Madge was sitting at the bottom of the outdoor staircase next to the gym when Gale found her. "Shouldn't you be in class?" he asked. He was so tall that he seemed to tower over her, an old gray henley stretched tight across his broad shoulders.
"Shouldn't you?" she responded, feeling defensive. So what if they were both friends with Katniss? That didn't mean he could tell her what to do.
He winked and waved a hall pass at her, signed with an incomprehensible scribble. "I am."
"Let me see that." She grabbed the pass out of his hand and studied it. "This isn't anyone's signature," she said. "Not a teacher's, anyway."
Gale grinned, but didn't bother to explain. "Come on, Princess. If you're gonna cut class, at least try not to get caught." He jerked his head to one side and turned to go, then stopped and looked over his shoulder, waiting until she stood and followed him.
They walked side by side past the gym and the theater, around the corner by the tennis courts to a low brick building with a garage door open about a third of the way. Gale ducked under the door and Madge followed, blinking in the low light. There was an old car in pieces on one side of the room, the hood and doors off. On the other side of the room there was a classroom area, with some desks in rows and an old wheeled chalkboard.
"The auto shop?" Madge asked, looking around curiously. She'd never been in this room before, and it was a lot more comfortable than she might've thought. There was even a corner in the back with some old couches and bunch of crates pushed together to form a coffee table.
Gale stopped and turned around to face her, arms crossed and a dangerous look in his eye. "Yeah, so?"
"So you cut class to go to a different class?" she asked. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"
He shrugged, and the sharp line of his shoulders relaxed. "It's a good spot, and Abernathy is never here before lunch, so..."
"Well, thanks," she said, and smiled warmly. "For sharing your spot."
"No problem." He lowered himself onto a barstool next to the chalkboard and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why were you cutting class, anyway?"
She took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of rust and oil, rubber and sweat that permeated the room. It really didn't seem important anymore, whether or not Clove Andrews thought she was a stuck-up bitch. "Just the same old high school stuff," Madge said, rolling her eyes. "I needed to get away from it for an hour."
Gale's eyes were steely gray in the low light, and his eyelashes were impossibly dark. "I would've thought you'd be all about that high school bullshit," he said.
Madge wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult. "Not really a joiner, I guess," she said. It was hard to feel comfortable when most people acted like being friends with Madge would get them out of parking tickets or something, just because her dad was the Mayor. If that was their motivation, she'd rather not be friends at all.
"Me either," he said, and grinned again. It was the same smile he'd given her outside, but in the small, dark space it seemed different somehow. Hotter.
Madge felt her skin tingle with heat, and wondered if she should go. She bit her lip and looked at Gale, his dark eyes and muscled arms, his slouched posture and full mouth.
Maybe it would've been the right thing to leave, the smart thing. Maybe that's what a good girl would have done. But Madge found that she didn't want to run away from this moment, or from this guy.
Instead, she stepped forward and stood between Gale's knees, and kissed him full on the mouth. A moment later, he was kissing her back.
Madge pushed open the door of the auto shop and stepped inside. The room was dark, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, she saw Gale in the back of the room, hunched over a high counter with homework spread out around him.
"Hi," he said. His eyes were steady, watching her from across the room.
She held up his note with two fingers. "You rang?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't waver. He'd ignored her in the hall the other day, walking off without a word. And then just when she'd accepted that their makeout session had been a one-time thing, she'd opened her locker to find a scrap of notebook paper with his spiky handwriting on it. Tuesday, 3rd period, same place.
"Madge, I- c'mere," he said, beckoning to her with his fingers. He stood up and met her halfway across the room, next to the hollow car frame that had probably been sitting there for decades.
"It's better this way," he said, running a hand through his dark hair. The muscles in his arm rippled and flexed as he moved, and she couldn't tear her eyes away.
"What way?" she asked. She wanted to stay angry, but in her own ears her voice sounded soft and curious. Was that what he wanted - clandestine meetings in darkened classrooms, sneaking around and hooking up in secret? She had to admit, it sounded kind of... hot.
"We don't have to tell anyone," he said. "You know, if you still want-"
"Yes," she interrupted. "I want." One way or another, she definitely wanted more of Gale Hawthorne.
He closed the distance between them and ducked down to kiss her, his lips hot and hungry against her own.
