Chapter Eleven
It has been longer than the instructions had suggested, yet I still cannot bring myself to pick up the stick that sits on the sink. I take a deep breath and reach my hand out to grab the test, before I quickly pull my hand back, once again changing my mind.
"Come on, Katniss," I scold myself, making fists with my hands and rubbing my eyes. "You have done this before. Just look at the damn thing."
I'm scared. I'm terrified. I promised Peeta I would tell him if the test is positive. I don't know if I will be able to do that. If I am, it will ruin his life. I can only imagine what his mother would do. I don't want to get him into trouble. I have seen what his mother can do to him. For such a strong person, you would think Peeta would fight back. However, I know that Peeta is so consistently good, that I bet fighting back has never even crossed his mind.
"Katniss," my mother calls from the hallway as she knocks on the bathroom door.
"Yes?" I reply, staring up at the door from my place low down on the cold bathroom floor.
"Can I home in?" she asks.
"Yes." She opens the door and looks at me worriedly. "I can't bring myself to look at it," I admit in a small voice. She closes the door behind her and then sits down opposite me. She stares at me for a moment before she speaks.
"How long has it been?"
"About ten minutes."
"Do you want me to look?" she asks.
I shrug my shoulders and force myself to meet her eyes. "I'm scared," I whisper. "I don't know what I want the results to be."
"No one is going to think badly of you if you don't want the baby - that is if you are pregnant, Katniss. You're young. No one has a child at your age on purpose," my mother replies in a calm voice.
"I never wanted children. I never wanted marriage. All I want is for Prim to have a good life. A baby will just make things harder for us. It will be one more mouth to feed, one more body to clothe, one more person to protect. What if I can't love it?"
"You will love it. A mother's love for her child is so strong," my mother reassures me. "I know I haven't been the best mother. It was hard for all of us when your father died. You're stronger than I am, Katniss. You were here when I couldn't be and I will never forgive myself for leaving you. You can do this."
I swallow hard and nod my head, unable to speak for a moment. I clear my throat and close my eyes. "What does it say?"
The silence seems to go on forever as I wait for an answer. In the end, I open my eyes, and the look on my mother's face is answer enough. Still, I have to ask again.
"What does it say?"
"You're pregnant," she whispers. I don't say anything. I don't move. I continue to stare at the woman who brought me into the world. She speaks again. "You have to decide what you want to do."
"I'm going to keep it," I say, the words spilling out of my mouth with finality.
"That's not what I meant. I mean, you need to decide if you're going to tell the father," she explains. "However, if you did want to... dispose of it, there are ways. The procedure can be extremely dangerous. You would have to decide if it is worth the risk."
"I've made my decision. I can't go through that again."
"What about the father? Are you going to tell him?"
"I don't know. It isn't fair to him. This will ruin his life. His family won't be supportive."
"It may not be fair to him and it may not be fair to you. Things might not go to plan. You already have proof of that. But you must put your child first, Katniss. Would it be fair to your son or daughter? You know what it is like to live without a father. Do you want it to be the same for your child?"
"No," I admit.
"I don't want to pressure you into telling him. In the end, it is your choice. I just think you should think carefully about this." My mother stands, hands me the stick, and leaves the room without another word.
But she doesn't have to say anything else to convince me.
I know what I must do.
"I'm going to tell him," I announce while Prim and my mother sit in the living room. "I'm going to do it now."
"You are?" Prim questions, dropping the book she had been reading into her lap. She stares at me with wide eyes, obviously surprised with my decision.
"It's the right thing to do. We had to grow up without a father. It's up to Peeta if he wants to be involved, but I must give him a choice."
I don't realise I have mentioned Peeta's name until mother speaks up. "Peeta Mellark?" I nod my head to confirm her suspicions. "He's a good kid."
"What if his mother is there?" Prim questions.
"I'm taking a squirrel to trade. The baker likes the meat. I'll ask for Peeta if his mother isn't there."
"Okay. Be careful," mother speaks, and I force a tight smile, before I grab my game bag with the leftover squirrel, and leave.
The cold evening is quickly turning into night and I walk as fast as possible in the hope I will get home before the moon completely comes out. The journey is shorter than usual, my pace being the main factor in this.
Once I reach the bakery, I am hit with the realisation that I have no idea what to say. However, if I want to get home before dark, I must do what I need to do right this second. Taking a deep breath, I gather all of my courage and walk around to the back of the bakery. I am relieved to find light flooding from the window and, as I walk to the door, I sneak a quick peek to make sure Mrs Mellark isn't present.
She isn't, but Peeta is.
I climb the steps to the door and lightly tap on the wood, making Peeta aware of my presence. I hear shuffling on the other side of the door and, before I know it, Peeta stands directly in front of me. His eyes widen when he realises it is me, and he quickly steps away from the door, closing it behind him.
"Hi," he whispers, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.
"Hi," I reply, not knowing what else to say.
"How are you?" he asks, always the polite person.
"I'm fine. Yourself?"
"I'm good."
I swallow. We're silent for about a minute, but he is thankfully the one to break it.
"Did you take the test?" he asks, his voice a whisper.
"Yes."
I realise we're dragging this out. We both know what I have come to say. I wouldn't have come if the test was negative.
"Go on," he says, the expression on his face giving away his nervousness.
"I guess I should start from the beginning."
"The beginning?"
"I was pregnant."
"Was?"
"I lost it."
"Oh. I... Katniss, I am so sorry."
"It's okay. Well, it's not," I say.
"I wish you had told me before."
"I never planned on telling you, Peeta. I didn't want to ruin your life - I still don't. That's why I nearly didn't come today. I wasn't going to tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"I am pregnant."
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand," he admits.
"I still don't really get it. My mother believes I was carrying twins, and that I lost one. My mother has never heard of a situation like this before, but I show all the signs of pregnancy and the test is positive. I'm a having a baby. I'm having your baby. I know it's hard to take in, so I'm going to leave and let you decide if you want to be involved or if you want to pretend that you didn't play a part in this. I understand what ever you choose. I just figured you should have the opportunity to decide for yourself."
"Katniss, there is no decision to make. I am not going to let you raise our child alone."
"You don't have to do this, Peeta. I won't hold it against you if you want nothing to do with us. Your mother-"
"My mother has nothing to do with this, Katniss. It is a lot to take in and it is going to take a while for me to wrap my head around, but there really is nothing to think over. I am going to be a part of our child's life."
"Oh. Okay," I manage to say, my mind racing with my many thoughts.
"Okay?" Peeta repeats, and it sounds like a question.
There are so many things we need to talk about, but we have time for that. So, right now, as I face the father of the child growing inside of me, I say just one thing.
"Okay."
