Crash My Party

by Court81981

Modern AU. Peeta Mellark has never been able to say no to Katniss Everdeen. But after years as friends with benefits, that's going to have to change. Everlark.

14. Chapter 13-Turn This Thing Around

Author's Note-Thank you for sticking with me the past couple of months. Real life has a way of getting hectic when you least expect it.

This chapter took me longer than usual, beyond the real life chaos, in my efforts to be sure that Peeta's therapy is as realistic as possible. I've never been to therapy, but I have many friends who have, and it's a wonderful, healthy experience that seems to sometimes still have a stigma attached to it. Peeta's initial ambivalence towards it reflects that, and I hope that through the sessions I show that the benefit of it is apparent.

Thank you to iLoVeRynMar for so much more than I can even write here. You are MY Dr. Aurelius, haha. And thanks to streetlightlove and Pookieh for their continued support and friendship.

---

"Turn This Thing Around"

~Now~

(26 years old)

---

Sleep is impossible. He's so on edge from this latest series of nightmares that closing his eyes invites panic. He paces. He does crunches and push-ups. He tries to read, but the words dance wildly on the page. He even resorts to warming some milk. Finally he just flicks on the television and stares vacantly at infomercial after infomercial until the light in the apartment becomes dusky and the first rays of sun begin seeping through the blinds. He rubs his bleary eyes, drags a hand through his rumpled hair, and staggers into the shower.

Thanks to two cups of coffee and one can of Red Bull, he manages to get through the morning without making it obvious that he unintentionally pulled an all-nighter. His first two classes go smoothly. His sophomores actually impress him with their analysis of Steinbeck's The Pearl, especially since he's always hated that book (and wouldn't be the slightest bit sad if the school board ever took it out of the curriculum). But as he listens to their discussion, the crushing pessimism of the story darkens his mood further.

When he checks his phone between second and third period, he finds a text message from Annie.

Annie: how you holding up?

Peeta: Bad night last night but hanging in. Now go back to your husband and STOP texting me.

At lunch, he settles at his desk, boots up his laptop, and checks his personal email. As he deletes his junk mail, an ad for a jeweler pops up on the sidebar, sending his thoughts right to Katniss. With an ache in his gut and his appetite suddenly gone, he opens Google in a separate browser. His fingers twitch above the keys, hesitating. He starts to type Panem, Pennsylvania, therapy, but then he stops. Too vague. There are all different kinds of therapists and psychologists. He taps the delete key a few times and lets his fingers hover again. Then he deletes the entire search and starts over, typing, "What kind of therapist should you see if you're having relationship issues?"

He scans the list of websites that pop up and clicks on a few links, finding an article that seems to be what he's looking for. Individual therapy is probably the option that fits him best. It's definitely not family or marriage counseling, even if his love life is at the root of his problems. He continues to skim the article, but it's mostly about how to make sure your therapist is the right fit for you, and taking the time to get to know each other. It sounds a lot like dating, which is the whole reason he's such a fucking mess in the first place. Besides, he doesn't have time for the 'getting to know you' shit. He just needs some sound, professional advice—and fast.

His phone jumps on the desk. He shakes his head and exhales when he sees the display.

"Why are you calling me? You should be on a beach—"

"I am on a beach," Annie interjects. "I'm calling you from the beach." He can hear the smirk in her voice.

"Ann, you're on your honeymoon—"

"And I'm concerned about you," she interrupts again. "Besides, this is Finnick's morning to golf, so I'm just laying here in the sun, sipping cocktails and reading. I can talk. I want to talk. What happened? Why was last night a bad night?"

"Annie," he begins to protest.

"I'm not hanging up this damn phone until you talk to me, so if you want to waste your whole lunch break, by all means go for it."

With a defeated smile, he tells Annie about his latest nightmare, and his conclusion that he needs to see a therapist, just as she suggested.

"I've actually got a list up on the screen in front of me now," he confesses.

"Why didn't you just ask me for a name?" she scoffs.

"Because I told you I wasn't going to bother you on your—"

"Dammit, Peeta, you're like family to me. You and Katniss both are. Your happiness and well-being matter to me." There's a pause. "Hang on, Peet…Yeah, I'll have another of these…Okay, sorry, server came by."

He laughs. "No apologies needed. I could use a drink myself."

"You want my honest opinion?" she asks, her tone abruptly more solemn. "You should just see Dr. Aurelius."

"Wh-what?" he exclaims. "Are you fucking serious?" He never would have guessed Annie would have recommended that he see the same doctor as Katniss. Is that even possible, given the man likely knows his entire history with her, not to mention Peeta kind of harbors some resentment for this Dr. Aurelius. Didn't he tell Katniss that Peeta was part of her problems, and that the two of them were in 'an unhealthy place'?

"He is a phenomenal therapist, Peeta, and a great person. I learned so much from him."

"Yeah, but, is he even allowed to treat me, you know, given…?"

"It's perfectly ethical for a therapist to treat a couple separately," she volunteers. "And it makes it easier…should you and Katniss ever want to speak with him…um, together…if it comes to that…down the road. Which I really, really hope it does. It would be good for you both."

"If she wanted that, I'd do it. In a heartbeat," he adds softly. "I'd do anything for her."

"I know." She sighs. "This is a good place to start, Peeta. I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks, Annie."

"We'll talk more when Finn and I get home. I know your break is dwindling."

Before he hangs up, he reassures her that he'll be happy to get her and Finnick from the airport that weekend, despite their very late arrival time, and he makes her promise him that that's the next time he'll hear from her. He disconnects the call and turns his phone over and over in his hand while staring at his laptop screen. He clears the search engine and carefully types in the therapist's name, then with a deep breath he clicks. A second later what he needs is glaring back at him at the top of the page: Dr. Marcus Aurelius, Psychiatrist, MD, & Dr. James Woodson, Psychology, PhD, followed by an address for the practice, and several phone numbers.

He dials.

A woman answers and immediately places him on hold. He sighs, drumming his fingers against his desk, glancing up at the clock above his classroom door. Lunch always goes by too fast. He doesn't have that much time left, having talked with Annie for nearly ten minutes. After several moments, the woman returns to the line, apologizes profusely, and asks how she can help him.

He keeps his voice low. "I'm, ah, looking to begin seeing a…therapist, and ah, a friend recommended me to Dr. Aurelius."

There are several audible clicks, and then the woman chuckles softly. "Well, sir, you're in luck. Dr. Aurelius hasn't been accepting new patients for the last couple of months, but presently, he does have room for one or two new clients.

Shit. He hadn't even considered that there might not have been room for him in the doctor's caseload. Dodged a bullet there.

"Let's start with your name and date of birth," she continues, taking his personal information, and then she goes through an overwhelming series of questions about insurance and referrals. "Okay, now that we've gotten all that squared away, let's get you on the calendar, shall we, Mr. Mellark? When were you looking to start treatment?"

He hesitates and tries not to sound too desperate. "Oh, as soon as Dr. Aurelius has an opening would be great.

"Actually, you're in luck again. He was scheduled to be on vacation for the next two weeks, but Dr. Woodson had a family emergency, so Dr. Aurelius has delayed his travels and is holding down the fort in the meanwhile."

Katniss had said something about that when she confessed to him that she had been at therapy the afternoon of the rehearsal. For once, the odds seem to be in his favor, timing-wise.

"But," she continues, more clicking audible on the other end of the call. She clucks her tongue. "It looks as though he is pretty much booked solid this week. I'm seeing that he has an appointment available next—oh, wait! There's one this Thursday at eleven, a cancellation that just opened this morning. Will that work for you?"

"I'll take it," he replies automatically. He'll use a personal day. It's the end of the year; there are only three weeks of school remaining.

He can hear the smile in her voice as she says, "Alright, Mr. Mellark. You're all set. Please arrive thirty minutes prior to your appointment so you can fill out your paperwork. We'll see you Thursday."

Peeta thanks her and hangs up, gazing at the shot of him and Katniss that he's used as his wallpaper for as long as he can remember. He traces her smile with his fingertip and makes a silent vow to always keep that smile on her face—once he has her back.

He has to start thinking positive; he can't afford to think any other way.

---

With his hours at the high school, Peeta's used to being one of the first cars in the parking lot at the apartment complex when he gets home. But when he pulls in this afternoon, there's a sleek black Audi idling in one of the spaces nearest his unit. He steers into the space beside it and gets a glimpse of the driver before they both exit their cars. He pushes down the curiosity welling in him to know where she got those fancy wheels.

Prim tosses her blonde hair over her shoulders as she smiles at him. It's still a little odd seeing her without her trademark pigtails, though it's been years since she's worn her hair like that. Part of him thinks Prim will always be a gangly pre-teen in his mind. It's much harder to reconcile the tall, confident young woman she's become.

"Peeta," she says warmly, "I hope this isn't a bad time."

"Ah, no, it's not." He falters a little when she wraps her arms around him for a hug, a clash of emotions surging through him, but nonetheless, he squeezes her back. "I'm not always home from school right away though. Guess today's your lucky day."

Her smile widens, and her blue eyes gleam, brimming with happiness. "You know I almost texted you to be sure, but I figured what the hell." She pats her massive handbag. "I brought my Kindle just in case it was a long wait."

"Nice car," he says evenly.

