A/N: I still can't believe I've actually gotten reviews. I'm dazed. Whoa! Thank you all for you support! I am hugging you through your electronic! (: Anyway, this is where the plot picks up! Cue dramatic sequence! *Dun Dun Dun* Alright. To all of you who have been waiting for our lovely Baker Boy to appear, worry not! He has arrived! YAY! I'm so glad all of you like my story! I thank the Lord for my readers! Hallelujah! (And my brother. If he weren't there to play Call of Duty, this/wouldn't exist.)
Seriously, I have been over this: Me no own Hunger Games. (Duh)
Chapter Three:
As Prim brushed out my dark, long hair on the next morning, she asked softly, "Are you nervous?" I'd been biting my bottom lip over since I woke up, and I was worried as heck. This was excruciating, waiting like this. She smoothed out my hair and began to plait it into a intricate braid my mother had taught her. "Yes," I answered plainly, my voice sounding stronger than I planned it to be. "Don't be. This is not something to be nervous about. Enjoy this." She said this as she finished the braid, tying a dark green ribbon at the end to hold it. I looked at the coal-dust encrusted mirror to see my reflection. I was small for my age, skinny, and not unique. I couldn't see why Peeta wanted to marry me, when he could have any of the Merchant girls. It was unfathomable. I wore a green blouse that Prim had begged me to wear, and a pair of nice jeans that belonged to my mother, that weren't frayed and worn, like the ones I was used to. Prim had even coaxed me into wearing a pair of my mother's black flats. I was dressed up, and I didn't like it. I glanced at the clock that hung above the mirror, and it read 6:30. "Prim, we have to get going now, it's 30 Minutes till." I stated and Prim nodded. "Alright. Let me grab my bag," She said happily, smiling a little girl's smile. I got out of the worn wooden chair that faced the mirror and picked up my tattered canvas bag that held my books.
Prim and I met at the door a couple moments later, and began walking towards the School together, side by side. The chill of the mid-January air made me shiver, despite the fact I wore my father's old, heavy leather jacket. Prim didn't seem to mind the weather, she just smiled and glanced at my through the sides of her eyes every few minutes. I laughed and said, "Well, someone's in a good mood," She giggled and said, "Yeah, I am, aren't I?" I rolled my eyes at her and said, "You're a teenager and not once have I ever seen you moody." She shrugged, "I write Poetry." I raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to read that now," I teased, shuddering falsely as she punched me lightly in the arm. Soon enough we were in the courtyard of the school, and my breathing had quickened. I searched the faces of all the people, praying that He wasn't there. "Prim, why don't you go say hi to your friends," I suggested and Prim bounced off to a group of babbling young girls.
I began to fiddle with the end of my braid as all the students poured into the courtyard, waiting for the bell to ring. I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard the whisper of my name softly in my ear. I turned, my hair raised, only to find the delicate facial features of my best friend, Madge. She looked worried somewhat, and she fiddling with the engagement ring she had received the day of her birthday last month. Her blue eyes were questioning as she stated bluntly, "You're wearing fancy clothes, Katniss." That was enough to get her intrigued, of course. I smiled, a dainty upturn of my thin lips, and said, "Yes, Madge. I'm dressed up. As are you." And that was true. Today, she wore a white blouse that ruffled with a pair of black flats and leggings, not something she usually wore. She looked pretty, but she still looked confused. "Why?" I laughed at her expression and said, "You'll find out sooner or later. Actually, at lunch. Well, see you," She looked at me like I had gone nuts, and was about to say something, only to get cut off by the shrill bell alerting the students that the School was open. I rushed inside, walking with the horde, to my locker, which wasn't far off.
The school was very plain, like it had changed in a century, which it probably hadn't. The students all got their things and reported to their home rooms, chatting and laughing, making the halls all to loud. I brushed a loosed hair from my face and unlocked the locker and I picked up my math book. I reported to 1st period, and sat through the lesson, not listening to a word Mr. McCoy had to say. I was distracted, as for third period lurked in the back of my thoughts like an eerie thunder cloud, not pouring or shooting lightning yet, just quiet and ominous, ever apparent.
