Chapter Twenty: Remember

"Love is not a state, a feeling, a disposition, but an exchange, uneven, fraught with history, with ghosts, with longings that are more or less legible to those who try to see one another with their own faulty vision." —Judith Butler

"Katniss…?"

I'm brought out of my slumber by a deep, yet quiet voice near my ear. I instantly feel the familiar ticklish, electric jolt that runs throughout my entire body. I don't open my eyes, though. I pretend I don't hear Peeta trying to rouse me, because I don't want to face the day just yet. I want to stay here, in between sleep and awakening, safe and content beneath a blanket, wrapped in warm arms….

As soon as my brain finally catches up with my body and I register all of this, I hold my breath and tense up slightly. I vaguely remember falling asleep next to Peeta with his arm around me, both of us sitting up next to each other.

Sometime later, he woke me from a dead sleep, saying something about a crick in his neck and our backs hurting in the morning. I then lay down beside him and went back to sleep without a second thought or word in reply. I was too tired to dwell on it.

But now? Now my mind is racing the more I wake. He has one arm beneath my head and the pillow; the other is draped around me with his hand clasped comfortably within mine, which I've brought up to rest beneath my cheek. I seem to be using the back of his hand as a pillow more than the actual pillow itself. I finally take in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his skin which is mere inches from my nose. He smells like batter, sugar, nutmeg, and a myriad of spices I can't decipher all on their own, but the mixture is delightful and makes me hungry.

"I know you're awake," he quietly mumbles into the side of my neck. I bring my shoulder up to my ear, trying to get the chills from the vibration of his voice to go away. He snorts and shifts behind me, but doesn't remove his arms or hands from where they are; instead, he embraces me closer to him.

And then I feel exactly where his other arm is….

While his hand is tightly entwined within mine under my cheek, his arm is draped around my ribcage, under my own arm, and rests directly in between my breasts. It's completely unavoidable with the way we're lying, though, and he probably doesn't even realize or think it's a big deal. Even though this closeness makes me feel slightly awkward, I'm also surprised that I don't mind it at all. In fact, it seems… familiar, as if we've done this many times before. I've never in my life been this intimate with anyone before, but I find that it's kind of nice; even a little thrilling.

I suddenly feel his soft, warm lips begin to plant tiny kisses along my neck. My heartbeat quickens, and I bite my lip to keep any embarrassing sounds from escaping my mouth. I close my eyes tightly, blocking out the world around me and sinking into the feeling of my own body. I know I probably shouldn't let Peeta do this, and I probably shouldn't let myself enjoy it or get used to it. But I'm powerless to stop it. It feels too good, impossibly good, and I never want this to end.

"Katniss?" Peeta whispers, his lips still lingering on the sensitive flesh of my neck. A powerful chill runs down my body, and though my skin breaks out into goosebumps. I feel feverish. Biting my lip does no good to prevent the involuntary sigh that escapes me.

I hear Peeta take in a deep, ragged breath from behind me, as if my reaction has taken him by surprise. He quickly leans back, putting a small distance between our bodies.

I know that he's perfectly aware that I'm awake now, and I'm a bit mortified at my complete lack of composure. I open an eye and peek over at the bakery windows; the first ray of sunlight hasn't even reached the sky yet.

"Peeta, what do you want? It isn't even daylight out," I mumble groggily, and close my eyes again.

"I know it's early, but Prim's probably going to wake up soon, and Dad's supposed to be here before too long. We should also get ready for school and eat something for breakfast," he tells me. He sighs and gently rests his forehead onto my temple. "If I had a choice, though, I'd freeze this moment and live in it forever."

I don't know exactly how to explain it, but something changed between us last night; or maybe just with me. The kisses we shared were full of comfort, need, and a certain want that I wasn't even aware that I had. And sleeping in someone's arms all night as they hold your hand definitely has a way of bringing you closer to them.

I never really thought anything like this would ever be possible for me. Now I'm someone's girlfriend….

Not just someone's girlfriend; Peeta Mellark's girlfriend.

I know I should listen to him about getting up, but I still don't make any effort to move or open my eyes. I feel his mouth start to leave a trail of kisses on my neck once more. And I know, and I'm sure he knows too, that he's really pushing boundaries this morning. I should object or say something, but knowing the pain I'll probably endure when I get home tonight, I really just don't care. In fact, I welcome it; I might as well try to feel as good as I can while I'm still able to.

"I'd really like to know who slashed my tires, if only to shake their hand," Peeta says against my neck again, causing a wave of electricity to trickle down my back. I can feel the curve of his smile on my skin as he continues, "Because it resulted in what has to be the best night and morning of my entire life. So far, anyway; I'd like to wake every day of the rest of my life with you in my arms..."