"Rory and I just leased it. I'm still getting used to it. I've never had a new car before!"

Neither has Katniss, he thinks. As Prim gestures towards her car, his eyes are drawn to the gleam of the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand as it catches the sunlight. He motions to it. "And I guess congratulations are in order."

"Oh! Yeah!" She wiggles her finger at him and beams. "It just happened last week, after my graduation. Did Katniss tell you? I knew she knew!"

He nods politely. "She might have mentioned it." But he's not really in the mood to bask in Primrose Everdeen's eternal sunniness, not when dark thoughts of Katniss immediately eclipse it.

The other night when she had poured her heart out to him had been the first time Katniss had ever mentioned marriage with a hint of regret in her voice. Though it had never struck him before, he's starting to wonder if at least part of her attitude about marriage all these the years has been a carefully constructed wall, shielding her from something she never thought she could have, as opposed to something she didn't want.

But it seems the mention of Katniss's name has quieted Prim too. She drops her gaze, and he sees her take a deep breath.

"Listen, Peeta, I came by for two things." Prim twists the ring and her smile shifts, uncertainty etching her features. "First, to thank you for the graduation gift. It was really generous of you, and you didn't have to get me anything…"

"You're welcome, Prim. It's a great accomplishment," he says.

She scuffs the toe of her sandal into the concrete, dragging it back and forth, and she chews on her bottom lip. "And the other thing…well, I'm sorry about my graduation. I…" She looks up at him and takes another deep breath. "I never meant to start anything with Katniss…you know…when I invited our dad…I…I guess I'm just so happy that he wants to be part of my life again. But…I know Katniss really wanted you to be there with her."

His chest constricts a little. He remembers the pain in Katniss's eyes that night she told him about her father, and once again, it summons his guilt that he didn't just put aside his bruised ego and go with her to the damn graduation ceremony. He certainly never would have wound up with Madge in his apartment. He would have been with Katniss, and given how she had thought they committed to something more…She might still be with him right now. He fucked up. He really fucked up.

"She never made it clear to me," he says lamely. "She asked me to go several times, and when I told her it was really more for family, she didn't push the issue anymore."

Prim's lips lift in a sad smile. "She never does." She pauses. "But we see you like family, Peeta. And the fact she even asked you more than once…"

He levels Prim with a stare. "I'm not really following you."

"Katniss can be really stubborn sometimes."

A sardonic chuckle bubbles up. "Sometimes?"

"Yeah, okay, all the time…" She looks down at her hands, continuing to fiddle with her engagement ring. When she meets his eyes again, her eyes are mournful. "Look, I know what happened at Annie's wedding. And I know…I think my graduation had a lot to do with what finally pushed Katniss to do what she did."

For all the times he's resented Prim, he can hear the remorse anchoring her voice. He shakes his head and scrubs at his jaw. "It might have been the catalyst, but Katniss and I…we've had far too many chances to say what should have been said, before the other night. I've made mistakes too. I should have told her I loved her. Once wasn't enough. I should have been telling her all the time."

"She loves you too, Peeta," Prim says softly. "She loves you so much. I know my sister. I know wherever she is right now she's missing you. You're everything to her. Everything she's done she's done because she wants you happy, even if it meant she was miserable."

"What do you mean 'wherever she is right now'?" he exclaims. He assumed she had been referring to putting distance between him and her; he wasn't aware that Katniss was literally going away.

Prim presses her lips into a thin line and shrugs. "She told me she needed to be alone. I don't know where she went. Didn't say when she'd be back, but we have Gale's wedding Saturday so…" She steps towards him and places her hands on his shoulders, looking at him with a serious expression. "You should call her."

"No," he says hastily. "I won't do that, Prim. I want to…believe me, I want to so badly. But Katniss asked me to give her space, and I'm going to respect that. I have to prove that I'm listening to her and respecting what she wants. And I have to have faith that she will come to whatever peace she needs to find, and I'll be here for her whenever that is. I'll wait forever if I have to."

She stares at him thoughtfully then pulls him into another hug. She checks her watch and sighs. "I should go. If…um…you want to talk, Peeta, you can call me. Anytime."

He watches her drive off. Then he retrieves his mail, and with a heavy heart, he trudges up to his apartment.

---

Thursday morning he frowns at his reflection in the mirror for what might be the tenth time, then chides himself for being so ridiculous. He rips off the tie and sheds his suit jacket. He's overthinking this. Who the fuck is he kidding? It's a therapy appointment, not a first date, although from the wild somersaults tumbling through his stomach, it's sure as anxiety inducing as one. And he has a weird compulsion to make a good impression on Dr. Aurelius. He suspects the therapist must think Peeta is some kind of sex-crazed douchebag who's been using Katniss all these years.

Stripping off his button-down shirt and his dress slacks, he grabs his nicest pair of jeans and a polo shirt and splashes on more cologne. There. Casual but still classy.

When he arrives at Dr. Aurelius's office, the first thing he notices is that the waiting room, if you can even call it that, is nothing like what you'd find at a physician's office or hospital. It's small and cozy, with a large mahogany bookcase running the length of one wall. Two leather armchairs flank an end table, and three more sit under a wall lined with framed medical degrees. Straight ahead he can see the receptionist sitting behind a sliding plexi-glass partition. She gives him a kind smile.

"Peeta Mellark?" she asks. It's not the same woman he spoke to on the phone the other day. That woman sounded younger—more chipper. This lady is older, but her voice is quiet and soothing. Between her calming tone and the grandmotherly appearance, she reminds Peeta of his kindergarten teacher. (Of course, he's always had fond memories of kindergarten—it was the first time he laid eyes on Katniss.)

"Mr. Mellark?" she calls again. He nods and shuffles forward. She gives him another smile and taps her keyboard a few times. Her eyes scan the screen carefully. Then she reaches to her right and slides a clipboard across the counter. She places a pen atop the papers secured by the metal clip.

"Take your time with it." She winks at him and turns her attention back to the computer. He glances down at the clipboard and flips the sheets. Holy shit, there are a lot of them. He sighs and settles in one of the leather chairs to begin the Confidential Patient Questionnaire. The personal information and emergency contact information is easy enough, but he has to fish his insurance card out of his wallet to copy the requested information.

He had spoken to the receptionist at length about the insurance coverage for therapy when he made his appointment. He had been surprised to know that some providers don't cover therapy, and he had been shocked at the out-of-pocket cost for the sessions. Since he has good insurance, better than most others, his policy offers six visits with his co-pay. No wonder Katniss was so anxious to see Dr. Aurelius. He knows for certain she never would have been able to afford a therapist without it being covered by insurance.

When he reaches the question about the issues that have led him to initiate therapy, he skims the options again and again, knitting his brows. Not a single one of the choices really accurately describes his situation. It turns his stomach a little to consider what Katniss might have checked off whenever it was she filled this thing out. Far more things on here could apply to her life, particularly the parenting issues and self-esteem issues. His pen hovers over "sexual issues," but he retracts his hand. Sex is not really the problem. Finally he sighs and checks "other" and neatly writes in "relationship issues."

The final question paralyzes him: What are your goals for therapy? Truth is, he's not entirely sure what he wants to get out of therapy beyond how he can prove to Katniss that she is more than deserving of his love. But after ten years of keeping so much bottled up inside where it concerns her, it will have to do him some good to get it all out. At the very least, maybe it will keep the nightmares at bay for a while, until Katniss reaches out to him again, and she's back in his arms.

He scrawls some bullshit response about wanting to succeed in a committed relationship, then signs and dates the form, and moves on to the Therapist-Patient Agreement, a mind numbing document full of cancellation policies, fees, and page after page about privacy and confidentiality.

"Mr. Mellark?" the receptionist calls. "The doctor is ready for you."

"Oh…" he motions to the clipboard. "I'm not quite done…"

She smiles kindly and nods. "Leave them all with me, and you can finish up after your session." He hands the clipboard to her, and she jerks her head to the right and keeps smiling. "Right through the door."

His hands are suddenly clammy as he twists the doorknob. His heart thumps loudly, and he has to swallow a few times to ease his parched throat. He steps through the door and lets his eyes sweep around the office.

Unlike the waiting room, Dr. Aurelius's private office almost exactly mirrors what Peeta expected a shrink's office to look like. The furniture is elegant and simple, and everything is arranged to evoke a safe, comforting environment. It does not, however, have the stereotypical couch. Instead, a semi-circle of four leather chairs faces the bank of windows, and a solitary chair, where Dr. Aurelius is seated.

He's a bit younger than Peeta anticipated, perhaps his father's age, impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit with a pale blue pinstriped shirt and a maroon tie. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses perch on his nose. He rises when Peeta closes the door.

"Peeta," he says evenly, extending a hand. "I'm Doctor Aurelius. Nice to meet you. Before we begin, would you like coffee? Tea? Water?"

"Water is good, thank you."

Dr. Aurelius presses a button on the phone beside his chair and requests a bottle of water. Several moments later his receptionist enters with the bottle and hands it to Peeta. Dr. Aurelius resettles in his chair and motions for Peeta to take a seat in the chair opposite his. He reaches over and picks up a small recording device and clicks it on, though Peeta notices the doctor also has a legal pad on his lap.

