CHAPTER 36

The morning brings a number of things to keep me busy. First, Gale and I are woken by a noisy alarm clock at 6:30 a.m. We are expected to shower, get dressed, and be in the cafeteria by 7:00. This is an easy schedule to stick to for us, as we can get ready quickly. But for a gorgeous, younger girl like Saller, it's a struggle. She arrives ten minutes late - and rest assured, her absence is noted by a soldier standing guard in the corner of the room. The moment Saller arrived, the soldier went to find Beads and reported her tardiness.

Gale and I don't talk at breakfast. Or even at lunch, for that matter. Lunch is eaten at a place of our choice. I say I want to eat back at the compartment, so Gale announces that he's eating outside in the courtyard with Johanna, Quake, and Rendwick. Thankfully, Prim notices my solitude-to-be and offers to go back to my compartment with me. Our lunch is spent getting to know each other again. An unappetizing meal of undercooked quail and lumpy potatoes is made good by the lively conversation between us.

Try as I might, I can't bring myself to ask Prim about Gale. I steer clear of the topic as much as I can so I won't worry her. The last thing I need is my sister thinking that I'm jealous of her sham of a marriage to my boyfriend/best friend.

The term "boyfriend" seems so cliché and out-of-place in a world where I have never had time for a real boyfriend. Boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to date. When I was younger, people in the Seam didn't date. They'd eat supper with each other's families once a month, or sit next to each other in class. Only the merchants' outings could really be called "dates," although they weren't much different from ours in the Seam.

I suppose whatever Gale and I have can't be defined by a single word. It's more than that. Especially now that we're older, with more secrets and baggage than either of us expected. But we love each other. And love - no matter how dysfunctional - counts for something. It can't be ruined by a simple misunderstanding . . . right?

After what happened last night, I can't be so sure.

We have a briefing with Beads after lunch; the one that was scheduled for eight o'clock this morning was bumped to one o'clock this afternoon. We begin with Prim being introduced to our squad. Then Beads goes over what's expected of her and the rest of us for the next few weeks. Next, the others ask for updates on the whereabouts of their loved ones. Although I understood their desperation for answers, there are none to give.

The meeting is adjourned after Beads tells us to find something to do until supper time. I meet Prim at the door and leave with her. We head to the courtyard. Midway to the building's exit, she stops me.

"Katniss," she says.

"Prim, We have a whole afternoon ahead of us. Come on," I say, ignoring the stress in her voice that I don't notice until later.

"No, Katniss, I-"

At that moment, Cress approaches Prim and taps her arm. I know exactly why he's here. As a child, Cress was more curious than anyone I'd ever known. Annie always assumed that he'd grow out of his nosy habits, but they've only grown with age. It was painfully apparent throughout today's briefing that Cress wanted to know more about what happened to Prim. Now, with Annie off his back for a few hours, he's getting his chance.

"Hey, Cress," Prim says.

"Hi, Sergeant Hawthorne," he replies. He's wringing his hands nervously. Suddenly, I have an urge to do the same thing, but for a different reason. "Can you tell me about when you were hiding?"

Prim shoots me a questioning look - a silent request for my permission. I nod once and wave my hand slightly to show my indifference. "Yeah, go on. Have fun, Cress."

"Thanks, Aunt Kat," he says.

Prim smiles at Cress - the nurturing smile that she gives every child - and nods. "Okay, let's go outside and find us somewhere to sit."

The two of them walk away without another glance in my direction. I watch them leave. Once they're outside, I walk towards the exit again. My intention is to go back to my compartment until I remember that I'd be there alone. So rather than dwell in loneliness, I scan my surroundings. Behind me are two hallways and the door to Command. I've never been down either hallway, and there's nothing else for me to do for the next few hours, so I pick a hall and wander aimlessly down it until I come to a dead end. But it's not really a dead end, is it? Because there's a tall glass door right in front of me. It's not as deserted as I'd like - the glass is spotless, so someone has cleaned it recently - but it is secluded, which is good. I need some time alone right now. And doesn't seem to be off-limits, which is also good because I'm really not in the mood to receive a lecture from Beads.

I turn the cold, metal handle and push open the door to reveal a well-maintained flower garden. It's small, but the hedges are planted in a way that gives the illusion of being in a maze, making everything appear bigger. I round the first corner of hedges and pause when I find someone sitting on a wooden bench a few feet away. This scene immediately strikes me with a sense of familiarity, since the last time I spoke to this person was in a garden.

He must've heard me behind him, because he looks up. The sight of me brings a smile to his lips, which have been drained of their usual merry pink and transformed to a splotchy, dull color due to the cold. "Oh. Hey, Katniss."

