Gale is sitting when Peeta and I get back down to the living room, but he stands when we enter. Is that pain on his face when we walk in with our arms around each other's waists?
"Hi, Gale," I say.
"Hey, Catnip."
We all sit down, but no one says anything. Gale manages not to scowl at the way Peeta's arm is protectively wrapped around me, but I can see that it bothers him. After an uncomfortably long silence, Gale speaks. "So… You're living here now?" he asks.
"Yeah. Moved in yesterday," I tell him.
"That's quick," he says.
I quickly decide that Gale doesn't need to know about our nightmares or how sleeping together helps alleviate them, or about the anxiety I now feel anytime I don't know for sure that Peeta is safe. I simply shrug my shoulders at him. "Why wait?"
Another uncomfortable silence ensues. It seems to hang around us, more suffocating by the second. How did it become this hard to talk to Gale? We get along so well in the woods, but it occurs to be that our existence out there is heavily dependent on not talking.
This time I break the silence. "Sorry I missed hunting today."
Gale seems relieved. "No problem," he says. "I'm just glad you're not avoiding me."
"No, I'm not avoiding you," I say, maybe a bit too quickly. "With everything going on with the end of filming and then with moving yesterday, I forgot what day it was. It didn't occur to me that today was Sunday until I found out you were here."
"Yeah, well, some of us don't get to lose track of days," Gale says bitterly. Before I can form a response, he continues, "I start in the mines tomorrow."
"Oh," is all I manage to say.
"Yeah," is all Gale says in response.
We both know what it means to work in the mines. Twelve hour days, six days a week. Foul air. Claustrophobic tunnels. Suffocating darkness. And we both know the risks, we both lost our fathers to the same mine explosion. I know I could never stand it. I had twice missed our annual school trip down to the mines because I made myself so sick with dread that my mother thought I had the flu. For Gale, who is only really alive in the fresh air and open sunlight of the woods, it will be absolute torture. But Gale has risked execution every day for the past five years just to feed his family; he'll gladly spend the rest of his life in that dank underground for them.
I wish there was a way I could help Gale. With my victor's stipend, I have more money than anyone in Twelve could spend. I could easily support Gale's entire family. Victors' money is closely monitored, the Capitol doesn't want Victors spreading their wealth to others; but how the Capitol defines wealth is different than here in District 12. The amount needed to support Gale's whole family is probably still too small to attract notice. But Gale wouldn't take it anyway. He's too proud and too stubborn for that. Just like me, I think sadly. The only time I ever accepted someone's help was one day in the rain when I was dying.
"That's not going to leave much time for hunting," I say.
"Nope," Gale says. "Just Sundays."
"What about the snare lines?" I ask. "Will Rory be checking them during the week?"
"No, he wouldn't be able to re-set them. I haven't taught him yet."
"I can check them," I say.
"You don't have to do that," Gale snaps. "I can handle things myself."
"Don't be so stubborn about this, Gale." My voice is starting to rise now. Why can't Gale and I have a civil conversation about anything anymore? "You know you would have fed Mom and Prim if I hadn't come back. At least let me check the snares and make your trades during the week." And add a few extra coins to the day's haul, I add silently.
Gale doesn't say anything, just stares at me. I decide to stare right back. Peeta surprises me by being the one to speak. "You know you'd do it for her," he says quietly. Then after a moment, he adds, "Don't push her away."
Gale looks at Peeta like he wants to punch him, but finally he just throws up his hands in defeat and falls against the back of his chair. "Fine! Check the damn snares if you want to!"
"Thank you, Gale," I say, trying to calm him. He just grunts in return.
No one speaks for a while, the oppressive silence reasserting its dominance. Peeta is the one to break it this time. "You're the one who wanted to talk, Gale. What's on your mind?"
Gale stares at Peeta for a moment before responding. "You think you could give us a few minutes?"
I know Peeta will agree, so I interject before he can respond. "Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of Peeta."
"You don't think we have some things to discuss in private?" Gale says.
"I don't have any secrets from Peeta," I tell him coolly.
"Well, maybe I do!" Gale hisses.
"Well if you do, don't share any of them with me, because I won't keep them!" I say, my voice rising with each word.
