Chapter 3: No Contest

"I remember everything about you," says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."

"I am now," I say.

"Well, I don't have much competition here," he says.

I want to draw away, to close the shutters again, but I know I can't. It's as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, "Say it! Say it!"

I swallow hard and get the words out. "You don't have much competition anywhere." And this time, it's me who leans in. - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games, Chapter 22

Someone's downstairs.

I look at the clock on my bedside table. It's five in the morning. Soundlessly, I get off the bed and crack the door a little. Sounds of clattering coming from downstairs. For a moment I think of Peeta, but remember that he said he was going to let me sleep in today.

Then there's Haymitch. But Haymitch won't be up this early. We're lucky if we see him earlier than 11 most days.

I grab my bow from my closet and tiptoe down the stairs.

More banging. Whoever it is, is looking for something. It's coming from the kitchen.

My bow is drawn and pointed at the kitchen, waiting for someone to appear.

"Who's there?" I call out, voice steady, hands ready.

No answer.

"Who's there?" I say again, louder this time.

A head pops up from the counter and I almost let go in surprise.

"Hello sweetheart," Haymitch says, grinning widely.

"Haymitch? I almost shot you!" I exclaim, heart racing. I carefully set my bow down and walk towards him. "What in the world are you doing here this early in the morning? Are you crazy? Are you sleepwalking? Are you drunk? Where's Peeta? Is he okay?"

Haymitch clutches his head with his hands. "Easy there, sweetheart. Too many questions so early in the morning. Geez, you're making my head hurt." He turns back to rummage through the cupboards. "Don't you have a coffee cup here?"

"Top cabinet on your left," I point.

He takes his time grabbing the cup, pouring hot water from the kettle on the stove, dumping a packet of coffee into it, and stirring the contents. He takes a whiff and sighs.

"What, no alcohol?" I say, sarcastically.

"I like the way you think, sweetheart," Haymitch winks at me. "I was trying to be considerate and not drink in front of you this early, but since you insist..." He takes a small steel bottle from his pocket and pours the entire contents into his cup. I think there's more liquor there than coffee now.

"When has that ever stopped you?" I say, arms crossed.

"Touché, my dear."

"Well?" I'm tapping my foot impatiently on the floor.

"Well what?" he says, settling himself comfortably on my couch.

"What are you doing here this early in the morning?" A thought crosses my head and I look at him in alarm. "Did something happen? How's President Paylor? Are we at war again?"

Haymitch lets out a chuckle. "No, no. None of that."

I let out a sigh of relief. Then I frown at him. "Why are you here, Haymitch? To what do I owe this wonderful visit?"

"Cesar called," he says. I'm waiting for him to continue but he doesn't. Instead he's slurping his coffee. Loudly.

"You woke me up just to tell me that? I've barely slept 5 hours!"

"Well, he woke me up," Haymitch grumbles. Then he brightens up. "Anyway, he said he was too excited about his idea that he couldn't wait."

My face darkens. "What idea?"

Haymitch puts his hands up. "No, no. Nothing like that. So apparently, they're in trouble at the Capitol. You know, people getting depressed and going crazy. They're looking for something to take their minds off everything that's happened."

"Go on."

"Some type of entertainment."

"Get to the point, Haymitch."

"So Cesar comes up with an idea. Why not do a show?"

"What kind of show?"

Haymitch hesitates before answering. Then he puts on a fake smile and says, "A dating show!" with a flourish of his hand.

"Really, Haymitch?" I roll my eyes. "I'm going back to bed."

"Wait, they want you and Peeta on it!" he shouts, and I pause on the second step.

"Me and Peeta? Peeta Mellark?"

He snorts. "Do you know any other Peeta?"

"Why?"

"Because you two are Panem's favorite teenagers, that's why." He says this as though it's obvious. Frankly it's something I've tried to forget.

"They want a show with me and Peeta dating?" My mouth is hanging open in disbelief.

"Not exactly." Haymitch stretches and then yawns. "The people of Panem sent in votes, you know, to see who should be on the pilot of the show. Guess who topped the votes?"

