Seam

Late September brings a chill and a growth spurt for Prim. When we pull out our winter clothes to see what we'll need in the coming months, her feet have outgrown her heavier shoes and the sleeves of her coat leave a few inches of her lower arms uncovered. Luckily her coat is still in good condition so I'll be able to trade it to help offset how much it will cost us for her new one. The rest of her coats have been hand-me-downs from me so we've never had to actually get her one from somewhere else. This will be one she'll grow into and hopefully keep until she's out of the reaping.

When I mention it to Gale, he tells me that they might have a coat that's too small for Rory but still too big for Vick. He's not happy when I insist that it's not practical. Vick is growing like a weed and given how his brothers grew I wouldn't be surprised if he went through his coat as well as Rory's old one this season. Prim needs her own coat and I am more than capable of finding things to trade for it. He grumbles but he must understand. He's Seam.

I still owe Peeta. I can't add anyone else to my list, even if it is Gale.

Finding a time and place to even consider repaying Peeta seems to get harder and harder by the day. He sprints out of the class we share the moment the bell rings and he almost never lingers in the hallways after school lets out anymore. On top of that, the only days I ever really go to the bakery are Sunday and Wednesday, and Peeta seems to have those days off. He's never in the back when Gale and I trade with his father. I haven't even been able to stop these last couple of Wednesdays. I've brought the kids to look in the window but we've had to scurry off when we notice Mrs. Mellark at the counter. It seems that in Peeta's absence, she's taken over his shift. Prim and Posy hate this new schedule and I know the two of them are trying to figure out the witch's new day off.

Peeta insisted that I don't owe him anything, but I can't accept his charity without paying him back. Especially after the fuss that Gale gave when he found out. Apple bread in lieu of sourdough is clearly charity and I might have accepted it when Peeta gave it to me but that's merely because he is a good persuader. So far, I'm not doing very well with my debts to him.

In some ways I'm wondering if he's avoiding me because he knows I want to repay him. He clearly doesn't want me to for some reason. Maybe Gale is right and Peeta wants to keep this over my head for when he really needs something like the other merchants tend to do. But I can't see Peeta doing that. I think he just doesn't understand debt.

I watch him, trying to figure out what I can do for him. I watch for any sort of indication of cold or sickness. Prim is getting better with remedies and she would surely make something if I asked her. But he doesn't get sick. He lives above a bakery so clearly food is not a viable option, and even so the last time I tried that was a disaster. Prim enjoyed the pastry but I'm not willing to waste anything now that winter is approaching. He is always surrounded by friends and doesn't appear to want for anything. What do you give to the boy who has everything and wants nothing?

He must want something. Everyone in this district wants something, even the Undersees. The question is just what it is and if I can get it for him.

I go to the meadow hoping that I'll find him there a few times but he never shows or we both miss each other. I try to follow him after school but he's so quick in leaving that I lose him in the hallway every time. I would give up, chalk everything up to Peeta just being Peeta, but I can't sleep at night.

With each day that goes by, I wonder if I'm ever going to rid myself of Peeta Mellark.

...

Winter shoes are hard to come by in the Seam. Prim's feet are nearly full-grown now and that size in particular is a rarity. It's easy to find shoes for little kids because their feet are always growing and their feet can only cram into a pair for so long before they just won't fit. Once your feet stop growing, you tend to grab a pair of shoes and keep them until the bottoms wear out – and even then you figure out how to make them last one more season.

Prim will have to get her new pair from the cobbler since there aren't any at the Hob. It's an expense that I'm not thrilled about but as the cooler air sets in it's only a matter of time before Prim's cloth shoes lose their practicality. She needs them, so she'll get them. We'll just have to figure out where we can budget.

I didn't do too terribly trading Prim's coat. It cost me her coat and a couple of hares but I manage to get her a jacket that will fit her for the winter. It's a little more worn than I would have liked but with a patch over the elbow it will work just fine. I'm hoping to do similarly well at the cobbler's, but he's less likely to budge on his price than someone at the Hob. A couple of good hares won't look nearly as good to Mr. Cartwright as they did to Mr. Hawkins.