It was even better than she remembered. Madge wrapped her arms around his neck and surged up on her tiptoes, pulling him as close to her mouth as possible, and pressing her body against him from hip to shoulder. Gale groaned softly at the impact and wrapped one arm around her hips.
His tongue slipped into her mouth and she opened wider for him instantly, sucking on his full bottom lip. Beneath the heat and pressure, she tasted a hint of cool freshness, and knew that he'd brushed his teeth for this. Madge smiled into the kiss, and felt his mouth turn up in response.
"What?" he murmured into the skin of her neck, pressing kisses in a column beneath her ear.
"You," she said, leaning her head back to give him more room and digging her fingers into his thick hair.
He groaned, and she felt the vibrations run across her skin, all the way to her toes and back up. "You like that?" she whispered, and tugged on his hair again, more purposeful this time.
With a soft curse, his hips snapped against her abdomen and she felt his cock growing hard inside his jeans. She felt a rush of triumph surge through her.
"Hey, stranger," Clove said in a sing-song voice, slipping into his lap on the squishy couch so Gale couldn't even see the game. "You want to get out of here?"
"Hi," Gale said, setting down his beer on the end table so it wouldn't spill. She was warm and curvy and very, very friendly, and he was more than a little bit tempted -but he thought of Madge, and the way she tasted like strawberries, and the temptation receded.
He twisted his body around, lifting one knee and leaning to the side so Clove slid off his legs onto the couch cushion at his side. She squeaked indignantly as she fell. "What the hell, Hawthorne?" she asked. "You could've just said no, thanks."
"No, thanks," Gale said, his voice flat. He picked up his beer again and took a long sip, not even looking at her.
"Asshole," she muttered as she flounced off, and Gale laughed a little into his beer as she went.
"Interesting choice." Gale turned his head to see who had spoken, and found Thom leaning over the back of the couch, waggling his eyebrows.
He shrugged. "She just wants to get back at her boyfriend," Gale said. Which was true.
"Uh huh," Thom said, falling silent and watching the TV as a three-hundred pound linebacker intercepted the ball and ran twelve yards toward the goal.
"You never had a problem with that before," Thom said, after the play was called dead. Gale looked at him blankly, and he clarified. "Being used for a revenge fuck."
"Not worth it," he said, shifting in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. The truth was, Clove was hot, and she'd do just about anything in bed to get back at Cato. That usually made up for how dirty he felt afterwards.
Thom turned back toward the TV and watched the replay.
Gale fiddled with the pop-top on his beer can, then put it down on the end table, then picked it up again and took a sip, then put it down again.
Thom said nothing.
Gale bit his lip. Finally he admitted in a low voice, "I'm kind of in the middle of something right now." They hadn't made any rules, but he couldn't get Madge out of his head. That was definitely something.
Thom let out a surprised laugh and clapped him on the shoulder before turning back to the screen. "Never thought you had it in you, Hawthorne."
"Hey, fuck you," Gale said, but it was halfhearted at best. He glanced away, and saw Katniss halfway across the room, watching him with narrowed eyes. Shit.
Madge straightened her skirt and checked the buttons on her blouse, then picked up her books and left the auto shop. She tried to stay calm, breathe normally, walk at her regular pace. She wouldn't let herself think about Gale's hands, his mouth, the way his arm muscles shifted beneath the skin as he leaned over her. Her cheeks felt heated and Madge knew she was blushing. Damn it.
The books in her arms felt light, and when she looked down, she realized that one was missing. American History. It was her next class, and she'd need the book. She turned on her heel and walked back toward the auto shop.
When she drew closer to the door, she heard voices inside - not classroom chatter, but a guy and girl talking in familiar tones. Gale and... was that Katniss?
"Tell me the truth this time," Katniss was saying in a steely voice. "Is Madge your secret girlfriend?"
Outside the door, Madge gripped her textbooks so hard that her knuckles looked white. They'd agreed to keep all this a secret, but they'd never really said what this was. Still, she couldn't expect Gale to lie to his best friend, could she?
"My secret girlfriend?" Gale asked, his tone making it sound like this was the craziest idea in the world. "You've been watching too many chick flicks with Prim again."
"You told Thom-" Katniss's voice grew quieter with each word, and Madge had to strain to hear. "That you were in the middle of something, Gale. And then Madge is sneaking out of here during your free period?"
