"Alright, class, I'm going to do a quick roll call," Professor Trinket said. I yawned and took a sip of my coffee. It was way too early, in my opinion, for Performing Arts class. Why I had decided to take a Performing Arts class I had no idea in hell why. But hey, at least it got my Creative Arts credit out of the way.
"Cashmere?" A pretty girl with long blonde hair raised her hand, a beauty pageant smile on her face. I rolled my eyes, taking another sip of my coffee. No doubt a 1.
"Gloss?" A boy version of Cashmere raised his hand. "Are you two twins?"
"No ma'am, we are siblings though, and we're very close in age," he said, smiling. Professor Trinket giggled and nodded.
"Very well. Welcome to Performing Arts." She went back to her list.
"Glimmer?" A girl raised her hand.
"Marvel?" Another boy.
"Clove?" Some snooty looking bitch playing with a pocket knife briefly raised her hand, then went back to flipping open and closing the knife. I scooted my chair a little closer to the door.
"Cato?" What the hell, do all these upper level District kids look like snooty assholes? This guy looked like he thought he walked on water.
"Enobaria?" Holy mother of God, I didn't know it was possible for a chick to have teeth that sharp.
"Brutus?" Just a big, muscular guy.
"Bettee? Wiress?" A man and woman raised their hands.
"Finnick?" A good looking guy raised his hand. He saw me looking and winked at me. I rolled my eyes and turned my head away. So full of himself.
"Oh, how do I pronounce this one?"
"Just call me Foxface," a girl piped up. "I know it's hard to pronounce."
"Alright, will do. Johanna?"
"Right here." I was so glad I knew someone in this class. I don't think I could make it the whole semester pretending I liked people.
"Blight?" Some dude with a beard raised his hand, then quickly lowered it.
"Cecilia?" A pretty girl.
"Rue?" A girl who looked like she was Prim's age raised her hand.
"Thresh?" Another big, muscular dude.
"And lastly, Katniss?" I raised my coffee free hand. At that moment, the door opened. In walked Peeta, his hair a little messy, with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He saw Professor Trinket and smiled.
"Sorry I'm late, Professor," he said. "I just got switched into the class a few minutes ago."
"That's quite alright. What's your name?"
"Peeta Mellark."
"Well, Peeta, welcome to Performing Arts. We're glad to have you." Peeta smiled again and nodded, then slipped into the seat next to me.
"Hey," he whispered, grinning. I smiled softly. "What are you doing here? Didn't take you for the Performing Arts type."
"I'm not," I laughed. He did too, until Professor Trinket coughed at us.
"Now, you may call me Effie. I think Professor Trinket is too formal." She then rambled on about the class procedures and what we'd be doing this year. I wasn't really paying attention until I heard her say "partner project."
"You may pick a partner to perform a scene from a Shakespeare classic. I'll give you a few minutes, then I'll need to know who is partnered with who, and what play you'll be doing." She turned away, and the class started conversing.
"So, Katniss, you wanna be partners?" Peeta asked, nudging me with his elbow. "I think it'll be fun."
"Uh…" I sat there for a minute, dumbstruck that the boy I had a huge crush on was asking me to be his partner. I quickly recovered and nodded. "Sure. What play were you thinking of?"
"Romeo and Juliet is my favorite," he said. I think I felt my heart stop. "You wanna grab lunch and then practice after class? I don't have any other classes today." I nodded enthusiastically, and he smiled great.
"Alright class, who has a partner and play ready?" Peeta and I raised our hands. "Ah, Katniss, working with Peeta?"
"Yes, Effie."
"And what play will you two be presenting to us?"
"Romeo and Juliet," Peeta replied.
"Oh, my favorite!" Effie grinned. She wrote down our names, then continued on with the other pairs. Once we were dismissed, Peeta and I headed to the cafeteria for lunch. After a quick bite, we went to the library to print out the script.
"Which scene do you wanna do?" Peeta asked me, googling the script on the computer. I decided to be bold and see if he would agree with my suggestion.
"How about Act I, Scene V, where they meet for the first time?" I didn't mention that was also the kissing scene. He looked up at me and grinned.