The more he speaks, the more my body trembles from the resonance of his voice, and also from the sweet things that he's saying. I still don't know how to process them. I don't come close to understanding why he wants to be with me, or what he sees that I don't. I won't question it anymore, though. I'm afraid that if I do, he'll realize he's made a mistake.

Besides, I may never have a chance to feel normal like this, or experience the kisses or the kind words of a boy ever again. It might be only temporary, but at least I'll know what it feels like to be wanted by someone and to know that they care. Because despite my confusion as to why or how, I know Peeta cares about me. The way he treats me and talks to me is far too sincere to be an act or an ulterior motive. He knows about Snow and the other less than desirable facts about my life, and he's still happy to hold me in his arms and take me on a date.

So even if this is a brief interlude of an unexpected and undeserved romance, I can't deny that I want it.

I'll just enjoy and savor these moments I have with him, and I'll remember them later. I'm sure it'll make the heartbreak that will inevitably happen seem worth it.

"Peeta?" I ask, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"Yeah?"

"Stop trying to tickle me with your voice. I know that's what you're trying to do."

"Oh, really?"

I slowly nod and feel deprived as he unclasps his hand from mine, draws back his arm from my body, and leans up, "I wasn't actually trying to do that, you know, but I'll try to stop tickling you with my voice."

"Good—" I start, tucking my arm under my head as a pillow.

I feel his hand go to my waist under the blanket and I freeze up. My eyes shoot open as he lifts my shirt, exposing my midriff.

"I didn't promise anything about tickling you with my fingers, though!" Peeta replies with a hearty laugh. I flip over and try to remove his hand from my stomach through an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I glance up at him for the first time this morning to see that his face is completely red, and his blue eyes are dancing with mischief.

His fingers continue to dance along my belly, making my sensitive skin crawl and the muscles beneath it spasm and jerk. I can't catch my breath or stop laughing, and he continues to chuckle at the tickling torture he's inflicting upon me. I try to remove his hand, but he's too strong.

"Peeta… STOP!" I attempt to threaten through giggles, "I swear… if you don't… STOP… I'm… going to KILL you!"

"Hearing your laugh would make death totally worth it," Peeta says with a wide grin and a shrug.

Through the laughter, I remove my hands from his arm, knowing I can't get him to budge, and bring them both to his torso. I quickly lift his shirt and start in on tickling him back, running my fingertips over his bare, warm flesh and the coarse hair that runs in a line from his belly button, down further. I know I'd blush at this if I wasn't already red-faced from all the laughing, and I push the embarrassing thought from my head as soon as I think it.

Soon, he's laughing and trying to remove my hands as I quickly and determinedly tickle him everywhere and anywhere on his stomach, being just as relentless as he's being with me.

"Truce! TRUCE, Katniss!"

"You… started this!" I say between laughter and gasps for air. "You stop… and… and then I will!"

"Fine… OKAY! Okay…."

His hand instantly stills just above my lower abdomen; his palm lying flat against the surface of my skin. My hands stop on his stomach, too, and I can feel his breath coming in short spurts and his heartbeat pulsating in his chest, vibrating under my fingertips. My own breath is having a hard time coming back to normal as well. And for a moment, he stares down at me and I back up at him; our eyes locked in place on one another's. I watch as his eyes slowly drift from mine and down to my mouth; he licks his bottom lip, looking surprisingly shy, and glances back up at my eyes as if in bewilderment.

And then, as if by some unstoppable force, we kiss each other. It's not initiated by one or the other, but simultaneous and magnetic. He leans down and I move up, and I find that this kiss has a sort of urgency to it, a passion that I didn't even know I was capable of.

At first, it's just a flurry of open-mouthed and lip-to-lip kisses. But then Peeta does something he's never done before; he slowly and deliberately runs his tongue along my bottom lip. I nervously join mine with his after a moment, running it timidly along the tip of his. I don't know what I'm doing, but it feels good and new, and right now I just feel like I want more; I need to feel closer to him.

My breathing and heartbeat are both still erratic and show no signs of slowing down anytime soon, My entire body is shaking. Our tongues and lips start to move together slowly and rhythmically, dancing, licking, tasting, and discovering the other with courage and curiosity.

His hand starts to move up my torso, curving his fingers and gliding them like feathers along my skin. It tickles me, but not in the same way as before. While the other tickle moved up and out of my body with a laugh, this one moves down my body with a jolt and pulsates between my legs. I've never felt anything like it before, and it takes me by surprise. I bring my thighs together tightly, feeling embarrassed as everything starts to feel warm, and hoping Peeta doesn't notice the change in my demeanor.

I bring my own hands around to his back, sprawling my palms upon his skin and trying to bring him closer to me. He doesn't budge, but I feel his muscles twitch beneath my fingers. His hand stops right at my ribcage, just below the swell of my breasts. And though I know I really shouldn't, I find myself wishing he'd move up an inch or two and touch them.

