Peeta, I say lightly. You said at the interview youd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?Oh, lets see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair... it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up, Peeta says.Your father? Why? I ask.He said, See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner, Peeta says.What? Youre making that up! I exclaim.No, true story, Peeta says. And I said, A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she couldve had you? And he said, Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen.Thats true. They do. I mean, they did, I say. Im stunned and surprisingly moved, thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta. It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing, my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think its a waste of time. It might be because it reminds me too much of my father.So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent, Peeta says.Oh, please, I say, laughing.No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knewjust like your motherI was a goner, Peeta says. Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you.Without success, I add.Without success. So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck, says Peeta. For a moment, Im almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because were supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love. But Peetas story has a ring of truth to it. That part about my father and the birds. And I did sing the first day of school, although I dont remember the song. And that red plaid dress... there was one, a hand-me-down to Prim that got washed to rags after my fathers death.It would explain another thing, too. Why Peeta took a beating to give me the bread on that awful hollow day. So, if those details are true... could it all be true?You have a... remarkable memory, I say haltingly. I remember everything about you, says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Youre the one who wasnt paying attention.I am now, I say.Well, I dont have much competition here, he says. I want to draw away, to close those shutters again, but I know I cant. Its as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, Say it! Say it!I swallow hard and get the words out. You dont have much competition anywhere. And this time, its me who leans in.