"Hey, Peeta," I say. I ease myself onto the bench beside him. Wordlessly, we watch a group of ants crawl from the top of an ant hill in a single-file line. Behind us, I hear a moth buzzing around by the lamp post. Since the sky is so dark and overcast, the lights on the lamp posts have already been turned on for the night.

"It's nice out here, isn't it?" Peeta says.

"Yeah, if you don't mind the cold," I comment. I glance over at him. "How long have you been hanging out here?"

"Since the end of the meeting."

"No, mean-"

"Oh. Uh, since I got here. To Seven." He chuckles nervously. "Kind of pathetic, right?"

"No, not at all," I say.

The sun goes behind the clouds for a moment. A shadow is cast over the place where the ants were crawling, hiding them from our sight. When the sun emerges again, it's in vain - the ants have just disappeared behind a clump of dandelions.

Dandelions? In January? That can't be possible; they don't bloom this early. But when I look again, I see I'm right. There is a small patch of yellow dandelions right where I last saw the ants. And they're wild, too; the untouched soil around the weeds makes this apparent.

Peeta must see what I'm focused on. "I was wondering about those, too."

I look at him curiously. "Why did they come up so early this year?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't seen them growing anywhere else," he says. "Maybe it's some kind of fertilizer they used."

"Maybe," I say. But dandelions don't sprout at random, contrary to Peeta's theory. And since it's a dandelion and these bright weeds have a special meaning to me, I can't help but wonder if their appearance runs a little deeper than that. "So, have you talked to Prim?" I ask to change the subject.

"Not yet. I wanted to wait until you'd had your turn with her."

I should be polite and tell him how his gesture was unnecessary, that he can visit her whenever he likes. But his leaving me alone was just as polite as the denial I won't give him, because I'd be lying if I said I didn't need my time alone with Prim last night, even if it was with Gale.

"Thanks," I say.

"Don't mention it." He smiles a little. "I heard you talked with her last night. You and Gale both, right?"

I look down at my hands, which have become fidgety as a distraction. Don't ask about it, please don't ask about it, I think.

"How'd it go?" Peeta asks like I knew he would. I could hold a whole hypothetical conversation with him in my mind and know exactly what he'd say to everything I brought up. However, predicting his actions doesn't mean I get to hear what I want to hear, and I certainly didn't want to hear this. There's only one bone in my body that doesn't object to sharing the events of last night. I mean, having someone to talk to about this new theory of mine - the one about Prim and Gale - might help me sort things out.

Even so, I hesitate. This oppurtunity to express my deepest worries makes me anxious. Peeta can be trusted, so why do I feel so uneasy? Maybe because saying it out loud makes it real. Telling someone that Prim might have feelings for Gale is like telling someone that my house caught fire. Everyone will rush in to help. And that's the last thing I want.

"Not so great, huh?" he says. My eyes snap up to him, flustered from being yanked out of my thoughts. Peeta laughs. "You're an open book, Katniss. I can tell when something's wrong."

He waits for me to continue. When I hesitate, he says, "You don't have to talk to me about it, though."

"No," I say. "No, I want to. I just don't want . . ." I sigh tiredly. "I don't want you to say 'I told you so.'"

"I can't think of a single time that I've ever said 'I told you so.' But we'll give it a spin if you want."

I chuckle once, quietly, but it's mostly to release my nerves. "I don't know for sure, but I . . . I think Prim-"

"Might have feelings for Gale?" Peeta finishes for me. My eyes are wide with surprise and confusion as I nod my head. If Peeta suspects it, could it be true?

"Katniss, I don't think you need to worry about Gale having eyes for anyone but you." He laughs - a sad sound that's poorly disguised as light-hearted. "He loves you."

"That's the thing," I say, bearing with caution. "It's not Gale I'm worried about."

Peeta's face blanks out. "Oh, Katniss, you don't think . . ."

I nod, my face strained. "Yeah. I do."

"That's . . . I mean, she couldn't."

"You didn't see them last night, Peeta," I whine out, distressed. "The way she looked at him. And her lips lingered by his cheek."

Peeta reassures me again. "Listen to me now, okay? Look. Look at me." I tilt my head slightly and gaze at him again. "The way Gale looks at you? I've seen it before. It's the way I looked at you. No, the way I still look at you." Peeta shakes his head in denial and scoffs at himself. "I'm pathetic, I know. But this isn't about me. Look, my - my point is that you can only ever be in love with one other person in your lifetime. That's how our hearts work. You may think you're in love, but it's just infatuation. Real love . . . you just know it's there. You can feel it."

He looks at the stone pathway beneath our feet to clear his thoughts. Then his focus is back on me. "I love you, Katniss. I always will. And I know you love me. But I wasn't the one you fell in love with. Gale is. And it's the same for him."

