The hunter's son walks into the Hob, drawing all eyes towards him. Greasy Sae looks at me with understanding eyes as I fiddle with my stew. Conversation slowly fills the room, although it's shaky. The silence sweeps the room as he walks towards Sae's booth. Suddenly, I don't want my stew. Just the sight of the gloppy mixture turns my stomach. I become very aware of Derrick behind me. Judging by the expression on Greasy Sae's face, he's flashing her one of his award-winning smiles. I do all I can not to get up and leave.
"Erika. How are you?" His tone is friendly, and it chills my bones. "Derrick." I suddenly remember he asked me a question. "I'm fine." I don't bother to return the question. "A bowl please?" Instead of setting down the usual gold coin, he places a game bag on her counter. Greasy Sae pulls a red dish out from under her stool, and fills it with rabbit stew. I push my left-overs to her, and she fills his with whatever was left in mine.
I remember when we were little, when our parent's would sneak out with each other and leave their unsuspecting spouses home alone with the children. It's his father that tore my parents already shaky marriage apart. leaving me to support the family the way my mother had when she was a young girl. Before the games, before we had to rebuild this town from ashes.
Because I couldn't bring myself to hate Gale (in respect for the dead and respect for the dead only) I had no one left to blame except for his son. It makes sense, too. He knew about them. About my mom and his dad. He never said anything, though. He never stopped it while he could have, and didn't help by intimidating my father with tales of how "My dad and Katniss used to sneak off into the woods, every, single, day." He'd finish with a wink at my mother and a game bag at the foot of my father.
I can't deny he inherited his Dad's good looks. Great looks, actually. He could take the words out of the mouth of the whole village put together. Derrick sits next tom me on a pine stool carved by the town carpenter. He leans over and whispers in my eye. "What's with all the stares?" I shake my head, indicating that I didn't know. Of course, I do. He does as well. But he just flashes me another smile and shakes his head. "Must be my hair." Yeah, it's not. He's so full of himself. "I-uh, I have to go."
The leather pack sitting on the stool next to be holds herbs i have to deliver to my Grandmother's clinic. I pick it up and leave. My Grandmothers 'cottage' comes into view, and oddly colored smoke coughs through the chimney. I smile and shake my head. Classic Grandma. As I kick remaining ashes across the stone walkway towards her house, I notice something. There's a piece of paper sticking out of the side pocket. Derrick must've dropped it. The cracking leather used to belong to my mother, and it creaks as I open the pocket I've never had the reason to use.
The paper is yellowing and old, and I realize Derrick couldn't have dropped it there today. I unfold the thin yellow slip. "Dear G, Meet me by Our Tree. ~K" A crushing feeling in my chest is so intense I can't breathe. It wasn't technically Gale that caused these meetings. Everything I've thought about them wasn't, wasn't true. I drop my bag and walk off into the trees, not knowing where I wanted to go.