After Jo revealing that most of what I say, in terms of riding can be taken as a double entendre, I'm very cautious of what I say to Peeta now. I feel like I should apologize to him, but I don't know how I would do that without embarrassing myself further. So I keep quiet.
Pony camps have begun and, as of yet, thankfully no falls or stepped on little toes. Peeta is wonderful with the kids and their parents alike. He seems to placate the parents when they get into the "I know your job better than you" mode and makes them see that not all kids are a natural to horsemanship.
I love my job teaching the children, especially the ones who share my passion for horses. They are the ones who truly want to be there and learn rather than being forced to go here because it's a cheap(ish) summer camp to send the kids somewhere. By the beginning of the second week with the first group I have the kids playing lots of games involving the horses.
Peeta's lessons have had to stop as all of us become accustomed to the summer life on the yard. It entails of muck out (8-9.30), pony camp (10-3) and then livery and private lessons the rest of the evening. By the time lessons are finished it's time to settle the horses in for the night.
Annie still rides though, as some of the owners who can't get out to exercise their horses as often as they like demand a competent rider rides the horse.
One night in particular, I've given Peeta the evening off as there wasn't much left to do and he might want to go visit his family. He seemed dejected at the offer, but still went off.
After her lesson, Annie and I go for a hack through the woods.
"You seem very frosty towards Peeta lately, what happened?" she enquires as we walk leisurely.
"Nothing, why would you ask?" I knit my eyebrows as I try to think of me being 'frosty' to Peeta.
"Well, when I first arrived you seemed just as smitten with him as he is with you. Now it's like he killed your dog the way you act around him."
"He is not smitten about me. He's like that with everyone," I protest.
We walk into a meadow and dismount to let the horses graze for a bit. Sinking down onto the grass, I sigh.
"You haven't exactly denied that you're smitten with him," Annie prods.
"Well back when we were in school, I had a huge crush on him. He was Mister Popular, the typical high school heart-throb. Every girl in our school had a crush on him," I try to explain. "When we were in a tough time, Peeta stood up for Prim against some bullies."
I start picking some dandelions and blowing the seeds, watching them dance around in the light summer breeze.
"But that was back then. I don't see him that way anymore. I never thanked him for helping Prim, and I guess I feel guilty about it. Plus, Johanna pointed out that the majority of what I say can be misconstrued into a sexual meaning."
Annie giggles at this.
"Yeah, it can, but anyone who knows you, knows you don't mean it that way. Leave it to Jo to point it out to you," she smiles. "But Peeta is smitten with you. I've seen the way he looks at you and watches you when your back is turned. He likes you. But if you really don't like him then let him know."
The rest of the conversation is mainly horse talk as we walk back to the yard. Once back there we just go through the motions as we close up the yard and all go our separate ways.
Sundays are the easy day for all of us. There's next to no lessons, usually only our own horses, so it's normally just muck out and a rest day for the other horses and the help like Peeta, Annie and Jo. They still come to help us muck out and feed but after that they are free to do as they wish.
Peeta normally disappears off, probably to his family, Annie goes on a walk by herself in the woods and God knows what Jo gets up to.
The following Sunday is no different. After the horses are taken care of, I ask Gale for some help schooling Mockingjay. After the lesson, Gale surprises me by asking me a question.
"You still like Mellark, right?" he asks
I nearly fall off Jay with the shock.
"Excuse me?" I snort incredulously.
"You still like Mellark, right?" he repeats. "I've known you liked him for years, Catnip, so don't try to lie to me. If you like him, then why aren't you doing something about it rather than treating him the way you are."
Dismounting Jay, I walk up to Gale and glare up at him.
"Treating him like what?" I challenge.
"Treating him like he's an inconvenience. If you do like him, go for it."
"I can't believe you're doing this," I snap at him and storm off back into the stables.
"Catnip! Wait!" Gale shouts after me and tries to catch up.
"Don't, Gale!" I snarl. "Do your job and put the jumps away."
Gale turns away with slumped shoulders and does as I told him. But he doesn't leave me alone. As I'm turning Jay out into the bachelor paddock he comes up behind me.
"Catnip," Gale starts gently. "What is going on with you?"
Sighing I lean against the fence and Gale comes closer to lean beside me. I can't look at him so I just gaze out into the field and pretend I'm talking to the horses.
"Yes, I still like Peeta. But Jo pointed out that the majority of things I say can be translated into something dirty. Which has made me doubt everything I've ever said to him. And now I just don't know how to talk to him."
This all comes out in a rush, almost one breath and Gale is silent for a minute while I get my breath back and try to calm my racing anxiety.
"Fucking Jo. I'm gonna kill her," he grumbles under his breath. "First, Katniss, yes most of what is said regarding horse riding can be seen as dirty to those with filthy minds, exactly like Johanna's. Second, Peeta likes you. He has for years, and it seems to have only intensified since he came here. Stop doubting yourself and give it a chance. All this could be is a summer fling before college. Or it could end up being something else, something serious. I can't guarantee you won't ever end up like your mother, but you will never know unless you give it a chance. Give him a chance. And if you don't, you might end up regretting it until your dying day."
After saying his piece, Gale turns and leaves me to my thoughts. I start to find this place stifling, I need to get out of here.
Running to the tack room, I grab Brambles bridle, deciding to forgo the saddle.
Within about 3 minutes I'm on Bramble galloping out of here, with one thought in mind.
I need air.
Once we arrive at my Dad's cabin, I feel the vice that had gripped my chest lessen. I can breathe again.