I plan accordingly and drag Prim in there on a Thursday, a day that I know Delly Cartwright is behind the counter. If I'm going to haggle with any of the Cartwrights, she's my first choice.

It's already late-October before I've scrounged up enough coins to even think of walking into the shoe shop. It's still not enough for the shoes that I know Prim is going to need, but I'm hoping we'll be able to find a price that's good for both of us. I walk the Hawthornes to the Town-Seam line first. The Cartwrights may not be the typical Town family who turns away Seam customers like scum, but it's bad business to bring four young Seam kids in while shopping. They'll be more willing to trade if it's just the two of us.

Before walking in, I check the window to be sure it's Delly working. It is. She's dusting some of the shelves, her mouth going crazy as she talks to someone inside. I scan the shop for her company and suck in a breath. It is Peeta Mellark.

Of course he shows up when I'm not looking for him. He's like a deer. I nearly stalk him for weeks while he evades me and now when I'm caught off-guard he walks right out in the open. He sits on the counter, listening to her talk as if what she has to say is the most important thing in the world.

Prim tugs on my sleeve.

"Katniss? Are we going to go in?" she asks.

The minute the bell above the door rings, Delly is on us. She whisks Prim away to take measurements and whatever else she has to do, leaving me on my own by the door. I look up toward the counter where Peeta is still sitting. He gives me a small smile and I find my feet moving quickly toward him.

"Hello, Katniss," he says. His eyes flicker over to Prim. "New shoes?"

I nod and he pats the counter next to him. For a minute I don't know what he's suggesting, but once he does it a few more times I realize he's inviting me to sit with him.

"I can stand."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself."

I do end up leaning against the counter.

In the weeks since our last meeting in the meadow, something has changed. I can't really put my finger on it but I can feel it. The easiness that usually surrounds Peeta Mellark is gone. He doesn't look toward me after he stops speaking. His hands are in his lap, his fingers crossed and clenching. His face is set toward Delly and Prim, his jaw so tense I wouldn't be surprised if he cracked his teeth.

"Are you okay?"

It comes out of my mouth before I can even think to swallow the words, but he just looks so uncomfortable. I remember how upset he looked that day in the meadow. He always looks so happy in school, laughing with his friends, but when I see him outside of the classroom he just looks tired, or tense like he is now.

He turns after I speak. At least now he's not ignoring me.

"Yeah," he says, his face lighting up in a smile. But I know it's fake. I've seen Peeta smile before. It's a very nice smile and this is not it.

"Are you sure?"

The fake smile disappears and his eyes shimmer with confusion and maybe exasperation. I wouldn't be surprised. Just ask Gale, I'm good at pulling that emotion out of people. But I don't want Peeta Mellark frustrated with me if he has more to deal with, so before he can open his mouth I try to fix it.

"It's just that I haven't seen you in a while and you looked tense."

The look doesn't leave his face like I would have liked, but when he speaks his voice is the warm tone that I'm used to hearing from his lips.

"I'm fine, really," he says. "How are you?"

"Good," I tell him. Then I nod to Prim. "I wish she would stop growing."

He chuckles. "Yeah, she's almost your size now, isn't she?"

I glare at him. "That's why we're here. She doesn't fit in any of her stuff anymore."

His face softens and he stops chuckling, his eyes turning away from me and looking toward Prim and Delly. The two of them, of course, are getting along marvelously well. They're laughing at something, giggles erupting out of their mouths. Prim is like that – she gets along with just about anyone. Our dissimilarities don't just stop at our appearances.

Peeta doesn't turn back to look at me.

If Prim were the one over here talking to him she'd probably already have him under her spell. The two would be talking as if they'd known each other for years and to anyone looking into the shop from the road it would appear that they had. Prim fits in well among the merchants with her blonde hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. I'm the only one who really sticks out like a sore thumb here and maybe that's why Peeta is being so distant. The only times that we've ever really spoken to each other have been away from the prying eyes.

