Car trouble really wasn't as common as people thought. It was an excuse for tardiness that got out of hand and now people were under the impression it was a given, a common occurrence, that everyone experienced it at some point. This was a lie, Madge knew that well. She'd worked in her uncle Haymitch's repair shop every summer since she could remember and there wasn't much that would render a car totally useless almost instantly. That's why Madge knew, without even having to check, that she was screwed. And not because her trusty jeep was falling apart, going to explode or had irreparable damage. She was simply out of gas. And the nearest station was in town. And she had no cash. And her phone was still in Peeta's where she'd left it on charge. And she was about 16 miles from town. And it was absolutely chucking it down. Even if she hadn't run out of gas she'd have had to pull over soon. Shit.

She was laying in the back seat, her jacket under her head, her sock clad feet against the window where she tapped along to the song currently blasting from her radio. It was quite nice really, being in the middle of nowhere, with Queen playing so loud her car was vibrating.

Sure she wanted to get home, shed the cheerleader uniform and leave it shed until she had to wear it again next week. She wasn't one of those girls who wore it to school every day for its aesthetic value. Yes, she didn't mind the second looks she got when wearing it but she liked to think, if someone were to be interested in her, it would be because they liked her for more than how her butt looked in the shorts or skirt and not just because she could do the splits. She loved being a cheerleader, it was fun and it kept her fit, most of her friends were on the squad but she only tried out in the first place because her dad wanted her to. She had no idea they'd pick her because she'd done ballet as a child and kept the flexibility.

She's wailing Bon Jovi's 'Living on a Prayer' when she spots a pair of head lights in the rear view mirror. She doesn't know whether she should flag them down or not. It's not the safest thing to do but neither is spending the night in an old jeep. She's still debating it when the pickup passes and she shrugs to herself, returning to her one woman show. She doesn't notice the truck back up until its lights are filling her windscreen and making the interior of her jeep a bright red.

Just to be safe she turns off the radio and presses the lock button on her key again, noting that if someone really wanted to get in, it wouldn't be all that hard. She starts to get anxious when a large figure steps out of the pickup, very large. Definitely male, taller than her dad and that's tall, especially compared to her unimpressive 5'4.

Staying hidden behind the passenger seat, she watches them jog over, head ducked in the heavy downpour. There's a knock on her window but she still can't see who it is that might be a serial killer. They knock again and she can't help wincing. It's obvious someone is in the car, they're not just going to leave. Climbing in to the front rather clumsily, with pins and needles from staying still so long, she rolls down the window. Just a crack and her door is already drenched

"What happened?!" he shouts over the thrumming of the rain

"I ran out of gas" she calls back

"Wait, who are you?" the voice asks, confusion and suspicion obvious in his tone

"Who are you?" she retorts, narrowing her eyes at the figure she can't see in the rain and dark. He moves away, going to the front of her vehicle and then returning

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else. I didn't get a look at your license plate"

"So you wouldn't have stopped otherwise?"

"Probably not, you could've been a psycho"

"What makes you think I'm not?" she quips, realizing just a bit late it was a dumb thing to say

"You were hiding from me. Psychos don't do that. Plus the fact you insist on us yelling through a little gap in your window"

"Well how do I know you're not a psycho?"

"Is it bad that I don't have an answer?"

"Probably" she laughs, unwinding the window a little more. The car's already soaked "you" she squeaks, finally getting a look at the strangers face

"You" he grins back. She doesn't know his name, well not all of it. He's a football player, the cornerback for Seam and District High School the next town over. He's the enemy basically. Merchant High and Seam and District are rivals in everything sport related. The students don't mix unless it's to fight, mainly it can be attributed to alcohol consumption after a game. His name is Hawthorne, at least that's the surname printed on his jersey. They've never spoken, until now but there's always been this … tension. Catching each other's gaze, meaningful looks, grazing of shoulders, even a wink once.

He's cute, maybe cute isn't the right word, neither is hot. He's tall, dark and handsome but so much more than that. Maybe it's just the weird interactions with him but she just finds him so appealing. He's mysterious and brooding and apparently that does it for her.

"Hawthorne"

"Blondie" his smile widens and she opens the door. He drips, leaving puddles on the carpet and seat but it's hardly any worse than having the window open had been "run out of gas huh?"

"Yeah"

"Have you called someone?"

"Left my phone at a friends'"

"You were just going to stay here?"

"What other option did I have?"

"It's dangerous. A girl like you, out here on her own at night"

"Like I said, what other option did I have? Besides, you're not a psycho, no harm done"

"We never established whether I was or wasn't a psycho"

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt" she smiles "what are you doing out here?"

"Just on my way home from work" she nods "so, you want a ride in to town for gas?"

"Ah no thanks. I sort of left my purse behind too. I left in a hurry"

"Something wrong?"

"No, no. He uh- well" Madge frowns. It's not the first time she's had to sneak out of Peeta's after his mother has come home early but she normally has time to grab more than her keys and the assignment they'd been working on

"Boy trouble?" she laughs

"No, at least not that kind"

"Things are all good with your boyfriend then?" Madge grins at his obviousness and he has the good grace to laugh at himself

"Why don't you just ask?"

"Alright, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No. No I don't have a boyfriend"

"Not one of those blonde boys you're always with? The short one with curly hair? Or the quarterback?"

"Peeta and Cato" she smiles "I'm not with either of them"

"They walk you off the pitch after every game"

"We're friends"

"Are you sure?"

"You're right" she sighs dramatically "you caught me. I'm with Cato Monday through Friday and then Peeta gets me on weekends" she jokes

"That's not funny"

"Peeta has a scary big crush on a girl, from Seam and District, actually. And Cato is like my big brother"

"Who does cherub know from Seam and District?"

"Now that would be telling. And cherub?"

"It's what we nicknamed him, face of an angel but he tackles like an angry bear"

"I think he'd like that, I'll have to tell him" she laughs

"Don't go getting me in trouble. I need your friends to like me"

"Oh yeah, why's that?" she laughs, he shrugs

"Good guy points"

"I see. And what do they get you?" she pushes

"Well that would depend on how good I am … and how hot you are for me"

"What makes you think I'm any kind of hot for you?" she smirks

"Well I hope so, or this is just going to be awfully one sided" he murmurs, leaning in to her across the centre console.

There's a lot of pushing for dominance. Each time someone hardens the kiss or nibbles a little, gets rough with their tongue, the other pushes back. Eventually they're both grunting, groaning, panting and pulling at each other

"Well" she whispers against his lips and they smile, pressing their foreheads together

"You know when you crave something and you get it and you feel satiated, like you won't need anything else now"

"Deep" she teases and he bites her bottom lip

"I meant" he growls seductively "like if you really fancy pizza" they both laugh "and then you feel like you could skip every meal for the rest of the day. I don't feel like that, I feel like I could never get enough pizza"

"We've made out once and you've already nicknamed me pizza" she giggles at him earning another kiss

"Pizza is awesome, you should be flattered" he chuckles

"I think it depends on whether or not you're going to get a hankering for anything other than pizza"

"I haven't so far … and it's been a while"

"How long?"

"Long"

"But how long?" she pushes teasingly

"It was about a year ago, my first game as captain. You were quite obviously new to your squad, didn't know the routines that well and you just kind of gave up and started flipping around everyone. Stole the show"

"Ah the good ol' days" she laughs

"Yeah, it was about a year ago I decided I'd live off pizza".