"So," Dr. Aurelius says, fixing his gaze on Peeta, "normally the objective of your first session is to help me get to know you, and to determine what brings you to therapy. We'll also formulate a plan for what kind of treatment will be best for you and your needs. It's important that you feel at ease with every step of the process. There are no stupid questions. Ask away, whenever you're so compelled."

"Okay."

"Let's start off with why you're here, then. I don't see any referrals in your file, so tell me why you've sought out therapy."

There it is. He swears he sees it—the glint of accusation in the doctor's eyes that signifies he knows exactly why Peeta is here. Or maybe he's being paranoid. Either way, until he gets Katniss out into the open, she's just going to be the white elephant in the room.

"A woman," Peeta replies, testing Dr. Aurelius's reaction. The doctor remains quiet, but lifts his head slightly in a nonverbal signal to prod Peeta to continue speaking. "I, uh, I've been in love with her since I was a kid. She's a patient of yours…Katniss Everdeen."

The doctor's expression remains unchanged, neutral, but he steeples his fingers and studies Peeta carefully. "Peeta, you signed the confidentiality waiver. You know that whatever you divulge stays between you and me. That confidence also applies to all my other patients. Nothing that Katniss has ever shared with me regarding you, or your relationship with her, will affect your treatment. As far as I'm concerned, I know nothing of your history with Katniss, beyond what you decide to share."

It seems a little impossible to him that Dr. Aurelius will truly be able to do what he's just explained, but it does make Peeta feel slightly better.

"Is Katniss the sole reason you're here?" Dr. Aurelius coaxes. "There's nothing else in your life that could be contributing to your decision to see me…Family? Work?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm very fortunate. Things are pretty good."

Dr. Aurelius jots a few more notes. "Let's start with your parents then. What we see modeled in our parents' relationship during our formative years often shapes our own views on love and intimacy. Are your parents still married?"

"Yeah, they've been married—" he does the mental calculation in his head, "thirty-four years."

"That's a long time." Dr. Aurelius pauses, thoughtful creases appearing on his forehead. "Would you say your parents' marriage is a happy one?"

He can't help it; his mind veers to Katniss. What Dr. Aurelius just said affirms that her cynical attitude towards marriage, and her fear that she would never be enough for Peeta, is almost certainly because of her parents. He feels a sharp pang in his heart when he thinks about Katniss as a kid, wondering why her father left her, and as a teenager, watching a parade of men come in and out of her mother's bed. By now, Mrs. Everdeen has several failed marriages under her belt, and a litany of other failed relationships.

How did he never stop and think about how Katniss's past affected her before? How was he not more sensitive to her needs? He should have seen these things, should have known them. Some best friend and lover he's been…

"Peeta?" His name snaps him out of his reverie. He gives Dr. Aurelius an apologetic look at being caught daydreaming.

The doctor holds up a hand. "It's perfectly fine if your thoughts wander. Contemplation is good. And it can help dredge up memories. Can you tell me what you were thinking about?"

"Katniss," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. "What you said made me remember the conversation she and I had…"

"We'll get to Katniss," the doctor says gently, just a slight edge of reprimand in his tone. "Let's stay with your parents for another moment, because it will help us establish how you came to be in the place you're at with Katniss."

At first it feels a little voyeuristic talking about his parents' marriage, sharing details with a virtual stranger, but the more he talks, the easier it becomes. Dr. Aurelius remains quiet, nodding sporadically, scrawling the occasional notes, but it's not until Peeta pauses to take a sip from his water that the doctor interrupts.

"I didn't hear you say anything about love," he says.

"I didn't?"

Dr. Aurelius offers a sympathetic smile. "You didn't. Is there a reason for that?"

Peeta furrows his brows. Is there? He tries to recall hearing his parents say those words to each other. He can definitely hear his father's voice saying it to him and his brothers. His dad has never been shy about expressing his emotions towards them. His mother…well, not so much.

He replies, "I guess…I guess I don't really know. They've stayed married, and they live under the same roof, but I don't really remember seeing them being openly affectionate with each other. And if I'm being perfectly honest I don't think I've ever heard them say 'I love you' to the other. And actually…ah, my mother has never said it to any of us. She isn't a very warm person."

Dr. Aurelius cracks a shrewd smile. "Now we're getting somewhere."

They spend the next several minutes discussing his mother. Again, once Peeta begins talking, the floodgates open. Things pour out of him, things he's kept inside for far too long. Over the years he's shared his frustrations concerning his mother with Katniss, but she's hardly ever been objective, always quick to spring to his defense.

Thus, it feels cathartic to have Dr. Aurelius, a neutral observer, validate Peeta's feelings, such as the fact that he suspects his mother resents for him on account that not only was she was not in favor of having a third child, but when he was born, Peeta was not the girl she hoped for.

"I usually felt like nothing I could do was good enough for her. My brothers and I were good for working in the bakery and playing sports. I stopped trying to please her at an early age," he finishes. "I think I knew it was futile."

"Does your mother like Katniss?"

The question catches Peeta a little off guard, and it irritates him. He took psych freshman year. There's no way anyone is going to trivialize his love for Katniss, or whittle it down to some kind of inverse Oedipal thing.

"No, she doesn't," he says curtly. "But that would never matter to me. Not at all."

Dr. Aurelius's expression tightens a bit. "Okay then, let's talk about Katniss now. You say you've loved her since you were young. Tell me about your relationship...in your words," he adds hastily, as if he's anticipating Peeta's thought that the doctor already knows every little sordid detail about Peeta and Katniss. "Start at the beginning."

Peeta clears his throat and explains how he and Katniss bonded way back in elementary school, how his crush deepened all through middle school, and how by the time they were teenagers, he was in love with her. After he talks about the junior prom and how guilty he felt when he learned Katniss didn't want to go because of her parents, he gives a hurried version of what happened when he left the dance and went to see Katniss. He briefly recounts how they lost their virginity to each other, and that's when Dr. Aurelius stops him.

"It was Katniss's idea to have sex that night?"

"Uh, yeah, she was the one who suggested it, and…it's not like I hadn't thought about it a million times before then," he confesses. "I just never thought it would happen."

"After you had sex, did you tell her that you loved her?"

He gnaws on the inside of his lower lip. "No…"

"Was it a one-time thing, or did you have sex again?"

"No…not at first. Um...I mean, right after we did it, she made a comment about getting "that" over with, and I kind of assumed she meant she had just wanted to have sex to get it over with, and it wasn't about her wanting me."

"But she did want you." Dr. Aurelius arches a knowing brow at him.

He smiles ruefully. "Yes…But I didn't know that at the time. It probably wasn't the most mature thing for me to do, but I was hurt…so I kind of avoided her after so things wouldn't be weird. But then…" He tells Dr. Aurelius about the party at his house, where Katniss kissed him in the hot tub and told him that she really had wanted to sleep with him, and how they fooled around, but didn't have sex. "We had both been drinking, and I didn't want to take advantage of her like that, even if I really, really wanted to have sex with her again." He sighs. "And then the summer just kind of flew by...and my friends kept trying to set me up with another girl—"

"I take it your friends didn't know how just much you were interested in Katniss?"

"No, everyone teased me about Katniss. Especially my brothers. And my friend Finnick. But I always played it off and denied it."

Dr. Aurelius looks pensive. "I'm a little perplexed as to how you came to date other girls, if you were so in love with Katniss.

"I only dated other girls because I thought it was what Katniss wanted!" he sputters, realizing how ridiculous it sounds, even though he knows the truth behind his words.

"Why would you think that's what Katniss wanted?"

Peeta sighs again, sorrow tugging at him as he replays their confrontation from last weekend in his head, and then recounts what Katniss had told him, explaining how she had ultimately pushed him towards Bristel.

"There was another time," he adds quietly. "Halloween. We were in Maryland, for Finnick's fraternity's Halloween party. Katniss was drunk. She…ah…was saying things, about how she liked kissing me, and how good I was to her." He closes his eyes. It still eats at him; he thought he had been doing the right thing that night by not having sex with her. So many missed signals and blown chances; it's fucking maddening, looking back.

He continues, "I was helping her out of her costume, and…I didn't want to sleep with her when she was that drunk. But she thought I was rejecting her…it was right after that that she started encouraging me to go out with Bristel."

"And you did," the doctor states simply. "Because you thought it's what she wanted, and you always did what Katniss wanted, yes?" He leans forward. "So the question remains: why would Katniss want you dating other girls if she loved you too?"

Peeta has to admit that it does sound ludicrous to anyone who doesn't know Katniss's reasoning. He relates her theory that she thought Peeta needed to get other girls out of his system, in light of her mother's cruel comments and her parents' own dysfunctional marriage. As he speaks, he realizes any anger he had felt towards Katniss, after learning the truth himself, has evaporated; he now feels nothing but guilt that he reacted the way he did at the wedding. Not that he thinks anything would have really changed her mind about leaving, but they can't change the past, or the mistakes either of them made, so what did yelling at her really accomplish, other than possibly hurting her more?

Dr. Aurelius listens, compassion evident in his eyes, nodding frequently. Peeta suspects he knows most of this already, but the doctor has a decent poker face.

"Katniss has been down on herself so many times…I guess I just never knew the depth of her insecurity. It makes me heartsick that she could let the things her mother said affect her so much…that she really thinks she has to be something she's not, on my account."