I let out a huff. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Hey, this is the Capitol we're talking about. You've seen more ridiculous things."

Yes, like throwing 24 kids in a ring to fight to the death.

"And how is this supposed to help anything?" I ask.

Haymitch walks to the kitchen to refill his cup. "Think of it like an auction. They're auctioning you and Peeta to the highest bidders. Winners get to go on a date with you."

"What makes him think people will give money to that?"

"They've already started. Cesar's getting calls left and right. He's really thrilled about this. Even got President Paylor to okay it. She says it might be good for morale."

I bite my lower lip, thinking hard. "They want me to go on a date with someone other than Peeta?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

The entire Panem knows about Peeta and me. Who would watch us go with anyone else?

"Beats me. Maybe they want to see how you and Peeta act around someone else," Haymitch says, his eyes trained on me knowingly. "Or maybe they know you and Peeta were just an act and want to confirm it."

Just an act. Me and Peeta.

"No," I say, firmly.

"No what?"
"I'm not doing some stupid show."

"It's only one date, sweetheart. A couple of hours, tops."

"It doesn't matter," I say. "My answer is no."

"They're going to use the money raised to rebuild the hospital, Katniss."

The hospital.

Prim. Prim would like that.

That's not fair, trying to bait me with guilt.

"Peeta's already agreed to do it," Haymitch declares.

Really? Peeta agreed to it? I look at Haymitch for any signs that he's lying, but he's casually sitting there, his feet up on my coffee table, his arms lazily crossed behind his head.

Just then Peeta walks in, carrying freshly baked cinnamon buns. His hair is tousled and I have the sudden urge to run my hand through it but I stop myself. He offers me one and I'm about to grab it when Haymitch snatches it from me.

"Speaking of the heartthrob," Haymitch takes a chunk out of the cinnamon bun.

I narrow my eyes at him but before I can say anything Peeta hands me another one.

"Careful, it's hot," he says, grinning widely as he sits down beside me. Turning to Haymitch he says, "What heartthrob?"

Haymitch has devoured his bun and is licking his fingers. "I was just telling Miss Everdeen here that you've agreed to go on Cesar's new dating show."

Peeta leans back on the chair and takes a bite out of his cinnamon bun. "Uh huh. It could be fun."

"You really agreed to this?"

He gives me a lopsided grin. "Cesar wouldn't stop calling me until I did. Plus, it's for a good cause. What do you say, Katniss?"

He turns to me and gives me the most adorable smile. One that most people would find irresistible.

But not me. Oh no, not Katniss Everdeen.

I did not survive a revolution only to be charmed by the likes of Peeta Mellark.

I did not...

"Katniss?"

"If it's for a good cause," I say.

...

"Who are we supposed to go on dates with?" I ask.

"The votes are still going in so we won't know until tomorrow night," Haymitch answers.

I still can't believe Peeta agreed to this.

"What do we have to do?"

"Well, you go have a nice, lovely time with whoever you're on a date with, then you say bye and you never see them again. Sounds peachy, right?" Haymitch grins.

I look out the window where Peeta is tending my garden. The flowers are in full bloom, nourished and cared for by Peeta's green thumbs.

A date. I never had time to think about such things before. I don't know if anything Peeta and I did at the games counted as dates. It's hard to think about dating when you're being chased by things that are trying to kill you.

The next day we watch as the two winners are announced.

For Peeta, a girl from District 2 who is tall, blonde, and bubbly. She smiles at the camera and waves to the crowd, and she looks genuinely excited to have won.

"She looks like…" I begin, and Haymitch nods.

"She is," he confirms.

No, no.

Cato's sister.

Overwhelming fear washes over me, and my eyes dart around in search of my bow, even though Cato's sister is nowhere near me. She'll be near Peeta, though.

I have to protect him.

"Easy, Katniss," Haymitch chastises. "She's not Cato."

No, but she's close enough.

…

I don't even pay attention to who the other winner was. Some tall, apparently adorable boy from the Capitol, based on how much Cesar is showering him with praise.

"He seems nice. Excited to meet you, at least," Haymitch says, as I'm out in the yard practicing, turning the small makeshift target pinned to the fence as a pincushion. "Katniss, what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

I can't lose focus. I've been out of practice for too long.

