I love the summers. Finally free from the restriction of school, every day is a new adventure. I can explore the outdoors, swim in the waterhole, and play with my goat, Lady. Even nighttime is magical. We open all the windows, trying to capture a hint of a breeze, and the sounds of nature lull me to sleep.

Summer is anything but magical for my sister, Katniss. Ever since our father died four years ago, she's been working her summers away. The moment school lets out, her part-time job at the local market turns into a full-time commitment. Most weeks she's working right up until Saturday, taking extra shifts whenever her co-workers want time off. The only day she takes off consistently is Sunday, and that's only because the market is closed.

I feel bad that Katniss works so hard, but I know it's necessary. Before she was old enough to take on more hours, the bills started piling up and there were nights we went to bed hungry. I've offered to babysit or get a paper route, anything to help out, but she won't hear of it. Not that she has much choice; I turn 13 this September, and I'm going to get a job whether she likes it or not.

So this is my last summer of freedom, tranquility and lazy days. My last summer of childhood.

Of course, my time isn't completely my own. I have chores around the farm; taking care of the animals, cleaning out the barn, and of course the usual laundry and dishes my friends are always griping about. But they don't bother me much, because I know as long as I finish up by lunchtime, the rest of the day is all mine.

This morning, my mother asked me to do some extra cleaning to prepare for a visit. A childhood friend of hers recently moved back to Panem county. He was someone she knew when she grew up in the center of town, back before she married dad and moved to his family farm. The two reconnected when she saw him at the market, and she invited him to come to dinner with us. Tonight.

Scrubbing the floors – a job I detest – takes longer than I had planned, and by the time I wrap up the rest of my chores it's midafternoon. The sun is blazing in the sky and the air is heavy. Sweat trickles down my collar and plasters my shirt to my torso. There's only one thing that could turn my mood around: a nice swim in the creek.

My swimming hole of choice is a small creek that follows part of the border between our property and the old Undersee farm. The Undersees owned that farm for generations, but the family fell on hard times when I was younger. After her sister was killed in a domestic dispute, Mrs. Undersee had a nervous breakdown. They had a daughter the same age as Katniss, and eventually the household just became too much for her husband to handle on his own. They moved up north so he could find work closer to his cousin, and the farm has been abandoned ever since.

When I arrive at the creek, I quickly shed my shoes and clothes and jump in from my favorite boulder. I haven't had a swim suit that fit me in years, but we're so isolated out here, I've become accustomed to swimming in my underwear. I'm still so flat there's not much point in wearing much else, especially when I'm swimming alone.

I surface and wipe the water out of my eyes, sighing as the breeze blows across the droplets on my skin. The water is warm, bath-like, but it's still a relief from this hot, muggy day.

"Hey!"

I shriek and spin around, startled by the deep voice behind me. A boy with concerned blue eyes is studying me from a few feet away, standing in shallow water close to the bank. The waves lapping at his knees draw my attention to the fact that he's only wearing a pair of orange boxer shorts. His blond hair is a mess of unruly curls, and his broad shoulders are so fair I can't help but hope he's wearing sunscreen.

"What the heck are you doing here? Get out!" I command, ducking farther beneath the surface and making sure that only my neck is exposed. "You're trespassing!"

"Me?" he scoffs. "You're the one that's trespassing!" His abs tighten as he laughs, and I'm distracted by the ripple of his muscles.

"Am not!" I call out. "This is the old Undersee place, and I know for a fact that YOU are not an Undersee!"

"Correction. This was the old Undersee place. Now it's the new Mellark place. And I know for a fact that YOU are not a Mellark." He quirks an eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips, challenging me to dispute him.

I squint at him, trying to determine if he's lying. Now that I think about it, I did hear my sister talking about the farm finally being put up for sale after standing abandoned for all those years. And it seems like an awfully elaborate lie to come up with just to swim in our little watering hole.

"Fine." I groan and slap at the water, conceding defeat. He raises both eyebrows at me, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "You've ruined my mood, But I'll have you know this creek is half ours. And I'm not going to let you keep me from it the whole summer. Now turn around so I can get out!"