"Can I ask when you told her you loved her for the first time?"

"Ah, well…after Bristel and I broke up the following summer, I went to see Katniss because above all, she was still my best friend, so I gravitated towards her for everything. And she comforted me…even though she had been kicked out of her house and was days away from essentially being homeless, she was there for me. We, ah, had sex in her room that morning, and then again the next night, her last night in her house. I told her I loved her then."

God it really sounds awful when he says it out loud. He expects Dr. Aurelius to glare at him in disgust, but the therapist's expression is static.

"What did she say in response?"

"Nothing. She kissed me and we fell asleep."

He scribbles something. "Did you tell her you loved her again after that?"

Peeta glances away, gazing out the window, trying not to let shame overcome him. "I tried, once or twice. She always stopped me. I figured for whatever reason she didn't want me to say it so…" He stops again, gathering his composure, ignoring the twisting sensation in his gut. "I know you told her that I'm part of her problem. I should have told her. I know that now. I should have told her every single day. I regret not saying it every damn day."

Dr. Aurelius holds up a hand. "Peeta, you and Katniss are both guilty of miscommunication. You can't dwell on things in your past that you can't change; you can only learn from your mistakes and move on. Let's get back to that summer. You and Katniss continued having sex?" Peeta nods. "At any point did either of you mention having a more serious relationship?"

He shakes his head and explains the whole friends-with-benefits arrangement that Katniss had proposed right before he left for college.

"So again, her idea," Dr. Aurelius interjects.

"Yeah."

"And you went along with it…"

Peeta releases a long, defeated sigh. "Because I wanted Katniss anyway I could get her. She was my best friend, and I was in love with her. I wanted her happy."

"Even if it wasn't what you wanted?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing by her," he says flatly. "It may not seem like it, doctor, and I know I have made mistakes, but all I ever wanted was to give Katniss what she wanted. It's only been recently that I've gotten really frustrated with her…but I know without a doubt I never ever would have walked away from her. I'll wait forever for her if I have to." He echoes the words that he spoke to Prim the other day.

"You said 'frustrated'," the doctor intones. "Frustrated with…?"

He scrubs at his jaw and momentarily draws his bottom lip between his teeth. "We're getting older. Our friends are getting married…it won't be long before they'll start having children."

"Marriage and family are important to you?" Dr. Aurelius presses.

"Well, yeah, I guess I've always just considered them inevitable."

Dr. Aurelius shifts in his chair and sets his notepad down. "I'm afraid our time is up for today, Peeta. This was a very good start. But I'd like to see you again next week, if that works for you?" When Peeta nods, the doctor smiles. "Excellent. And I'd like you to think about what you just said, about marriage and family. If it came down to it, and Katniss didn't want either of those things, would you still see a future with her?"

"Absolu—" Peeta starts to say, without a second of hesitation, but Dr. Aurelius holds up a hand in reprimand, and stands.

"Reflect, Peeta. We'll discuss it next week." He reaches out to shake Peeta's hand and motions towards a second door, different from the one through which Peeta entered the office.

He finds himself in a small alcove on the other side of the receptionist's cube. The woman gives him a cheery smile and waits patiently as he finishes the forms. With a few clicks, she informs Peeta the doctor has a Wednesday evening appointment available, if that works for him. He accepts it gratefully and she indicates the exit at the end of the hallway.

Once the door has closed behind him, he leans against the wall to catch his breath. It's a completely different feeling leaving the office than it was going in. His heart is suddenly, and unexpectedly, thrumming, blood rushing to his ears. He feels strangely exhilarated, oddly cleansed.

And even better, he feels hopeful.

---

~Then~

Sophomore Year of College

(20 years old)

---

~New Year's Eve~

---

"Fucking hell, Finn! What is this shit?" Thresh sputters, making a face.

Finnick grins and thrusts Solo cups at Marvel and Peeta. "Baked Apples. Woodchuck with two shots of Fireball. Drink up, bitches." He raises his cup in a mock toast.

"Oh my gosh that's so good!" Delly squeals, taking a long swig of hers. "I bet these fuck you up so fast!"

"Del, you'll have to drink that on the side. C'mon, pong is mixed doubles tonight, and I need a partner," Thom calls from where he arranges the red cups into two triangles, across the table from Finnick and Annie.

Peeta sniffs the mixture and takes a cautious sip. It's unusually sweet on his tongue, and when he swallows, heat licks the sides of his throat.

"Katniss is coming, right?" Marvel asks.

"Yeah, she said she was. She had to work until eleven."

"Shit, that's not much time to enjoy yourself on New Year's Eve. But I guess sad and lonely individuals have to have somewhere to go, and that would be the movies, right?"

"I guess." Peeta sighs. He dreams of the day when Katniss won't feel compelled to work on a holiday for the time-and-a-half pay, when she can just kick back and relax like the rest of them. She had been exhausted on Christmas night when she had climbed through his window for their traditional gift exchange and Christmas Vacation viewing. She had fallen asleep in his arms, and he had watched the Griswold family's antics alone while gently stroking her hair. He could have lain there with her forever, just letting her sleep, but she had stirred awake sometime after one in the morning, long after the movie had ended, kissed his cheek, and crept back out the window.

"Well, I hope she gets here soon. I want to stake my claim on her for pong before Brutus does. I'm gonna start this year on a winning streak." Marvel takes a pull off his beer and gives Peeta a smug grin. He gives his friend a half-hearted smile back. It always annoys him when any of his friends cozies up to Katniss. It's hard enough to think about her with other strange guys, as hypocritical as that is.

"Hey, where's my drink?" He feels a pair of arms wind around his neck from behind the couch, and warm lips brush the top of his ear. He glances up at Clove as she grins down at him. She comes around to sidle up to him on the couch.

They've been dating for a couple of months now. Clove had pursued him more aggressively throughout the fall semester, and though he won't ever admit it to anyone, he only went out with her after he learned Katniss had been on a date with that Dalton guy she had worked with over the summer. He liked Clove enough, and if Katniss was going to see other people, why shouldn't he? It was nice to have someone to go to parties with, and in the crowds at his home games.

Clove snatches the red cup out of his hand and gives him a sweet smile before taking a long swig of Finnick's concoction.

"Shit, that burns!" she swears.

"You can keep it," says Peeta. "I'm gonna go grab a beer instead. Marv, you need another?"

When he comes back from the kitchen, beers in hand, the sight before him turns his feet into cinderblocks. Katniss sits beside Clove; Marvel has moved to the chair across from them. As he stares at his best friend and his girlfriend talking, he can't keep his eyes off Katniss. Something about her tonight just takes his breath away.

The two girls are a complete study in contrasts. Clove, whose hair is perfectly styled in a neat ponytail without a single strand out of place, is dressed to impress, wearing a tight sweater dress over leggings that are tucked into expensive suede boots. Katniss obviously has gone for comfort over style, but the faded jeans hug the slender curves of her hips, and her long-sleeved t-shirt clings to her breasts just right. Her hair is still damp and coiled into a messy knot at the nape of her neck. Loose tendrils curl into her face, an impossibly sexy look. He knows if he got close enough to inhale deeply she'd smell like the vanilla from her body wash and shampoo.

"…hope to get to do a lot of sightseeing on the weekends. There are so many amazing places to visit. I want to get to Paris, and Rome, and Barcelona…" he hears Clove say.

While it appears to anyone else that Katniss is listening attentively, he'd know her 'that's-nice-but-I-really-don't-give-a-shit smile' anywhere. "That sounds very cool," Katniss replies. Faux sincerity drips off her words, but only Peeta detects it.

"Hey. When did you sneak in? They let you go a bit early?" he asks as he approaches the girls, but he continues to let his eyes linger on Katniss a little longer as he directs the question to her. He hands Marvel one of the beers.

"Ah, yeah. Clove was just telling me about studying abroad in England next fall."

Clove grins and clasps his hand, urging down him to take the seat on her right, leaving Katniss on Clove's left. "I keep telling Peeta what a great opportunity it is, and how we're only young once. I wish he'd reconsider it and do it too. It would look great on a résumé." She elbows him.

He sighs and catches Katniss's eye over Clove's head. Katniss purses her lips at him in that familiar half-smirk that heats his blood. It's been too long since he's had her mouth on him. He's been thinking more and more about sex with her lately, for a number of reasons, least of which is the fact that she told him on Christmas Eve that she was no longer seeing Dalton. Peeta hadn't been the slightest bit sorry to hear that. Though he and Clove had both agreed they wouldn't be an exclusive thing, as far as he knows she's been as faithful to him as he has been to her—at least physically, because pining for his best friend in his head and in his heart probably constitutes cheating in most people's books.

"But I'll aim lower and settle for getting him to come to Cancun for Spring Break," Clove continues, elbowing him again in the ribs sharply enough to force him to suck in a gush of air.

"Clove, not tonight," he grunts out. He doesn't want to have this argument for what feels like the 50th time.

An unfamiliar voice booms, "Katniss, we're up next for beer pong, okay?"

Peeta's head jolts up, and he cranes his neck to see the source. A guy with sandy brown hair and at least a few days' growth of scruff on his cheeks grins down at Katniss, Corona in hand. He looks vaguely familiar.