"You're not planning on shooting Ever with an arrow, are you?" Haymitch asks.

"Don't be ridiculous," I say. It's not Ever, I'm after. It's Chia, Peeta's date. But he doesn't have to know that.

"You know you're going to be televised live, right?"

A minor inconvenience.

Haymitch throws his hand up in the air and leaves, finally fed up with my lack of conversation skills.

If I hadn't said yes it would only be Peeta going there, with no one to protect him.

Now I'm glad I agreed to do this.

…

We arrive at the old training center and are greeted by hundreds of people, cheering, throwing petals of flowers in the air. It feels surreal. The last time we were here they were cheering us to die. Now, they're cheering for us to go on some meaningless night out.

"You okay?" Peeta squeezes my hand as we enter the building. Haymitch staggers behind us, exaggeratingly waving at the crowd.

"Katniss! Peeta!"

We turn around to see Effie, her hair an eclectic blue, elaborately styled at the top. Her long, fake lashes are also blue to match her lips. Everything about her is radiatingly blue. She squeezes us into her arms, smiling and chattering wildly, thanking us for participating. She sends us off to our rooms with a gentle shove.

My room is spacious and is reminiscent of my old room, except instead of the twelfth floor I'm now on the seventh. I'm assuming this is where they get us camera ready again.

The door opens and three people as ridiculously dressed as Effie walk in. They're hauling in racks of clothes, carrying containers full of what I can only guess is makeup. They tell me their names but my mind is too busy worrying about Peeta to remember.

I wonder where Peeta is and how he's doing?

We're not supposed to meet our 'dates' yet. The big meetup is scheduled to be live on air in a couple of hours. Then we're supposed to go somewhere for our 'date'.

When it's time, they usher me to a room where we're supposed to wait. I'm not wearing a ridiculously frilly dress this time, but I am wearing a dress. In the room is another girl, nervously strumming her fingers on the table. She looks up as I enter, and our eyes meet.

It's Chia, Cato's sister.

Instantly I look around the room for something to defend myself with, anything. I set my eyes on a huge crystal vase in the corner, inching closer to it while keeping my eyes on her.

She recognizes me instantly and stands up, brushing her long, frilly dress before she walks towards me.

"Katniss!" she says, brightly. "It's so good to finally meet you. I'm Chia."

My hand is on the vase now, ready to attack at the first signs of aggression.

Her greeting takes me by surprise though, and I'm at a loss for what to say. Somehow, I don't think starting with "I'm sorry I shot your brother" would be right.

She really does look like the female version of Cato, only slightly smaller. She looks at me shyly, her hands restless at her sides.

"Congratulations," is all I manage to blurt out.

"Thank you," she says, sweetly. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Huh?" I loosen my grip on the vase.

"Me going with Peeta."

"Oh, that," Visibly I relax, but keep the vase at reaching distance.

"I just want to meet him, maybe talk to him," she says, wistfully. "Is that okay?"

As long as it doesn't involve killing him, I suppose.

"What's he like?" she asks.

"He's…" I pause. "…sweet. He's kind. And strong. And he makes the best cheese buns."

She giggles at this. "He bakes?"

"He does. Best baker in District 12."

Wait a minute, I'm getting too comfortable with Cato the second, which isn't good because I've only known her for a few minutes. For all I know she's trying to get ideas on how to kill Peeta. Maybe get him to bake and then shove him in the oven. I think I heard that in a story somewhere.

I'll keep an eye out for ovens on this date. You can never be too careful.

The door opens and a head pokes in. He's got something in his ear, and he's listening to something, orders perhaps.

"You're up, girls. Good luck," he says.

…

The stage is bright and there are four chairs beside Cesar. Peeta and Ever are already seated. They stand up when we arrive.

"And here we are, the lovely ladies Katniss and Chia!" Cesar's booming voice announces to the cheers of the crowd.

I'm directed to sit beside Ever, while Chia sits beside Peeta. My eyes are scanning the stage for anything I can use as a weapon, something to defend Peeta with if I have to.