Madge expected Gale to say something along the lines of 'it's just sex.' After all, they didn't have any kind of formal arrangement. They'd never even talked about rules, or about dating other people. But Gale didn't say anything of the kind.
He didn't speak at all for a long minute, and then finally he said, "A girl like Madge Undersee would never date a guy like me."
Madge frowned, and backed away slowly, before Katniss could find her there. But what did Gale mean by that? A guy like me. Gale was- well, half the school thought he was gorgeous. He had girls falling all over him. He could date anyone he chose.
"I heard you're hooking up with Gale Hawthorne," Glimmer Collins said, as soon as Madge emerged from a bathroom stall. She couldn't even remember speaking to Glimmer since fifth-grade graduation; once they hit middle school she'd gotten a whole new group of fashion-conscious friends. Madge hadn't missed her much.
"Where'd you hear that?" Madge asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. She thought of Gale's voice when he'd responded to Katniss earlier. They were keeping this a secret. No big deal, right?
"Everybody knows," Glimmer said dismissively, and then eyed Madge up and down as if she was a prize-winning poodle. How did people know? Madge barely even knew what they were doing, and now it was the talk of the school?
Madge just shrugged, and stepped up to the sink. She turned the tap and watched intently as the ice-cold water run over her palms, so she didn't have to turn her head to watch as Glimmer applied eyebrow pencil.
"Hawthorne's hot, but he's a player," Glimmer said. "Not someone to bring home to the Mayor."
"A player?" she repeated, standing still as her hands dripped water into the sink. She'd been so focused on Gale himself, on his gray eyes and long legs and soft lips, that she hadn't stopped to think about the other girls he'd been with.
"He's good for a couple of weeks of fun, but don't get attached," Glimmer said, blowing an air kiss at her own reflection. "He's not worth it." Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she walked out, and the door closed behind her with a bang.
Madge looked up at her own reflection in the cloudy bathroom mirror, taking in her wide eyes and flushed cheeks, then quickly looked away.
He's a player, Glimmer's voice said in her mind, dismissing Gale in three little words.
Madge Undersee would never date a guy like me, Gale had said. Was that what he meant? A guy who... who played around?
Madge closed her eyes and took a deep breath, only looking up when the door opened again to admit a group of chattering freshmen. She knew what she had to do.
In the upstairs hallway, Gale caught a flash of pale blonde hair. He took a step closer and saw Madge standing at her locker, swapping out books and notebooks. Where his own locker was a mess of notebooks and old homework assignments, decorated with scribbled notes, hers was neat and organized. A small plastic shelf sat inside, giving her space for two neat rows of books. There were no brightly-colored stickers, no mirrors or celebrity photos.
He bit his lip, thinking of what he'd said to Katniss earlier. Madge Undersee would never want to date a guy like him. She was a nice girl - she deserved a boyfriend who'd take her on dates and bring her flowers, not a greasemonkey from the Seam with a bad reputation.
Other girls he'd hooked up with were excited by the fact that he was from the wrong side of town and worked with his hands. They wanted to be seen with him so they could shock their parents and friends, and maybe make their boyfriends jealous. The more adventurous ones wanted to fuck him in the backseat of their Beemer. They didn't care about Gale Hawthorne, all they wanted was a bad boy with oil-stained jeans and a hard dick.
Whatever, he wouldn't say no to sex, freely offered. He always made sure the girls had a good time, too. But he always ended up with a bad taste in his mouth the next day.
None of those girls had ever wanted to just kiss him with no audience, making out for half an hour until his lips were numb and her neck was scratched from stubble. None of them ever had him daydreaming about their hair or their perfume. None of those girls ever left him wanting more like he did now.
Right then, Madge closed her locker and turned around, and her big blue eyes met his. She smiled brightly, and raised one hand in a little wave.
Gale turned and walked away.
Gale stuck one hand in his pocket and touched the crumpled note there, but didn't pull it out. In rounded, even letters, it said Starbucks downtown, 8pm?
So far, their meetings had been limited strictly to enthusiastic makeout sessions in the back of Abernathy's auto shop classroom. It was Madge who wanted to keep this quiet. Wasn't it?
But when Gale thought back to their conversation that day, he couldn't remember Madge saying anything about secrecy. All he could remember was her voice, and the quiet but insistent way she said I want.
