WOW! 60 reviews? You guys are great! Congrats Willow Mellark for posting review number fifty! You get….. nothing:D

Try again for review one hundred

To a reviewer named "Guest": I know Katniss is a bit of a brat at the moment, and she's supposed to be like this. Her emotions are supposed to be conflicting between being jealous of Gale and Madge while still wanting them both home. She accepted that for Gale to come home, Madge had to die… But then the rule changed obviously, so she's still in that mindset.

& for Peeta? He's supposed to be slipping up a bit in the beginning because he doesn't know how to talk to Katniss, how to deal with her. He's just started to talk to her & figure her out, but he'll be less annoying later I promise:)

Chapter 10

Katniss Everdeen POV

The night is horrible. Really, really horrible. My nightmares, old and new ones, blend together into some new, terrifying concoction. It begins with my father's explosion, and then the fiery blast carries into the Games, where Cato dies. Gale and Madge are so excited when they come home, that Gale laughs at me. He sneers at me when he kisses her, and laughs at my pleading for us to hunt.

"Did you really think that I would be the same when I came home? That I would want to be in your company? Catnip, I expected more of you." His face is full of mock disappointment.

The rest of the nightmare is consumed of my fear of what will happen when Gale comes home. I see him and Madge strolling through town, bunches of their children in tote. He stops to scoff at me, a lonely, bitter Seam woman, who can't let go of the past. I am shriveled and sad, sitting curled up on the side of a building. Seeing Gale with Madge makes me tired and I drift off in my nightmare, only to have nightmares within my nightmares.

I awaken and decide that our window shutters should be stripped of their chipping paint. As I bitterly scrape the dirty, time tested paint I think of my nightmare. Will I really let Gale being with Madge destroy me? Even to myself it sounds melodramatic. Given, Gale and I won't have the time with each other as we did before the Games, but even with Madge we surely will hang out. I'm friendly, almost friends, with Madge, so I don't think it'd be horrible for the three of us to hang out. But then I get possessive and decide I want as much time alone with Gale as I can.

I go back and forth in my head debating all of the possibilities there are with Gale coming home. In every one there is Madge. And in almost every one, Gale and I spend so much less time together it hurts thinking about even the probability that this will happen. I decide that I hate Gale. Not in the way which I'm rightful to think so, or in the way that he's done something wrong, but this situation he's in makes me hate him so much right now.

I go back inside when I am finished, and hope my mother won't mind that instead of having the old, dirty blue shutters we now have plain wooden ones. In a mirror, I examine myself. Under my eyes are prominent blue circles. The area looks puffy as well. My hair looks a bit brittle and dry, but it most always does since I wash it once a week. I turn to my side and notice I have lost a bit of weight. With the stress of the Games and feeding the Hawthornes and Gale, I barely feel hungry, let alone have much time to think about eating.

I comb my hair out with a brush that has a wooden handle. I take my time weaving my hair into a braid, slowing moving my hands under and over, under and over. I do a more intricate braid than usual. When I am finished, I realize that far too many strands of hair have fallen out, probably from stress. Oh well.

I sit down on the couch and automatically turn on the television. I count in my head how many people are left: Gale, Madge, Rue, Cato, Marvel, Thresh, Foxface. Alright. Despite the fact that any one of them besides Foxface could snap both of their necks in an instant, we're just fine here. Claudius Templesmith among others is talking about the new rule change and what it entails.

"Well Caesar, Seneca, I'm just dee-lighted! I'm so glad that the star crossed lovers might not be so star crossed after all," Claudius says with a smile.

"You know, I couldn't agree with you more. The idea of being able to watch Gale and Madge fall deeper in love, get married," Caesar says happily. He then adds "Oh and the children! I can't wait to see, and who knows, maybe meet their little ones." My suspicions are confirmed about the Capitol's thirst for the District 12 lovers.

We then see Rue, who is hiding Gale and Madge in the underbrush, camouflaging their sleeping bodies. She's covering them with twigs and leaves, mud and sticks. She then checks their water supplies and frowns when she sees that it's precariously low. So, she hops up the tree and jumps to another and then another, until she can locate the water. There's a pile of nuts and berries lying by the sleeping duo. I'm a bit surprised when Foxface emerges from behind the trees. She takes a few nuts, a couple of berries, and heads over to the water where Rue is filling up the pouches of water and helps herself to the stream's bounty once Rue goes back.

