"Peeta was asking about you today," Prim teases in the girly girl voice that she knows always makes me scowl. She's been hinting at it for the past week that Peeta is good looking and a nice guy and that I should definitely keep him in mind. I try not to perk up at the sound of his name though, even though I want to.
"Oh yeah?" I counter, trying to be absent on purpose as I move around the kitchen.
"Mmhmm. Wanted to know if you were going to come bowling with us on Thursday." I really look at her then, finally tearing my eyes from the scrambled eggs I'm making for dinner.
"I should probably try to pick up an extra shift," I say instead of the 'yes' that I want to shout. I do want to go – I'm desperate to do something with anyone – but I really need the money in order to pay rent this month. Haymitch says we're still on the lists and that I really should think about submitting our loan application.
"Oh come on Katniss! You know you want to go! The centre is paying for everything so it won't cost you a dime. Just say you'll come. Say it!" Prim shouts and hustles into the kitchen to hug me around the waist as she begs me. I can't help but smile at her familiar actions.
"Fine, I'll go! I'll go!" I concede. "Let me finish the eggs in peace!"
"Ah! I can't wait to tell Peeta tomorrow, he is going to be so excited!" I quickly look at her then, a small amount of horror on my face.
"What? You will not!" I shout, desperate to avoid the awkwardness that would come with that interaction.
"I will! And he'll be happy! Trust me Katniss, he's a good guy! We've known him for almost three months now! He's great and he loves that you're so involved!" Prim practically sings as she dances around the kitchen with our plates as though she's in some fairytale. I have to pause – I've been home for almost four months? The realization nearly knocks me on my ass.
I should be going back to school soon. Hell, I don't even know if I've filed my withdrawal. There's so many things that I've left untied back in Portland and it seems to kick me in the gut all at once. Prim seems to notice it too throughout dinner as she takes in my reserved behaviour.
"I'm sorry you had to come back here, Katniss," She whispers at the end of the meal, almost to only her plate. The quiet apology nearly guts me as my head snaps up to look at her.
"Don't you ever apologize for that. I came back here because you needed me – I'll always help you when you need me, do you hear? You are the most important thing to me Prim – ever. Ever." I reaffirm just in case she missed it the first time.
My regret isn't about not going back – it's about not remembering all of my responsibilities. I've got so much to do and I've forgotten all of it and now I'll need to take a day to try to get everything in order. A day without work. And I've got to find somewhere with a computer and internet. Maybe a fax machine.
On top of all that, the concerns about Prim's next appointment come barreling in like a bull in a china shop. At her next appointment she'll be sent for more tests and more tests mean more numbers that I still don't have a handle on. We'll also hear how she's responding to treatment – what if it isn't working? – how do we adjust again? I can't help but feel the anxiety closing in as I start to remember all of the things I need to read up on to help track her treatment.
These reminders carry me all the way through my evening shower and to my room as I pull on my pyjamas and lay in bed restlessly for an hour. My chest feels heavy with the weight of everything I need to do and I find myself tossing and turning until exhaustion finally begins to take over. I fall asleep with the thoughts racing through my head slowly disappearing and turning into dreams that haunt my waking hours.
It's early morning when I pick up the phone to call the centre to ask for my biggest favour yet. I hang it up, chickening out, again. My hands shake minutely as I slide the phone along the wooden surface some more.
They've helped me so much since walking through their doors that I'm starting to feel bad for not giving back. I just wished I had the time – with trying to work as much as I can and taking care of Prim when I'm home, it seems like I've barely got enough time to sleep let alone volunteer.
That's why when I walk in on Tuesday morning and see Johanna with her feet up on the desk I try to put on my best bargaining face.
"I'm willing to trade anything for use of a computer, some internet, and a fax machine," I mumble as I lean on the reception desk. Johanna lets out a bark of laughter as she looks me over.
"Anything eh? Well, we've got a lot of folks 'round here who've traded things and regretted it so let's just call it even that you don't make a mess that I'll have to clean later?"
"I feel bad though that you guys help us with anything and I haven't given anything back," I argue and stand up a little taller. Johanna just smirks.
"Well you've made our afternoon receptionist a little brighter, how about that for payment?" She jokes and I scowl. I've done nothing of the sort. "Look," She tries again and leans forward. "We're here to help. We get it that you need to work and that not everyone has time to volunteer. It's not the business of trade we're in so just do what you need to do and stop feeling guilty, okay? It's wasted energy."