The boy laughs and turns around, folding his arms in front of his chest. "Don't worry about it. It's not like there's all that much to see anyway, kid."

My cheeks flush with an overwhelming blend of rage and embarrassment. "Thank you, I am not a kid."

"Not a kid, huh?" He keeps his back to me as I dress, but I sense the smile on his face. "What are you, 10? 11?"

My foot catches in my shorts as I hurry to redress and I nearly topple over. "I'm almost 13. I'm starting high school next year."

"Whoo-hoo! A real lady of the world! That changes everything."

I throw my faded t-shirt over my head, pulling it down as it sticks to my damp skin. My hair is dripping all over, making it cling to me even more. I duck behind a tree to get some privacy. "Done. You can turn around now."

He slowly turns around, looking lost when he can't immediately find me. Being small does has its advantages when it comes to hiding.

He wades in a few more inches until the water is just at his thighs, until finally he spies me behind the tree. "You know, I wasn't trying to kick you out or anything. You just surprised me."

"Nah, you ruined my swimming mood. I don't want to stay." I watch him for a few more minutes, reaching down to splash some of the water up onto his arms without actually submerging himself. He cups his hands full of water and uses it to wet his face and hair. He pushes the damp curls off his forehead and shakes his head a little. I'm mesmerized by the way a fat droplet moves down his nose toward his lips. "Besides, I have to get home anyway."

"Suit yourself," he concedes. "You can come back here whenever you want. Just be a little more careful with your wardrobe choices next time," he warns with a smirk.

I groan, pushing myself off the tree and traipsing back home through the woods. I won't even dignify that with a response.

When I arrive home, mom is already cooking dinner. The house is even warmer from the heat of the oven, and what little relief swimming gave me is lost the second I walk through the door.

I head into the shower to clean up and rinse some of the slime off me from the creek. Mom has laid out a nice skirt and shirt for me to wear, and within ten minutes I'm exasperated with the choice. Normally I like dressing up, but the oppressive heat is making everything stick to me. Plus, I had a growth spurt this spring and I'm starting to outgrow a lot of my clothes. This particular shirt is just a little too short and keeps coming un-tucked from the skirt. Katniss is working tonight, but I smile as I imagine her usual teasing about my "duck tail."

Mom offers to do my hair, and weaves the damp strands into a pair of French braids. The style is a little childish, but then again, it's cooler away from my neck. Plus I know it'll give me nice waves tomorrow, which will be a treat since I inherited my mother's straight blonde strands.

After setting the table and some last minute prep, I retire to my room to read in front of the fan. I've already read through my Red Cross handbook about a dozen times, but I love it. Mom is a nurse at a nearby clinic, and I've been thinking about following in her footsteps when I grow up. She's helping me choose books from the library, and we watch marathon sessions of medical TV shows.

Of course, we only watch them when Katniss is working; my sister can hunt, thanks to happier years with our father, but she's brought to her knees by the sight of human blood. She nearly fainted last year when I got a cut that needed stitches.

"They're here!" Mom calls out from the kitchen. They? She never mentioned her friend bringing anyone else, and I only set the table for three. Maybe he's married or something; I never thought to ask.

When I get to the kitchen, I see mom receiving a bear hug from a man with cropped blond hair. "It's so good to see you again, Evelyn." He steps back and gives her a warm smile. "I hope that you don't mind me bringing Peeta along. I didn't want him stuck home all alone for dinner."

"Of course not, Luke. The more the merrier. Is he coming in?"

"Oh, he's still in the truck, texting a friend from his old school. You know how kids can be. He'll be in any minute. Is this-" He has spotted me watching them from the doorway. "This can't be little Primrose?"

Mom turns and puts an arm around my shoulders, drawing me closer to them. "It is. Not so little anymore." She squeezes my shoulders. "Prim, this is my good friend, Lucas Mellark."

Mellark? As I'm trying to figure out why that sounds so familiar, the screen door opens and I recognize the mop of curls that interrupted my swimming plans. He's cleaned up, wearing a light blue polo shirt that somehow matches the shade of his eyes. A look of surprise is quickly replaced by amusement at my gaping stare.

