122 EIGHTH HEARTBREAK

"Oh, there's no need to flatter me, dear. I've heard it all." Still, there's an extra spring to her step as she circles Finnick, muttering things under her breath and jotting down notes on a digipad. "Not quite as muscular as past tributes, but that's normal given your age. We can give you shots and supplements to bulk you up a little."

"Mags told me not to let you give me any shots or pills," Finnick says hastily.

"Two does it every year," Calliope wheedles, her tone almost petulant.

Finnick shrugs. "Sorry. Mags' rules." And he's eternally grateful for them.

"We'll see about that," Calliope grumbles. "Now stand up straight. I need to get some last-minute measurements

"I feel ridiculous." Finnick stares down at the costume Calliope has wrangled him into, twitching against the itchy sensation of makeup and prosthetics coating his skin.