I lie down in the field, inhaling the smell of the grass, the earth, and life. It helps keep me grounded.
Once the wave of anxiety has calmed, I sit back up and stare out over the woods. Dad's hidden cabin is up on a low cliff and gives you a stunning view out over the forest. I come up here some days just to think or to get away from the world.
Gale's words about me not becoming my mom come back to me. I can remember how she crumbled when the police officer knocked on our door. I remember the empty look in her eyes the months following.
I'm also brought back to remember the times I had with my dad here. When he taught me how to sing from deep within my chest and how, when he sang, it was like the whole forest, including the birds, stopped to hear him sing. The times he would bring me here for picnics in the summer sun. The time he taught me to fish and hunt with a bow.
How after a bad storm one Fall, he brought me out and showed me all the new, natural cross country jumps of fallen trees. And how he kissed my knee better when my pony refused to jump one.
I don't know how long I've been here, but by the time I can see clearly through my eyes the sun is setting. It's a stunning view, from the orange just above the sun bleeding into pinks, reds, then indigo before finally turning navy into the night sky. I sit there watching and listening as some the creatures settle in for the night and how some are only just rising with the return of night.
I'm lucky Bramble knows her way home in the dark, otherwise I'd be lost.
As I dismount after shutting the last gates from the hacking trails, Peeta is exiting the stables.
Once I walk closer, his features turn concerned. I realise he knows I've been crying.
"Katniss, what's wrong?" he rushes up to me, reaching out his arm as if to pull me to him then deciding to drop them.
"Nothing, I'm fine," I try to brush him off.
"No, you're not fine. You've obviously been crying. Did you fall out on your hack? Are you hurt?"
Peeta's genuine concern for me is a little startling. I didn't think he really cared about me.
"Peeta, really, I'm okay. I was just—," I cut myself off. Should I really tell him why I was crying? He doesn't know me. Do I want to let him in?
Gale's words come back to haunt me: "You'll never know unless you give it a chance."
Closing the stall door, I sigh and turn to face him. Only to see him walking away from me.
"I was just…" I start again. He turns back around to face me. "I was just out in the woods watching the sunset over the forest and got thinking about my dad," I tell him unable to look him in the eye. "I just got a little upset is all."
"Oh," he replies. "I understand."
The tension rises as I feel stupid for telling him that and he obviously feels awkward not knowing what to say.
"I've never seen a proper sunset," he muses, probably trying to ease the tension. All the same I'm a little taken aback by the comment.
"Really?" I ask.
"Yeah, really. I mean, I've seen them over the shops and houses in town, but never over woods or anything. There always seems to be something man made in the way whenever I see one." He seems saddened by this.
Again Gale comes back to me, "Give him a chance."
Taking a deep breath and swallowing my anxiety I decide to act on something before I overthink it.
"I can bring you out to my father's cabin if you like? It sits on a cliff with a great view of the forest and the sunsets are amazing out there. I've never taken anyone, but I don't mind," I say in a rush.
Peeta looks stunned. His blue eyes, as blue as the water on the lake on a summer's day, are wide and staring at me. Almost like he is staring straight into my soul.
"Are you sure? If you've never brought anyone out there, I wouldn't want to intrude on your personal place. Especially if it holds so many memories for you with your dad," he responds hesitantly.
Nodding, I shyly look up at him and reassure him.
"Yes, it's fine," is all I can manage to say.
The smile that blooms across Peeta's features is as bright as the sun.
"Okay then, I'd really like that. Thank you, Katniss, for inviting me," he utters cheerfully.
We've locked up the yard for the night and are walking back across to the old barn and my house beyond when he speaks again. "I'm glad you weren't crying for the reason I thought," he mummers.
I raise an eyebrow in an invite to continue.
"I thought Gale said something to upset you. When I came back I saw you and him, leaning up against the fence deep in conversation, and then he just walked off and you ran off. I thought he broke your heart or something."
I chuckle, and Peeta looks at me wounded. The look only causes me to break out into fits of laughter. The lines on his face smooth out for some reason, and he demands to know why I'm laughing.
"You thought Gale and I were together?" He nods. "No, we're not together, oh God no, I'd never go there. Gale is more like a brother to me than a boyfriend. He wanted to be my boyfriend, though, but I could never."
Peeta joins me in my laughter hesitantly. Once I've calmed down, for some reason, I continue talking.
"I think Gale only thought it would be convenient because he spent so much time with me. Nobody has ever looked at me like that really. Besides Darius but, again, that was like with Gale, he was my friend and it was convenient. I mean, look at me. I'm not that special, and there's a lot of girls prettier than me in this town," I grumble, trying not to sound dejected. I cough to get the lump out of my throat.
I realise we're closer to my house than the barn, and turn around to face him. He is looking at me like I've said the worst thing in the world.
"You really have no idea, do you? The effect you have?" he asks disbelievingly.
He might as well have been speaking Swahili, for all the understanding I have of what he just said. At my perplexed look, he smiles sadly.
"Goodnight, Katniss," he utters before turning around and jogging to the old barn.
What just happened???
A/N Thanks to anyone still with me on this little journey! Comments are welcomed with open arms! Sorry on the lack of posting my grandmother isn't well and is thankfully on the mend now! Major thanks to Javistg for being beta and to Savvylark for helping me out when I'm a little stuck and bouncing around ideas with me! Find me on Tumblr if you wish, I go by the same name LynamLoVesEverlark. Until next time!