Hi everyone! So this is the first time I'm delving into THG fandom :) I wrote this story for Prompts in Panem, Peeta's Paint Box, Day 2: Orange. It had originally been planned out as a one shot with small vignettes, but it kind of just expanded to way more than that. So this first chapter was what I submitted for PiP, but the rest of the story will be continued here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Please read, review, and enjoy!
I'd also like to give a special thanks to the moderators over at PiP for all of their hard work and dedication!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding The Hunger Games series.
Peeta – 5 – Yellow Orange
He doesn't want to go.
He wants to stay in the bakery, where he can help Daddy while Graham and Rye are at school. That's what he's always done. He's been Daddy's big helper while his older brothers go to school all day.
That's always been Peeta's favorite time of the day.
Peeta's and Daddy's time in the bakery.
And Daddy promised Peeta he would learn how to make cookies this year.
The thing is, Daddy also promised Mama that he would sign Peeta up for kindergarten this year. And Mama always gets her way.
So, Peeta shuffles his feet, barely picking them up off the ground as he trudges into the bakery's kitchen, hoping that maybe if his daddy sees how badly he doesn't want to go, Peeta can stay home and learn how to make cookies instead.
And forget about kindergarten.
But as he looks up to see the excitement on Daddy's face when he sees Peeta in his first day of school clothes, something starts to flutter in his stomach. Maybe it's butterflies. He's always hated that feeling.
"Look how handsome you look Peet! Aren't you excited?" His daddy asks with more than enough enthusiasm for the both of them. Peeta doesn't want to make him sad to know he doesn't want to go to school, so he gives Daddy a big toothy grin and a thumbs up.
If possible, his father's smile widens. "Did you eat breakfast and brush your teeth already?"
Peeta nods his head as his daddy walks over to him and gives him a brown paper bag holding his lunch, just like the ones Peeta always used to help Daddy make for Graham and Rye. "Alrighty kiddo, I'm gonna walk you to the school today, but then your brothers will take you the rest of the year, okay?"
Again, he nods his head, afraid he might start crying if he tries to speak. And Graham and Rye can't see him cry because he doesn't want to go to school. They would never leave him alone. They'd call him a baby.
So as his daddy stretches out his hand, Peeta takes it without hesitation and they head out of the back door of the bakery, grabbing his backpack off the ground on the way. They walk the first five minutes in silence, swinging hands between them, before Peeta notices something strange. "Where's Graham and Rye?"
His father only smiles. "Oh, I sent them ahead of us so we can take our time. There'll be more than enough time for rushing. They just want to go see their friends anyways."
Peeta thinks this over. Aside from his brothers and his daddy, he doesn't really know any other people, or kids. Sure, there's Delly. But she stays in her parents' shop just as much as Peeta stays in the bakery. That's what Peeta thinks would help.
A friend.
A best friend that he can play with in kindergarten so it won't be so scary. Just one. He only needs one. That way, they can always play together.
The school comes into view as they turn the corner, and to Peeta, it seems kind of like the zoo they visited over the summer. People everywhere. Some kids who look his age are crying by their parents. Older kids, like Graham and Rye, are talking loudly to one another outside the school. Peeta feels his legs turn to stone, stopping him in his place.
He doesn't want to be here.
He wants to be at the bakery, where it's quiet and not full of crazy kids.
His father stops right beside him, still holding onto his hand. "Hey buddy, come on. You're going to have so much fun!"
The panic must have shown through in Peeta's eyes, because his daddy's face softens as he kneels down next to him. "Peeta, you're going to be fine."
"But- but I want to stay with you," Peeta whispers, staring at the concrete beneath his feet.
"I know buddy, but trust me, get through the first day and you'll be upset when you have to come home later."
Peeta doesn't think that's even possible, but he gives his father a small smile. It's not very convincing. His father is just about to say something else when something catches his attention. Someone. Peeta turns his head a little to see a girl in a red dress just letting go of her own daddy's hand and walking toward the teacher standing by a group of kids that must have been Peeta's age. Some of the ones he had seen crying are over there now too. But Peeta's attention stays with the girl. Her hair is brown, the same color as her daddy's, and has two braids.
Peeta only turns back toward his daddy when he gives his hand a little shake. "Do you see that little girl? The one in the red dress?"
"Yeah?"
"Her mommy was my best friend," his father reveals like it's a big, big secret. Peeta's eyes widen. "Maybe her daughter can be your best friend too."
Peeta can feel the big smile stretch across his face. Yes, he would like that. He wants the girl with the two braids and the red dress to be his friend to play with in kindergarten. The one friend he needs to be happy here.