"Sorry about that, dad. Finn is having girl issues again."

"No worries. Come on over, Peet." Mr. Mellark puts an arm around his son's shoulders, mirroring the position mom and I are still in. He's at least six inches taller than the boy, but they have the same warm eyes and matching dimples. "Ev, you remember Peeta."

"Hello, Mrs. Everdeen. Thank you for letting me intrude on your dinner." He wraps an arm around his father's waist, his smile bright enough to light up the room.

"Don't be silly, Peeta! You're more than welcome." My mother steps forward to squeeze his shoulder before moving to the pots on the stove. "Besides, it will give Prim someone to talk to while us grown-ups are getting reacquainted."

"Let me help you." Mr. Mellark leaves his son's side and starts to stir a pot while mom checks the contents of the oven. Peeta and I are left staring each other down.

"That sounds great. I'm sure Prim and I will have a lot of fun getting to know each other better." I roll my eyes at his playful smirk before heading into the dining room to add a fourth place setting.

"Did you know who I was? At the creek?" I hand him the dish I've just washed and he dries it carefully with a towel. "You could have just told me who you were, you know."

Peeta moves the dry stack of plates to the cabinet, and I point out the right shelf. The sound of our parents' laughter drifts in from the porch.

"I had no clue who you were. And I did tell you who I was, remember?" Peeta points out.

I shrug, but refuse to look up from the pan I'm scrubbing. I'm not ready to give in just yet. "I guess. I just don't see how you didn't recognize me."

Peeta laughs. "We moved away when I was six, Prim. You were only two. I think it's clear we've changed quite a bit since then."

After scrubbing for a few minutes, I decide to let the pan soak. I fill it with warm soapy water and grab the towel to dry my hands. I turn around to face Peeta, who has hopped up on the island countertop and is swinging his legs slightly.

"I don't really remember much about you, just that you used to run around in your diaper all the time and hated wearing clothes." He smirks. "So I guess not much has changed."

I chuck the damp towel at him, and he catches it in his right hand. "I'm kidding!" he laughs. "Really, that's all. I remember Katniss, though, since we were the same age. She used to wear her hair like this a lot." He tugs on one of my braids and smiles. "I used to practice my baking skills and make mud pies for her." His gaze seems to drift off with the memory, his lips curling up slightly at the corners. "We were best friends," he murmurs.

A guffaw from the porch seems to shake him from his thoughts, and he hops down and puts his hands in his pockets. "Where is your sister tonight, anyway?"

I lead him into the living room, taking a seat on the rocker and leaving him his choice of couches. "Working. She's closing at Crane's Market tonight."

"On a Saturday night?" Peeta asks.

"Every Saturday. Pretty much every day. She's always working." I mean to sound sympathetic, but there's a hint of bitterness in my voice. I appreciate Katniss for working so hard, but sometimes it would just be nice to have my sister around.

"That's too bad," Peeta replies. "I had hoped to catch up with her some time, too. Guess I'll have to settle for the pleasure of your company." His smile is so warm, I would almost swear my cheeks are on fire.

"Do you work?" I ask, clearing my throat.

"Yeah, but not for money," he says. "I'm helping dad around the farm, trying to get some of the old equipment up and running." He shakes his head. "I gotta be honest, my dad's kind of like the city mouse transplanted out here in the country. He's a baker at heart, so he knows a lot about wheat, it's just... usually... post-harvest."

He slaps his hands down on his thighs and wipes off his palms on his shorts. "Anyway, we're doing our best. Luckily, our past in the bakery means we're not afraid of early hours, which has been great with this heat. By the afternoon we're calling it quits for the day, and I can go to the creek or read or paint; whatever I want."

"Paint the house?" I ask, earning me a nervous laugh.

"No, um, like 'artwork' painting. On a canvas."

I watch his big hands as he rubs them mindlessly on his knees and try to imagine them holding a small paintbrush, painting delicate lines. "Wow."

He shrugs, looking down at the floor. "I know. Kind of lame, right?"

