A/N: I know, I know, I shouldn't be starting a new story when I haven't finished my last. Rest assured, I have every intention of finishing Peeta's Blessing however, I've had this story in my head for quite some time. I can't promise fast updates but I wanted to get the first chapter out as soon as possible because it's all about Christmas! Let me know what you think. Your encouragement may lead to faster updates plus I love reviews. They make my day.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter One
Panem, PA
The holidays are always the worst. My students are extremely restless this time of year, anxiously awaiting their holiday break which makes teaching anything new a complete waste of time. They were especially rambunctious today, passing notes back and forth or sneaking glances at their cell phones hidden underneath their desks. One would think their social lives are way more important than learning the process of photosynthesis.
Disrespectful tenth graders are not even the most irritating part of the holidays. It frustrates me how the general population is either overly cheerful or downright nasty which is saying something considering my normal disposition. Why can't we all act like we do any other time of the year? The mother in front of me in the checkout line at the grocery store is obviously at her wits end. It's hard to say who she is going to strangle first – the uncontrollable toddler in her shopping cart throwing a temper tantrum or the overly enthusiastic yet oblivious cashier ringing her up. How is it possible for someone to be that cheerful working at a grocery store the week of Thanksgiving?
"Will this be all for you?" The cashier asks glancing down at my purchases, her smile fading. She's clearly judging me for buying a six-pack of Sam's Adam's Winter Lager and a large Digiorno Pizza when everyone else in their right minds are stocking up on turkeys, vegetables and desserts. I nod in response, ignoring her "Thanks and Happy Holidays" on my way out the door.
Insolent students and perky cashiers are the least of my concerns this time of the year because no matter how bad they can be, the absolute worst part of the holidays is the accompanied loneliness. If I didn't have to work for a living or function as a normal human being, I would drink myself into a drunken stupor November through January. Sadly, I'm forced to settle for a six-pack of beer over a long holiday weekend effectively ignoring the handful of invitations I received from friends asking me to join their family traditions. Strangely being around other families makes me miss mine even more. Go figure.
At least avoiding my friends was the plan until I arrive home to find one of my oldest friends, Madge Undersee, sitting in the hallway outside of my apartment. "Finally!" She smiles. "You've been off work for…" Madge glances at her watch "…over an hour. Where the hell have you been?" My bubbly friend asks, standing from her position on the floor. Madge is my complete opposite in every way. She's friendly and outgoing while I'm explosive and socially awkward. The differences don't stop at our personalities either. My friend comes from money and she looks like one of those women off of "The Real Housewives of Orange County" with her golden blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect complexion and super model body. I have a decent complexion but my skin looks like I've spent too much time in the sun, my dark hair is completely unmanageable unless it's pulled back in my signature braid and my eyes are a dull, boring gray.
"The fucking store is a mad house." I admit holding up the six-pack of beer and plastic bag containing my frozen dinner.
She chuckles following me into my apartment to my kitchen where I toss my keys and purse onto the counter. My apartment is small but it's just me so it's not like I need a lot of space. At least it's an open floor plan which I find quite cozy. I can see my entire apartment from any point in the house with the exception of the bathroom and the single bedroom when the doors are shut. The place is furnished with eclectic, mismatched furniture of various colors and patterns I discovered at yard sales, auctions, flea markets and thrift stores throughout the city.
"Well, what do you expect, Katniss? It is the day before Thanksgiving! Moms all around the country are preparing for the biggest dinner of the year. You know some people look forward to this meal all year long."
"Get to the point." I tell her opening a bottle of beer as I pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees. Although, I already have an idea what that point might be.
"Don't worry. I'm not begging you to come to dinner tomorrow despite how much I want you there. Gale told me to let you be so I am." Gale Hawthorne has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. He's like the brother I never had or basically the male version of me. Madge and Gale actually met through me, fell madly in love and have been dating ever since. He knows me better than anyone and I'm thankful he understands my need to wallow in my loneliness sometimes. "I actually have a favor to ask of you."
Intrigued, I respond, "What is it?"
