Chapter 2

As soon as she realizes who it is, her eyes shift to look for another blond head. Instead of her sister's blond hair, she searches the boy section for a head resembling the unlucky boy reaped. Even in a sea of fair skin and light hair, Katniss is able to make out the unmistakable head of Peeta Mellark, the boy she owes her life to.

The boy with the bread.

It was during the worst time in Katniss's life. Her father had recently died in a mine accident during the bitterest of winters. The numbness of his loss had passed leaving Katniss as cold and raw as the barren, frozen land. The district had given her family a small amount of money as compensation for his death, enough to cover one month of grieving at which time her mother would be expected to get a job.

Only she didn't.

Her mother didn't do anything but sit, propped up in a chair or, more often, huddled under the blankets on her bed, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. No amount of pleading from Prim or Katniss seemed to affect her. Nothing sitting her, not the cries of her daughter or the cries of their empty bellies. At eleven, Katniss had not only lost a father but a mother as well.

Katniss did her best to care for herself and Prim, so as not to let anyone find out about her mother's condition. If word got out that their mother was no longer able to care for them, then Katniss and Prim would be placed in the community home. Besides the games, Katniss can't think of a worse fate.

Once the money ran out; however, there was little Katniss could do. They were slowly starving to death. Katniss only had a few weeks left before she turned 12 and would be eligible to sign up for tesserae to get grain and oil in exchange for more slips entered into the reaping bowl. Not that it mattered as feeding Prim was more important than being potentially reaped into the Games. They just needed to hold on until her 12th birthday, but as the days passed that seemed less and less likely.

Katniss's family was on death's door.

It was raining the day Katniss first met Peeta. The rain was relentless, falling in icy sheets. Katniss had gone into town to trade some threadbare old baby clothes of Prim's in the public market, but there had been no takers. Katniss could have gone to the Hob, but she had been much too young and still too fearful to venture into that rough, and gritty place alone.

The rain had soaked through her father's hunting jacket, leaving her chilled to the bone. By the time the market had closed, Katniss was shaking so hard that she dropped the bundle of baby clothes in a mud puddle. Katniss didn't pick them up for fear of not having the strength to get back up. The clothes weren't worth the effort anyway.

Katniss was tired, so tired, and so cold. But she couldn't go home. At home was her mother with vacant eyes, and her little sister with hollow cheeks and an empty belly. Katniss couldn't return to them with empty hands and no hope.

Katniss ended up stumbling along a muddy lane behind the shops that serve the wealthiest townspeople. Katniss searched through their trash bins, hoping to find something—anything, to feed her family. Perhaps a bone at the butchers or rotted vegetables at the grocers.

When Katniss passed the bakery, the smell of fresh bread stopped her in her tracks. She lifted the lid to the baker's trash bin and found… nothing. Hungry and depressed she lowered the lid when a voice caught her off guard. Katniss looked up to find the shrill voice of the baker's wife yelling at her to move on.

"Move along seam brat! Do you want me to call the Peacekeepers?"

Her words, along with face, were ugly, and Katniss did not have the strength to fight back. As she backed away from the trash bins she noticed him, a boy with blond hair peering out from behind his mother's back. She recognized him, sort of, from school.

His mother went back into the bakery, grumbling, but he must have been watching her as she made her way behind the pen that held their pigs and leaned against the far side of an old apple tree. The realization that she would have nothing to take home finally sunk in. Her knees bucked, and she slid down the tree truck. Her family was going to starve to death, and there was nothing she could do.

Suddenly, there was a clatter in the bakery and Katniss heard the baker's wife screaming again and then the sound of a blow. She saw feet come toward her and she thought It's her. She's coming to drive me away with a stick. But it wasn't her. It was the boy. In his arms, he carried two large loaves of bread that must have fallen into the fire because the crusts were scorched black.

His mother was yelling, "Feed it to the pigs, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!"

He began to tear off chunks from the burned parts and toss them into the pigpen as his mother went back inside the bakery. The boy never glanced at Katniss, but she watched him, because of the bread in his arms, and because of the red welt that stood out on his cheekbone. Katniss couldn't help but wince. What had she hit him with?

The boy took one look back at the bakery as if checking that the coast was clear, then, his attention back on the pig, he threw the loaves of bread in her direction. Katniss stared at the bread in disbelief. Except for the burned areas, the loaves were perfect, hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts. She grabbed the loaves and shoved them under her shirt, protecting them from the rain with her father's hunting jacket. She ran home, clutching the loaves of bread tighter, clinging on to life.