"No," I insist. "No, actually I was thinking it's pretty cool. I'd love to see your work sometime."

He looks back up, a grateful grin on his face. "Yeah. I think that can be arranged."

After Mom and Mr. Mellark finish their catching up, we all say goodbye on the porch.

"Now Miss Primrose, I'm hoping you and your sister will be around this summer to keep my Peeta company. He doesn't really know anyone else around here, and we're such close neighbors, it would be a shame not to get to know each other better."

I nod. "Definitely, Mr. Mellark."

"Maybe Prim and I can even meet up at the creek sometime," Peeta says with a mischievous grin.

I roll my eyes, trying to hide my pleased smile.

I get myself ready for bed. It's after 10, but I'm still too wound up for sleep. The possibilities for this summer have just shifted. I was prepared to be lonely, my sister gone all the time, my mother keeping herself too busy to be much company. And now, I've got a new friend. Everything is different.

My bed is beside the only window in our shared room. Katniss let me have this side (in exchange for the bigger half of the closet) so I could get the benefit of the breeze on the warm summer nights. I lay down and stare out the window at the stars.

A few minutes later, I hear a familiar truck pulling up the driveway and watch Gale Hawthorne drive up to the front of the house. Both doors slam as Gale and Katniss get out of the truck. Our families have been friends for years. He works at the butcher counter of Crane's market, and whenever possible, he and Katniss ride into work together. In fact, he's the one who helped get her the job at the market in the first place.

Katniss leans against the passenger door for a minute, talking. I can't hear exactly what she's saying, but I can tell she's worked up because she keeps waving her hands around. Gale walks around to her and is just listening for a minute when suddenly, he leans in and kisses her hard on the mouth. She is frozen in place and looks shocked at first, but then she flattens both palms against his chest and shoves him away from her.

She disappears from my sight, and I can hear the front door open and then slam.

"Catnip! I'm sorry, okay! I had to do that, at least once…" Gale trails off as he shouts to the closed door. He glances up at our window and I push myself out of view, the curtain swinging traitorously beside me.

I shuffle to the head of my bed and throw the sheet over my shoulders as my sister stomps up the stairs to our room. I hear her kick her shoes off and throw a piece of clothing to the floor.

"I know you're awake over there, Prim. You really need to work on your spying skills." I open my eyes and watch her furiously work at the buttons on her shirt. "Ugh!" She finally gives up and sits down heavily on her bed, burying her face in her hands. "Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to go and ruin everything?" she mumbles through her fingers.

I throw back the covers and move to sit beside her on her bed, putting my arm around her. Katniss leans into me, sighing. "I don't even know where that came from. I thought we were friends!"

"You are friends," I say, gathering her hair back. "That's probably why he waited so long to say something."

She sits up straighter and looks at me, a look of shock on her face. "What? What are you talking about?"

Can a person really be that clueless? I wonder. Then I remember I'm talking to Katniss. "Gale's liked you for a long time," I say softly. "Anyone watching could see it."

She just stares at me for a few minutes, her mouth gaping. Finally she shakes her head and closes her eyes. "It doesn't matter. I don't feel that way about him. About anyone. And I never will. I'm never falling in love or getting married."

"Katniss, don't say that. Someday, you'll change your mind, want to have kids-"

"Never, Prim. Love… it causes nothing but problems." She gets up and grabs her nightgown. "And it's not fair to bring kids into a life like this."

She marches out into the hallway and slams the bedroom door behind her.

"Have you ever been in love?"

I float past Peeta, lying on my back. Since we started meeting up most afternoons, I modified one of Katniss's old bathing suits so I can swim more freely.

"Love?" he asks with a chuckle, splashing water at me with his toe. "Isn't it a little soon to be thinking about love? We've only known each other a couple of weeks."

"What?!" I lose my concentration and start to sink. I quickly recover and tread water, my face flaming. "I wasn't- I didn't-"

"I'm teasing, Prim!" Peeta laughs easily. He reaches a hand down and helps me climb up onto the rock beside him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"That's not what I meant," I grumble, but I can't bring myself to meet his eyes.

