The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.

You know that feeling when you can feel people's gaze on you for some unknown reason? When the reason being unknown is even more unpleasant than everyone trying to burn a hole right through your braid?

I don't. Because I always know the reason.

Last year, Madeleine Ashmore's mother paid me to prove her daughter gets her good grades in English on her own. When it turned out that she copies half of her test from a friend and the other from the notes she takes in class, it was like I opened the gates to hell. Madeleine was grounded until the summer and she, or her friends, didn't like that one bit. They made sure to sit close to me during classes and make sure I lived in my own personal hell. I failed exams and didn't answer questions right because I couldn't concentrate from the constant kicking on my chair. I knew better than to stand up for myself. What would I say? I don't like what my job sometimes forces me to do either.

This time it's different. What I did for the Mellarks… that was right.

That's what I keep reminding myself as I make my way to my and Madge's table. She's late again, but I doubt it's because of a fight, since I haven't seen the main troublemaker around school today. His brother is, though. I guess they're done packing, or maybe that's what Rye's home for. My version is his bruises kept him in bed. I would've asked Peeta, but he walked right past me in the hallway and didn't turn around even once in History. He's colder to me now than he was during the many years we spent not having spoken a word to each other. I don't care. It's not like anything's changed. This is the way things used to be and I need things to be the way they used to be. I don't care.

I do care. I do care that everyone, Seam and town, are staring as I take a bite of the last cheese bun Peeta gave me on Sunday. The bakery's been closed for two days. The only bakery. There's no need to ask why or thanks to whom. I hope the torture doesn't start today because I have a Biology exam I know I can nail (unless someone is snickering in my ear; haven't I had enough, haven't I seen the emptiness in my mother's eyes and what it did to her to lose her husband and oh, our poor family, haven't I faced starvation right in the eyes and I can hear it already because it's what I've told myself too).

I stand up and gather all of my stuff, except what's left of the cheese bun, which doesn't make me feel much better, because no matter what you do, you never throw away food. I leave the cafeteria from the door leading to outside, closing the door as quietly as possible. It didn't matter, as I catch a glimpse of everyone's eyes trained on me, some even turned around on their chairs.

Outside there are tables too, empty now, but full of students whenever the weather's good. I don't mind the cold and I could easily stay here, but with the big cafeteria windows I might've as well remained inside. So I run and don't stop until I've reached the other side of the school building.

Excluding the woods, this is my favorite place. The reason I like it so much, really, is because there's nowhere else you have such a good view at them. The meadow leading to them is too big, bigger than the one by my house, but just the tiniest glimpse makes me miss the weight of the quiver on my back or just the silence you can't find at a school full of hormonal teenagers. It would be so easy to jump the school's fence and take off. It would also be incredibly dumb. Even I'm not quick enough not to get noticed before I'm too far away to be recognized.

I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts, I instinctively reach for an arrow when I hear unknown footsteps. Except they're not unknown.

"Sorry," Peeta says, after seeing how I jump in surprise.

Shrugging, I take a seat on the one and only bench. It's been here since the first day I found this place in 7th grade. It was old then, so you can imagine the condition it's in now.

"Are you okay?" I want to roll my eyes at how predictable he is. Treating me like I don't exist in public, but when we're alone – like I'm his bestest friend. Again, I don't care, but he has no right to come to my place. How does he even know my place?

"What are you doing here?" I ask my own, instead of answering his question.

"Delly told me you looked very upset."

"Was that before or after you guilt tripped me with your rich kids friends at your rich kids table?" I blurt out, before I even think about it. I saw exactly where Delly was today – at the table where the most snickers were coming from. Merchants don't need to be worried the bakery's closed; it's going to cost them a bit more, but they can survive on other food for a while or buy damn ingredients themselves.

"It was before she proposed to find the nurse and after she searched the whole school to find me." I don't even bother trying to hold his steady gaze to intimidate him, I just dart my eyes away, back to the woods.

"Sorry," I say and he shrugs, much like I did a moment ago, and sits down next to me. We sit in silence for a while.

"What are you doing here?" Peeta sighs, knowing I wasn't satisfied with his last answer.

"Are you okay?" This time I do roll my eyes. "I wanted to make sure you are. You should be. You don't deserve this."

"What exactly is this? Some dumb girls, whose personal cheap dictionaries, happen to be 90% profanities? Guys, whose lives are over after high school, bumping me into lockers? They can't get to me."

