Okay, so I can't believe how many people have read this fanfic. I am kind of going crazy right now. Thank you to anyone who has read this fanfic.

This chapter is from a different character's point of view and I am super excited to write it because it is for one of my favorite Hunger Games characters!

Chapter 4:

Clove

"I'm proud of you," I say again to Jo. "I can't believe you made a new friend."

"Shut up!" Jo says.

In all the years I have to know Johanna, which has only been since freshman year, I have been the only friend that she has had and kept. She used to be friends with Katniss Everdeen, but that broke off when Katniss said that she went "to crazy". Katniss never liked me. I was always too crazy for her. And she, unlike Johanna, could never except when I told her that she couldn't come over to my house. She was constantly worried that I was putting up a front and that I wasn't the person that I said I was. Which was total crap. Johanna just accepted that I wasn't ready for her to come over. And once we got closer, I told her why. But Katniss was never that patient.

"Hey!" Jo's hand waved in front of my face. "What's going on in this head of yours."

"Nothing," I say.

Johanna gives me a smile. She knows me like a book.

"You want to come over to my house?" She asks.

"No, I'm alright."

"You sure?" She asks.

"Yeah."

She gives me a small smile, but there is no pity in her eyes. That is one of the best things about having Johanna as a friend. Even when everybody else pities you, she doesn't. It 's amazing. That is also part of why I don't have any other friends besides Johanna. I can't stand it when people pity me, because then no matter how much I just want to leave everything alone, most people don't. They try to make everything better, even when the can't.

As I walk home, I skirt around the major roads and buildings, trying to avoid everyone as they make their way home from school. Once I get past the richer areas, I walk back to the sidewalks. Unlike the smooth ones in front of the school, these sidewalks are badly cracked and have plants growing out of them. Not the tiny little pants of new cracks but the large plants that have grown unchecked for years. Many of the houses on either side of the street are dingy and rundown. Some are even abandoned. But this is home. Well, not exactly.

When I reach the end of the houses, and then the end of the street, I cross the road and walk into the thick forest that sits behind houses. I only walk probably twenty or thirty feet in. And there sits my home. It is probably only about twenty feet wide from above, but as I walk under the branches and leaves that make up the top covering and down the steps I open up to a large space underground.

My house is dug directly under an immense tree and stretches only as far as its roots go out, this way I will never have to worry about the dirt sliding from above my head and collapsing in on me. Just in case though, every inch of the ceiling is covered in branches and leftover cement that I got when they were repaving the roads two years ago. That was the hardest to come by. I stole a bucket or two every day for about two weeks until I had enough to give the ceiling as well as the covering a good coat. I covered the rest of the house with cement when they repaved the roads in the rich neighborhoods last year. Those were long days, coming home from school and then walking a total of nearly three miles there and back laden with heavy and quickly drying cement.

I check the battery-powered clock on the nightstand that I made when I took woodshop sophomore year. It almost 3:30. "Crap!" If I don't get moving I am going to be late. I sit my backpack on the ground next to my bed and quickly strip out of my school clothes and into a blue plaid skirt and a plain white collard shirt. I put on a pair of old navy blue high-top Converse and throw my hair up into a ponytail as I rush up the stairs and out the door. I am barely four steps out when I remember my bag, and I rush back and grab it.

I speed walk down the cracked sidewalk, cross a few roads, and almost run into a boy on a bicycle. A bell tinkle's faintly when I rush through the door of the Capitol Café. I have barely gotten the apron tied around my waist when Angela, the girl who works the shift before me, is walking back to me. As usual, she looks at me as though she has a lemon stuck in her mouth.

"They're all yours," she says flippantly, tossing her apron into the bin next to me and walking to the back. I nod to her. Before I exit to the rest of the restaurant again, I grab a pad of paper and a pen. I make sure to test the pen on the top of the paper to make sure that I don't get stuck with one that doesn't work.

I walk across the restaurant to the bar and make my way behind it. The bar isn't actually open for alcoholic drinks until 10 PM, which is when I get off, so I always get to work at it. There is a small wooden barstool in the corner that I sit my backpack next to. Once school gets rolling and I start getting a ton of homework, I'll spend any downtime on my shift sitting on the uncomfortable stool and doing my homework. I lean down to take a drink from my water bottle and just as I do the bell tinkles, signaling someone entering the café.

Three boys enter the restaurant and head straight for the bar. One of them is Finnick O'Dair, the school player and the lanky boy with brown hair is Marvel, Glimmer's twin, and Johanna's crush. Not that she'll admit it, but it is pretty obvious. The other boy is tall and strongly built. He has short blonde hair that is just long enough to stick up at random angles. His eyes are steel blue. His shirt is tight and accentuates his muscular body. He is hot. I don't know his name, but if he is hanging out with Finnick and Marvel it probably means that he is a popular jerk.

