"C'mon Gale, we have to go right by it anyway, I just want to take a quick look!" he groans, but this isn't a battle he's going to win and he knows it.
Gale and I have been best friends since I was 12 but this is the first time we've ever traveled anywhere together. The trip was his idea; he's leaving to go work in the oil sands next week and it'll be months before we see each other again. So when he suggested a weekend in Niagara Falls I jumped at the chance. I've never been to the falls before.
"Fine," he huffs. "Five minutes and then we move on." But he almost cracks a smile as I grab his arm and detour, directing us towards the four stories of glass that make up the facade of Casino Niagara. I've never been in a casino before, never seen one except in the movies, and I'm curious.
Stepping through the massive doors is like stepping into an alternate reality. It's loud. It's bright. It's crowded. It's so not my scene.
It's not Gale's scene either, and he looks bewildered. Almost overwhelmed. "Damn," he mumbles. "This is nuts." We wander a little, there are thousands of gaming machines, each one flashier than the one before.
"Seen enough?" I ask. This place isn't what I was expecting, it's nothing like the James Bond movies. But Gale is sauntering wide-eyed towards a machine with characters from his favourite television show emblazoned on it, and I can't help but smile. "Here." I pull out a quarter from my pocket, and his face lights up like a kid in a candy store.
"You've gotta play one too, Catnip," he insists, so I stand in front of the next machine. "On the count of three."
There's a giant button instead of an arm to pull, which is kind of a let down. But on three we both smack the buttons on the machine. When mine stops I haven't a clue whether I've won or not. It's very confusing.
Gale's machine is all flashing lights and music and clanking, but no coins pour from the bottom so I assume we're both losers. "Oh my God," he breathes, barely audible over the machine's racket. I'm already walking away, but he grabs my arm roughly. "I won!"
He's smiling, actually smiling, and it makes me smile too though I'm confused. There's still no money coming out of the machine. When I point that out he snickers. "It's all credits now, this isn't Casino Royale." With a thick finger he points out on the electronic display that he has 100 credits. That works out to be twenty-five bucks.
"Holy shit, that's amazing! Ice cream is on you!" He laughs, and wraps an arm around me. There's a button to cash out the credits, but instead of reaching for it he pushes the play button again.
And again he wins. Another 100 credits are added to his tally.
"I can't go now, not when I'm up like this! I'm going to play a little."
I shrug. "Fine, I'm going to look around then. Ten more minutes?" He nods, but he's not even facing me any more, pressing the button on his machine with fervor.
The casino is massive, I meander through an army of electronic machines before finding a quieter section, where people play cards. I glance around, but there's really nothing interesting here. The roulette tables, however, are fascinating. Try as I might I can't understand the reasoning behind the game, nor why people bet the way they do. I get so lost in trying to figure it out that a half hour passes without my realizing.
I practically bolt back to where I left Gale, making a handful of wrong turns along the way, fully expecting him to be cranky that I was gone so long. But he's still sitting at the same machine, watching the electronic 'wheels' spin unblinking. I glance at the little corner display.
1,298 credits.
"Fuck Gale, that's more than three hundred dollars!" He turns and nods at me, an odd look in his eyes. "Come on, get your quarters and let's go! We've been in here almost an hour and that's more than enough for me."
"Catnip," he whines. Whines? Gale is not a whiner, what the hell. "This machine is hot, I can't go!"
"There's no such thing as a hot machine, Gale. Cash out, chop chop, I'll help you spend your winnings. Time's a-wasting!"
"Why don't you go on up to the falls without me, I'm just going to finish here and then I'll catch up. We'll do Clifton Hill together." I scowl at him, but he barely notices, his attention split between me at the flashing machine.
"Come on Gale, this is stupid, you could be playing video games at home instead of wasting time on our trip!" At that his face hardens.
"It's my vacation too, and you're not the one who is going to be spending the next six months in the middle of nowhere working on a rig. So fucking excuse me if I want to have a little fun, Katniss." He hisses out my name and I recoil.
"Fine, have your fun, Gale. Maybe I'll see you around." I turn on my heel and stomp away, expecting that he'll chase after me.
But he doesn't.
And I find myself standing on the main road of a strange city 6 hours away from home, all alone.
I can hear the falls, though, so I follow the sound. It isn't very far until I'm standing on a walkway, looking down into the most stunning sight I have ever seen. Pictures simply don't do it justice. Leaning against the iron railing, looking down into an unfathomably huge rush of water; the noise of it, the slight vibration, the mist that peppers my face. It's the absolute definition of awe.
I wander along the walkway by the river. From every angle the falls are incredible. It's when I'm snapping a few pictures on my phone to send to Prim that I notice it. An easel, angled in such a way so as to keep the ever present mist from hitting the painted side.