"Her name is Katniss, Peeta," his father adds at seeing his son's reaction. "Have fun, okay?"
Peeta nods his head again, but his attention is already focused on the girl again. Katniss. Before Peeta can realize what he's doing, he gives his daddy a big hug and is running over by the teacher and the rest of the kindergartners. And Katniss.
He walks right up to her, standing to her right.
"Hi!" Peeta says cheerily, excited to talk to her.
Katniss whips her head in his direction and gives him a funny look. "Hi."
But Peeta keeps on smiling. Because this is going to be his best friend. Why shouldn't he smile? "I'm Peeta."
"I'm Katniss," she says with a small smile. Peeta beams at her.
"Will you be–"
Peeta is cut off by the sound of a whistle. He looks over at the teacher again and sees her heading into the school. He turns back to see Katniss is going into the school ahead of him, not even looking back.
Peeta frowns a little, but heads toward the school too.
He swears that he'll ask her as soon as he talks to her again.
That is, until it's May 7, and he still hasn't asked her.
Months go by, but Peeta never gathers that courage that he had on that first day in September. The courage to even talk to her.
But Daddy was right. Kindergarten is great. Peeta has lots of friends and he even likes his crazy teacher, Miss Trinket, with her crazy outfits and even crazier hair.
But Peeta still doesn't have a best friend.
Sure, now he's really friends with Delly, and he met Thresh and Finnick. But he still doesn't have a best friend. He never seems to have a chance, or that courage, to ask Katniss. He hasn't spoken a word to her since the first day of school and he thinks she's ignoring him. And that's not nice.
Especially when Miss Trinket has them sit right next to each other in the classroom. Her desk is bumped up to the right side of Peeta's desk.
"What are you doing?"
Peeta's attention tears away from the drawing he's coloring at his desk and turns toward that voice that hasn't spoken to him since the first day of school. "Hi Katniss," he says, trying to hold in his excitement.
She gives him the same small smile. "Hi Peeta." She doesn't say anything else, just stares at him, waiting for an answer to her question.
Peeta sits there confused for a second before going into a full enthusiastic explanation about the drawing he's coloring with his new pack of crayons.
And it's not just any pack of crayons.
It's a forty-eight pack of crayons. With lots and lots and lots of colors.
Nobody else in kindergarten has that many different colors.
Peeta's just so excited to be talking to her, he doesn't realize when her nose scrunches up. He stops halfway through his explanation of the flower he's coloring with his light orange crayon and dark orange crayon and the orange crayon that kind of looks red. He loves the color orange. "What's wrong?"
Her nose just scrunches up more. "Why don't you just color it orange?"
Peeta can feel his own nose scrunch up, but not from confusion. "Why would I do that? Not all flowers are that color orange. And it's boring."
"It's not boring! It's, it's partical! I mean, practical!" She argues while her chin juts out.
"Prac-ti-cal?" Peeta asks while trying out the word. "What does that mean?"
Katniss looks him straight in the eyes when she says, "It means it's dumb to have that many crayons. You only need eight."
Peeta looks away as he feels his face start to get hot. This girl was going to be his best friend! And she's calling his crayons dumb!
He's not going to allow that though. He swept the bakery floors for months. He always made sure the cookie displays were filled in the bakery. Every nickel his daddy gave him Peeta saved.
For that forty-eight pack of crayons.
"It's not dumb!" Peeta all but squeaks, "There's lots of different types of orange! And it's my favorite color!"
Katniss laughs. Peeta feels silly.
"Peeta, don't you think it's weird?" She reaches over his drawing for his pack of crayons, and before Peeta can stop her, she's pulled out one of his many pink crayons. "Sal-mon. What's a sal-mon?"
Peeta snatches the crayon out of Katniss's hand, carefully placing it back in his box. He always makes sure they go pack in the right spot. "It's a pink! Can't you see that!?"
Now Katniss looks at him even more confused than before. So Peeta pulls every crayon out of his very organized box that looks orange and lays it out in front of them. He turns the paper he was coloring on over and takes the crayons, drawing a line across the page with each one of them. He looks up to see Katniss staring at the lines.
He smiles at Katniss triumphantly. "What color are these lines?"
"Orange."
"Wrong!" Peeta shouts, earning a 'quiet please!' from Miss Trinket, who's sitting at her desk in the front of the room. Katniss looks at him, and she looks, really, really mad.
"Peeta, those lines are orange!"
Peeta's smile only widens. "Yeah, but they're different. You can't name them all orange when they look different!"
Katniss's scowl only deepens. "Yeah, but they're just crayon colors. There's nothing else in the world that's the color," she snatches one of the orange crayons and looks at the name, "scar-let! Only the crayon."
