A/n: This little fic will have five parts. ;)

One.

Peeta walks into the classroom where the other five- and six-year-old kids will be today, biting his lip and wringing his hands anxiously in front of him.

When Rye made fun of him over breakfast today for being nervous on his first day of school Peeta stuck out his lower lip as far as he could and said, loudly, that he wasnot nervous. But that was a lie. (Sometimes Peeta lies. Not often – his mother can usually tell when he's lying and he'll get in lots of trouble for it later. So it's usually not worth it. But sometimes – when his mother's not around, if his brothers are being really annoying and he thinks he can get away with it – he'll lie.)

For as long as he can remember Peeta's had to stay home on the first day of school and watch from the kitchen window as the big kids walk down the road to the District's little two-room schoolhouse, laughing and kicking rocks and roughhousing the second they're out of their mothers' sight.

Peeta can't quite believe the day for him to join the big kids is finally here. It doesn't seem real, him being here in his too-large pants and the shirt that used to be Rye's.

Despite what he told Rye earlier his stomach's been in knots all morning.

"Peeta?" Delly's mother eventually says, her voice as sweet and kind as her daughter. She comes up beside him and rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. Peeta wonders if his new teacher can tell how scared he is. "Would you like to join the rest of us for circle time?"

"Yes, Mrs. Cartwright," he manages, though the three little words trip over his tongue a bit on their way out. He nods and tries to smile at her as she shows him to his assigned spot on the carpet.

Later – when its time for Mrs. Cartwright to lead the afternoon meeting after lunch – it takes a very long time for most of the kids to settle down again.

Peeta can't really blame them. For most of them this is the longest they've ever been away from their parents. This new sort of freedom makes him feel a little wild himself – though he'd never do what some of the ruder boys are doing right now. (Spitballs are disgusting.)

Peeta's just about to elbow Delly in the ribs and ask her what she wants to do after school today when suddenly, a little girl Peeta hadn't noticed until this moment climbs up on a stool in the middle of their classroom and starts to sing.

His eyes snap to hers instantly. His arm drops to his side and his mouth forms a great big wide O before he even realizes he's doing it.

She's singing "The Valley Song." That much Peeta knows. He's only heard it a few times, usually when people from the Seam come into the bakery to trade squirrels for bread from his father.

But Peeta's never heard the Valley Song sung quite like this before. It sounds like starlight and birdsong and the rising sun, and he's mesmerized.

The girl is pretty. Not pretty in the boring sort of way a lot of girls in Town are pretty. This girl is interesting pretty. Her skin is darker than his, and her hair is long and flows down her back in two shining braids tied loosely at the ends with little red plaid ribbons that match her dress. Her eyes are closed as she sings, as though she doesn't know or even care if anyone else in the room is listening. (But they are listening. Everyone is. Even the boys who were throwing spitballs a moment ago have stopped, eyes raptly drawn to the girl standing on the stool in the front of the room, unable to look at anything else.)

Peeta doesn't understand why his stomach feels all funny while he watches her. He doesn't understand why he's no longer able to hear or feel or think about anything but this girl, standing in front of him, and singing all the joy he suddenly feels in his heart.

A few weeks ago Peeta overheard Braden, his oldest brother, tell some girl that he loved her.

Peeta laughed pretty hard about it later that night with Rye.

But when the girl who sang today – Katniss; her name is Katniss Everdeen, he knows now; Delly told him after school – stepped down from her stool and looked directly at him with her brilliant, silvery eyes, Peeta thought, suddenly, that maybe he almost understood what Braden must have meant.

Lying in bed that night Peeta whispers it into his pillow, those three little words. Quietly, so his brothers don't wake up. Just to test them out.

The words feel and taste funny in his mouth. But they make his heart speed up a little all the same.