Someone is painting the falls. And though I'm standing on the precipice of the real deal I cannot take my eyes off the artwork. I creep closer, as if summoned. It's extraordinary.
I'm not sure how long I stand there, gaping, before there's a quiet cough behind me. I spin, almost smacking a stranger with my braid. His paint-stained hands fly out to steady me, hovering close enough to my arms that I can feel their heat.
"I'm sorry," I gasp, startled and embarrassed to have been caught gawking at what it obviously his work.
"It's okay," he laughs, and it's deep and resonant, I swear I can feel it in my own chest. "I don't mind if you look."
It takes a moment for my heart to settle, when it does I lift my eyes from the stranger's broad chest to his face. He's grinning at me, but it's a kind smile that crinkles the corners of his bright blue eyes. "Peeta," he says, holding his hand out towards me and I stare at him blankly. After a moment his grin gets impossibly wider. "Okay, let's try this again. Hi, my name is Peeta, and you are?" He trails off and I can feel heat rising in my cheeks.
"Katniss," I tell him, and shake his paint spattered hand. It's huge and so warm, encompassing mine completely.
"Are you from around here, Katniss," he asks, and the sound of my name rolling off his tongue is oddly erotic. I don't trust my voice, so I simply shake my head. "Me neither," he continues, "But my brother lives nearby and I like to come out here to paint. Uh, obviously, I guess." He rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, and it's endearing.
"This is my first visit," I admit, though I'm certainly not one to share that kind of information with a stranger. But Peeta seems harmless enough. Sweet, even.
"Really? What have you done here so far?"
I sigh. "Uh, nothing really, not yet anyway. Well, I mean, I've seen the falls. I came with a friend, but he's been at the casino all day." I glance at my phone, again, but there are still no messages.
"Oh," he says, and his brow furrows a little. "I take it the casino wasn't on your itinerary?" I laugh, despite myself.
"Actually I was the one who wanted to see it. I thought it'd be like in the movies."
"But it's not," Peeta chimes in, and I shake my head, still smiling. "What else were you planning on seeing?"
At my shrug Peeta launches into a detailed description of all of the things I should do while I'm here, though I don't listen all that attentively. Instead, I find myself fixated on his eyelashes, light golden in the warm afternoon sun that bathes his face, and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.
He's not exceptionally handsome, but he's cute, and fit, and the way his arms pull and flex as he gestures is doing strange things to my belly. I snap out of my reverie and try to pay attention, but the tingles don't dissipate. If anything, they grow stronger.
We move back to the railing over the falls, and he tells me more about the area, pointing out the landmarks we can see. The mist freckles his golden waves with glittering droplets, makes the ends curve up, and I have to clasp my hands together to quell the urge to run my fingers through the damp curls.
Eventually we turn our attention to the people wandering the area. Peeta describes each of the tourists around us in ways that are funny without ever veering into cruel. I laugh more in a couple of hours chatting with Peeta than I have in the past year. And the more we chat, the more attracted I am to him.
"Listen," he says, and there's a shy timbre to his voice. "I was heading to the Butterfly Conservatory, to sketch. It's a pretty cool place, I think you'd like it. Do you want to come with me?"
And though I've never once in my life been spontaneous I find myself nodding shyly at him. "I need to check in with my friend though."
"Sure," Peeta says with an easy smile. "I'll tuck this stuff into my car, and then walk you to the casino.
The walk isn't very long, but we chat the whole way. He's remarkably easy to talk to. He asks me where I'm from and I chuckle. "Panem. It's a pretty small town, you've probably never heard of it." My sister and I moved there a few years ago with our mother, after our father's death.
He stops abruptly, staring at me incredulously. "You're kidding," he says, and I shake my head, bewildered. "I'm from Panem too," he says. "My family owns the bakery on Main." It's my turn to stare.
"No way," I breathe. "Mellark's, right?" It's a fancy little place, I could never afford to shop there but I've looked through the windows more than once.
"Wow," he says softly. "I can't believe we've never met before."
"Well, we live in the Seam, I don't get into the town all that often," I admit. The Seam is on the outskirts of Panem, rural and fairly poor, but our little home there is nice enough.
"Still," he says, and then he laughs. "I can't believe I'm meeting you in a city six hours from home! Talk about luck!"
"Luck?"
"Well, yeah," he says, and that shy smile is back. "Here I was thinking damn, I've met the prettiest girl in the world but after today I might not see her again. And then it turns out she's practically my neighbour." He's flirting with me.
And I like it.
"I guess the odds were in our favour," I murmur, and his smile gets even larger.
"I guess they were." We start walking again, and our hands find each other as we do, fingers entwined.
Gale is still at the same machine when we get back to the casino. "Catnip!" he shouts over the din as we approach. I can see the counter of credits is even higher than when I left hours ago. "This place is incredible! It's the luckiest place in the world!"
I glance up at Peeta and smile. "I couldn't agree more."