A/N: A big thank you to my first reviewer Mattiboi! This chapter's for you! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or Ally's World.

Chapter Three

Hey! Let's Be Friends! (NOT . . .)

"You shouldn't have done it."

"Why?"

"Because it wasn't nice."

"Why?"

"Because you scared her."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

You don't know how hard it is to have a sensible conversation with Cherry sometimes. She's a girl of little words and it gets frustrating trying to read between the lines all the time. "Why was she scared of them?" she asked.

"Because when Madge said she'd like to see then," Rye explained, as he passed Cherry her plate, "she didn't think you were going to put the stick insects on her head."

Earlier in the afternoon, Wayne, Cato and I were still trying to figure out the best way to remove Cherry's addition to the household from Madge's hair-with Cherry herself anxiously watching and wailing about the poor stick insects-when Rye came back from the corner shop. Thankfully, the insects were okay but he came back with the idea of wafting a lettuce leaf over Madge's trembling head. This enticed them away from the Head and Shoulders bathed hair and up into the safety of the much healthier option.

Now Cherry's tea sat in front of her, but she blinked at it and said nothing. You could tell that she was definitely disappointed with Madge's reaction.

She's always been deeply suspicious of anyone who doesn't display 100% adoration for animals, as if they were crazy mutants who didn't know the nicer things in life. And Madge's reaction on her way to the loo to show off new pets, the last thing she'd expected was for her to act like she did. There was only one exception to this: Our grandma. Cherry loves our grandma as much as she loves animals.

"Rye, what is this?" Wayne demanded, staring at his plate, horrified by its contents.

"Remember Dad said we should eat more fish?" Rye asked. He looked hurt, but I wasn't sure why. Wayne always had a pop at his efforts every time it's Rye's turn to cook so you'd think he was used to it by now. Wayne, Rye, myself and Dad take turns cooking at the weekend (with the exception of Cherry, obviously as we'd end up eating tuna and Hula Hopps). Grandma comes around during the week to cook for us, since us guys are, ahem, busy with our homework.

"Sure, we can eat more fish. But what is this?"

Wayne wasn't being very nice-if I'm honest-the dinner wasn't very nice either. Potato waffles, coleslaw and . . . are they kippers? I rest my case.

"The fish shop was busy and got a bit flustered so I just pointed to the nearest thing when it was my turn!" Rye exclaimed.

If you ask me, he probably got flustered because of the cute girl who works there on Saturdays.

"I'm sure it'll be lovely," said dad. Ah, ever the diplomat. "Thanks Rye."

Rye grinned gratefully and reached over for the ketchup. Good plan, smothering everything in the stuff might just be the only way we're going to be able to get through this.

"So, dad," Wayne said as he gingerly picked at his food. "I was thinking, since it's your birthday soon, and since last year we all went out for pizza, why don't we just stay at home and cook something special here?"

"Will Rye make it?" Cherry asked in a panic.

"No, it's okay," Wayne assured her. Rye pulled a face and rolled his eyes.

My heart sank-I knew what Wayne was up to. As far as he was concerned, the surprise party was the holy grail of birthday ideas. And making sure dad was out of the house was phase one of setting it in motion.

"Stay home? Fine by me," shrugged dad. "You guys know I don't like a fuss."

See? I wanted to yell at Wayne, he doesn't like a fuss!

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't a surprise party a fuss?

"On the topic of fuss, poor Madge," laughed dad. "She must have been so embarrassed today."

He was right there. Poor Madge. She's a total sweet pea-you'll never find anyone more trusting or kind-but on a scale of one-to-ten shyness, Madge is a nine and a half-which mades me kind of protective of her. She was so horrified by the stick insect mishap, she just spent the whole Nicole Kidman movie quietly groaning to herself and everytime I paused and asked if she was okay, she said she was fine. Put it this way, she kept covering her face with her hands, she must have missed three quarters of the film.

"Yeah, she was embarrassed," I nodded, wincing for her. I mean I wouldn't exactly like to have someone cool like Cato seeing me in such a total state.

"I can't blame her," dad continued. "Being stuck in a rom with everyone staring at you, and only you-that's my idea of a nightmare."

My hand froze as I lifted a forkful of fish to my mouth (any excuse not to consume) and threw a glance over at Wayne. He'd gone rigid too. I flicked my eyes to dad who oblviously gave me the smallest of winks. Did he know? Had he overheard? Was he psychic? Or was that just a weird fluke? A twitch maybe? I didn't know and I didn't care. What I did know was that the stupid surprise party idea was down the tubes, thank god.

Long live the next idea.

Whatever that was.

~xXx~

I was thumping down the road on my way to school, waiting for the usual, "Peeeetttaaa! Wait for meeeeee!" from Madge, but it didn't come. We never plan to meet, hence her straggling to catch up all time. My brothers go to Palace Gates too, but we all go out of our way not to walk together.

I suppose I should have been doing something constructive, like coming up with a out of this world oh-my-god-Peeta-you're-a-genius present for dad or maybe trying to figure out what I had forgotten. But instead I was thinking about Cato.

More specifically, I was thinking for the millionth time how Wayne could honestly be Just Good Friends with someone as omigod beautiful as him. How can he not just want to jump him?

I should explain. You know how I said earlier that Rye wasn't gay, he was just feminine? It is actually the most ironic thing ever, since he is the only straight Mellark son in the mix. Wayne came out when he was fifteen and I hadn't realized that I had to come out until about a year ago. I thought that people would just know. I didn't know I would have to inform people on my sexual preference.

