This chapter is set in July, 3 months after the last chapter, and 2 months before Chapter 1
It's become a daily routine for me to walk to school with Peeta, just like me getting up every morning to hunt with Gale and doing my homework with Madge after school. I have woven Peeta into my life, now it seems impossible that only three months ago I was blushing by our small talk as we were trading. I don't think I could handle life without Peeta anymore. He's become such a part of my daily routine that I don't even think about it anymore.
In the morning, I get up early to hunt with Gale. We trade, and then get ready for school. Prim and I walk to the bakery, and Peeta comes with me to drop Prim off at school. Then, we walk together to the high school. The first few days, I was at the bakery, pounding on the door, until Peeta's oldest brother, Sopa, answered. That first day, I literally forced Peeta into clothes, and dragged him out of bed, muttering, "It's either me or the Peacekeepers." We didn't say a word all the way to school. It got easier after that. A week later, Peeta met me at the bakery entrance, and we started to make small talk. The next week, he asked me if I used to walk Prim to school. When I said yes, he said we could drop her off together; that he didn't mind waking up early. That was the week I told him he could sit with us at lunch, if he wanted to, much to Gale's chagrin.
With Prim walking with us, conversation flowed easily. Prim was good at taking your mind off of all the things you hated about the Capitol, good at making you look at the bright side of life. If President Snow was anything like my little sister, we wouldn't need half as many Peacekeepers. Then again, if President Snow was like Prim, we wouldn't have the Hunger Games, either.
That first day, when Peeta sat with us at lunch, I didn't know whether to be ridiculously happy or to burst into tears. Not only was Gale scowling the entire time, but Peeta was doing a lot worse than I thought. I was happy because it was the first time he had sat with anyone at lunch since...the incident. Usually, he would sit by himself in the corner, and when anyone would come up to him, he would stare glassy eyed at the wall. So I had low expectations.
But as he sat there, I kept expecting him to tease me, or to laugh at something funny Madge said, or try to get Gale to like him.
But he didn't.
And it broke my heart.
But things have gotten better as time has gone on.
After school, I would walk Peeta to the bakery, and then go to Madge's house to finish homework. This is mostly because I worry about her being at home alone with her mother, and I know she's too scared to be alone with her, but she'll never say anything. So I offer. Plus she's really good at math, and I need all the help I can get. I usually leave Madge's house at five, when her dad get's home from the Mayor's office, and then I go over to the bakery again. This started about a month after the incident, when Rye let slip that they were struggling to get all the shifts covered at the bakery, now that Mrs. Mellark was gone, and Mr. Mellark was in no shape to work. Peeta was livid at Rye when I offered to help, but he had to give in to Sopa and Rye's pleading-they were eager to have a little free time. So, for the past two months, I have worked the night shift at Mellark bakery, while Peeta does his homework.
Peeta has been insistent that he stays with me while I'm working, despite my protests that this is for him to have free time away from the bakery. He insists. I always put up a fight. So tonight, when he sits at the counter and pulls out his history notes, I can't repress a sigh.
Peeta gives me a sigh of his own, accompanied by a dramatic eye roll. I smirk. I've missed his eye rolling these past months.
"Seriously, Katniss," he says. "Are we really going to have this argument again?"
"What's the point of my being here if you aren't going to take some time for yourself?" I say, wiping the counter.
"I have time to do my homework," he says, holding up his notebook.
"Bull. Shit. Peeta, it takes you like fifteen minutes to get all of that done."
He can't suppress a sheepish smile.
"See? I'm right. You should take some time for yourself. When was the last time you drew?"
Peeta's eyebrows shoot up, and I know he thought I didn't know about the sketching. And painting. And drawing. Oops. Rye knows a lot of things about Peeta he doesn't mind sharing.
"I drew yesterday!" He huffs indignantly. "And you weren't supposed to know that. It's embarrassing."
It's my turn to smile sheepishly. "Hey, I think it's adorable."
Peeta rolls his eyes. "That's the last thing I want you to think of me."