"Hey." He grabs my towel and wraps it around me, bumping my shoulder with his. "I was just joking. We're friends, right?"

I finally look over, into blue eyes so kind and warm they melt my shame away. "Yeah," I chuckle.

"Alrighty then." He swings his legs, cooling his toes in the water. "So. Love? No. Can't say that I've ever been in love."

I feel a confusing swirl of emotions - surprise? relief? - but I keep my face neutral. "Never?"

He thinks for a moment. "Well, there was this one girl…" He smiles, a strange wistful expression, and shakes his head. "But it was more like a crush. We were really young."

I stare out at the water, wondering who his mystery girl might be, when he bumps me in the shoulder again. "So, I have to know. Why did you ask? Is there someone from school-"

"No!" I shake my head insistently. "It wasn't about me. It was about my sister."

"Katniss?" he asks with a frown. The two of them still haven't had a chance to meet since she always seems to be working. "Has she fallen in love with someone?"

"No, the opposite. She says she never wants to fall in love. That it ruins everything."

"Really?" He looks genuinely surprised, and a little sad. "Well, I happen to believe the opposite. Love is… hope. Sometimes, in your darkest moments, it's the only light you can find. The only thing that keeps you fighting. Love doesn't make you weak; it's the source of your strength."

The mood has grown too serious for my liking, so I shed my towel and jump back into the water, splashing him. "Sounds like you know what you're talking about. Maybe you can convince Katniss she's wrong. She never listens to me."

He laughs. "Maybe I can. I'm pretty persuasive." He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles at me, his cheeks pink from the sun.

I smile, but deep down, I know my sister. As stubborn as she is, I don't think even sweet Peeta Mellark could convince her of the power of love.

"Why do we have to do this?" Katniss grumbles as she fidgets with the blue dress my mother made her wear. "It's my first night off all week. I just want a quiet night alone."

"Because Luke is my friend. And he and Peeta have been looking forward to seeing you again," my mother says.

Katniss rolls her eyes. "Me? Why? What's so special about me?"

"You're my daughter. That's what." Mom straightens the collar on Katniss's dress. "Now stop it. You and Peeta were good friends. It'll be nice to catch up."

"When we were six! I barely remember anything about him, except that he was three inches shorter than me and his hair was always in his eyes."

I laugh as I set the table. "He's definitely gotten taller. But his hair is still too long. The curls get all tangled in knots."

"His curls?" Katniss asks, intrigued. "You seem to have noticed an awful lot about Mudpie Mellark. Why is that, Prim?"

"I have not." I can feel my face flaming, and I busy myself with straightening the silverware. "We meet up at the creek most afternoons, so of course I would notice something like that. We're friends," I add, emphasizing the word too strongly.

"Friends, huh?" Katniss teases. "Sounds more like somebody's got a crush."

"Knock it off, Katniss," mom says. "Stop antagonizing your sister and get the napkins set out. They should be here soon. Prim, you can go ahead and get washed up."

I head upstairs into the bathroom and splash cool water on my cheeks. Stupid Katniss, always trying to get to me. Of course I don't have a crush on Peeta Mellark. The very thought is ridiculous.

I study myself in the mirror, trying to see past the little girl features to the woman underneath, waiting to emerge. She's nowhere to be found.

I let out a sigh. Even if I did have a crush on Peeta, there's no way he'd be interested in a kid like me.

"They're here!" I hear my mother call from downstairs. I dry my hands and take a deep breath before heading down to greet them.

As I round the corner, I see our parents through the window, talking on the porch. Peeta is standing in the entryway with Katniss. He's wearing his pale blue shirt again, a remarkable match to the blue of my sister's dress.

"Hi," Peeta says as he reaches out a hand to Katniss. She puts her hand in his, shaking slowly.

"Hi," Katniss says back, her voice soft and timid.

"It's so good to see you again," he says.

"You, too." She shakes her head slightly. "I can't believe how much you've grown. You're so… big."

Peeta laughs, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Funny the difference a decade will make. And a spot on the wrestling team."