But with the whole Cato and Wayne thing, it's not that I think two gay (that's right, Cato's in the same boat as us) guys can't be friends. Of course they can. But . . . it's Cato Hadley for god's sake. I don't know how Wayne can't see the obvious gorgeous meter going off the scale.

Anyway, I entered the yard into the Palace Gates comp and through the main entrance, I was feeling pretty good about my Cato-centered daydreams, even though it was Monday morning and I had five days of brain melting school in front of me.

And there were still five minutes until the first bell until my freedom was gone for the rest of the week. Five minutes to hog a radiator and continue my daydreams.

Or maybe not.

"Peeta, can I have a word please?"

Mrs Coin, our Year Head. We were told that we were supposed to look at Mrs Coin as a friend but, come on, the woman was in her fifties. I wasn't going to go to her with my problems as if she were Katniss or Madge.

My good mood disappeared as I did as I was told and silently followed her along the corridor to her office. "This," she said, sweeping her door open and wafting her hand impatiently at someone sitting in a chair, "is Delly Cartwright. And this-" she pointed at me-"is Peeta Mellark. Peeta, Delly has just joined us and is going to be in your form class. Therefore I've decided to assign you to look after her for the week. Show her around and things. Okay?"

Okay? I guess it was. At least I wasn't in trouble, I just had to babysit.

I wasn't sure if I liked her.

Delly Cartwright was slouched in her seat. She was loudly chewing gum, so her jaw moved in that annoying way that caused her saliva to smack together. She was sizing me up, like she was trying to guess my height and weight just by staring at me. I tried to stare back at her but bottled out almost immediately.

She was annoyingly pretty. But her hair was pulled back into one of those-and I don't mean to sound bitchy-chavy top knots. And she had this really arrogant manner.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Mrs Coin. "The bell just went. You'll be late for History, if you don't hurry!"

"Thank you sooo much, Mrs Coin," Delly drawled languidly, standing up and blasting a bare teeth smile at our Head of Year.

"Goodbye, Delly," said Mrs Coin. She then shut the door tight behind us.

"What a frigid old cow!"

I couldn't believe Delly had the nerve to proclaim something so loudly and right outside Mrs Coin's door. I also couldn't believe I suddenly wanted to defend Mrs Coin. "She's all right," I said. I started walking in the direction of History and assumed Delly would follow.

"Not from where I was standing," Delly snorted. Maybe with someone else I would have agreed with her but Delly's cockiness bugged me. She hadn't even been here five minutes and she was already mouthing off.

"So when did you arrive in 12, then?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Last week," she replied, yawning.

Yawning? Was I boring her already?

"Do you like it?"

"Don't know. It's a bit boring. I told my parents we should have moved to 1 but nooo, they wanted to move to 12."

"Oh?" I answered through gritted teeth.

I know it's crazy but I really love where I live. And I'm very defensive of it too.

"Yeah-1 is much more happening that this place."

I couldn't speak for a second, I was too annoyed. I was trying, I'm not into being rude. Even if Delly was. "So whereabouts you living?"

"North of the Merchant Square. The house we're in is a pit."

A pit? The North of Merchant Square was what the estate agents go poetic over. It's luxurious and desriable etc. etc. How spoilt was this girl? "Uh-huh. So where did you live before?"

"District 10."

"Oh, I know that place, I went there when I was little." I loved District 10. Mum and dad took Wayne, Rye and I (Cherry wasn't born yet) to a little farm there. I can still remember the smell of freshly cut grass and the harmonious bleeting of the baby animals. I even got to milk a cow. It so fun, I want to go back some day when I'm older.

"It's a total dump, isn't it?"

"I thought it was nice," I found myself mumbling. Maybe she just wasn't into country life . . .

"Boring as hell," Delly sighed.

"Why did you move?" I asked.

"We move a lot," she yawned again. "We get around. My dad's an assistant bank manager."

"And your mum?" I asked, eyeing up the approaching doorway.

Delly grinned. "She's a professional drinker."

Wait, what? I looked at Delly in shock. "Only joking," she sniggered.

What a horrible thing to joke about, I frowned to myself. But then I guess I'm pretty super-sensitive when it comes to stuff to do with mums.

Everyone was drifting into class, shuffling as slowly as possible to drag out the time it took to get in. Over by the window, Madge was already sitting in her seat; she shot me a quizzical expression. From the back of the room, I could see Glimmer and Marvel, wondering what the deal was.

"Hello Peeta. This must be Delly?" asked Miss Paylor.

"That's me!" Delly trilled. I winced. Muck around with Mrs Coin, fine, but not Miss Paylor. She was too nice and sincere to be messed around with. She's my favourite teacher.

"Right, let's see . . . Do you want to sit yourself here for a moment? I'll come and chat with you in a second?"

With an almighty sigh, Delly flopped down into the seat at the desk that had been pointed out to her.

Miss Paylor gave me one of those looks that like my dad's the night before, could have meant something and then again might not. But her expression seemed to say, "She's going to be a pain, isn't she?"

But that was me guessing.

"So Peeta, I was just in the middle of asking Madge how you're doing with your project."

Our project . . .

Oh. My. God.

You know that thing I'd forgotten?

Yeah, it wasn't forgotten anymore . . .

A/N: Please read and review with your thoughts? :-)