"Hey, Peeta, right?" he asks, thrusting his free hand towards Peeta's face. "Been awhile, man." Peeta gapes at him and shoots Katniss a bewildered look as he shakes hands with the guy.

"You remember Aiden…Cato's cousin? He just started working at the theater with me," she explains.

Peeta clenches his jaw and tries not to let his irritation show. He remembers. Cato's cousin is several years older than them, and he sometimes hung out with Rye and Finnick when they were all younger. But after middle school, Aiden had gone off to some snooty prep school in New Jersey where he could be better scouted for his soccer skills, and then he wound up at the University of Virginia on a full scholarship.

What he also remembers is Cato's incessant bragging about his cousin's womanizing. If Aiden is even half the player Cato's made him out to be, Peeta doesn't want Katniss anywhere near the prick.

He definitely doesn't want her near him right now, but Aiden has moved around to perch on the armrest of the couch. His left arm is positioned above Katniss's head, his fingers precariously close to her hair.

"So, you're back in Panem," Peeta ventures.

"Yeah," Aiden smirks. "I was on the five-year plan at Virginia. Partied a little too hard and soccer got in the way of classes a lot, ya know? I just finished up in December, and now I've got to apply to law school. But I might as well have some more fun for a couple of months before it's all fucking work and no play, right?"

Sure, Peeta thinks darkly. As long as that fun doesn't involve putting your hands all over Katniss. He cringes as he sees Aiden's palm come to rest on Katniss's left shoulder.

"Aiden!" Cato bellows from the other room. "You guys are up!"

"Hey, Clove," Katniss says. "Do you mind taking my spot and playing a round with Aiden?"

Clove shrugs. "Sure." She turns to face Peeta. "You mind?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all."

"What the fuck, babe?" Aiden exclaims, his fingers gripping Katniss's shoulder. Peeta tenses when he watches her shrug off Aiden's grasp. "Why don't you want to play? You're fucking awesome at beer pong and I don't want some random fuckin—"

"Clove is a great shot," Peeta insists, narrowing his eyes at Aiden. Who the fuck does he think he is, calling Katniss 'babe,' and manhandling her like caveman?

"I'll play with you later," Katniss offers. "I just have a headache and my feet hurt. I want to sit for a little longer."

"Aiden!" Cato barks.

"Alright!" he yells back. "C'mon, whatever-your-name-is. Peeta better not be selling you short."

Clove arches an eyebrow at Peeta, pecks him on the cheek, and stands. "You take the front of the triangle, and let me have the back, and we'll be fine. Don't fuck up my system, unless you like losing." She strides out of the room, leaving Aiden gaping at her back.

"She's a firecracker." Aiden grins, shooting Peeta a look. "Bet she's great in bed," he adds.

"She knows what she wants," Peeta replies, cutting his eyes to the left. He definitely doesn't want to elaborate on his sex life with Clove in front of Katniss, even if he and Clove aren't intimate that often. They definitely lack chemistry, and it can't be a good sign if the sex is already boring. Clove insists she has control issues and has to be on top. It's not so much that he minds the position—he's always loved it when Katniss has ridden him. It's more that Clove is so set in her ways and doesn't really take his feelings into account. It's almost a relief that they're both always so busy that they don't have much alone time together.

Katniss picks at something on her jeans, her countenance blank.

"Be back, but hopefully not too soon, ok, babe?" Aiden leans over and moves to kiss Katniss, but she shifts and his lips land on her forehead.

"Good luck," she says, smiling up at Aiden as he stands to follow Clove.

A ripple of envy rolls through Peeta. He's not at all okay with how close Katniss seems to be with Aiden. Peeta tips back his beer and takes a long swallow. He drags his palm across his mouth and tilts the bottle back and forth, watching the lime wedge bob around near the bottom.

"So when did that start?" He jerks a thumb in the direction Aiden went.

Katniss tucks her legs up beneath her, scooting nearer to him in the process. She snatches the bottle from him, running her finger around the lip in slow revolutions. "It's nothing. We're just hanging out."

He chews on the inside of his lip, biting back about a hundred different warnings that he feels compelled to scream out. But he knows doing so will only make him look like a jealous dick (even if he is). He supposes he's not really being fair to Aiden. Maybe the guy has changed since high school—though Peeta doubts it, not with the asshole vibe Aiden was giving off in the couple of minutes Peeta was in his presence.

"I see Clove is still harping on Cancun," Katniss says.

Peeta snorts. "She's persistent."

"You should just go. You work yourself too hard, and you deserve a vacation."

He twists to face her, fixing her with a serious look. "I went away last year. And if anyone deserves a vacation, Katniss, it's you."

"Maybe someday," she says ruefully. "I don't have the time, or the money right now. Everything that's not marked for classes needs to go to finding a new apartment so I can get the fuck out of my mom's place." She takes a long sip from his beer and hands the nearly empty bottle back to him. He takes a swig and licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of her cherry Chapstick that lingers on the bottle.

Clove and Aiden must do okay for themselves, because they don't return. He and Katniss pass the time alone in the room, enjoying each other's company. They chat; they joke; they quote favorite movie lines. She's just inches from him, hardly any space between their bodies, and at one point, she nearly rests her head on his shoulder, but then she stifles a yawn and lurches upright.

"You gonna make it til midnight?" he quips, rubbing her knee affectionately. She glances down at his hand, and when she looks back up and meets his eyes, something crackles between them. She scratches at her arm and slides over on the cushion. He doesn't have time to be disappointed, because Clove reappears not but a second later to grab Peeta for the ball drop.

"Where's Aiden?" Peeta asks as Clove hauls him to his feet. She shrugs dismissively and says something about seeing him doing shots with Cato and Brutus.

He looks to Katniss. "You coming?"

She heaves a sigh and she slowly rises from the couch, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm going to go home, actually."

"But you'll miss—" Clove begins, but Katniss shakes her head.

"I'm just not feeling well. I overdid it at the theater today."

"Working doubles will do that," Peeta scolds her, another twinge of sympathy striking him for her predicament.

"Happy New Year's." She manages a smile. "Tell everyone I'm sorry, okay?"

When the countdown on the television commences, all his friends echo the numbers, erupting into cheers when the New Year flashes on the screen. Clove wraps her arms around his neck and draws him to her for a kiss, but all he can think about is the tired look in Katniss's eyes when she waved goodbye at him.

He says a silent prayer that this year, things will be better for Katniss.

---

~March~

---

"Peeta? Are you even listening to me?"

His head snaps up from where he's been staring into the flickering votive at the center of the table. Clove arches her brows at him and he offers a meek smile in apology.

"Sorry, I'm a little distracted tonight," he offers.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Just a lot of stuff on my mind," he replies, stabbing at his vegetables again.

Clove puckers her lips. He can practically see the internal battle she's waging in her head to press him, or to let it go. But she suddenly brightens and sets down her fork. "Oh, is it about your birthday? We need to figure out what you want to do. I know your friends…"

Honestly if Katniss hadn't mentioned it in a text just yesterday, he would have forgotten that it's his birthday next week. He's been preoccupied, as registration for next term looms and he can't choose his classes until he decides if he's changing his major or not. Ever since Katniss planted the idea of being a teacher in his head, it's been lying dormant, like a seedling, only needing those nurturing rays of sunlight to push through the soil. It's an equally terrifying and thrilling prospect.

He's also been agonizing over who to tell first: Katniss or Clove. His gut instinct is to tell Katniss; after all, she is the one who suggested it in the first place, and they've always told each other everything. But part of him worries that Clove will invoke some kind of unofficial girlfriend code of ethics if he goes to Katniss for advice before her. He doesn't want to provoke her.

"Peeta. You're doing it again." Annoyance flashes in Clove's brown eyes. "Why the hell can't you just look at me when I talk to you? I swear half the time you aren't even listening to me!"

"No, I was listening," he lies. "Look, Clove, it's really sweet of you to want to plan something, but I don't need my birthday to be a big deal. Twenty is nothing special anyway. Twenty-one is when you really go all out." He reaches over and pats her hand. "We can just go out and have a nice dinner, like this."

Clove shrugs and spears another piece of salmon. "Whatever you want." She pops her fish into her mouth. "But remember I have lab late on Tuesday nights."

He clears his throat and exhales a slow breath. Spontaneously, he makes the decision to break the news to Clove first when he finds the perfect segue into the conversation. "So, ah, do you miss the community center at all?"

She makes a face. The freckles dotting the bridge of her nose nearly contract into a line as she wrinkles it. "No. Not at all. I mean, it was okay while we were doing it, but…that's really random, Peeta. Where did that come from?"

"I do miss it. I enjoyed it. I've been going by there the last couple of weeks, just checking in on some of the kids," he says, breaking off a piece of roll. "And I'm starting to think I'd really enjoy teaching."

"Hey, so pleeeeeeease tell me you've reconsidered Mexico! It's not too late for you to get a flight and join me and everyone else…" Her brown eyes plead with him as she leans forward on the table slightly. "C'mon. Sun, sand, lots and lots of alcohol and very little clothing…"

He grimaces. It's as if she didn't hear a word he said. She just changed the subject without missing a beat. Coughing, he takes a sip from his water and braces himself for her reaction. "Ah, no, I'm definitely going to pass on Cancun. I'm going to spend break at home this year. I need to get some things in order..."

