OK, Katniss. Everything you need is right here. I take a breath and start. It's Pete's birthday today, I skipped my last class, I enjoyed the giddy feeling of not being where I'm supposed to be for a few minutes before starting on the task at hand. The cake. The directions are simple, phew.

After spending forever mixing everything, my arm is killing me and I regret the fact that I don't have a mixer. I didn't see the point in buying one just to have it clutter up the kitchen; I do not plan on baking in the near future. If Pete asks for a homemade cake again next year, maybe I'll consider buying one… maybe. Besides, if I do get a mixer, then Pete might take that as reason to ask for more baked goods (oh the horror).

I dump the goop in the pan and put it in the oven. I collapse on the sofa. I was slaving away in the kitchen for (I check the time on my phone) 25 minutes. Stupid recipe said the prep time was only 15, liars. My mind is running through a stream of curse words and my frustration with the cake turns in to a general anxiety over everything, damn it. I lift the purple rubber band that's wrapped around my wrist up an inch then let go and it snaps against my skin. I grab a glass of water and finish it in a few gulps, then let out a long and slow breath.

I started keeping a thick rubber band on my wrist (I think it originally came from a broccoli floret), whenever the craving would get really band I'd snap the band on my wrist. It actually helped. The idea had come from a diet trick I heard a girl in my class talking about, whenever she wanted to eat something that wasn't allowed on her diet, she'd snap her wrist. Pete wasn't a big fan of the idea, especially since (on bad days) I can have some angry welts on my wrist. But it's not like it was some form of self mutilation or something, it just helped me bring my focus off of the "need". It helped… to some degree.

I start to smell the cake and I take it as a good sign that it smells good. To my relief, when I open the oven door, it looks like it's supposed to.

I do as the recipes tells me and flip it upside down to cool. The next step of getting the freakin' thing out of the freakin' pan, doesn't go too well. The cake seems practically glued to the damn pan. I forgot to freakin' grease the damn pan. I use a knife to cut around the edges, but I can't get to the bottom. The thought of some how cutting the pan's edges off, crosses my mind, maybe wire cutters or something. Instead I let out an aggravated groan and stomp my foot, I pick up the stupid pan and almost throw it across the room or out the window, but instead I just slam it back down on the counter. I am not putting my freaking arm through all that mixing again. I grab my keys and purse and slam the door behind me.

I practically storm in to Target and grab a cart. I'm sure I scared the wits out of some small children as I stomp around the store. I buy what I need and I'm sure I'm still scowling. The cashier eyes me nervously, hasn't she ever seen someone buying a mixer and a cake pan in a angry rage before?! I snap my rubber band twice, which causes the stupid cashier to eye me even more nervously. I put an illegible scroll of a signature on the electronic box. I feel like a cake (a cake!) has beat me in a battle of wits.

I run into Jo and Finn, who by the looks of it are leaving Gale's, in the hallway. The mixing box's weight is slowly separating my arms from my shoulders.

"What the hell?" Jo asks, and Finn takes the box from me. I roll my shoulders in a few circles.

"You're too pretty to be carry heavy things, little lady," Finn says with his overly flirtatious charm and an exaggerated wink, "Allow me." I roll my eyes and we start to walk up the stairs.

"What do you need a mixer for?" Jo asks, following behind Finn.

I grumble incoherently for a while before the words, "Birthday cake," come out of my mouth.

My scowl deepens as Jo laughs her way up to my apartment.

"You already have a cake," Jo points, unnecessarily, to the cake sitting on the counter.

Just drop the freaking mixer off and leave! I start to empty the box.

Finn takes a look in the pan with the mangled version of a cake, "Forgot to grease the pan?" I clench my teeth together, shut up, shut up, shut up.

I can tell that Jo is enjoying herself, she's propped up on the counter, clearly planning on staying to watch the "show". Finn helps me get everything set up

"I have on a date with Annie on Saturday," He tells me. Jo lets out a groan, "Don't get started on her again! Honestly, I already have to put up with the Petniss lovebirds."

I stop being frustrated to be amused for a moment, "Petniss?" Then I process what Finn had said, "Annie? Annie from Nordstrom?"

