He's staring at me. Again.

This has got to be the fourth time in three days that I caught those blue eyes trained at me.

Though his face remained relatively emotionless, his eyes were reflecting his thoughts, like he's making a decision of some sort. By the looks of it, he's probably not going to drop his gaze anytime soon.

So I hold his stare.

However, Peeta pulls me out of my focus as he nudges my arm. I forgot I was talking to him. How rude of me.

"Huh?" I ask as I turn to face him. "What did you say?"

"I said, what do you think?" Peeta says, holding up his camouflaged arm. I look at the design more critically. Light and dark patterns here and there, suggesting sunlight falling through the leaves in the woods.

"It looks.. very believable. You're really good at this." I tell him, willing myself to bring my attention back to our task.

"Thanks. I do the cakes at home." He tells me. "Why so jumpy today? Is there something wrong?"

Except for the fact that we're going to be thrown in an arena full of bloodthirsty kids in three days, everything's peachy. "Nothing. It's just.. nerves."

That, and the guy over the spear throwing station that's boring holes in my back.

"Can't blame you. The Careers really are trying to intimidate everybody else." He shrugs, adding some final touches to his work."There. All done."

The trainer complimented Peeta's work, saying he's got talent with painting. Flattered, Peeta tells him how he used to ice their cakes back home. The trainer seems to be genuinely fond of him.

They talked some more, so I let my eyes wander a bit. They land right back to the boy from District Two, who apparently didn't refrain from watching me. As my eyes meet his for the second time today, he does something totally unexpected.

He winked at me.

What the hell? That was all I could think of as we made our way to the dining hall. He was probably just doing it to unnerve me, to get inside my head. But why? Am I so much of a threat? Or am I just that entertaining to intimidate?

I put my tray down, Peeta taking the seat across me. He's actually nice to have around. Funny, polite, and a very good conversationalist. I don't usually speak a lot, but somehow he gets me to talk: about school, Prim's grouchy old cat Buttercup, even Gale.

I was halfway into telling him about this time when I challenged a bear over the rights to a beehive when we heard boisterous laughter coming from the Careers' table. Almost everybody turns to look at them. It seems the bronze-haired boy from District One is telling a very funny story.

"Nothing ever changes, you know." Peeta sighs, taking a bite of his bread.

"What do you mean?" I ask him, puzzled.

"This.. social pyramid we all seem to be in. There's always the popular kids and the underdogs." He says as he places his fork and knife in the four o'clock position in his plate. "Wherever we go, it's just the same."

Now I get what he's saying. This is just like school, back in District Twelve. Seam kids stick amongst themselves, just as the Town kids do. That's why my friendship with Madge Undersee is rather uncommon. But then, she isn't a snob like most of the Town girls are. You'd expect her to be, being the mayor's daughter and all, but she's okay. We end up together a lot at school, even if we rarely talk. It suits us both just fine, though.

I push the rest of my salad around my plate, the pink tomatoes all soggy from my stabbing. "Yeah, but aren't you a part of the 'In Crowd' back at school?"

The expression on his face made me realize how blunt I've been. I almost wince. "I'm in it, but not exactly a part of it. I mean, they're my friends, yes, but I don't get it when they bully kids from the Seam. I think it's stupid." He tells me.

"Why didn't you stop them, then?" To hell with my bluntness. I'm hopeless.

"I don't know. Social survival, I guess. Besides they're not gonna listen to me anyway. Believe me, I tried." He says lightly with a smile.

I let the topic drop. As much as I'd like to know more about the boy with the bread, I know I shouldn't. Not when the possibility of having to kill each other is looming above our heads. I look away from him, scanning the other tributes with feigned interest. Most of them were sitting alone, most notably the little girl from Eleven. Occupying a big Mahogany table all by her lonesome, she looks smaller than ever. She reminds me so much of Prim.

So before I do something stupid like cry, I take my eyes off her, which it turns out is an equally stupid move because now my gaze lands on the Careers. On the boy from District Two, more specifically. He's seated between the girls of One and Two, with District One Blondie practically on his lap. It made me lose my appetite more, if possible.

He probably sensed someone's watching him because suddenly, he looks up, those stormy blue eyes finding their way to meet mine. Blondie leans to whisper in his ear, clearly intent on making him turn his attention back to her. He doesn't drop his gaze, though. He intensely stared at me while answering Blondie, only breaking away after he finished talking.