"Obviously they can, since you prefer to freeze out here than to enjoy your food inside where it's warm. As warm as it gets in the damn school, anyway," Peeta says.

"I'm okay, okay? I just got a little tired of listening to people who don't know the truth or glaring at me for something I had no control over. It'll all be water under the bridge by next year," I insist, though deep down I'm not so sure.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

"Don't be. I'm not. I know what I was signing up for. I didn't expect it to happen and I thought it'd be half done by now, but the risk was always there. It's not the first time, it won't be the last. This just happens to be a more… personal case and yeah, maybe they do get to me, but that's just because they don't know I did the right thing." Oh, if people only knew the bruises Peeta sports from time to time aren't from wrestling or bumping into doors… I doubt I'd be the one they try to burn holes through. They'd literally burn the witch. Everyone likes Peeta. That's why they choose to gossip about Rye, isolate me, but not Peeta.

I don't dare turn around, feeling his gaze all over me. I stare right ahead at the only image that calms me down, but it's no use, because when I finally turn back to Peeta, my heart jumps. He's so close. Have his eyes always been so blue?

I lean back against the bench, feigning tiredness. "How did you find me so fast?"

Peeta's the one who turns away this time, scratching his neck. Interesting.

"Well, um… I've kind of seen you here before. On more than one occasion."

That's not possible. If anyone saw me I'd switch places immediately. I'm actually not sure I would've if it was just Peeta, but still… I would have known.

"When?"

"The first time was when I was still a wrestler. The gym has an exit right behind that corner." He points to the left. "Everyone always exits from the school's doors, but I personally don't feel like going through the halls again after spending the entire day doing that already. So I'd get home from this way instead."

"Still, I would see you if you pass right in front of me. And what was I doing here after classes are over, anyway?"

"You were waiting for your sister," Peeta says and I raise an eyebrow at his certainty. "When I saw you, I stopped in my tracks and hid behind the corner. That makes me sound like a stalker. I'm not, I promise. I just didn't want to disturb you, unlike I did just a few minutes ago. You look so peaceful here, you know that? I can only imagine what you're like in the woods."

Gale says I never smile except in the woods. Gale is wrong.

Seeing the corners of my mouth tug up slightly, Peeta relaxes and smiles sheepishly too.

"Prim called you shortly after. I didn't just sit there for hours staring, so don't you think that." I didn't think that. Except now that I do think about it… Why didn't he tell me he was glad that after all he didn't have to take the other way out? That's what would've happened if Prim had taken longer, isn't it?

"I never got to see you here after practice again." Get to see me. As if we're friends or something. "But there have been other cases, when I'd avoid going home and circle the school instead. Sometimes you'll be here, sometimes not. Either way it helped."

My heart clenches at the thought of Peeta not being able to find solace in the one place you're supposed to feel safe at. My rage is soothed by the thought of him finding it here. Or in me.

I gulp. "Why did you stop wrestling?" I do wonder. He came in second in a competition last year, only after Rye. What's changed since then?

"My mother," he says and I wish I hadn't asked. I should've seen this coming. "She used to love listening to people compliment her sons on their success, but then she stopped coming to the bakery at all. Makes sense now. Can't be in two places at once and lovers are more important than anything." I've never heard his voice this bitter. It's not self-pitying; it's anger, it's not being able to understand how can someone be this cruel. I don't get it either. "She signed me off without even asking me, but kept Rye on the team. Now she can have both – the good comments and the balance in the bakery. Not that she got much of anything done, anyway."

I imagine having to give up something you love to do. Then having to see somebody else doing it. Peeta's not the kind of person to say "If I can't have it, you can't either", in fact, I bet he just smiles through it all and claps Rye on the back. He just shouldn't have to. I place my hand on his, the one he has on his knee.

"Peeta, is she going to fight for you too? I mean, is she okay with the fact that you've just left with your father?" The question whether the witch is going to give up her sons just like that has been on my mind since I learned this is going to be taken to the judge.

I don't get an answer for a while. Peeta just stares at our hands, for so long, I grow concerned. What's so bad?

"I kind of thought she'd want at least the scandal, you know? It'd look good. It'd be a good story. She'd make my father the bad guy, make her lover "the new father". Except she has no time or desire even for that. I'm not sad, I'm not angry, I'm just… shocked. That's what makes it worse. You'd think I learned my lesson. Money comes before family. Always has, always will."

I don't tell him that this is for the best. If she wanted to take her children too, then the lawsuit would surely be prolonged. I don't even want to think about the possibility of her winning it. Then it would've been all for nothing. There's no way I'm letting her walk out of this a victor.