Prim wakes up early for whatever reason so the two of us do chores and tend to Lady together. I look at her; sweet, young, innocent, still a child at twelve years old. I compare this Prim to the Katniss I was at twelve; bitter, caretaker, old beyond my years. As we collect laundry from the clothesline, I muse to myself that all of my work has benefitted in more than just food on the table or Prim not taking out tesserae. No, I've been able to grant my sister a youth much longer, and hopefully happier than mine. Which is worth volumes upon volumes.

The two of us walk to school together and Prim skips ahead of me a little. I notice her shirttail is hanging out of the back of her skirt. I tuck it in for her and pat her arm. "You need to keep your shirt tucked in little duck." She smiles at me in return.

We part our ways at the main entrance to the school and I begin thinking of how to go about things with Peeta. I realize that I will probably have to apologize, and begin to obsess over how to do this. I'm not the first person who lines up to say their sorry and beg for forgiveness when I do something wrong, I'm far too proud for that. My apologies are few and far between and often consist of awkward muttered words and avoiding eye contact. What can I say? I'm quite the charmer.

Today History is after lunch, which is good because I don't want company during lunch. I suddenly wonder if Madge will return to school if she and Gale win. Will I be alone during lunch from here on out? Probably not, I think. If Madge doesn't return to school for one reason or another, something tells me I'll have a new lunch buddy. Or maybe I can just wander the halls during lunch? Hmm, something to think about.

I walk into the classroom quietly, my steps even now are ones of a huntress. I glance around the classroom and see most kids are sitting on desks, talking to friends. Others are just standing around. I take my seat in the back corner of the classroom and wait for Peeta to show up. Now I'm really freaking out. Not because talking to him intimidates me, but that I have to apologize. I need to think of a way to get around this before he sits down and I start an awkward conversation.

When Peeta comes in, he's with a boy whom I see him around often. His name is, well I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure his parents do something with pottery. Oh, that's it. They make and sell most of the dishes and other ceramics and other stuff. I wonder if Peeta's ever really talked to any of the Seam kids before. I usually see him in his mass of blond haired, blue-eyed friends.

As the bell rings, Peeta makes his way to the back row and sits down next to me. I realize I have no idea of how to start up the conversation, let alone throw an apology in.

"Hey," I say, my voice sounding hesitant. I'm not really looking at him, but rather beyond him. I learned this trick a while ago and found that it helps. Because it's less awkward than flitting your eyes around the room, and most times the person doesn't even notice.

"Hey." His blue eyes are watching me, observing steadfastly.

Now here comes the awkward. "About the other day…Umm, I just wanted to that say, I mean say that I'm, uh," I gulp a little and mutter the last words. "Sorry." I'm almost positive I'm blushing right now. I should really call myself Captain Smooth.

"It's really fine Katniss," He says lightly. "Your hair's pretty today." He doesn't wait for me to respond before he continues speaking, which is good because I don't take compliments well. "So I was in the bakery this morning,." Really? That's weird, I think sarcastically. "And I was taking cookies out of the oven, and I turn around and my brother's on the floor and flour's everywhere. So what do I do? I go over to help him but I fall in the flour and the cookies fly everywhere and of course the burning hot oven tray lands on me." I look at him after he finishes speaking. I notice his left forearm has a huge red burn mark and there's flour in his hair.

"Wow," I say. Because really, that story is ridiculous. Ok Katniss, you want to be friends with him, come up with something. "Did you put anything on the burn?" I ask, mostly because I'm imagining what Prim and my mother would put on a burn like that.

"I didn't really have time. My mother came in and yelled at us to clean up the mess and put more cookies in." He rubs his hand on the back of his neck. Must be a habit of his. I raise my eyebrow a little at this. The first thing my mother would do, if only from habit, is treat the burn.

I'm eyeing the giant red thing. That'll be nasty if he doesn't put something on it. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"I try not to think too much of the pain." Peeta laughs a bit, probably because of the pain. I grimace. Now that he's mentioned it, I can't stop staring at it. It's positively disgusting. I feel a little green, because the burn has taken off some skin, and honestly I don't do well with injuries of any sort. "That bad?" He says eyeing me.

I nod slowly. It's beyond bad. It's horrible. "You should put something on it." I'm horrified by the burn, but for some reason I can't turn away. I figure it's because I'm grossed out, which I am.

