Another prompt I wrote for Promptsinpanem.
Happy Everlark week, everyone, and I hope you enjoy this piece of fluff. :)
~Terri
The note rested on her desk when Katniss walks in for her first period class with her name neatly scrawled in cursive. Looking around she noticed she was the only one in the room.
Who had put it here?
She was tempted to throw it away, it was obviously a prank one of the Merchants were playing, but the way the K curved into the A impressed her, making her curious as to what the note said. Curiosity got the best out of Katniss and she flipped it open to read.
You're brave, it read.
She looked around again, kids now filing in the room before the bell rang, and she wondered who had written this. Was it someone in this class? She had the sensation that eyes were peering at her, watching her every move, and she shoved the piece of scrap paper in her pocket before the teacher came in to lecture them on the economics of coal production in the nation.
The curiosity on who wrote the note slipped out of Katniss' head as she focused on her studies for the hour, but the feeling of eyes watching her never faltered. Every so often Katniss would chance a peek away from her notes and scan the classroom for any eyes on her. No one had their heads up as they all furiously took notes for the upcoming test. She was psyching herself out, being paranoid over nothing. No one cared enough about a girl from the Seams to keep their eye on her. She was being ridiculous.
Second period passed without any notes and Katniss figured it was a silly joke that someone had tried to play.
When she walked in to her third period class, though, another note rested on top of her desk like the first. Katniss faltered in her step when she saw it, knowing it had to have been from the same person because it looked like it was torn from the same sheet of paper and the same neat cursive that wrote out her name graced the sheet as well. There were people in the room compared to last time, and Katniss tried to remember who she shared first period with. There were only two others who had first period with her, Delly Cartwright and Leevy Anderson, and both didn't seem like the types to leave mysterious notes on people's desks.
Breathing in, Katniss pulled open the note and couldn't help but smile. The way you take care of your sister is admirable, the note read. She didn't know who this mysterious note writer was, but she couldn't help but be intrigued.
All throughout the day Katniss continued receiving these mysterious notes listing random facts about her: You hunt, You love nature, You have the prettiest voice, You're strong, and You are protective over those you love.
The notes kept coming and soon Katniss was able to fit all the pieces of paper together like a puzzle of random facts on her. What did all these notes mean? Was someone really trying to make her feel good and then decide to pull the rug from under her? After the fifth note she couldn't be sure who it was because no one had class with her five periods in a row. The anonymous writer was clearly doing their job well at keeping her oblivious to their identity.
After the last bell for the day, Katniss trudged to her locker, still wondering who had written her the notes. How did they know so much about her? For a second she thought it might be Gale, but she'd seen his handwriting when they made trades in the Hob. His handwriting was bigger, not as neat, than the anonymous note writer's. It had to be someone she didn't know, but who? She knew everyone in this school and none of them seemed to show any interest in sending her notes.
There was a full size piece of paper sticking out of the crack of her locker, and she cocked her head to the side, wondering what this note could possibly say. What else did this mysterious person know about her? Should she start to feel concerned?
The crowds of students pushing this way and that pushed past her in a rush to get out of the suffocatingly small building, and she knew it was almost time to meet Prim. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the paper out from her locker's hold and opened it up. All it read was Meet me under the dead tree out front at 3:30. She squinted at the end of the hall at the clock and saw she only had ten more minutes before having to meet this mysterious note writer. Her stomach did a tiny somersault as Katniss shoved her two beat up textbooks into her bag before rushing off to pick up Prim and meet the person.
"Who are we waiting for?" Prim asked, twirling her blonde braid around with her finger.
Katniss muttered embarrassingly, "I don't know." She couldn't help the small blush. The person should be here any moment. They would come, Katniss would see who the person was, tell them thank you for the sweet notes but they needed to stop. Yes, that's how she would handle the situation.
