A/N: I've been working on this little number for a while now. It's actually an adaptation of something I had written and I made adjustments so that it would fit THG. For those of you who are fans of my other story, Dandelions and Fire, fear not: I have not abandoned the story. I've been working graveyard shifts and I haven't quite perfected it yet lol. Expect an update in the next few days though. Review if you want another chapter of this story. You know the deal. Review=update. Enjoy!

Summary: For three years, Katniss has been able to avoid the only boy she every really loved. An accident not only tore them apart, but took her father along with it. When a string of events draws them back together, she struggles to maintain the comfortable life she has made for herself without him. She will soon learn the difference between being a human and being a hero and what it means to be both.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. They are a sick idea invented by the Capitol…and Suzanne Collins.

Chapter 1 – Solitude

Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep. The infernal sound continues until I slam my fist onto the damn clock. I thought I had thrown the stupid thing away yesterday, but it seems my beloved sister or drunken uncle must have put it back while I slept. It's just a reminder that I have to get up and return to the mandatory hell-hole the government likes to call high school. I was never one for school. I only had one friend. My grades were only enough for me to pass – though I think teachers passed me just so they wouldn't have to deal with me the following year. I didn't play sports or wasn't part of a club. I didn't go to dances and I was in detention about half the year.

Last year I had asked my uncle if I could be home schooled, but he said that idea was out of the question. He said my mom was just getting back on her feet and she didn't need me hanging around at home to worry about. Not like she did anyway. After my dad died, she could barely look at me because I looked too much like him. I had his grey eyes and dark hair. I even sang like him. Every time she looked at me, she saw him. She was reminded that he was gone and he wasn't coming back. I was as close to him as she was going to get and it killed her from the inside out.

That's when Uncle Haymitch came to stay with us. Mom got sick and practically was dead to the world. She couldn't take care of us, plain and simple. Child Protective Services came knocking and warned her that if she didn't get her act together or someone capable didn't come to pick up the pieces, they would take us from her. Sometimes, I wish they had. I wish they would have taken us away from her and this stupid place. But if they did, they would have separated us. That I wouldn't let happen. Prim was all I had left. Uncle Haymitch tried his best – for a while – but he had his own problems. So when CPS came knocking, we all put our clean clothes on and pretended to be ok. I would just pray they didn't see the cracks in our façade.

I heaved myself out of bed and made my way down the hall to the bathroom. I could see Prim's blue eyes watching me as I pass her room. "We're going to be late," she says softly.

"No we won't," I sigh. "You always set that thing fifteen minutes ahead."

"But the bus…"

"We'll walk if we have to," I interrupt. "I don't want to be stuck in a smelly bus with those stupid people anyway."

Prim frowns and lets out a sigh as she walks past me. She's probably off to see if our uncle's got out of bed and had the breakfast she prepared for him. She always has breakfast prepared. That used to be my job. I'd get up early and make sure that Prim had a warm meal in her stomach before we went to school, but somewhere along the road she took that duty over. She took over a lot of things when I got tired of doing them. Don't get me wrong, I'm not lazy or tell her what to do. I just feel…tired. Tired of being the adult. Tired of taking care of my mom when she should be taking care of us.

I sigh and walk into the bathroom to shower. I let the warmth of the water envelope me. It calms me a little, but I know it's only temporary. When I get out of this shower, I'll have to get ready and go to school. I'll have to deal with the haters, liars, and jerks. I seriously hate that place. Once I graduate, I'm getting the hell out of this town. I'll take Prim with me, of course. Not that it'll be easy for her to let go of Mom, but she needs to let go. We shouldn't have to take care of her. Once I'm clean, I get out and wrap a towel around myself. I stare at myself in the mirror and sigh. There's really nothing special about me. Nothing that stands out for people to notice me. People notice me for different reasons. They know who I am for all the wrong reasons.

I hate this town.

I head to my room and toss on some clothes. The quicker I get ready, the sooner I get to school. The sooner I get to school, the sooner it'll be over. When I get to the kitchen, Haymitch is at the table grumbling about how it's too bright. Well no shit. It's day time. He looks up at me with a frown. Like he's disappointed in me. He's one to talk. He's a war hero that turned to booze when he came home because his life sucked or some shit. How cliché.

