Complete and utter shock caused me to freeze. I was unable to process what she had just told me. She had been through it too. She knew exactly what the torture was like. She had experienced all of the fear and uncertainty and self-loathing that came along with it. And she had survived. Somehow she had fought it and become the laughing smiling person that she now was. Or usually was, for the person before me was as far from smiling as possible.
My hands were still wrapped around hers so I gave what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze. I continued to let the information flow over me, trying to comprehend it all. The hijacking had been hell for me but I couldn't imagine her experience. When it had been performed on me it was a perfected procedure. The process to get it there must have been unimaginably difficult and painful. And Iris had had to endure it all.
Worse still, she had been turned over by her own father. The person who was supposed to protect her in everything, subjecting her to terrifying pain and horror. Even thinking about it was heartbreaking, to have lived it, well I don't even have an idea of what that must have been like.
Pulling myself from my thoughts, I looked up at Iris. She was deathly pale. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated.
"I've never told anyone that before. The only people who knew were Kraus and my family. They kept me locked in the house so no one would witness my episodes. So no one could come to my rescue."
"I don't know what to say."
"Please don't say anything. I'm too afraid to talk about it right now. I'll calm myself down and tell you more but right now I just can't."
Something deep inside me urged me to put my arm around her. I did and pulled her close. It was the closest I had been to anybody in longer than I could even remember. The warmth from her body, her rapid heartbeat accelerated by fear, felt foreign against me. Iris trembled against me but stayed silent. No sobs escaped her lips, no whimper or cry.
I don't know how long we sat like that before she drew away from me. Taking only a moment, she composed herself and straightened her back, shoulders squared.
"I'm sorry for that. I should be stronger."
"Don't apologize. You have every right to be a complete wreck and yet you are so strong."
Iris steadied herself with a deep breath and continued. "Finally when hijacking had been perfected, Kraus turned over the knowledge to the Capital. He never admitted that the test subject had been a human but I doubt they would have cared anyway. You of all people know how little they value life. He became one of the Capital's favorites for providing them with their new favorite method of torture. So he moved out there and I never saw him again. The only small bit of mercy of the entire thing."
"I am so sorry." I didn't know what to say. But then I asked the question gnawing at my brain. "I'm not exactly sure how to say this so forgive me if I say anything that offends you. But how did you recover? You seem so normal, so to say, no episodes or flashbacks. How do you do it?"
I hadn't expected her response to my question. Before she had seemed like she had slightly recovered from the pain of sharing her story with me. But all progress she had made completely disappeared. The shaking returned with a ferociousness even stronger than before. She clamped her eyes shut and covered them with her fists. I didn't know how I had caused this but the fact that I had haunted me. I pulled her even closer.
"I will tell you but I can't handle it now." It got worse? "I promise I will tell you but please don't ask me to yet."
"I won't do anything you don't want me to," I assured her. Gently removing my arm from her shoulders, I stood up and walked to the back of the bakery. I returned with a glass of water. Iris accepted it without a word. She took small sips, not stopping until she had slowly drunken every drop. Setting the cup down on a small table beside the couch her hands stayed steady.
"That's why when we were in the park I knew exactly what to do. I've had many of my own rages like that so I can understand what was going through your head. But do you understand now that I don't resent you at all?"
I never thought I would meet someone else who had experienced the hijacking. Now that I had I wasn't sure what to make of it. But somehow I did feel less guilty. Iris knew that I would never actually try and hurt her. She didn't blame me because she had done exactly the same before.
"Can you please forgive me?" I pleaded.
"You did nothing wrong but yes. Peeta, I forgive you."
Her words washed over me and soothed my doubts. I didn't know what else to say to her but knew that after the moment we had shared it would be nearly impossible to go separate ways for now.
"Would you like to go for dinner?" I asked my voice oddly cordial.
Iris looked surprised but I could see a glimmer of hope that I wasn't going to shut her out. "I would like that. But I'm not really in any condition to go anywhere. Would you mind if we went to my house?"
Nodding my consent, I realized that I didn't even know in which part of the district she lived. We both walked to the door and stepped outside as I locked the bakery behind us. The silent walk to Iris's house took about ten minutes. She pointed out which house belonged to her.
It was smaller than my mansion in Victor's Villages but bigger than the house I had lived in before the reaping. When Iris had talked before about buildings being beautiful I hadn't understood what she meant. But now I got it. Everything about the house flowed seamlessly together, from the quaint looking shutters to the warmly painted front door. I couldn't put my finger on it but the house looked like it was hiding a secret. A delightful one that the world couldn't wait to find out. But for now it was holding onto the little secret, the thing that gave it its charm.
"Did you design this?" I almost whispered; the house had a strange effect on me.
"Yes, a lot of the houses here are going to be built using a similar model. Do you like it?"
I nodded and followed her through the door. The inside was just as lovely. The furniture and paint colors were inviting and homey yet modern at the same time. At Iris's invitation, I sat down at the wooden kitchen table.
Silent once again, Iris bustled around the kitchen, pulling out food from the fridge and heating it up, chopping vegetables to put together in a salad. One of the things about having to rebuild almost the entire district was that all of the houses had very up to date technology especially in the kitchen. I offered my help and she soon had me setting the table as our meal cooked on the stove.
"You know when I invited you to dinner I didn't mean for you to make it for me," I said when I had finished my task.
"It's fine. You know it's strange but I always feel that cooking comforts me, gives me something to do with my hands." I was surprised that she felt that way. Baking had always had the same effect on me as well.
While the food continued to cook Iris excused herself for a moment, mumbling something about looking a mess. I didn't see what she meant but I returned to the seat at the table.