"Well, Daddy is hosting a community service project this weekend at the City Building and I told him I would get as many volunteers as I could. You'd be doing me...I mean us, a huge favor if you could be there Saturday. You know he's up for re-election next year and I swear that Senator Snow would do anything in his power to get my father out of office. He disagrees with daddy on everything including public education. You know how much my dad supports everything you do as a teacher." Madge is rambling to get me to agree to her obvious ploy to prevent me from hibernating all weekend long. I've got to hand it to her for creativity this year. She hasn't once asked me to dinner. I contemplate my choices regarding the community service project while Madge continues her well prepared monologue but really, there is no choice. I like Mayor Undersee and I don't mind volunteering my time to support his campaign. It's not like I have anything else to do and she's still giving me two whole days to bask in my misery before forcing me to interact with other humans.
"Fine. I'll be there." I snap. Madge doesn't have to know how easy of a decision it was for me to make.
"Great!" She smiles broadly. "I'll see you Saturday morning at nine. Breakfast will be provided." She hollers heading towards my front door as if everything is settled.
"Wait! What exactly will we be doing?"
The mischievous smile she gives me as she turns around makes me extremely nervous. "We're preparing Christmas packages for locally deployed soldiers. Isn't that wonderful! I'll see you Saturday, Katniss. Enjoy your dinner!" My friend slams the front door behind her before I even have a chance to back out of the project. Damn her. She knows how much I hate the holidays. This is her evil way of forcing her Christmas cheer on me without actually forcing it on me. How can I say no to the Mayor and the local heroes who risk their lives for us daily without sounding like a complete asshole? Damn her.
Thanksgiving Day consists of grading AP exams and stuffing my face with Chinese takeout while I spend all day Friday curled up on my threadbare couch watching a Walking Dead marathon. Who needs to fight bargain shoppers when you can watch a sexy Norman Reedus fight zombies? I contemplate calling my mom and wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving but she's probably working a double at the hospital. I know how short staffed they are this time of the year. It's not like she bothered to call me anyway. We only talk a couple of times of year even though we're the last of the Everdeen clan.
Unfortunately, Saturday morning approaches much too fast for my liking and before I know it I'm on my way to the City Building. "Ok, Gale and I were up all night baking chocolate chip cookies to send in the packages. Each care package will include one bag of cookies, one bag of toiletries, and a Christmas card with a hand written note." Madge explains pointing out each step of the process, clearly proud of the idea.
"So I have to actually write something in the card?" I scoff taking a bite of a cookie before Madge tries to steal it away from me.
"Those are for the soldiers. Your breakfast is over there." She points to a table with boxes of donuts and coffee. "And yes, you have to write something in the card. It's important to let the troops know we appreciate everything they do for us and the sacrifices they make. Many of them probably have families they would love to see during this time of the year but instead they are over there fighting for me and you."
"Chill out. I'll do it. Give me some cards." I grab a pile of Christmas cards from the table and find an empty seat to begin bullshitting my way through cheerful holiday messages. Madge wouldn't take too kindly to me expressing any negativity to our deployed soldiers. Not that I blame her.
The number of care packages along the wall is unbelievable. Despite my reservations, I really do feel good working on this project. It's amazing how much we can accomplish if we set our minds to it. All and all there are about twenty volunteers making this gift possible including many of Madge's family and friends I've met over the years. I'm finishing my last box when Madge snatches the Christmas card right out from under my hands. "Did you write your apartment as the return address on all of your cards?"
"What the hell? You told me to make it personal. That's what a normal person does when they send a card!"
"To someone they know! I wouldn't have given a complete stranger my home address. Do you want a creeper stalking you after he returns from his deployment?" She acts like I should have known better but honestly, how was I supposed to know what she wanted?
"Whatever. What am I supposed to do now? I wrote it on all of them!" My eyes follow her gaze to the hundreds of packages lining the wall. There is absolutely no way to determine which ones I prepared versus which ones everyone else prepared.
"Well, I'm not going through them." She catches the crestfallen look on my face. "Relax. I don't think any of them will actually stalk you besides, I think it's kind of sweet and way more personable than the rest of them. Your soldiers will probably appreciate their gifts more."
"Thanks for making me feel better."
My students return from Thanksgiving break with renewed energy that only seems to last through the middle of December. Shutting their minds off before any break, long holiday weekend or summer vacation seems to be a talent high school kids have perfected over the years which is exactly why I enjoy assigning term papers over the long holiday break. I have perfected the art of making impressionable minds moan and groan and in fact, I take pleasure in it.