"Come on, we gotta go Prim," I say to my sister.

She nods and grabs her book bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "Bye Uncle Haymitch," she says cheerfully. "I'll see you later."

"Bye Prim," he smiles. He's always nice to her. It pisses me off sometimes. He turns to me and frowns again. "Try not to get in trouble, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. I hate when he calls me that. I used to like it. It used to be endearing. But now, the way he says it, it sounds like an insult. "Try not to get too drunk," I quip back. Before he can say anything, I take Prim's hand and we're out the front door.

"Why are you so mean to him?" Prim asks as we head down the street.

"He's mean to me," I reply.

"Maybe if you're nice, he'll be nice back. He really cares about us, you know."

I laugh. Prim's so young and naïve, I don't have the heart to break the news to her. The world is mean, cruel place with horrible people that only hurt you. But she's right. Uncle Haymitch does care or he wouldn't have come to help. He tried to help me, but I just added to his drinking problem. I've just been pushing him away for so long he's given up on me. Story of my life.

I walk Prim to the middle school before heading to the bigger building next door. People are calling and waving to her before we even approach the school. She's so popular it's hard to believe we're related. She and I are different in almost every way. She's happy and sees the world in bright lights. Her blonde hair and blue eyes give people a warm feeling inside that makes them smile. I, on the other hand, am bitter. I see the world for what it is and I'm not afraid to tell people they can kiss my ass. My dark hair and grey eyes reflect the cold, dark, loneliness in the depths of my soul. I'm not emo. I'm just not stupid.

"H…hello Pr…Primrose," Rory Hawthorne, our neighbor for as long as we've been alive, stutters as we approach. He's a shy boy with a stutter that he gets teased for. He's also had a crush on Prim since they day he realized that girls were pretty. I think his stutter is worse whenever he's around my sister, but she's never noticed.

"Hello Rory," Prim smiled. She turned to me and gave me a look saying she didn't need me to walk her in. "I'll see you after school, Katniss. Please try not to get in trouble."

I raised a brow and looked between the two twelve year olds before me. "I'm wondering if I should say the same to you," I teased. On cue, Prim and Rory both turned scarlet. The headed toward the school, walking fairly close to each other. "Don't forget you're getting a ride from Vick after school!" I yelled to them.

Rory has two older brothers and a younger sister. Gale, the oldest of the Hawthornes, is four years older than me. He was good-looking, strong, and had charm that made you melt. He knew he had looks, but he wasn't stuck up and cocky like most boys were. He joined the Marines right after he graduated. He said it was his calling. Vick, the middle Hawthorne brother, was my age. He was good-looking too, but for different reasons. Gale took after their father, where Vick was the only brother that looked like their mother Hazelle. His features weren't as rugged as Gale's. His hair was a light brown instead of the dark brown that was nearly black his siblings had. His eyes had a hint of hazel in them (the reason Hazelle's parents named her that was because of her hazel eyes). He had a gentle, soft look. Don't let that fool you though. Vick had a pretty bad temper. He was extremely protective of his family and those he cares about – Prim and me included.

"I knew you'd be screaming my name someday," a male voice laughs, followed by a heavy arm draping across my shoulder.

I roll my eyes and shove Vick's arm off of me. "In your dreams, Pretty Boy," I laugh.

Another thing you should know about Vick is that he is an extreme flirt. Unlike Gale, he loves the attention he gets from people. He likes when the girls look and fawn over him. Cocky bastard.

"Should you be walking so close to me? I don't want to ruin your reputation by letting people think you associate with me," I half-joke. It's true. Being associated with me is like social suicide to these hormonal idiots.

"Please, nothing can make me look less popular. Maybe my cool-factor will rub off on you," he teased, walking right next to me.

"I knew you wanted to rub up on me."

"You should be so lucky."

I roll my eyes and shove him away from me. I can't help but laugh at him. He says some of the stupidest things I wonder how smart the girls he's dated are. He isn't shallow though. When we were freshmen, there was a girl that was trying to date him – Glimmer – that would talk about me when he wasn't around. People thought he was my boyfriend because I always caught a ride with him to school and back home, so she started a rumor that I was putting out so he'd stay with me. Of course, Vick put her in her place. He called her every bad word that he could think of. I tried to keep the distance between us since.

