Hey! This is a fiction I already wrote in French. I wanted to share it with you guys who speak English too. I hope you will like it!

Thanks to my two beta GracefullyFallingDown who is SUPER FRICKEN AWESOME (okay, this is me, GracefullyFallingDown writing this...don't judge). For this chapter . The second amazing beta is : Future Fantasy Writer

Chapter 1

Katniss's POV

Effie Trinket plunges her hand into the huge glass bowl where my name, Katniss Everdeen, is written on twenty-two slips of paper. I don't worry too much for Prim, even if I'm still tense. The representative of the Capitol withdraws her hand, a slip of paper clutched in her small, sweaty palm. I hold my breath as I fix my eyes on Gale's face. His stoic expression reassures me.

"Sarasah Williams".

It's not me, or Prim. All the tension in my body leaves. I look at Prim with slack-jawed relief, and as she continues to grasp my hand, Gale and I share an almost happy look.

Almost.

I do not know Sarasah Williams. The poor girl appears not much older than Prim as she cries on the stage.

"Now for the boys!" Effie declares, smiling brilliantly with too-white teeth.

I pray that Gale's name won't be chosen. Tension invades my body again, lacing my veins with icy fear. Not Gale. Please, God, not Gale.

"Peeta Mellark."

Not him, either, I immediately think. I know his name. I turn my head to see his shocked face as he tries to contain his emotions. I'm sure my face is a mixture of sadness, revolt, and anger. This is a nightmare. That boy, Peeta Mellark, saved my life four years ago. He is a symbol, my symbol, of hope. This can't be happening. I never even got to thank him. I always pushed the deadline by finding an excuse. Now...well, now it's too late.

"Katniss, you're hurting me," I hear Prim's high, quavering voice. I was crushing her small hand. I let go of her, but my eyes can't leave Peeta.

"You look sick, Katniss. Did you know him?" She's already referring to him in the past tense. That's how bad things are when you're from District 12 and you go to the Hunger Games.

I can't answer her. It is too difficult to say even one word. Nobody knows what Peeta did for me. What it meant to my family. I never told a soul.

Suddenly, I'm aware that there's commotion in the crowd. I see Effie Trinket, who seems agitated, speaking to the Mayor and Haymitch, the only victor from District 12, ever. After few minutes, Effie returns to the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, on the paper I just drew, there are two names. This therefore invalidates the paper because of its non-regulation format." She turned to Peeta. He looks puzzled.

"I am so very sorry, but given the conditions, I'll have to select another paper. I hope you are not too disappointed."

Peeta seems confused when the Peacekeepers ask him to come down from the stage and go back to his place in the middle of the other young men.

I am in shock. Peeta Mellark is saved. I begin to regain the capacity to breathe.

"I'll draw another name now! Be ready!"

Gale comes back into my thoughts immediately. I turn my head toward him, my thoughts plagued with how unfair it was to taunt him with a chance at freedom, only to throw it back in his face five minutes later. He thought he was saved from the Hunger Games and now... now we don't know. I hold my breath again. I'm trying to comfort him with my eyes, but I'm just as scared as he is.

Effie has a new slip of paper in her hand. I pray for Gale, even though find it hard to believe that, if there is a God, he would let us live this way. I don't want to experience again what happened when Peeta's name came out.

"Oliver Cowell."

The relief I feel is overpowering. I glance at Gale, but he doesn't look relieved. He watches darkly as the 13-year-old boy who is going to be sent to his death climbs on the stage: a Seam boy. The tribute for the year, once again, came from the mining sector. Miners aren't cut out for the arena.

I understand that it is difficult to rejoice.

Half an hour later, everything is done. Prim and I are with Gale and his family. No one really says it, but everyone is relieved for Gale. It was his last year of eligibility.

I spend the evening at the Hawthornes' house. At one point, Gale asks me to come with him into the garden, and we stroll out into the fresh, cold night.

"This...I just...Seam tributes again? It's like they just want to...just beat us down until we die."

I look at him with big, fearful eyes. The streets are crawling with Peacekeepers, and he spoke too loudly.

"When I think of that merchant son who was reaped, but then was let go..." His voice slices through the crisp night angrily. "It makes me think there was...cheating."

One thing that I most definitely don't want to think about right now is Peeta, and the emotions that had invaded me when he was temporarily reaped. In addition, I don't know what to say. I don't think it's possible for a merchant to cheat at this point. Gale's view is just clouded by anger.

"They probably paid Effie. Who is that boy, anyway? Why is he so important?"

"He's the baker's son, Gale. The one we trade with every Sunday." He stays silent for a moment. "You should be ashamed, Gale Hawthorne! The reaping is unfair for everyone."

I turn on my heel and walk away, returning to the house and our families.

X

"Peeta Mellark."

I wake up in a cold sweat. Effie Trinket's voice still echoes in my head, and I'm quivering between my suffocating sheets. I lie there for a few seconds, just concentrating on breathing, and I remember that in the end, by an incredible stroke of fate, Peeta was still here.

