Chapter 2: Introductions

It was like a scene from a horror movie. The one where the poor boy let's his guard down before being trampled over by the terrifying monster. Lunch went basically the same way, but only mildly as violent.

I placed my tray onto the table and watched as Cato's eyes shifted up and down, repeatedly inspecting my figure; most likely sizing me up, I thought. He had a small grilled sandwich on his plate with a side of linguine, and a bottle of coca cola.

I was so nervous that I had forgotten to take my seat, before I was interrupted by Cashmere's outburst. "Are you just going to stand there? Come on, sit down will you. Everyone this is Peeta. Peeta this is Clove," she started and the small girl with dark hair from my English class smiled back at me before she continued down the line. I took note that Glimmer sat across from Clove, who was currently seated beside Gloss. I recognized Gloss as being the guy who had caught the football this morning in front of the school.

"He's my older brother," Cash chimed, before both smiled their dashing white teeth at one another mockingly. Beside Gloss was Cato, who was still gawking at me like a piece of meat. On his other side stood Marvel, a lean looking guy with a coy smile. He was currently wearing a track & field sweater that was mostly black with red stripes on the shoulders and a raven logo. I watched as he took a large guzzle of his soda before giving the rest of us a quick smile, and then he was gone in a flash.

"Yeah, Marvel's usually always on the go. He's the star javelin thrower for our team. And before you say anything, yes, our school does consider javelin a professional sport," Cashmere said, as she watched me inspect the empty seat beside Cato.

I managed to steal a glance at Cato who had turned to whisper something to Gloss, before the two began laughing loudly. Instead of staring any longer, I lowered my head to inspect what Cashmere had placed on my tray. There was a slightly overcooked bowl of pasta that had mushrooms and cheese layered over it, and a pasty alfredo sauce. On the side were two small dishes: one contained a few friends and one had a piece of garlic bread that was still warm to the touch. I thought I'd better start eating before it got cold; I was interrupted once again however by a flirtatious hand that swept over the small of my back, and watched as Finnick O'Dair strutted down the cafeteria. Even his walk was captivating, I mumbled to myself under my breath.

I turned back to face the others to catch a stone cold glare from Cato, who elbowed Gloss in the side, before they pulled themselves up from their seats and vanished out the side door. I could still see them through the glass wall as Cato began furiously screaming at Gloss – his hands rocking back and forth over his head carelessly. What was his problem?…I thought questioningly, passing a quick glance toward the two boys.

"Don't mind, Cato. He gets like this sometimes. He'll cool down soon," the blonde girl across from me said, as she motioned to the two outside. I just nodded in understanding before lowering myself to my plate, to begin eating. The food was verging on lukewarm and it was as delicious as it first looked. Working in a bakery for a great deal of my life had made me underestimate most foods before actually attempting to try them. If it wasn't presentable, then I wasn't eating it.

Before things could get any better, another girl sat down beside me with a loud clang against the seat. She had black and red hair and a small face. She had a distinctive piercing on her ear that connected with bottom lobe. I didn't have much time to inspect her before she turned to look at me infuriated. "Do you see something you like? Well, don't bother," she said crossly. Turning back to the others she started to complain about a certain boy who she wanted to pummel the next chance she got.

Lunch thankfully ended as quickly as it began. The sound of the school bell gave a warning to students to begin preparing their binders and books for the following class, before a final bell. Cash had made it clear for me to be in class before the final bell, or else I would be in for a nasty lesson on what it meant to be responsible. Cato and Gloss had rejoined the group as the bell had sounded, so I rushed off as to avoid any more unnecessary run-ins with the dashing blonde.

Katniss had once told me that I had a way of luring in the "bad boys" in town, because I wanted a reason to rebel against the strict rules of my parents. I never really passed a second thought over it, until Cato. He had just become the latest in my frequent fascinations with the rebellious jocks.

I wasted no time making my way from lunch to third period because I knew that Katniss and I had that class together. The professor was Mr. Cinna, and Cashmere had told me that he was one of the school's "coolest" teacher's. She mentioned that he would always wear sunglasses during class, no matter the weather outside, and he also taught the fashion class – which Cashmere and Katniss both took as electives this semester. I had a passion for painting, which meant that I was even more excited for this class with Katniss. The curriculum consisted of learning watercolors, pastels, and shading techniques along with several other platforms.

I made my way into the class to see that Katniss had already made her way to the back. She was currently filing through different paintbrushes and adjusting her apron behind her clothes.

