Chapter 3

My head spins on the walk back to the Hawthorne home. It seems like a very short distance to work out all that's going on in my mind. I guess I assumed Peeta would go out of his way to pacify me always. I didn't consider that he'd someday grow sick of it and say what he means.

I open the door, and everyone is there now: Gale, his siblings, Hazelle, my mother, Prim. I am among the people who mean the most to me, and still I have to force a smile.

I do feel a little better when I see Gale's smiling face. I set the loaves on the table and take my seat between he and Prim. "How was your day?"

"Oh, you know. Just your average day in the center of the earth. Uneventful."

Everyone giggles a little, and the tension that followed me inside seems to have vanished. We eat rabbit with greens and the rich seeded bread I brought from the bakery. Rory, Prim and Posy chat about a hated teacher at school, and Rory teases Posy about the boy who likes her. "He does not!" she said irreverently.

The lighthearted mood of the kids makes me feel a little bit better. The food is delicious. I couldn't admit this to my mother, of course, but Hazelle's cooking is the best I've ever had… besides the Capitol's obnoxiously elaborate meals, of course.

After dinner, we all help Hazelle clean up. We gather into the living room and play charades, filling the house with laughter. The way our families come together seems to fill the void that's left in both of them. Even though our new house is much larger, we always come over here for supper. It feels more like home.

At 8 o'clock, my mother says she should get to bed, and Gale walks us across town to Victor's Village. My mother and Prim say goodnight and slip inside quietly, leaving us alone.

"Night," He says, leaning in for a kiss. I kiss him back, and he embraces me, deepening the kiss. I pull away and offer him another peck on the lips instead. Any more would be too much for me tonight.

When I'm walking in he says, "Catnip, is everything okay?"

I'm not facing him now, so he doesn't see the expression on my face. But I turn and give him a confident smile. "I've felt a little sick today, that's all."

He kisses my forehead. "Get a good nights sleep, ok?"

"Will do." I smile and walk inside.

On the walk to my room, my mother quietly calls out my name, but I pretend I didn't hear. Maybe she could tell I was upset when I got to Gale's and wants to talk. Maybe she's wondering if I've heard anything new about what's going on in the Capitol. Regardless, I can't talk to anyone tonight. I collapse on the bed, emotionally and physically exhausted.

I fall asleep right away, and eight hours seems to fly by, because I wake up groaning and sleepy. And sick. I just barely make it to the toilet when I feel the bile rising in my throat. The force is powerful and I heave over the bowl, miserable. After I slump back defeated, a face appears at the door.

"Prim," I moan. "I'm fine." I can't stand to worry her, as bad as I feel.

But she says nothing, only gives me a concerned look and slips out of the doorway. A minute later, she comes back with a slim box in her hand. She pulls out a long plastic stick, thicker on one side than the other, and hands it to me.

I'm confused. "What is-" I stammer, and stop when I realize what she's holding.

A pregnancy test.

I quite literally see my life flash before my eyes.

I hadn't even considered the possibility of pregnancy. I'd been so flooded with other worries that the most terrifying idea of all had not even crossed my mind. It will be negative, I assured myself. But I still can't believe my carelessness.

I was aware of how babies were made, wasn't I? I was 17 years old! I cannot reason how precaution never entered my mind that night, nor how I'd not even wondered about it since. Had Peeta? Did he entirely forget this possibility, too? I silently promise I'll never act so foolish again. If I ever even have sex again, I think. So far I'm not sure it seems worth it.

I finally remember that I should say something.

"Prim," my cheeks are flushed and red. "There's no way. Don't worry about that."

"There's no way, Katniss? If there's really no possibility, than I don't want to waste one of moms tests."

I don't say anything.

"Katniss," She says, cocking her head to the right. "Is there a possibility?"

I realize my little sister is talking to me like a mature adult, while I cower and pretend I have no idea what she could mean. I admire her qualities of openness and maturity. It'd be nice if I had either.

So I say, "Yes. It's possible."

Prim exhales, a confirmation of her thoughts. But she doesn't ask who, where, or when, which leaves me feeling relieved. "Alright then. Do you know how to do it?"

"Pee on the stick?"

"Yes," her face is serious, but she smiles a little at my comment. "Then it just takes a couple of minutes for results."

"Ok, Prim. I promise, everything is fine. I'm not pregnant. But I'll take it if it will make you feel better," I say, but I sound more like I'm trying to convince myself than Prim that it's not true. If I stop for a second to count the weeks or analyze my symptoms, I'll be too frozen with fear to even continue. I smile confidently and shut the door.

I urinate clumsily on the stick, and immediately place it flat on the counter. I find Prim in the living room, rubbing Buttercup's chin. She looks up at me for an answer.

"I haven't looked," I admit. "I'm scared."

"I will," she says, and I want to stop her but it seems like I don't have a choice. I don't want to know, that's a certainty. My life simply cannot go on if I'm carrying a child.

