This isn't what was supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to actually start talking to him, just give him a simple thanks. Thanks for saving my life with some burnt bread that was absolutely delicious and warm and fed us for a couple of days. Thanks for giving me the hope to start remembering what my father taught me about in the woods. Thanks for making me realize that there is food all around us; we just have to know how to use it. That's all it was supposed to be.

Instead, I'm actually sitting with him, Peeta, at the lunch table. He came and asked to sit with Madge and me after I had thanked him a couple of mornings after he had thrown me the bread. How could I deny him that when he gave me so much more? Madge looked at me in surprise, having no idea what happened, why I would let anyone, let alone Peeta, sit with us. It had only ever been the two of us for a long time now. I look over at where his friends are, watching him, laughing as to why he would be with us, me more specifically. I'm the odd girl who doesn't talk to anybody except Madge, whose father died in the mines not that long ago. I'm the girl who has grown skinner and weaker for the last few months because of it. Why would their popular, good-looking, townie friend want to sit with me?

"So, Peeta, what brings you over to our little corner of the world?" Madge asks, looking at him and then me, not sure where else to start.

He picks up his sandwich that no doubt his mother made for him this morning and before he takes a bite, answers, "I was hoping I would get to talk to Katniss a little bit."

She looks at me with wide blue eyes. "Oh, I didn't realize you knew her."

I look up at Madge, then Peeta, then back down at my little bit of dandelion salad with nuts. I know there is a rabbit at home, being made into a stew by my mother as I sit here. Peeta clears his throat, finishing his mouthful, "That's the problem, I don't know her much."

I can't not look into those clear blue eyes and I also can't not notice the bruise across his face. No doubt from his mother and no doubt my fault. He doesn't even seem to care though, as if it happens enough to not be bothered by it. "What do you want to know?"

I surprise everyone, including myself, when I asked such a little question, but it is full of so much meaning. At least I think it is more so for Peeta. I see Madge smile from the corner of my eye. Peeta's face transforms into lightness as a wide smile spreads across his face as well. I can't help but smile as well.

That first day we sat together at lunch changed everything for me. Not just that I could now include Peeta into my tiny circle of people that I actually talked to, but because I really liked him. He was just nicer than any guy I had ever known. Well, with the exception of my father of course. I don't know that anyone will ever be able to top my father, ever. The first few weeks of lunches, Peeta just asked me simple, almost dumb questions, but that didn't make them any less fun to answer. I looked forward to going to school and now that my mother had been revived by food in the house, everyone was in a better mood. That was all Peeta's doing, just with the bread.

Madge insisted that I start asking questions back, like why Peeta was suddenly so interested in me. Figures she'd want to know that, though I already knew why. I thanked him; I opened the door for it. I did tell Madge about the bread, but she thinks there's more to the story. She thinks he has a crush on me, has had one on me forever. I just laugh her off and walk out of the bathroom as we head to lunch. Peeta is waiting for us at the table that we have claimed as our own. His friends are still watching, wondering, but he has yet to go back to them.

The smile that comes to my lips is easy now, I don't force anything with him around, and it's all natural; almost as natural as hunting with Gale, who I ran into just two weeks ago. I know Peeta is curious about that, but he has yet to bring it up. I put my lunchbox down, open it up to discover some cooked squirrel with potatoes. Not a whole lot though, as my mother makes sure we eat well before school and there's more waiting for us at home. Plus, Peeta tends to being extra treats with him now. I love the chocolate chip cookies, at least so far.

"So, what do we have today?" He asks, leaning over to peek in.

I pull out my lunch and his eyebrows go up. "What is that?"

"Squirrel. When I get better, I'll bring you some. Maybe we can trade, my father used to." I tell him as I take a bite. Madge shakes her head but says nothing. I'm sure in her mind; a trade of clothing is what Peeta would like best. Even though we're only twelve, Madge has no shortage of imagination as to what Peeta actually wants from me. She's been punched in the arm a few times already in the last week because of it.

"I remember. You're father was a really good shot. Do you think you'll be as good as he was?" Peeta asks innocently, digging into his own lunch of hearty bread and cheese.

I swallow my food, "I sure hope so. I've brought some of the squirrels and rabbits to the Hob already and they seem fine with them."

"You go to the Hob by yourself?" Peeta asks me, genuine concern in his voice. Again, I think this is something his family probably has never had to do. Then again, that's not true because I've seen his father there, trading for spices. I just don't think Peeta has been there.

"Well, Gale was with me the last time. We almost had a doe too, but it got scared off by something." I inform him, taking in some more of my lunch. When I look at him, his eyes are wide, watching me. "What?"

"Why do you hang out with him?" Peeta questions, picking at his food.

I shrug, "I know his dad died the same day mine did, but actually we just ran into each other in the woods a few weeks ago. He's trying to teach me how to use snares for the ground animals and I've shown him how to shoot a little. We're trying to learn from each other, make sure our families have enough food."

"Do you like him?" Madge decides to throw herself in the conversation.

I shoot her a dirty look but she just shrugs, putting food into her mouth. Peeta carefully repeats the question, "Do you? Like Gale?"

Looking at Peeta, I see a little bit of hurt in those beautiful blue eyes. I shake my head, "I don't think of him like that. He's kind of like a big brother, not that I've ever had one, but I imagine that's what it'd be like."

"Well, at least he's teaching you something and not taking any chance he gets to jump and wrestle you like mine do." Peeta replies, chuckling at himself. We all laugh along with him.