As we approach the high school, I can feel hundreds of eyes on me. Some people even whisper as I pass. I move further away from Vick and lower my head.

"Hey, I'll see you after school," I say lowly. "Don't forget Rory and Prim get out early so they'll be at the playground waiting for you. Just bring Prim to the hospital and she can go home with my mother."

"Kat…" Vick calls.

"I'll see you later." I hurry off before he can stop me. Unfortunately for me, I run right into someone on my escape route. I drop my books along with the other person's. "Sorry," I mumble. I kneel down and start to gather my stuff.

"No worries, my fault," a familiar voice says.

I freeze, afraid to look up. Of course, of all people for me to – literally – run into, it has to be him. Against my better judgment, I look up. I've tried so hard to avoid him since the accident. I've hurt him more than anyone else. He hasn't noticed me yet. Maybe I can just grab my shit and run. Of course, fate is cruel and he looks up at me as his hand brushes mine when we go for the same book. His blue eyes burn like fire. They aren't accusing like everyone else's. No. They're filled with confusion, hurt, and sorrow. All because of me.

"Katniss," he says softly. My name on his lips still sends shivers down my spine.

I just look away and grab my stuff. "Sorry," I say as I stand. I bump into another person, but I don't care. I just shove past them and take off running. I don't have to look back to know that Peeta Mellark is still watching me.

The only reason I survive this place is Madge Undersee. Madge is the mayor's daughter and my only friend. We met when we were kids. She sat beside me in Kindergarten and I've been stuck with her since. I think the counselors took our friendship into factor when they made up our schedules because we had every class together. I thanked God for it too because I wouldn't be able to last a moment without her. People still stare and snicker, but they aren't so bold around Madge. I think they're afraid she'll tell her dad and their parents will find themselves in the unemployment line. They really don't know Madge if they think she would do something like that. The girl cries for whoever gets picked last to be on a team in gym class.

When lunch time comes around, we sit at our own table. People actually avoid having to walk near us. Not just because they dislike me, but also because they think Madge is weird. She's always wearing bright or pastel dresses and head bands or bows in her hair. She's quiet and doesn't talk about boys. She's so kind and perky, they have no idea why she would be friends with someone like me. I did at one point too. I even asked her.

"Because you're nice to me," she said in her soft, shy voice.

"Everyone's nice to you," I replied.

She shook her head and frowned sadly. "You're really nice to me. They're only nice to me because of my dad. You don't think I'm weird either."

"You're not weird. You're just different. We all are."

I hated when people were mean to her. She was nothing but nice to any and every one she met. They teased her and picked on her for being different until she cried. I'd gotten into a lot of fights teaching the stupid girls a lesson about picking on someone that wouldn't defend themselves. She stood by me when it wasn't so easy. She defended me when she couldn't even defend herself. If that wasn't a true friend, I don't know what is.

I'm lost in my own thoughts when Madge's gentle voice pulls me back.

"He's staring at you again," she says.

"Huh?" I ask, looking up.

She subtly points at a nearby table where the wrestling team is sitting. "Peeta Mellark," she replies.

I glance in the direction she's pointing and sure enough, Peeta's watching me. Our eyes meet for a brief moment before he lowers his gaze to his food. There's a sly grin playing on his lips as he laughs at something his friend says.

"He's always staring," I mumble as I look away. "I ran into him earlier. Like, I literally ran into him."

"Oh, did he say anything?"

"I didn't give him the chance. I sorta…ran."

Madge sighs softly and shakes her head. "You can't avoid him forever. He doesn't think you did anything wrong, you know. He doesn't blame you."

"Of course he doesn't, but I do," I say simply.

My eyes are still on Peeta when he peeks up at me again. He gives me a quick, warm smile before turning his attention back to his friends. I've missed the days when I didn't have to avoid him and I could be the true source of his happiness. I miss making him laugh. I miss holding his hand. Most of all, I miss him.

We had been so close before the accident it's hard to believe we don't speak at all now. I remember he would make a face every time I talked about Gale. According to him, it looked like the nonexistent one I got when he was a little too nice to Delly Cartwright. I knew they were friends, just like I was with Gale. I miss those stupid looks. It's been about three years since I stopped returning his phone calls. The first year, he started coming to the house looking for me. I told Haymitch to turn him away. Eventually, he stopped coming. I cried for a week straight starting the day he didn't come knocking at my door. Part of me was glad he'd gotten the message. At the same time, I was heart-broken that he had. Like everyone else, he had given up on me.

