"She isn't," he snaps, rolling over to face the back of her head. His breath feels hot in his throat, his head tight, and he tastes again the vomit from earlier. "And I won't let you talk about her like that."

For a little while, he glares at the back of her head, entertains again the idea of leaving. Of getting up and getting on a plane right now to District Eleven. Of deciding between two people he more than just wants, but possibly needs.

"She's my only friend."