"Well, she's not getting either of those," I assure Peeta, absently stroking his hand. "I'm going to the lawyer I told you about after school. Do you know if your mother has found one already?"

"Haven't talked to her since all of this started. That's what me and dad agreed is best." I nod in agreement. "But I'm pretty sure a friend of hers is a lawyer. Whether they still keep contact I don't know, but it's a possibility she'll be the one we're facing. Carol something."

"Should be easy to track her down. I'll tell you about both of them tomorrow… perhaps tonight? Do you have a phone I can reach you at?"

"Wouldn't it be easier if I just came with you to this lawyer of yours? He'd probably want to have at least the slightest idea about who he's going to be working for," Peeta suggests.

"He doesn't have much of a choice here. It's not like people search for a lawyer every day, you know. And even if he was picky, I'm not asking for his opinion. We need the best, he's the best. We're getting him." I come out more confident than I sound in my head. To be honest, I've been denied his partnership more than once. "It wouldn't hurt if you join me, no. He lives pretty far, so we're going with my car. Do you need to go to Bannock's after school or…?"

"No, if you're okay with leaving right away, then it's fine." I nod, thankful for once for the bad weather that forced me to drive me and my sister this morning. Now we won't have to waste time going back to my house. I can only hope Gale's going to be okay with taking Prim there. "We have 6th period together, anyway," Peeta says.

I nod again, just as the first bell rings. "I have P.E. now. See you then?" After he nods back, I take off in the direction of the gym, taking the same road that Peeta does.

The biology quiz went pretty well, I think. It was the same period Peeta and I had together. When I arrived, I was relieved to find him behind my usual seat and not Madeleine or whoever felt like messing with me today. I was able to answer all of the questions and even help Peeta out with a few when he started, subconsciously, kicking my chair to relieve his stress.

There are still a couple of minutes left, but I've already handed over my sheet to the teacher. On the same note I've written down some of the answers to the quiz, I add where my car is located in the parking lot. Stretching my arm backwards as if to fix my braid, I pass the note to the still working Peeta and begin to gather my stuff. When I lean down to put everything in my bag that's carelessly left on the floor, I spot the small sheet of paper next to my shoe.

"Wait for me outside the classroom?"

I sigh quietly, knowing it's useless to avoid it anymore. It's not like people haven't been staring at each of us all day, but I'd rather not witness the chaos when they see us together.

The bell rings, so getting up, I turn around and give Peeta a quick nod before leaving the classroom. I lean against the wall next to the door. Being one of the first to walk out, I am now forced to witness everyone else doing it. The reason for the double stares isn't hard to guess. I don't have many friends. Who could I possibly be waiting for?

After what seems like hours (but it can't be because there are still students in the hallway… unless they've stopped just for me), Peeta leaves the classroom. He's not alone. The boy he's chatting with seems confused when they stop not long after the door. It's not until he spots me that he realizes Peeta's reached his destination. I keep my eyes on the floor the whole time, but I quickly grow impatient and look the guy straight in his. After he finally nods goodbye, Peeta turns to me, "Come on."

Most of the remaining in the hallway still have classes left and are standing closely to their lockers, either taking out their books or chatting. Unfortunately, that forces us to walk right in the middle, where, even if you don't want to, you will see us. The only person I'm glad to spot is Gale, who, as my sister, has 1 more class and will then drive her home with his truck, as promised.

I'm not so happy about the others. I try to keep my eyes on the ground as I've learned is best, but the many people that pass are making it impossible. To help us get through faster or for comfort, I don't know, Peeta grabs my hand. He doesn't have time to lace his fingers with mine before I'm pushing his hand away and putting my own in my jacket's pockets. This doesn't go unnoticed by neither Peeta, nor everyone that's got their attention on us. I imagine some are shaking their heads in disapproval, some saying Seam trash like me obviously doesn't deserve him, but I only care about Peeta's reaction. He's looking miserable as if the school day just started instead of ended. Still, when a big group of students walk right through us, more than likely on purpose almost bumping me into a teacher, I feel his gentle push on my back. Not long after that we're finally outside.

It's not until we've hurried to my car and settled next to each other that I blurt out, "What were you thinking?"

"Judging by your voice, I wasn't," Peeta says, buckling his seatbelt. I don't bother with my own for now, because I have no intention of leaving the parking lot until we settle this and he understands why I'm upset.