"How?" I ask. None of this seems to lead back to Gale.

"Well, you and Gale were best friends. You and Prim were like his sisters. But then he realized you were more than that. I don't know Prim's feelings. Honestly, I never knew her well. But I know that she'd never hurt you. She wouldn't take Gale away from you. And she couldn't if she tried. Gale loves you, Katniss. And that doesn't change. Love doesn't change."

"You're sure?" I ask quietly.

Peeta's pure, crystal blue eyes are gleaming as they peer into mine. He gives my hand a comforting squeeze. "Yes, I'm sure." A short pause is given before he says, "You know I'm always here for you, don't you?"

I nod, mesmerized by the sparkle in his eyes.

"You're still worried, aren't you?" he asks. And without waiting for an answer, "I know exactly what it's about, too. You have to understand what I said, that love doesn't change. All that time away from Gale didn't change his feelings for you. And it obviously didn't change your feelings for him, either."

I look away. Guilty bile rushes through my stomach and rinses away my worry, only to replace it with something worse. I wish I could tell Peeta that there was a time when I l really did love him. But after all I've put him through, it'd be best to keep my mouth shut.

"You know about Prim and Rory, Katniss. It all makes sense, doesn't it? Hers and Gale's wedding, Rory staying the week, her giving birth nine months later. Rory being the only one in his family who knew about Lane, and him being the one to lie about Lane in the first place."

It takes about a minute of listening to Peeta talk before everything starts to make sense. From the beginning, Peeta has known way too much about Prim and Gale and Rory and the new rebels. It always rubbed me the wrong way, how he knew more than anyone else did at any given time. And although I don't know how he's doing it, I do know one thing.

There is something very, very wrong with Peeta Mellark.

"Peeta," I say slowly, careful not to enrage the bear.

"Yeah?"

A split second of confusion hits me and I have to pause to gather my thoughts. But there's so many, and I'm no longer sure of exactly what I'm accusing Peeta of. Am I calling him a traitor to the rebels? A liar? An eavesdropper? A spy?

"How do you know all that?"

"All what?"

"About Prim and Rory, how-"

Peeta drops my hand, leaving it limp and empty at my side. "What are you implying?" he asks.

"I - I don't know," I stammer.

"Katniss, Beads went over all that at the meeting, didn't he?" Peeta waits for a response that doesn't come. "He did, remember?"

There's something in his overly-anxious eyes that tells me not to push this any farther. Not here and not now, when I'm alone and no one knows where I am. So I laugh and flick my wrist dismissively. "I think I do remember, actually. Sorry. Must be my hormones or something."

His expression twists in repugnance. The thought of my pregnancy must make Peeta sick, and it's this that ultimately leaves me in stitches. Up until now, I felt sorry for even being in the same room as Peeta, considering how things had gone down between us. Now, I have every right to rub it in his face. Because Peeta has been playing me for a while, I suspect. And it's going to stop now.

I find Gale sitting at our assigned spot in the cafeteria. I can't focus on anything other than getting to Gale, stealing him away early for the night, and telling him about Peeta. I'm too distracted to pay attention to the lunch lady, who slaps a glob of something heavy onto my dinner tray. I'm too distracted to figure out what the glob is. I'm too out-of-things to address the three people that greet me as I pass by their tables to get to mine. And when I reach my spot next to Gale, I'm too absorbed to see that he's purposely ignoring me.

"Gale," I say.

He continues talking to Johanna, who's seated to his left. I don't bother to find out what they're talking about.

"Gale," I say again.

Can he even hear me?

"Gale." My voice is a louder this time. I know he hears me now - his fist tightens around his fork and he exhales sharply. Still he ignores me.

I let the rest of the meal go by without talking to him, or anyone else, for that matter. I can't let my mind go to anything other than this current situation with Peeta. What's going on with him? How does he know all those things about Prim - things that were told to no one but me?

While I scarf down my glob of mush, I try to tell myself that I'm overreacting. That Gale told Peeta, thinking I wouldn't mind him knowing. But no, Gale wouldn't do that. Gale doesn't make a habit of fraternizing with Peeta to begin with. He certainly wouldn't go out of his way to tell Peeta things about his personal life with Prim.

Could Beads have really discussed those things at the meeting a few days ago, though? It's a possibility. What with my emotions being out-of-whack lately, it wouldn't surprise me if he'd gone over it and I've completely forgotten. Maybe my cover-up wasn't too far from the truth. My hormones from the pregnancy might be messing with my brain, leaving me confused and crazy. Or the more likely, I fell asleep during that part. Yes, that would make sense.

But maybe my instincts are spot-on. Maybe Peeta's really hiding something.

