Suzanne Collins · 312 pages
Rating: (34.1K votes)
“Allow me to translate, Twitchtip said, not even bothering to move. "She said if you don't stop your incessant babble, that big rat sitting in the boat next to you will rip your head off.”
“You come up and read books?” asked Gregor. “Read them, eat them, whatever mood strikes me,”
“Any rats around?” asked Gregor. “Just the one on my back,” said Ares.”
“Luxa stood up, her face paler than usual. She went to her cousin, sat beside him, and put her arms around him. Pressing her forehead into his shoulder, she said, “She will fly with you always. You know this. She will fly with you always.”
“Everything bad was worse at the holidays, he knew that from the years of his dad’s absence. All around you were people in an extra-happy mood, and it just made your own hurt bigger.”
“It wasn't her fault if Elliot had expressed his feelings wrong. He always did that, as if life were a dance where everybody else knew the moves but Elliot was constantly and fatally out of step.”
“Good riddance. After all, it’s not as if the jerk had done me any favors recently. Well, he’d washed my clothes and bought me two breakfasts (like a Hobbit). There was that. But he’d also dragged me into a Battle of the Sexes that should have been over and done with a good thirty years ago, all because he needed a warm body to fill a slot.”
“Mirabella’s eyes fill with tears, and Billy quickly wipes his mouth. He scoops strawberry tart onto his fork and holds it out.
“Here,” he says. “You must try this.” As she takes the bite, he uses his thumb to discreetly wipe the tear that falls down her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I suppose I haven’t even tried to consider your point of view. It was thoughtless of me.”
“It is all right,” Mirabella says. “Does she know that you love her?”
Billy raises his eyebrows.
“Why would she when I didn’t? It wasn’t like I read in books. A thunderclap. Eyes meeting. Tortured glances. With Arsinoe it was more like . . . having cold water poured down your back and learning to enjoy it.”
“And does she love you?”
“I don’t know. I think she might.” He smiles. “I hope she does.”
“I hope so too.” Another tear slides down her cheek, and Billy darts forward to discreetly hide it.
“It is all right,” she says. “They will think I am only crying because of how terrible this strawberry tart is.”
Billy sets down his fork, insulted. Then they both begin to laugh.”
“Your impulse to protect me conflicts with my need to protect my self-respect. Sorry. Besides. I have this vaguely uneasy feeling you're offering to protect me from you. That's not doing me a kindness -- that's coercion.”
“Damnit, I thought. I really fancy you…”
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