Gale looks like he's about to respond, when he stops himself and exhales loudly. "I don't want to fight with you, Catnip. I just want to talk to you." He looks back at Peeta. "In private."
This time it's Peeta who speaks up before I can respond. "Why don't I go make some lunch?"
"You don't have to do that," I tell him.
Peeta takes my face in both his hands. It gives me such a feeling of comfort that I close my eyes for a moment and lean into his touch. When I open them again, Peeta is inches away, looking directly into my eyes. "Look, you two need to talk, and it's obvious Gale won't talk while I'm here." He pauses to give me a quick kiss. "I'll just be in the next room. You'll be fine. Talk to Gale."
Part of me still doesn't want to let him go, but I nod my assent and tell him, "Okay." Before he can leave I reach out to mirror his hold on my face and pull him into another kiss. "I love you," I tell him.
He smiles and says, "I love you," before standing and heading to the kitchen.
I watch him as he leaves, then turn back to Gale, who visibly flinches at the angry look I give him. "Okay, Gale. What's the big secret Peeta can't know until I tell him in five minutes?"
"What's the matter, you can't talk to me anymore without him in the room to chaperone you?" he asks.
"What is your problem with Peeta?" I ask. "Are you really so jealous that you can't accept him? He's not some sort of enemy, Gale. He's the one person I can really count on right now."
Gale looks hurt by my declaration. "You can count on me, Catnip."
"Can I?" I ask incredulously. "Tell me this, did you accept everything I told you the other night or were you planning on asking me the same questions all over again today?" Gale's silence is admission enough, so I press on. "I'll go one better: I trust Peeta, so I know that everything Peeta told you this morning is one hundred percent the truth. Now, do you believe me or do you still doubt him?"
"How can you say that when you don't even know what he said?" Gale asks. Wow, did he really buy that story about me being upstairs asleep the whole time? When Peeta said flat out what I was really doing?
"I don't need to know what he said. I know he wouldn't lie to you unless I asked him to. That's because I trust him. The open question is, do you trust me?" Gale doesn't say anything, he just sits there staring at me, clenching his jaw. I guess that's my answer. "Okay, well, we've established that you don't trust me, don't believe me when I try to tell you things, and also don't trust or believe the one person I trust and count on more than anyone else. Explain to me again the ways in which you're on my side?"
Gale's jaw doesn't relax, but now he looks more pained than angered. "Katniss, we've known each other for years. Committed death-penalty crimes together. Kept each other's family alive. How can you trust him more than me? I understand you two went through a lot together, but how can two months outweigh four years?"
I'm getting very, very tired of Gale Hawthorne's bruised ego. "Gale, you will never understand what Peeta and I have been through. Never. And I wouldn't want you to."
"Why?" he asks. "How can you be so sure that I'll never understand?"
"Because you'll be nineteen by the next Reaping Day."
The silence that hangs between us is heavy. Finally, I break it. "Gale, you have to make a decision. You're right, we've been close for years. I think of you like a brother. I think of Hazelle like a second mother – heck, at times she was more like my only mother. But you need to decide – will you still be my friend now that you're not the most important man in my life?"
Gale seems almost to be studying me. Finally he says, "I really wish I knew what to believe right now."
I let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, you could just believe me, but that would involve some level of trust, and I guess the last four years hasn't earned me any of that. Thanks for making that clear." And with that I stand up leave to join Peeta in the kitchen.
Peeta stands by the stove, heating a pot of stew. He looks up when I enter the room. "That didn't take long. How're things going?"
I sit down at the table and lay my face in my hands. "Terrible. I would never have imagined Gale to be like this. He's so blinded by jealousy, he refuses to believe anything I tell him."
Peeta puts the pot to the side and sits next to me, draping an arm over my shoulders. As if on reflex, I wrap my arms around his chest and lay my head against the front of his shoulder as tears begin to prick the corners of my eyes. "It just hurts, you know? My best friend doesn't trust me anymore because he doesn't want to believe that I love someone else."
"I'm sorry."
I pull away a bit so that I can look Peeta in the eyes. "It's not your fault, Peeta. You have nothing to feel sorry for."
