The bell in the bakery rang softly as a new customer entered.
Peeta looked up from the burning oven. He brushed flour away from his face and tried to look presentable, which is difficult because he spent the whole morning dragging bags of flour around. He wiped his hands on his apron and met his customer.
It was a cold morning, but inside the bakery, it was steaming and warm, due to the ever-present furnace. The smell of baking bread and frosting always wafted outside attracting hungry people like flies. Peeta had to shoo people away more than twice that week only.
Peeta expected Mr. Tumnus, a fellow rich man, or as rich as a person could get in District 12. He had expected a blonde-haired, blue-eyed person, but the man who entered the bakery was just the opposite.
He wasn't even a man.
It was a boy, dressed in what Peeta would call rags. His dark hair was coated in a snow and his dark eyes had eye bags under them. He smelled of fresh pine and grass but it looked like he hadn't taken a shower in a month, much less afford shampoo. He had a malnourished but strong frame and wasn't that much older than Peeta. His body He was hauling a leather bag over his shoulder.
His appearance just screamed 'Seam'!
His father had told him not to meddle with the type.
The boy dropped his leather sack on the counter.
He had also told Peeta never to refuse business.
The Seam boy meant business.
Twelve-year-old Peeta was torn between the conflicting commandments of his father and the boy extracted a dead squirrel from his bag.
Peeta jumped in the air. "SQUIRREL MURDERER!"
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Well, yeah. I killed it, but I don't reckon you'd like to eat it alive."
Peeta stared warily at the unmoving russet-colored creature. He poked it. He looked up to the Seam boy. "You better have a good reason to pull out a dead animal corpse and scare me half-to-death," he said.
The boy ignored this and just grinned half-heartedly, showing his canine-like teeth. "Where can I find Mr. Mellark?"
"He's busy in the market. He left the bakery for me to take care of while he's gone. I'm his son, Peeta." He extended a reluctant hand.
The boy took it and began shaking it which such gusto, Peeta thought his arm was going to fall off. "Hi Pete. I'm Gale. Mr. Mellark always takes my squirrels and trades them for bread." He let go, leaving coal dust on Peeta's hand. Honestly, what is it with the Seam and their coal?
Peeta wiped his hand as discreetly as he could on his apron. "Okay. I'll take the dead thing. Stale or burnt?"
Gale stared at him blankly.
"The bread. Do you want stale or burnt bread?"
Gale looked offended. "Do I look like I want badly abused bread?" He gestured to himself.
No, Peeta thought, looking at the 'clothes' that hung loosely from Gale's body. You need an entire Capitol feast. "You don't look like you can afford the fresh ones."
Gale looked at himself and shrugged. "Whatever. I'll take two stale loaves."
Peeta took the squirrel by its tail and lifted it. "Ugh. That's nasty." He walked to the freezer and threw it in. He walked to the pantry that was full of stale bread and plucked two out. He returned and handed them to Gale.
Gale peered at them suspiciously. "What is this?"
"Your trade, of course."
"This? It looks like a mouse had a poo in there."
"Impossible. I've been eating out of the stale bread pantry for years."
Gale looked to Peeta. "That explains you, then."
Peeta narrowed his eyes at the taller boy. "Watch it, Seam."
Gale thrust the loaves back to Peeta. "Oh, take it away from me! It's so disgusting! I can't bear to look at it any longer," Gale moaned dramatically.
Peeta rolled his eyes. "I see nothing wrong with them!"
Gale turned over one of the loaves and pointed at a dark spot. "See? Look at it and tell me what that is."
Peeta squinted at the dark spot. He was lost for words, which is very rare. "That's… that's a-"
"Exactly."
"Hang on! That's a raisin. A raisin! Count yourself lucky you got a bonus raisin. Raisins are rare in District 12." Peeta knows that it isn't true. He wasn't sure what that thing was. Lies are easier than admitting to this arrogant boy that he's right.
Gale widened his eyes and leaned closer to the loaf. "No, that is most certainly poo."
"No!"
"Well, if you're sure about it, Baker Boy, eat it."
"What?"
"Eat it!"
"No!"
"Prove to me it's a raisin," Gale said in a straight voice.
"Maybe you should eat it. You're the customer," Peeta said, desperately.
"Well, you're the baker. It's an occupational hazard, Pete."
Peeta wanted to punch the Gale then. He plucked the raisin and set it on the counter. "There! Two raisin-free bread. Take the loaves."
"It is not a raisin! That is a mice dropping."
"Drop it!"
"No!"
"Gale, there is no way mice poo can be that big. Unless it's from a purple mutant mouse from Mars, it's a raisin."
Gale stashed the loaves in his Leather Bag of Squirrel Slaughter. Peeta didn't think it was sanitary. "Fine."
Gale was about to leave when the door bell rang again. Peeta saw a flash of dark hair and groaned. Not another Seam.
"Hi Katniss," Gale called. "I was just leaving."
"Hey Gale." She looked at Peeta. "Hi Peeta."
"H-h-h-hi, Katniss." He attempted a smile which looked more like a grimace. Katniss didn't notice.
"Wait, you know Petey?"
She shrugged. "I see him at school." She got out her own Leather Bag of Squirrel Slaughter and dropped it in the counter, like Gale. "Do you have room for another squirrel? I went round the Hob and couldn't find a decent price today. Everyone's feeling a bit stingy in the cold." As she was saying this, all Peeta could do was nod.
She was about to pull out a squirrel when she looked down at the counter. "Oh. You dropped a chocolate chip, Peeta."
And Katniss popped it in her mouth.