"Nobody is ever going to like you unless you do what we talked about."

That was the last thing Haymitch said to Katniss before she went up on stage to be interviewed by Caesar Flickerman. She glared stony-faced at him, then blinked once and went on the stage. Peeta was trying to be confident in her, but even he was having difficulty.

She had tried very hard to be what Peeta thought was kind for Katniss. She had no reason whatsoever to be kind to anyone; her entire family was dead, she had starved for the last half of her life, and was being forced to be in the Hunger Games. She shouldn't have to be nice to anyone. She wasn't. As nicely as Peeta could put it, Katniss' life sucked. She had been forced to put up with so much and look what she got in return. One thing Peeta could never say, though, was that Katniss ever gave up and cried.

Katniss mounted the stage and made her way over to the chair by Caesar, who looked very at home there. He asked her something but she just stared at the audience. Caesar said, "Katniss?" and she refocused on him. Peeta, Effie, and Haymitch were watching her on a screen backstage, but none so closely as Haymitch. He glared at the TV, willing her to make a mistake, to ruin it for the both of them. Peeta watched tentatively, almost as though he were afraid to look at the screen for fear Katniss would start slaughtering everyone there.

Dazed, Katniss asked, "What?" Caesar, evidently feeling sorry for her, laughed it off and said, "I said hello." Katniss forced a feeble laugh and, her elbow on her knee, waved a hand. "Hi," she said. Caesar laughed, pointed to her sideways, and leaned out to the crowd. "Isn't she adorable?" he asked. The crowd laughed in response and Caesar leaned back, straightening his jacket. "So, Katniss," he said, getting down to business. Katniss tried to look interested in what he was saying, but everyone could tell she just wanted to be out of everyone's vision. "What's your favorite thing about being in the Capitol so far?" Caesar asked conversationally. Katniss, not missing a beat, replied sourly, "Eating."

No one said a word.

Haymitch's head fell into his hands and Effie turned away to dab at her makeup. Peeta saw, reflected in her vanity, that her eyes were closed tight and she appeared to be mumbling. Peeta looked back to the TV.

Caesar didn't take this the way she meant it, or didn't appear to, at least. He turned his head and asked, "What's your favorite food?" Katniss stopped for a moment, thinking, and Haymitch growled, "Don't mess it up!"

Katniss replied, "The lamb stew."

Haymitch's breath whooshed out with a "Thank God," and he let his head fall to his knees.

XOXOXO

Katniss stalked into the bakery, and Peeta fumbled with the bread pan he was holding. He carefully pulled it out of the oven and placed it on the racks to cool, wiping his hands on his apron. Katniss didn't wave or smile at anyone in the shop, but she did nod at Peeta's dad, who had been expecting her and was waiting behind the counter. She had brought Prim with her, and judging by the bulge under the coat Katniss usually wore, she had brought something harvested from the Meadow.

"Hello Katniss, Prim," Mr. Mellark said pleasantly. Katniss nodded and Prim smiled. She looked so much different than her sister. Prim appeared to be something around nine or ten; she hardly cleared Katniss' elbow and had trouble focusing on anything. Her eyes darted to all the things in the shop, to all the people and objects moving outside the windows.

Peeta moved out behind the counter, trying to go unnoticed, as he always did whenever Katniss came in the shop. He grabbed a rag he had stashed under the counter and started to wipe down the counter, pushing handfuls of flour on the floor. Katniss heaved a leather bag on the counter, not paying any attention to the few people around her, and opened it. She spun it around so that Mr. Mellark could pick out the things he was willing to trade for. He almost always took everything.

Peeta watched Katniss from under his curly hair. He thought absentmindly that he would need his hair cut some time soon. Katniss rocked back and forth on her heels, looking over her shoulder every now and then. Peeta was content to watch her. She was so beautiful...

Prim, one arm holding the flaps of her jacket closed, tugged on Katniss' shirt. Katniss looked down to her and asked, "What?" Prim pointed to her belly and then to Mr. Mellark. Katniss stared for a moment and then nodded. She held her hand out and Prim carefully opened the jacket. As if she were extracting a bomb, she pulled out a carton full of huge purple grapes. Katniss took them from her and placed them on the counter. Mr. Mellark cocked his head and Katniss said quietly, "Rasin bread." Mr. Mellark nodded and then said, "Thank you, Prim. Did you help get those?" Prim, beaming wide, shook her head no. Mr. Mellark laughed and went back to the ovens to get their usual trade. This left Peeta on one side of the counter, trying to look busy, while Katniss stood there, waiting. KAtniss did not pay him any attention; she stared at the floor, waiting.

Peeta took this opportunity to try and steady himself. She was just a girl. They hadn't had any contact in nine years, except that day he gave her the bread. She would be worried if she knew how often he thought about that day, how often he wished he could've done more...

Prim trotted over almost directly in front of Peeta, who was slowly wiping the wooden counter in circles. She pressed her face against a dusty glass display that held the few cakes Peeta decorated. She immediately noticed a bright purple one with pink flowers and a curly border. The center was left empty of words and design; Peeta thought it one of his more tasteful.