"Then you better stop rolling your eyes," I quip as I put a tray of dough in the oven for tomorrow morning. "Because that's cute too."
"Oh really?" Now he's blushing. I can't fight back a smile. Peeta abandons his homework and comes to help me knead dough. As he's rolling up his sleeves, I begin to protest weakly, but I know it's futile.
"Peeta, really, I'm capable,"
He laughs, but not unkindly. "No offense, Katniss, but those tiny arms of yours, while they may be great for shooting arrows, aren't nearly strong enough to knead dough quickly."
"I have time!" I say.
"Shut up and let me help you."
So I do. And he does. We work in silence for a few moments.
Then, "You really think I'm cute?"
I start to laugh, unsure of myself. These past few months, in my effort to help Peeta, I've thrown all the emotional boundaries and wariness to the wind, and I've let him see more of myself that I've shown anyone in the past five years since my father died. Peeta has seen the parts of me that are weak, scared, and depressed. He's seen me heartbroken over my mother, worried to death about Prim being in the reaping, and missing my father so much I want to fall apart. He's seen parts of me I've never dared to show Gale, for fear that he will think I'm weak, and parts that I've never shown Madge, because I"m scared she won't be able to handle it. Don't ask me how it happened, but Peeta Mellark knows me better than anyone. I've shown him all of my tattered, weathered soul.
And he's shown me his. I've seen him vulnerable, and I've seen him strong, and everything in between. In a few short months, he's gone from the goofy, funny baker in my history class, to one of my closest friends.
"Yeah," I say finally. "I finally understand what all those Merchant girls have been talking about."
"And what's that?"
"Oh, you know, they've all been in love with you since the first grade. They love talking about Peeta Mellark, wondering why you won't give them the time of day, how you're so friendly, but you've never had a girlfriend. How you'd be perfect together, if only you would notice them. Really, Peeta, you're quite the heartbreaker."
"Is that right? Hmm. I wonder what they say about me now. Poor Peeta Mellark, his mother beat him, and now his father's crazy, and he still doesn't notice me!"
His words are teasing, but his tone isn't. His eyes have gone dark, and he's kneading the bread with aggression now. Towards the capitol, towards our peers, towards his mother. I let him pound the bread for a moment before slipping my arm around his waist, and asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"
This is our biggest difference. Among other things, Peeta will share his feelings, while I prefer to let them simmer in the pit of my stomach.
"I just...I'm so-I'm so PISSED AT HER!" He throws the bread down on the counter. "She was terrible, for years she was terrible, slapping me, Rye, and Sopa around. Even my dad. There wasn't a nice bone in that woman's body. I... I got the worst of it. Which is fine, good. Rye wouldn't have been able to take it, and Sopa, well, Sopa always stood there too long, not wanting to admit that she was hurting him, not wanting to wince at her words, wanting her to think she wasn't getting to him. She would just hit harder, spit more cruel words at him, at all of us. She almost broke his arm one time. No, it was better that it was me most of the time. Sopa and Rye would get told off every few days, slapped around whenever she was really pissed, but me, well, I could walk in at the wrong time, say the wrong thing, and she was after blood. And I could handle enough of it, and I knew when to concede. And I hated her. But now...now, she's gone, and what? Now I fucking miss her? How does that work? How can I-she was, she was a monster. And I miss her." He's crying now.
"Oh, Peeta," I say. "It's okay to miss her. She was your mother." I slide my arms around his waist. "You know, sometimes I hate my mother for the position she puts me in. She gave me no choice but to take care of her and Prim, and even though she's getting better, she's still...gone. And my father...my father was my favorite person in the world. But she was my rock. She was my mother, and she left me. I get so pissed off at her, but I feel like I can't be angry, because she lost the love of her life. She deserves to be hurting. So I shouldn't be angry. But I am anyways."
We work in silence for a few moments, before I ask, "How is your dad doing?" Mr. Mellark's wounds were infected, and he suffered a high fever for several days. He's suffered some mental damage, and he was staying with us for a few weeks so my mother could help him recover. He moved back to Peeta's home a few weeks ago, so I've been wondering how he's doing since he's moved out. I've missed having him (and Peeta) staying in my house. It was nice to have a guy around for a while.