"I feel like I'm causing all of these fractures in your life," Peeta says, gently stroking my hair. "You're fighting with your mother, and with Gale. Yesterday you were getting death glares from Prim of all people. Not to mention this whole mess with the Capitol. It's like I'm breaking apart your life by trying to jam myself into it."
I lift my hand to Peeta's face, resting my palm against his jawline. "You're not jamming yourself into my life, Peeta. I want you in my life. If Gale can't accept that, then that's a problem between me and Gale. But I won't let anything come between us."
"I just wish you didn't have to choose between us," Peeta says with a sigh.
"I know," I say, "But if I have to choose, I choose you. Always."
A small smile works it way onto Peeta's face, and he leans down to brush a quick kiss against my lips. I rest my head back on his shoulder and simply soak in his warm presence for a few minutes.
"You know, I think we should just stop answering that door," I say. At Peeta's confused look, I continue. "Mornings here are always so nice. So peaceful. I love waking up next to you, I love lying in bed with you. But then someone comes banging on that door and ruins our perfect morning. I think from now on we should just stop answering."
Peeta is chuckling now. "Okay. If you say stop answering, I'll stop answering. The rest of the world can go hang so long as you're here with me."
I smile and plant a kiss on a convenient part of Peeta's chest. "Good. I'm glad we agree."
After another couple of minutes, Peeta lets go of me to stand up. "We may as well have lunch," he says, walking back over to the stove. "Did Gale leave? I didn't hear the door."
"No, I'm still here," Gale says, suddenly right behind us. Like me, years of stalking prey in the woods have taught Gale to tread silently. "I was just going to ask if I should leave, actually."
I don't bother to turn around to look at him, or speak to him, or acknowledge him in any way. I wonder how much of my conversation with Peeta he overheard. Then I wonder how much of it he believed. I try to convince myself that I don't care, because the betrayal I'm feeling hurts too much. But if I was being honest with myself, I'd have to admit that I do care, because the betrayal I'm feeling hurts too much.
Peeta turns and looks at me as he sets the pot of stew on the table. He wants to know if I want Gale to stay for lunch. He doesn't want to invite Gale to stay or ask him to leave without me deciding which one I want. The problem is I don't know what I want. I want my friend Gale to stay. But I'd just as soon the Gale I was speaking with earlier leave.
Finally the look of concern in Peeta's big blue eyes is just too much for me. I know Peeta will give Gale as many chances as I want to give him, even though part of him will never get over the feeling that Gale is a threat to our relationship. Peeta knows that no matter how angry or hurt I am right now, if I lost Gale from my life I would always regret it, and once again he's putting my desire to maintain my old friendship ahead of his own feelings of insecurity. In the face of that kind of love, I can't kick Gale out of my life just yet. I still don't turn to look at Gale, but I finally speak. "No, stay for lunch, Gale." Let's take one more shot at this.
Even as Peeta is getting bowls and glasses, I get up and move to the other side of the table, to make sure I'll be sitting next to Peeta, not Gale. I'm sure this move isn't lost on either Gale or Peeta, but neither seems to react at all.
Peeta sets out a loaf of bread from yesterday and dishes out stew. Neither Gale nor I say anything, so Peeta finally breaks the silence. "So, Gale," he says, "I've already heard Katniss's side. How do you think your private conversation's going so far?"
"It's private for a reason, Mellark," Gale says curtly.
"That's fine," Peeta says. "I was just thinking about how the conversation the two of us had this morning was so much longer than the one the two of you had. So much less shouting, too. Maybe I could help smooth things over between you two?" Gale's glare is venomous, but Peeta maintains his calm, earnest demeanor. "I could act as a mediator, and then you and Katniss might get along as well as you and I do."
I try hard not to let out a laugh, but I utterly fail, and console myself with managing not to spew half-chewed food out of my mouth. Gale doesn't know which of us to glare at. In the end he just says, "Katniss and I get along fine."
"Oh, yes, I'm sure," Peeta says. "That's why my shirt is still damp, because of how well you two were getting along."