That night, her family ate their first real meal in weeks.

It didn't occur to Katniss until the next morning that the boy might have burned the bread on purpose to give to her knowing he'd receive a beating. However, she dismissed the idea. He didn't even know her! Still, that bread was an enormous kindness, and such kindness was rare.

Katniss saw the boy at school. His cheek had swelled up, and his eye had blackened. He didn't acknowledge her in any way, but that afternoon, as she and Prim headed home, she found him staring at her from across the schoolyard. Their eyes met only for a second; then he turned his head away. She too looked away, and dropped her gaze, embarrassed, and that's when she saw it. The first dandelion of the year. A bell went off in her head. She thought about all the hours she spent in the woods with her father, the fresh game, the edible plants—his bow.

She knew how they were going to survive.

To this day, Katniss can never shake the connection between the boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave her hope, and the dandelion that reminded her she was not doomed.

Peeta and Katniss are not friends. She has never spoken to him, not even to thank him for the loaves of bread that saved her family's life. But that doesn't matter because Peeta's brother has just been reaped, because the cruelest thing that can happen, is happening to the kindest boy in District 12.

It's not fair.

Katniss stares at Peeta, in sympathy—or was it pity— Katniss does not know. Maybe she's trying to gauge his reaction. Katniss can't see Peeta's face, but she can almost feel his distress. Katniss does not consider herself a warm or comforting person, but at this moment she desires nothing more but to ease the pain that Peeta must be feeling.

Katniss would be an inconsolable wreck if her sister were the one reaped. She can't even begin to imagine it, her sister, her sweet Prim being reaped, being forced to be in the games. Her heart clenches in grief.

Peeta remains unmoving, head facing his brother. A beat later and Katniss figures the shock must have worn off as she spots movement. Peeta's shoulders and head slump forward, looking utterly defeated, not unlike his brother who has just reached the stage. Then, surprising still, she sees Peeta slowly, aggressively almost, making his way toward the edge of the section marked for sixteen year olds.

No, she thinks almost desperately once she realizes what Peeta intends to do. Volunteering is unheard of in District 12, and although Katniss understands, for she would have done the same for her sister, she mentally pleads for Peeta not to do the same.

Peeta is too good, too gentle.

The games would eat him alive.

Unnoticed to Katniss, she starts to move towards him, hoping to stop his noble but stupid actions. Before she can take another step, a boy, lanky but taller than Peeta grabs hold of his shoulders. Peeta is strong though and manages to shake out of the other boy's grasp. There appears to be a silent fight brewing between the two. If the attention weren't solely focused on the children reaped, the peacekeepers would have put an end to it immediately.

Effie Trinket asks for volunteers.

District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in decades, possibly ever. The rule is that once a tribute's name has been pulled from the ball, another eligible boy, if a boy's name has been read, or girl, if a girl's name has been read, can step forward to take his place. In some districts, in which winning the Hunger Games is such a great honor, people are eager to risk their lives and volunteering is far more common. But in District 12, where the world tribute is pretty much synonymous with the word corpse, volunteers are unheard of.

Today might be the expectation.

Katniss eyes grow large. She turns to look at Peeta—hoping he won't be so foolish as to volunteer. However, before he has a chance, the other boy manages to put his hand over Peeta's mouth, and the other arm around his shoulders. It's a hold she's seen some of the boys on the wrestling team do before, but given the boy's size Katniss assumes he's not a part of the wrestling team. His grip looks sloppy and given the fact that Peeta came in 2nd in last year's wrestling tournament, Katniss has no doubt that Peeta can easily get out of the hold.

Peeta jabs his elbow into the other boy's side causing the boy to double over and, as Katniss predicted, allows Peeta to remove the boy's hold on him. Peeta moves quickly to the edge of the roped off section. Katniss watches in horror as Peeta begins to raise his hand and open his mouth to speak the words that will mark his death sentence.

"NO!"

It takes Katniss a second to realize that the yell did not come from a grief-stricken parent, or from Peeta.

It came from her.

Peeta stops, his body frozen and eyes locked on her. Throughout the years, Katniss has caught Peeta's eyes trained on her numerous times, only to look away quickly. She's never locked eyes with Peeta for more than a second. Until now.

