the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第22章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
The team works on me until late afternoon； turning my skin to glowing satin； stenciling patterns on my arms； painting flame designs on my twenty perfect nails。 Then Venia goes to work on my hair； weaving strands of red into a pattern that begins at my left ear； wraps around my head； and then falls in one braid down my right shoulder。 They erase my face with a layer of pale makeup and draw my features back out。 Huge dark eyes； full red lips； lashes that throw off bits of light when I blink。 Finally； they cover my entire body in a powder that makes me shimmer in gold dust。
Then Cinna enters with what I assume is my dress； but I canˇt really see it because itˇs covered。 ¨Close your eyes；〃 he orders。
I can feel the silken inside as they slip it down over my naked body； then the weight。 It must be forty pounds。 I clutch Octaviaˇs hand as I blindly step into my shoes； glad to find they are at least two inches lower than the pair Effie had me practice in。 Thereˇs some adjusting and fidgeting。 Then silence。
¨Can I open my eyes？〃 I ask。
¨Yes；〃 says Cinna。 ¨Open them。〃
The creature standing before me in the full…length mirror has e from another world。 Where skin shimmers and eyes flash and apparently they make their clothes from jewels。 Because my dress； oh； my dress is entirely covered in reflective precious gems； red and yellow and white with bits of blue that accent the tips of the flame design。 The slightest movement gives the impression I am engulfed in tongues of fire。
I am not pretty。 I am not beautiful。 I am as radiant as the sun。
For a while； we all just stare at me。 ¨Oh； Cinna；〃 I finally whisper。 ¨Thank you。〃
¨Twirl for me；〃 he says。 I hold out my arms and spin in a circle。 The prep team screams in admiration。
Cinna dismisses the team and has me move around in the dress and shoes； which are infinitely more manageable than Effieˇs。 The dress hangs in such a way that I donˇt have to lift the skirt when I walk； leaving me with one less thing to worry about。
¨So； all ready for the interview then？〃 asks Cinna。 I can see by his expression that heˇs been talking to Haymitch。 That he knows how dreadful I am。
¨Iˇm awful。 Haymitch called me a dead slug。 No matter what we tried； I couldnˇt do it。 I just canˇt be one of those people he wants me to be；〃 I say。
Cinna thinks about this a moment。 ¨Why donˇt you just be yourself？〃
¨Myself？ Thatˇs no good； either。 Haymitch says Iˇm sullen and hostile；〃 I say。
¨Well； you are 。 。 。 around Haymitch；〃 says Cinna with a grin。 ¨I donˇt find you so。 The prep team adores you。 You even won over the Gamemakers。 And as for the citizens of the Capitol； well； they canˇt stop talking about you。 No one can help but admire your spirit。〃
My spirit。 This is a new thought。 Iˇm not sure exactly what it means； but it suggests Iˇm a fighter。 In a sort of brave way。 Itˇs not as if Iˇm never friendly。 Okay； maybe I donˇt go around loving everybody I meet； maybe my smiles are hard to e by； but I do care for some people。
Cinna takes my icy hands in his warm ones。 ¨Suppose； when you answer the questions； you think youˇre addressing a friend back home。 Who would your best friend be？〃 asks Cinna。
¨Gale；〃 I say instantly。 ¨Only it doesnˇt make sense； Cinna。 I would never be telling Gale those things about me。 He already knows them。〃
¨What about me？ Could you think of me as a friend？〃 asks Cinna。
Of all the people Iˇve met since I left home； Cinna is by far my favorite。 I liked him right off and he hasnˇt disappointed me yet。 ¨I think so； but 〃
¨Iˇll be sitting on the main platform with the other stylists。 Youˇll be able to look right at me。 e； and answer it as honestly as possible；〃 says Cinna。
¨Even if what I think is horrible？〃 I ask。 Because it might be； really。
¨Especially if what you think is horrible；〃 says Cinna。 ¨Youˇll try it？〃
I nod。 Itˇs a plan。 Or at least a straw to grasp at。
Too soon itˇs time to go。 The interviews take place on a stage constructed in front of the Training Center。 Once I leave my room； it will be only minutes until Iˇm in front of the crowd； the cameras； all of Panem。