I look at her carefully and measure her words, weighing them for value and honesty. She doesn't break a smile, not once, proving that she's at least a really good actress or telling the truth.
"Okay – where can I get settled?" I ask hesitantly and pull out a thick folder of things I need to deal with.
I spend a few hours sitting at the computer, sorting through the school's website and trying to figure out how to postpone my next semester which only leads me to how to take online courses. I consider it but then see the price tag and refocus on trying to get out of my program. After I've faxed on my letter – Johanna had to hit the send button for me – I move on to settling my lease with Madge who's come to terms with the fact that I won't be back.
By the time I work around to settling out all of my local accounts, Johanna is about to head out the door because Peeta's arrived for the afternoon shift.
Where normally his face is bright with mirth, today it's so clouded that even Johanna doesn't joke with him. When he spots me sitting at the computer over the desk, he smiles sadly and drops his stuff under the desk.
"Hey," he mumbles and flips through the log book reading the days entries. He doesn't say anything more before heading into the back and entering one of the offices. On his way by though, I notice that his hand is wrapped up in thick white bandages and I have to stop to think about what has happened to make his day so miserable.
I'm just about to finish with the computer when a young girl walks in and towards the reception desk. I sit up straighter and look around desperately for Peeta, completely unsure of what to do. With no one in sight, I look over and smile brightly hoping I can at least delay her until someone comes to my rescue.
"Hi, can I help you?" I ask evenly and flick my eyes down the hallway. The little girl returns my smile and shifts nervously on her feet.
"I'm supposed to meet a – " She pauses and looks at her hand where something is scribbled in black ink. "Effie – Effie Trinket. She's my counsellor, I think." The girl states and I see the flush below her dark skin. With one last desperate look down the hallway, I scoot out from around the desk.
"Let me just see if I can find her," I mumble and slip down the line of doors until I find one with the light on. Knocking quickly, I poke my head past the door to find Haymitch sitting at his desk, Peeta across from him with his head in his hands. I can't help but feel like I've intruded on something private. "I'm uh – sorry, I don't – there's someone here looking for Effie?" I struggle to state.
"Goddamn that woman," Haymitch growls and gets to his feet slowly. When he steps past Peeta he gently squeezes his shoulder before moving past me and towards the front office.
I stand there silently for another moment, unsure of whether to do something or apologize again for interrupting. When still Peeta doesn't move to get up, I shift on my feet and look at my toes.
"I'm here, if you need anything," I mumble pathetically hoping to provide any type of reassurance to this man who's always been so kind to me. After a moment with no answer, I slip back out into the hallway and collect my bag from the front desk before heading out the door with the memory of Peeta's sad smile burnt into my mind.
I can't get the picture of Peeta in Haymitch's office out of my head. It clouds my thoughts and only seems to add to my worries, mingling in with the rent that's due and the degree that I won't finish.
Later that night, sometime between when I burn the pasta and blow the sauce all over the microwave, I ask Prim to check in on him the next day when she returns a book. She gives me a curious look, the words poised on her tongue, but says nothing as she hands me the paper towel.
"He was fine, will you stop giving me that look now?" Prim asks, poking her head into the refrigerator and looking for food we don't have.
"What are you talking about? What look?" I counter as I turn towards her from my place at the table.
"Uh, you know the one. It's the same one you give me every time we go to the doctors, like you're worried something horrendous is going to happen. You're such a worry wart Katniss." Hundreds of come backs come to me in that moment, defenses for my behaviour and smart words to snap back at her, but none of them seem important right now. She's right. I do worry. I have reasons to worry.
"Okay. Fine," I relent and turn back to the job applications I've sprawled across the table.
"You're giving up?" Prim asks, her voice high with surprise as she closes the refrigerator door and swings towards me. "What's going on? That comment should have riled you up!"
"Nothing, Duck. Just tired." I hear her footsteps come towards me, feel her body standing behind me as she bites down on whatever snack she's found.
"He really did look okay today; I'd tell you if he didn't." She says quietly and waits for my nod before patting me on the shoulder and retreating to her room. I sit there for another hour, scrawling in my underwhelming qualifications before retiring to my own room and trying to block out everything else going on.
AN: Hi all! I hope everyone is having a great break (if you get one). Currently we're experiencing a crazy ice storm and there might be rolling power outages but oh well! Tis the season! I hope you and yours are all well and that you enjoy this chapter. Thank you again to my lovely Opaque who is keeping me sane on writing during my 60 hour work weeks. Much love to all of you who read and review!