Cesar goes on and on about the night's activities, about how thankful he is we agreed to go on the pilot, about how much money this has raised so far.

Then it's time for us to leave.

"Peeta and Chia, if you'd like to go on the first car, Katniss and Ever will go on the second."

Wait, what?

"We're not going together?" I blurt out, which is the first time I've really spoken since we got on the stage.

"Of course not!" Cesar laughs.

But…

I look back longingly as Peeta holds the door open for Chia. Our eyes meet as he gets in the car.

It will be okay, his eyes seem to say.

I'm escorted into a car where Ever is holding the door for me.

"After you," he says, smiling widely. He gets in and sits beside me. He's wringing his hands and I can tell he wants to say something.

I never actually paid attention to him until now. His hair is light-brown and deep dimples appear on his cheeks when he smiles. His eyes are grayish-blue, and he looks normal for someone from the Capitol. No cat pupils or orange skin.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Katniss," he says, extending a hand.

I shake it hesitantly, and whether he noticed or not he didn't show.

He makes small talk during the ride, pointing out some buildings that he's been in, telling me some of the restoration efforts going on, the things they decided to do without.

The car stops by a building I've never seen before. It's got a dome shaped roof and marble columns dot the entrance. I bet this building cost a fortune to build. It's a good thing it wasn't damaged during the war.

We sit down to a luxurious dinner where the table is laden out with dishes I never even knew existed. There's so much food for just the two of us it's ridiculous. A drone flies around, streaming us live for everyone to see.

Ever offers me several dishes, naming each one. It must be nice to have grown up in the Capitol, not worrying about starving to death.

He doesn't talk as much during dinner, his eyes darting to the drone buzzing around us. I barely eat, afraid my stomach won't take kindly to all this fancy food. After dinner we take a walk in the adjacent garden, but all the trees remind me of the arena so there's a knot in my stomach. I half expect someone to jump out of one of the trees yielding a knife.

"Are you okay?" Ever asks, his brow furrowed.

"Yes," I force a smile.

"I never liked the games," he says, out of the blue.

"Huh?"

He looks at me and gives a sad smile. "I never liked the games. My family would watch it but I thought it wasn't right. Made me sick to my stomach. The year that you won, that game was the only one I watched. I was cheering for you the whole time."

What do you say to that?

"Thanks," I manage to say.

"Not everyone in the Capitol approved of it," he continues. He stops walking and turns to face me. "I hope you know that."

I did know that.

Maybe Ever isn't so bad. I notice the drone is farther away. Maybe they can't hear us? Is that why he's talking more now?

"And don't worry, I don't think Chia will do anything to hurt Peeta," he adds with a wink.

Warmth seeps into my cheeks and I turn away so he doesn't see how red I am.

We spend the rest of the date just talking, cameras following us from a distance. I try to smile as much as I can. I guess he must have spent a small fortune to get here and I realize maybe I haven't been the best company. We try to avoid talking about the games but talk about our families and friends instead. I hardly see my mother so I end up talking about Haymitch and Peeta a lot. I avoid talking about Prim, the wounds still too raw for me to delve in. He talks about his family, his brother and sister, growing up under President Snow, the rules they had to follow.

"I thank you for this wonderful evening," he says, as he's dropping me back at the old training center.

The drones are closer to us this time, their lenses focused on our faces.

No one told me what to do on this date, so I'm hoping I don't have to kiss him for more money or something.

Instead I give him the brightest smile I could muster. "I had a nice time," I say. He smiles sheepishly and then turns away.

"Ever," I call out and he stops in his tracks. "Thank you," I say, and mean it.

Peeta and Chia's car arrives, and Peeta gets out first, waiting for Chia to follow. They exchange greetings that I can't quite hear, and Chia gives Peeta a hug before she leaves.

The drones fly off when Peeta and I are alone, and he takes my hand as we head inside the building.

…

"Did you enjoy your date?" I ask Peeta. We're on the rooftop of the building, just the two of us. It's late at night, and neither of us want to sleep yet. The streets are quiet, but the moon is full, the sky clear and hundreds of stars dot the night.