A few stragglers from town played on the old rusty playground as the two Everdeen sisters waited for this anonymous writer. Katniss kept a close eye on any of the kids in her grade that got close to them, but they would always turn away at the last minute to go talk with someone else. Where was this person? She looked at the sun and figured her and Prim had been waiting for at least fifteen minutes.
Perhaps it was just all a prank to make her look like a fool.
Anger bubbled in her chest as she clenched the strap of her bag to keep her steady. Of course it was a prank. Someone had thought it would be funny to make fun of the small girl from the Seam who hardly ever spoke in class. She should have known.
Just as Katniss was about to suggest they go, someone from behind called out her name. She turned around, ready to tell the person off, when she realized it was Peeta Mellark. She couldn't yell at Peeta Mellark, not when she owed him so much for him saving her family.
"Peeta," is all she says, trying to hide her surprise at finding him here. He normally played soccer with the other merchant boys after school.
His smile was shy, and it looked like he was sweating bullets. She wondered why he looked so nervous. "Hey Katniss," Peeta squeaked. He winced and stuck his hands awkwardly in his pockets as he clambered over to them. "How are you?"
Was Peeta the person writing her all the notes? Was that why he was so nervous? Katniss stuck her hand in her pocket where all the notes were hidden and gave him a quizzical look. She hardly knew the boy with the bread, but maybe he knew a lot about her? They had gone to school together since they were five.
"I'm fine." Prim looked between the two with confusion, and Katniss put her hand on Prim's shoulder for silent support. "I was just waiting for someone," she suggests. If Peeta had written the notes surely he would confess to it now. She had always thought he was nice and would never do a prank on anyone, but she never knew with people. Maybe he would pull a prank.
Peeta nodded, a slight off on its bounce. "I just... Katniss, I need to tell you..." He took in a deep breath, looking as though he was going to confess something big to her, like being the writer of those notes? "Someone told me to make this for you," he ended lamely, holding out a sugar cookie with the words I like you frosted in green icing.
"Oh!" Prim gasped, hopping forward to take the cookie. Katniss grabbed her sister's shoulder and pulled her back. Was this a charity offer?
"Who told you to make it?" Katniss asked suspiciously.
"A customer came in and my dad made the order," Peeta informed her, kicking the dirt with his scuffed up sneaker. Her eyes slitted in suspicion, seeing if he was telling the truth or not, but the way he said it sounded like it was the truth. Someone had gone into the bakery to order a cookie for her. She didn't know what to make of the sugar cookie. "Do you want the cookie or not?" Peeta asks, holding it closer for her to take. Whatever nerves he had seemed to have vanished and he looked annoyed now.
"Please, Katniss?" Prim begged, pulling on her arm. "Please take the cookie. Someone had it made specially for you!"
Katniss bit her lip, mulling over her options before nodding her head. "Fine," she allowed, taking the cookie and handing it to Prim. "But if this customer comes back, tell him I want to see him. Money shouldn't be wasted on stupid things like pastries." For a second Peeta's face seemed crestfallen before he curtly nodded and ran off toward home.
Who had told Peeta Mellark to give her that cookie, Katniss wondered as she watched the baker's son's silhouette disappear down the road. Were there two people she owed now?
"Want a bite?" Prim asked, her mouth already full of the cookie.
She couldn't help but smile at how happy and childish Prim was with the cookie crumbs dressing her face. She shook her head, telling Prim the cookie was now hers, but her sister insisted on at least one bite. "Okay," Katniss smiled, taking the cookie and biting into the I. It was sweet and sugary, a rare treat for them both, and she couldn't help but be thankful for at least a second for this secret note writer. They had made Prim smile after all.
"I wonder who had Peeta Mellark make you that cookie," Prim wondered after they finish the treat off. "I want to thank them."
The notes now felt heavy in her pocket as they made their way home, and Katniss wondered the same thing. Maybe the mysterious person would make a reappearance at the bakery for her to thank for making her sister so happy.