Prim comes out of the bathroom. She seems to be moving painstakingly slow as I hear her footsteps coming toward me. When she stops I can't look up.

"Katniss. You're pregnant. That's why you're sick."

My mind feels fuzzy, unable to comprehend what's happening. I've only been awake for 20 minutes, but how drastically my life has changed. How quickly it has become not worth living.

I find myself sliding off the chair, ending up slumped against the wall, defeated. I still feel nauseous, but can't bring myself to walk back to the bathroom. I vomit right there on the floor. When my eyes meet Prim's for just a second, I can see she looks scared. She offers her hand to me and pulls me over to the couch, laying me down and covering a blanket over my shaking body. She appears with a rag and bucket to clean the mess.

After, when she sees that I'm sobbing, I find her wedging in next to me on the couch. She lies behind me with her arm around my waist. Her hands stroke my knotted hair, and I find my convulsing body calm right away. I'm confused and still so tired, emotionally worn down. I think about all my symptoms the last few weeks: nausea, dizziness, fatigue. I'm not a healer like Prim and my mother, but I hate myself for not suspecting this.

Because it came like a brick to the face. Like Prim's name being called in the reaping. The reaping which my child will surely be called in someday, I think to myself bitterly. Like the elevator in the mine, which came up without my father in it. I wish just once in awhile I had the opportunity to prepare for devastating news, but it's always quick and harsh.

I wake up hours later in my bed. My world is shattered again when I open my eyes and remember the pregnancy test. I search the bed for Prim, and when I call out her name softly, she's there.

"Hey, little duck," I smile wearily.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty awful," I say honestly.

"Katniss… do you mind if I ask…"

"Peeta. It's Peeta's."

Prim smiles inadvertently before returning to her solemn expression. I wonder if she'd been fooled like the rest of Panem, if she couldn't help but feel happy that the star-crossed lovers of District 12 were having a child. Then again, if anyone knows me, it is Prim. It's possible she knows things about me that I don't about myself.

"It's ok, Prim. Smile if you want. I won't hold it against you," I say, rubbing her back. It would be unreasonable to expect Prim to be as horrified about what's happening as I am. She's maternal, I'm not. She's not yet entirely jaded; Prim still has hope for the world. After my fathers death, our near starvation and finally, the Games, I do not.

"I'm not exactly. I know you never wanted kids, Katniss. I understand why. It's just when I think of the little baby growing inside of you, I can't help but feel good."

This makes me smile, because Prim is so sweet and loving. No, I won't force her to hate this as much as I do. After all, it's the thought of losing her that made me never want to have children. To never cherish anyone else the same way, because to not love is to not lose. It seemed like my plan had been shattered.

"Are you going to tell him?" She asks.

"I… I haven't thought about it," I reply. It's true. I don't know why, but I can't seem to think about what it would be like to tell Peeta. Could I not tell him? I wonder to myself. Does he have to know?

"You have to tell him, Katniss," Prim says, reading my mind.

"I know."

"Go back to sleep for now?" She offers. "If mom asks, I'll tell her you had a little fever and you're just resting for the day. I'll be here if you need me. Me and Buttercup,"

She smiles devilishly, knowing I hate the cat.

"Thanks little duck. I love you,"

"I love you, too," She says, and shuts the door gently.

This time, it's not nearly as easy to fall asleep, even though I'm still exhausted. I think about telling my mother, Peeta, Gale. Haymitch, Hazelle, even Greasy Sae. On top of having a child growing inside of me, I have to admit to everyone what I did on the train, essentially. Everyone in District 12 has seen the Girl on Fire parading around with Gale, I decide, even though I've tried to be discreet so as not to make them think I was anything but in love with Peeta.

But I also realize how obvious it's been that I've been avoiding him. I bet everyone knows that too. And soon they'll all know that despite dating Gale, I'm carrying Peeta's child. I feel a deep shame course through my body.

Gale. How will I tell him? He doesn't know anything happened on the train, and I never planned to tell him. The last time we kissed in the woods, he had come dangerously close to cupping my breast. The way he kissed me confirmed he wanted more, and soon. He missed me and thought he'd lose me forever. I understood his pace. But after the flood of emotions and confusion on the train, I thought I should wait to sleep with Gale. To be sure I was ready.

Sometimes, he asks about Peeta. I can tell he's a little insecure, a little worried that some of my feelings in the Games were real. I never know what to say because I never figured out how I felt about what happened. I thought eventually, he'd stop asking. And now this.

I suddenly think back to my conversation with Prim. When I said Peeta, she smiled. I realize she was happy I was pregnant with Peeta's child and not Gale's. My face contorts with confusion. She's known Gale for years. He protected her when I couldn't. And since I've been home, we've been eating most of our dinners with his family. Surely, she'd prefer if this baby were Gale's, wouldn't she?

I think again about how Prim knows me better than I know myself. But I don't know what it, or anything, means. After hours of my mind racing, I finally wear it out, and drift off to sleep.