"Safe."

I cannot back down now. I learned that lesson harshly, when I saw him stepping into that stage. I am more determined than ever to go thank him for his kindness and finally be free of my debt.

I have a second chance, and I intend to use it.

Nevertheless, everything's easier said than done. I don't know if it's because I hate to be indebted to people, or because I'm as proud as a peacock, or if it is something else entirely, but the idea of talking to him always paralyzes me.

I'm somewhat ashamed of my fear, because he's probably the least scary person on the face of the earth. He's nice, he's talkative, and I've never seen him say a cruel word to anyone. And yet, I, Katniss Everdeen, who crosses the electric fence weekly to go hunting, who routinely shoots and kills game four times bigger than myself, who single-handed my supported my family for years after my father died, am afraid to say thank you.

I don't think I can do it. When I see him, we don't talk. In fact, we barely acknowledge each other. I'm the invisible girl. He probably doesn't even remember what he did for me all those years ago. On the other hand, sometimes I catch him stare at me when he thinks I'm not looking. I'm just afraid he's...angry with me, I guess. After all, he took a beating from his witch of a mother because he dared to help me.

X

Yesterday, I missed the opportunity to thank him again. I don't want that to happen again.

It's lunch break. I glance quickly at the table where Peeta's sitting. As always, he's surrounded by his friends. I still have the afternoon to make an attempt, I suppose. All is not lost, Katniss! You can still do it!

Madge, who shares my lunch break with me, looks at me strangely. It must have been the fifth time that I look quickly toward Peeta's table, and usually I don't pay attention to anyone, so I can understand her concern.

"So you were surprised by what happened yesterday, too?" she asks. "The paper with Peeta Mellark's name and another one on it."

Phew, it's true. Everyone is looking at Peeta this morning because yesterday's reaping.

"Yes."

Madge eats a piece of her sandwich as I casually stalk Peeta's every move with my eyes. He leaves his friends earlier than usual, and doesn't really seem that happy for someone who had been recently saved from having to face the horror of the Hunger Games.

"Katniss...I admire Peeta a lot." Madge's voice cuts into my thoughts.

I was not expecting this.

"Why?"

"Yesterday, he went to see Effie and Haymitch to volunteer instead of Oliver. He said that it was his name that was out first... You know, even if it wasn't a valid ballot or whatever. That it should be him and not Oliver."

I just lost my appetite. On the one hand, I am not surprised. It is the boy who saved my life, after all. On the other, I feel a dull anger mounting in me.

"They refused, because there were no more cameras...it was too late to volunteer. They told him that he could volunteer for next year.

"And?"

"I don't know. They noticed me there and my dad asked me to leave. Why did Peeta do that? You know, I know this isn't true, but Seam people say that he is a coward, and that his family probably paid Effie, and it's his fault if that little Seam boy dies."

I stopped to listen few seconds ago, and now I get up suddenly.

"I have something to do," I say in dull tone.

X

I'm looking for Peeta, my blood boiling with fear and anticipation. I find him in the hallway. He is looking for something in his locker, rooting around in its contents, arms halfway disappearing. I walk briskly toward him, trying to be fast so I don't lose my nerve.

I stop directly in front of him, and he looks up at me in surprise as I slam his locker shut before he has a chance to.

"Tell me you didn't volunteer for next year."

He watches me, questions written across his face. "How did you...?"

"Madge," I reply. "So?"

"No...it's Oliver that I wanted to save. Next year, he will be already dead." His voice is flat, lifeless.

"Oh god, what a relief." I breathe again, and suddenly, I realize that I just started a conversation with Peeta. Well, I yelled at him like a crazy **, at least.

"Thanks, Katniss." He says warmly, and smiles at me. He really has a beautiful smile. Why did he thank me? It should be the other way around.

"I didn't forget the bread...four years ago... " Okay, that didn't come out as smoothly as I planned it. He interrupts me.

"Me either. I...I think about it every day."

I most definitely was NOT expecting that answer. My mind is reeling as I notice other people now entering the hallway, but none come close enough to us to pick up our conversation.

My mind is blank. I cannot think of anything to say.

"I gotta go..." I turn on my heel, wondering if there is a stupider person in existence than me. My guess is HELL no. I've never been good with words, but I seemed to reach a whole new level today.

Later, in my bed, I toss and turn. I can't sleep.

Peeta's voice echoes in my mind, "I think about it every day."

X

In the morning, my head is heavy as I walk to school. As I open my almost-empty locker, I notice a small slip of paper. It looks like a note. I grab it and unfold it, exposing looping, ornate handwriting written in black ink.

We should talk. I'll wait for you near the hole in the fence after school.

-Peeta

I fold up the note and hide it at the bottom of my locker, very glad that he was braver than I was and took the initiative.

I'll finally be able to say thank you.

Thank you for reading. If you liked it. Please let a review ^^