"Need some help?" I asked her, before she looked up at me with a smile.

"Peeta! It feels so great to see you here! And to think we have a class together for four months!" she exclaimed as she gleamed at me. She had her hair pulled back into a single piece that rested over the side of her right shoulder. She wore hardly any make-up, I noticed, but I could see a thin streak of black eyeliner under her blue eyes. I closed the distance between us before I grabbed the small fabric string and began tying a knot. "How was your morning?" she asked, breaking the silence between us.

"It was alright. I got a full-tour and an earful from a girl called Cashmere," I said matter-of-factly, until Katniss shot me a worried expression.

"Yeah, she's nice and all, but she hangs out with the wrong crowd," she said, as she motioned for us to take a seat near the middle of the class. I walked over to a black desk that had four chairs around it, each with a distinct portrait of an object or two on them. I chose a seat that had a painting of a variety of fruit: there were red and green apples, purple grapes, a rather-large orange, and a couple bananas. Katniss situated herself beside me. Her chair had a portrait of a blue jay that was picking at some red berries on a branch.

"What do you mean by 'the wrong crowd'?" I asked, before the conversation could move on.

"Well for starters, Cashmere likes to associate herself with the jocks and the cheerleaders. They're pretty arrogant if you ask me," she said simply. She continued when she seen my unwavering expression. "Okay, and besides that they are ridiculously good-looking and each one of them knows it. They think they own these halls," she added. Her expression had gone from calm to hysterical in a matter of seconds. "They sit in the corner of the cafeteria – which obviously has the best view of the rose garden – and they think it entitles them to some sort of respect. Which reminds me…Where were you at lunch? Gale and I were looking all over for you," she asked me, intently staring me down.

I was saved from Katniss' wrath when Mr. Cinna walked into the room. Just as Cash had said: he looked like some bar-crashing rock star with metrosexual clothing and a pair of black shades resting over his eyes. His sunglasses covered most of his face; they were obsidian black with silver trimming that contained a distinctive mockingjay symbol on either side of the frame. He wore a black leather jacket that covered most of his brown t-shirt and super skinny jeans.

"Good afternoon class!" he exclaimed as he made his way from the door toward his desk. "As each of you has probably discovered, there is a unique portrait on each of your chairs. This will be your task for the next two days. Replicate your image as best you can. Feel free to talk or text however much you like," Mr. Cinna finished before adding that he preferred if we called him just "Cinna." I placed the painting of fruit in front of my canvas and gestured for Katniss to pass some of the paint down to my end of the table.

I decided that I wouldn't push our conversation any further, in case she asked any more questions about Cashmere and the others, so instead I decided to ask about Gale. "Speaking of Gale, where is he?" I asked, never taking my eyes off the canvas in front of me. I splattered several colors onto a palette before I started. I decided to focus mostly on the Cornucopia for today since it was the centerpiece of the entire illustration. It was a golden brown color with a wide mouth where the fruit seamlessly poured. I decided to use a mixture of yellows and browns to get the shade just right.

"He has woodshop right now. I believe he's in mathematics with you next period," she responded after a short while. She was so focused on her blue jay that her hair was practically falling into the paint. I managed a low chuckle before pointing it out. She complained that her hair was significantly too long but managed to join me in laughter.

"I haven't seen him in forever, you know," I replied after we managed to pull ourselves together. "I miss him…" I said sadly, a small smile still making its way to my lips.

"Yeah, it's been a while since we all hung out together. Hey! Why don't you come over after your shift at the bakery tonight?" she asked, dropping her paintbrush and focusing on me alone. It was hard to deny that pretty face, so I shook my head in acceptance. She squealed before turning her attention back to her blue jay. It looked more like a plane than it did a bird, but I didn't want to discourage her, so I kept my mouth shut.

The class ended sooner than it had begun, as both Katniss and I rushed to clean off our splattered paintbrushes under warm water. I decided that she could wash them as I folded our aprons and put them on the hanger. Cinna approached me before we could duck out of class unnoticed, remarking that he had never seen such a detailed Cornucopia before. If I remember correctly, he had said, "I think you're version is a thousand times better than the original. Keep up the good work." He smiled before opening the door for Katniss and I, who eagerly rushed off to our lockers.