"He's doing better," Peeta says slowly. "I think he's going to start working at the bakery again next week."
"That's good," I smile. We all knew this was the next step. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I tease, "Pretty soon you won't need me around here."
Peeta smiles, but his eyes remain hard. We are finished with the bread, and I finished the cleaning before we started. I start packing up to leave.
As I'm walking out the door, Peeta offers to walk me home. "Peacekeepers," he says. "Don't want Cray to have an excuse to take you home, do we?"
"Right." I try to smile. I fail.
"You know Katniss," Peeta says as we set out towards the Seam. "You don't have to worry about me so much."
My eyes fill up as he smiles sadly at me. "Yeah, I do," I say finally. "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you. I didn't realize it before, but I really care about you, Peeta."
He pulls me into a hug as we're walking. Neither one of us say anything until we get to my doorstep.
"Hey Katniss?" Peeta's voice is small. Shy. "We'll always need you at the bakery." I smile at him. His voice softens even more, and lowers. "I'll always need you. There was a reason I never noticed any of those girls at school." And with a whisper of a kiss on my forehead, he turns and walks away.
He doesn't look back, but if he did, he would see me standing, in shock, leaning against my porch. He would see me, showing him another piece of my shattered soul.
"You like him," Madge says accusingly over our math homework. I haven't even told her about what happened last night, she just launches into the conversation like she's been thinking about it for a while.
"Peeta?" I ask, feigning innocence. "Madge, you know how I feel about boys. I'm never having kids, and I don't want to end up like my mother after my father died."
"Wow. You're assuming you and Peeta will get married. And have kids. For all you know, you could die a virgin."
"That's the plan."
"That's depressing."
"Can we stop this conversation before you start talking about your sex life, please?"
Madge laughs. "I'm a virgin, Katniss."
I try not to look surprised. But from the sound of Madge's giggles, obviously I fail.
"Come on. Gale and I aren't that touchy, are we?"
"No, no. You're just always holding hands, and brushing up against each other, and whispering in each other's ears, stuff like that."
"Sounds like you and Peeta," Madge quips.
She crumbles under my glare. "I'm just saying," she surrenders. "You worry more about him than you worry about me these days. You take care of him more than you take care of Prim. And when was the last time you confided anything to Gale, hunh? He used to be your secret keeper, and now your sharing all of your feelings with Peeta. And you might not be an expert on love, Katniss Everdeen, or any other sort of emotion, and neither am I, but if that's not love, I don't know what is."
"I care about Peeta," I say. "That's all. I'm just worried about him."
"Whatever you say. Hey, can you stay for dinner tonight?"
"I can't, I'm working in the bakery."
Madge flashes me her best I-told-you-so grin.
"But tomorrow," I say cheekily. "Tomorrow I can come."
"Good. I'll invite Gale and Peeta. Wear something nice. For me."
With the promise that Peeta and I will do both afternoon shifts for the rest of the week, Rye agreed last night to cover both mine and Peeta's shift tonight. Peeta, Gale, and I go over to Madge's house right after school, and as Madge is getting dinner ready, Gale, Peeta, and I are joking around. It's amazing how much Gale has warmed up to Peeta in the past few weeks. After Gale realized Peeta wasn't going to try to charm him into a friendship, and that Peeta is actually miserable (despite the fact that he's a townie), and that Peeta has as much rage towards the Capitol as Gale, the friendship was actually really linear. Gale is teaching Peeta how to hunt (with knives, Peeta can't handle a bow, and his tread still needs a lot of improvement), and Peeta is teaching Gale how to wrestle. They now spend all of their free time talking about different wrestling techniques, or how to hit a squirrel with more accuracy.
I'm wearing a skirt, (at Madge's request), and I am so uncomfortable that I would have torn it off before now if a), it hadn't been my mother's, and b), Peeta hasn't been able to stop staring at my legs, and Gale and Peeta have both told me I look nice.