Peeta takes that crayon from her too and looks at the markings, but they don't make sense to him. "You can read?" He asks with awe in his voice. He realizes now she had read the pink crayon name too.
Katniss's scowl rises to a smile at Peeta's realization. For the first time, Peeta actually sees her teeth when she smiles. She has a space between her two big teeth. "Yeah, my daddy taught me," she says proudly. "But that doesn't matter! What matters is that I'm right and you're wrong."
Now it's Peeta's turn to scowl. "You're not right!" Again, a 'quiet please Mr. Mellark!' from Miss Trinket. He lowers his voice, "There's lots of things that are these colors!" But Peeta has to wonder, what else did he see anywhere before that was the color scar-let?
Katniss and Peeta glare at each other for a few moments before Katniss's eyes brighten. "I've got an idea. My birthday's tomorrow. I'm going to be five," she announces as she straightens in her seat, seemingly proving she's older and better.
"So?" Peeta says confidently, "I'm already five." And he straightens in his seat as well. Katniss scrunches her nose again and glares at him.
Peeta sees her hand move again, and he shoots his hand out to grab his orange crayons just as Katniss's does the same. He saves them all. All but one. "Give it back!" Peeta yells, attracting the attention of Miss Trinket for a third time. She stands up from her desk and walks toward the back of the classroom where Peeta and Katniss should be coloring their pictures.
"Mr. Mellark, what is the problem here?" She asks in her crazy voice.
"I–," but before Peeta can protest or explain, Katniss chimes in.
"Miss Trinket, what does this say? Yell-ow what? What's the second word?" Katniss asks as she hands that orange crayon over to Miss Trinket. Miss Trinket turns the crayon to look at the name.
"It says yellow orange, sweetie. Is that what this was about?"
"Yes ma'am," Katniss replies innocently. Peeta's eyes widen comically as Miss Trinket smiles and heads back to her desk.
"Yellow orange," Katniss says, turning to face Peeta, "find me something yellow orange for my birthday tomorrow."
"What?" Peeta asks as Katniss brings his attention back to her and away from Miss Trinket's desk.
Katniss only smirks at him. "If you can find me something yellow orange for my birthday, then you're right and I'm wrong." She places that yellow orange crayon right back in his crayon box in the exact spot he had taken it from. "But I'm right," she adds.
Peeta glares at her. "I can do it."
"No you can't."
"Wanna bet?"
"We just did."
They continue to glare at one another until Miss Trinket calls all of the kindergartners to get their lunches from their cubbies. Peeta looks away first, already scrambling for ideas on where to find something yellow orange by tomorrow so he can prove his best friend wrong.
Huh, he still considers her his best friend.
And she doesn't even know.
The end of the school day comes and Peeta still has nothing. He walks slower than usual on the way home from school, trailing far behind Graham and Rye. Graham, being the oldest, runs back to hurry Peeta along.
"Dude, you're moving like a snail, come on!" Graham complains while taking a hold of Peeta's hand and dragging him to catch up with Rye.
"Can you show me something that is yellow orange?" Peeta asks both of his brothers once all three are walking together again. They both look at him with identical faces of confusion.
Rye, being the know-it-all second grader, speaks first, "Yellow orange? Who doesn't know what yellow orange looks like?"
Peeta doesn't want to tell his brothers about his bet with Katniss, so he instead asks again, "What is something in real life that is yellow orange?" Neither seems to have an answer.
They all keep walking, but Graham seems to think thoughtfully. They're just walking down the sidewalk that leads to the back entrance to the bakery when Graham snaps his fingers together with an 'aha!' Peeta waits expectantly, bouncing on his feet with excitement. "You have an idea!?"
Graham nods enthusiastically. "I've got something better than an idea," he announces with the authority of a fifth grader. "I've got proof." Rye and Peeta stare at their brother, one with anticipation, the other with boredom.
"Whatever, I don't care," Rye yawns as he walks past Graham into the bakery. Peeta still bounces on his feet, watching his brother hopefully.
"You got something that can show me exactly what color yellow orange is, Peet?" Graham asks as he holds the door open for Peeta. Peeta nods excitedly as he reaches into his backpack for his beloved pack of crayons, pulling out the yellow orange one and a piece of paper from his notebook. He spreads the paper onto the nearest counter and scribbles enthusiastically across the page with the crayon, looking up at his big brother eagerly. Graham stares at it for a moment before walking toward one of the cabinets full of ingredients.
And out he pulls food coloring and a mixing spoon.
Then he walks over to the fridge and pulls out a small bowl full of white icing.