"Do your brothers really do that?" Madge asks her eyes light with happiness.

Peeta only nods, and then adds, "They claim it's to make sure I'm ready for when it's my turn to wrestle next year. I think they're full of it myself."

I burst out laughing that time and he looks at me and smiles. I have to calm myself down before I apologize.

"Don't be sorry, I like to hear you laughing." He tells me, a blush coming into his cheeks. I look down at my food quickly, feeling the heat rise in my face as well. I peek over at him and he's nervously picking at his roll.

Madge clears her throat, "Well, I'm going to go to class a little early, I have to ask Mrs. Colm something."

I look up at her, pleading with my eyes for her not to leave me alone with Peeta. She just smiles and waves good-bye to the both of us. Before she hits the door though, she turns back and winks at me. If I could, I would be throwing a knife at her right now. Both Peeta and I stay quiet for a moment longer before I look up at him. His blush is still there, but fading a little. My own cheeks still feel quite warm.

"I'm sorry, that probably made you feel uncomfortable." He says to me and then shoves some food into his mouth. I chuckle a little at him with that action and he just looks at me and smiles with a full mouth. He swallows a little more than he should and I have to hit him on the back to keep him from gagging too much.

I just shake my head at him, "Don't go killing yourself just to hear me laugh, Peeta."

He smiles anyway, his face now bright red from the coughing. He drinks some of the water in front of him and looks directly in my eyes. "What I said didn't bother you?"

I look around for a moment, trying to figure out if I should be honest or not. "Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean that you have to keep your mouth shut."

He nods, "Okay, then I have another question for you."

I finish off the last bit of my lunch before he hands me a shortbread cookie, today's treat. "Okay, shoot"

"Do you like me?" My eyes go directly to his, gray meeting up with blue. I feel the heat rise in my face again but can't break the contact.

I know my mouth is hanging open stupidly when I remember to clamp it shut. He gives me a shy, nervous smile and bites into his cookie while he waits. I swallow, though my mouth is dry. Finally breaking eye contact with him, I look down at my own cookie, noticing the small indent of a flower in it. My voice is low and small when I answer. "Yes."

There's no hiding the excitement in his voice just from my answer. "Really? Not like a brother though, right?"

I have to look at him and I giggle, "No, not like a brother. I'm pretty sure my brother wouldn't be able to bake such good cookies."

"Well, my dad made them, but I did the design." He tells me, all proud of himself.

"Why do you want to know if I like you? I mean, we sit together, so I must like you a little, right?" I ask him in return, even though I'm pretty sure I know the answer.

"Well, yeah, I know, but, well….would you mind if I told you something else?" He asks me, his voice getting quiet again.

I just watch him as the blush creeps back up his cheeks, from his neck. I never noticed how long his eyelashes were or how light they are. Why am I noticing this now? I feel like he's been quiet too long. "Peeta, are you going to ask me or not?"

He looks up at me as if startled. He shakes his blond head, curls waving back and forth. "Yea, sorry."

He goes quiet for another minute or so and I begin to tap my fingers on the table. He shakes himself again, "Sorry, yea. Okay, I can do this." He says more to himself than me I'm sure.

"Peeta, what is it? You're being a little weird and you're the normal one of this group." I remind him and he smiles. Apparently that's all he needed before the rest jumbles out of his mouth.

"Right. Well, if you like me and it's not in a brotherly way, would you mind if I told you that I liked you too? That I've liked you for a long time?" The words rush out of his mouth and I have to replay what he just said to understand it.

I shake my head, "What do you mean, a long time?"

His smile is a shy one, an embarrassed one, a cute one. "Well, since I first heard you sing."

I shake my head again, "When was that? I don't sing, except to Prim."

"Well, it was a long time ago. Like a looong time ago." He exaggerates using his hands as well. I just smile and nod for him to continue. "Like, the day we started school."

"This year? I didn't sing this year, I haven't sung in school since…." Then I know what he's talking about. "You mean kindergarten? That long ago?"

He just nods his blond head, eyes twinkling with delight that he didn't have to finish it for me. It's not to say that I've never noticed Peeta before the bread, I do look, and now I'm starting to piece together why he would look away if I had caught him staring. Much to my dismay, I now know that Madge wasn't kidding when she said forever. He puts his hand over mine carefully, probably to see if I'll pull away. When I don't, his smile gets wider, more confident. "I'm pretty sure I've been in love with you since then."

My jaw drops again, "Love? Peeta, love is a really strong word to use. I mean, I've only ever said it to my family, ever."

He just nods again, "That's fine. I don't expect you to love me back or anything. Actually, I was half expecting you to get up and walk away, maybe hit me in the process."

How does he do this? I giggle at him again and squeeze his hand back. "I can if you want me to. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I couldn't just sit here with you anymore and not tell you. I swear my brothers were about ready to pummel me if I didn't say something soon. They keep making fun of me for it." He tells me, his fingers playing with mine. I'm surprised at myself for letting him continue to touch me, but it really isn't bothering me at all. In fact, it feels kind of nice, comforting.

"I think I'm kind of glad I don't have a big brother after all." I joke with him. Then the bell rings, giving us five more minutes to clear out of the lunch room before our next class starts up. I look down at our hands intertwined, smiling. "So what does this mean?"

"Well, I was hoping it would mean that you would be my girl-friend." He replies, his other hand tracing small designs onto mine.

I nod but then in a warning tone, tell him, "You better talk to my mother then."