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I knew for weeks now I needed to break up with Delly. But how? When? She would be crushed. I could tell she knew something was wrong, and maybe that's why she avoided me so much after she came back. When I finally had the chance to tell her, I felt like the most selfish human being on the planet. She wanted to know why, I lied. I shouldn't have but somehow the truth seemed so harsh, I couldn't bring myself to tell her. How do we fall so easily out of love? I knew my chances with you were almost non-existent, but I had to try anyway.

I barricaded myself in my room for the rest of the evening. I kept trying to make sense of my meltdown and reflected on what Haymitch said. It was no use, and I just ended up feeling frustrated and lonely.

Gale finally called back 2 hours ago and I apologized vehemently. He didn't make a big deal out of it, for once. He just said he couldn't wait to see me on Friday.

I'm lying in bed, doing nothing, when I hear the front door open. The moment I've been dreading all day is upon me. Peeta's back. I have to face him now, otherwise I'm afraid I'll never be able to. I can feel my cheeks burning up already. I have to squash the uneasiness encircling my heart.

I get out of my room and spot him fumbling around in the refrigerator.

He is serving himself a glass of wine. I sit down in front of him. He offers me one but I refuse. No alcohol for me, no; I need all my head for this. I'm psyching myself up to the task of acting excited about his engagement. I've been practising all night, and I know I can manage something coherent.

"I didn't think you'd be home so early," I admit. At least, not alone, I add inwardly.

"Yeah. Had kind of a rough day that turned into an even rougher night," he chokes and I notice for the first time his eyes are all red and puffy.

I've seen Peeta tired after a long day of work before. I've seen him choking over his own lungs during his nasty cold. This is worst. He looks so broken.

I immediately forget my rehearsed speech and ask, now concerned: "What happened?"

"Delly and I, we… it didn't… we broke up," his big blue eyes are hooded with sadness as he utters the words.

I drop my gaze down to the counter. There is a sudden buzzing sound in my ears. Whoa! He needs to slow down for a second. Is he really telling me he broke up with Delly? Whoa.

"Did she say no?" I ask tactlessly, forgetting I'm not supposed to know.

Argh. Everdeen; you just made this a thousand times more awkward, I scold myself.

"No to what?" His gaze scrutinizes me now.

I squeak, he sighs. He sees right through my carelessness.

"Katniss, I don't know what Annie told you, but I did not ask Delly to marry me." He blushes red. I can see he's deeply uncomfortable.

"Oh, really?" Congrats Everdeen, I think sarcastically, that was definitely a squeal.

"Yeah, it just, it wasn't—

I cut him off: "Maybe you two could still work it out?"

"Well," he starts again, but I don't give him the chance to continue.

"You were such a cute couple," I add awkwardly. Oh, god, just shut up.

I don't know why I'm saying these words. Peeta is clearly confused by my weird behavior too. My tone of voice is detached, like he's telling me about the weather. I pull on my braid hard, hoping it'll bring some sense into me. What's the matter with me? I don't let him place 2 words together.

I take a deep breath and try again: "No, I meant, you don't have to explain it. To me. It's fine. I'm fine." Just stop talking.

I'm babbling. I have never done that before, not once in my life. I just know that this thing with Peeta has gone too far. Haymitch's words echo in my brain: "this boy is hopelessly in love with you." I'm not responsible for their breakup, am I? True, I did the stupidest thing and put my lips to Peeta's, but I was drunk, and it wasn't a real kiss. Nothing happened.

I know it's a blatant lie, if nothing had happened, I wouldn't be feeling like this. Like all of this is my fault, like I screwed up so bad, things will never be right again. I must look pretty disgruntled because Peeta notices it.

"Are you okay?" He asks sweetly, his sadness turning to concern.

It's so like him to think about others when he's the one in crisis. Why can't he just be normal and act oblivious to my feelings right now? Come on, Mellark; cry a bit over your failed relationship and give me some space here.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not good at relationship advice," I finally manage to say normally, biting my lip, looking at my nails like they are the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Don't worry, you're doing fine," he lies to make me feel better.

I'm disgusted with myself. I'm such a bad friend.

"Maybe I should leave you alone a bit, you don't need me babbling right now," I excuse myself quickly, not letting him the chance to disagree.

I know I'm coward. I kissed him not too long ago to get to the bottom of this, but all of the sudden, I don't want to know. I feel like a child who wants to cover her ears not to listen. If Peeta likes me, I'll have to reject him, I'll have to move out, I'll be miserable.

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