His eyes are bluer than she imagined.

"Oh my! Well that was rude, but if you feel that strongly about it…how about we give a round of applause for our latest tributes!" Effie forces an awkward laugh and claps her hands in celebration of the reaping. Her hands clapping are the only sound in the town square. District 12 may be small, poor, and broken, but they are a prideful people. They stand still; looking up at the tributes, their solemn, motionless faces a clear sign that they will not celebrate such atrocities.

It's the most rebellious District 12 ever is.

Katniss breaks away from her stare-off, embarrassed. Not only was all of District 12 witness to her brazen act of insanity, but it was also recorded for all of Panem to see. Katniss bites down on her thumbnail, which has already been worn down since the morning. What did I just do? An outburst like that could have had serious consequences. She's just glad that Effie was able to play it off as some smart-mouthed kid answering her question.

She looks back up, once she feels people's eyes have moved on from her, and sees Rye Mellark and the girl tribute, whose name she's already forgotten, shake hands. They're escorted off stage by peacekeepers and taken into the waiting rooms where they'll have exactly one hour to say goodbye to their friends and family... and to come to peace with the fact that they'll never come back home—alive anyway.

The crowd starts to disburse. The grieving families and friends begin to line up to say their goodbyes while everyone else celebrates the fact that they were spared and have another year to starve in the safety of their district.

Katniss doesn't move.

She can't stop thinking about Rye and his family sitting in that waiting room. Trying to cram a lifetime of affection into the 5 minutes that each group is allotted.

Oh Capital, She feels sick. She realizes then what she just did.

Her outburst may have been embarrassing, but she didn't regret it. She owes the boy with the bread; she owes him her life—her families life. She thought…she thought that by keeping him from volunteering she'd be repaying the debt. She'd be saving his life—which she regrettably believes is worth more than his brother's. If anyone in this district is deserving of anything in this horrific world, it's Peeta Mellark.

And Prim. Of course.

But saving his life is not what she did. She has instead given him five—five minutes with his brother. Five minutes to say goodbye or to apologize for letting the seam girl keep him from volunteering—keep him from saving his brother. She has condemned Peeta to having to watch his brother die in the most horrific of ways.

She knows she is not the one who reaped Rye; she's not the one forcing him to go to the Hunger Games, but she took away Peeta's only tool to fight back—to save his brother.

If Gale had done what she did, she'd never forgive him.

The square is emptying out. Katniss hears her little sister calling for her, and as she looks around, she locks eyes with Peeta Mellark. The look he gives her— dark, and confusing— only makes her feel more guilty about what she did.

She can only imagine that in this moment he hates her as much as she hates herself.

"Katniss!"

Katniss turns away from Peeta's dark look, "Hey little duck! I told you, you weren't going to get picked."

Prim nods her head causing her twin braids to swing back and forth; she looks so sweet and innocent then that Katniss is once more relieved that she wasn't reaped. Thank the Capital for small favors. Prim, however, is not as relieved as Katniss expected her to be. She avoids her older sister's eyes, staring at her old worn shoes.

"What's wrong?" Katniss tilts Prim's chin up and sees that her eyes are glossy.

"Nothing," Prim says, biting down on her lip, which is a clear sign that something is significantly bothering her. Then is occurs to her, "Do you know any of the tributes?"

Prim shakes her head, "No…but…"

"Oh Prim, come here." Katniss envelopes Prim in a hug. Katniss is not usually so affection in public, but this was Prim's first reaping. Prim is such a sweet, caring, and sensitive girl. Only she would be so affected by seeing two strangers reaped for the Hunger Games. Prim hasn't gotten this upset about it since she was six and realized that the Hunger Games was not just a fun Capital game.

When she realized that the players never got to come home.

Katniss supposes it's different when you're eligible for the Hunger Games; it has probably made Prim more empathetic. Most people develop a thick skin, and it becomes easier to ignore the Hunger Games. People can only be preoccupied with so many things, like themselves, their families, and their survivals. There's no room for anyone else. It's a waste of energy.

Prim certainly doesn't think so. But it's okay, her soft and compassionate nature are what Katniss loves the most about her little duck.

Prim looks down at her hand. "Can we give them this?" She holds out the Mockingjay pin. "To keep them safe." She says, mimicking her words from earlier.

Katniss looks unsure, "I don't know…there's only one pin, Prim. And two tributes."