As Cinna turns the doorknob； I stop his hand。 ¨Cinna 。 。 。〃 Iˇm pletely overe with stage fright。
¨Remember； they already love you；〃 he says gently。 ¨Just be yourself。〃
We meet up with the rest of the District 12 crowd at the elevator。 Portia and her gang have been hard at work。 Peeta looks striking in a black suit with flame accents。 While we look well together； itˇs a relief not to be dressed identically。 Haymitch and Effie are all fancied up for the occasion。 I avoid Haymitch； but accept Effieˇs pliments。 Effie can be tiresome and clueless； but sheˇs not destructive like Haymitch。
When the elevator opens； the other tributes are being lined up to take the stage。 All twenty…four of us sit in a big arc throughout the interviews。 Iˇll be last； or second to last since the girl tribute precedes the boy from each district。 How I wish I could be first and get the whole thing out of the way！ Now Iˇll have to listen to how witty； funny； humble； fierce； and charming everybody else is before I go up。 Plus； the audience will start to get bored； just as the Gamemakers did。 And I canˇt exactly shoot an arrow into the crowd to get their attention。
Right before we parade onto the stage； Haymitch es up behind Peeta and me and growls； ¨Remember； youˇre still a happy pair。 So act like it。〃
What？ I thought we abandoned that when Peeta asked for separate coaching。 But I guess that was a private； not a public thing。 Anyway； thereˇs not much chance for interaction now； as we walk single…file to our seats and take our places。
Just stepping on the stage makes my breathing rapid and shallow。 I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples。 Itˇs a relief to get to my chair； because between the heels and my legs shaking； Iˇm afraid Iˇll trip。 Although evening is falling； the City Circle is brighter than a summerˇs day。 An elevated seating unit has been set up for prestigious guests； with the stylists manding the front row。 The cameras will turn to them when the crowd is reacting to their handiwork。 A large balcony off a building to the right has been reserved for the Gamemakers。 Television crews have claimed most of the other balconies。 But the City Circle and the avenues that feed into it are pletely packed with people。 Standing room only。 At homes and munity halls around the country； every television set is turned on。 Every citizen of Panem is tuned in。 There will be no blackouts tonight。
Caesar Flickerman； the man who has hosted the interviews for more than forty years； bounces onto the stage。 Itˇs a little scary because his appearance has been virtually unchanged during all that time。 Same face under a coating of pure white makeup。 Same hairstyle that he dyes a different color for each Hunger Games。 Same ceremonial suit； midnight blue dotted with a thousand tiny electric bulbs that twinkle like stars。 They do surgery in the Capitol； to make people appear younger and thinner。 In District 12； looking old is something of an achievement since so many people die early。 You see an elderly person you want to congratulate them on their longevity； ask the secret of survival。 A plump person is envied because they arenˇt scraping by like the majority of us。 But here it is different。 Wrinkles arenˇt desirable。 A round belly isnˇt a sign of success。
This year； Caesarˇs hair is powder blue and his eyelids and lips are coated in the same hue。 He looks freakish but less frightening than he did last year when his color was crimson and he seemed to be bleeding。 Caesar tells a few jokes to warm up the audience but then gets down to business。
The girl tribute from District 1； looking provocative in a see…through gold gown； steps up the center of the stage to join Caesar for her interview。 You can tell her mentor didnˇt have any trouble ing up with an angle for her。 With that flowing blonde hair； emerald green eyes； her body tall and lush 。 。 。 sheˇs sexy all the way。
Each interview only lasts three minutes。 Then a buzzer goes off and the next tribute is up。 Iˇll say this for Caesar； he really does his best to make the tributes shine。 Heˇs frien