Graham puts both on the counter and stares at Peeta's yellow orange scribbles again. And then he starts putting drops of food coloring into the bowl and stirring. Peeta can't see from where he is, so he drags one of the stools over and hops onto it, staring into the bowl that now has orange icing.
But it's too dark.
And Peeta announces that observation out loud. Graham scoffs, but continues stirring. "Then you add the coloring, I'll keep stirring."
So Peeta, having never touched the food coloring before, starts adding more drops of yellow to the orange icing, and as Graham stirs, he can see it.
He can actually see it.
Yellow orange icing.
Peeta is so happy, he jumps up and nearly flies right off the stool he balances on.
"That's it! That's it Graham! That's it!"
Graham stops his stirring and starts to laugh, "Jeez Peet, okay, okay! Don't fall over, Ma will freak out." But Graham's attention is only half on Peeta's safety. The other half is looking back between the crayon scribbles and the icing in the bowl. "Wow Peet, they're identical. Now what are ya gonna do with it?"
Hmm. Peeta hadn't gotten that far. He shrugs his shoulders and looks at Graham expectantly. Graham scrunches his eyebrows together in thought before saying, "We can make a cupcake?"
And Peeta throws his arms around his brother's neck because of course, of course a cupcake would work! And giving a yellow orange cupcake to Katniss on her birthday would be perfect. He would be right. And Katniss would get a birthday cupcake.
Graham is still laughing as he untangles himself from Peeta's arms. He looks around the bakery's kitchen for a second before flashing Peeta with a beaming smile. "Hang on a sec," he states as he rushes over to the cooling racks and pulls out one of the trays that's there.
More specifically, the cupcake tray that is there with a fresh batch of vanilla cupcakes.
Peeta is all but ready to explode with excitement. Graham grabs one cupcake from the rack and a plastic spatula, making his way back over to Peeta. "Okay," Graham says, "now we ice your cupcake."
No, Peeta thinks, now we ice Katniss's cupcake.
And they do, together.
Peeta stumbles a bit at first, but Graham helps him the whole time until he can do it on his own.
"You're a natural, Peet."
And afterwards, Graham gives Peeta a small box to wrap it in. Once that is done, Peeta reaches into his backpack for another piece of paper. He grabs his yellow orange crayon that still lays on the counter and asks Graham six questions, all starting with the words 'how do you spell.'
The next day, Peeta walks with Graham and Rye to school. Well, he tries to walk with them, but they're moving so slow.
"Peet! Slow down, will ya?" Rye shouts from down the street. But Peeta doesn't care. He's being careful crossing the streets all by himself. He looks left. And then right. And then left again, just like Daddy taught him.
He holds on to his bakery box with both hands, making sure Katniss's yellow orange cupcake stays perfect.
And he's not going to let his slowpoke brothers keep him from getting to Miss Trinket's class before Katniss to surprise her with this perfect cupcake.
So while his brothers keep complaining about how Peeta needs to slow down, Peeta only goes faster, and faster, and faster.
Finally, the school comes into view, looking far less like the zoo it had been on the first day. Peeta likes coming here now. He continues to think how much more he will like it after his surprise for Katniss. Peeta hustles into the school, never looking back at his brothers. He walks into Miss Trinket's classroom and puts his backpack and lunch in his cubby, only placing Katniss' cupcake down for a second. She isn't here yet.
He doesn't want anyone to step on Katniss's perfect cupcake before she even gets to see it.
Once he's done, he makes his way over to his desk, the cupcake box in one hand, his forty-eight pack of crayons in the other. But he's not sure what to do now. Put the box on Katniss's desk? Hide it until she comes?
He decides to place it right on top of her desk. That way, she won't think he forgot it's her birthday.
Realizing he left his notebook in his backpack, he races over there to grab it, only turning away from the cupcake for a second. And when he turns back, his view of the cupcake his blocked by a girl standing in front of it.
A girl with brown hair. And two braids.
Peeta's face breaks out into a smile, and he rushes over to her, unable to hide his delight.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATNISS!" He shouts as he makes his way to her side.
But she doesn't turn her head to look at him. She just keeps looking at the box.
Peeta doesn't understand why she won't look at him, so he reaches in front of her and picks up the box. He watches Katniss's eyes follow the box, but they don't look at him.
"Uh," Peeta squeaks, feeling his face get really, really warm, "I made you a cupcake for your birthday," he tries to explain while opening the box and pulling out the cupcake he's so proud of. He holds it out in front of Katniss's face, almost touching her nose. She takes it from him, and her eyebrows do this funny thing where they go closer together. Peeta thinks maybe it's better to not say anything.
So he looks at Katniss.
And looks.