"But it's mine, right? You gave it to me. I want them to have it—the boy. You know him, right?" Prim looks at her with large questioning eyes. Prim knows that she trades with the baker; she must assume that's how she knows him—the Mellark boy. The only Mellarks in the district are the bakers, so, of course, that's who Rye must be and of course, that's how she knows him, and of course she knows him because if she didn't why would she scream. Why would she yell out?

Katniss doesn't know him; she only met Rye today, and she's pretty sure that he doesn't even remember her name. But no matter how uncomfortable Katniss feels about it, she can't say no to Prim, not when her intentions are so pure. She nods her head. "Ok, I will."

"Katniss!" She hears Gale call from behind.

"Prim go with Gale and mom. I'll meet you at home, ok."

Prim nods her head, "Tell him I think he can win, okay." she says with an encouraging smile.

Katniss smiles and kisses her forehead. "I will little duck."

Katniss heads in the opposite direction from her family and Gale, towards the waiting rooms. She sees Gale give her a questioning look, with a twinge of a frown. She turns away in a hurry, not looking forward to the questions he's sure to ask.

The line is long when she gets there. There are a lot of people, both Seam and Merchant alike. Gale was right; Rye is a flirt. The majority of the people waiting for him are girls. A few boys wait in line too. Including the large Seam boy in front of her, who stands stoically with his hands folded over his chest

Wonder why he's here.

A group exists the waiting room.

It's Rye's family.

Katniss panics. How is she going to explain why she's in line? She just met the guy today.

Katniss tries to hide, keeps her eyes downcast, and tries to look invisible. She's good at that, looking invisible and fading into the background.

But it doesn't work. Rye's mother, the baker's witch of a wife, hones in on her. "YOU!" She screams, several feet in front of her husband and sons. Surprised at being spotted, Katniss is caught off guard at what happens next.

SLAP!

Everyone gasps.

"YOU FILTHY LITTLE SEAM BRAT! What gave you the right! I saw what you did! You should have kept your trap shut! You're the reason my baby is going to die!"

"Amara!" the baker screams "That's enough!" The baker wraps his arms around her, pulling her away from Katniss and everyone else in line. Their oldest helps in trying to drag his mother away.

"Let me go! Good for nothing! The whole lot of you!" She screams.

Katniss holds her cheek, stunned and a little ashamed of what just happened.

"She's a piece of work, isn't she?" She hears the boy in front of her say under his breath.

Katniss looks up at him, and that's when she spots him.

Peeta Mellark. Standing right in front of her.

"Sorry," he says. Like it's his fault for his mother's actions, his fault his brother is reaped, like he doesn't blame her for what she did. Sorry, that is the first thing Peeta has ever said to her, and she can't help but think about just how wrong that is. He's staring at her, with his large blue eyes. They're glossy and red; she can see the tear tracks on his cheeks.

"Here." He hands her a handkerchief, which looks wet, he probably dipped it in the nearby fountain before handing it to her. "For your cheek." Katniss doesn't take handouts, but she's not in a position to deny the boy whose life she's ruined, so she takes it. Besides, she wants the swelling to go down before she heads home. She already has enough to answer for without having to think up an explanation for her swollen cheek.

"Thanks." She mumbles, looking down.

Peeta begins to walk away before he turns around. "By the way, she wasn't talking to you guys... when she said good for nothing." He walks away again, head hung low, dragging his feet as he goes.

You guys?

"Poor boy." The Seam boy in front of her says. She turns to face him, "You know him?" she asks, curious as to why Peeta would address him.

The boy shrugs, "Sure. He's the baker's son. His brother just got reaped. What more is there to know." He turns back around, effectively cutting off any further conversation. Katniss frowns at him and presses the handkerchief closer to her cheek hoping to get rid of any red on her face. Slap or otherwise induced.

Fifteen minutes pass and Katniss is the last one in line. She nervously toys with the pin in her hand. She's beginning to second-guess her decision to give Rye the pin, mostly because it's such an out-of-the-blue thing for her to do. She's not sure how Rye will take it, or even if he'll accept her gift. Regardless, Katniss promised Prim she'd do this, so she has no choice but to follow through.

A minute later the doors open, and the stoic boy from early rushes out. She manages to see a few stray tears run down his face, and then he's gone. Marching away from the square toward the seam, shoulders tense. Katniss wonders who he is to Ryean, but before she can ponder it further, she's pushed into the waiting room.