Her disappointment is blatant on her face; her forehead ruffles with worry lines, and her mouth puckers with confusion. "What kind of things?"

"Well, for starters I need to sit down with my parents and explain that I won't be playing football anymore and that scholarship money will no longer be coming in. It's kind of a conversation that they deserve to hear in person." He picks at another piece of bread. "God only knows how my mom is gonna react."

Clove's face shifts, displeasure morphing into overt irritation. "So you're really giving it up?"

He nods and reaches for his beer. "I am." He takes another breath, and continues, "And if I'm going to be changing my major—"

"Wait. Back up. Who said anything about changing your major?"

He struggles to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Now who isn't listening? He decides not to call her on her hypocritical behavior, and says, "Uh, I did…a couple of minutes ago. I told you I was thinking about teaching. I really don't know that I'm cut out for business, and I really like working with kids and…" He stops and stares. Her usually pretty features have twisted into a mask of disgust, an unappealing sight. "What?" he asks tentatively. "What? Why are you glaring at me like that?"

She makes another face as she runs her finger up and down the tines of her fork, avoiding his eyes. "I think you're making a big mistake, but it's your life so…"

"With the football?" he asks. "Or—?"

"I just don't know where your head is lately, Peeta!" she exclaims, exasperation lacing her words." I don't know why you want to throw away your football career for no reason at all."

"I don't want to be a football player, Clove. I never wanted to go play in the NFL. This isn't some kind of capricious decision I made overnight."

"Fine. Whatever. You don't want to play football anymore. But where the fuck is the whole teaching thing coming from? Why would you want to give up a lucrative career in business or finance to go slum around a high school and deal with ungrateful teenagers all day? You're too smart and talented to be a teacher."

He stiffens. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She tosses her brown hair over her shoulder and looks away, looking out the restaurant's oversized window, into the inky night. An uneasy silence blankets the air between them, and his own mounting irritation accelerates his pulse. Clove doesn't blink for several moments, and eventually she huffs. "Forget it. Just…forget it, Peeta. I don't really want to argue with you tonight…"

"I don't want to forget it," he snaps. He pins her with his gaze, glaring back at her. "Do you really think that? That teaching is a profession for morons who can't do anything else? Not everyone is meant to cure cancer, or be president. Someone has to get those doctors into the labs, and make the politicians literate enough to give their speeches."

"Holy shit, Peeta, I didn't know you'd take it so fucking seriously. That's not what I meant. Chill out!" She throws her napkin onto her plate and shoves away from the table violently. "I'll be right back." Her hair whips around as she stalks off to the restroom.

Peeta drops his head into his hands and probes his forehead with the pads of his fingertips. He shouldn't really be surprised that she's reacting the way that she is. He had known Clove was an ambitious girl before they started dating, but in the past six months he's realized that her drive goes beyond ambition. She's competitive, but her intensity sometimes borders on unhealthy. For example, right before grades were posted at the end of the fall semester, he watched her obsessively check her phone every minute for two hours. And then when her microbiology grade finally appeared, he had spent nearly the same amount of time calming her down at the sight of the A-minus.

Furthermore, the more time they've spent together, the more he thinks she's dating him because of him, that she likes the idea of them as a couple more than she likes Peeta himself. Her behavior just now only seems to solidify his belief that Clove sees him as some kind of status symbol, that their relationship is less about chemistry and more about appearances.

He can't really be all that upset with her if it's true. They're using each other, in a sense. Deep down, he knows he wouldn't even be with Clove if Katniss wanted to be more than friends with benefits.

It's nearly ten minutes before Clove comes back from the restroom. She slides into her seat, refolds her napkin across her lap, and calmly asks him if he wants to share dessert. Not another word is said about their fight, or his decisions, and a half-hour later, he drops her off at her sorority house with little more than a quick peck on her lips. She never turns around while stalking towards the steps.

He texts Katniss when he's back in his room, getting ready for bed.

Peeta: cant wait to see you when Im home on break. Lots to tell you.

Her reply comes before he can shut off the lights.

Katniss: me too. Sweet dreams.

He rereads her message twice. Me too. Does she mean she can't wait to see him too, or does she have lots to tell him as well? Maybe it's both? Either way he's suddenly feeling more at ease, and he knows that has everything to do with spending time with her, just the two of them. He settles against his pillow with a smile on his lips and her beautiful face swimming before his vision.

He at least has the decency not to jerk off thinking about her before falling asleep.

---

Three weeks later, within an hour of arriving home for Spring Break, he's at the movie theater, waiting for Katniss's shift to end. He pulls up to the curb just in front of the box office. He can see Aiden inside the vestibule, eyes glued to his cell phone, only occasionally looking up when patrons approach him.

Katniss appears a couple of minutes later, zipping up her jacket as she steps through the theater doors. She scans the parking lot before doing a double take when she sees him idling so close. She jogs towards his car and slides into the passenger seat.

"Ugh, why is it still so cold? Spring my ass," she grumbles, fastening her seat belt.

"Hi to you too." He laughs, throwing the car into drive. "And I heard it's supposed to be in the mid-60s by week's end, so just be patient, grasshopper."

She rolls her eyes but flashes him an easy grin. "God, I'm glad you're home." He doesn't even get to bask in the warmth that her words stir in his belly before she's whining about how she's starving, and where can they go to eat—now.

He winks at her. Though it's a little out of the way, he wants to keep that smile on her face. When he pulls into the Bobby Flay parking lot and she moans her approval, he realizes he's been jonesing for greasy burgers too. Clove is a vegetarian, and she made it clear early on that she wouldn't eat at some of the places that he and Katniss have always enjoyed going to.

"So you inspired me," he says, once they're digging into their food. Katniss pauses with a fry halfway to her mouth.

"Me?" She crinkles her nose at him. She's so fucking cute. Every time he sees her when they've been apart he finds himself noticing something else that he loves about her. The way she wrinkles her nose is definitely getting added to the list.

"Yeah, you," he teases.

"I don't inspire anyone," she scoffs.

"Oh yeah? Something that you said months ago hasn't left my mind since you said it…I'm seriously thinking about changing my major."

Katniss returns the French fry to the pool of ranch dressing on her plate, dredging it thoroughly before finally popping it into her mouth. "To what?" she asks as she chews and swallows.

"Teaching. High school. English, most likely."

She reaches over and snatches an onion ring off his plate, giving him a brazen smile as she steals it. He watches her swipe the onion ring through the ranch dressing as she looks back at him contemplatively. He feels his mouth curve up under her gaze, and she wrinkles her nose at him again.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Her tongue darts out to swathe at the corner of her mouth, then she rubs at the spot. He tries not to let his eyes linger on that pretty pink tongue running back and forth along her lips. He grabs for the ketchup to give his hands something to busy themselves with.

"So what do you think? Am I crazy?"

"You're not crazy," she says quickly. "And I think you should do what makes you happy." She picks up her Coke and takes a sip. "I told you that last summer when you were first thinking about giving up your football scholarship. If changing your major makes you happy, then don't let anyone talk you out of it."

His chest tightens. How does she always know exactly what to say? How does she understand him better than anyone? Her reaction couldn't be more different than Clove's.

"Have you told your parents yet?" she asks. He makes a face, and she snickers. "Your mother is gonna flip out." She pauses thoughtfully and chews another fry. "You know, when you break it to them…you should do it when Clove is there with you. Your mom won't dare say half the nasty stuff she'd say to you in front of Clove. Oh! And like, go to dinner somewhere. She'll wait and chew you out later, cause she won't want to cause a scene in public. Maybe by then, your dad can talk some sense into her. He always supports you."

"That would be good idea," he begins humorlessly, "if Clove hadn't already told me that she thinks I'm making a mistake. She and my mom would probably tag team me." The thought makes him want to retch. But Katniss is right. His mother is as much about keeping up appearances as Clove is.

Katniss's eyes turn steely. She drops the fry in her hand onto her plate. "She said that? That you're making a mistake?" she spits, incensed, disgust lacing her words.

"And she didn't sugar coat it. She said I was too smart and talented to be a teacher. We had a huge fight about it."

Katniss mutters something and pulls her napkin off her lap. Then she stands and comes around to his side of the booth, bumping him with her hip. He slides over, and she sits down next to him, twisting her body so she's facing him as best she can.

"You are smart. And talented. And kind and compassionate, and you are exactly what kids need in a teacher. Fuck your mom. Fuck Clove. This is your life, Peeta. If you want to be a fucking tollbooth collector on the New Jersey Turnpike or a goat farmer in Siberia you should do it. If it makes you happy, then that's all that matters. You have to stop worrying about pleasing other people all the time."

He stares at her, looking deep into those grey irises that are ablaze with fire. The left corner of her mouth lifts in a seemingly shy smile, as if she's taken aback by her own passionate outburst. What he wouldn't give to cradle her jaw with his hands and pull her to him right now, to kiss her so fiercely that she would feel very last bit of how much her words mean to him, how much her support drives him. He wants to tell her that she makes him happy, and he wants her, wants more than what they have together right now.