And looks.
And she looks at her cupcake.
And looks.
And looks.
"It's yellow orange," she whispers in amazement. "You made me a yellow orange cupcake?"
Peeta's smile returns in full force, "Yeah! I found you something yellow orange for your birthday!" Then he puts his hands on his hips proudly. "Told ya I could do it."
He wins the bet.
And Katniss gets a birthday cupcake.
He thought maybe she would be mad to lose, but the smile she gives Peeta matches the one on his own face. "You got me a cupcake for my birthday. That was really, really, super nice Peeta."
"You're not mad that you lost?"
"Kinda. But I knew you could find it. Find the yellow orange. You're smart like that," she tells him as she places the cupcake back in the bakery box carefully, making sure none of the yellow orange icing gets smeared. Peeta can feel his warm face get even hotter.
"Yeah, but you're smart, too," he states. "And," he mumbles quietly, "you can read, so you're smarter."
Katniss turns her head back to him. "No one else can read yet either Peeta, you can do it," she comments. She stays quiet for a second before asking, "Do you think I could do it?"
"What, read?"
"No silly! That I could find something that looks like a crayon color?"
Peeta thinks for a moment. Could she do it? Of course, he thinks.
But he doesn't want to make it too easy for her. "I've got an idea. My birthday is October 11. I'm going to be six."
Katniss's eyebrows do that funny thing again. "So?"
"Hold on," Peeta tells her as he runs over to his cubby for the third time, grabbing his brown bagged lunch and placing its contents in the bottom of his backpack, thinking his idea is super, super cool. And smart. He runs back over to where Katniss stands by their desks, watching him curiously. She doesn't say anything, but Peeta watches as her mouth drops open while Peeta takes his treasured pack of crayons and dumps all of them into the paper bag.
"What did you do that for!?" She shrieks. "They were all put so nice in there!"
Peeta just gives her the same toothy grin he gave his father when his daddy revealed the secret about Katniss's mommy.
He holds out the bag with two hands in front of her, just in front of her nose. The same way he had presented her cupcake.
"Stick your hand in the bag and take a crayon," Peeta commands with as much seriousness as he can muster.
Katniss's head tilts to the side as she smirks at him, but she does as she's asked. Her hand dips into the paper bag and pulls out a crayon that Peeta thinks looks like purple.
A light purple, though.
He watches as Katniss rolls the crayon in her hand, trying to understand the markings that make up its name. "T– T–, ugh!" She huffs in frustration.
Peeta picks up the crayon out of her palm and looks at the markings. "T-H-I-S-T-L-E. What's that word?" Katniss shrugs her shoulders.
"It's 'thistle' darling!" Miss Trinket announces as she makes her way up behind them. "T-H-I-S-T-L-E spells the word 'thistle.'" And as quickly as she popped up from behind them, she makes her way to her desk in the front.
Peeta gives her a triumphant smile. Katniss scowls.
"You chose thistle!"
"No way!" Katniss squeals. "I don't want that one! I don't even know what that is! I want another," she states as she reaches for the bag full of crayons in Peeta's hand. But Peeta whips it away from her.
"Nuh-uh. You can't break the rules!"
"What rules!?"
"The rules that say you can't pick another crayon," Peeta says matter-of-factly, even though he just made up the rule moments beforehand.
Katniss huffs again and sticks out her lower lip. "Please?"
"Nope," Peeta smiles, "If you can find me something the color of that crayon," Peeta holds up the crayon still in his other hand, "then you prove you can do it too."
"And if I can't?"
"I know you can."
Katniss smiles at Peeta, teeth and all. He likes how her front teeth have a space. It looks cool.
"October 11?" She sticks out her small hand.
Peeta takes it, surprised at how soft it feels compared to his daddy's. "October 11."
And they shake on it.
After that, Miss Trinket starts calling for everyone to start getting ready to 'learn, learn, learn!' Peeta hadn't even realized that all the other kindergartners are in the room. Katniss heads to her cubby to put her cupcake away for later. He watches her, and then remembers.
His note!
He hurries over to his own cubby, for the fourth time, and pulls out the piece of notebook paper he had written on last night. He double checks to make sure it's still smooth with no wrinkles, then rushes over to Katniss at her cubby.
She turns around in surprise.
He hands her the note.
She opens it up.
He looks at the first sentence he is ever able to actually read.
She looks up, beaming at him.
He knows her answer from that smile.
On the piece of lined paper, in Peeta's handwriting, written with a yellow orange crayon, are six words, one question:
Will you be my best friend?
This story is going to end up being a total of eight chapters, so keep an eye out for the next chapter soon! Again, thanks for reading :)