She should have said no. Should have turned this idea down right away and laughed in Delly's face. Demanded that they get the divorce papers immediately. Not let Peeta leave her sight until she could be sure he signed them. Why did she agree to this?

Because you're weak, a voice in her head says, and she tries to keep her hands from trembling as she puts her mascara on.You'd rather go with someone you hate than go alone. And you'd rather lie than let your sister know how horrible you are.

Well. She doesn't hate him, exactly. Maybe he was having a bad day when she met him that morning. She certainly was. And for another, she's not that scared of going alone – right? That's not even to mention the fact that Prim can find out about what's happened someday. Long after the wedding. Or . . . something like that. Hopefully never, if they get this annulled.

Which they will. It's just a matter of sooner or later. Peeta wants later, clearly, but she wants – badly – for it to be sooner.

Either way, he'll be at her apartment in a few minutes to pick her up. And she needs to be ready. Even though it feels strange, letting him. Letting him see where she lives. It's a mess. Her soon-to-be-ex-roommate has been trying to pack up and has practically trashed the place in her attempt.

She shakes her hair out, making sure the curls rest right. It'll be in some fancy updo tomorrow. Prim hired a stylist for the wedding. A woman named Venia with white-blue hair and eyebrows plucked thin and drawn back on, high enough to make her look perpetually surprised. But tonight, she's on her own. And wearing the same black dress that she wore to meet Delly in, because, okay, it's sort of the nicest thing that she owns.

Save for the soft orange taffeta bridesmaids dress that she's supposed to wear tomorrow. But she's not looking forward to wearing that – and it's clearly not an option for tonight anyway.

PEETA MELLARK: 4:47 PM:I'm almost to your place.
PEETA MELLARK: 4:47 PM: are you sure I don't need to bring anything?

She types and erases her message a few times before she hits send.

4:49 PM: No need to bring anything. It's a rehearsal dinner, not a potluck.

PEETA MELLARK: 4:58 PM: And she's funny, too. I'm in your driveway. Be right up.

She hasn't put her heels on by the time he knocks at the door – it's exactly five. He's prompt, at least – and he smirks at the sight of the shoes in her hands. Actually smirks. Damn him.

"Oh, no," he says, looking her up and down. "You aren't gonna run again, are you?" he asks.

"Funny," she says drily. "You want to come in? I'll just be another minute."

He nods, thanking her and stepping inside. She feels self conscious, suddenly, with him looking around her place. If his hotel room was any indication, he'll be used to something fancier, and her place is kind of a mess.

Not that she had tried to clean for him. She's pretty certain that would be lame. She waits for some sort of snide comment, about the size or sit being cozy or something, but nothing comes. She sits down on the edge of the couch and works to buckle her shoe. She's not liking these heels. The fastens are too small to deal with easily. Especially when she can tell that he's staring at her.

"What's our story, Wishbone?" he asks, and he sounds almost playful. It's weird. She didn't really expect for him to be the joking type.

"What?"

"Our story," he says. "Unless you just don't get the Wishbone reference. If that's the case then, god, you had no idea what I meant when I asked if you were too young."

"I got the reference," she says, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. If he thinks she's immature or whatever, eye rolling won't help her case.

Not that it matters what he thinks of her.

"Well, personally, I think that we should tell them that we're just dating. Maybe we can elope in a few weeks, but unless we're trying to ruin the happiest day of your sister's life, then we might want to –"

"The rehearsal dinner isn't the happiest day of her life," Katniss corrects, because she can and he's so pretentious that he just begs to be knocked down a peg.

"Whatever. You know what I mean," Peeta says. "And before I forget – this is for you."

"What is?" she asks. He's digging around in his pocket.

"Token of our love," he says, producing a little black jewelry box. It's too big to be a ring. She can't help but to be curious when she opens it.

It's a necklace. One single pearl in a setting that looks like white gold.

"What?" she asks. "No. I can't accept this."

"Good. It's a loaner," he says, pulling the necklace out of the crushed velvet lining of the box and motioning for her to turn around. Then it's quiet for a long moment as they stay locked in a staring contest. "Of course, if you agree to this . . . gifts like this? Just the tip of the iceberg."