"I wouldn't know the first thing about that." That makes sense at least, not many bakers are known for their outstanding knowledge of medicine. I try to think of what my mother and Prim put on burns. They're a fairly common occurrence with the miners, and I've gotten a few in my life. Then I think of it: pot marigold.

"I think there's this pot marigold medicine that helps." Peeta obviously has no clue of what this is, so I explain. "You take this plant and mix it with other stuff to help burns." Another blank expression. "I have some at home that would help." Woah Katniss. You just invited Peeta to your home. No. Ok think yourself out of this one; he doesn't have to come inside, alright that's good.

"Do you mind?" He asks.

I shrug, but then decide to answer. "I can't look at you with that thing blistering on your arm." Peeta laughs.

As the school bell rings at the end of the day I realize I have to walk all the way to my house with Peeta, which isn't a five-minute stroll. I hope Prim can come up with something to talk about, because I am not going to keep up a conversation. But isn't it what you want, Katniss? To be friends with Peeta? I suppose, but I'm not a conversationalist, and plus I don't feel like having another conversation like we had on our last walk. Our last walk. That sounds foreign in my mind and very out of place.

Peeta lingers as the class files out, waiting for me to leave the room. We are the last to leave, mostly because I don't want to deal with any looks I'll get for walking around with Peeta. He's very quiet as we walk to the lower school and I assume it's because he doesn't want to say anything that will get me mad at him. I don't blame the boy. He's smart in that sense of knowing when to stop.

Prim is ecstatic that Peeta's walking with us, and the two begin talking. I thank Prim in my head for relieving what promised to be an awkward walk. I linger behind the two as they babble on. Both are good at talking about nothing.

When we reach the Seam, I begin to observe Peeta more carefully. He doesn't seem uncomfortable with being here, in fact his manner hasn't changed. I suddenly wonder how many times he's even been in the Seam. I imagine it hasn't been many, because what reasons would there be?

I look at his arm again and realize he's showing it to Prim. She's frowning and probably giving him some medical advice that goes far more in depth than mine did. She could easily give him a routine to follow to make sure his wounds heal in the shortest amount of time; when to put stuff on it, how long to, when to do this and that. I really can't imagine how Prim knows all of this stuff, but then again she's been helping my mother since I can remember.

When we reach my house, Prim runs out back to see Lady. "Wait outside," I mutter, and Peeta nods. I go into my mother's medicine cabinet, and this is when I realize I have no clue what the bottle for this concoction looks like. I call Prim inside and have her help me, and she doesn't even have to look before she pulls out the bottle.

"Peeta's so nice," Prim muses. "You should hang out with him more."

"You would certainly like that, wouldn't you little duck?" I don't know if I sound sarcastic or not, but I mean for it to be. She nods excitedly. I smile at her and how she never picks up on when I'm serious or not.

I walk back outside and Peeta's standing right where he was before. He looks completely at ease with his surroundings, which puzzles me. He's a town kid, shouldn't he be afraid of the Seam?

"Here." I chuck him the bottle and he stares at it. "I don't know how to use it, I guess just put it on the burn?" He nods, probably trying to figure this out on his own.

"Thanks," He says, pulling a small smile.

"You don't owe me anything," I say slowly. As an afterthought I add, "And I don't owe you anything." Except for the bread, my mind whispers.

"I know," He says calmly. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, Katniss." He waves as he begins to head out.

"Bye Peeta," I respond quietly.

Later in the evening, I'm watching the Games. Some trivial things happen, with the Careers and Foxface, but overall things are boring. Some statistics are shown, maps, and simulations of different possible scenarios for each tribute's death. I decide to wash my face during the last one.

When I return, Gale and Madge are awake and talking. The ointment's barely helped his wounds, and he and Madge are talking about going home. Gale mutters something about being worried that he's changed so much his family won't even recognize him. She mutters that they're both changed and that it's all right. They then get into a fight when Gale makes some jab at her being the Mayor's daughter. They have a love-hate relationship from what I've observed. They're fine one moment, fighting the next, and then they make up. Like now… now they're making out.

Their sweet mentor decides to send them a basket of meat, dried mostly. Meat? Usually when tributes get baskets, they contain berries and bread and cheese. I look more closely at the pair, and I see a few things I haven't noticed before, since I've been preoccupied with what their wounds look like and the whole hoopla. Gale, strong, broad shouldered Gale, who looked like a man at fourteen, is anything but at the moment. He's easily twenty pounds lighter than when I last saw him. He has huge dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks are hollow, and his hair's thinning, with patches of it missing in some places. His wounds make his body look grotesque, but his face still remains handsome despite all of his injuries.

