I stare questioningly at the two warm loaves of fresh, slightly burned bread in front of me. They look so out of place on the sodden earth beneath my dirty bare feet, my family could never afford bread like this. It's hearty, with raisins, various nuts and seeds throughout. I can smell the cinnamon wafting up from where they lie on the ground. I can't tear my eyes away from the bread and what it represents. Hope, in an otherwise dark, dreary, hopeless world. I shake my head to release myself from the daze I'm in, remembering how the bread got to be at my feet.
A boy, who looks to be about my age, is standing in the back door of the only bakery in District 12. I'm suddenly very aware of how ungrateful I must look, staring wordlessly down at the bread. I make eye contact with him and my hands fumble in the mud until they find the two loaves of bread and stuff them under my jacket with the wet side facing my dry undershirt in hopes that it with soak up some of the rain water that has seeped into them.
"Peeta" the boy says.
I remain quiet for a moment, dumbfounded. Too many thoughts going through my head at once for me to form a proper response. I nod. Hoping it will buy me some time to clear my head once more. Why would a boy that I've never once spoken to, do such a thing for me? Particularly a boy that belongs to a higher social class than me. We were in the same class in school but he had his merchant class friends and I had none. I'm a loner. Undesirable. A nobody. Why take a beating to burn bread to give to a starving Seam girl? In District 12, more specifically the Seam, we fend for ourselves, no one will help us.
"Peeta," I think, "like the bread."
"Well, yes" an awkward smile plays across his lips, "except its spelled with two 'e's rather than an 'I'."
My cheeks burn viciously, I didn't realize I said that out loud.
"I'm Katniss." I say, trying to regain some sort of composure.
"I know" he grins.
My face grows redder. Has he really paid attention to me? I can't say that I've paid him any mind. The thought of a boy thinking about me makes my stomach sick, at least I think its sick, it's a weird, unfamiliar feeling, but I definitely don't like it.
"Well. I'd better get back in. My mother…" he trails off.
I nod as he turns back to open the door, hesitate, and clear my throat quickly before he can disappear.
"Thank you Peeta" I say with a shy smile. The last time I really smiled was before my father died three months ago.
He returns the smile and ducks inside.
"Katniss?"
"Hmmm?" I smile up at him, keeping my eyes closed and my head on his lap. He's undone my braid and had been twirling it with his large fingers for about an hour.
The sun is high in the sky, I can tell that its around noon without opening my eyes. Its about time to start heading back home to prepare for the Reaping, which begins at two.
"We'd better get going baby." He groans reluctantly.
I open my eyes and they lock onto his. He has the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. Light blue around the edges fading to a sort of navy in the middle. His eyes are gentle, loving, and kind. A stray lock of curly blond hair has fallen in front of them, as I reach up to brush it away, he captures my small hand in his and brushes his lips against my palm before releasing it to complete its task.
He flashes me an adoring smile and lifts my head off of his thigh so that he can stand, and offers me his hand, which I graciously accept. Lying on one of the larger rocks that surrounds our lake all morning has done nothing good for my back.
We take a moment to pack up the leftovers from this morning's breakfast, half a loaf of fresh bread, and a few strawberries that I picked on the way to the lake. Then he takes my hand and we make the mile-long journey to the fence that surrounds District 12 in comfortable silence. Peeta knows that I'm anxious about this reaping more so than the others, except perhaps my first, so he doesn't attempt to make conversation. He just holds my hand tight, and I cling to his like the lifeline that it is. This Reaping will be our last. The odd have been in our favor thus far, but my mind is not at ease. Who will take care of my family if I am reaped? Or Prim? I would volunteer for her in a heartbeat. And then I would be gone forever. I've been the sole provider for my family of three since my father died. Even hunting every day after school, we barely scraped by. Sure, if I was killed, my best friend Gale would do what he could for my mother and Prim. But he works in the mines Monday through Friday, and saves Saturday for his bride to be. He only hunts on Sundays an what with five people to support on his own, that alone is too much for one person to handle. I couldn't ask him to take on two more.
We reach the fence and slide under it undetected. Its supposed to be electrified 24 hours a day but in the poorest district in Panem, we're ;ucky to get an hour or two a day.
Peeta walks me to my front door and leans in for a kiss. I'm always too happy to oblige, regardless of my emotional state. He wraps his arm around my waist, pressed his full lips to my own, and kisses me sweetly. I feel an all too familiar hunger threatening to take control. I've been suppressing it for about a year with good results so far. Depending on the outcome of the Reaping, I could be dead in a matter of days. So I decide to indulge. I part my lips slightly and run my tongue along his bottom lip, begging for permission to enter. I feel his whole body tense and he pulls my flush against him. My thighs tremble as his growing bulge presses into my belly, he's much taller than I am. he lets my tongue in and I explore his mouth, our tongues dance and struggle to dominate each other. Just as I get a good hold on his firm butt, the door opens. Prim. The poor girl looks like she's seen a ghost.
My checks burn painfully. I release Peeta and smooth my shirt out in front of me awkwardly.
"Hi Peeta" Prim giggles.
"Hey Prim," he beams back at her. "Right, well I should be going. I'll see you two beautiful ladies for dinner after the Reaping." He kisses Prim's hand, smiles at me, then disappears around the corner.
Prim raises an eyebrow at me.
"Get inside Little Duck," I wave her through the door and follow after her.
Its exactly two o'clock according to the big clock in the middle of the square, when an excessively bubbly Effie Trinket bounces onto the temporary stage in front of the Justice Building.
"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" she says in her very affected Capitol accent.
Ugh.
The crowd that has gathered in the square responds with a less that enthusiastic applause, as is expected of us. Though this is not a happy occasion at all. Two children will be chosen in the next half hour to be prepared for an Arena in which they will fight to the death against twenty-two other tributes from the eleven other districts. All for the entertainment of the citizens of the Capitol. Sadistic.
While I stand in a roped off section in the middle of the square with every other girl between the ages of twelve to eighteen, I try to take my mind off of the event by coming up with very unique ways that one could inflict pain upon a very deserving President Snow, ruler of Panem. What's the point in listening anyway? It's the same thing every year. The mayor reading a very dull history of Panem, and the Dark Days from which the Hunger Games were born, and-
"Katniss Everdeen!"
That's the point in listening.
Please review! This is my very first fanfic so I'm excited to hear what you think of it. I'll only be continuing the story if people like it, if not I'll scrap it and work on something else!
-Becca