"What about what they were thinking? I don't want anyone, including you by the way, to come to the conclusion that I'm doing this because we're friends or something. We're not." Obviously, since it's like I don't exist whenever someone else is with us. And it was me who helped him in Biology.

He huffs, exhaling a cold breath. There isn't a heater in my car. Investigating in the winter is a pain in the ass. "Okay. I enjoyed that thought for as long as I could… wish it was for longer, but okay."

Okay? I huff too, turning to buckle my seatbelt. With my shaking hands it seems impossible, so I just give up and turn to Peeta again. "Which part did you enjoy? The one where I'm kind to you and you're kind to me and it's all okay, until it's not just the two of us anymore? It really seems like a good deal, now that I think about it, I see why you wouldn't think twice about walking past me in the hallway."

Thankfully, he doesn't deny it. I would've started the car just to dump him on the side of the road if he even tried to. "I didn't think much about it, no. And walking past you isn't nearly my best, or I guess my worst. I switched directions to avoid interacting with you and might of have overslept today to miss our first period together."

I can't believe he's saying these things to me. Why did I sign up for this case at all?

"I'm so sorry." I look up, surprised. "I thought you'd get it. I was doing it to avoid what just happened when we walked down the hallway together. But then lunch happened and I realized I was going at it the wrong way."

"That was stupid, Peeta. We already have more than enough attention separately." I don't tell him how I was dreading being spotted with him too. Seriously, if he had stopped me when we saw each other in the hallway, there's a possibility I would've ran away.

"I know. There's nothing to hide. I'm never hanging with half of those idiots ever again. I thought we could spend lunch together from now on, but since we're not friends…"

"We're friends," I interrupt him. "I'm sorry I pushed you away. It was an instinct to protect us."

When he hesitantly grasps my hands, I don't hesitate to link my fingers through his. I end up driving with just one hand the whole time.

"Have you ever been here before?" I ask Peeta when we step out of the car. The small village is about 3 miles from the center of town and it seems like another world entirely even in our small district. There are twelve houses, each large enough to hold ten of my own. Eleven stand empty, as they always have. The only one in use belongs to Haymitch Abernathy.

Haymitch's the richest citizen of district 12 and his wealth obviously comes from his family and not just his job which he rarely does. Strangely, he lives all alone now. I don't know what happened to his close ones. He's the only one who can afford to not only rent a house here, but buy it. People that are in the district for a visit usually stay in this village.

Peeta shakes his head, looking around. I almost laugh at his astonished expression as he takes everything in, but I know my own reaction wasn't much different when my father first brought me here as a child. Dad didn't look too happy then and wanted to get home as soon as possible, but I never forgot this place.

"Wait…" Peeta says, clearly realizing where we are. "You're taking me to the district's drunkard?"

"Do you believe every story that people go around saying about me?" That shuts him up as we make our way through the village. "Well, actually, most of the stories about Haymitch are true. But he still gets the job done as long as he has the desire to do so."

"No offense, Katniss, but we're just a couple of kids. He probably has more money than he needs. Why would he want to help us?"

"None taken, Peeta, but he is going to help us. It's all about acquaintances. Haymitch and I, we go way back." Haymitch and my father go way back, we can barely stand each other, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him.

Haymitch's house, despite the care taken by the grounds-keeper, exudes an air of abandonment and neglect. I brace myself at his front door, look at Peeta, then push inside without bothering to knock first. He's not going to answer. My nose immediately wrinkles in disgust. Haymitch refuses to let anyone in to clean and does a poor job himself. Over the years the odors of liquor and vomit, boiled cabbage and burned meat, unwashed clothes and mouse droppings have intermingled into a stench that brings tears to my eyes. I wade through a litter of discarded wrappings, broken glass, and bones to where I know I will find Haymitch. He sits at the kitchen table, his arms sprawled across the wood, his face in a puddle of liquor, snoring his head off. I nudge his shoulder. "Get up!" I say loudly.

Nothing. Haymitch is still dead to the world. I make Peeta fill a basin with icy cold water and before he can stop me, I dump it on Haymitch's head. A guttural animal sound comes from his throat. He jumps up, kicking his chair ten feet behind him and wielding a knife. Spewing profanity, he slashes the air a few moments before coming to his senses. He wipes his face on his shirtsleeve, glaring at me. Then he notices I'm not alone.

"New boyfriend?" I hate myself for the heat in my cheeks, since that was obviously his intention.