"You wrestle?" Katniss asks. She seems to realize she's still clinging to his hand and drops it as though she's been burned, wiping hers on the back of her dress.

"I did," he says, shrugging. "At my old school anyway. Not sure I'll make it on the team here next year."

"You will!" she exclaims, then drops her voice. "I mean, you look strong. They'd probably be happy to have you."

Peeta beams at her. "Thanks," he says shyly, then clears his throat. "Um, I brought these. For you." He hands her a plate full of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap. "They're peanut butter."

"My favorite," Katniss murmurs. "How did you know?"

"I remembered. You always used to ask your dad for peanut butter cookies after we had lunch."

"Wow," Katniss says, her eyes locked on his. "You have a remarkable memory."

"Oh, I remember everything about you," he says, his blue eyes twinkling. My stomach sinks as I watch him gaze at her. I know that look. It's the same moony one Gale has been giving my sister for months.

Too bad Katniss is about to break Peeta's heart, now, too.

Or is she? I glance at Katniss as a smile creeps to her face. After a few moments, she finally tears her eyes from his and back to the cookies.

Is she blushing? What the heck is happening? I have to put an end to this.

"Mom? Is dinner ready?" I call through the screen door. Peeta and Katniss both turn their focus to me, wearing a matched look of confusion, as though I'd woken both of them from the same dream.

"Oh, hey Prim," Peeta says, giving me one of his easy smiles. "How's it going?"

"Fine," I answer, watching as his eyes seem to flit back to Katniss, then drift away back toward me again.

Katniss says nothing, just smiles at me while clutching that stupid plate of cookies.

Dinner is more of the same.

The two of them share hushed conversation on one side of the table as they catch up on a decade of their lives.

I try to interject from time to time, just to remind them I'm still here.

"Peeta's been showing me some of his paintings," I say, as Katniss is talking about her favorite classes. "They're really good."

"You paint?" she asks, never bothering to look back at me. "That's great. I remember you always loved art. You were constantly drawing pictures on any scrap of paper you could find."

Peeta laughs. "I wasn't very good. I used to try to draw pictures of you, after we moved. I could never seem to capture the essence of you. It was mostly just really elaborate pictures of braids." He fingers a strand of her hair, letting it slip between his fingers. "I missed you so much."

I want to gag on my mashed potatoes.

"He was heartbroken," Mr. Mellark adds with a chuckle. "He never really forgave us for moving him away from you."

"I cried the whole summer after you left," Katniss admits. "Every day."

"She was a wreck," Mom adds. "So forlorn. It was months before she was able to really smile again."

"What made you smile again, Katniss?" I ask sharply. "Was it when you met Gale? When you found a new best friend in him?"

Katniss frowns at me suddenly, a look of betrayal in her eyes. Okay, maybe that was mean, but at least I've got their attention again. Peeta just looks between the two of us, confused.

"Who's Gale?" he asks. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"No, he's just a friend." Katniss says firmly, throwing me another glare. "I don't have a boyfriend," she adds softly, her focus on her dish.

"Just means you haven't found the right person yet," Peeta replies just as quietly, his eyes flitting over to her then back to his plate. The two of them focus on their food for the rest of the meal, exchanging shy smiles and looks in between bites.

I've lost my appetite.

"What the hell was that all about tonight, Prim?" Katniss asks, angrily brushing her hair. "Why would you mention Gale of all people?"

"What were you doing?" I ask, deflecting her questions. "'I remember you. You used to draw. I cried when you left!'" I singsong. "I thought you didn't remember Peeta at all? You didn't even want to have this stupid dinner!"

"Maybe seeing him brought back memories," she says.

"Or maybe his curls were more interesting than you thought they'd be."

Katniss blinks, her mouth gaping slightly. "You're jealous," she whispers. She drops her brush, a look of understanding spreading across her face. "That's why you were acting like that."

"What? I am not!"

"You are," she repeats. "Prim-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. I'm not jealous of you and stupid Peeta Mellark. I don't even know what you're talking about." I pull my covers up over my shoulder and turn my back to her.