The three boys sit down at their stools and Marvel lets out a short whistle when he sees me. I roll my eyes.

"What can I get for you?" I ask, trying my best to put on a kind, sweet voice. I remember the way Annie talked when I met her earlier in the day and I try to mirror that. It doesn't really work for me.

"I'll have water and waffles please," The blonde-haired boy says. He has manners, maybe all hot, popular boys aren't hopeless after all. And then Marvel speaks.

"You can get me a Coca Cola, pancakes, and some of that arse." I resist the urge to glare at him as I always do when someone hits on me. It is easier to do as he is just a stupid teenage boy and not a pervy old man. Because that has happened on several very uncomfortable occasions.

"What about you Finnick?"

Finnick looks up from his phone with a panicked look on his face.

"Crap, did I mess around with you?" He asks. Marvel bursts out laughing but all the blonde boy does is crack a somewhat uncomfortable smile.

"Hell no," I say.

The blonde boy laughs loudly at this.

"Shut up Cato!" Finnick scoffs, elbowing the blonde boy, Cato, in the ribs.

"Sorry," I say. "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant I don't sleep around."

Cato started laughing harder and I realized that I wasn't making things any better.

"I...we..." I take a deep breath trying to regain my composure. "We go to the same school."

"Oh. Right." Finnick says though I can tell that that doesn't clear things up that much. "I'll have lemonade and a piece of pie if you've got it."

"You and your sugar," Marvel teases.

I just nod to them and go off to place their orders. I come back with a tray carrying their drinks and sit on the stool while I wait for the ring of the bell that signals that their orders are ready. The bar is the only part of the café that uses a bell because I am the only server that stays out on the floor instead of going into the kitchen. I grab the book The Art of War out of my bag and start reading it, but it is hard to concentrate on the argument that Finnick and Marvel have going on.

"The new girl is not cute!" Marvel protests.

"She so is. I mean have you seen that body?" Finnick says.

"Yeah. So she has an okay rack, that doesn't automatically make her hot."

The conversation disgusts me. The fact that boys actually talk about girls this way makes me glad that I have never had so much as a crush since middle school. Because boys are kind of pigs.

"What do you think Cato?" Marvel asks. For some reason, I feel myself holding my breath as I wait for him to answer. The bell rings. Damnit! I curse internally. But as I am walking past them to grab their food I hear Cato's answer and a small smile crosses my lips.

"I think that you guys are both idiots and kind of pigs."

By the time I am bringing back their food, the boys have moved onto a new topic. As I sit their plates down, I feel like Cato's eyes follow me. When I sit Cato's plate of waffles in front of him, he stares right into my eyes.

"Thanks," He says. I feel like his eyes are burrowing into me and I quickly glance away.

"Damn! Hello, sexual tension," Marvel says.

"Shut up guys!" Cato says. I feel my cheeks heat up and I look down.

"Have we embarrassed someone?" Finnick mocks.

"Shut up!" Cato says again.

"I'm not embarrassed," I retort and I make my way back to the stool in the corner. I take my book out and start reading again.

After a while, Finnick and Marvel get up to leave. I look at my watch. It 5:30. They've been here forever.

"You coming Cato?" Marvel asks.

"Nah, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

I continue reading my book.

"Hey." I hear Cato says. I don't look up, assuming he is talking to someone else. "Hey," He says again.

I look up. "Are you talking to me?" I ask.

"Yeah," He says. "How much longer is your shift?"

I check my watch again. It is 5:40 now. I still have like another four hours.

"I get off a ten," I say.

"At night?" He asks.

"No in the morning," I retort back and then I silently curse me infinite sarcasm. To my relief, Cato laughs.

We don't talk much after that but to my surprise, Cato stays there for my entire shift. When I finally get off, he is waiting for me.

"What are you doing?" I ask as we walk out the door.

"I'm walking you home."

I start to panic. I can't have a cute boy walk me home.

"No you aren't," I say.

"Yes, I am. I'm not letting a pretty girl as you walk home alone at this time at night."

"I'll be fine," I say.

"Please?" Cato pleads.

"No. I'm fine," I say as coldly and sharply as I can.

"Fine," Cato says reluctantly.

I rush home. As it lay in my bed, which is really only a small mound of dirt that I have covered with a lot of leaves, I can't help but think about Cato. Despite the fact that he hangs out with Marvel and Finnick, who are total jerks and pigs, Cato doesn't seem like that. He actually seems really sweet and not like a stupid popular kid. Just before I fall asleep, I think that I really hope that I run into him tomorrow at school.

I hope you guys like this chapter! I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read this story! It means a ton! Please review what you think about it!

Stay happy, healthy, and safe,

-Jewel.