I sat on the porch for a good five minutes waiting for Peeta. I tapped out little rhythms on the top of the cupcake box, but none of them sounded right. Then, the door behind me opened and Peeta lumbered over. I scramble to my feet, clutching the box.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself," I answer back. "Do you want to- Um." I stumble over my words embarrassingly before coming up with the right words to ask "Do you want to go somewhere? To talk?" Peeta raises an eyebrow, obviously confused.
"Why?" My stomach drops. I hadn't anticipated that he would question my motives. I find a quick reason in the back of my mind.
"You just look like you needed someone to talk to. Reapings can be rough." I curse myself for the last sentence. "Do you want to go to my house and talk?" Peeta stares at me for a moment before answering.
"Sure." He glances at the box in my hands. "What're those?" I laugh, the first time all day.
"Cupcakes." I lift the lid up to show him. He smiles, just a little bit.
"I frosted those, you know."
"I do. I thought that today's looked especially beautiful." I step off the patio and he follows suit.
We walk the short distance to my house in silence. The house is just as silent as we were. I figure that my father is out, and my mother in a drugged sleep until tomorrow. I gesture for him to sit with me on the couch.
I put the cupcakes down on the table in front of me. "So," I start. "How do you feel about the reaping?" I take one of the cupcakes and begin peeling the paper cup off. He just plays with his hands. I touch his shoulder gently.
"It was a reaping. That's it." I frown, and he frowns back.
"Peeta." I kick my shoes off and cross my legs. I take a deep breath. "I know about Katniss." His face remains stoic, but his eyes betray him for a millisecond. "It was obvious for me, really." He looks down. "I know you're worried about her."
"How did you know?" He asks. I shrug.
"The way your face lit up whenever she was around. Nobody else could make you like that." His face flushes a light pink, but I continue. "You always try to catch her eye." He puts a hand to his face and I quickly add "I'm the only one that notices!" I pick at the cupcake before taking off a bit and eating it. It tastes as good as it looks.
An awkward silence fills the room now that Peeta's secret is out. Peeta stares forward. I alternate from staring at him and the cupcake. I avoid eating the frosting, not wanting to mar how beautiful it is. But I always go back to staring at Peeta. I remember the first time I ever really noticed the looks he gave to Katniss.
She and I were walking together to a class. We weren't talking, just enjoying each other's company. A nagging voice in my head told me to look over, like someone was watching me. I glanced across my shoulder and there he was, with his gaggle of friends. Looking directly at me. A warm flush takes over my face before I realize that it isn't me he's gazing at, it's Katniss. My stomach dropped and I looked away.
I saw him several times afterwards vying for her attention. For a couple of crazy days, I hate Katniss for stealing him away. Of course, I realized that neither of them would've known how much I liked Peeta.
But right now that doesn't matter. We both care for Katniss, and we want her to win. It isn't spoken, but it's obvious. The salute at the reaping confirmed it. I nudge Peeta's arm. "Hey. You should have a cupcake. They're great." I grin, because he of all people should know. He takes a cupcake gingerly and peels the wrapper off.
"Look," I start. "Your secret's safe with me. Swear. But moping around won't help." He looks at me quizzically. "Yes, you were moping. If anything, we need to stick together and show everybody in the district, in the Capitol, in Panem that we aren't mourning for Katniss." Peeta looks down, and it put the cupcake down and take his free hand. "We're waiting. She will come back. She's str-" The television blinks on, the anthem blares, and Peeta almost drops his cupcake.
The recaps of the other reapings play. In District One the tributes, both remarkably attractive, are waving to the crowd and cameras proudly. The same goes for District Two. The boy from two is a huge, hulking mess. The girl from Two seems to grin at the boy for a split second. I squeeze Peeta's hand, which I suddenly remember I'm holding. He returns the gesture. The girl from Five catches my eye. Her fiery hair is like nothing I've ever seen before, besides Darius. She's quiet, but I don't count her out.
I cry out when I see the tributes from Eleven. The girl, Rue, is about the same size as Prim. I begin to wonder if the reapings are set up. The Capitol would probably love to see Prim and Rue become allies. I shiver at the thought and let it go. The boy is as big as Rue is small. It seems almost comical that such a small girl and such a massive boy are the tributes. Then, Twelve. The announcers belittle our small district, claiming us to be 'charming, if not a bit backwards in custom'. I frown. They fall silent when Katniss volunteers. Samwell, the boy, is called with no decorum and barely and commentary. Then, they tell us to tune in later for the parade. The television shuts off.