The social workers walked me and my sister to the doors of the District 12 community home. It was too late. We had been found out, rumbled. They now knew we had an unfit mother. After all these years since my father's death, it finally became apparent that out mother could no longer take care of us. It's a wonder they didn't bother to enquire how we'd been putting food on the table for the past five years. Luckily Gale and I had covered our hunting tracks, as we'd done for so long. My heart beat in double time, my sister's warm hand slipping into mine. I held it tightly, and for a second I thought it was more for my benefit than hers. I didn't want it to come to this. We knew no-one here, and how would I be able to hunt with the community home staff breathing down our necks? I would have to sneak out at inconspicuous hours, I thought. Hunting with Gale was my only route to sanity.
Prim looked up at me, her eyes widening. She must have noticed the strained expression on my face. But I did not let myself produce tears in my eyes. The social workers did not deserve the privilege of seeing my emotions. I knew she missed Buttercup. But pets weren't allowed in the community home, so she had to wait until home visits to see him. Our mother had to stay home without us, and I had Gale promise to bring her food. He of course agreed. Hopefully I would see him soon.
The two female staff led us upstairs curtly to our rooms. It was a fairly large building, but the walls were a little dank and there was the faint smell of cooking food mixed with something less pleasant wafting from one of the bathrooms. I scrunched up my nose.
Prim and I had to share a single bed, in a room with a few other kids. I decided I was fine with that. How would I comfort her during her nightmares if we'd been separated? I would have demanded for us to stay together anyway. Our room was small and square, the wallpaper a faded white peeling from the walls. Once we left our possessions in the room, I took my sister's hand once again and we headed downstairs. We were told by the home staff that we should introduce ourselves to the rest of the home. Fat chance of that. I would only make the slightest effort to communicate with the other neglected District 12 kids here. Playing chit-chat with total strangers, was in my eyes, a waste of time. I wasn't very good at making friends.
Prim and I slowly walked towards the community home living room, both of us reluctant to go in. I felt an even stronger instinct to protect my sister, as if we were about to enter a room with a pack of ravening wolves. Looking at us, you wouldn't think we were about to socialise with fellow human beings. We walked into the room. I found myself feeling nervous. I was a loner at school, barely noticed most of the time. I guess the only real friend in my year group was Madge Undersee, the Mayor's daughter. But even then, our friendship compared to what I had with Gale was like comparing a small tree to the entire forest.
Breaktimes and lunchtimes were generally lonesome if Madge wasn't around – my year had them at different times to Gale's year. How I wished he was sixteen, not two years older. In a way, though, I liked keeping myself to myself. Believe me, any potential friends wouldn't exactly relate to, and may even be disturbed by the fact that my predominant thoughts revolved around the next hunting session. All I really cared about was where my family's next meal was going to come from. So yes, my company wasn't exactly yearned for at school. No eyes watched me trying to catch my gaze. Except…
And then I saw him. Sitting there in the back of the living room, half-hidden amidst a large group of kids. He always was popular. His blue eyes locked on me instantly. Peeta Mellark. Why did I even remember his name? I didn't know how to react, so I just looked back blankly, stunned into silence. My face felt frozen, in shyness or fear or embarrassment, I didn't know. Time seemed to stand still.
Peeta's gaze held mine, his lips parting. Finally he blinked twice and glanced away. I dropped my gaze instantly. And then the memory hit me: Me, outside after school about to go home. Peeta's eyes meeting mine from afar, surrounded by his friends. Me, looking down and seeing the dandelion that reminded me that all was not lost. It was the day after he'd saved me. The day after he'd thrown me the burnt bread while I was starving to death in the rain, desperately trying to trade Prim's baby clothes. He'd got a black eye and a large red welt on his cheek from his mother because of what he did, burning the bread. And I never really understood why he did that. He probably just felt sorry for me. But the fact he'd endured a beating just to give me that bread… I would never forget that.
I remembered how I felt, seeing his swollen face at school. How much I'd wanted to thank him, but didn't know how. I wasn't very good at expressing my emotions, and I still wasn't, after all these years of covering them up. Somehow, getting Peeta alone away from all his friends (which was hard enough) and telling him, "Hey, sorry you got beaten for throwing me that bread, thank you for saving my family from starvation," didn't quite sum up the complexity of my deep gratitude, mixed with who knows how many other emotions adequately.
I just did not understand this boy. The boy with the bread. Why was he here? I could only conclude that his mother had been found out for beating her children. I could think of no other reason why he would be here. I was surprised she had even got away with it for so long.
I wondered if he still worked at the bakery. I thought to myself that if I had actually plucked up the courage to thank him back then, we might even have become friends. Another lost opportunity for friendship. He probably wouldn't like me anyway; I was so closed up most of the time. Peeta was outgoing and friendly. Those types of people tended to stick to their own kind. I didn't know about him though. He was a mystery to me.