Typical Townie not wanting to be seen interacting with a Seam girl, a voice in my head says. It's Gale's voice and not my own, which doesn't surprise me. Gale has said a variation of this so many times before that it's stuck in my subconscious. But I know Peeta isn't like that. Or at least I hope he isn't.

As if he's a one man audience to my inner thoughts, he turns back and nods to my sister. "Delly will make her a good pair," he says. And then we fall back into silence.

"What are you even doing here?" I ask. It comes out harsher than I anticipated, but it's a valid question I think. It's a Thursday and, from our treks to the bakery lately, I figured that his day off was Wednesday. He only had one before. "Do you not work at the bakery anymore?"

It's a joke, or at least it's supposed to be, but Peeta doesn't seem to know how to take it. Flashes of all sorts of emotions cross his face and I can't really follow any of them. Instead he crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs.

"Does it matter?"

Of course it matters. Without Peeta at the register on Wednesdays his witch of a mother is there, perched on her stool like a hawk waiting for her prey, otherwise known as us. The first time we stopped by to look at the cakes when she was there I had to grab Posy because I was afraid she would be too slow of a runner and I had never seen Mrs. Mellark look so vicious.

"Yes."

He lets out a breath through his nose. "Yeah, I do still work there, just not as much as I used to."

"Why?"

His teeth clench and I can see the movement in his jawline. He mumbles something and I can't really be sure that I heard him right, but it sounded something along the lines of "having more important things to do," which I think must be a lie or a sarcastic joke. I may not know much about the merchants, but every other kid works at their family's shop in Town. What could Peeta be doing that is more important to his family than helping them sustain their livelihood?

Peeta looks like he's grinding his teeth, his eyes focused everywhere but me. I keep my eyes on him. It's been a while since we spoke, but I know that this behavior is odd for Peeta. He has never been anything but nice to me.

"You haven't been to the meadow in a while either."

He glances over at me briefly. When he turns away again, I can still see his face. He closes his eyes and lets out a breath. Then he looks back.

"What's with the twenty questions?"

I frown. "What?"

"Why does it matter to you if I'm not working at the bakery anymore or if I'm not going to the meadow?"

There is some sort of different sentiment in his voice that I haven't heard before. His voice is a slightly higher pitch than usual and his eyes widen just a tad. I can't place the tone. He almost sounds hoarse, like he's struggling just to get the words out.

And then he just stares at me. Waiting.

I don't know how to answer. I don't want to answer. So I don't. His gaze is too much on me though. I don't like how he suddenly can't look away. My chest feels too small and the walls of the shoe store are too tight together. I need to get out of here. With my head down, I push passed him and toward the door.

I'm not expecting for him to follow me.

"Katniss!"

I keep going forward. Maybe he'll stop if I ignore him for long enough. As I walk, more like jog, I listen for his footsteps. He's so heavy on his feet that it is easy to monitor his distance from me. He closes in on me quickly and to keep away from him I'll need to start running, but before I can sprint away he seems to surge forward and gently takes my wrist in his hand. I startle, jumping at the unexpected contact. He immediately lets go and mutters an apology.

We're in the middle of Town, me facing him, and neither of us talking. Peeta glances around and then reaches for me again, pulling me with only enough force to get me moving. We end up in the alley between the cobbler's and the neighboring shop. If it was anyone besides Peeta Mellark I'd be uncomfortable, but even now I'm not nervous.

Peeta, however, doesn't look comfortable. He's staring at me with a look on his face that I can't truly place. It's a mixture of confusion and pain, maybe a little bit of hope. I'm not sure what emotion that matches.

"Katniss, why?" He lets out a few breaths through his mouth while he waits for me to speak. When I don't, he continues. "Why do I matter?"

I look anywhere but him, his blue eyes suddenly too piercing.

"Please," he says, his voice cracking halfway through. That's a tone I recognize – desperation. It's the tone I used with my mother during those terrible months after my father died and she did nothing. I don't understand why Peeta is so desperate. Why does he care so much about my answer?

"I still owe you for the bread," I mumble.

I never thought it was possible for a person to actually deflate, but that's the only phrase I can use to describe what Peeta does. His shoulders slump and the corners of his mouth fall closer to his jaw. He closes his eyes, lets out a breath, and shakes his head.