Second period was worse. This rebellious girl, Theresa, was arguing with the History Teacher about an ancient book called "Twilight", saying it wasn't literature and how it was trash. The History teacher had tried to go on with the lesson about ancient world authors, only to interrupted by Theresa every once and a while. It was quite funny, yet it didn't relax me in any state. I was as still as a rock, as Theresa was a jittery, energetic girl who never seemed to stop moving. It just made me anxious. When the lesson ended and the bell rang, I thought I was going to pass out.
I exchanged my history book for my English, trying not to hyperventilate. I slowly made my way to the room where my future was, taking small and even steps, trying to trip over myself. I pushed the door open and took a deep breath. I stepped inside, and immediately heard, "Well, Theresa, you're looking quite orange today," My heart stopped as I turned to face the speaker. His blond hair was imperfect in a stylish way as he leaned toward the unruly girl from last period. She glared at Peeta, clenching her fists, making the silver bracelets jingle on her desk. Her strawberry blond hair could probably be an accuse from the use of 'orange', but I knew better. "Ooh, spends in trouble!" A student called to Peeta and Theresa said, "Butt out, Ryan!" She turned to Peeta and jabbed a finger at him threateningly. "I've had enough of you, Mellark! All of these stupid remarks on everything! Screw you!" She said in controlled voice so the teacher wouldn't suspect anything. I stared at her as the situation unfolded. Anything with any common knowledge of District Twelve' s gossip had to know that Peeta Mellark and Theresa Slater were mortal enemies. So the phrase that Peeta had said only backed up the fact.
"I didn't know you felt that way about me, Red. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested." Peeta replied, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously as Theresa's widened and her cheeks flushed red, suiting her nickname. "You-you-" she stuttered and Peeta laughed, sitting back in his chair. "I thought so." He said, looking pleased with himself. He caught my eye and smiled sweetly and I felt heat rush to my cheeks, almost as if Theresa's red had duplicated itself onto mine. I rushed to my seat and sat down next to the person who Theresa had called Ryan.
His brown eyes looked intelligent through thick framed glasses and his head of brown hair swayed slightly to the side. "Katniss," he greeted. "Ryan," I tried and I looked back to the front of the class. Mrs. Watson had finally stood up, and she said, "Turn to page 394 in your textbooks, students." She turned to write something on the blackboard, and I heard a muted whisper of, "Pass this back to Katniss," and a bunch of shuffling. I looked up from the textbook. Ryan set something my desk, and I immediately looked at that. It was a paper, one that seemed to be ripped out of some sort of sketch book, and I opened it. It read: "What do say, Katniss? Will you marry me?" I searched the room and looked into his bright, blue eyes and I smiled. There was a warmth there, something I'd never seen before. I scribbled the word "yes" in my sort of messy scrawl and passed the note back. Maybe this won't be bad, I though, not bad at all. I kept his eye and passed it to Ryan, who passed it to Theresa, who grudgingly threw the note at Peeta's head. He picked it up off the ground and opened it, read the one word and looked back at me. "Mrs. Watson, I think I must have forgotten my textbook in my locker, can I retrieve it?" Peeta blurted, and I sensed I was supposed to come too.
Our teacher smiled sweetly at Peeta and said, "Of course! Ms. Slater can join you, to help." Theresa groaned. "Ugh, can Katniss go instead? I can't stand Peeta...no offense, Peeta." I caught her wink at me and I smiled. So this girl was actually not concerned just about herself, after all, I thought. Mrs. Watson said, "If you say so, I guess it wouldn't hurt if Ms. Everdeen took your place," Theresa whooped loudly, earning a few snickers from some of the kids, including Ryan. I got up from my seat shakily, and headed toward the man that would soon be my husband.
A/N: There you have it! For all of you who caught on to the Theresa thing, good for you. For all of you who didn't, too bad. (: Anyway, I love to write cliff hangers, but I hate to read them. It sucks to be you, doesn't it? -AG