Gale looks like he wants to respond, but stops himself before speaking. I find I still have nothing to say to him. After an uncomfortable silence, Peeta speaks up again. "Look, Gale, maybe you're not seeing what's happening right now but let me give you a little preview of your future: You spend the rest of lunch glaring at us, not really saying anything constructive. Then you stomp out of here still angry about things. Katniss cries on my shoulder for a while, because the man she thought of like a brother just walked out of her life. And then you're not her friend anymore, now you're someone she used to know, someone she tries to avoid while bringing food to your family because seeing you makes her angry and uncomfortable. If that's what you want, please continue with the glaring and the anger. But if you were hoping for a different outcome, you may want to try a different strategy."
"What's it to you?" Gale asks. "As if the last thing you want is Katniss crying on your shoulder and me out of the picture."
"The last thing I want is to see her in pain," Peeta says. "I don't care whose shoulder she cries on, I care that her supposed friend made her cry and doesn't seem to care."
"Would you quit acting like you're so much better than everyone else?" Gale asks. "As if everything you do is for her and not selfish in any way!"
I can feel my anger rising as if it's a flame consuming me. How dare he say that to Peeta! Peeta, who gave himself up to the entire Career pack without a second thought? Peeta, who begged me to let him die in that cave rather than risk myself at the feast. "It's not an act, Gale," I say, finally breaking my silence. "If Peeta wasn't better than all of us then I wouldn't be alive right now, and you certainly wouldn't still be here in our house."
"Would you listen to yourself?" Gale says angrily. "'Our house.' It's his house. You shouldn't even be here."
"Who the hell are you to tell me where I should and shouldn't be?" I ask. "I don't let my mother get away with that, and I certainly won't take it from you!"
Gale and I glare at each other for a while before Peeta decides to try to break the tension. He reaches over and takes my hand, prying apart the fist I didn't realize I'd made and twining our fingers together. I can already feel the anger leeching out of my body at his touch. "You know," he says, his calm voice sounding discordant after the outbursts Gale and I have directed at each other, "I got this house for winning the Hunger Games. So technically, you did pay for half of it, Katniss."
I try to let myself be distracted. "By that logic, my house is half yours as well."
"That's true," Peeta says, "but I don't think we should ask our mothers to share it." Peeta gives me a lopsided grin, and I can't help but choke out a laugh at the idea.
Gale interrupts our moment of levity. "Your sappy romance act isn't any more appealing."
Peeta gives Gale an annoyed stare, but I find myself responding first. "It's not an act, Gale," I repeat.
"Of course it is!" Gale says. "I've known you for years, Catnip, I know how you act. And this isn't it. This isn't you!"
"It's the new me," I say. "This is how I act now. This is how I act after surviving the Games. This is how I act with Peeta. This is how I act when I'm in love.
Gale just stares back at us for a moment. "So if you're really in a relationship, what is it exactly? What are you to each other? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Lovers? Roommates? You're not married, right? So what are you?"
This gives me real pause to think. Peeta and I have been through so much in so short a time, we've never stopped to try to define our relationship. What are we to each other? What is Peeta to me? Is Peeta my boyfriend? That's what my mother called him, but the word just doesn't feel right to me. Boyfriend is a guy from school who you go on a third date with. Peeta and I are way beyond that. Are we lovers? We love each other, but the term lovers generally refers to the physical act, not the shared emotion, so in that sense we are not lovers.
"We're together," Peeta says, answering Gale's question without really answering it. I can remember when I would have clung to an answer like that as a way of avoiding confronting my real emotions, but that time ended for me when I finally admitted my love for Peeta. We are definitely together, but we could be together as anything from casual friends to passionate lovers. Gale's question remains: What are we to each other?
There are ever more tortured terms we could use to try to describe our relationship. Companions? Partners? Life-mates? None of them really feels comfortable to me.
I don't exactly have a lot of experience with relationships like this to fall back on. I was never interested in anyone before I fell in love with Peeta. Even as an outside observer, the only family I've ever been close to is the Hawthornes, and Mr. Hawthorne was already gone by the time I got to know them.