They almost ache with a need to be felt. My back arches slightly, as some sort of subconscious reaction and indication for him to continue upwards. He doesn't, though, but continues to trace small circles on my skin with his fingertips.

Meanwhile, we never break away from our kissing, which has become slower and much more intimate than anything I've ever experienced.

"Katniss?" I hear Prim's voice call out for me from upstairs.

As if struck by lightning, Peeta and I quickly separate and sit up, attempting to appear as normal and nonchalant as possible, but both failing miserably. I look over at him and give a small, shy smile. He grins back widely, his eyes a little glassy.

"Prim!" My voice comes out shaky and foreign sounding, "I'm down here!"

And now the day officially begins.

Peeta uses the upstairs bathroom while Prim and I get ready downstairs.

Luckily, I planned ahead and had packed clothes for both of us in my backpack in case we were ever locked out of the trailer again. We brush our teeth, braid our hair, and wait for Peeta, who seems to be taking an awfully long time. This is just as well, because I'm a little bit nervous to face him again after what happened between us this morning.

My mind is reeling, and I'm still in a daze from it all.

Prim keeps giving me questioning, knowing looks and I avoid her eyes. I don't want to have to explain anything to her just yet.

"Well, you and Peeta seem a little bit odd this morning," she finally states. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I reply.

She's silent for a moment, scrunching her eyebrows together in contemplation and glancing back at me again as if trying to figure something out. "Did you sleep with him last night?"

"Prim!" I gasp in surprise, my eyes going wide. "I can't believe you'd ask that! And, no, I didn't."

"What's the big deal?" She's now looking even more suspiciously at me. "You and Gale sleep together all the time." Relief washes over me as I realize she was only asking an innocent question, but then her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open as a huge grin comes to her face. "Oh! You thought I meant sex, didn't you?"

She starts to giggle, and I quickly place a hand over her mouth. "Oh my GOD, Prim! Shut up. And don't ever say that word again! You shouldn't even know it!"

She rolls her eyes as I drop my hand. "Geez, Katniss. I'm not a baby."

"To me you are. And I don't want to hear you say that word."

"Which word?" Prim challenges me.

"You know perfectly well which word, and I'm not going to say it."

"Nope, still not sure. You're going to have to tell me."

"Prim! You're being childish."

"Sleep? Gale? Peeta? There are so many words, Katniss—"

"S-e-x," I spell out in a harsh whisper, my cheeks burning. "Now stop being silly! Really, what has gotten into you here lately?"

"Nothing has gotten into me. But as for you, I think Peeta would like—" I quickly bring my hand to her mouth again and shake my head in warning.

"Don't you dare finish that with what I think you're going to!" I remove my hand from her mouth and rub my eyes to rid the stress and sleepiness from them. I honestly can't believe how Prim is being this morning. "You're seriously pushing it!"

"I learnt about it in Health class, by the way. And everyone at school talks about it—"

"I don't care," I counter sternly, feeling extremely uncomfortable to be having this sort of conversation with her. "Don't say it again."

"Sex!" Prim says with a rebellious smirk, "Sex, sex, sex, sex—"

I place my hand over her mouth again, and am fully ready to tell her how immature she's being, when I hear Peeta clear his throat from behind me.

"That's a... uh… interesting conversation," he remarks, an amused and bewildered expression on his face. "Do I even want to know…?"

I quickly shake my head and turn to Prim to see her eyes widen in embarrassment. Good - serves her right.

The rest of the morning goes by in quiet, awkward silence between the three of us. Prim's face is as red as a cherry and she hasn't said one word since. Peeta makes us some eggs and toast, and we follow it with some cinnamon rolls. He brews some coffee to wake us up a little more, and I'm happy to drink it.

Before long, Mr. Mellark arrives and drives us all to school. I listen from the backseat as he and Peeta discuss what to do about the slashed tires as well as the idea of setting up security cameras. Mr. Mellark agrees that this is a necessary thing to do, and reassures Peeta that he'll have them set up along the building by evening. He also states that he'll get Peeta's tires replaced and will drop the car off at the school during lunch time. I can tell there's much more that they'd like to discuss, but they're avoiding the subject around me and Prim.

When we get to school, Peeta and I sit at our regular desk in first hour. Clove glances back at us occasionally with a knowing smirk, but doesn't say anything. She keeps whispering and giggling to the girl next to her, though, and I try to block it out. I have too many other things to worry about.

I have so many thoughts running through my mind. I can't seem to stop thinking about Peeta, and what's happening between us, or the fearful thoughts of how Snow is going to react when Prim and I get home tonight. And then, for some odd reason, I think of Gale and feel a little guilty, as well as resentful because of it. He's my best friend, and I wish I could tell him about all of this. But he doesn't seem to like Peeta, so I know I can't.

We don't get to talk much during class, but every so often, when everyone's attention is on the teacher, he reaches over and squeezes my hand with his. I'll glance over at him and he'll give me an adorable, shy smile, as if to reassure me that everything will be all right. And somehow, when I look at him and feel his hand on mine, it seems like it will be.