I had yet to place anything in my locker, since I was unaware that I was given one in the first place. I managed to carry around most of my books for the day, but luckily Katniss showed me to my own on the second level. It was rather spacious, and fit more than all my supplies. I decided that I would leave my sweater here during mathematics, since I was burning up most of the day during my run-ins with Cato.

On the way to our lockers we had passed by Clove and Cato who I noticed had never left each other's side up until the altercation at lunch. He watched me as I walked with my binder in my arms at a casual pace, alongside Katniss. I decided to make conversation in order to ease my nerves. I cleared my throat before I asked:

"So…are those two like…a thing?" I stuttered. It came out a lot worse than I had expected and my voice quivered with each syllable.

"Cato and Clove? God no, they've been friends for years. They come from the same area in town. Their families are pretty rich; both their fathers are stonemasons," Katniss replied. She peeked a glance toward Cato and Clove as she did so, before turning back to me curiously. "Why do you ask?" she continued.

"I have a class with Cato every morning. I just sort of noticed that they're practically inseparable. No reason really," I lied, hoping that Katniss wouldn't catch me being untruthful with her.

"Oh, all right!" she replied, simply.

I made my way to the first floor as quick as I could, hoping to avoid any potential sightings of Cato along my way. He seemed to be everywhere in the school. I secretly enjoyed seeing him, but the way he stared at me so intently was beginning to creep me out a little.

I rounded the corner with my books in my hands only to run into a taller figure, sending my books crashing to the ground. They scattered everywhere as students in the hall who were eagerly rushing to class attempted to avoid trampling them with their feet. I turned back to the tall male to apologize for not looking when I noticed his gleaming eyes and shaggy brown hair.

"Gale!" I said, a little too loudly. A couple of students in the hall gave me a nasty look before turning away shaking their heads. "Katniss told me we had mathematics together, isn't that awesome!" I exclaimed, trying to calm myself down.

"Yeah, I've been waiting for this class all day. Not that math is my strong suit or anything…but I haven't seen you in ages so I was so excited when I found out we had Mr. Beetee for the same class," he replied, his enthusiasm almost as big as my own. He continued to make conversation as he motioned toward the first book that had fallen to the ground. "I heard you and Katniss have art together. Isn't Cinna the bomb?" he joked.

"He's pretty relaxed, I have to say," I replied between fits of laughter. It was going to be a good semester, I thought.

The final bell went off just as Gale and I entered the class. I could see that it was a much smaller class then the art room and nowhere near as decorated. The walls were mostly plain, with a couple posters about algebra here and there. The desks were singular, but the seats looked rather comfy compared to the ones in English and Psychology.

"If I calculated this right, you two must be Peeta Mellark and Gale Hawthorne," Mr. Beetee called out from the other side of the room. He glanced down at his clipboard before looking back up toward us. "Gale, I have you sitting next to Johanna in the fifth row. Peeta," he began as he inspected me. "I have you sitting next to…let's see here…Cato, in the first row over here by the window."

I don't know what sank first: my expression or my heart. I turned to catch a glimpse of the boy sitting in the second row beside an empty seat. I gulped before making any movements toward him. I must have looked terrified, because as I slowly made my way over to him I caught Gale watching me inquisitively. I managed the couple of feet it took before I pulled myself into my seat and rested my books onto the desk.

I wanted to see if he was still staring at me, but I was too afraid to look at him, so instead I watched Mr. Beetee begin writing on the board. We took notes for the better half of the hour until the teacher instructed that we were to each say something about ourselves to the class before we left. Wonderful, I thought. It was even worse when Mr. Beetee said that he would be starting on my side of the room and then making his way over toward where Gale was sitting.

It wasn't long before I was up, so I pulled myself from my seat and looked around at the class in horror. I swept my hands against my pant leg to dry of the sweat that was accumulating since the announcement that we would be speaking aloud, and swallowed a large gulp of air before I said anything.

"My name's Peeta Mellark and I'm 17 years old. It's my first day here at Panem High. I work at my family bakery and I have a passion for art," I said as fast as I possibly could. My voice mustn't have been too audible, because most of the class looked at me curiously before Mr. Beetee signaled that I could take my seat again.

I didn't pay attention to any of the other speakers, before Cato began to talk. I was still recovering from my nerves when I looked up at his towering form. Being this close to him allowed for me to inspect his figure. He had muscular arms, a defined chest, and nice, fit legs that must have resulted from swimming. His voice didn't falter when he started to talk, and I noticed that it was very particular: it wasn't entirely deep, but it was definitely low and manly.