Madge, who was thin going into the Games, is nothing short of skin and bones. Her wounds aren't to the severity of Gale's, but they're bad. Her blond hair is thinner than I remember, and it's condition now contrasts that it of only mere weeks ago. The bags under her eyes mimic Gale's, but all of the injuries and tiredness and weight loss are not what gets me. It's the hollow look that is in Madge's eyes. Quiet, brave, kind Madge, who never had much to say, but the one thing she had going for her was how she always had a twinkle in her eyes. Now the Games have taken that one sliver of who she is away from her.

I turn off the TV, because I'm almost positive I will get sick from whatever I see next. I fall asleep on the couch, a pattern that's become increasingly common. The monsters come and go, as they always do. I don't remember what happens while I'm asleep, but I do know what happens next. I wake up screaming; or rather I suppose I do because Prim and my mother are hovering over me, faces etched with concern. Prim sits down and hugs me, muttering that it's ok.

"What was I yelling about?" I hope it wasn't too bad, for Prim's sake. I hate for her to see me like this; weak, vulnerable, broken.

"Gale," She murmurs softly. Of course, what else would it be? "You were half awake when I came down." Prim's blue eyes are shining, tears threatening to spill over. Now I'm the one who is comforting Prim, telling her that I'm fine, that Gale's fine, that everyone's fine.

In school the next couple of days, Peeta and I develop a routine. We don't walk to classes together, don't talk before school, and I haven't shown up at lunch the past few days so he doesn't have an opportunity to sit with me. We do talk before and during history, before some classes, and occasionally after school. It makes me feel awkward talking to him in front of people, namely for the looks. Oh, the meanings a look can have. The one's I've been getting around Peeta seem to say, look, he's talking to a girl from the Seam, wonder what he'll get out of this one.

I find out a few things about Peeta that I didn't know before. He has two older brothers, which I knew, but I didn't know their names are Rye and Rusk. He can't stand the sound of nails on paper, which I think is random. He never takes sugar in his tea. He sleeps with his windows open.

Before math, we begin talking. "Favorite color?" Peeta questions. One thing I have to hand to him is that he always sounds genuinely curious.

"Green, like the forest," I respond automatically. "You?"

"Orange." Orange? I imagine a fluorescent orange jumpsuit that one of the escorts wore this year and frown. "Not bright. A bit more muted, like sunset." That makes much more sense, so I nod.

After school I am one of the first to head out of class. As I make my way to Prim, I realize I forgot my notebooks in the classroom. Shoot, I think. I have tests in two classes tomorrow. It's not like studying has ever ranked high on the totem pole in my book before. Nonetheless, I run back and grab what I need. As I go to round a corner, I hear Peeta and some boy talking.

"What's with you and Everdeen?" I freeze at the mention of my name. "You've been with her an awful lot lately." Peeta simply says so, and his friend continues. What's this kid's name? I should pay more attention to my classmates. "She's kind of scary, man." Chapman, I think triumphantly. That's his name. His parents run the grocery store. "But I guess I could put it aside if there were other reasons." There's so much loaded in this sentence, so much this boy is insinuating about Peeta's relationship with me. That he's simply using me for something physical, that I'm just someone who can be dealt with in bed. It makes me gag. I can't blame him completely, however, because it isn't uncommon for Seam girls to go from bed to bed, especially if they can get their hands on a merchant.

Peeta doesn't laugh at this, which is what I expect. "She isn't that frightening. And you know me…" Peeta trails off. "I would never. I have never done anything like that." Peeta's friend chuckles and says that everyone knows this. "I just figured that I've gone to school with Katniss since I was five, and I barely know her, so why not get to know her? She's nice." Peeta concludes. I almost laugh at this. I have been a lot of things to Peeta Mellark, and nice isn't one of them. But he stuck up for me. Hmm, maybe he is worth trusting?

Suddenly I wonder what Gale will make of our friendship, if he'll think like Peeta's friend or just assume it's innocent. I shrug it off, but then continue my train of thought. Will it always be me thinking of what Gale makes of my relationship with Peeta? Is this why I'm…friends, I use the word tentatively in my mind, with him? I stop mulling it over when I find Prim, but these thoughts will continue to nag me, I know it.

Peeta, you're such a klutz.

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