At the end of class, Clove finally turns back to us and asks menacingly, "Have an interesting night? Or did things fall a little… flat?"

I'm livid. I want to punch the smirk right off of her face. I doubt she did it all on her own, but I know that she had something to do with Peeta's tires being slashed.

I expect Peeta to lash out in anger, but he only smiles and replies in an overly saccharine and calm tone, "I had a very wonderful and incredible night, Clove. Thanks for asking, how kind and thoughtful of you."

She looks confused for a moment, but doesn't say anything else. Instead, she simply rolls her eyes and walks out of the classroom.

At lunchtime, I opt to stay in the library. Mr. Mellark drops Peeta's car off, but Peeta has to drive him back to the bakery. I know they obviously have a lot to discuss that I shouldn't be privy to, and I feel like I'd be intruding if I joined them. Peeta insists that I wouldn't be, but I tell him that I'd like to finish up a book report, and he doesn't object any further. In fact, he seems a little relieved at my excuse.

The rest of the day goes by rather quickly. For the most part, I don't really notice anyone else or pay any attention to what's going on around me. My mind is full and I can't seem to process anything else.

Soon enough, it's the end of the day and Peeta, Prim, and I are at the bakery again.

Mr. Mellark takes no time at all in showing the camera installations to Peeta as soon as we get there. When we walk inside, he excitedly calls me to the back room for something. Peeta smiles knowingly, but doesn't say anything. He just nods his head in gesture for me to follow his dad. I'm suddenly very nervous.

"Well, Miss Katniss, how was your first week here? Peeta says you're doing an excellent job. He seems quite taken with you."

"I don't know about all of that. Peeta always says nice things," I reply with a smile, not daring to look up at Mr. Mellark's face. I'm sure he's quite aware of how "taken" his son is with me, and it's a little embarrassing. "But I do love working here. It's… wonderful. Thank you again for hiring me."

"I'm pleased to hear that you're fond of the place," he states warmly.

I nod, but I don't say anything. I don't really know what to say.

"Anyway, without further ado, I want to show my appreciation for all your hard work," he says with a wink and reaches into his pocket. He retrieves his wallet and opens it. My eyes widen in realization that he's getting ready to pay me. I know this is a job and all, but I'd been enjoying it so much that I guess it temporarily escaped my thoughts that I'd be compensated for being here.

He takes out some money and hands it to me.

"I think that should be sufficient enough. If it isn't, feel free to let me know. And never be afraid to ask for a loan or any sort of help if you need it," he tells me.

I nod, words escaping me as he places the money in my hands. I count what he'd given me….

This is too much. Way too much. I can't accept this. He obviously made a mistake. "Um, Mr. Mellark," I start, my voice trembling.

"Call me Avory, dear."

"I… I can't take this! I think you made a mistake. This is way, way too much. There's $300 here—"

"No mistake," Mr. Mellark assures me. "You more than earned it."

"But… but I've only been here for a week!" I continue in a high-pitched voice that I can't control. "This is way too much!"

He shakes his head.

"I told you that I'd compensate well, and I don't like going back on my word."

I swallow loudly, trying to blink back the tears that have sprung up in my eyes, but one falls down my cheek anyway. I wipe it away in an instant and answer with a quiet, "Thank you… so much. I really don't know what to say. Just... thank you."

"You're perfectly welcome, Miss Katniss," he answers lightly. "Anyway, I'm really sorry that you and your sister were stuck here last night. So to show my apologies, and because I know that money is probably burning a hole in your pocket about now, I've told Peeta that you all can have the night off—"

"But I—"

"You'll get paid as you normally would for the night," he tells me, "I think you could all use a little breather after everything yesterday."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Now you three go have some fun, okay?"

I nod and slowly make my way to the door, almost expecting him to tell me he's joking and take everything back. "Oh, and Katniss?" I quickly turn back around to face him, biting my lip.

"Yes?"

"Will you do me a favor?" He seems nervous and won't meet my eyes all of a sudden.

"I guess."

"Can you… can you tell your mother that Avory says 'hello'?" I nod and attempt a smile.

I'll tell her, but she won't hear it. Not really.

Peeta insists on taking us somewhere to eat, and asks where we'd like to go. I haven't eaten in a restaurant since before my father died, and I don't have a clue as to where to go, so I tell him anywhere is fine.

We wind up at a local pizza buffet and arcade because, he tells me, "Everyone loves pizza and games."

We're sitting in a booth; he's on one side, and Prim and I are on the other. I barely touch my food. I seem to have lost my appetite just thinking of everyone staring at me.

"Please tell me you're going to eat more than two slices," Peeta tells me with a playful grin. "I mean, Prim has eaten more than you."