"Perfect." He clicked print, and once he grabbed the papers off the printer, we headed back to my room, since Johanna had a class.
"Alright, so, I start right?" Peeta asked, shrugging off his jacket and picking up his script. I nodded, and he cleared his throat, sitting next to me on my bed.
"If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." This boy had the smoothest, sexiest Shakespearian accent I'd ever heard in my life. I looked down at my script so I wouldn't have to look into his eyes.
"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this,
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss," I mumbled. Peeta put his fingers under my chin and lifted it to make me look at him.
"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"
"Um…Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."
"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.
They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."
"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake," I whispered.
"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take." He stopped and looked down at the script. "It says then that I'm supposed to kiss you, but I'm sure we don't have to do that until the actual performance. Um…Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged." I looked down, disappointed.
"Then have my lips the sin that they have took," I said sadly.
"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again. Oh, then I'm supposed to kiss you again. Well, again, not until the actual performance."
"You kiss by th' book." I shut my script and stood up. "I need to use the bathroom." I walked out the door and down the hall to the community bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I looked at myself, pondering. Why didn't he want to kiss me? Did he like me? I splashed my face with cold water, and dried it off with a paper towel.
No, he doesn't like you, Katniss, I told myself. If he did, he would've kissed you already. I frowned and threw my paper towel away, then headed back to my room. Peeta was sitting on the bed still, skimming through his script.
"Do you wanna run through it again?" he asked me, grinning a half grin.
"No, I'm kind of tired, I think I'm going to take a nap," I told him firmly. His face fell for a moment, but he smiled softly again.
"Alright, I'll let you sleep. Just come knock on my door whenever you want to rehearse again, or maybe hang out. I'm upstairs, room 74." He waved as he went out the door, then shut it.
As soon as I was sure he was far enough away, I groaned and flopped down on my bed. I heard the door open, and I assumed it was Johanna, since she was the only one who also had a key to our room.
"I hate my life," I mumbled into my pillow.
"Why?" Johanna asked. I sat up and handed her my script. She skimmed it briefly. "Romeo and Juliet? Yeah, I know, this is yours and Peeta's play."
"Look at the scene." She looked down again, and her eyes widened in shock.
"Isn't this the scene where they…?"
"Kiss? Yes. Twice."
"Did he kiss you when you rehearsed? Was he a bad kisser? Is that why you're upset?" She asked, sitting next to me on my bed.
"No, he didn't kiss me. That's why I'm upset," I mumbled.
"He's probably just nervous. He sat right next to you in class and picked you for a partner. He's obviously into you."
"You think so?"
"Of course." I smiled halfheartedly, but didn't really believe her.
"Thanks, Johanna. I guess I'll just see what happens."
"No problem." She leaned over and gave me a quick hug, then stood up and turned on our TV, flopping down on her bed. For the rest of the day, we watched movies, and ended up ordering a pizza for dinner. Haymitch, who was our Resident Assistant and lived upstairs on the boy's floor, made his nightly rounds, slugging back a bottle of dark liquid, which I suspected was some sort of alcohol. But we'd talked a few times when I'd seen him in the hallways and around campus, and he seemed alright. He was helpful when he wanted to be.
Peeta and I continued to rehearse every day after dinner, and I continued to give him the cold shoulder. I insisted on sitting on the other side of the room, which he seemed to not mind. I swear I thought him looking sadly out the window every now and then, but he'd look back at me and smile a quick grin every time I caught him. Pretty soon though, those sad looks were replaced with angry looks.
"Katniss, what hell is going on here?" he asked one day, standing up and throwing his script onto my desk. "You've been acting like you hate me since we started this project. What gives?" I glared at him and stood up too, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"That's none of your damn business."
"It is my business when you're my partner, and we're supposed to be acting like we're in love!"
"That's all we're doing, is acting. Once this project is over, we don't have to talk to each other again if you'd like," I spat.
"Why don't you wanna talk to me?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter." I walked to the door and went to grab the door knob, when his fingers closed around my wrist. He spun my around, so my back was against the door. He caged me in, his hands on either side of my head.
"Oh no, you're not avoiding me any longer. Tell me what is going on right now."