When the bell rings, announcing the end of lunch, Madge and I gather our things and hurry to our next class – government. Our teacher, Mr. Plutarch, tries to act like he's cool and doesn't mind us being "a little" late, but we all know he's trying to win us over. We kinda just go along with it. We're about half way to class when I realize I forgot my assignment in my locker. I can't afford another missing assignment.

"Shit," I curse aloud. Madge looks at me with a worried expression, but I wave her off. "I just forgot my paper. I'm gonna run and get it. Go on without me. I'll make it before the final bell."

"Are you sure?" she asks. I know she'd hang back with me if I asked, but I can't do that to her. She's afraid to be late.

"Yea, just go. I'll catch up."

She nods and heads down the hall to the classroom as I bolt down the opposite direction toward my locker. I'm lucky I make it there with a lot of time to spare. I can't believe my luck. I might actually make it back to class on time. Of course, right when the thought crosses my mind, I'm proven wrong.

I shut my locker and I'm headed to class when someone steps in front of me, blocking my way: Cato Savage. Cato is your typical, cliché high school jock. He's captain of the football team and very popular. He's six-foot-three with dark blond hair and brown eyes. He would be attractive if he wasn't an asshole. He thinks that he owns this town and everyone in it. Most of the girls around here are throwing themselves at him and apparently he doesn't turn most of them away. He's rich, handsome, strong, and a complete jerk. I hate him.

"Where you going?" he says in a voice that tells me he intends for me to be his next victim of his cruelty. I'll let you sort that one out.

"Class. Can you move? You're in my way," I say, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. He makes me very uncomfortable.

"What's the rush?"

"I'm going to be late." I try to walk around him, but he steps in front of me. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," he smirks. I try to walk around him again and he follows me.

"Seriously, move."

"I am moving."

"Move out of my way," I say with frustration.

The clock on the wall tells me that my dreams of actually making it to class on time are literally ticking away. Having had enough of this stupid game, I try to walk through this massive brick wall of a boy. I instantly regret it because the moment my shoulder comes in contact with him, Cato pushes me against the wall, pinning me firmly in my place. If I thought I felt uncomfortable earlier, it's a million times worse. He's so close to me, I can actually feel his breath against my face.

"Get away from me," I say in the steadiest voice I can muster, but I'm afraid my fear is showing. I try to push him away, but he doesn't move.

"Or what?" His voice is intended to be seductive, but to me it's disgusting.

"Get. Away. From. Me," I repeat.

"You know, any girl at this school would die to be in your place."

"I doubt that."

"Oh that's right. You and your freaky friend aren't like other girls right?"

I feel the fury bubbling inside of me. "She isn't a freak, asshole." I try to duck under his massive arm, but he grabs me before I can get away. His grip is firm, strong…painful. "Ow. Cato, you're hurting me. Let go." But he doesn't let go. He pushes me back into the wall and a burning pain shoots up arm. "Ow. Cato, let go. Seriously, you're hurting me."

I'm afraid of what he might do next. He has this crazy look in his eyes telling me he doesn't care what he's doing to me. He wants something and he'll take it if he has to. I shut my eyes and turn away as he leans into me. I don't know what to expect next, but suddenly his weight isn't pressing me against the wall. In fact, he isn't even holding on to me anymore.

"The lady said to let go," I hear someone say. My eyes fly open to see Peeta had pulled Cato off of me. He's standing toe-to-toe with Cato. Peeta is a good two or three inches shorter than Cato, but he is broader. He isn't intimidated by the taller boy in the least. His gentle, soft blue eyes burn with fury. He isn't smiling like he was earlier. He's ready for a fight if one should occur.

"Lady?" Cato laughs. "You think this is the old west, Bread Boy? Gotta defend the loner's honor?"

I can see Peeta's hand ball into a fist, his knuckles quickly turning white. He clenched his jaw a few times before speaking again, "Hurt her again and I'll rip your fucking arm off."

