"Meet me under the tree after school," I tell Prim. I tell her everyday, and she always rolls her eyes. I wait until I'm sure she's entered the Lower School before I head into the Upper School. I walk by myself to my science class and when I enter the classroom, I take my seat in the back. The boy who sits next to me is already there, skimming his science book. Normally, he greets me, but today he keeps his head down. Which is especially strange, because he's been out of school for over a week.
I don't make an effort to speak to him. When the bell rings, Mr. Abernathy enters the classroom and assigns us partner work, but he asks me to take the boy who sits beside me outside to fill him in on what he's missed. I do it, just so I don't have to do the partner work. When he gets outside, he slides down the wall to sit beside me. "You don't have to fill me in," he says quietly. "I read the chapters."
"Where were you?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
He shook his head. "Nowhere."
"Where were you?" I persist.
"It doesn't concern you, okay?" he snaps. He softens. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . it's really embarrassing."
"Tell me," I say.
He turned to look at me for the first time. "Peeta!" I say, concerned. Peeta Mellark's right eye is slightly bruised. If he'd been gone for a week and it was still bruised, I can't even imagine what happened to him. "What happened?"
"I fell, working in the bakery," he says, averting his eyes. I know when someone's lying, and Peeta Mellark is lying.
"What'd you really do?" I ask.
"I fell working in the bakery," he repeats.
"You're lying," I say. "What, do you think I'm going to judge you?"
He turns to look at me. "I'll tell you if you do something for me."
"Oh, God," I say.
"No, nothing like that," he laughs. "I'll tell you what really happened if you . . . if you go on a date with me tonight."
"What?" I nearly shout.
"Go on a date with me," he repeats. "You're not seeing anyone, are you?"
I shake my head. "Peeta, I . . ." I don't date. I'm not the dating girl. I'm independent, I take care of my mother and sister, I skate by in school . . . I don't date. "I don't date."
"There's a first time for everything," Peeta says. "And, anyway. If you want to know what really happened to me, I'll tell you – on the date." He grins, knowing my curiosity will get the better of me.
And it does.
"Fine," I repeat. "I'll go on a date with you tonight."