I jolt awake halfway through Peeta's watch, strangely thinking he screamed my name. I think that was just my dream... Thank God I didn't scream or lash out this time. Prim slightly shivers beside me, curled up in a tight ball. I reach over and grab her hood, pulling it up over her blond braids. I look over at Peeta, who sits a few feet away from me. Careful not to wake anyone, I creep across several sleeping bags towards him.
"Why are you awake already?" He asks in a stern tone when he sees me. I give an aggravated sigh.
"You know I can't sleep, Peeta."
"Yes... but you should really try through," he says, giving me such a caring, selfless expression I can't feel agitated anymore. I lay down on the ground beside him, feeling the soft, damp dirt underneath me. I could bring my sleeping bag over, but for some reason the real earth feels more soothing at the moment.
Without uttering a word, Peeta reaches out and gently brushes the hair out of my face, his touch so light I hardly sense it at first. I shut my eyes, allowing him to stroke my forehead. Instantly, I ache to be alone with him, to lay in his bed and fall asleep knowing I'm completely safe for a time...
Peeta coaxes me awake when I have to take watch. I lean against a tree, feeling refreshed and rested. I seem to stare longingly at Peeta while he lays down to rest again, until I snap my gaze away. My focus turns to Gale, now sleeping beside his family. Even though Peeta stroking my hair was hardly anything to be upset over, I desperately hope Gale wasn't watching us.
I not only don't want him to feel jealous, but I'd also feel invaded if he witnessed that moment between us. Why do my instances with Peeta feel almost sacred to me? Why should they? I press my dry hands to my face, my head spinning with these questions.
Every time I'm with Peeta, his kindness and peaceful comfort practically intoxicate me. I'm suddenly reminded of those moments in the cave, his caresses and gentle murmurs during those nights on the train, even his sincere smile when he saw me in that blue dress I wore the other day... I can tell when he's not pretending, even when we are supposed to. He plays the star-crossed lovers act naturally, inserting real pieces of his feelings into the performance.
I drop my hands. For once, I try to make a decision tonight. Despite how much initial discomfort it may bring me, I cannot choose Gale. Every time I think about us being together, I feel like I'm betraying a part of myself-the part that desires Peeta. I'm not ready to commit myself to a relationship with him, not yet, but for now I've decided that it will never be Gale.
I glance over at him, watching his back rise and fall in sleep. I'm just not right for him. We're dangerously similar and incredibly stubborn. I can't butt heads with him anymore.
But I will never forget our friendship. I still want to be friends with him so bad. I want him to someday still go hunting with me without being blinded by jealousy. Although I will never get them back, I want to relive my childhood with him. I want to be friends with him during a time when everything was less complicated and the stupid notion of love wasn't between us.
The Games altered everything. I have to remember that.
I only realize that I forgot to wake up Haymitch as dawn steadily approaches. I guess I was too focused on my thoughts. The children open their eyes first, and although they don't beg for food, their expressions reveal that they're starving. I swallow, also feeling the dull pain of hunger in my stomach.
We have food. You can hunt if you run out. I remember.
In the back of my mind, I always worry that we'll go hungry, just like we used to in Twelve, but we have weapons and at least two people who know how to hunt for meat. I ask Peeta for the bag, and I take out three large loaves of cheesy bread. We devour them in chunks, praising Peeta between bites for his excellent baking skills.
I make everybody roll up their sleeping bags and begin moving quickly. Traveling becomes a bit easier as the day goes on once we organize ourselves. Peeta suggests each person receive a buddy, so nobody gets lost or left behind. Mrs. Hawthorne and Posy, my mother and Vick, Rory and Gale, Peeta and Haymitch, Prim and I.
Rory and Gale end up leading the group for a while, because Prim (as hard as she tries) has a difficult time keeping up with me if I guide us. I slip out the old, crinkled map Haymitch gave me and allow Gale to use it. The farther we distance ourselves from Twelve, the lighter my tread feels. I think it's safe enough for us to talk at a normal volume now, and even tell stories and make jokes along the way. I discover that the journey could actually be kind of fun.
Haymitch (half-way through his flask of whiskey) recalls a goofy story about his first time as a mentor and a certain ridiculous and rowdy Capitol party he attended. He dives so far into detail about one incidence where he ended up half-naked and heavily drunk in President Snow's study with two stylists that Peeta and I hastily cut him off.
"Keep the stories kid-friendly, okay Haymitch?" Peeta tells him, trying to suppress a chuckle.
"Oh. My bad-my bad," Haymitch replies, gulping down the remainder of his whiskey. Peeta and I can't help but laugh, for we've only heard too many interesting stories from him when he's in the mood and has a drink in hand.
Towards the evening we find ourselves traveling down a rough valley. The temperature has dropped, and I try to make sure everyone is staying warm. A slight breeze combs over us... Slowly, it becomes stronger, like a large gust of wind. I glance up momentarily to catch the glimpse of the corner of a gray wing with the Capitol crest. A hovercraft.
"Get down, now!" I hiss just loud enough for the group to hear. Pure fear pulses through my veins. I clench Prim's hand tightly, forcing her to duck behind a bush. A hand is placed on my upper back, and I feel Peeta hovering protectively over me. We all practically lay on our stomachs in the dirt, struggling to keep our breaths even and quiet. Posy begins to whimper, tears streaming down her cheeks. Gale clamps a hand over her mouth and gently whispers something in her ear.
The roaring of their engines continues for about five minutes. How many could there be? At least four? They must be searching for us. Barely two days have passed and they've already discovered we've gone missing. If a single peacekeeper spots us from those hovercrafts, we're dead or worse. Images of terrible torture sessions burn in my brain.
It feels like an hour after they have passed, but we don't stand up. No, not yet.
Please don't let them see us. I can't lose these people. I plead, but I'm not sure to who. I'm surprised when Haymitch is the first to speak.
"Katniss, I think we're okay," he insists, his expression seeming suddenly sober. He nods, as if he's serious.
"I don't think they were even looking for us," he quietly adds. I push myself off of the ground.
"What do you mean?"
Haymitch gazes at me with somber eyes.
"They're heading to Twelve. I'm sure the rebels held them off as long as they could," he explains. I find my lips trembling.
"But they're not going to... bomb Twelve?" I ask him desperately.
"Who knows... Thirteen may get there in time to defend the district. They have plenty of hovercrafts to fight back," he tries to reassure me.
I'm not sure what to say. I clench my teeth together, forcing myself to grasp onto a small thread of hope. Thirteen might be able to save my district... but I can't help think the chance is slim. Would Snow have ordered the bombs to be dropped anyway, or is this a consequence for our escape?
I try to summit myself to Snow's will-get married to Peeta, have children-and it isn't enough. I instead try to run away to save my loved ones-and he threatens to burn my district to the ground.
I take in a breath. Gale stares at me, trying to remain strong and silently telling me to do the same.
"Let's keep moving," he finally suggests. My thoughts are in disarray, but I grab Prim's hand once more and we march across the valley. I glance behind me at Peeta, who eyes are locked on the forest floor.
Oh no, his family. He's probably wondering if they will survive. I suddenly feel selfish. I never thought about how he has probably struggled to deal with leaving his family behind. He would have never left Twelve if I didn't want to. Again, he's always putting me first. I stop in my tracks, allowing Prim to go ahead.
I reach out my hand, grazing Peeta's knuckles. He clasps my fingers tightly.
"I'm sorry," I whisper to him.
"Don't be. I chose not to tell them. Besides, there's still a chance that they'll be okay," he replies, his gaze still on the ground. I don't care now if Gale sees us, I remain close to Peeta, never letting go of his hand.