It's the crack of dawn. Gently, so I don't disturb Posy, who has crawled into my bed again, I lift off the covers and slowly get out. I pull on my worn-out, yet sturdy boots and head out the door. I breathe in the morning air. Out of habit, I glance in the direction of the Everdeen's place. You can't see it from here, as the foliage from the trees cover that section, but still I look.
I walk a bit down the sparse road; everyone's sleeping in today, as they should; until I reach the part in the fence that surrounds the forest, encasing us inside. The official reason for the fence is to keep out the wild things, with I guess it does, but knowing the Capitol and its dictator and unfair ways, the latter seems unrealistic.
The fence is supposed to be electrified too, but since our district is the twelfth and poorest, the hum from the fence is rarely ever there. We barely get electricity in our houses as it is, and are lucky if we can get a few hours' worth in the evening. In fact, the only time when our district is sure to have electricity is for the watching of the Games. The Capitol only asserts to our needs in order to make sure we can watch children kill each other.
I crawl under that little nitch in the fence and go to the spot where Katniss and I hide our bows. I grab mine and start looking for something to shoot so I can maybe trade it for a morning meal to eat with Katniss. It is Reaping Day anyhow. I'm glad my siblings are too young once again to be a part of the Reaping this year, and I know Katniss must be worrying as this is Prim's first Reaping. Prim, with only one slip that Katniss has worked so hard to minimize the odds, has nothing to worry about this year. Katniss, on the other hand…
Something scampers by and I shoot. It's a little off, as per usual. Katniss is the archer, I deal with snares.
But it'll do. I head back under the fence and into the district again after putting my bow back. I head straight to the baker. He's there, right up and early and I can always count on him for business and a chat. Since Katniss never wants to trade with the baker, who's actually a pretty good customer, I usually am the one who goes over there and we talk about things. Not about the Capitol, which is dangerous to do in the district, but about other stuff, like the only thing I can't ever discuss with Katniss.
The baker, Mr. Mellark, smiles as I walk in. I nod at him. I rarely smile at people and they have accepted that as who I am.
"Shot something?" he asks, already wiping his white-powdered hands on his apron.
"Just a squirrel," I respond taking it out. "Just hoping for some nice bakery bread to start the morning."
He grins. "With Katniss? Let me see that squirrel."
I hand it over to him and he laughs. "Gale, next time let your girl take the shot."
I roll my eyes. "It's not that bad." He wipes his hands again and goes to the oven and pulls a tray and sets them to cool.
I lean on the counter and wave my fingers through my hair.
"Worried about the Reaping today?" Mr. Mellark asks. "It's your last year, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I respond "but it's not so much me I'm worried about."
Mr. Mellark nods in understanding.
"Katniss." we both say at the same time, which isn't surprising as all those talks we've had are centered around her.
"She has 20 slips this year," I blurt out. "Her chances aren't good."
"And you have more than twice that" he says bluntly.
"I'm not so much worried for me…I mean I am. If I get chosen, which is likely that I do, my family will starve. They rely on me," I stumble out.
The baker's eyebrows furrow. "Tell you what," he begins. "If you or Katniss get chosen, I swear by my sons' lives I will provide for your families, you know, make sure they don't starve. I know you both have younger siblings to care for."
"Mr. Mellark," I start to protest. Anybody else, I would turn my back on since I hate charity, but Mr. Mellark is something different. So I stay put and protest. "You have a family too."
He cuts me off before I can say more. "Though we aren't from the Seam, we don't exactly live well-off, but we can manage pretty well. We can spare some. I'm the only baker in this district anyway!" he says jovially, though by the way his eyebrows furrow I know he's thinking about his catty wife right now.
He senses that, and replies "Don't you worry about her. She thinks she's got the power, but it's all show." He won't take no for an answer.
"Thank you Mr. Mellark," I respond. "I can't express my gratitude."
He nods. "The sun has risen, don't you have somewhere to go?" He ponders.
"Yes, Katniss is waiting for me in the woods."
"So are you ever going to tell her?" he asks as he starts wrapping one the loaves. "Your feelings for her?"
I gaze off to the cakes, which are sort of ridiculously decorated. I guess it's beautiful, but it just reminds me how poor District 12 really is. Especially since I come from the Seam, which is the runt of the runt as far as Panem goes.
The baker murmurs something under his breath that sounds to me like "Boys these days."
He should talk. One of these conversations we had had him bring up the fact that he was head over heels with Katniss's mother when they were young, but then she fell in love with Mr. Everdeen, who died in the same mine explosion as my own father.
"I have been planning on telling her, but…" I finally respond. The baker keeps his eyes on me in silence.
I speak the next words in a rush "She'll just run away from that. You know how she is."
I think, especially over the last year, Katniss has been feeling that we're more than friends, but love scares her away too easily for me to admit my feelings to her. And I don't want to lose our friendship.
Mr. Mellark has finally gotten my telepathic messages that we should get off this subject. It's too painful. "Where's Peeta?" he asks, partly to himself. "He's usually down here at this time."
"Well, I have to go," I say to him. "You know, hunting with Katniss."
He nods and hands me the bread he finished wrapping. "Good luck to both of you," he calls out as I head out the door with the bread. "Good luck, Gale." He says the last with different tone which implies he's not talking about the reaping.
The bakery door swings shut and I unwrap the bread. It's worth far more than the squirrel I shot. I turn back in shock. The baker's already going back to his usual chores but I see a glimpse of blond hair through the window on the door behind the counter. Peeta. I shake off the feeling that he's probably been listening to us the whole time and head back to the forest to celebrate the bread with Katniss. I feel so happy that I'm heading over to see her right now, and I think that this might be the day I tell her I love her.