It had been several minutes before Marvel finally left the front porch, taking off in his silver soft-top automobile. Cato races back upstairs to explain to Peeta his absence when he notices the younger blonde has already packed his things, sitting on the bed and playing with a loose thread in the knee of his jeans, waiting for him. Unsure what to do, he rubs the side of his neck before apologizing. "Sorry about that. It was my best friend, Marvel. He's being a little bitch."
Peeta chews on his bottom lip, hands tucked under his legs. "Oh. That's okay."
"Why are you packing up already?" Cato bobs his head towards the black and blue backpack. He wasn't already planning to go home, was he? They were just starting to warm up to one another…
"I just thought… um, if you have plans already, maybe I should go." It's not so much a question as it is a statement. Peeta doesn't feel right being here anymore. Cato was attractive, but Peeta just could not go through another life like he had before. His family moved here so that they could put it all behind them, and he was still trying to mend the pieces of the destruction it had caused back together again. There was too much at stake here.
Cato isn't willing to let him go that easily. If he left now, he probably wouldn't get another chance like this again for a long time. "I don't have other plans, so you really have no reason to go. C'mon, I'll take you home after we finish this thing."
"I… I don't think I should stay." Peeta says honestly. Going home would definitely be his best option right now. He just didn't know Cato well enough for any of this to be happening. And he really needed to collect his thoughts.
This left a couple of options, but Cato knows what his best choice is. After all, he was much better at the game. "I see what's going on now. Kinda wish I had seen it coming."
Utterly confused, Peeta stares at Cato with a look of perplexity, trying to decipher his thoughts. What is it that he thinks is going on? What should he have seen? "What, um… what do you- I don't understand."
"Gale." He says simply.
Peeta is just completely at a loss. His eyebrows knot in attentiveness, blue eyes boring into Cato's. "What about Gale?"
"Don't worry, Peeta. I'm not going to tell anyone about your relationship. Not my style." The look on his face is so sincere, genuine, and filled with concern. If he was pretending to care, he was doing an extremely fantastic job. It puts Peeta is a state of panic. Why would he think they were together? Would he really keep it a secret? Why did he suspect Peeta was even gay? Could he be trusted?
"We're not together!" Peeta suddenly shouts; eyes wide and mouth agape.
"Oh," Cato says, looking at the ground, brows furrowed. He looks back up at Peeta, sucking in his bottom lip, and takes a seat on the bed next to him, staring at his hands. "I'm sorry. I just assumed what with you guys hanging out and all. But it's good news. I'd hate myself if he got the opportunity to hurt you. And, besides," he looks back up at Peeta, "it would have killed my chances of being able to…"
"Able to what?" Peeta asks innocently. Sometimes he could be clueless, even when Cato's face is coming closer and closer to his own, until finally, their lips meet in a very gentle touch.
"Kiss you." Cato finishes in a whisper. He caresses his fingertips against Peeta's smooth cheek, already red and hot with tension. He knew Peeta would feel like this, warm and soft. He presses their lips together again, this time with more force, nibbling on the smaller boy's bottom lip until he starts to kiss back. Testing his boundaries, Cato takes the opportunity to explore Peeta's body, his fingers tracing down Peeta's cheek to his neck, down his chest, underneath his white t-shirt, stroking small circles on his stomach, making him squirm. Cato smirks beneath the kiss, realizing how ticklish Peeta is. He twirls his pointer finger around Peeta's belly button, making him whimper, body shuddering from the contact. It's deliciously adorable.
He still wants more.
A cell phone rings, infuriating Cato to no end. If that was Marvel, he was going to have to bury a body bag pretty soon. But the ringtone isn't familiar. Peeta picks up the cell phone, accepting the call. "Hello...? Hey… Oh, yeah. Sorry about that… Thanks. I'm on my way… Okay. Bye." He hangs up the phone, shoving it back into his pocket, looking back up at Cato. "That was my brother. Can, um… can you take me home?"
"Yeah, of course." It didn't matter if he took him home now or later, his plan had already been set in motion. There was no way Peeta wouldn't think about what had just happened. Cato would be branded into his mind for a very long time now.
"Thanks." Peeta rubs his neck awkwardly, picks up his backpack and waits for Cato, who casually walks over to his dresser and grabs his car keys.
"No problem," he says, shrugging his shoulders. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Peeta is following him before they leave the room, trotting down the stairs and back to the garage. They let themselves in the sports car without a word, the tension thick and heavy. Cato puts on a pair of sunglasses he had stashed in the glove compartment and turns the key in the vehicle, making the car roar to life. He places his right arm on the top of Peeta's seat, making him slightly nervous until he sees Cato looking over his shoulder to back the car out.
The drive starts off fast as it had on their way to the house, but Cato notices Peeta's hand has clutched onto the door handle; he's terrified. Cato slows down to the speed limit, watching Peeta let out a silent sigh of relief from the corner of his eye. "So my friend's girlfriend is having a party this weekend for her birthday. It's gonna be pretty crazy. You should come." He says unexpectedly.