So I only have one example of a romantic relationship that I've actually had the chance to see up close. I usually try not to think about it, because of everything that came after, but even when viewed through a child's memories there's no way to dispute how much my parents loved each other. They were each other's whole lives, which had disastrous consequences but I try not to think about that part right now. Right now I only think about what came before. I think about how my father used to look at my mother like she was his entire world, and how much it reminds me of the way Peeta looks at me sometimes. I think about how my mother would stare at my father without realizing it, and would very self-consciously startle and refocus on whatever she was supposed to be doing, and I can't help but compare it to the way I react when Peeta catches me staring at him while he's baking.
A part of me is scared by the comparison. The part of me that wants to avoid Peeta and all the feelings he stirs within me. The part of me that remembers the end of my parents' love story, and wants more than anything to protect myself from that fate. The part of me that pushed Peeta away at that refueling station on the way home from the Capitol. But there's another part of me - the part of me that knows that it's already too late to wall myself off from Peeta, the part of me that wouldn't let him walk away from me at that refueling station, the part of me that I've let take control ever since - that part of me takes heart at the similarities. This whole thing is new for me, and for Peeta too according to what he told me last night. But if we're mirroring my parents' relationship, then I feel confident that we're doing something right.
And it's that thought that leads me to the obvious answer to Gale's question. I can't deny that the answer scares me, but how much of that fear is justified? Peeta doesn't work in the mines. He doesn't need to work at all, in fact. We will never need to struggle to support ourselves. We just survived the Hunger Games; that was the dangerous part of our lives. That was when I could have lost him. We're home now, out of the Games and out of the Capitol and living in a fancy house with piles of money and plenty of food. Now we're safe. Now we get to live.
Now she tries to cling to happiness so hard that nothing can tear it away from her. That's what Peeta said about me earlier, and it's true. It's what motivated me to move in here, and it's what motivates me to take the next step now. It's what makes me admit to myself that in the end, there is only one term I can think of that describes everything that Peeta means to me and how important he is in my life. And it's one that I don't have the right to use. Because like Gale said, we're not married, right?
Not yet, anyhow.
"Peeta," I say, coming out of my reverie, "we should get married."
I'm not sure if Peeta or Gale is more surprised by my statement, but Peeta reacts more smoothly. "Really? Are you sure?"
I echo my thoughts from earlier. "Gale wants to know what we are to each other. Well, there's only one word I can come up with that really describes how I feel about you, that encompasses everything you mean to me." I smile a bit, and reach over to brush some hair out of Peeta's eyes, letting my hand linger there. "I want you to be my husband, Peeta. I love you, and I want to spend my life with you, and I want you to be my husband. We're already more tightly bound to each other than most married couples, and I don't see any point in waiting. So let's sign the forms and make it official."
The look of joy on Peeta's face is amazing, but I only get to see it for a brief moment before his lips are crashing against mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and behind his head to press our faces impossibly closer, and I feel his arms engulf me in return. We kiss for what feels like forever, a kiss that expresses love and joy and hunger and longing and contentment and happiness far more than words ever could. Well, my words, at least. When we finally come up for air, the look on Peeta's face hasn't changed. Just seeing it makes me feel as happy as he looks. "Nothing would make me happier than to be your husband, Katniss," he says before kissing me again. I feel so happy in this moment, I can't help the smile that pulls my lips away from his. We pull back slightly to simply stare at each other, and I'm sure my smile is as dopey as Peeta's but I can't find it in myself to care right now. I feel like my whole life is falling into place, and it's everything that I've never wanted and I couldn't be happier.
It isn't until Gale clears his throat that I remember that we're not alone. He looks horrified. I feel embarrassed, because in the moment I had honestly forgotten he was there. I don't know what to say to him, but luckily Peeta jumps in to save me. "Sorry, Gale," he says. "Kind of got lost in the moment there."
Nobody seems to be eating much anymore, and now Peeta and I have things to do, so I decide lunch is over. "So Gale, you're free later, right? I figure we'll have dinner around six."
"Um, you're inviting me back for dinner?" he replies, confused.
"For our toasting," I say.
Gale looks almost ill. "You can't get married today!"
"Why not?" I ask, my anger growing again.
Peeta takes my hand, instantly calming me. "Katniss," he says softly, "it's Sunday. The Justice Building is closed today."
