Today is the day I come home to her.
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
To her, today is the day I come home.
To her, I am nothing special.
To her, I am just a rich merchant boy with the misfortune to be reaped. To her, I am something to be pitied. To her, I am nobody.
To me, she is everything. She is the reason I didn't give up during the Games. She is the reason I didn't hand myself over to be slaughtered. The thought of seeing her again, even just from a distance, stolen glances when she isn't looking, makes me feel as if I can be human again. Feel things. Besides misery and remorse, that is.
Today I am coming home from the Games.
Today I am coming home to Katniss Everdeen.
...
Today Peeta Mellark is coming home.
I wonder what he is thinking about.
I wonder if he is thinking about me.
I shake the thought from my mind. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I think to myself. I have no time for petty emotions when I have to hunt and greet Peeta on the welcome home train with the rest of the district.
On the day of the reaping, when Peeta was called, my heart broke. Not in the typical, teenage heartbreak kind of way, it broke because I knew I was never going to thank him for his kindness. Which brought me to go run and get in line to see him before he left for the Capitol, but I chickened out when I realized that he probably doesn't even know me, probably doesn't remember the girl he threw burnt bread to four years ago. It would be weird, right?
Well ever since then, I haven't been able to get Peeta out of my mind. I think of the dandelion, and a fresh wave of guilt overtakes me. I think about his curly blonde hair, and what it would feel like to have my hands in it. I mentally slap myself for that one. But I still keep thinking about him. I watch the Games every night, practically glued to the screen, screaming for Peeta when I know a trap is coming, screaming at him to get food, get water, get safe.
Peeta Mellark is probably going to go for one of the beautiful merchant girls now, they're all fawning over him anyways. Buying stupid hair bows to put in their stupid blonde hair when his stupid train gets back from the stupid Capitol.
This whole Victor-coming-home-lets-get-dressed-up-and-act-dumb act that these merchant girls put on is ridiculous. It's not like they're exactly fresh meat. They've known each other since they were little kids. Peeta was always well liked among them, but now he is being coined as some sort of God.
It's really annoying.
...
The train starts to slow down, and simultaneously, my heart beats starts to speed up.
In a few minutes, I will see her.
I wonder what she thinks of it. She probably thinks it's stupid. She undoubtedly thinks it's stupid.
And that's why I love her.
When the wheels come screeching to a stop, I get up and cautiously make my way to the door. An attendant opens it for me, and I take a step into the blinding light.
My eyes start to adjust, and I can make out vague outlines and shapes, but I can't find the beautiful girl with the long braid. I can see people talking, not really paying attention to the Victor coming home, most people are just here because it's required. I wonder how many people would show up if it wasn't.
I see my family and make my way over to them. Rye pats me on the back, and my dad pulls me into a bear hug. My mother gives me a once-over and goes back to ignoring me.
Next I greet my friends, most of which give me a pat on the back or a hug, but I tune them out because that's when I spot her. She's wearing her normal hunting clothes and is holding a conversation with Gale. Her best friend. The one that everyone can plainly see is in love with her except her apparently. He gives her a friendly punch on the arm which she responds to by shoving him back. A pang of jealousy hits me, I wish she touched me.
She catches me staring at her and gives me a small smile, before continuing her conversation with Gale. Well, eye contact is a step up from not noticing your existence, right?
...
I am having a conversation with Gale about the deer we caught earlier, when the train arrives. Peeta steps out and hugs his family and his friends. I think he might give a slight glance in my general direction, so I give a small smile and try to go back to my conversation with Gale. Apparently my acting skills aren't up to par with what they are in my head, because Gale tells me to stop with the googly eyes.
"I am not eyeing him!" I hiss back at Gale, shoving him back.
Gale puts his hand's up in mock defeat and I slowly try to maneuver the conversation back to the deer unsuccessfully.
"Just go and say congratulations to him or something already, Catnip."
Gale knows me better than anyone, and he is the only one that knows about the bread, and my ties with Peeta Mellark, and of course he assumes my reasons to go see him are completely platonic, which they are, right? I resolutely decide that I in fact will not be going to see Peeta Mellark today.
"Well what am I supposed to say? Welcome home Peeta, good job for not dying."
I know that the best way to get Gale on a different topic is to use humor, so that it what I do. Unfortunately, Gale knows that I know this and he decides to play on it.
"Oh, definitely," Says Gale with a coy smile, "Peeta! Hey, Peeta!"
"Shut up Gale. Shut up. Shut up!"
But it's too late, Peeta has heard Gale's yell for him and turns around. Gale beckons him over, and I struggle to cover his mouth, to stop him from making me say welcome home, from making me say thank you. Unfortunately, Gale's about a foot taller and eighty pounds heavier than me, so making him stop is a lot more difficult than it sounds.
Peeta starts walking towards us, looking perplexed. Maybe it's due to the fact that, oh, I don't know, neither of us have ever had a conversation with each other in our entire lives.
Shit.
...
"Peeta! Hey Peeta!"
I hear a yell for my name behind me, and turn around. My name is coming out of Hawthorne's mouth, while Katniss jumps up and tries to cover his mouth. If I wasn't so confused, it would be comical. Tiny Katniss trying to sate giant Gale. Of course, she could probably do it given she had more time.
"Hi Peeta, well umm, welcome home, and err, congratulations on…not dying," The words fumble from her mouth and she looks utterly enraged at Gale for making her say this. Part of me hates myself for making her so uncomfortable, part of me is elated that she knows my name and is talking to me. Hell, she could have told me that she has an obsession with fried monkey and I would have been elated.
"Hi, Katniss. Umm, thanks. I guess…"
Smooth Peeta, real smooth. Now she's just going to think you're a cocky bastard. Way to go, Mellark.
"Thank you."
"What?" I have no idea what she means. Thank you? For what?
She turns around and walks away from me.
And that's when I make my decision. Women are crazy.
...
He knows my name. He knows my name. He knows my name.
I repeat this to myself, a sort of mantra, over the next few hours. I even manage to make it past the crippling sense of embarrassment over my choice of words. He probably thinks I'm crazy. He probably thinks Katniss Everdeen is crazy.
I realized about ten seconds too late that he wouldn't know what I was thanking him for. As I turned and walked away, I realized that he probably doesn't even remember all those years ago, he probably doesn't remember the poor seam girl he gave a loaf of bread to.
But I wanted to thank him for more than that now.
Thank you for the bread, I wanted to say.
Thank you for the hope, I wanted to say.
Thank you for the kindness, I wanted to say.
Thank you for coming home, I wanted to say.