The tip of the iceberg. "I'm not agreeing yet," she reminds him. "This doesn't mean anything."

"I know, I know. Turn around." She does, and he brushes her hair away from her neck. His fingers work quickly to secure the necklace, and she realizes that she knows what he's doing. At least she won't have to worry about him being unconvincing this evening. The man knows how to have girlfriend. "Delly warned me already," he says. "Said that if I put one toe out of line, I'm going to blow the whole thing."

"There isn't a whole thing to blow yet," she grumbles, her hand coming up to touch the necklace out of curiosity. It doesn't seem like it's necessary, wearing the thing, but if he wants to dress her up, she supposes she can let him. If he has to be on his best behavior tonight, she may as well try to let him.

"I know," he says, and sounds surprisingly honest. "Look, I'm trying to fix that. I know I didn't make the best first impression. So what's our story, Katniss? How did we meet?"

"I don't know," she says because she has no idea what he's even trying to ask."Maybe you . . . rear ended me? And we exchanged numbers for insurance, but –"

"No."

She crosses her arms and stands up, moving over to go get her bag. "Fine. What's your idea, then?"

"I was hoping you'd ask that," he says, stretching his arm along the length of the couch. He looks so much . . . bigger than the old, hand-me-down thing that was her aunt's before it was ever even in her parents' house. Like he's on a different level, almost. And yet there e is, making himself comfortable.

It's strange, him reclining like he belongs there. "See, that was an admirable attempt. But I've been thinking about this a little longer than you have, clearly – and honestly, if we can avoid rumors about me being a bad driver, I think that's what we ought to do – so I practically have this worked out."

"Why did you even ask, then?" she asks.

He doesn't answer. Just gives her a smile. "You know your music, right? If you work for Heavensbee?"

She nods. "I guess so."

"Then we'll say that I went in to a record store downtown to buy a birthday gift for a friend of mine, and you gave me a terrible recommendation. But I, of course, was able to overlook your horrible taste in music –"

"Give me a break," she says. "How about we say we just met there?"

"If you want to take all of the drama out of it, then sure, we'll go with that," he says coolly. "But we've got to have details, Katniss. Or else they're never going to buy it."

Details. She rolls her eyes. "It doesn't have to be huge thing. People meet. They date."

"But," he stands up, crosses the room, and stands in front of her, head dipped down just slightly closer to her than is completely necessary, "do they fall so deeply in love that elope within a matter of weeks?" he asks, and his voice lowers as he reaches out to straighten her necklace. "That they'd rather die than live without each other, for even the amount of time it would take to plan a proper wedding?"

A shiver runs through her, maybe not so much at the words but at the intensity of them. He believes what he's saying. Or he's a very good liar, and he wants her to believe what he's saying. She's not sure which.

"Think about it, Katniss," he says, stepping back, just a little bit, and running a hand through his hair. .

She nods even though she's not sure what she's supposed to be thinking about.

"Should we get going?" he asks, glancing over at the clock on the microwave. "I'd hate to make you late."

"Who is this?" her mother asks, no doubt noticing the way Peeta is glued to her arm.

"My boyfriend," Katniss says, the lie coming far too easily. "Peeta Mellark."

"The senator's son?" her father asks.

Peeta chuckles politely. "Well, if things go our way in the upcoming election, maybe I'll be the politician of the family in my own right."

"Honey," Katniss says, much too sweetly. "Is now really the time to work on your campaign?"

"You're right, sweetheart. I'm sorry, Mr. Everdeen," Peeta says with a charming smile. "They have me running lines so often now, it's getting sort of hard to turn it off."

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Especially when her father claps Peeta on the back and says not to worry about it.

"That's a lovely necklace, Katniss," her mother says.

"Thank you," Katniss says. "It was a gift."

Peeta smiles. "I just thought it screamed Katniss. How could I pass that up?" he asks. "It's so beautiful against her skin."