"Of course. I'm an idiot," he says softly. I'm not sure if I was supposed to hear it. "Katniss, I told you – forget the bread. We're even."

"We're not."

"We are," he says and there is finality to his tone. "You don't owe me anything. We have a clean slate. Okay?"

"Okay."

He gives me a smile, or at least he tries. It ends up just looking like a grimace. I'm not sure what he was expecting me to say, but whatever it was clearly wasn't what came out of my mouth.

"Bye, Katniss," he says.

I nod and watch as he leaves the alley. I wait until he has completely disappeared before leaving the alley myself and starting off toward the Seam, my head spinning. It's not as if Peeta and I were ever friends, but he was always nice to me. He never seemed upset when he was around me. What kind of person am I to make Peeta Mellark, the boy with the best smile in the district, downtrodden and depressed?

I kick a few rocks as I keep walking toward the Seam. Peeta says that I don't owe him anything, to stop worrying. But I just can't stop thinking about it. Clearly there's something bothering him. His entire persona was so different than I remember it ever being. Maybe I could repay him by finding whatever it is that's bothering him and fixing it.

I kick another rock and cross my arms as I walk. Peeta is constantly on my mind and I don't like it. He makes me flustered. Today was supposed to be about Prim, getting her a new pair of shoes, and he had to go and ruin it.

I stop midstride.

Prim.

I turn around and start back for the cobbler's. Prim has already left and I meet back up with her about halfway to the Seam line. She eyes me curiously as I approach her and when I engulf her into my arms, apologizing for leaving without her, she doesn't say anything.

Instead, she waits until we're walking again to ask, "Why did you run out of the shoe shop?"

"No reason."

Prim raises an eyebrow. "Katniss, you nearly sprinted out the door. If Delly didn't have my foot, I would have followed," she says. "And why did Peeta Mellark chase after you?"

"I don't know."

"Katniss!" she exclaims, throwing her arms in the air as she talks. She's always been more animated than I have. "You're hiding something."

I shake my head. "I am not."

She keeps her eyes on me, slightly narrowed, as if she doesn't believe me. I glare back at her. Prim never used to question me. It's one of the reasons why I was able to keep the bread that saved our lives a secret for this long. Prim always goes along with what I say.

"Okay, Kat," she says, however I can tell that she's just appeasing me for now. She doesn't actually believe me.

"Prim, it's nothing," I insist. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not worrying about it," she states. "I just didn't realize you knew the baker's son."

"I don't know Peeta," I say. "We share a class – that's all."

She shrugs. "You know him well enough to talk to him. Maybe you could ask him what day his mother has off so we can finally stop by to look at the cakes again."

We look at each other and her innocent wide eyes are back. Her grin stretches across her face as she nods her head quickly. I shake my head and roll my eyes. Of course that's what she's getting at, those dumb cakes.

...

After school the next day I have to go to the cobbler's again. Since I ran out I didn't end up paying for Prim's shoes. I barely get any sleep that night because I'm kicking myself. I planned to take Prim on a Thursday because I knew Delly would be there and I'd be able to get a better price. Now I'm not sure who will be in the front and I'm not sure if I'll even be able to afford them. So, not only did I embarrass myself yesterday, but the potential is there to do so again today.

It's been years since I walked into one of the merchant shops in Town and got turned away because I didn't have what was needed. I know what I can afford and what I can't and who gives the best bargains.

I send Prim ahead with the Hawthornes, putting her and Rory in charge of getting Posy and Vick home. Then I walk toward the center of Town where the shoe shop is located. My feet drag and I walk slower than usual. The Cartwright clan in general are fairly decent people, so I know I won't get turned out like I would if Mrs. Mellark were in charge, but it's been so long since I've been in this position that I honestly have no idea how this is going to go.

I'll probably end up owing them. They might ask for meat from my hunts. Although I don't trade with them on a regular basis, Mr. Cartwright has solicited Gale and I on occasion, usually through Mr. Mellark.