"My name's Cato and I'm 18 years old. I'm the quarterback of the football team and the co-captain of the swimming team. As you can see I have a passion for sports, but I'm also passionate about luxury automobiles and the ladies," he said, as multiple girls started to scream out his name. He turned to look at me before taking his seat.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he said firmly, as he turned to look up at the next speaker.

"You're one to talk, Mr. Ladies Man," I said between clenched teeth. I didn't realize that I had vocalized what I was thinking, and in no time at all Cato had turned to me and gave me a small wink.

What game are you playing at Cato?…I thought to myself.

The bell rang just before reaching Gale, so Mr. Beetee suggested that we would continue tomorrow at the beginning of class. I was so thankful that the day was finally over, but unfortunately I had to make my way to the bakery for a small shift. I hoped that it would go by fast, so that I could meet up with Katniss and Gale and catch up on all the latest gossip.

My dad had left the bakery an hour or two after I got here, so I was left to manage on my own for the rest of the night. I made a tray of chocolate éclairs and strawberry-filled pastries, and set them into the display at the front of the store. It was just about closing time, and Katniss and Gale would be here soon to give me a ride over to the Hawthorne household. I was currently placing a couple of cakes into the fridge for the night, when I heard the bell ring at the register.

I washed my hands off quickly as I shouted to the customer that I would be there shortly. I clenched a towel to dry off my hands and started walking to the front of the bakery. The back of the bakery was where all the magic happened: all the chocolate, berries and whipped toppings were stored back here. The front counter was cut into two. On one side there was the register and the large display of available treats and the other side contained order forms and images for special occasions; events such as birthdays, anniversaries, parties, etc.

I came around the corner to see a young guy with tight clothing and nicely gelled hair. Oh no, I thought, as my eyes crept up toward his face. Please no, please no, please no, I kept repeating under my breath.

"That's no way to treat a customer, Mellarky," the figure spoke. When my eyes locked onto his face, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Finnick.

"Hey! What are you doing here? Can I get something for you?" I gestured to an impressive row of cupcakes, and then to the fresh batch of éclairs and pastries. "These just came out of the oven, and the éclairs are so rich you'll be dying for the whole batch," I said, smiling at Finnick who looked awestruck by the amount of choices.

"I thought I'd stop by and visit my new friend," he said matter-of-factly, before he gave me a flirtatious wink. "I think I'll take one of those cherry pastries, please," he added, before reaching to his pocket.

"No no, that's not necessary. Today's order is on the house," I replied.

"Well in that case, I'll take a coffee, double-double please," Finnick exclaimed.

"Alright, alright. Just not the whole bakery, okay?" I said jokingly.

Before long Finnick had his coffee and his pastry, which was currently situated in a take-home box, and he was heading out the door. He stopped when he got to the handle, and turned back to me. "I have a question for you," he started.

"So that's why you really came," I laughed.

He chuckled a little too, before continuing. "The desserts were just an added bonus…Anyways, don't take this offensively, I just wanted to know: are you into boys?"

His question completely took me off-guard as I leaned into the counter a little too far and the pan I had placed from earlier buckled under the pressure. Before I knew it I had face-planted into the counter. A shriek came from Finnick who rushed back to try and help me.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," I said reassuringly, as I pulled myself together. "The answers yes, Finnick. But tell me one thing before you go: How did you know?"

"Well, to be honest, I seen the way you were staring at Cato in English this morning. You were completely zoned out from me, and I watched your cheeks blush when your eyes made contact," Finnick replied honestly.

"Oh…" I began before he cut me off.

"And…most people recoil when I kiss them," he interrupted. My mind flashed back to English class this morning before I had locked my sights onto Cato. Finnick had kissed my hand, when I thought he wanted a handshake, I recalled.

"Yeah…" I said, but his question had made my mind jumble and I couldn't collect myself enough to manage too many words. "Does that freak you out, or are you cool with—" I managed before being cut off.

"Trust me, we're cool," Finnick replied, a small grin resting itself on his face. "If you don't mind me asking: do you have a crush on Cato?" he said, which took me off-guard once again. Fortunately, I was able to formulate a one-word answer to his question:

"Yes."

During the midst of our intense conversation, I had forgot that Katniss was on her way to pick me up; nor had I heard her step in the room alongside Gale only moments before I confessed my feelings to Finnick.

"I knew it!" Katniss screamed.