"That's very generous of you," Mrs. Everdeen says. "I'm impressed she's wearing it. She never was much for jewelry."

Peeta smiles. "A girl like Katniss, well, you just have to find the right fit."

Her parents exchange a look, and she just knows that it's because they think he's romantic. A girl like Katniss. A girl like Katniss. What does that mean? Surely Peeta doesn't know, but it still confuses her, the way her parents seem to understand it.

"I've got to ask you, Peeta," her mother begins good-naturedly. "What have you done with our Katniss? She's never been the type for romance."

"It's like I said," Peeta says, wrapping an arm around Katniss' shoulders. "Gotta find the right fit."

"We'll need to have you over sometime," her mother says.

"Oh, that sounds lovely," Peeta says. "What was that meal you were telling me you liked so much, Katniss?"

"Stew," she answers.

"That's right!" he says, snapping his fingers. "I've heard incredible things about your stew."

Maybe it should bother her, how easily Peeta lies. But for now, it's just fascinating. "There's Prim and Rory," she says, nodding to the couple across the room. "Come with me. I'll introduce you."

"I've heard a lot about you," Peeta says.

"You have?" Prim asks, and then her eyes dart over to Katniss accusatorily. "I'm sorry to say it, but I haven't heard much about you."

He takes it kindly enough, being very nice to both of them, offering congratulations and saying that they're a beautiful couple. And then, as they walk away, he leans over towards Katniss and murmurs, "My, they are getting married young, aren't they?"

"At least they're sober," she snaps back, feeling protective. Peeta wraps an arm around her shoulder, the move almost comforting.

"Don't be like that, Katniss," he says. "I'm trying, but if we're going to make this work, well . . . you're going to have to give me the chance to win you over, aren't you?"

She doesn't answer.

"I am trying," he insists. "I know I made a horrible first impression. I want to fix that. And they're watching, so laugh, as if I've just said something very funny."

"What?" she asks.

"They're watching. Do you want to be asked about trouble in paradise so soon? I mean, if you want that to be part of our story, sure. But it may not work so well."

It's sort of hard, wiping the scowl from her face long enough to throw her head back in laughter that probably looks completely fake. She even swats at his arm for emphasis. When he smiles, it looks genuine.

"There you go," he says. "We make a good team."

Is that what they are? A team?

He keeps hold of her all night, other than when they can't be together, like when she has to practice walking down the aisle. But even then, he's shooting her supportive looks and even a thumbs up at one point.

She doesn't mean for it to make her smile. But the gesture is . . . sweet, and so unlike anything that she expected Peeta to be, based on that first meeting. Maybe he's not so bad, she thinks. Is that why Delly thought I could do this?

He charms everyone. Her parents, her sister and soon to be brother-in-law. All of the Hawthornes, including Gale. She had thought t might be a problem, bringing a date after she broke up with Gale on the grounds of not liking to have a boyfriend, but if he cares about the mixed message all these years later, he doesn't show it.

When Madge suggests that they should double sometime. She's surprised to hear Peeta agree enthusiastically. She's not at all interested in a double date, especially not with Gale and Madge. But, if it's like he said and he wants to make a good impression, maybe he thinks that this is the way to do it. She'll have to ask him not to agree to any more dates without her approval.

Of course, they won't really be held accountable for double dates when they break up.

Prim seems to be much more pleased with Katniss tonight. Maybe just because Katniss and Peeta are being quiet and trying to not steal her spotlight. Either way, when she comes and plops down beside Katniss, it isn't entirely awkward.

"It's tomorrow!" Katniss says, poking her sister in the side. "Are you excited?"

Prim giggles, sounding much younger than she is. "Excited. I also kind of can't believe this really happening."

"It was a long time in the making," Katniss agrees, and Peeta's leg nudges hers under the table. As if he's reminding her of their conversation earlier, about them being young. But a rush of something she can't place shoots through her, leaving her feeling strange and almost fidgety.

"Your nails look great."

