Authors Note

Heeeeey everyone! This is my first Fan Fiction and I hope you guys love it! Special thanks to Cloud-Lover26, , and ! They are all great writers and I encourage you guys to go check out their stories! This is my first Fan Fiction so…all reviews are welcome! Rated T because it's the Hunger Games after all! Ok….now onto the story!

DISCLAIMER: The only characters I own are the ones in the hunger games (besides peeta. That's from Suzanne Collins) Suzanne Collins owns everything else! I wish I did though…

What If?

Katniss POV

"Gale," I say. "We need to head back."

Gale gives me his most famous puppy dog look. I hate it when he does this, especially because it gets me to do almost anything. Almost.

My response to his look is, "Im sorry, but we can't stay any longer. The reaping is in a few hours, and Prim's waiting. Can we please just go already?" I emphasize the please, because Gale knows I never say please. If I do then he knows it's important.

"Okay!" He says innocently. "But can we do just one more thing? Follow me."

Im about to just say no and start walking, but I notice we are heading somewhat in the direction of the fence, and today is the reaping after all, so I give in and follow him.

Gale walks very quickly, but his footsteps are as silent as the grass growing. We finally arrive, and the place he has taken me is our rock.

He motions me to sit down, so I do. I watch him carefully walk over to the blueberry bush. I instantly smile, as I realize I completely forgot about our tradition.

I look down a little embarrassed. How could I forget? As I asked myself this question, I also realized I almost forgot about going to meet Prim too! It completely slipped my mind when we got here.

I smile at the thought of seeing Prim again. I rarely ever smile. There are only three people who can make me smile. Gale, Madge, and Prim.

Thinking of Prim makes me feel as if I have been away from her too long. I know I just saw her this morning, but right now, I miss her.

I miss her smile, her laugh, and the way her skirt gets tucked in the back. I miss my little duck. Suddenly, I feel a deep longing for my sister. For—

"Catnip, you ok?" Gale looks worried.

"Oh. Uh, what? Yeah, I'm ok," I respond. "Why?"

"You just looked like your upset. You sure nothing's wrong?"

"Yeah," I tell him. I watch, as his features go from worried to relieved.

"Okay, in that case…" He puts on a mischievous smile.

"And may the odds," Gale starts with a silly capitol accent, and tosses up a blueberry.

I catch the blueberry in my mouth and say in my best capitol accent, "…be ever in your favor!"

Gale smiles and then says, "Okay, Catnip. Lets go."

"Alright. Did you remember the strawberries? The Undersee's ordered some," I remind him.

"Uh-Oh, I'll see you at the reaping Catnip!" Is all Gale says before he starts running off towards the strawberry bush he and I discovered years ago.

I do a small laugh and whisper, "See you at the reaping Gale."

I push the door open to my house. I see an anxious Prim running around in the living room trying to decide on what outfit to wear for her first reaping.

"Hey Prim," I say. "Sorry im late. I was at the woods with Gale, and we kind of forgot about the time."

"KATNISS!" Prim says relieved. "I thought you wouldn't show! You do realize you're a half hour late! The reaping starts in two hours!"

"Don't worry little duck! I'm here now. Lets get started." I tell her.

Prim smiles when I called her little duck, and whispers, "quack!"

During the next hour and a half, Prim and I get dressed, do make-up, hair, get cleaned up, and pick out shoes.

By the time we are done, the clock says that we are going to be late to the reaping unless we leave now. Prim and I almost run out the door and we barely make it in time to hear the end of the speech.

I quickly kiss Prim's forehead and tell her goodbye and good luck.

Prim and I go our separate ways, and by the time I make it over to the 16-year-old section, Madge bumps into me.

All she says is, "Hey. Good luck. Here's your half for the strawberries."

I thank her and wish her luck as well. I lock eyes with Gale in the 17-year-old section and we both mouth good luck. Then someone from the crowd shushes me and I am forced to pay attention.

I look up at the stage where Effie Trinket reaches her light pink press-on nails, that match her light pink wig, and grabs a slip. Everyone is so still, you could hear a pin drop.

I close my eyes and cross my fingers. All that is going through my mind is: Not Prim, Not Madge. Over and over and over again.

It seems like forever until Effie says the name.

"Meredith Hamlett. Congratulations! You are this year's female tribute for District 12!"

I let out a small sigh. I can't help but be thankful Prim was not picked; yet I feel bad for Meredith. I knew Meredith had a parent from the seam, and a parent from town, because of her looks. She had nice, long brown hair, blue eyes, and lightly tan skin. She walked to the stage with a determined expression. There was also a hint of disappointment, but she quickly erased that from her face. I've seen Meredith around school, maybe exchanged a hello, but never more than a few words.

I felt bad, but also relieved because Prim was spared.

I got so lost in thought that I almost didn't notice Effie walked over to the opposite side of the stage, and she dipped her hand in.

Once again, everyone held their breath. Including me.

My next thoughts were: Not Gale, Not Rory. I thought thisover, and over, and over again until I heard the name. And it wasn't Gale, or Rory. The name I heard was,

"Peeta Mellark."

I felt relief flood through my entire body knowing everyone I possibly loved was definitely not going into the Hunger Games this year.

Then, I froze.

Peeta Mellark? I know that name. I can't remember why I know that name, but I just do. I try to ignore the weird feeling I get when I hear his name, but im too curious now. I try to rack my brain in search of the answer, but none has come.

I look up at the kid. He has blonde hair, blue eyes, and very broad shoulders as he shakily makes his way to the stage.

I think he works at the Bakery. When I traded with his father, he has been behind the counter a few times. I think that's all I know him from until I remember. There's a very faint light scar that you can hardly notice on his left cheek.

I gasp and my eyes grow wide.

I feel sick to my stomach as the sudden realization hits. I am the reason for that scar. Why Him? I think. Why did it have to be him?

Peeta Mellark, is the Boy with the Bread.