Why didn't he break up with Clove before she left for Mexico? Right. Because he's a fucking coward. And because Katniss is with that douchebag Aiden. At least, he assumes she's still seeing him. She had been with him just last week when Peeta had texted her about hanging out over break. He shudders involuntarily thinking about Katniss with Aiden. Has she slept with him yet? His stomach knots uncomfortably. A lot can happen in three months.

"Peeta," Katniss says, bringing his attention back to her, her voice softer, more imploring. "It's your future. It's okay to be selfish from time to time."

He wants to be selfish, he really does. When it comes to Katniss, he always wants to be selfish, and therein lies the problem. All his visions of his future involve Katniss: marriage, children, growing old together—all things that she has made it patently clear to him that she does not want. He thought that maybe as they got older, she'd start changing her tune. But with college halfway over and the real world looming, the song remains the same.

"You've given me a lot to ponder," he says, taking her hand. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. "Enough about me. Let's talk about you for a bit."

She pulls her hand free and reaches across the table to her plate to grab a couple more fries. "Yeah, cause I'm such a thrilling topic of conversation."

"Well, you're my favorite topic of conversation, so you're not getting out of said conversation. Did you hear about your financial aid yet?"

Once Katniss has her associate's degree from Bucks County, she plans to transfer to a four-year school for her music degree. Peeta knows the University of the Arts is her first choice. Unfortunately, it's not cheap, and without any kind of aid, she will likely need copious student loans to afford it, if she can afford it at all.

"Ah, no," she mumbles, quickly shoving a fry into her mouth. "I'm supposed to meet with someone next week…oh, hey, Finnick's graduation party! You want to get him something together?"

"That sounds good," he agrees. Finnick graduates from Maryland in a month. While his father has promised a brand new Jaguar convertible, and his mother is hosting some ritzy party at her country club that's for family only, Finnick is throwing himself a massive bash at his mother's house when she and his stepdad go to Cozumel the first weekend in May.

He and Katniss continue chat easily as they eat, and after some idle conversation, he decides to pry a little.

"How's, uh, Aiden?" he asks.

She remains silent, her left shoulder lifting slightly. "Okay, I guess." She wraps a strand of her hair around one finger and starts to twirl it absently. "He's, ah, applying to a bunch of law schools in California…so…ah, he's kind of out in Venice Beach." She laughs abruptly. "I cannot see him being a lawyer, but I don't think he's being given much of a choice. I actually think he only went to California to surf and fuck around and get away from his father."

"Wait, he's gone? Like…gone?"

"Yeah."

"And you guys…?"

"It's hard enough to make a long distance relationship work when you really like someone, Peeta." She pushes away her empty basket and a sound of contentment escapes her mouth. "God that was so fucking good. We should totally go to Cold Stone now."

He remembers Bristel saying something similar before she broke up with him. He considers that with Clove's internship and the fact that he'll need to take several summer classes to stay on course if he does change his major, he and Clove will likely see very little of each other come summer.

As Katniss starts chattering away about ice cream, he can't prevent a pleased smile from creeping across his lips.

---

~May~

---

"I wish you would have let me bring a little cake or something for you. You graduated too," he whispers in Katniss's ear. "Plus your birthday is in a few days."

She rolls her eyes and nods in the direction of the massive ice cream and gelato bar set up by the Odairs' pool house. "I hardly think anyone would care with all sweets here, no matter how good your dad's German chocolate cake is." She fiddles with her bikini top, adjusting the triangles of fabric over her breasts. He tries in vain not to let his eyes wander to her chest, but it's been impossible not to sneak glances at her all afternoon long. She looks so fucking good in her turquoise bikini.

She shrugs. "Besides I only got an associate's degree…two years."

"Still an accomplishment," he praises her, but she doesn't look convinced.

Katniss hadn't told him until after it had passed that he had missed her graduation ceremony. At first, he had merely been stung that she hadn't asked him to attend, but when she admitted she hadn't gone herself, and had chosen instead to just accept her diploma by mail, he had become annoyed. She was brushing it off, like it wasn't anything to be proud of. He had pointed out that she had put herself through the program. She had been impassive, but he heard the frail hope in her voice that she'd have a 'real graduation someday'. She hasn't said any more about her transfer situation, and he doesn't want to nag her.

A shrill scream pierces the air, and he and Katniss both turn just in time to see Annie land in the deep end of the pool with a tremendous splash. When she surfaces, her eyes flash with irritation, but all seems to be forgiven once Finnick dives in and hauls her into his arms. Peeta watches his friend's hands comb through Annie's wet hair as they kiss, oblivious to all around them.

He glances at Katniss, who is also watching Finnick and Annie, her expression unreadable. She arches an eyebrow at Peeta when she meets his eyes. She reaches up, and her hands tug at the knot at the nape of her neck, seemingly testing its security, then slide down her back, checking the strings there too. He gives her a quizzical look and she grasps his hand, yanking him towards the pool.

"C'mon. Let's challenge them to a chicken fight. Then we spare everyone the sight of them practically fucking in there." She leaps into the water, landing a few feet from where Finnick and Annie are sucking face. It doesn't faze them in the slightest; they keep kissing. Katniss makes a face at them then turns and skims her fingers over the water, splashing Peeta. He shakes his head at her playfully, but motions for her to move away from Finn and Annie. With a running start, he launches himself in the air, wraps his arms around his knees, and lands a perfect cannonball right beside them. He surfaces, blinks the water from his eyes, and rakes his wet hair back.

That got the lovebirds' attention. Finnick gives him a "fuck you" face, but Peeta simply shrugs in mock innocence and swims over to where Katniss is treading water.

"Up for a challenge, Odair?" he asks. He doesn't wait for a response before ducking under the water and nudging Katniss's knees apart. He hooks his arms around her thighs and feels her hands grip his shoulders as he rises to the surface. He steadies her above him and tries to ignore the fact her thighs are straddling his neck and her breasts are right above his head. When she shifts slightly, his palm glides along the smooth, slick skin of her right leg. He yearns to touch more, and he might have tried, if they weren't surrounded by people.

He finally broke up with Clove a few days ago, right before they left campus for summer break. Once again, it had been Katniss's inadvertent advice that had been the spark for him to take action. He kept replaying her comment about long distance relationships. Beyond the fact that he and Clove would be apart for most of the summer, she would also be in Europe for nearly the entire fall semester. And the more he thought about it, he just wasn't into her enough to salvage what tenuous romantic threads they were clinging to.

Unlike when Bristel had severed their relationship with blunt words and little emotion, Peeta had been shocked by Clove's reaction to their break up. For a girl who he was so used to seeing put-together and polished, her brown eyes had immediately filled with tears and she had become hysterical. He hated seeing her cry and stuttering through all the things that she apparently loved about him, but the longer they talked, the more she seemed to accept that the long distance thing would be difficult, and seeing other people would be for the best.

He know that with the right woman—Katniss—he could easily make the necessary sacrifices to cope with a long distance relationship. Just having a real relationship with her would be a good start. He plans to use this summer to see as much of her as possible before they're forced apart again when he goes back to Penn State and she goes off to wherever it is she chooses to transfer to. His stomach knots a little at the idea of her being somewhere far away.

But presently she's close to him, swaying above him as they wait for Finnick to hoist Annie into position to do battle.

"You're going down, Cresta," Katniss taunts.

Finnick smirks. "Not til later she's not."

"Oh my God, Finn! Shut up!" Annie squeals, and swats him on the head, her cheeks reddening.

Katniss threads her fingers through Peeta's hair, tugging gently on the strands to urge him to tilt his head back. He looks up at her. She purses her lips at him before her mouth lifts into a determined smile. He grins back, and then makes his move towards Finnick.

Sweet little Annie is anything but when it comes to chicken fights. Years of swimming have given her a lot of upper body strength for someone so petite. But Katniss has always been a fighter. The girls wage fierce combat as they tussle. Katniss digs her heels into his pelvis and squeezes her thighs tighter around his neck. He can't help himself from thinking of all the times she's done the same thing when he's been between her legs, eating her out. And that erotic visual is all it takes for his cock to jerk forward in his swimsuit, distracting him enough to temporarily lose his grip on Katniss. She pitches forward, but before he can right his grip on her, she teeters backwards and tumbles into the water. Finnick hoots triumphantly and pulls Annie's head towards him for a victory kiss. Peeta sighs in defeat.

"Sorry," he mumbles once Katniss is above the water again.

She doesn't look upset. She blinks a few times, and licks her lips. "We'll get them next round. Don't worry about it." She bobs towards him and he swears there's a glint of something suggestive in her eyes. Then he feels her knee graze his semi-hard cock, and she tucks the corner of her lip between her teeth, smiling coyly as she swims past him. "Rematch!" he hears her call. He takes a deep breath; his dick now stands at full attention, and it's only the baggy trunks that don't make it blatantly obvious.

"Let's try and focus this time, Mellark, shall we?" she jokes. He narrows his eyes at her teasingly. He sucks in another breath, sinks down, but now when he dips between her legs, he reaches out one hand and purposefully drags his fingers over the crotch of her bikini bottoms. He sees her body jolt, and he smirks to himself. He brings them both to the surface, holding her securely in place. She presses her palms over his pecs. He feels her torso twist behind him, and suddenly her lips are beside his ear, her breasts tantalizingly close to the side of his face.

"I'm getting you back for that later," she whispers, her voice full of heat.