I glanced around at the other children, taking a quick inventory of our company here at the dank community home. Peeta and I were the oldest ones there, that was clear.
"Well, introduce yourselves, girls." said the woman next to us who'd taken us down here. I'd forgotten she was there. My throat closed up, but Prim was braver.
"I'm Primrose Everdeen, and this is my sister Katniss." Her voice was stronger than I expected. She managed a small smile. One of the kids sniggered. I heard them making fun of our names. My eyes fixed on a ten-ish year old boy sitting on the opposite side of the room to Peeta. Anger flared up inside me, and it was all I could do not to stride over to him right now and put him in his place. Instead I visualised it in my head and held Prim's hand tighter. She looked up at me, her beautiful little face looking concerned. She had more strength than she let on.
"Come on, let's sit down." Prim suggested, tugging me a little to the nearest set of chairs. There were two chairs at the back of the room, smack in the middle between the sniggering boy and Peeta. I sat down with her, finally letting go of her hand. Despite being right next to her, I felt isolated and alone.
I got the feeling someone was watching me, but I ignored it. None of these kids deserved my attention. My sister was the only person I cared about. A man gave a short talk to ease Prim and I into the community home routine and the ground rules. I tuned out. I may not be sociable, but I knew how to follow the rules. The school rules at least. The law was another matter entirely. But still, if anything, I was under the radar. I liked it that way.
I re-braided Prim's hair while we waited for dinner, to pass the time. The other kids were spread out in various places in the home, doing whatever kids their age did. I didn't know where Peeta was. Probably having a laugh with his friends. I wondered if his older brothers were here too. It would be odd to throw Peeta in here without them. Mind you, I couldn't really remember what they looked like, so I probably completely bypassed them.
I thought idly that Peeta must be really good with kids if he got on with this lot. Scratch that, he must be pretty good at making friends, period. We couldn't be more different. Still, what with our history, a small part of me wanted to see how he was. Maybe I could finally thank him for his generosity with the bread. Better late than never, I suppose.
But doing Prim's hair soothed me, and I was in no mood to disturb that peace. After I was done, having styled her hair in two braids again, we swapped seats and she did my hair. I thought she would just re-do the one braid down my back. But she unbraided my hair and combed it with her fingers until it was smooth. She made a side parting and tucked the hair behind my ear. It felt strange, having it down. I was so used to having it out of the way that I hadn't noticed how much it had grown. It was at my waist now, wavy after the newly-undone braid.
"Beautiful." Prim commented, smiling at me.
"Thank you, little duck." I smiled back.
"Quack," she joked.
"Quack yourself," I joked back.
Prim said she needed the bathroom, so I was left alone. I couldn't help but feel strange, not knowing what to do with myself. I sniffed, smelling something delicious wafting from the kitchen. So hungry, and thinking dinner was taking forever to arrive, I found my feet walking me towards the wonderful smell. I silently arrived at the living room doorway, looking down the hall to peek into the kitchen. The kitchen door was wide open, and there were three people inside.
One of them I knew. The other two, total strangers. Peeta was baking. I watched surreptitiously as he deftly decorated tray after tray of little fairy cakes, adding beautiful swirls and decorations. He expertly applied each adornment with nimble fingers. I had never seem someone of his build – stocky, strong – so artfully and lovingly do such delicate work.
It should have seemed out of place for him, looking as strong as he did. But he took to it like a duck to water. There was something beautiful about the way his hands moved over the cakes, his face frowning slightly and his mouth open in concentration. I looked at his arms, his muscles from all that heavy lifting at the bakery.
For a second I imagined what it would be like to have them around me, how it would feel. Very safe, probably. Nothing could get to me against those arms. I pushed the thought away almost immediately. I remembered seeing him once throw a hundred pound sack of flour, and noticed how much I had paid attention to the boy with the bread.
I barely noticed the other cooks in the kitchen, so caught up in my thoughts. Still confused about my feelings toward him, I began to turn away.
Suddenly Peeta turned his head and saw me. Our eyes locked for a long moment before I felt acutely embarrassed and my face started warming up. He caught me. I felt disgusted at my lack of discretion, even though I was already half-hidden in the living room doorway.
To my surprise, Peeta tilted his lips into a small smile. I couldn't tell whether he was timid or asking himself what I was staring at. Too embarrassed and startled to react, I turned away and walked back into the living room, heart thumping in humiliation.
"Hey, Katniss, wait!" I heard him call, but I ignored him.
Reviews please! Even if it's only a short one, I really want feedback. I hope you enjoyed. Next chapters will be up soon. I've already written 3 more, so I'll wait a little and then upload chapter 2. Thanks for reading!