Prim's nose pushed up like a pig as she stared at the cake. Her eyebrows furrowed. Peeta watched her for a moment, then his eyes returned to Katniss. There were dirt smudges on the sweaty skin of her neck. Peeta sighed.

"Katniss," Prim whispered, so quietly that no one heard. Peeta only knew she did this because the breath that came with the words fogged up the glass. She spoke louder. "Katniss," she said, reluctantly pulling away to grab Katniss' wrist. "Katniss," she said again urgently. Katniss looked down at her and frowned a bit. "What?" she asked quietly. Peeta was still watching them.

"Katniss, can we get that cake for Momma?" Prim asked. Katniss' mouth opened a bit, as if she were struggling for words. She swallowed and her nostrils flared. Prim stared up at her expectantly. She nodded encouragingly. Mr. Mellark came back and placed two loaves of bread on the counter, smiled, though Katniss didn't notice, and returned to the back. Prim tugged a bit on Katniss' wrist, trying to get an answer. "Momma doesn't want cake," Katniss said, shaking her head and turning away.

Prim wouldn't give up. "Can we get it for us, then?" she asked hopefully. Peeta hadn't breathed since Prim said 'mother'. Katniss glared at the floor beside Prim, shook her head sadly, and grabbed up the bread. She looked close to tears. Peeta saw that Katniss rubbed her right hip pocket, where people usually kept their money. Katniss sniffed, composed her face into her usual scowl, and motioned for Prim to follow her. "Not today," she said gruffly.

Not even the sound of loud, rough voices coming in waves from the people outside the open door could mask the sound of Peeta's heart shattering.

Peeta bolted upright in his bed. His sheets were sweaty and his blanket was crumpled on the floor. He let his head fall back, trying to keep from crying. Today was the day he would be forced in the Games. Today was the day Katniss might die. He might lose Katniss today.

He gave another shaky breath, stood up, and made a path directly to the shower. Portia would probably scrub him down herself anyway, but hot water seemed like a very good idea right now.

Peeta stripped, stepped in the shower, and pressed the first appealing button. He was immediately hit in the face with an icy torrent of fruity smelling water. He groaned and stepped out of the water's way. He reached around and pressed another button, and the water turned warm and smelled like roses. He threw up his arms, exasperated. "Now I'll have tributes and bugs after me," he grumbled. Peeta moved forward and leaned into the water, letting it run over his face. He just stood there until the water ran cold again, and then stepped out.

Peeta traded his sweaty shirt for a clean one, pulled on the same pants he'd been wearing before, scrubbed his wet hair with a towel and made his way down the stairs. A few Avoxes lingered here and there, but otherwise no one was out. Peeta took the stairs slowly, hoping that maybe he wouldn't be found there and could go home. But then he started to walk normally again, kicking himself. You can't go home without Katniss, you jerk, he thought angrily.

At the bottom of the stairs there was a blurred glass dor, much like the one on the shower that Katniss had been in. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine his legs in the shower next to her, but he couldn't. Not now. Not when she could be taken away from him forever.

Peeta opened the door and stepped out. HE, apparently, was on a balcony, because he could see over the Capitol all the way to the mountains in which their district was nestled. Haymitch was leaning on the railing, a stout brown bottle in his hand. Peeta walked over to him and leaned on the railing. Haymitch said nothing for a moment, then mumbled, "You should be sleeping."

Haymitch did not appear to be drunk at all. He was in fresh clothes, his hair was combed, and he smelled faintly of Capitol shower. Peeta couldn't imagine he was handling this day very well, either.

Peeta shook his head, turning away. "Nightmares," Peeta explained. Haymitch asked, "The Games?" Peeta shook his head and replied, "Katniss." They were both quiet.

Peeta sighed, his breath coming out in a cloud of fog. It blinded him for a moment. He and Haymitch stood there for a long time, until the fog over the mountains became thinner and then disappeared and the dew on the small squares of manicured grass evaporated. People with blue hair and fluffy pink dogs started to emerge from their houses and the pavement started to sizzle. Haymitch put hand on Peeta's shoulder and then started to walk toward the door. "Time to go," he threw over his shoulder.

Peeta stood up and glanced one last time at the hills where District 12 was, the place he hated with all his heart, and wished he and Katniss could go back there.

So sorry that took so long. I've been really busy with school projects and everything (I have to do 28 hours of community service and I've got, as of now, 6). Plus, unfortunately, I've got PSSA's this week. (Pennsylvania State Student Assesments) Those tests determine whether or not I fail the grade, so... I can't repeat 8th grade. I'm only 13! I can't handle all that again! Lol. Probably no updates for a while, but I'm not promising anything. Lol. So, reviews mean so much, especially the detailed ones where you tell me what you liked. I love those. You know, I have a folder in my e-mail where I save all the reviews. If you wana make that folder, review!
Thank you so much for everything I've gotten so far. Each and every review makes my day. I love you all so much. Review!