"Five minutes." The peacekeeper barks out and then closes the door.

Katniss stand awkwardly in front of Rye, toying with the pin in her hand.

"Ash told me you were in line. I can't say I'm not surprised, but I'm glad you came."

Ash? She thinks, The seam boy from outside? "You are?" she asks, "Why?"

Rye laughs, then sniffs. His whole face is red, and his eyes are wet from fresh tears.

"Shouldn't I be asking that? Why'd you come Katniss?"

Katniss shrugs her shoulders before shoving her hand in front of his face. "Here. This is for you. From Prim."

Rye takes the pin and runs his thumb over it, admiring the pin. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"It's a Mockingjay."

"Mockingjay." Rye repeats.

"It's suppose to protect you—at least that what I told my sister. It could be your district token. If you don't have one that is."

"This was your sister's first reaping, right?"

Katniss nods her head confused as to how he knew that.

"Then I'll treasure it. Who knows? Maybe a Mockingjay will fly by and save me." He jokes.

Katniss doesn't find it funny. She doesn't find any of this funny.

"Thank you, Katniss."

"You said that already. Besides the pin isn't even mine."

"No. I'm thanking you for what you did in the square. Stopping Peeta. I know what he was going to do. Vounteer—I didn't want him to do that."

Katniss blushes, "I…I didn't…I mean that was not—"

"Peeta believes my life is worth more than his. Hell, Peeta thinks anybody's life is worth more than his." Rye says, interrupting her. He shakes his head, "It's not true. He's a great person, better than I'll ever be, but he doesn't see it. I tell him all the time how great he is, makes him blush like a school girl." He laughs. "Now that I'll be—" his voice chokes, "Now that I'll be…gone, I'm worried he won't hear it from anybody."

"That's not true," Katniss says, thinking about all the friends Peeta has, about his oldest brother, his kind father. Peeta has a lot of people; surely there are people who will remind him of how good a person he is. Surely there will be people who won't blame him for not volunteering for his brother.

Rye just stares at her.

Then she thinks about that welt on his cheekbone, the one his mother gave him five years ago. Then she thinks about what Peeta said to her outside.

"By the way, she wasn't talking to you guys when she said good for nothing."

The abuse the baker's wife impacts on her children is the worst kept secret in the district.

"Look, Katniss. I know it's not fair of me to ask. And you certainly don't have to do it, but... can you...can you please just keep an eye out for him. It may not look like it, but Peeta hurts a lot of the time—he just hides it well." Rye snorts, "I know it's dumb, it's not like he's in danger, or at risk to starve but…he's my little brother you know? I wish I could be the one keeping an eye out for him, but well," he gestures around to the room they're in, "You know."

Katniss bites her thumb. It is dumb. She has a family to feed, to look after. She has enough on her plate without adding another thing onto it. Especially a wealthy merchant, but she has a little sibling too. If she were in Rye's shoes, she'd ask Gale to do the same thing for Prim, even though he has a family to feed and take care of too.

Rye's request is even more heart reaching when thinks about the fact that, as little as she knows any of the Mellark's, he still choose to ask her to look after his baby brother. Peeta must truly have no one else.

"I'll do it." She nods. It's the least I can do, she thinks, I've robbed Peeta of you.

Rye nods. He pins her gift onto the breast pocket of his crisp white shirt.

"How do I look?" he laughs.

Katniss stares at him, and it's as if she's seeing him for the first time. He's tall, attractive, and strong. He came in first place in last year's wrestling tournament. He's also funny, charming, a giant flirt. The Capitol will love that.

But...

Katniss recalls what Prim said to her, "Tell him I think he can win." She wasn't going to tell him that, it's not really in Katniss's nature to lie, and she'd rather her last words to Rye not be a lie.

As she looks at him now, a foreign feeling beings to build inside her.

Hope.

"Like a victor." She says honestly.

Author's Note

OH! Will Rye be our next victor? Who knows?

I know! ;)

I had a reviewer telling me that they hope Rye survives, so tell me, does this ending reassure you or no?

Also, I want to give a GIANT THANK YOU to everyone that read, favorite, followed, and reviewed this story. Your kindness and interest in my story is a great motivation. I am deeply humbled! I hope you guys like my story so far and continue to like my story.

And as always critiques are welcomed—as long as you remain respectful.

See you guys soon!