I stand in front of the door for a few minutes when I arrive, dreading what could happen. They don't have to serve me. Shop owners can refuse service to anyone without any sort of reason and I gave them reason enough yesterday. They could turn me away flat and Prim will be out of luck for the winter season. I suppose she could wear mine. I'd rather it be my feet that suffer for my stupidity than hers.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door. The shop is practically empty – just the little Cartwright kid at the front with his head on his hand as he gazes longingly out the window. I'm not sure he even notices me enter. I can hear Delly's loud and easily identifiable laughter from the back where Mr. Cartwright often works actually assembling the shoes his customers buy.

I step up to the counter and knock on the wood. The boy must be about Prim's age, maybe a year older or younger. I've never paid too much attention to him. But when I hit the wood to get his attention he jumps at the noise, obviously oblivious to anything going on in the front end of the store. He winces and looks a little surprised to see me.

"Yes?"

"My sister came in yesterday," I say. "Delly waited on us."

He nods his head. "Yeah, hold on." He throws his head over his shoulder, not even moving toward the doorway into the back. "Del!"

There's a loud shuffle from the back and then the door swings open. Delly smiles. "Hi, Katniss," she says. She turns to her brother. "Go help Dad."

He hops off his stool and walks to back. Once the door shuts behind him, Delly turns back to me. "You're right about Prim's shoes," she says, pulling a ledger out from under the desk. She flips a few pages as she talks. "She definitely needs a new pair. I'm surprised she doesn't complain about her toes, but then again she probably hasn't had to wear her boots yet, right?"

Prim doesn't complain because she's learned that complaining doesn't buy a new pair of shoes. It's a reality of the Seam that Delly, with her cobbler father, wouldn't understand. But I bite my tongue because I need to play nice.

"So, what we like to do is ask for half the price upfront and then when you come pick them up in a week you pay the rest," she says with a smile. "If that's okay with you?"

I nod my head. I at least have enough to pay for today then.

She tells the price and it's less than I thought it would be, even when doubled. I give her a once over, trying to decide if she's cutting the price or something – because the last thing I need is to owe Delly Cartwright anything – but she just keeps smiling as if she's unaffected by my look.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday," she says after she takes the coins and starts writing in the ledger. "About Peeta. He's not usually such a jerk."

"He wasn't," I say.

I mean, he was giving me the cold shoulder and acting strange, but it gives me a weird feeling when Delly says it. She's constantly by his side and I don't think I've ever heard her say a negative thing about anyone. Especially Peeta Mellark. Maybe they've had some sort of falling out. They seemed normal in class today though – Delly even rubbed his back when he wouldn't lift his head from the desk.

She frowns and looks me over. "Oh. I just assumed it was something he said that made you leave. He's been hanging around Mr. Parkinson a lot so it wouldn't have surprised me."

"No," I say, but I don't really know how to follow up on that and I don't really want to tell Delly anything anyway. I'm not really sure which merchant Mr. Parkinson is – I don't keep up with the names of the merchants I don't trade with – but I know what Delly is getting at. Whoever this merchant is doesn't have tasteful things to say about the Seam and Peeta Mellark has been hanging around him. For some reason, it makes my throat constrict.

She lets out a breath that sounds almost relieved. "Well, I'm still sorry he was bothering you. He's usually pretty good with customers that come in."

I shake my head and hope she'll stop talking. I don't like how she talks about him so freely, as if she's trying to hammer into me that she knows how he really acts because she's close to him. Everyone knows that Peeta Mellark is one of the kindest boys in the district, not just her. I don't need her telling me the obvious.

"So I bring in the rest of the payment when I pick them up?" I ask, hoping to get out of here.

Delly nods, all thoughts of the previous conversation apparently wiped away. "Yep! They should be ready in a week but we'll let you know if anything changes."

I give her a smile and adjust my bag before turning to head out. I try to think of what I can do over the next week to make sure I have everything in order to pick up Prim's shoes. I have enough but it will be a question of what we'll have to go without next week. As I walk, I decide to take the longer route so I pass the bakery, just to check if the witch is there. If she isn't, I'll bring the kids next week on our way back from grabbing Prim's shoes. That will make them happy.