I bite my lip and look over at her. She grins widely, obviously pleased with the pile of pizza she has already devoured. She's so tiny, I have no idea where she's putting it all.

"Yep!" she replies enthusiastically, her face glowing. "And going back for more!"

She stands with determination and picks up her plate to head back over to the buffet bar.

"See?" Peeta gestures towards Prim. "That's the spirit!"

He raises a hand up for her to high-five, which she does with a small laugh, before practically skipping to fill her plate again.

"I just don't like people watching me eat," I explain to Peeta. I stare down at my plate, my cheeks burning. "I feel like a pig—"

"You can't be serious!" Peeta laughs and shakes his head. I look up at him, narrowing my eyes. "We're at a buffet, people expect you to be a pig! Anyway, no one's watching you, Katniss, and it really wouldn't hurt you to gain a few pounds."

I arch an eyebrow at him. "Do you not like my body, Peeta?" His eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head.

"I love your body!" He closes his eyes, looking immediately embarrassed by his choice of words. He continues, opening one eye to peek over at me, as if he's wary that I'm mad at him. "Um… I mean, you have a very, very nice body, Katniss. I'm just saying—"

"I get it, Peeta. If I eat a couple more pieces will you be happy?" I say, cutting him off with an amused roll my eyes. He nods, looking relieved that I'd saved him from having to explain any further.

We all eat a bit more before Peeta takes out his wallet and hands Prim a twenty dollar bill. She looks at him with confusion, and so do I.

"Here, why don't you go put this in the coin exchange and get a head start on some of the arcade games?" Her mouth drops open as she looks down at the money in her hand and then back at Peeta.

"Really? Are you sure?" He nods without a second thought, seemingly amused by her reaction. She turns to me and asks, "Katniss, is it okay?"

I shrug and release a breath, then glance over at him with a frown. "Peeta, you really don't have to. You already paid for dinner, and I can more than pay for the games—"

He holds a hand up and shakes his head.

"No. This was all my idea to come here. Everything is on me tonight," he insists. "Now go have fun and kick some butt, Prim. I'll be over in a few, all right?"

She grins widely and practically bounces where she stands.

"You're the best ever, Peeta! Thank you so much!" she says with excitedly before heading off to play. When she's gone, I turn to Peeta and smile shyly.

"So… I guess this is our first date? It's really nice—"

"Oh no. No, no, no," he replies, reaching over and placing his hand on top of mine. "This is just a friendly outing. I mean, I guess you can call it a date if you want. But I have something more special in mind."

"Like what?"

"It's a surprise."

"I don't like surprises."

"Well, I hope you like this one."

"When is this surprise date supposed to happen then?"

He's thoughtful for a moment and shrugs, "Tomorrow evening? Would that be okay with you?"

"Maybe," I answer with a sigh. I'm not really sure at all, though. I don't know what to expect when I get home. It all depends on Snow and what kind of mood he's in. I won't be telling him I'm going on a date, of course. I'll tell him I have to work mandatory overtime for a commission sale. I just hope he'll buy it. After I give him some money, I'm sure he'll be happy to let me make more. At least I hope that's the case. "It should be. But… what about Prim?"

"Not that I don't adore your sister," Peeta starts with a grin, "but I kind of want to have a date with only the two of us. Would either of you be opposed to her staying at the bakery with Dad for a few hours? He'd be happy to teach her a few things in the kitchen—"

"I doubt she'd mind." I do feel a little awkward with Mr. Mellark knowing that Peeta is taking me on a date, though. "But I'd hate to impose-"

"He won't mind at all," Peeta states before I can finish. "Trust me. And if you're feeling weird about him thinking it's a date, don't. I'll only tell him I'm taking you out as a friend, if that makes you feel better?"

I nod and shrug at the same time. "It does, actually. Thanks. I'll ask Prim about it all later."

"Good," he replies. "Do you have a phone or a way I can reach you?"

My stomach immediately twists into knots. Here goes another reason why I'm not normal. "No," I quietly answer. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he reassures me and reaches into his pocket. He retrieves a small, sleek black cellphone and hands it to me. I hold it in my open palm and look at him with a raised eyebrow. What does he want me to do with it? He smiles and answers my thoughts, "Actually, I was kind of planning on that. And even if you did happen to have a phone at home, I wanted you to have this anyway. In case there's an emergency and you need to call me; kind of like a secret phone."

I stare down at it and flip it over in my hands a few times in disbelief.

"This is for me?" I glance back at him and he nods. I shake my head and try to hand it back. "Peeta, this is way too much. I can't accept this."

He places his hand over mine, curving my fingers over the phone.

"You can and you will. I'll take care of the bill and everything. I just don't like the idea of you not being able to call for help if you need it," he replies, quietly and seriously. He leans in a bit closer, "Katniss, please don't ever hesitate to call or text me if you need to, anytime, day or night. I'm here for you. Even if you don't need to, if you just want someone to talk to—"

I nod slowly, glancing down at our hands.