So much for his hard-on deflating.

He and Katniss are victorious in the next round. What he wouldn't give to be able to seal their win with a kiss, much like Finnick and Annie did, but he has to settle for a high-five. When they win the rubber match and triumph two games to one, he does pull her down into his arms, and she gives him a quick hug before entangling herself from his grasp and paddling towards the pool's ledge.

The party rages on late into the evening. Finnick and Annie disappear somewhere around midnight, and Peeta sees Cato slip into the pool house with a blonde who is definitely not Glimmer (off-again, Peeta supposes). Most of the guests who are sober or who have designated drivers head out just before one a.m. Some of Peeta's friends are still around, too drunk to drive, but he has been unable to focus on anyone but Katniss.

Currently, she's nestled between his legs on the chaise lounge, her back flush against his chest, with her head resting on his shoulder. Her hair is still a little damp from the pool, and they're both still in their suits, though Katniss has tugged on a strapless sundress over hers. No one is swimming anymore, but soft splashes come from the large hot tub on the far side of the patio. Only a slice of moon is visible tonight, and thick clouds obscure most of the stars. The meager light from the flickering flames of the tiki torches keep most of the patio bathed in shadows.

He splays his hand over her rib cage, and she squirms a little against him. "You're quiet," he whispers, fighting the urge to suck on her neck.

"You want to get out of here?" she murmurs. She arches her back and grinds her hips down. A bolt of current sizzles to his groin. She angles her head so her mouth ghosts over the cliff of his jaw.

He lets his thumb brush under her breast. "I can't drive." He only allowed himself to drink enough to get a pleasant buzz migrating through his veins, but he'll never take the chance and get behind the wheel. Katniss, he knows, stopped drinking hours ago, after their last game of Flip Cup. She had sipped water during Beer Pong.

"I'll drive. Let's go to the reservoir." Her voice is thick with intention. She climbs off his lap and holds a hand out to help him out of the chair. She weaves their fingers together and his body hums with expectation.

He locates his shirt and keys. He hands them to her as he tugs his shirt over his head. "Take my car. We'll come back for yours later."

The whole ride to the reservoir he keeps one hand on Katniss's knee, trailing his fingers up and down her thigh, easing up the hem on her sundress. It's as much out of a need to keep himself occupied and not nod off as it is his compulsion to touch her, now that he can.

He's relieved when she turns into the parking lot and up the winding path and no other cars are present. The reservoir is deserted, quiet.

Katniss cuts the engine. Darkness envelops them as the headlines fade. Peeta reaches above his head and flicks on the overhead light. She watches him intently, soft huffs leaving her parted lips. Her lush mouth is so tempting he nearly forgets to unfasten his seat belt before he leans over the console to cup her neck in his hand. He hesitates, breathing in her scent, gazing into her molten eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" she asks. She traps her top lip between her teeth as she stares back at him. The air pulses with electricity, matching the heat lightning throbbing in the distance.

"I've missed this," he murmurs, rubbing his fingers along the nape of her neck. She releases her lip, along with a shaky breath, and crushes her mouth to his. Oh fuck has he missed this. Their lips move fluidly against each other, slowly at first, tasting, savoring, rediscovering, but the longer they kiss, the rougher it becomes. Pent up desire and restrained lust simmers between them, threatening to boil over.

He's hard as a rock by the time Katniss's tongue paints his lips. He opens his mouth to deepen their kiss, coiling his tongue around hers. She retreats and draws his tongue into her mouth. He explores the warm, familiar crevices, intermittently pausing to tease her tongue. When she breaks the embrace to catch her breath, he nips at her lower lip, wincing as his knee hits the gearshift.

"Back seat," she mumbles. They exit the car hastily, and over the roof, Katniss pins him with glassy eyes. He can see her shoulders lift slightly and she stumbles a little. When he climbs into the back seat and she opens her door, he realizes she's stripped off her sundress, which she tosses onto the front seat. He yanks his shirt off carefully in the confined space and throws it towards the front seat too. Eagerly closing the distance between them, he grips her shoulders and lures her towards him. He cradles her neck and claims her mouth. His tongue traces slow circles around her lips, sucking on the lower swell gently. She moans and wraps her arms around him. The pads of her fingertips press into his shoulders, and she occasionally rakes her nails up and down his back as they kiss.

He eases her down on the seat, covering her body with his. When he bucks his hips into her, she keens softly. The sexy sound resonates in his cock, and he juts into her once more. He can feel her nipples pebbled against her bikini top. He braces himself on one hand and closes the other over her left breast. Katniss bows into his touch.

"Off," she pants. Together they struggle to untie her top, but neither knot budges. With a frustrated growl, he just yanks the triangles to the side, baring her breasts to him. They rise as she inhales deeply, her hooded eyes locked on his. He smiles and skims his thumb over her breastbone.

"So gorgeous," he whispers, angling his head to suck one nipple into his mouth.

"Peeta," she whimpers. He grins against her breast. He loves to hear Katniss say his name with that needy, desperate edge. It's been a long time since he heard her voice like this.

As he plants kisses across her chest, en route to her other breast, he feels her hands slide down his back and slip past the elastic of his swim shorts. She tries to work them down herself but makes little progress. He flicks his tongue over each puckered nipple before sitting back to shed his swimsuit. Her gaze flits down to his erection, and her mouth curves into a seductive smile. Her taut stomach tenses as she sits up enough to work at the knots of her bikini again. He lets her mess with the top, while he encourages her to raise her hips so he can slide the bottoms down her legs.

"I need to be inside you," he pleads as his vision roams up and down her naked body. "I need to feel you around me."

She nods mutely and extends her left leg out as best she can in the cramped space. He drapes it over his elbow and braces his arm against the edge of the seat, using his other hand to rub his cock through her slick heat. She whines impatiently, writhing enough that just the tip of him penetrates her.

"Oh fuck," he groans. Reflexively his eyes fall closed as he pushes fully inside her, overwhelmed by the sensation of her velvety heat accepting him inch by inch. He opens his eyes almost immediately so he can watch her jaw drop and her chin tilt up. Her eyes screw shut, pleasure evident on her face as he hits that spot deep inside her before he pulls nearly all the way out. He presses his palm on the glass above her head and descends on her lips, keeping his thrusts steady. She feels fucking amazing—tight and hot, and so wet. He glides in and out of her with just the slightest resistance.

He hisses softly when her nails claw into his shoulder blades and he hitches her leg higher on his waist. She cries his name and swivels her hips, angling her pelvis up. He can read her body language perfectly, and he knows she's begging for more stimulation of her clit.

"Hold on," he whispers, readjusting himself to grip the back of the seat and free up his hand. Katniss locks her leg around him, her heel resting just above his ass. He reaches down and rubs her clit. She whimpers a sound of gratitude and clutches him tighter.

He's actually grateful that he drank tonight but didn't get obliterated, because he knows without the aftereffects of the alcohol, he probably would have come within a minute or two of being inside her. But he can tell she's close to coming. Her breathing grows labored, and as a result her cries are sharp but sporadic. Unintelligible words slip out between moans until her body tenses beneath him and he feels her walls seize at his cock. The warmth spreading in his balls tells him his own climax is imminent. As badly as he wants his release, he never wants to stop fucking her.

Katniss pulls his head towards her, sealing her mouth over his, initiating a slow, sensual kiss that unfurls a ribbon of heat through his veins. Her tongue licks at the seam of his lips, but before he can open his mouth, she leaves a wet trail of pecks along his jaw and tugs on his earlobe with her teeth.

"Your cock feels incredible…you're incredible…" Her voice is rough from crying out so much. But it's such a sexy sound, and it's empowering to know he's the reason it sounds like that. She takes his lobe between her teeth again, and the heat of her breath on his neck causes him to shiver. He's almost there.

"Katniss…fuck…I love…being with you…you, you're…"

She clenches her pussy, tightening her walls around him deliberately, and he groans deeply. His cock goes rigid and he comes hard. Katniss presses a kiss directly over his ear and draws back, eyes wide. He stops convulsing a minute later and pulls her to him, careful not to put his full weight on her. She sits up partially, and they lie together in silence. He can feel the wild pulse of her heart.

"It's always so good when we're together," she whispers.

"Fuck yeah it is," he replies, kissing her temple, swirling his index finger along her feverish skin. "We have all summer to be together now."

She's quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I guess we do."

It's only later, after he feels safe enough to drive and he's dropped Katniss back at Finnick's to get her car and he's finally at home, that he realizes she didn't sound all that convinced.

---

A/N-I can promise you that the next chapter is nearly 2/3rds done, and it definitely will not be as long a wait as this one was, and the title of the chapter is "You Can Crash My Party"...so take that as you will for a spoiler. :)

I am contributing the first chapter of one of my next WIPs to the F4LLS charity. For the Crown (thank you, HGRomance, for the clever title, and Ro Nordmann for the gorgeous banner) is my hybrid of Kiera Cass's Selection trilogy and Everlark. I'm having fun writing Prince!Peeta. There are many great fandoms and authors represented, and for $10 you receive a collection of wonderful stories, previews, and fanart. It's a worthy cause, one that is close to my heart, having had students with leukemia in recent years.

Thank you for reading! I look forward to hearing your thoughts.