"Annie Cresta," Finn says almost dreamily (which causes Jo to groan again), "She gave me her number at the bar-" He stops and awkwardness hangs in the air. Yeah the night that some drunk idiot tried to hatch a master kidnapping plot, that night?

"Yeah yeah yeah, love at first sight," Jo says with an eye roll, "Honestly, you two make it look easy. What's a girl gotta due to get a guy?"

I scoff, "I don't think you have a problem getting guys."

"Yeah, I've had no shortage of dickheads."

"Well, Gale's ditched the Glimmer-ing idiot, give that another go," I tell her, really not caring what she does (I know, I know, she's my friend and I should care, but she's the type of friend that always pisses you off, but I'm sure I'm that type of friend for her too - we level it out some how).

"I'm not blonde enough or Katniss-enough for that to work, I'm collecting my losses and moving on from that train wreck," Jo rolls her eyes.

I almost ask, but decide against it, if Gale still has a crush on me (God I hope he doesn't talk about it) I don't want to hear about it, that whole thing is just weird. I managed to get through high school without any guy taking any interest or developing "crushes" on me, and while I enjoy the level of desire I bring out of Pete, with other people it still weirds me out. Plus, I need to be friends with Gale, I don't need any more of this stupid "crush" business of his.

Jo breaks the silence by bursting into laughter, Finn and I both look at her startled.

"Sorry," She says with a laugh, "Was just thinking about what I'd call you two… Fannie." She bursts into laughter again at her clever wit of putting Finn and Annie together. Judging by how prolonged her laughter is, I'm betting they were smoking at Gale's.

"Come on, Jo. I've got to get home."

Still chuckling to herself, she slides off the counter. "Tell Pete Happy Birthday. Hope your cake doesn't kill him." She's damn lucky I didn't throw something at her, like my first attempt at a cake.

Pete walks in the door shortly after I pull the cake out of the oven. I had greased the shit out of the pan, so it had better freaking slide right out this time.

He stops and takes in the scene before him. The box the mixer came in was thrown off to the side along with all the packaging. Counters a complete mess and the sink filled with dirty dishes.

"How's it going?" He asks, I can tell he's trying not to laugh or smile.

I narrow my eyes at him, "Fine."

He steps over the box and moves towards me to give me a kiss. He sees the two cake pans, and stares at them for a while. I can see his resolve not to laugh is starting to break.

"The first cake didn't turn out too well," I mumble.

He gives me another kiss, I pull away and point my finger at him, "And I don't care how horrible this one tastes, you can NOT say anything bad about it."

He grins and gives me a nod.

I start making the icing… around the time that the powdered sugar pooffed up in my face, as I was trying to dump the bag in the bowl, Pete offered to help.

"Nice mixer," Pete says and he adds some vanilla to the bowl.

"Don't think, that I'm going to use it often. Birthday cakes only."

He nods solemnly but his eyes twinkle at me and I can't help but smile, he doesn't even need to say it, I'm being ridiculous.

"You were really worried about that, huh," He teases, "You handled yourself pretty well in the kitchen with Christmas cookies."

"That was different, you did most of the work. I mostly put in them in and pulled them out of the oven."

"And you didn't burn a single one," He says proudly, like it had been some great achievement.

I roll my eyes. He nudges my hip with his, "I'll be perfectly happy with birthday cakes only… Does this mean I get another one next year."

"I'll make you a birthday cake every year if you want," I say with a shrug as I scrap the bowl down with a spatula. My face flushes, I feel slightly embarrassed and a little scared over my statement. He's talked of "forever" before, and I love the thought of being with him forever… I've never said anything aloud that implied that I intended to be with him forever.

He sends his fingers lightly up my arm and I meet his gaze, "I'd love that." His voice is a little gruffer and his eyes turn the shade of blue that looks so deep I get dizzy staring into them. The look his eyes are giving me in clear, love.

A/N: A short chapter yes, but rather sweet I think. The next chapter is practically finished so it should be up shortly Probably only have a half dozen chapter left (at most, probably, maybe). I have a rough draft (mentally) finished, and I think I know how I'm going to end it. Naturally I welcome any and all suggestions.