"Don't laugh at me," I start with a twinge of embarrassment, "but I don't really know how to use a phone." He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before letting his hand linger on my cheek.

I meet his kind, sincere eyes with mine.

"I'd never laugh at you. And I'll show you how; it isn't hard at all. Right now I have it set to silent so certain people won't hear it. I figured you might appreciate that. My cell is on speed-dial, by the way—"

I'm about to say something in reply when I feel a heavy hand land on my shoulder and give it a squeeze. I'm almost afraid to look; I hold my breath as I dare to glance over.

I was right to feel anxious.

It's Coin: the head of the local police Department, and the man who helped raise Snow.

I feel my heart skip a beat and leap into my throat. I look down at the table quickly, hoping Peeta remains quiet. I kick him very gently under the table as a sort of warning. I hide my hands and the phone out of view.

"Hey kiddo," he says with fake sentiment. His grip tightens on my shoulder. "You been keepin' your nose clean and outta trouble lately?"

What he means by that is, 'keep your mouth shut or you'll get in trouble.'

"Yes, sir," I quickly answer, attempting to smile and appear normal. I glance over at Peeta, who is now frowning. I can tell he knows something is wrong, but I'm not sure if he knows why.

"That's an attitude I like," he replies and meaningfully raises his thick, grey eyebrows. "Heard you went and got yourself a job. Good on you, kid! Now, you keep your eyes and ears on the narrow, you hear, and know the Department's always watchin' out."

Meaning, 'stay silent or we'll make your life hell.'

"I know," I tell him with a nod, "I will."

I almost wince as he squeezes my shoulder one more time, and then releases me. He turns to Peeta with a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"As for you, boy; keep it up. Y'all have the best doughnuts around," he says. "In fact, the Department might start dropping by more often to give 'yins some more business. Least we can do, now you have this little firecracker workin' for ya."

They'll be stopping by, all right, but it has nothing to do with doughnuts.

"Thank you, sir," Peeta answers with a polite smile, but his voice comes out cold and indifferent. "Well, we should be heading back to work. We're just on a lunch break—"

I nod, grateful that Peeta had taken the hint and basically saved me. If Snow found out that I was hanging out with a boy instead of working, he wouldn't be at all happy.

Coin nods his head and walks off a bit.

"Right. Well, I best be off, too." He looks at me like a snake trying to mimic a bunny rabbit. "You just keep yourself out of unnecessary trouble, all right? You give your daddy my greetings."

As he walks away and out of the restaurant, I have the strong urge to cry. Though his words are kind and thoughtful in appearance, between the lines, I've just been threatened.

Peeta comes around to my side of the booth in an instant, and envelops his arms around me, bringing me into a hug. I know we're in public, but I don't care; I let him. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face into his chest.

I know that he knows, without me having to say anything at all, that the encounter I just had was not a good one.

Finally he says, "We really need to discuss a lot of things tomorrow, Katniss. I need some answers. I want to help you…." I nod, but remain silent.

I trust him, but I'm still scared.

After playing a few games with Prim, and trying to at least enjoy ourselves a little after the meeting with Coin, Peeta reluctantly drives us home. Things are silent the whole ride until we reach the driveway.

He turns in, and I shake my head. "Peeta. You know better. Let us out here."

"At least halfway?" he asks. I glance over at him and can see the worry and fear for us written on his face.

"This is good. We'll be fine," I reassure, but I don't feel anything that I'm saying.

He stops the car and closes his eyes as I open the door. I get out and turn to him, attempting to smile, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He nods and attempts to smile, too, but it seems forced. "I hope."

When Prim and I finally make our way to the trailer, I feel my heart give a sigh of relief. I don't see Snow's truck anywhere, which means he's not home. There's a possibility he was never here last night, and doesn't even know we didn't come home.

Prim seems as excited and happy as I feel at this hopeful revelation, as she skips slightly ahead of me.

When we walk into the trailer, I'm startled to see someone in the kitchen; someone I completely did not expect to see.

My mom is standing still in one spot, her frail, emaciated frame swaying back and forth as if she might fall over at any given moment. She's so weak and skinny, with virtually no muscle mass, that I have no idea how she's standing at all.

"Mom?" I ask in surprise. "What are you doing up?"

Her vacant, dead blue eyes light up in an instant as she looks over at me. She's not really looking at me, though, but looking through me. I can't quite explain it, but it's eerie and makes my stomach feel sick.

"Valena!" she exclaims in a cracked, whispered tone. "I haven't seen you in so long! Is this one of your girls? Oh, isn't she the most precious thing—"

She comes over to Prim and pats her head with skeletal fingers. Her sunken eyes shine with a slight sparkle of her former self, but I know it's a lie. This has happened before, but not often, and it's always temporary. It's usually only when Snow has been gone for a while, and hasn't been around to keep her sedated. She only remembers the past when she's like this, and seems to block out any time after her marriage to him.