It is one of the only things I enjoy during the holiday which is sort of pathetic now that I think about it. At least making my students lives a living hell distracts me from what I'm really missing. It has been ten years since my sister passed away and almost fifteen years since I lost my father. There is a saying that time heals all wounds. I wonder how much time we are talking here because I can't imagine a time where I'll miss them any less than what I do now or what I have since the moment they stopped existing.
Christmas passes for me much like Thanksgiving without the added bonus of Madge forcing me into another community service project. However, she does bring me a present and a tin full of homemade cookies and candies. I beg her not to ever year but little good it does me.
My mother manages to call me this year on Christmas Eve. It's not like I'm busy. I'm reading one of my favorite books, avoiding anything Christmas related on the television when I see her number flash across my cell phone screen. It would be easy to answer it but I choose to hit the ignore button instead. The ping of my phone lets me know she left a message. To listen or not to listen, that is the question. I listen.
"Hey, Katniss. It's your mom. It's about ten o'clock." Does she not realize my phone tells me she called and at what time? "I'm working a double at the hospital tonight. It's actually pretty quiet here so I thought I'd step away and give you a call. You must be busy or asleep or something. I know you don't like this time of the year. Me neither but I still wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and let you know I'm thinking of you wherever you are, whatever you're doing. I love you."
I should call her back. She probably wouldn't answer it anyway. I could easily leave a message similar to the one she left me confessing I love her too and wish her well but some things are easier said than done.
Madge and Gale are hosting a New Year's Eve party this year and I really do consider making an appearance. I even go as far as doing my hair, putting on make-up and wearing a cute little black dress I splurged on last year with the same good intentions. Of course, it doesn't happen. Twenty minutes later my hair is braided, my face is washed and my dress is back in the closet where it belongs while I'm wearing old sweats and a well-worn t-shirt.
I shoot Madge a quick text message explaining that I'm not feeling well. Even through written word, I can't lie worth shit but my friend doesn't try to argue. She messages me back with wishes to feel better which actually make me feel worse for lying to her in the first place.
Luckily for me, my mother always volunteers to work holidays. She doesn't have anyone to spend them with so why not give others the chance to be with their families? New Year's Eve is one of the busiest nights at the hospital thanks to all the dumb asses out there that think it's a smart idea to drink and drive. As a registered nurse, she's probably being pulled in a million different directions right about now which makes this the perfect time to give her a call and let her know I'm still alive. It's been months since she's heard my voice. I never did return her call on Christmas Eve.
Like I predicted, I get her voice mail. "Hey, Mom. It's me – Katniss. It's about eleven o'clock." I'm well aware her phone will show her I called and when. "I'm sorry I never returned your call a couple of weeks ago but I've been busy. I'm sure you're probably working right now. I bet it's a mad house. I'm actually just going to sleep through the New Year. I'm beat. Anyway, stay safe tonight. I love you and I'll talk to you later."
My students return to school in January with subdued attitudes. I couldn't be happier. Overall, they did a great job on their reports I had assigned over Christmas break. Teaching is very rewarding when you can watch your students comprehend a new concept or theory and apply that knowledge in everyday life.
It's the end of my first week back to work and I'm checking my mailbox on the bottom floor of my apartment complex like I do every day after school when I notice a strange envelope addressed to me. Obviously, it isn't any kind of brightly colored advertisement and it doesn't look like any of my normal bills or an annoying credit card offer. Curious as to who could be sending me something in the mail, I take the envelope upstairs to my apartment to open. What I discover completely surprises me. It's a letter written in a manly scrawl.
Dear Ms. Everdeen,
Thank you so much for the thoughtful Christmas gift. I really appreciated the soaps and those cookies were delicious. The card on the other hand, could you use a bit of work. Do you even like Christmas? Tell me the truth, did someone hold a gun to your head and force you to write that bullshit? A knife, maybe?
I am all about spreading Christmas joy. It's actually my favorite holiday but your card was just downright depressing. That's saying something where I come from. Trust me. It doesn't get much more depressing than being thousands of miles away from home in a hell hole in the middle of the fucking desert with no end in sight.
You may think its bad, whatever this is you're going through, but it's not the end of the world. There's always a dandelion in the spring, even here. I hope you find yours. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
Sincerely,
PFC Peeta Mellark
My jaw hangs open for a good five minutes after I finish his letter. Not one hundred percent positive that the letter is real; I re-read the words on the page at least twice more. I stand completely still in the middle of my living room in a daze. The only thing I can manage to do is think, who the fuck is Peeta Mellark?