"Really? Um, that sounds cool. But won't it be weird? I don't know your friends." Peeta is glad he hadn't said anything about the kiss, but this also caught him off guard. For all he knew, this could be some sort of trap.
"Would you like to meet them? I'll introduce you tomorrow. You can sit with us at lunch." Cato offers, watching the road in front of him.
"Maybe," Peeta answers. He's not sure if it's the best idea. He should call Katniss when he makes it home to try to find out what he can about Cato. He could trust her, right? "I already promised Katniss I'd hang out with her at lunch."
Which one was Katniss again? Katniss, Katniss… oh right, she was Gale's best friend, the one with the dark hair. Gale. How the name just made you want to grind your teeth. "It's cool, maybe during class then."
That seemed reasonable enough. "Okay. That sounds good. Thanks."
"Yeah, no problem." There's a calming pause. "Peeta, I know this isn't any of my business. I don't know Katniss or her friends very well, but…do me a favor and watch your back with Gale."
Before he could stop himself, he asks "What's wrong with Gale?"
Cato takes off his sunglasses, looking at Peeta then back at the road. This was a difficult situation to explain, and one he wouldn't share everything about to Peeta. It could ruin his family's name. There was already gossip about his aunt whom had been arrested for shooting her foster child a couple years ago. She only served for a couple months when the court dropped the charges of "attempted murder" when she and the rest of the family explained that the teenager had snuck out and back into the house, making them believe he was a burglar. It was an accident, they said. But, of course, there were other conspiracy theories, and he really didn't need any more rumors tossed his way. "We used to be friends. I trusted him and he tore my family apart. He isn't what you think he is. Whatever you do, don't trust him. He's a liar and he hurts people, Peeta."
There's obviously so much more to the story, but Peeta doesn't push the matter any further. They reach the bakery in silence, pulling up to the curb to let Peeta out.
He gives Cato a warm smile. "Thanks for the ride."
"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow?" The look on his face is absolutely endearing, the blue eyes wide in question, lips ever so slightly pouted like a child.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Cato." Peeta waves at the taller blonde, earning a delectable smile in return. Cato stays put until Peeta has successfully let himself inside the building, then takes off at his usual fast pace towards the freeway.
Exhilarated, that's how Peeta feels right now. There's a certain excitement that makes his heart race faster and faster, but he's unsure if it's because he's happy or scared. Perhaps it was both. He walks upstairs to see his mother is already in the living room, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for him. He looks around to see if his brother and father are nearby to find the place otherwise empty. This wasn't going to be good, he knew it.
"Who was that?" She demands. Like a whimpering puppy dog whom just been caught peeing on the carpet, Peeta bows his head down, peeking up at her with wide blue eyes.
"He's a classmate. We were studying for our quantum mechanics class." He answers honestly. Telling her about the kiss would definitely be a bad idea; he decides to leave that part out.
"Oh, he's just a 'classmate.' And does this 'classmate' of yours have a name?" The look on her face is one of pure hatred. She was always suspicious of Peeta's friends now. She couldn't handle another situation like at his last school. It wasn't that she hated her son. On the contrary, she cared a great deal of him. She just didn't want to see him get hurt and she didn't understand why he was the way he is.
"His name is Cato." Peeta bites on his bottom lip, unsure what else to say.
"Cato. He's a good looking kid. Tall, blonde, nice body… Peeta, I wasn't born yesterday. I know you're not telling me everything. Damn it, Peeta! Haven't you learned your lesson already? We moved here to get away from that mess at your last school and you jump back into it the first chance you get? Are you stupid? We can't do this again!" She's suddenly in hysterics. She couldn't do this again. She can't do this again! She paces to the kitchen, away from Peeta.
He follows her, trying to calm her down. "Mom, I didn't tell him. I haven't told anyone."
She's screaming now. "I can't help you if you keep putting yourself in this trouble! I'm tired, Peeta. Your father is tired. Your brother is tired. Don't you see it? Tell me you don't find him attractive."
"I… I… um, I-I don't…" The blubbering mess gives him away. Peeta was never a good liar; it went against his very nature. Knowing the truth, his mother finally explodes. She grabs a tea cup from the counter and throws it near Peeta's direction. She hadn't meant to throw it so close to him, she was just very upset. It smashes against the refrigerator with a loud crash, scaring her son.
Picking up the pieces of the broken dishes, Hazelle Hawthorne doesn't know what to do anymore. She hadn't meant to upset Gale, but the tension had been building up for years now, it was eventually going to happen like this, or worse. She's worried, unsure where he had taken off to, but she stays strong for her younger children. Gale was setting a bad example, but she had to make sure they knew what he did wasn't right. Rory is immediately at her side, helping her pick up the broken glass from the floor. For being only twelve years old, he was too mature for his age, growing up too quickly. She stops him, holding onto his hands and looking into his eyes. "Your brother is just upset. He doesn't mean to be like this. I want you boys to know that I love you all very much. And you need to understand, what happened to your father isn't anyone's fault. But he's gone now, and David makes me happy. He's not here to replace your father. You know that right?"