She almost always refers to me as Valena; my dad's sister. I barely remember her, but only enough to know that we resemble each other quite a bit. Or we did. Aunt Valena died two years before my dad died in the mines.

"It's me, Prim. I'm your daughter," Prim slowly explains as if she's talking to a small child. "Don't you remember?"

Mom glances down at her and tries to smile, but it's an echo of one. It's not real, and it doesn't meet her eyes. It stretches the tight skin of her face in a way that looks painful.

"You know, my little Kitty-Kat wears her hair in two braids, just like you," she says, and absently runs her hands down the length of Prim's braids. My mom's own hair is matted in blond, thin clumps around her head. "It's not often she gets to play with girls around her own age, so I know she'd just love to meet you. She should be getting home from school any moment now."

As she says this, she looks at a wall that has nothing on it, as if seeing a clock there. I try to remind her who we are, though I know she won't remember.

"Mom, I'm Katniss. This is Prim," I introduce slowly, feeling tears start to form in my eyes; which is silly. I should be used to this. I shake my head, knowing she doesn't understand me at all. She doesn't know who we are, at least as the daughters who are standing in front of her. She only remembers us as the little girls we once were when she was happy. Our names only belong to characters in a story that replays in her head. "You should probably be lying down—"

I move over to try to brace her and help her back to bed. She moves back and raises a hand as if hearing something in the distance, but all there is is dead silence.

"Oh! There's the oven timer. You're just in time for the cookies! I don't mean to brag, but I learned from the absolute best." She moves over to the corner of the kitchen and opens an imaginary oven, retrieving air that she believes and sees as a tray of baked goods.

Prim starts to sob and runs over to Mom, hugging her around the waist. Although tiny and frail herself, Prim looks quite healthy in comparison.

"Mom! Listen to Katniss! I'm Prim. I'm your daughter," she says in a rush, tears running down her cheeks. She glances up at Mom and pleads with her eyes and words, "I love you! Please remember me?"

Mom looks unmoved and only holds the imaginary tray of cookies above Prim's head.

"Careful, dear, you'll get burned!" She then sniffs the putrid air around us. Snow hasn't emptied the toilet bucket in a while, and I can't lift it. "Mmmm, doesn't that smell delicious?"

"There aren't any cookies! It's not real, Mom. We're real; I'm real—"Prim starts to exclaim with annoyed determination. Mom's eyes seem puzzled for a second as she looks over at me with a tilt of her head.

"Valena, is your daughter feeling ill? She's welcome to go lie down in Kitty's room for a while," she suggests, placing the imaginary cookies on a counter of air. She pats Prim's head and glances back over at me. "Vance should be home soon, by the way. He's off goofing around with Gary, and you know how they can get—"

She's talking about Dad and Gary Hawthorne, Gale's dad, and I can't take it anymore. It's hard enough seeing the living walk around like they're dead; I can't take her talking about the dead as if they're living.

"Mom," I start, gulping back a sob that is determined to escape my throat. I know she won't understand anything I say, but I have to say it anyway. "I'm not Aunt Valena; she's dead. Dad's dead. Gary Hawthorne is dead. I'm Katniss and this is Prim. I'm seventeen and she's eleven, and you're married to Snow—"

She shakes her head and gives a hollow cough of a laugh. She waves her hand, her body trembling from the exertion of atanding for so long.

"Snow? Don't be silly; it's too warm for that. Here, try one of these," she reaches out to give me air. I shake my head and let a tear fall. I can't help it. I should be used to this, but I'm not. I never will be. She reaches for my hand and opens it, placing an invisible cookie in my palm with her icy hands. "Go on, bite into it, and tell me that isn't the dreamiest tasting—"

"MOM! Listen to Katniss! Everyone is dead, and there aren't any cookies! Please remember us, please take us and leave here, and we'll never look back!" Prim starts again, desperation in her tone. She hugs Mom tighter and sobs into her chest. She looks up at her with innocent, wide eyes, hoping and trying with all her childlike might to bring Mom to her senses. "He hits us, Mom! He hurts us and I'm tired of it. He tried to kill Katniss! Just… please be normal again… for us? You loved us a long time ago. Remember? Please… please… please remember. I know you could, if you tried hard enough."

Mom looks down at her and gives her a smile as if not really hearing her words at all. Prim closes her eyes and starts crying harder, shaking her head.

"Prim—" I move over to pull her away, knowing she's hoping for something that's pointless, and she's only going to end up disappointed. I place my hands on her shoulders, but Prim shrugs me away and clings to Mom even tighter.

"Leave me alone, Katniss!" she yells at me. "I want her to remember! We just have to make her remember, and then we can finally leave."