When supper is over, Gale slides up from his chair and starts heading to the trash can with his food tray. I scurry after him, running into several soldiers and nearly tripping over an apple core that fell off someone's tray and landed on the floor in front of me.

It's not long before Gale - whose head I can see above the pack of others - begins retreating from the cafeteria. I can't afford to lose him in the crowd now. Not when I so badly need to talk to him.

I discard my supper tray on the nearest table I can find and dart forward, pushing past soldiers and a few familiar faces from my squad. "Excuse me," I mutter a few times before giving up on manners. I can't see him anymore.

The dark of the night blinds me in a new way once I get outside and see that the sun has already set behind the pine trees that surround the fort on every side. I spin in circles, searching for him. He has to be somewhere. Then I spot him.

"Gale!" I call out, running after him.

He slows his pace, but doesn't stop walking. I come down from my run by jogging off into a brisk walk at his side. Even now, he won't look at me.

"Gale," I say. "We need to talk."

He ignores me. I turn my head for a moment, thinking. Why won't he answer me?

"Seriously, Gale. We really need to-"

He skids to a halt, and his military boots make a skiiiiitch! sound against the concrete, making me cringe. His eyes are glaring down into mine, his irises practically red with anger. "We are not talking right now. Got it?"

My features scrunch up in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me. We're not talking." He starts walking away again. His stride is longer than mine, so I have to jog after him.

"Gale, what's wrong with you? This is important!"

Once again, he stops. This time, it's so sudden that I collide with him. His hands grip the tops of my arms tightly to steady me. I glance down at his hands, then back up at him, blushing at how close he is to me. After all this time and after all we've been through, I'm still flustered when he's near me. A girlish giggle sounds from some sensitive place in my heart, despite how mad I am at Gale. His mutual anger, however, doesn't falter. His arms go back to his sides and he glowers at me, but he doesn't make an attempt to move away. He's always liked that sense of intimacy, no matter how heated an argument or how inappropriate the situation. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Or in Gale's case, just keep everyone close.

"Do you seriously not know what's wrong?" he shouts. "I know you're not that dumb."

What could possibly be wrong? Other than that argument we had last night, nothing has happened between us.

"Is this about last night?" I ask.

Gale scoffs. "I should've known you'd pretend it didn't happen. Shit, Katniss, you probably don't even see a problem with it, do you? You probably thought that somehow I'd be okay with it."

"What are you talking about?" I say, my voice rising to a defensive pitch.

"You know, I was considering giving you a chance to come clean by yourself, but I'm glad I didn't. You never would've said anything."

"I can't admit to it if I don't know what I did!" I protest.

In half of a second, he has turned around, punched the side of a lamp post, and turned to face me again without the slightest bit of pain from the hit registering on his face. Instead, he looks deadly. "Damn it, Katniss, I already know what you did! Just drop the act already!"

I back away from him as tears well up in my eyes. Whether they're from anger or fear, I'm not sure. "Don't you think I'd tell you if I knew what you were talking about?" I shriek.

Gale's eyes are glistening with fresh tears, too, now. It's hard to tell why they're there until he speaks. "You know, I trusted you. I must sound like some kind of an idiot to you, though. I mean, this was what you were going for all along, right? This is why I'm here?"

Gale takes a step towards me, closing the space I created just moments ago. His voice is shaking now. "I believed you, Katniss. You told me she was mine and I believed you. I believed you, damn it!"

He turns away and punches the lamp post again, harder. This time, his knuckles return to open air bloody and beaten. I reach out for his arm, wanting to examine his injury, wanting to heal it with my weak hands and make things right. But he snatches it away from me before I can touch him, his face twisting in revulsion. "You think we can just kiss and make up like we usually do and I'll forget what happened. But I have to draw the line somewhere. Screwing another guy . . . That does it."

Gale starts walking away, leaving me standing in the middle of the sidewalk with a gaping mouth and a pounding heart. What is he talking about? Sleeping with another guy? Drawing the line? Baby isn't his?

And then it all makes sense.

Peeta got to him before I did.

A/N: Oh gosh! What in the world is going on here?! Is it just a big misunderstanding, or is something deeper running around in Squad 451? Is Peeta the bad guy here, or is Katniss a little paranoid? Did he tell Gale something about Katniss, or did someone else? What is Gale really going on about? And of course, we're still wondering if Prim has feelings for Gale. Well, you'll find out soon. But in the meantime, please leave a review telling me what you thought of the chapter! I only got 4 or 5 reviews for the last chapter even though to me, it was one of the most important and highly anticipated ones yet! I mean, Prim came back! I thought more people would want to review. But I loved the reviews I did get. They were all a nice length and said exactly what you felt about the chapter. (And they were all positive!)

Anyhow, please review and let me know your thoughts and feelings! I love you guys :)