I am so sorry for the delay in update. Real life is being a bitch.


Six thirty comes too quickly and I'm still fighting off sleep by the time I arrive at District 12 National Park. There are a few cars scattered throughout the parking lot but nobody in sight. I choose one of the main paths in hopes to find someone to direct me to where the hell I'm supposed to be.

The path that I'm on goes through a small set of trees before spilling out into a large clearing. Small cabins line the far side of the trees leaving the middle empty. Heads of people dot the center of the clearing, all wearing bright yellow shirts with black writing scribbled across the chest and back. I obviously missed the memo onto the choice of fashion statement.

The further I walk, the more I'm able to make out who the heads belong to and what the yellow tee shirts say. Last names; some of them I know, others are foreign. My leg begins to hurt but I press on until I reach the center of the empty field where an older man with closely cropped graying hair eyes stands with a clipboard.

"Uh," I clear my throat to get his attention. "I'm Peeta Mellark."

"Ah yes. Our very own teenage delinquent," the man says without looking up from the clipboard. My name is on it and he puts a checkmark next to it.

"Yeah, sure," I say bitterly. "What do you want me to do?"

"Make yourself useful."

"How?"

"Do I need to hold your hand?" He waits for an answer so I shake my head no. "That's what I thought. The rest of them are setting up, go find someone that looks like that need a hand."

I look out and immediately I see her; Katniss Everdeen, the girl that makes me feel like I'm on fire. I divert my gaze quickly and see a kid named Anthony Marvel, who only answers to his surname, working a few feet away on setting up the parameters of a soccer field. I make my way over to him since he's alone.

"Need any help?" I call out to him.

Marvel looks up and seems surprised to see me. This isn't exactly the type of setting I'd be seen in willingly, my reputation doesn't scream volunteer.

"Hey Mellark," he waves. "I didn't know you were the volunteer type."

"Heard it looks to on college applications, trying to get into Yale you know," I grin.

"I think you'd need to cure cancer and make peace with an Alien race to qualify for Yale," Marvel jokes back.

"That's next on my list."

"Well then, don't let me stop you from your dreams. You can start putting up cones," Marvel threw me a few cones stacked together before returning to the outline he was drawing on the grass.

I set up cones according to what a soccer field is supposed to look like so Marvel can easily follow it. By the time I'm done, the sun is already tinging my pale skin a baby pink color. I hadn't even thought to use sun block and I'm going to regret it come tomorrow.

My tee shirt is already soaked in sweat and caked with dirt by noon, and by one I've taken it off much as the rest of the guys. Some of the girls have stripped down to their tank tops, Katniss hasn't. She's still wearing the yellow tee shirt with Everdeen marked across the back of her shoulders. She's moved away from the group and now is working her way through the small gathering of trees to where another much smaller opening of grass is; this is where the archery station is. Go figure Katniss is in charge of the bow and arrows. She makes Robin Hood look like some sort of amateur child with a toy. I remember freshman year, we had gym together and everyone including me stared in awe as she knocked the arrow and let it soar right into the bullseye without much of a second thought. The gym teacher later had later begged her to join the track and field archery team because the only other person that was half as decent as Katniss was Gale Hawthorne and everyone was desperate for a win.

That's when Hawthorne became my sworn enemy. Not that anyone knows how much I hate him, or even that I have a legitimate excuse to even hate the guy. It's just that ever since Katniss joined the team, her and stupid Gale have been glued at the hip. They are together constantly and it's annoying. It doesn't help that Gale is tall, dark and broody; making all the girls swoon over him. Why couldn't he take interest in one of the dozen that form his fan base and not the one I'm in love with.

Yes, I'm in love with Katniss Everdeen. No, I haven't had more than a thirty second conversation with her in the entire thirteen years of knowing her name. The only time we've even made contact with each other was when her father passed away when we were thirteen and my brother and I delivered cookies to her father's wake and I muttered my apologies and she bit back that it wasn't my fault and for the rest of the transaction I kept my eyes glued to the floor because I didn't want to upset Katniss any further.