I take a quick look in the window and find that Mrs. Mellark isn't in there. Instead, the one of the brothers is at the counter. When I'm sure the witch isn't going to come out of nowhere, I step fully in front of the window, looking down at the cakes in the window. I don't understand what Prim finds so fascinating about them. It seems like such a waste of energy to put so much time into something you're just going to eat. But she thinks they're pretty and, since we'll never be able to buy one, letting her indulge by looking at them is the next best thing.

As I turn to go, I hear a girlish giggle. For a minute, I freeze thinking that it's Mrs. Mellark out on the prowl, but her voice is too harsh to make a giggle that high-pitched and sweet sounding. Curiosity gets the best of me. I know I shouldn't even care. But I find myself walking around the side of the bakery to see what it is.

I wish I hadn't.

I can't move. No matter how hard I try to lift my feet to walk away, I stand still. It's like I'm frozen in place, unable to blink, even my lungs not moving. I'm going to suffocate right here next to the Mellark's pen of pigs.

The blonde girl giggles again, running her hands through a very familiar set of curls. She's sitting on his lap, actually sitting on his lap, with her chest pressed up to his, her mouth sucking on his jaw, on his neck. They're sitting against the apple tree, the same one where I wanted to die and Peeta saved me by throwing bread. Right out in the open where anyone could see.

My stomach feels like it lurched into my mouth as my teeth grind together.

Peeta opens his eyes and the look of serenity he had before falls instantly. He must see me watching. Finally my feet find the strength to move and I sprint away, out of Town and toward the Seam.

When I push open the door, I'm out of breath. I slam it shut and sink against it, trying my hardest to suck in breaths that won't go in. I still feel like I'm suffocating. My eyes water from the lack of oxygen. I bang my fist on my chest to try and get my heart to stop beating so erratically.

My mother walks out from the kitchen area, drying her hands on a cloth. When she sees me, her eyes widen. "Katniss?" She doesn't come toward me, just continuing to stand in shock.

The bedroom door opens and Prim peeks her head out. Unlike our mother, she's at my side in a flash, wrapping her arms around me.

"Katniss, what happened?"

I don't know what happened. I don't understand what is going on. All I saw was Peeta Mellark kissing some girl and suddenly I feel like I can't breathe, like I'm going to be sick to my stomach.

I shut my eyes and let Prim rock me back and forth. I don't know what's happening to me but I don't like it. I don't want it to continue. I want it to stop. But when I close my eyes all I see are Peeta's bright blue eyes staring back at me and when they're open they leak water. I'm not sure which is better.

"Katniss?" Prim prods.

I can't bring myself to speak. Mostly because I'm afraid that if I open my mouth I'm going to do something stupid like cry, wrack those ugly sobs that flooded my body when my father died and not many times since.

Prim understands. She continues to rock. "It's okay, Katniss," she says. "I can use my cloth shoes. I'll just wrap them up in that old sweater you were going to take to the Hob. We'll think of something."

She thinks it's the shoes. She thinks we can't afford her new shoes and that's why I'm so upset. But it makes more sense than crying about Peeta Mellark kissing a girl so I let her go on believing it. She doesn't need to know.

Notes

End Part II.

So there was a fairly large time jump in this chapter. I hope it didn't seem too rushed.

Mr. Cartwright is both the cobbler and the shoemaker of District 12 – the technical distinction being that a cobbler repairs shoes, not make them from scratch like a shoemaker. Katniss will call Mr. Cartwright a cobbler, but you'll notice when Peeta talks about him he either calls him the owner of the shoe store or the shoemaker, not the cobbler. This is done purposely, just incase anyone has picked up on it or does in the future. Just a slight difference in dialect between Town and Seam.

I'm sorry about breaking Katniss's heart here. She doesn't quite know what she's got until it's gone and she needed a swift kick in the right direction. I know there are some of you out there skeptical of the endgame, but this is the bottom of the ditch, I promise. We're going to start working our way up again very soon.

Thank you all for your lovely messages and encouragement.

Next: Peeta and the beginning of Part III