danny mckellan /1

If I shut my eyes then I can pretend I'm there, on that long carpet walk, waving my hands at the press and the people. The television blares Panem's anthem, scratchy in some parts where it can't keep up and I am there, resolute and brave with Arlo beside me. 'Cause we swore if we got reaped then we'd go together.

Dad says it's weird that I still have an imaginary friend, not in front of me but sometimes I hear him whispering to mom in the kitchen. They always talk late on Friday nights, when mom gets home from work. They think I can't hear em but Arlo sits beside the kitchen door, mouthing all the words at me.

Mom says it's fine, that I'll grow out of it and Dad always trusts everything she says because she's so smart. I can tell he doesn't like it though. He tells me she's a bad influence and I guess it's because when Arlo grew her hair out I did too. When she wanted to play with mom's makeup, I got a full face. Mom said it was no big deal but Arlo dropped her favourite blush and it cracked all over, I saw it in the trash can in the bathroom.

She got a new one though and once when she had an afternoon off she showed Arlo and me how to put it on right. I didn't tell her then that Arlo wasn't even there. It was just me, she was just showing me and I felt a little bit ashamed. I don't know why.

I guess for lying.

Dad says he loves me and takes me to the barbers with him to sit in the big chair while Mr. Henry shaves my sides. I kick my feet but because I sit so good, I get a little caramel anyway. I shove it down my shirt to warm it up and all of daddy's friends laugh at me. And that's how sunny afternoons are with my dad, growing up. All morning he works in the den and then in the afternoon it's me and him at the park or me and him at the museum, the grocery, the hospital.

We go to see mom and so dad can turn in papers. He's always turning in papers but I don't really know what that means, just that he's tryna be a doctor like mom.

Mom works a lot, sometimes I don't see her days at a time and it's all because of me. I know because Arlo heard mom and dad arguing about money. Dad wants me in his old training academy and mom wants me in hers. I don't really think it matters, as long as I end up somewhere. Both those places cost a lot though and ever since Grandma cut dad off, he says we've really been having to cut back.

I asked him if grandma cut us off because of me showing up to Grandpa's birthday in cousin Meg's dress. I wore it under my coat so dad didn't get mad and tell me to take it off. I wasn't supposed to wear it, mom had just cleaned it for her because last time she was over we got to scrapping.

Dad tried to play it off as a prank and when he asked me why I did it, in front of our whole family and with Meg's dress stretched across my flat chest, I nodded. That's all it was, a prank.

But I felt ashamed again, this time a lot. I really hate lying.

That night, I sat in the hall outside the kitchen in my pajamas, working up the courage to apologize to my parents. I wasn't sure what for exactly, just that I was wrong.

It was weirdly quiet, little soft hums and tiny sighs of exasperation leaking out through the shut door and I knew I was supposed to be in bed. But I opened the door anyway, knowing that if I just saw their faces then I'd know what to say to make things right.

The sounds grew louder as I pushed the door open and there was my father, cutting through a bolt of teal and gold fabric, my mother bent over a pedal sewing machine.

"Danny! You weren't supposed to see this!" Dad had said, pushing the dress pattern out of sight, "But happy birthday, I guess." And I wore that dress every single day for a week until summer break ended and I had to go back to school.

"Grandma cut us off because she's an old hag," said dad, "But don't you worry Danny-boy, we'll be alright."

And most of the time, like ninety percent, we are.

I guess dad is pretty smart too.