on my foot.”
I grin at him and realize that I’m starving. I cut off a piece of
pork, dunk it in mashed potatoes, and start eating. It’s okay.
My family is safe. And if they are safe, no real harm has been
done.
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