He follows my gaze and looks up. "It was okay. Chia was nice. You?"

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," I say. "Ever did not try to kill me once."

Peeta unexpectedly laughs. "When I saw you looking at Chia I thought you were going to shoot her."

"I thought about it, but they wouldn't let me bring my bow," I say, smiling.

There's something I've bee wanting to ask him.

"Peeta?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you agree to go on the show?"

"Oh that," he says. "To be honest when Cesar told me I thought he meant you and I would go on a date together."

"Oh."

I look away, trying to hide the smile that's threatening to jump out of my lips.

We go silent for a few seconds, just enjoying the stillness of it all.

"Katniss?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you describe as a perfect date?"

I look at him, but he's avoiding my eyes. He's still looking at the sky.

I shrug. "I don't really know. But I don't think it was what I did today." I tilt my head. "You?"

His face lights up and he meets my gaze. "Something spontaneous. Like a rooftop picnic. Where we eat and lie in the sun all day, playing games. You practicing knots and weaving nets while I sketch you. And then, by the end of the day, your head's on my lap while I play with your hair."

My mouth drops open. Everything he said…

He remembers. Every single thing we did that day. The night before the Victor's Games. Our impromptu rooftop picnic.

His definition of a perfect date.

"Peeta, I..."

He looks away, a sad expression on his face. "Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to remind you of the games."

An idea creeps into my head.

"Let's do it," I say.

"Do what?"

"Your perfect date. Let's go and get food and have a picnic right here."

"Really?"

We both run downstairs like little kids, taking whatever food we can find in our room. When I get back to the rooftop, Peeta is laying out a blanket and arranging his find in the middle.

"I found some meat and cheese," he says, grinning.

"Pastries and fruit," I hold them up proudly. "Oh, and I found a bottle in the fridge. I think it's fancy water."

"Fancy water?"

"It's in one of those fancy bottles I see everyone drinking from." I add it to our pile, along with a couple of cups.

He opens the bottle and pours out bubbly liquid into our cups. We raise our cups and toast.

"To rooftop picnics," I say, and take a gulp. It's sweet, but there's a slight bitter taste in it, too.

We eat. We drink. Peeta points out fancy pastries I'll never remember the names of but they all taste delicious.

"This one's filled with chocolate," he says, handing me a soft, spongy one.

"No, you take it. I've had enough chocolate."

We play a game of hide and seek, which is ridiculous considering the roof isn't very big and it takes us about ten seconds to find each other.

Peeta tries to sketch me, but it's too dark so I show him how to weave. We talk about a lot of things, avoiding anything or anyone related to the Games, with the exception of Haymitch and Effie.

"Those two would make a good couple, don't you think?" he says.

"If Effie doesn't smother him in his sleep," I reason.

I lie with my head on Peeta's lap, and he's stroking my hair absentmindedly, humming a quiet tune to himself.

I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but I wake up to Peeta gently nudging my shoulder. I'm wrapped in the blanket, in his arms, and he's looking up at the sky.

It's dawn, and the sun is a bright orange ball casting warmth onto the city below it.

He's smiling warmly. "I didn't want you to miss it."

"Thanks," I say. Sunsets are beautiful but sunrises, the sign of a new day, have become my favorite.

He pauses suddenly, and a memory jolts into my mind. I sit up, knowing what to expect.

But before he says it, before he can open his mouth, I say it first. Word for word.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it for ever," I whisper. I am not the type to spew out romantic lines, or be all sappy, but I'm feeling really good right now. Maybe it's because I had a good night's sleep, and the sunrise is beautiful, and no one has tried to kill Peeta and I even though we're back in the Capitol. Maybe for the first time, I'm finally able to relax.

His eyes widen and he's speechless for a few seconds. "You remember," he whispers.

"I remember," I nod. The very words he said that night.

And then he leans in, slowly, surely, and I close my eyes as his lips meet mine.

….

Author's Note: Hello reader! I hope you're doing well, wherever you are. I didn't have a lot of time to edit this, but wanted to put it out for your reading pleasure before the long weekend. I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments are very much appreciated!

Take care and stay safe!

~cutestuff024~