"My name's Peeta Mellark," he intervenes, taking out his hand for Haymitch to shake, which he of course doesn't do and instead chooses to stare Peeta up and down.

At least he got Haymitch's interest, as he is now staring at me with eyebrows raised, silently asking me how did I manage to find someone so well-mannered. Thankfully, he doesn't say it aloud or any other jab at me, and moves on. He does know I don't just bring in people like that unless it's business.

"What can I do for you, Peeta Mellark? Oh, wait a minute. Tell me you're Mellark as in Mellark bakery." Peeta nods, confused. "Good, that's good. Then, whatever your problem is, I'm not fixing it unless the payment is in food."

"Haymitch, that's ridiculous-" I start to protest, but Peeta interrupts me.

"I'm sure that can be arranged even though the bakery's not open right now… That's kind of why I'm here, actually."

As Peeta explains the situation, Haymitch listens surprisingly attentively, even asks him the right kind of questions at the right places. I'm not needed much until after Haymitch's officialy agreed to be on Mr. Mellark's side.

"I see you strongly believe in what you're fighting for, but there are going to be people that are completely indifferent. You need to convince them, collect strong evidence against that woman." As we were planning to. "I'm going to contact her soon, but you stay away!"

"Thank you, Haymitch," I say finally.

"Yeah, yeah, just doing my job. Send me whatever I need to sign and you tell your dad to come see me sometime this week." He turns to Peeta, who can only nod, trying to contain his emotions.

I stare at him on the way to the car, trying to gauge his reaction, but he's completely still. It's all over when we get inside. He starts laughing and I sense where this is going immediately. He's been trying to be strong for too long and I knew it was about time for him to break. I had just selfishly hoped it wouldn't be in my company, because for some reason whenever he's hurt it reflects right back to me. I've already leant forward and rested my head on his shoulder when his cries begin.

"Dont. Don't, she doesn't deserve it," I say close to his ear. It doesn't work and I realize how truly scared he is. "Shh, you'll be okay." I'll be with you.

"Katniss?" I hear him say after a while with a sniff.

"Hm?" I could fall asleep like this.

"I want you to tell them about the bread."

I feel chills all the way down to my toes. The bread, which we do not talk about. He wants me to talk about it in front of strangers. I stand up straight to look at him properly.

"Me?"

"Yes. Her attitude towards me is going to be pretty obvious by that point. They need to know how she was to you, too."

"She was hardly the only one, Peeta," I say sadly, but also matter-of-factly. I hate her more for the bruise on him than for the emptiness in my stomach.

"Doesn't matter. I want her to regret it," he spits out, staring at the raindrops that have begun to collect on the window, while I can't take my eyes off him.

"Then I'm going to tell them about the boy with the bread, too." My quiet, but determined voice breaks at the end and I wouldn't be sure whether he heard me if I hadn't felt him turn to me suddenly. I don't look back, not when I start the car and not when I pull up to Bannock's house that Peeta had to break the silence and direct me to.

I do look when, after a short goodbye without even waiting for my response, Peeta gets out of the car and hurries inside the house, either because of the rain or to get away from me. I'll never know.

It bugs me all through the rest of the day, making me snappy even at Prim. It's not until after dinner when I'm laying on my stomach, looking up information about his mother's friend on my laptop, that I finally find a good enough reason to contact him. I dial his phone number. He picks up immediately. I wonder if he would've done the same if it wasn't an unknown caller, but Katniss on his screen.

"Hello?" His voice is raspy as if he's just woken up. I look at the clock. 7:30pm.

"Sorry, were you sleeping?"

"Katniss? Um yeah, thought I'd get a few hours on Bannock's bed before I have to move to the floor." He laughs. "It's okay, though, he's probably already planning to storm in and throw me out, so thanks."

"You're welcome?" I laugh awkwardly, glad that at least it's not the kind of awkward I expected. "Well, um... your mom's friend, or should I say her official lawyer, sure is something. Caroline Campbell, born here but studied in district 2, has lived in the Capitol, has won every case she's had come her way, and not just in this district."

"Well... though I'm sure the reason my mother finds her acceptable is because of her connections to the Capitol, that's probably more than even she knows."

I laugh. "I have my sources."

"I guess that's also where you took my telephone number from?"

I flush because it is. "Well, you never got to give it to me!"

"Who said I wanted to give it to you in the first place?"

"Peeta..."

"Yes, Katniss..." he says, mimicking my tone.

"There's an empty place at my lunch table tomorrow."