Thinking back to this morning I couldn't help but be amazed by the day's change of events. When I woke up I had been expecting another empty day, pouring myself into my work and desperately trying not to feel anything, only to come home to a dark house full of nightmares. But the things Iris had said to me had changed everything. It was the last thing I had expected her to say and yet probably the only thing she could have to take away my guilt.
But now more than anything I needed to find out how she had gotten over it. There was almost nothing I wouldn't do to get rid of my episodes and flashbacks. And I couldn't fathom what had caused her to break down when I asked how she had healed. It was all I could do not to ask her again. But after her strength in sharing the secret with me there was no way I was going to cause her anymore pain by pressing the subject.
Iris returned in a plain shirt and pants. She had brushed out her long waves and secured them once top of her head and they tumbled the rest of the way down her back. Most of the redness was gone from her eyes and I could see that she had washed her face. The traces of the light makeup she wore was gone, leaving behind only her true features. Yet now that I had seen her without it I couldn't understand why she felt the need to put it on in the first place. Her skin was impossibly smooth, her eyes striking, her lips a bright pink. I had registered her beauty before but now it hit me full force. Even trying not at all she was truly breathtaking.
Just then a timer rang and I was shaken out of my thoughts. Iris glided over to the stove and turned down the heat. Reaching into the cabinet next to her, she pulled out two bowls and began ladling the soup into it.
"I know it's not really a summer dish," she said almost apologetically. "But hot soup always calms me down. I hope you don't mind?"
"No it sounds perfect, thank you," I accepted my bowl.
We ate in silence for a few minutes, exhausted by the day's events and allowing the strength from the food to flow into us. Finally Iris broke the quiet.
"I'm sorry you had to see me that way. I had promised myself that I was going to be strong and not break down. But I guess I was just too weak."
"Actually I'm amazed at how strong you are. And you have no idea what your words meant to me. This is the longest I've been aware of the world around me since the picnic. And it's all because of you."
She stared down at the table, her hair falling forward to hide her face. I got the urge to push it back, tuck it behind her ears so that I could look into her eyes. My hand reached out but I forced it to grab my soup spoon instead.
"I won't really be able to thank you as many times as I would like but for now let's stop talking about it. Not healthy to wallow around in pain, trust me I know," I finished with a wry smile.
"You're right. You know it's kind of funny. I told you a secret about me that I have never shared with anyone else and yet I barely know anything about you. Well besides that things from the interviews, but something tells me those aren't truly you. So tell me about yourself," she requested.
It was true what she had said, about not really being myself in those interviews. Yet I had no idea where to begin. "What should I tell you?"
"Anything. I don't care if it's insignificant. Just tell me anything about yourself."
"Well my favorite food is bread if you can imagine."
She threw back her head and laughed. "Come on, that's way too cliché. Tell me you're joking."
"No, it's true," I protested. "A person would have to love it to spend as much time with it as I do."
"True. My favorite is strawberries but I don't have as good a reason for it as you do. Although I have to say, your sourdough bread might be a close second."
"Not your first favorite? I'm offended."
"I'm just not that impressed with your quality. I think it's because you can get away with it because you are the only bakery in the district. I may have to open one up to just to give you some competition," she joked. "I'll be designing it so we know that the building will be prettier."
"You know I might be forced out of business then. So many of my customers these days have been complaining about the building. They say that it's not pretty enough and it makes them lose their appetite for bread."
"They can all come to me then. But don't worry, I'll still remember you when I'm rich," she said sticking out her tongue.
I laughed at the childish gesture. "Ok, your turn. What's something about you?"
She scrunched up her eyebrows in thought. "When I was little I wanted to grow up and be president. I was going to build everybody castles to live in and make everyone dress up every day. And I was going to go around visiting the districts in a carriage, tossing candy for all the kids."
"Sounds like you'd make a pretty good one. I wouldn't mind living in a castle with candy." Sure most of it was unrealistic but it was a nice world to imagine. One where everyone had a warm place to live and enough to eat. After the rebellion life throughout Panem had changed drastically for the better but sometimes cute fantasies were still pleasant to imagine.
"My plans were pretty advanced for a little kid. I had everything worked out. But I think I like what I'm doing now better. Even if I don't get to wear a crown."
"I bet you are going to be shocked by my answer. Growing up I dreamed about becoming a baker. Try and contain you surprise."
"Why does everything always seem to come back to bread with you?" she teased.
"Hey baking isn't a job it's a lifestyle."
Iris cracked up. "That's the worst saying I have ever heard in my life!"
"Make fun of me if you want. Ok so now what? In school I used to be a wrestler. In the school wide competition I placed second after my older brother."
"It that supposed to impress me?" she asked jokingly.
"Only if it worked," I playfully responded.
"Not answering that one," she winked. "I used to run."
"For school?"
"No," she stated simply. I waited for her to elaborate but she gave no more information and something in her tone kept me from asking. "But I used to run all the time. Made me feel free, you know. Oh, favorite color that's a basic one right? Mine is blue."
"Orange. A muted one, like sunset." With a jolt I remembered saying the same thing to Katniss. It was the first time I had thought of her all day, a surprising feat. And even more shocking was that I wasn't overcome with missing her. In fact I found myself not wanting to think about her. I resented her for trying to claim my attention for any longer. I was enjoying myself and right now Iris was the only one I wanted to think about. It was a freeing feeling and I felt lighter than I had in a long time.
"Really?" she asked a smile spreading across her face. "Well then come one." She grabbed my hand and let me out to the back porch.
The sight before me took my breath away. Soft oranges and yellow exploded across the sky shot through with streaks of pink. The sun was low on the horizon, a gentle yet powerful glowing orb of beautiful orange.
Impulsively I wrapped my arm around Iris and pulled her into me. She rested her head against me and together we watched the sunset. In longer than I could remember I felt truly happy.
