Katniss may just be cool.

It was bothering me. The fight we had was the only thing I could think of, all day and all night. Once the happiness of Gale and Mom reuniting wore off, all I wanted to do was tear and my hair and yell and cry. Even though I am a drama queen, no, I kept my emotions under control.

That evening, after Gale left, Mom came into my room to talk to me. I braced myself for an erupting volcano, but surprisingly, she only seemed a little bit annoyed with me. I was glad she came to talk to me while she was still happy about Gale.

She came and sat on the foot of my bed and I put down the book I was reading. "Hey, Mom."

"Rose..." she sighed. "Why did you do this? I have to thank you for trying to hard to get us to be friends again, but what would have happened if I was feeling annoyed and hadn't forgiven him easily? What would have happened if he was mad at me, and had just left without saying anything? Please, Rose, next time you try something reckless like this just warn me. But I have to admit that it made me feel a lot better, so thank you, thank you very much."

I grinned. "I knew you'd be happy, Mom," and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry too," I said after a moment. "I should have told you I was doing this, but I was just too curious about who this guy was. I thought maybe you'd stop me from telling him to come here."

"Well, I probably would have," she admitted, and both of us laughed.

"So. Ryan. Tell me about him," Mom said, raising her eyebrows.

My throat started closing up again, and tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. Stupid feelings. "He's...no one," I managed to get out of my mouth. "He's a person whose life I ruined by lying to him," I whispered. "And then to pay me back he only sent his dad to our room, which was the nicest thing someone can possibly do to a person who broke his heart."

"Rose," my mom said softly, "It's time I told you...when I was your age, I broke two peoples' hearts, constantly, at the same time."

"What?" I said, gaping. "How...who were they?"

"Gale Hawthorne and Peeta Mellark," Mom replied, which made me even more amazed. "You see, after I went off to the Hunger Games, Dad admitted his love for me and I...you know...kissed him a few times. It didn't mean anything at first, but then once I felt something for him. And then at the end I told him it was all fake, and he got...mad. At me. And the feelings between us were all cold. Meanwhile, I came back and Gale kissed me in the woods and I don't know if I felt something because I was unsure. And then Peeta and I became friends again and Gale got whipped...I was shocked because he was my best friend, my confidant. And I kissed him. Later, Gale told me he loved me and then...it became all complicated...and then Gale did something that killed Prim and I couldn't look at him again, and he left because of that. And then I told your dad I loved him. So I broke Gale's heart at the end but now I'm glad he's okay."

I was astonished and glad to hear the whole story at last. "Well thanks for telling me, Mom," I said. "You didn't have to hold it in for so long. But now I guess I understand how you felt...so what should I do?"

"I think you should go and and make up with him immediately, and solve whatever problems you have, Rose. Don't let it wait decades like I did."

"He's not going to listen to me," I sighed. "He probably won't even open the door to me. I've done and said too many bad things for him to even just forgive him like that..."

"You did do something good for me," my mom told me, and I looked at her in confusion. "Rose," she explained, "You made his dad feel a lot better than he probably was feeling! That's a huge gift you gave him! Maybe things in his family are on a much higher note, now."

The spark went off in my brain. "OH! I get it! Mom, you're brilliant! Thank you! I'm going to go up there at this second!" I yelled, and rushed out the door, slamming it shut behind me.

After I got out the door, however, I paused. The anxiety levels in my body had suddenly reached their all-time high. I didn't know if I had the courage to do this. But I started walking up the stairs, anyway. An ignored apology is better than no apology at all.

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