"Prim, come on. I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Good night," I say, squeezing my eyes shut and willing myself not to do something stupid like cry.

"Where on earth have you been?" Peeta's waiting on his rock, feet dangling in the water and a drawing pad on his lap. "I was starting to wonder if you found a better swimming spot."

"Nope. Just needed a break." I pull off my t-shirt and toss it on the grass before jumping into the water with a happy sigh. I've missed this place. I tried to stay away, but after three days of avoiding the inevitable encounter with Peeta, I couldn't take it anymore.

It's been easier to keep avoiding Katniss, though. She's never home anyway.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you in some way, Prim," Peeta says, a genuine look of regret on his face. "You're a good friend. I didn't mean to ignore you the other night."

I don't answer, diving under the water and coming back up to smooth out my wet hair.

"Are we okay now?" he asks. One errant curl dips down over his eye as he watches me worriedly. It's hard to stay mad at him.

"We're fine," I say, rolling my eyes dramatically.

"Good." He nods and gives me a relieved smile. "I've missed you."

"Me, too," I admit, swimming back over closer to him. "What are you working on?" I ask, nodding up to the book in his lap.

"Uh…" He quickly flips past the page he was working on to another. "A whole bunch of stuff. Like that tree over there." He shows me a pencil drawing that looks remarkably like the big oak on the side of the creek.

"Wow, that's beautiful."

"Thanks," he says with a shrug. "It's nice to pick up a pencil at the end of the day instead of another tool."

"How is everything going on the farm?"

"Pretty good. Dad's learning a lot about on what he wants to grow next year, and I'm getting a lot better at fixing up the old machinery. I've almost got the tractor up and running."

"That's great, Peeta!"

"Thanks," he says, a proud smile creeping to his cheeks. "So… How is everything at your house?"

"It's fine," I say. "Same old stuff, different day."

"How's… uh…" He fidgets with the binding on his book. "How's Katniss doing?"

My heart sinks at his hopeful tone. "She's fine, too. I guess. I never see her. She's always at work." I splash water at his feet, eager to change the subject. "Hey, why don't you swim, too? You hardly ever get wet."

He puts his drawing book safely under a tree and takes off his shirt. "I'll come in," he says. "But... I don't really know how to swim."

"You don't?" We've been meeting up for three weeks now, and I never noticed that he didn't swim. He wades, and splashes around with me, but now that I think about it, he's never gone under the water or to the deeper parts of the creek.

"Yeah. Never really learned."

"Do you want to learn? I can teach you."

He wades in to his waist. "Maybe some other time. Gotta get my head around it first." He walks a little closer to where I'm treading water. "Besides, you don't need to know how to swim to do this-" He cups his hands in the water and sends a wave in my direction.

I squeal and splash back at him, and he retaliates. The two of us take turns soaking each other with torrents of water.

I laugh harder than I have in weeks, and for just a little while, I let myself pretend that he is mine. That he wants me for his own. That there is no one else in the world that could come between us.

The next night, I wake to someone shuffling and the sound of our bedroom door closing.

I sit up and glance around the room, the glow from the moon revealing that Katniss is not in bed. According to my clock, it's after 1 AM. At first, I assume she's gone to the bathroom, until I hear the front screen door close and soft voices drift through the open window.

I peer through the curtains to see Katniss, still in her nightgown, talking to someone in the shadows. They're whispering, so I can't make out the conversation. She moves closer and takes the person's hands between her own. He steps closer to her and I gasp as I recognize the head of curls, glowing white in the moonlight.

Peeta reaches his hands up to her neck, and cups her face before slowly leaning forward to place a kiss on her lips. He pulls back and seems to pause, waiting for her reaction.

Unlike the scene I witnessed with Gale, she reaches her arms under his and around his back, pulling him close. She initiates the kiss this time, and it quickly grows passionate, their hands reaching and touching and caressing through it all.

I lay back on my pillow, heartbroken, and let the tears fall.

A/N - I originally started this story back in 2014, and finally finished it for the Prompts in Panem - Everlark Final Tribute challenge. There is one more part which I will be posting in the near future. Thank you for reading!