I do not own The Hunger Games or the poem 'The Buried Life'. All credit goes to those amazing writers.
"Katniss?"
"Mhmmm," she answered, not even looking up. She stared into the tiny viewfinder of her camera, the body of it resting solidly in her left hand. Holding her camera gave her the freedom to people watch without garnering disgusted stares. After all, it was her job to take pictures for the school paper, and the beautiful people of Panem High loved to have their picture taken.
"Can you put that thing down for a second, I'm having a real crisis here Katniss!" Joanna demanded with a huff.
"I'm listening," she reassured.
"Katniss please," Annie squeaked. She knew the desperation in Annie's voice had nothing to do with her taking photos and everything to do with Joanna's potential to explode into a rage blackout.
With a sigh, she lowered her camera and put on her best sympathetic smile.
"What's up Jo?"
"What's up is that it's only October and my grades in English are already slipping! You know that college applications are due soon and if I don't pull my grade up then I can kiss my ticket out of this hell hole goodbye." Joanna punctuated her frustration by slamming her locker door shut causing Annie to jump slightly and hug her books tighter to her chest.
"It'll be fine," Annie soothed, hesitantly placing her hand on Joanna's shoulder.
"I'll help you, I promise," Katniss said as they started down the hall towards their classes. "Let me read your next essay, I might be able to give you some pointers."
Their conversation was cut short by a high-pitched whistle as they walked past the cluster of lockers near the end of the hall where the senior members of the basketball team were loitering.
"Joanna Mason, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Finnick Odair called out with a cocky grin.
"Suck my dick Finnick," Joanna sang with a sweet smile as they passed. Annie giggled when he winked at her and Joanna gave her a disapproving stare.
"Was that really necessary?" Katniss laughed.
"They're pigs, honestly." Joanna said, rolling her eyes.
Annie glanced back over her shoulder at the group. "They're not all bad. Peeta is nice."
"Peeta Mellark is just like the rest of them," Joanna snorted. "Egotistical with nothing to back it up, and his victims all have a type."
"What type?" Annie asked so innocently that Katniss wanted to pat her head and straighten the black bow in her hair that was slightly askew.
Annie's naivety wasn't her fault. She had grown up in the family that everyone dreamed of. Her father was a doctor and her mother a dentist. They were perfectly sensible people with equally sensible jobs that meant Annie and her two brothers never wanted for anything. Annie was the baby, adored equally by her older brothers as she was by her parents. Mr. and Mrs. Cresta supported and encouraged Annie in everything she did, including her choice of university or college next fall.
Both Katniss and Joanna could only imagine a family like this. After years of screaming matches, Jo's parents had divorced before she started high school. The assumption had been that the divorce would provide some relief and make things easier. But now it was as if her parents were in some sort of competition to see who could find a new life first. They were so wrapped up in dating new people, getting hair plugs and participating in juice cleanses, that they seemed to forget they had a daughter. So Joanna took care of herself.
Katniss had a single mother family, but with the number of hours her mother worked as a nurse, she might as well have had no parents. Her father had died when Katniss was eleven and since then her mother had done everything she could not to be at home. It was as if her father's memory followed her mother around like a shadow she just couldn't shake, and when she could no longer outrun it, it would devour her. Katniss took on raising her younger sister Prim, doing everything from braiding hair to forging her mother's signature on report cards and permission forms for school trips.
Being friends with both Katniss and Joanna had afforded Annie a glimpse into that life, while still maintaining her innocence. So needless to say, Katniss wasn't surprised that Annie hadn't clued into Peeta Mellark's 'type'.
"Blondes."
"No way, he's dated girls who aren't blondes," Annie protested.
Joanna came to a halt outside of their classroom. "Name one."
"Jessica Sellar! Oh no wait, she is blonde. Well there was Pa- no, hold on, never mind. Oh wait, I know," Annie's eyes went wide with enthusiasm. "Jocelyn Lloyd! She's a brunette!"
"Former blonde," Katniss reminded her.
"At least she was two years ago when she dated Mellark," Joanna said with a satisfied smile, ducking into her Science class with Annie hot on her heels, listing off more names.
Katniss pulled up the strap of her leather messenger bag farther on her shoulder and continued on her way to her English class. The bag had belonged to her father so it was well worn, but that was part of what she loved about it. She rested it on her desk as she slid into her seat at the back of Mr. Abernathy's English class. She could hear Finnick and his crew still making noise out in the hall as Mr. Abernathy got up to close the door and begin class.
"Now I'm assuming you all took the time to read the poem that I assigned last night… Know that your silence is instilling a lot of confidence in me," he said sarcastically. Just as he was about to shut the door, Peeta Mellark attempted to slide in.
"You're late."
"Technically, I still have thirty seconds before I'm declared 'officially late' according to the school handbook-"
Mr. Abernathy cut him off, "Oh you're able to quote the school handbook are you? Well how about quoting something relevant to my class, like the poem I assigned last night."
"If you want," Peeta said with a shrug. "Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine-"
"Alright, enough," Mr. Abernathy sneered. "Sit down and stop being a smart ass."
"As you wish." Peeta took a bow and then shuffled to his seat at the back of the class.
"So, the poem you were all assigned last night was 'The Buried Life' by Matthew Arnold. Now I know that Mr. Mellark has read it, but I'm hoping that the rest of you managed to skim it last night as well. Any thoughts?"
The class was uncomfortably silent as they all trained their eyes to look anywhere but the front.
Mr. Abernathy gave a deep sigh and ran his hand through his long hair. "That's what I thought. I'm sure you could all tell me what happened on Jersey Shore last night though, or whatever the hell it is you kids are watching these days. No matter, you can all tell me what it meant to you in an assignment."
The class let out a collective groan.
"Oh now I have something to say!" Mr. Abernathy laughed and passed out the sheets containing the assignment outline.
"What do you want to do before you die," Delly Cartwright read aloud as she scanned the page.
"That is the question you are going to answer here," Mr. Abernathy said, leaning on his desk at the front of the class. "In any medium you choose, it doesn't need to be an essay. But using Arnold's poem and the question I've given you, I want you to create something of meaning for me that shows that you truly understand Arnold's words."
Katniss felt mildly excited about the project, especially given the choice of medium. So rarely did teachers let them do anything that wasn't pencil and paper.
"There is a catch though," Mr. Abernathy continued. "You will work with a partner of my choosing. I want you to learn how to communicate with one another and find out about one of your classmates, who they are at their very core."
Once again, the class let out a groan.
Mr. Abernathy raised his voice and continued to talk over them. "If you flip your sheets over, you'll see the name of your partner on the back."
Katniss felt her stomach twist. She barely let Joanna and Annie know who she was at her 'core'. As she turned over her paper, her worst fears were confirmed. Scrawled on the back of the sheet in Mr. Abernathy's scratchy handwriting was Peeta Mellark's name.