I know, I know, this has taken me forever and I'm so, so, sorry! I just had Thanksgiving, and then some huge tests, and it's just been crazy! Anyway, I'd like to thank my reviewers, Ellenka, and . raven.X. It means a lot that you would review this really short story! Okay, without further ado, here is Chapter 2!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games!

"Primrose Everdeen? There must be a mistake." I remember back to earlier that day. "You won't get picked, Prim. You only have one slip. There are thousands in the bowl, Prim. The chances of you getting picked are one to one million!" Prim giggled and replied, "Well, I suppose so."

Obviously the odds were not in our favor. I still hadn't moved, rooted to the spot in shock. I hear the crowd murmuring in discomfort, as they always do when a twelve-year-old is chosen. I see Prim making her way to the stage, and she looks so small, and scared, and...her shirt! The back of her shirt has come untucked, and it forms a ducktail. This is like a bolt of lightning to my heart, and I start to move.

"Prim!" I begin running towards the stage. I don't have to push anyone out-of-the-way, they part, and give me a clear path. "Prim!" I reach her and she turns around, her expression is that of a deer when they first see the hunter. Terrified, like when they know they are going to die. I extend my arm, and with one swoop, Prim is now tucked safely behind me. The peacekeepers move to take her away and brush me aside, but I shove them aside and manage to call out-"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

There is a shocked silence. Nobody saw that coming. I look to the stage, and there is some confusion. District 12 hasn't had a volunteer for decades, and the proper protocol, I'm sure, has been long forgotten. Mayor Undersee says "Well-" but Effie cuts him off.

"Actually, proper protocol would be to draw our male tribute, and then ask..." She trails off, uncertain herself. Mayor Undersee says "What does it matter? Let her come forward."

Mayor Undersee has a daughter, Madge, who has been in my classes at school for as long as I can remember. We're friends, and Gale and I often sell her strawberries in the summer. I wonder if he realizes this, as I step on stage. Does he know I am the girl who brings the strawberries? Does he know that he gave me a Medal of Valor, nearly five years ago? As he looks into my eyes, and gravely shakes my hand, I think he does. But our heartwarming moment is broken up by Effie. She grabs my arm and leads me to the microphone. She looks ecstatic, happy to finally have a district with some action.

"Well, what is your name dear?" Effie asks.

"Katniss Everdeen." I say, as I look out into the crowd. I can still hear Prim screaming, and as I look for her, I see Gale, holding her back, and staring at me with a pained expression on his face.

"Well," Effie gushes. "I'll bet my buttons that was your sister. Can't let her steal all the glory, now can we?" She nudges me and chuckles, but I just turn and give her a judgemental stare. She gulps, and quickly moves on. "Well, let's move on to our male tribute!" She crosses to the opposite side of the stage, where the ball containing the boys slips rests. I barely have time to send up a quick prayer for Gale's safety, when she reads the next name. "Peeta Mellark."

Oh no. Not him. I've never spoken to this boy, but I certainly know him. The odds are definitely not it the Everdeen's favor today. I see him start, then begin making his way to the stage.

Back before I'd met Gale, when we were all still starving, I'd gone to the market with some of Prim's old baby clothes, to try to trade them for food. It was raining, and I slipped, and the clothes went flying into a puddle. I just left them, because nobody wanted them, and I was afraid if I bent over to pick them up, I'd fall, and not be able to get back up. Stealing is forbidden in District 12, punishable by death, but scavenging in the trash cans was fair game. I went around to the bakers, and peered into their can, to see if perhaps there was any burnt bread. The baker's wife was a rough, mean, woman, and she saw me through a window. She came out and started yelling. I saw a boy behind her staring at me with calculating, blue eyes-Peeta. I turned and ran. When she shut the door, I crawled back, and collapsed under a tree in their yard. I soon heard more yelling from inside. Then the woman flung open the back door, and shoved Peeta outside. "Feed it to the hogs, you bumbling oaf! And don't let me catch you making a mistake like that again!" She went inside, and slammed the door behind her for good measure.

I knew Peeta had seen me, but he wasn't acknowledging my presence. He wouldn't even look my way. I saw he had two loaves of bread in his hands. I could smell them from here. They must have fallen in the oven, because they were blackened around the edges. Peeta threw one of the loaves in the pig sty. Then he turned around, as if looking to make sure his mother wasn't watching, and threw the second loaf at me. I caught it, but he didn't turn around. He just pulled open the door, and walked back inside. I've never spoken a word to him about it. I've never spoken a word to him in general. And now I'll probably never get to say thank you.

I look up, and see that Peeta has stopped moving forward. Something, or someone, has stopped him. Gale has tapped Peeta on the shoulder, and is now striding confidently down the aisle. He gets all the way to the stage, with everybody just gaping at him. "I volunteer." My jaw drops. "I volunteer as tribute."

OOOh, a cliffie! I was originally going to make this longer, but I'm trying to keep the chapters at about 1,000 words apiece. I already have most of the next chapter written, and I'm hoping to get it up on OR BEFORE: December 1st! Please review, and I am still looking for a beta! Thanks everybody!