"Aren't you an affectionate little sweetheart?" Mom finally speaks again, and it comes out thin and airy, as if her body is too weak to even support her voice anymore. "Just like my little Kitty-Kat; always giving hugs and kisses away, even to complete strangers." My body is shaking and I close my eyes to try to block out what she's saying. I hate when she talks about me when I was a child. I was totally different then; carefree, sweet, and loving. I had no reason not to be. I didn't know heartache then.

"Oh, you should have seen it Val! Katniss kissed the youngest Mellark boy because he gave her a butterfly cupcake last Sunday, and I swear the little cherub blushed ten shades of red. By the time we left, he was professing his undying love for her, and she said she'd marry him only if he made her a butterfly cupcake every day. It was the cutest thing ever—"

My eyes snap open at this. Surely I heard wrong? She can't be talking about Peeta. I don't remember this at all. Maybe it's a figment of her imagination? I wonder if Peeta remembers? My mind is reeling. I don't know what to believe anymore.

"Is she talking about you and Peeta?" Prim looks back at me with red eyes and blotchy cheeks. She narrows her eyes in confusion. "I didn't know you knew each other before. Does Mom know Mr. Mellark?" She glances up at Mom and asks slowly and loudly, "Do you know Mr. Mellark, Mom?"

"Prim, stop. She's not in her right mind—"

"Duh, Katniss! She's never in her right mind!" Prim replies harshly, her hope and desperation starting to turn to anger and resentment. "I guess she doesn't love us enough—"

"Stop it."

"It's true!"

"It's not. She just doesn't know any different."

"Because she doesn't care to! She doesn't care if we get hurt or if we die—"

"And I told Avory we'd have to keep an eye on them from now on. Kisses are cute when they're seven, but at seventeen—"

"Mom, please," I plead, my stomach twisting into knots. I want so badly to be able to sit down and have a heart-to-heart, and tell her about Peeta; about my first kiss, my first job, my first boyfriend, and the nervousness I feel at having a first date. But I can't. I don't have that luxury. I move over and wrap my arm around her shoulder, trying to direct her to her bedroom.

"Come on, let's go lie down, okay? Let's get some rest."

Prim lets go of her and stands back, her arms crossed. She looks disdainfully at Mom, and her eyes look so much older than she is.

"She hates us. If she really loved us, she would have left Snow in the beginning. She wouldn't have stayed and—"

I turn to her and shake my head, feeling my patience run out. I'm doing my best to keep my own composure, I can't do it for both of us.

"Now is not the time, Prim. I need to get her back in bed in case Snow comes home."

"Why? Let Snow hurt her for a change! Maybe she'll remember something about us. It's all her fault things are like this, anyway! She's a horrible mother, the worst—"

"He shouldn't be hurting anyone!" I know Prim is angry and hurt, but her insults rub me the wrong way. I feel defensive, knowing the mother I used to have at one time. She was amazing; the most amazing mother anyone could ever hope to have. She did love us. She loved us dearly at one point in time. I look back at Mom with nostalgia clawing at my insides. She's basically a ghost of her former self, and I know she'll never be the same again.

"She wasn't always like this. At one time she was a really good mom, you know."

"So what? It doesn't help us now. Besides, all she remembers is stuff about you, Katniss! She doesn't even remember me at all."

Prim's lips tremble and a small sob escapes her, despite trying to appear cool and unmoving. I'm uncertain of what to say to make her feel better. I had time with Mom and got to know who she was before all of this. She lost her mind when Prim was really young, though, and I realize they never got a chance to know each other at all.

And I wonder which is worse: knowing the greatness of someone, and watching their light slowly fade away, or never witnessing the light to begin with.

I release Mom, who now seems to be in a sort of catatonic, motionless state, and move over to Prim to comfort her.

"She does, too, Little Duck," I tell her softly, trying to bring her into a hug. She remains rigid in my arms, though. "Deep down, she remembers. She just doesn't right now—"

Prim shakes away from my embrace, narrowing her eyes at both of us as she backs away towards the bedroom.

"I take back what I said; I don't love her! She doesn't even know who I am! I hate her, I hate Snow, I hate living here, I hate—"

"Shut up!" I can't take sweet little Prim, my normally very caring and loving sister, speaking like this. I understand why she feels the way she does, but I just can't handle it right now. It makes this situation ten times harder to deal with.

"I hate you, too!" And just like that, I feel my heart break into a million pieces. Never, in her whole life, has Prim ever told me she hated me. I'm speechless as tears cloud over my eyes. "We could leave here and stay with Peeta and be happy, but you stay here for her."

It's not that simple. She has to know it can never be that simple. I wish it was. Tears pour down my cheeks as I lose any remaining composure I have.

Prim goes into our bedroom and slams the door behind her.

"We're all going to die here, Kitty-Kat," Mom replies monotonously all of a sudden, and as I turn to her, she collapses to the ground, her body finally losing its strength and giving out.