I just roll my eyes and made a move to stand up, letting go of a breath I wasn't aware of holding. "Let's go. It's getting too stuffy in here."

Peeta takes one last swig from his Mango juice before standing up, completely oblivious to my staring contest with District Two just moments ago. "All right."

We make our way through the tables, handing our trays to the Avoxes lingering near the blue double doors. Just before I'm completely out of the dining hall, I see District One Blondie throw me a seething glare.

I guess it's true what they say about the Careers. They really never miss a thing.

It's the last day of training. Well, half a day, since the Gamemakers will begin calling us one by one after lunch. District by district, the boy first, then the girl. In short, I'm the last one to go. How exciting.

Since it's our last chance to practice before we face our imminent death, Peeta and I agreed to go for some weapons today. We were throwing spears when a knife suddenly stuck right at my dummy's chest. Three guesses on who probably threw it.

I look to my far left and my suspicion's confirmed. The Careers are snickering at me, the girls from One and Two the loudest.

Something tells me Blondie and Knife Girl had a nice chitchat about my little exchange with their team leader yesterday.

"Oh, sorry Twelve. Didn't realize you were actually aiming for that one." Says the girl from Two rather roguishly. She was a good 30 feet away from me, and that throw would've been pretty impressive if it wasn't downright frightening.

As much as I hate to say it, she's better at this than me, but that doesn't mean she can just stomp on me like that. I do what I can to learn here, but she's making it look like this is all fun and games. And for them, it apparently is.

"Just ignore them, Katniss. Come on. It's lunchtime anyway." While it's nice of Peeta to try and calm me down, I couldn't care less. I'm way too pissed.

Peeta starts to lead me away from the weapons station when my eyes caught a familiar sight: the splendid, delicate curve of a bow. Wait, no. A table full of bows.

"Don't even think about it." Peeta said as he saw me eyeing the table.

Too late, though. I'm already running towards it. Nostalgia comes rushing on to me as I touch the familiar weapon. There are a whole lot of them, in wood, metal and some other materials I can't even name, in all shapes and sizes. I pick up a wooden, average-sized one, almost just as big as the ones I have back home. Perfect.

The archery range was at the far right, and the Careers are way too busy being their arrogant, overconfident selves that they don't notice me till I send the first arrow flying past Knife Girl's head, right through the dummy she was about to savage. It felt so good to shoot, target after target, hitting bullseye every time. I didn't stop till all six dummies around her are shot, straight through the heart.

"Sorry, Two. Didn't realize you were actually aiming. At all."

With that, I dropped the bow and quiver, albeit grudgingly. I walked to where Peeta was, who by the way was gawking at me like I just grew another head that looks like Effie Trinket.

"Haymitch is so going to kill you." He says, complete with wide eyes and an astonished voice.

"Not before she does." I retort, nodding at the brunette girl's general direction. She's glaring at me, holding her knife so tight I'm afraid it's gonna break. I'm sure as soon as the Games officially begin and the gong rings, one of her knives will find its way to my chest.

Everybody's staring now, even the trainers. Too bad the Gamemakers aren't here, they're most probably preparing for the private sessions later. Normally I would've hated the extra attention, but right now in my livid state I just reveled in it.

"Come on, let's go get some lunch. I'm starving." I nudge my district partner as he stays rooted on his place. As I take one last look at the gym behind me, I saw the rest of the Careers eyeing me, the boy from Two particularly. Just then did I realize that they would now see me either as a potential ally or an impending enemy.

Eleven.

A freaking eleven.

I got a damn freaking eleven.

You have got to be kidding me.

Suddenly everybody's celebrating, clapping me in the back and congratulating me. Even Haymitch who almost had a fit about me basically throwing myself at the swords of the Careers.

Word has gotten around about me getting Knife Girl's ass handed to her, but for the Gamemakers, it turns out seeing is believing. At least for those who were sober enough to assess me. Doesn't matter, anyway. I'm sure they were all sobered up after I shot an arrow in their upstaging, attention-hogging roast pig's mouth.

"-and it looks like they want players with some heat." I heard my mentor say before he reaches for a bottle of bourbon.

Effie straightens her magenta skirt as she finally stopped squealing. "As much as I'd like to keep this celebration going, we must all rest for the night—that includes you, Haymitch—after all, we have a big, big, big day tomorrow!"

Oh..right. The interviews, followed by a ball at President Snow's mansion.

How can somebody sleep through that?