Rory nods his head. He was seven when his father had died, but it felt much longer than just five years ago. He'd accepted his father's death a long time ago. It was Gale who couldn't let go; he was thirteen when the accident happened, and he still blamed himself for it. Seeing his mother and her new love interest infuriated him. The man had no business trying to step into their lives. Did his mother feel anything for his father anymore? How was she able to just be with another man? It was an insult to his death.
Gale took off in his jeep to get away from his family for the night. He didn't want the company of his friends either. He just wanted to be alone, miserable with himself. It was his fault this all had happened anyway. If he hadn't told his father what had happened to him when he was at his friend's place, he'd still be alive. He should have been more of a man. He shouldn't have let it happen in the first place. He was a sorry excuse of a man, a sorry excuse of a son. He drives deep into the downtown, looking for a place where he could swallow himself in his misery uninterrupted. He finds the place, a bar with a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. He's heard of this place a couple times before. It was one of the only bars that never carded the teenagers. They'd never been shut down though because the area was incredibly sketchy and dangerous. Not a whole lot of kids came here.
Parking the jeep in lot on the side of the bar, Gale takes a quick look at the building. It's a decent size, already pretty crowded with all sorts on vermin, dark, and almost gloomy. Not really caring about the possible dangers of the area, he steps into the bar, a cool air relaxing him. The bar itself doesn't look so bad inside; it's dim with red and violet lights, the walls are painted crimson, reflecting the lights into a beautiful, soft hue. He takes a seat on one of the black stools at the bar, waiting for one of the bartenders to come his way. There are two of them, one in his forties, the back of his head already balding, with thin brown hair surrounding the crown. He's wearing a black t-shirt and black pants, a rag sticking out of his pocket. The other bartender is much younger, possibly too young to be working at the bar. He's wearing jeans and a black tank top, a rag hanging out from his rear jean pocket. He recognizes the young bartender instantly- it was the new kid that had beaten up Cato and Marvel at lunch.
"You know each other?" the older bartender asks. He'd noticed Gale staring at Myka for some time now. Gale shakes his head.
"Not really." He answers simply. Keeping the 'don't ask, don't tell' rule in his head, he doesn't say anything more regarding the matter. The older bartender just nods his head, understanding what Gale wasn't saying.
"What will you have?" he asks.
"Jack and coke," Gale says. The bartender sets a small glass on the counter, carelessly pouring the contents into the glass, a more heavy hand with the whiskey. Gale nods his head in thanks, tossing the bills of money on the counter, lifting his hand up to let the bartender know he didn't require any change. The bartender goes back to serving other customers at the bar.
Watching Myka from the corner of his eye, he watches the tall, pale adolescent smiling at a group of girls trying to flirt with him. It was obvious he was being friendly, but wasn't interested in any of their advances. One of the girls, a cute blonde girl in a low-cut red top is whispering in his ear. They look in Gale's direction, smiling and conversing. Gale finds himself wondering what the hell they're saying about him, but pretends not to notice them. A couple minutes pass and the young bartender approaches him. He drops another jack and coke in front of Gale, who looks up at him with a look of confusion. "The blonde at the end of the bar asked me to give you another," he explains.
"Do me a favor, tell her I said thank you but I'm not interested. I'll pay for the drink." Gale says simply. Sure, the girl was cute. He could probably use a good lay too, but his sour attitude and pissed off demeanor prevents him from any sort of release. He wants to be left the hell alone. Myka disappears back to the other side of the bar, delivering the message. The girl frowns in disappointment, but doesn't look angry at the rejection. Gale downs his drink, wanting to forget why he even came here.
"I told her you were already seeing someone." Gale looks up to see the young bartender has returned, grabbing a tall beer mug. He skillfully pours an assortment of liquids in it; 7-up and pineapple juice, followed by rum and southern comfort. Then he pours a clear liquid in the drink with a heavier hand than required, and pushes the mug towards Gale. He obviously doesn't recognize him. But then, how would he? "You look like you could use something a little stronger."
"What is it?" he asks, sniffing the drink. Whatever it was, it was strong.
"The fifth element, I figured a little Everclear would help you." Myka shrugs. Everclear wasn't legal in the state, but the bar always managed to get their hands on a couple bottles of the 190 proof alcohol; they had certain connections around town. Gale gulps down the drink, instantly creating a burning sensation down his throat. Yes, this was definitely a strong drink, it's exactly what he needs right now. He sets the mug down, looking up at the boy with the yellow and green eyes; they look just like Gale's- empty and cold. There's a sort of comfort just seeing it, this wasn't someone who was going to pretend to care. Everyone around them is sheep waiting to be lead into their herd.
Gale and Myka are not sheep; they are wolves seeking out their next meal to hunt as a means of survival, lone canis lupus searching for their pack, misunderstood misfits lost in the snow. Though neither of them can see it, they can sense it in each other. "Thanks."
Myka turns away, going back to mixing drinks for the self-indulgent, mindless cattle. His night is not over yet. Gale continues to down his drink, his mind beginning to finally fade. The memories are still there, but he doesn't feel the sadness or anger anymore, all replaced by numbness. Pretty soon, nothing bothers him. Nothing matters. It all just ceases to exist. And this is what he wants, to be able to see it all and not care anymore.