Gale was used to want. He was used to girls like Clove climbing into his lap, demanding attention from his hands and his lips and his body. He was used to messing around for a few weeks until the girl went back to her boyfriend. He was used to convenience and simplicity, to low expectations.
But a coffee date? This was new. This was different. Gale didn't do coffee dates.
Madge was taking things to a whole different level. In a fucking note.
Gale climbed behind the wheel of his truck and slammed the door shut. He slipped the key into the ignition, but did not start the engine right away.
He thought about the sick feeling in his stomach when something easy ended, thought about the sneer on Clove's face when he'd rejected her. He thought about the taste of strawberries, and the curve of her waist under his hand, and the note in his pocket.
In ten minutes, Madge would be sitting at a little table in an overpriced coffee shop, waiting for him. He could picture her smooth blonde hair and bright blue eyes, could imagine the wisps of steam rising off the coffee and curling around her face.
He wiped his palms on his jeans, and tried to slow his racing heart. He started the engine.
A gust of cold wind blew through the Starbucks as the door opened, and Madge looked up quickly.
"Hi," Gale said, slipping into the chair across from her.
Madge smiled, and felt a slow, sweet warmth spread through her body. "You got my note," she said. She'd hoped, of course, but she had been far from certain that he would show up. A part of her, the part where her ugly doubts lived, wanted to listen to Glimmer and say don't get attached. But the bigger part of her mind was screaming at her to be bold and reach out and take a chance on what she wanted, no matter the risk.
She took a deep breath. "Keeping this a secret isn't really working," she said evenly. "Everyone's talking about us."
"I know," he said. "Katniss ambushed me the other day and asked if you were my secret girlfriend." His voice didn't give much away.
Madge felt her stomach drop. Was she walking into a horrible rejection? No. He was here, that had to mean something... Right? She shook her head. "Why do they care?" she asked, beginning to feel angry. "They don't have anything better to do than talk about us?"
"It's just more of the same old high school bullshit," Gale said, frowning down at the table.
"Want to do something about it?" Madge asked, her anger fading quickly into determination.
Gale smiled. "What did you have in mind?"
"Are you sure about this?" Gale asked. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Through the windshield, the school gym blazed with colored lights.
Madge unfastened her seat belt and slid across the bench seat so that her thigh touched his. "I'm sure."
"-Because if you don't want the whole school to see you with Seam trash, you'll have to stop this now," he continued, as if he hadn't heard her at all. His jaw was clenched and his eyes turned straight ahead, away from her.
"Hey," Madge said sharply. Twisting around on the seat, she hiked up one knee so she could face him head-on. She raised one hand to his face and turned his head gently, so she could see his gray eyes in the low light. "Don't talk about my boyfriend that way."
Gale's lips curled up into a half-smile, his face relaxed and he let out a long, shuddering breath. "All right," he said. "Let's do this."
They walked toward the gym side by side, through the dark parking lot. When they reached the entrance, Gale stopped and offered his arm to Madge, holding out his elbow in an awkward gesture. Instead of taking it, she slipped her hand into his and laced their fingers together.
As they stepped through the door, the heavy, pulsing beat of electronic dance music swept over them. The gym was decorated with balloons and streamers, and a huge paper mache crescent moon sparkled with glitter above the dance floor. Madge wobbled a little on her high heels, and Gale squeezed her hand in his.
They were six steps inside the door when the whispers started. Madge felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as one after another, people turned to look at them with wide eyes. Her heart began to race and she bit her lip, feeling like maybe this hadn't been the best idea after all.
She followed Gale as he pulled her through the crowd, past all the people watching them with narrowed eyes, and onto the dance floor.
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed one big hand to the small of her back. Madge tried to figure out where to put her own hands, before settling them on his broad shoulders.
"Have you ever been to a dance before?" she asked. He was so close like this, the edge of his jaw only an inch from her temple. She breathed in the warm, spicy scent of him, and ran her fingers over the fabric of his dark suit.
"Thought it would just be more high school bullshit," he said, with a small shrug that she could feel all the way to her toes.
"And...?" she asked, leaning back to look him in the eye.
"Turns out, it's not so bad," Gale said, and ducked his head to kiss her.
This time, she didn't even hear the whispers.