"Thank you," Prim says, tapping them against the table. "Rue and I went together and – oh. Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Katniss says, resisting the urge to pick at the chipped polish on her fingers. She'll have to fix that tonight in case the photographer wants some kind of close up on her hands. To, like, brag that her sister got married before she did or something. "I'm glad you had fun, Duck."

"Duck?" Peeta asks. "You guys have the weirdest nicknames."

Prim laughs, and Katniss just knows that she's a goner. Peeta has completely and totally won her over."It's a long story," her sister says. "Maybe Katniss can tell you sometime."

"I'll look forward to it," he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close. "Maybe you can tell me about Catnip, too."

She laughs. Something about the thought of Peeta knowing about Gale's nickname for her is wrong. She's not sure why, just that it is. It's as if they don't belong together – just like the thought of seeing him on the couch in her apartment – and yet they are, sitting at the same table.

"Good luck getting her to admit to mumbling, man," Gale says.

Damn you, Gale, she thinks. This is going to be hard to get out of explaining if Peeta already knows too much.

"Are you going to be Katniss' plus one tomorrow?" Prim asks innocently.

"Well, that's up to your sister," Peeta says. "I don't want to be a wedding crasher."

"Katniss!" Prim seems scandalized at the thought of him not being invited. "You brought him to the rehearsal dinner and you haven't even promised he could come to the wedding? That's not right!"

Katniss forces a smile. It's a struggle to not roll her eyes. "We're thinking about it. I wasn't sure what you would think about me inviting a stranger."

"He's held his own so far," she says. "If you don't invite him, I'll slip him an invitation under the table."

Peeta laughs. "Thank you, Prim. Just in case I don't see you tomorrow, though, I'm sure that you'll be a beautiful bride."

Later that night, when things are cleaned up, Prim hugs Katniss tightly and hisses more than whispers invite him into her ear.

He walks her to her door, like a gentleman, and she thanks him, reaching up to fumble with the clasp of the necklace. He looks almost like he's going to protest, but then thinks better of it, holding his hand out for her to drop the necklace into.

"I hope I didn't come on too strongly," he says, sounding sincere. "I want this to work. Really badly. And, um, I'm usually better than I was that first morning. But . . . well, I was caught way off guard, and that's no excuse, but still."

She nods. "No. Not too strongly."

"Good," he says. "I really want to see you again, Katniss. Get to know you better."

She bites her bottom lip.

"And I know you didn't seem completely comfortable with the thought of me crashing your baby sister's wedding, but maybe we could get together some other time?" he asks.

Maybe it's not completely because of Prim's insistence that she invites him, but she can't help herself.

"I have to be at the venue way early tomorrow," she says. "So, if you want to meet me there when the ceremony starts –"

"No. I'll bring you," he says. "If that's okay, I mean. I liked your family."

"Okay. I mean, you might be the first to like them, but if you want to bring me, that would be okay."

He grins. "Are you sure?"

"Well, I'm not sure if my sister will ever forgive me if I don't bring you to the wedding. But I won't be very good company. I'll be up on the stage."

"That suits me just fine," he says. "I'll hold your bag."

She nods, and then thinks of something else. "This doesn't count as me . . . agreeing to . . . whatever this would be. Does it?"

"No," he says.

"I can still back out?"

He nods. "You can still back out. There's not a point of no return, Katniss. I don't know what I'm doing, either."

"Okay. Well then, if you'd like to be my date to the wedding . . . I guess I could allow it."

He's back at her apartment in more than enough time for the wedding. She's just barely managed to get into the bridesmaid dress – it's above the knee and, of all colors, orange. Rue's is long, but Prim claims Katniss can wear the dress again, so she got the better end of the deal. Right.

"Hey there," he says. "That's a pretty dress."

"Prim's choice," she says, because he might be sarcastic and she doesn't want him to think that she likes this atrocity. "It's not like I had the right to complain."

"It looks good on you," he insists. "But I wish you'd have told me that it was going to be orange. We could have coordinated."

She sort of smiles. "Not unless you wanted to look like one of the groomsmen."

He looks almost too nice, she thinks. He might be confused for the groom, with that fancy suit. "I didn't know the dress code," he says, clearly noticing the way that she's staring. "I thought . . . well, Mom always taught us that it was better to be overdressed than underdressed."