Cato looked at Peeta, then at me. A smirk crossed his face as he started to laugh. "Oh I get it," he said. "Still holding a candle to the prude, Lover Boy? I heard you follow her around like a lost puppy, pining over the one that got away." Cato moved his face so close to Peeta's they were nose to nose. "You should remember I always get what I want. If I want that," he says pointing at me, "I'll take it and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."

I can see Peeta's hand rearing back, preparing to throw a punch. "Peeta, no!" I shout, grabbing his arm to prevent him from doing something stupid.

At that very moment, the door to the classroom across from us swung open. "Everything alright out here?" the teacher asks as he steps out. It's the art teacher who prefers the students call him Cinna. He's young, not much older than us. His brown hair is short and his eyes look almost gold. He doesn't impose his authority like most teachers. He doesn't have to. It's hard to be mean to someone so nice. People think he's weird because of the way he holds himself. He's very…free. I'm not in any of his classes, but I hear he allows his students to do as they please. Instead of teaching the kids about art, he encourages them to express themselves. His sleeves to his white button up shirt are rolled up to his elbows, exposing more of his light skin. It almost looks porcelain. "Mr. Savage? Mr. Mellark, everything is alright, isn't it?"

Peeta's hand relaxed and his arm is no longer tense. He takes a step back, still blocking me from Cato. "Yes, sir," he says. "Just a misunderstanding."

"Mr. Savage?" Cinna asks as he looks over at Cato.

"Yea, it's all good," he says roughly.

"Good. Perhaps you should all get to class then." Cato slowly starts to back away, his eyes fixated on Peeta. "Have a good day, Mr. Savage."

"This isn't over, Mellark," Cato threatens as he backs away. "Not by a long shot." His words send a shiver down my spine and I'm glad he turns the corner, finally out of sight. I have a feeling he lives up to his last name more than some people should.

"You two should get going also," Cinna tells us. "Peeta, don't forget to stop by before you head home."

Peeta just nods and snatches up his book bag from the floor. I take off before he has a chance to be with me alone. I'm not ready to be around him just yet. I was nearly home free when I heard him call.

"Katniss!" he shouts after me. "Wait up!" I turn to see him jogging toward me. He doesn't run much anymore. He can't. Not after the accident.

"I'm gonna be late," I say curtly.

"Yea, I know," he says as he finally catches up to me. He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a binder. "You might need this though." He holds it out to me and shrugs. "I guess we got them mixed up earlier. I figured you'd have homework in it or something."

I snatch the binder from his hands and hold it close. "You looked in it?" I accuse.

He shakes his head quickly. "No. I…I didn't."

"How'd you know it wasn't yours then? Huh?" I knew I shouldn't be getting mad at him, but I don't know what I would do if he saw the contents of my binder. I'd probably die of embarrassment.

"Because it has your name on it." He tapped the spine of the binder where my name was printed on a label at the bottom. "I swear I didn't look in it. I didn't even realize it was yours until I was getting ready to go to class. I'm sorry."

I let out a sigh. Why did he have to be so nice? It would be a lot easier to avoid him if he was a jerk. But this was Peeta Mellark. He didn't have a bad bone in his body. "It's fine," I grumble. "I'm sorry I got mad. And…thank you. For…the Cato thing."

He frowns and nods his head. I can see his shoulders tense again. He and Cato have had a long standing rivalry that only intensified with each passing year. "You're welcome," he replies. He looks up at me and smiles. My heart feels like it's melting and breaking at the same time. It's really an odd feeling. "Can I walk you to class?"

"No." He automatically deflates at my rejection. I hate doing this to him, but I can't hurt him anymore. "Peeta, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but I think that we should just leave things the way they are."

"And what way is that, Katniss? You pretend I don't exist? Like I never mattered to you?"

"Yes. I mean, no. Ugh. Just…stop. I have to go. I'm sorry."

I turn and run the rest of the way to class. Part of me thinks he's going to chase after me. A bigger part hopes he does. But when I look back, I see that he hasn't. He won't. I told him not to come after me and, like always, he's listened. That stupid boy listened and it's my fault.

I was four years old when I met Peeta Mellark. He was the most beautiful boy I would ever lay eyes on. When we were five, he told me he loved me. We were five when he walked up to me and said, "One day, I'm going to marry you, Katniss Everdeen. I promise." He always was a man of his word, but that's one promise he won't get to keep.