He's right, of course. It was silly of me to forget that. But alternate plans are already turning in my mind. I may have only made one friend in school, but I'm more and more grateful for who that friend is. "We just won't go to the Justice Building then. I think we can still get married today." I smirk a bit. "We got them to change the rules of the Hunger Games, I think we can manage to get married on a Sunday. Besides, we can still do the toasting today even if we have to wait until tomorrow to go to the Justice Building."
"You seriously want to get married today?" Peeta asks.
"Yes," I answer. "Why, do you have some reason you want to wait?"
"No, not at all," Peeta says, his smile growing again. "So what's your secret marriage plan?"
"Well, the first thing we're going to need are shoes," I say, my smile growing to match Peeta's.
"Should I just leave, then?" Gale asks. Somehow the other side of the table seems further away now.
I turn to look back at him. I'm in such a good mood now that I want to try again with my friend. "No, stay and finish eating. Give us a few minutes and we can all walk to town together."
Gale seems to think for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I think I'll head home," he says.
"Okay," I say, trying to keep from snapping at him again. "We'll see you later, right?"
"…I don't know," Gale says after a moment.
Just like that my momentary euphoria leaves me. That's that, then. If Gale was still my friend, of whatever sort he could manage to be under the circumstances, then he would at least come to my toasting. If not, then I'm not going to try to force the issue. I made my choice between my friendship with Gale and my love for Peeta, now whatever choice Gale wants to make I'll let him make it. "You'll let your mother know, at least? The rest of the family's still invited even if you… don't want to come," I say, biting off another nasty jab at the last minute.
"Yeah, okay, I'll tell her," Gale says, standing from the table. "See you around, Catnip." He leaves without another word.
Peeta and I go upstairs, but when we get there I just sit on the bed. Peeta sits next to me and takes me in his arms. I manage not to cry again, but after watching Gale walk out of my life I don't seem to have the strength left to do anything other than lean up against Peeta and be held.
After several minutes, Peeta breaks the silence. "If he's really your friend, he'll come around," he says.
"That's what I'm afraid of," I say. "I think I was right the other night when I said I'd lost my friend. I feel it even more now than I did that night. And what's worse, I don't even think it's my fault. I feel like Gale changed more during the Games than I did."
"Well, that's a good sign, right?" Peeta says. "If watching you in the Games affected him that much, that means he really cares about you."
That comment is just so typically Peeta that I have to shake my head. "Peeta," I say, "you're too nice a person for your own good. You know that, right?"
"Why do you say that?" he asks.
"Just this morning you were going on about perfect moments and the first day of the rest of our lives, and you've spent the whole day since then trying to get me back together with someone who I know you see as some sort of…" I pause, searching for the right term. "…rival for my affections."
Peeta quirks his eyebrow at me, and I can see the laughter in his eyes. "Do I need to worry about any rivals for your affections?"
I decide to get into the playful mood, because it's easier than dwelling on how my morning with Gale went. "There's only one man who has a claim on my affections, and it's not Gale." I give Peeta the dreamiest smile that I can muster on purpose. "It's Rye."
Peeta's laughter is loud and uncontrolled. After a few seconds I can't keep a straight face any longer and join in. It feels good to laugh after all the tension of the morning. Soon we're both laying back on the bed trying to contain ourselves.
"That was mean," Peeta says, propping himself up on an elbow so he can look down at me. "I'm going to have to get back at you for that, Miss Everdeen."
"That's okay," I say, "I have a pretty foolproof escape plan."
"Oh yeah?" Peeta says with a smile. "What's that?"
I'm already pulling him down for another kiss as I respond. "I don't plan on being Miss Everdeen for much longer."
…..
I have to admit, I'm really nervous to see the reaction to this one.
My natural inclination in these author's notes is to explain and justify every choice I made in each chapter, and never more so than with this one. I don't do that, because I think the story should stand on its own and the readers should be free to interpret things however they like. But if you ever have any questions about any of that, feel free to ask in a review, or hit up my ask box on Tumblr. And thanks again for reading!
Next chapter: Well, it should be kind of obvious what happens next chapter, right? Here's a hint, just in case:
Preview quote from Chapter 8:
"Okay, so nothing special. Just the marriage of the Co-Victors."