I may not want children, but I'm not averse to compliments.
The mayor comes home around 5:15, and Madge tells us dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. She shows us to the dining room, and we all take a seat. "I'll go get Mother," she says softly. Gale gives her a reassuring nod. None of us are certain if Madge's mother will be joining us tonight.
Mayor Undersee makes small talk with Peeta, talking about business, but a reply barely crosses Peeta's lips before we hear Madge's scream.
She left a note. I don't know if that makes Mrs. Undersee's overdose better, or worse.
Most likely worse.
If I were Madge, it would make it so much worse.
We all run to Madge's mother's room. The Mayor stops at the threshold, sees his daughter holding his wife's cold hand, and drops to his knees, burying his head in his hands, and letting out a strangled sob that reminds me of a dying animal. I turn to see Gale with his jaw locked, and fists clenched. He's been wary of Mrs. Undersee's pill habit for months. I keep waiting for him to move to Madge, move to comfort his girlfriend, but he just stands there. Peeta drops to comfort the Mayor, and I run to Madge, pulling her into my arms. She's still screaming. She screams until her voice goes hoarse, but I can still feel her vocal cords vibrating. Finally she breaths, and begins to tremble. "Shhh," I say in a pathetic attempt to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Madge, I'm so, so sorry."
My loves,
I am so very sorry, but I can't take them any more. The headaches, the nightmares. They hurt to much. I miss her. I miss Maysilee. I see her every night in my dreams, and every night she is taken away from me again. My head hurts with the knowledge that she was taken from me, that she was taken from me by the Capitol, which takes everything away from me. From us. From everyone.
Madge clutches at her mothers arm, and is refusing to let go. Half of her is clinging on to me, and the other half is hanging onto her mom, begging, pleading for her to wake up.
"You were wrong," she hisses. "You counted wrong, you must've! You're just asleep, you weak old woman, you're just asleep..."
Her sobs give her away. She knows.
We can all feel death in the room.
And, my dear, love of my life, you know how much I care for you. But I could never forgive you for working for them all of these years. For meeting with President Snow. For sending children off every year to their deaths. You stand by. You say nothing. How can you say nothing? Who was there for Maysilee? No one. I should have been there. I should have volunteered. I was weak.
"YOU WEAK WOMAN!" Madge's screams blend with her father's strangled sobs. "HOW COULD YOU LEAVE US? HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME?"
What if it had been Madge? Would you have stood by then? While I stand by, weak and powerless?
Every year, I have watched to children be shipped off to that dreadful place, and none of them come back.
Every year, I see Haymitch, drunk on that stage, and I hate him for not being able to save her.
Every year, my headaches get worse.
I can't deal with the pain anymore.
I can't watch two more children die.
I can't watch you standby, anymore, my love.
"Madge, Madge, stop, stop, she's gone-" Madge buries her head in my shoulder and sobs.
I turn and see Peeta and Mayor Undersee. The Mayor is clutching at Peeta, making terribly painful sounds. Peeta is just whispering words into his ear, and my heart fills with affection for him. That he can be in so much pain, and yet help others cope with theirs, astounds me. The Mayor begins to shout, "It's your fault!" again and again.
Madge, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you. But not for today. I'm sorry I left you to go to my room all those years ago, when you really needed a mother. I'm sorry I was always in here, instead of watching you grow up. But today, I'm leaving.
You look like her, Madge. You always have.
My head hurts, my head hurts, and I'm tired. I can't fight this anymore. I've lost my battle.
My only hope is that you two win yours.
Remember who the enemy is.
She used to always say that. Her and Haymitch. I thought it was a joke, at first. It wasn't. I understand that now.
Maysilee is waiting for me. It's not just a dream today.
I love you for always. Goodbye.
I hold Madge for the rest of the night as she cries into my shoulder. We end up falling asleep on her mother's bedroom floor, our tears blended together and dried on our cheeks, her head on my chest, and my arms wrapped around her protectively. As we're drifting away, I realize that she's stronger than I give her credit for. And maybe her soul is just as tattered and weathered as mine.