"Hey Mellark," I look up to see the military hair cut guy walking my way. "Ms. Trinket says that you can cook and you've got some sort of talent with a paintbrush, is that correct."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Since we're a little short staffed this year you'll be doing both. In the morning you'll work the arts and crafts table with Glimmer Abrams then around ten you'll leave and start preparing lunches. Once lunch is served and you've cleaned up and prepped for the next day's lunch, you'll go back to the arts and crafts table. Understood?"

I nod my head. "Will anyone help me with lunch?"

"Uh yeah," he takes a look at the clipboard, "Darius Avvoy and Katniss Everdeen."

My stomach drops into my lower intestines when he says Katniss' name. Part of me is ecstatic that I'll get to spend my entire summer working with her, because that's what I wanted right? But then the other part of me is scared shitless. I've completely built this image of Katniss up in my mind and what if everything I've thought about her is wrong. Or even worse what if she hates me because I'm just some dumb delinquent that thought working at a summer camp was the easier solution compared to picking up trash on the side of the road or jail time?

"Why don't you go help them with the list of stuff we'll need at the store?" the man suggests.

I head towards the largest cabin labelled canteen. I spot Katniss and some guy with a mess of bright red hair sitting at a table with their heads together. They look up at me and I pause momentarily in the doorway.

"Buzzcut told me that I'd be doing lunches."

"His name is Boggs," Katniss corrected me making my heart flutter. "We were just coming up with the lunch menu."

I safely take a seat next to Darius, I recognize him. He's a year younger than Katniss and I, but we were in a few of the same classes before I turned eighteen and came up with the brilliant idea of dropping out.

"We've got the basics, like peanut butter and jelly, hamburgers, hot dogs, sloppy joes. Anything that isn't too hard to cook. Do you know your way around a kitchen because we don't?" Darius asks.

"My family owns the town bakery; yes I know how to work an oven."

"No need to be rude about it. Just because you have the same last name as the name on the bakery door, doesn't make you a baker," Katniss sneers.

Shit my fears are becoming true. I'm just some stupid thug in her book. "Sorry," it comes out more sarcastically than I planned. "Put spaghetti and meatballs as well as pulled pork. We should have a salad option for those who don't eat meat and are allergic to nuts."

"We didn't even think about food allergies. We would have been screwed," Darius grins and begins to add to the grocery list. "Hey do you own a car?"

"Yeah why?"

"I don't have my own car and all Katniss has is a jeep and we need something bigger to go to the store to buy this stuff."

"That's fine. Are we getting the stuff today?"

"Nah, probably the Friday before the kids come," Darius answers and I nod. "But we got to get the kitchen in some sort of working order before then. It looks like some sort of sludge explosion went off in there."

I nod again. Katniss pockets the list and stands from the table only to push through the wing door that I assume leads to the kitchen. Darius follows Katniss obediently without a word and ushers for me to join them. Darius was right; it does look like an explosion happened. The walls and everything else have a thick layer of grease on it. It's disgusting and probably breaks every single health code violation and then some, but I don't focus on that. Instead my eyes hone in to Katniss finally discarding her sweaty yellow shirt, leaving behind a tight, white tank top that leaves little to the imagination. You can perfectly see her orange bra through the top and immediately all my blood rushes south, leaving me light headed and completely turned on.

"Grab a bucket; we've got cleaning to do," she throws a pair of gloves my way.

I'm wounded by how little Katniss thinks of me. She doesn't even know me yet she's giving me the third degree as if I'm a convicted felon. Well I am a convicted felon but only for petty crimes like stealing and breaking and entering and obstruction of private property. I'm not a bad guy.

I refuse to spend the entire summer with Katniss thinking that I am. One good thing that has come from spending all my time with Finnick is that I've caught on how to persuade people. And I'll be damned if I can't convince Katniss that I only have the best intentions.