~Chapter 2~

A/N: Sorry y'all, it just so happens that I forgot to put an Author's Note at the beginning of the first chapter! I'm sorry about that! So, I don't own the Hunger Games or any of its characters except Maysilee (Mellark; I don't own Maysilee Donner) and some characters that will enter the story in later chapters. I hope y'all enjoy this little installment, and I will have the next one up soon! In case y'all are wondering, I've been having a little trouble getting Jabberjay uploaded on fanfic. I keep typing it up on my iPod, then I go to my email on my computer, and upload it from my notes folder, but it isn't wanting to upload…. Any tips? Anyway, read and review please! Enjoy!

I wake up on Sunday morning to the sweet fragrance of cake wafting in the air in gentle waves. I get out of bed and quietly open the door to Maysilee's room to check on her. She is sleeping soundly in her crib, which she won't be using much longer. She's getting to old to sleep in a crib, I know, but I don't want my little baby to grow up.

Today she'll be three years old. The time has passed so quickly since the day she was born.

I pad down the hall to the kitchen, where I see a perfect vanilla cake in the oven and French Toast cooking in the pan.

"Yum," I say, surprising Peeta. I can arrive anywhere more quiet than anyone you can imagine. Except for one person...

'No. Stop it, Katniss! Stop!' the voice in the back of my head begs frantically, but I've already started.

Gale. The only person I know that can creep up behind you and you'd never know until he speaks. Gale. Who could set a snare so perfectly with those gentle fingers that could kill an animal without blinking an eye. Gale. Who is so great with weapons that he actually managed to kill my sister. Gale. My hunting partner. My best friend.

Sure, I still hunt without him, but is there a part of me that still wishes that he was right behind me, protecting me; a part of me that wishes he was here right now? Sure, I don't have to hunt since Peeta and I have money, but do I do it because there's some side of me that needs a part of him to hold on to?

No. Of course not. I have Peeta now. Although I have long since forgiven Gale for killing my sister, I have not forgiven him for abandoning me in my worst time of need. I don't need him at all.

"Katniss, can you grab the icing out of the pantry?" I jerk up from where I'd slumped over, leaning my head on my fists while sitting on the bar stool, but too fast. He's walking over before I can stop him. "Honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," I reassure him. He pats my back lovingly and walks back over to the stove, where he butters the French Toast.

At the pantry, I take a moment to let any emotion cross my face that I need to let go of before going back to Peeta. There's no need to worry him about things that don't matter. So I make an oath to myself. I will never think of Gale Hawthorne again. Ever. Not even if he is standing right in front of me.

I let go completely, then walk back to Peeta, who has breakfast on the table and Maysi in his lap, eating hers hungrily.

"Mornin' momma," she chirps in her high pitch voice.

"Happy Birthday, sweetie!" I say, walking over and picking her up. I kiss her lightly and smile down at her. She smiles back.

"Thank you, mommy." Her voice, like soft bells, rings sweet in my ears and I forget all about the morning's occurrences. "I love you." She plants a kiss right on my cheek and wriggles out of my grasp. "Now I kiss daddy!" she declares, running over to Peeta, who crouches down and opens his arms for her. She stumbles when she hits his solid chest but he catches her and hugs her tight.

The sight of them, father and daughter, the little girl being tightly held in the man's arms brings a smile to my face. This moment, it's so familiar to me. I recognize it as the exact same way my father used to hold me every single every before his death.

I decide, after Maysilee eats her breakfast, that we should get her dressed for her birthday party. "Maysi, we've got to get you dressed. Come on," I say, waving her towards me. She grabs my hand as tight as she can and we head off toward her bedroom.

"I want to wear pretty dress!" she says happily, skipping to the closet.

"Well, I bought you a pretty new dress. Do you want to see?"

"Yes! Yes!" she exclaims, catching my heart and squeezing it tight with love for my daughter.

"Alright," I say, taking the dress from its hanger and showing it to her. It's an adorable little dress, really. Light pink with a hot pink ribbon over her heart, and ruffles over the bottom half, which starts at her stomach.

"Mommy!" she gasps, staring at it. "It's so pretty..." she whispers. She looks up at me, her eyes tearing ever so slightly, and says, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetie," I reply. Soon enough, she's dressed and ready, which is good since the guests are already arriving.

When she walks in the living room with me, dressed in a plain, spaghetti strap black dress that comes above my knees and shapes my figure expertly, everyone stops and stares.

Maysilee runs over to my mother, who stands in the doorway hesitantly. She hasn't ever been to our house to visit us, we have always come to hers. She seems almost scared now, as if the district will eat her alive.

She hugs Maysi and picks her up. Over the years, her hair has turned darker in some sections, making her seem more like an old mother than a grandmother.

"Hello, my girls," she says, obviously feeling uncomfortable in the living room filled with people. Delly Cartwright, Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta (or Odair since she married Finnick), Tommy Odair (Annie and Finnick's son that is two years older than Maysilee), Haymitch, and Effie stand around talking amongst themselves and to Peeta.

"Hey, mom," I say, hugging her with the one arm that isn't holding Maysi on my hip.

"Nice party," she comments.

"Thanks."

She then excuses herself to the bathroom. We eat cake an hour later after everyone has talked and everything, though the only thing that shuts up this rowdy group is singing Happy Birthday. We open presents, and then Tommy and Maysi play Scrabble on the couch, frequently getting tiny wooden pieces in between the cushions.

I excuse myself for a minute to use the bathroom. I walk upstairs to use the one in me and Peeta's bedroom so that I can freshen up my lipstick, too. I am just zipping my dress back up when I hear the doorbell ring. I didn't think I invited anyone else, but maybe I was wrong. 'Peeta will get it,' I think. I finish zipping the dress and doing my lipstick, taking my time.

When I open the bathroom door, I hear an eerie silence downstairs, except for the occasional gasp or the muffled words of two people talking. I walk down the stairs. The sound of my flat black boots clanking against the wooden stairs would be silent if the room were loud, but in the silence they echo against the walls, and everyone turns around to see.

I am just rounding the corner of the hallway into the living room, redoing my hair into its former side ponytail against my neck when I begin to speak. "Peeta, who's at the do-"

I stop in my tracks as I stand in the middle of the wide entrance of the living room, and stare into the eyes of Gale Hawthorne.

A/N: So… how did y'all like it? Review this story please! You guys have absolutely no idea how much it means to me to read reviews and comments on my work! It warms my heart and melts my soul, lol! Anyway, so I do accept constructive criticism as well as compliments, of course, so feel free! Need longer chapters? Review. Need longer paragraphs? Review. Need better adjectives? Review. Like it the way it is? Double times review! Thanks for all your help and support on this story, and I hope you enjoy it in the weeks of writing and reading to come! Enjoy, and may the odds be ever in your favor!