She nods. So he just has a fancy suit sitting around. "Well. You're not going to make it any easier on me to get rid of you if my whole family thinks you're so . . . sophisticated."

He leans in much closer than is entirely necessary, and she stiffens until she realizes that it's so that he can reach behind her and secure the pearl necklace. "Sorry, Katniss, but that's not exactly going to discourage me."

She lets out a little tiny sigh when he pulls away. Hadn't she resolved to hate him that first morning? What's happening to her?

He's pleasant all day long, holding her bag, her flowers, even her shoes at one point, when she has to switch her pantyhose for a pair without a snag in them. He cracks jokes with Gale and Rory and Vick, and is overwhelmingly gentle with Posy, who does nothing at all to conceal the fact that she thinks he's cute.

She must. Because she's not generally shy, and she's giggling at everything Peeta has to say. Katniss can't help but to feel sympathetic. He's turning Katniss into a mess, too.

"You really do look lovely," he says.

"Thank you," she says. "It's all on Prim. She dictated everything down to my lip gloss."

He laughs. "I'm amazed she's so calm about it. I swear, I got chewed out for wearing the wrong color tie to Rye's wedding.

He must notice the vacant expression she gives him. Who is Rye? He laughs.

"It's weird. My sister is law is normally so lovely, but she just . . . doesn't deal well under pressure."

"Were you a groomsman?" Vick asks, pulling at his bowtie. Katniss wonders if he'll be able to keep his hands off of it during the ceremony. Probably not.

"Best man," Peeta says proudly. "That's you, right?"

Vick lets go of his bowtie and grins. "Yep! I beat Gale."

"It's not a competition," Gale says. "You just had more time."

"Riight," Vick says. "I'm Rory's favorite."

"I think that's enough," Gale says, shooting Katniss a look that's almost sympathetic.

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "Vick threw all the parties leading up to the wedding. All of that on top of college applications. I'm impressed."

"It is impressive!" Peeta says. "Where are you applying?"

They talk about college choices for a good long while. Peeta has a lot to say about how important college is. How they were some of the best days of his life.

"College is very important," Peeta says, and his eyes drift over to Katniss. He's thinking about what Delly offered, then, too. It might have even been his idea, if he thinks it's that important. She's not sure.

"Vick is gonna be great," Katniss says. "He's known what he wanted to do since he was little."

Vick looks flattered, really. Peeta leans forward a little bit, and they talk about college choices. Katniss wonders if he knows that it's a community college he'll be paying for when he talks about the fancy school that he went to.

Just like during the rehearsal, Peeta watches her from the audience. It's strange, how his eyes are trained on her, but it doesn't hurt. She's supposed to be focusing on something other than locking her knees – the official had warned them about the danger there. About how she could faint.

Prim joked that she wouldn't like that, the ceremony being derailed because of one of her bridesmaids fainting. She was talking to Rue, of course, but Katniss knew that it applied to her, too. Either way, it doesn't hurt having Peeta for . . . what, exactly? Not quite an ally, but maybe a focal point.

The ceremony goes off without incident. Though, really, Katniss feels a little smug when it takes Rue a moment too long to come up with the ring. She wouldn't have misplaced it. Not for even a second. But, big sisters aren't maids of honor, apparently.

The vows themselves are beautiful. Handwritten and personalized – no thanks to Katniss, of course. When Prim had asked someone for help, it was Rue. Even though Katniss was the one to set the both of them up. In a completely inadvertent "Prim, this is my boyfriend's brother," sort of way.

Whatever. It still makes Katniss cry a little bit. If maybe not for the reasons that everyone else in the audience is sniffling. Prim really does look beautiful in her dress. Even if Katniss wasn't invited to the fitting until it was too late and she didn't even have the day off of work. Ugh. She's probably never going to be able to forgive her boss for refusing to let her take that day off.

