Panem High School
Chapter 1: Haymitch's realm
Look, you know, and I know, that this is an HS fic. And I know, that if you looked at my profile, that you would know, that I write High School fics kind of often, and that I enjoy them, and apparently, so do other people. So enjoy reading this one. Because there's gonna be some hardcore non-canonical pairings. Partly because I kind of dislike Peeta, and approve of Katniss and Gale. So take it however you will.
Katniss sighed. She didn't have an easy life.
She lived in a small house, and had to work to assist her family. But thanks to laws, she had to spend 7 hours a day learning things that she probably wouldn't need, or even want, EVER. The teachers asked why she didn't focus in class. Haymitch was especially hard on her. Damn that old drunkard!
She slid her patched bag onto her shoulder. "Mom! I'm going to school. I won't be home 'til midnight, so take care of Prim!"
Primrose Everdeen, her little sister, the girl who always tried to help, couldn't work yet (Not that Katniss would have let her), so she was home by two o'clock every day, while Katniss jogged to Sonic to take the night shift.
She peered out of the door. Storm clouds loomed over her head. She prayed that she would be lucky enough to get to school early.
Katniss Everdeen was not a lucky person.
As her old boots squished in the mud, the first drop plunked onto her head. Prim would giggle. Katniss cursed.
Breaking into a jog, she cleared a small grassy hill. She could see the familiar shape of Panem High School. If she could just sprint… Unfortunately, the rain had other ideas.
As wind burst onto her, and she felt her bag get firmly soaked, she muttered words more commonly associated with gangs than young ladies. Leaping over the dilapidated brick wall, she slammed into the door. Which happened to be solid metal.
She opened her mouth to curse (again) when a familiar voice laughed from behind her "If I could afford soap, I'd wash your mouth out, Catnip." She spun around suddenly.
"Sure, follow young girls around when nobody's looking. That's totally fine with me." She muttered.
Gale Hawthorne, her best friend and shift mate at Sonic, just smirked, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, hurried her to physical education (hell period), where Haymitch reined.
"God dammit, hussle! You think that'll stop an angry defensive tackle?" Haymitch roared at a new football lineman, his graying hair waving.
"Ah, P.E," Gale whispered in her ear, "where we learn how to piss Effie off." He was rewarded with a short bark of laughter from Katniss.
The drunk coach whirled around and hollered "No affectionate touching! Save the contact for violence."
Gale smirked. "So you'd rather I was punching somebody?"
Haymitch sighed. "Do me a favor, sweetheart," he groaned to Katniss, "punch him to shut his smart mouth."
He didn't bother to watch, for there were freshmen to scare. His boots stomped across the lovingly polished wooden floors as the slightly built boy cringed.
Katniss made a beeline for what she did best: archery. Why Panem High chose this sport of all the sports in the world to choose from, she didn't know. But with Gale at her side, they won the tournaments. Every time.
One of the high and mighty "Careers" (jocks to next level), Cato, shoved Katniss out of the way as he stormed to football. "Not wise to shove a girl with a bow, Cato." Haymitch grunted, a grin playing at his lips. Cato just sneered and began a running sprint at one of the defensive linemen. Katniss recognized him as Thresh, one of the kids of the farmers. Normally, any sensible lineman would just barely touch Cato and then topple so as to avoid being hurt. But Thresh met him head on and checked the blonde boy's momentum. The un-piercable shield and unstoppable spear crashed in an epic display, which ended in an equally epic, if not as dramatic, flip of the spear over the shield. Katniss shrugged and continued preparing for her shot. Haymitch had made the wise decision (most likely years ago when he was sober) to only supply blunt tips, as opposed to the broadheads used in tournaments. Squaring up to the target, the girl raised her bow. Nocking the arrow, she placed her middle and index finger above the arrow, and the rest below, her index resting against the arrow to steady it. Releasing pulling back string of the bow, her back muscles flexing, her expert eyes selected the target point. The head, she decided. The arrow flew, and punctured the target, exactly where she had aimed. Just like always. She was preparing for "The Hunger Games," a series of tournaments that involved all sorts of different sports, including archery, football, baseball, even exotic things like tomahawk throwing or mountain climbing, or even fencing. The Careers were so named because they spent inordinate amounts of time preparing to win the Hunger Games, so as to win the large reward. She continued her aiming and firing, while Gale stood next to her, making traps that would score enough points to give a Career a run for their money. "Hey Catnip!" he called to her, beckoning her over to his position. She sighed and marched over. "Yes?" she asked. He pointed to a spot on the gym floor. "Put your finger there. And trust me, you'll still have all your digits, though…" he stopped himself, and gestured for her to go ahead. She raised an eyebrow, but had long since learned that Gale the shake mixer/trapper was a persistent person. She crouched and poked the area. She could see the wire easily enough, and didn't see why Gale saw the need to demonstrate a simple trap to her. She disarmed the trap easily enough, and then smirked at Gale. That was when the second wire released. Wrapping around her ankles, she found that it was unfortunately effective. "And now," Gale concluded, a dangerous smile on his face, "I could do anything I wanted with you." She growled. He shrugged and released her. "Come on Catnip, let's see if you've made any progress on your bum aim." He grabbed her forearm and heaved her up. "Head." Katniss declared, taking an arrow and bow. Gale took a more powerful one, and squared up. "50 yards." Gale replied. The aimed, and Katniss noted how Gale got a faraway look when he was shooting, almost as if he could escape the room with his mind. He released the bowstring, just as Katniss did the same. Gale's arrow almost knocked over the target, but only hit the chin, while Katniss's made a dull thud as it smacked into the forehead. "Looks like you're not as bad as before!" Gale exclaimed in mock surprise. Of course, for the last two years, Katniss had consistently been more accurate than Gale. A bell split the air, and Haymitch gleefully roared "GET OUT!"