She can't very well tell Peeta that she won't dance with him. Not when he asks and EVERYONE turns to look at them, clearly wondering what her reaction will be. She doesn't blame them for not knowing what she'll do. She's never been the type of girl to dance. Especially not in public.

But he's watching her so expectantly, and so are all the others. Prim might have been pissed at all the attention if she wasn't so rapturously in love with her husband. They've been dancing for ages, anyway, and barely stopped to look at anyone else. It's . . . sweet. Even if it makes Katniss a little uncomfortable, the thought of liking someone that much. She does give Peeta her hand, and she thinks she hears Posy sigh. Like all of this is romantic.

"What are you thinking?" Peeta asks as he leads her out to the dance floor.

"Is this really the time to talk about the arrangement?" she asks, her voice quiet.

"I wasn't. I was talking about you." Oh. Well. "You were watching your sister. Are you sad?"

"No. I'm happy for her," she says.

"No one said you couldn't be both."

The music changes, and he pulls her in a little bit closer so they can really start to dance. It's hard, making sure that he doesn't step on her feet. She has to back up and let him lead and try to at least pretend like she's enjoying this.

Ugh. Dancing is horrible.

"I am. I'm happy for her and Rory," she says. He turns her a little bit, continuing the little tiny steps. They could do this dance on a pie plate, she thinks. "But I can't imagine being that sure of anything when I was her age."

He smiles. "So you agree? They're getting married young?"

"High school sweethearts," she says. "Of course, I don't think I'd want to marry someone that I met as a teenager. But still. They're happy."

"They look happy," he agrees. "Did you go right to school?"

"Why?"

"Just wondering. Since you said that about not being sure of anything."

"That's not what I said," she protests weakly. "No. I didn't go right to school. I didn't want to take any loans out."

He nods. "I get that. So you went to work?"

She nods.

"Do you hate it?"

"What?" she asks.

"Working for Cray. Do you hate it?"

"Why does it matter?"

He sighs, just a little bit. "I'm trying to get a feel for you, Katniss."

His hand wanders down to the small of her back and she scoffs. "Literally?"

He ducks his head, looking maybe a little sheepish. "You didn't answer the question."

"Yes. I hate working for Cray. Happy?"

He shrugs, just a little bit. "I wouldn't say happy."

It's quiet for a while, save for the music that's playing. There are a few other couples dancing, but not many. None of them seem to be having conversations, though.

"You wouldn't have to work for him, you know," Peeta says after a long moment, his voice low. "Not if you moved in with me."

"Is this the place?" she asks, not for the first time.

"I don't know. Is it?" he returns. "I guess the real question is whether or not I'm the worst wedding date."

"You don't have much competition," she quips. "No one else would have offered to bring me."

"Is that a yes?"

"That's . . . I want to talk in private," she says.

He grins, looking for all the world like a kid on Christmas.

She's still not sure when he brings her back to the apartment. All of Bristol's things – and, by the looks of it, some of Katniss' things – are gone, though. It's not an empty threat this time. And there's no way she's going to be able to make rent, let alone buy the supplies she needs for her classes.

And the place is a mess, too. Katniss had managed to pick up after the rehearsal last night, but the apartment looks horrible. "I'll have my own bed?" she asks.

"Your own room," he assures her. "Why? You want it?"

"I just . . . see no point in not doing this. If it's like you said, and there isn't a point of no return. I want to try this."

"Are you sure?" he asks, leaning against the doorway.

"Yes."

"Okay," he says. "Thank you."

She scoffs. He really believes that she'll be helpful, then. That this isn't all for her benefit. Does it make it easier, if that's true?

He laughs. "Seriously. Katniss. This is really a big deal. Thank you, thank you so much."

She says that he's welcome, but she feels a strange nagging in the pit of her stomach like maybe she already regrets agreeing to this.

"So, what?" she asks. "Do I get a ring and a name change?"

"Not just yet," he says, giving her a winning smile. "We have a few things to look over - just you, me, and Delly Cartwright."

She nods. "Do you . . . do you want to come in?"

He shakes his head. "Better not. I'll see you later, though, okay?"

She's left more than a little confused when the door closes behind him.