A/N: I am so very frustrated with how long this update has taken. Thank you for staying tuned and caring about this story. I absolutely love writing it, but so much in my life has gotten in the way of my clarity and creativity. This chapter doesn't cover much ground, but I needed to post it for progress sake. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you'll stay tuned for all that's ahead.
"We're about to start moving, sir. You'll want to hold on."
The conductor motioned to a metal pivot hand strap that was attached to an overhead guard rail. "The first jolt can come as a surprise."
Peeta almost laughed aloud. Surprise? He'd already had his biggest surprise that morning when he saw Katniss running with all her might to the train station. He could have jumped onto a moving train, and it wouldn't have nearly the same impact.
Since his last conversation with Katniss in their bedroom, Peeta had been preparing to leave – District 12 and her life – as covertly and as quickly as possible. It was the only plan that gave him the best chance at survival: avoid further interaction with the girl he loved – the girl who was his wife – but whose heart belonged to another.
He'd almost pulled off his plan. Then, moments ago, he saw her sprinting to the train station with a wild look in her eyes that he'd only seen once before – a September morning seven months earlier when the ballot in Effie Trinket's hand read Primrose Everdeen. That day, Peeta and all Panem witnessed just how fiercely Katniss Everdeen would fight for someone she loved.
But Peeta wasn't among those she loved. She'd made that painfully clear. She only came to the train station to say 'goodbye.' And that was the absolute last thing Peeta needed. But this was goodbye. And he was standing in the dim, enclosed connector between two passenger cars, inhaling coal dust and diesel fumes so strong he could taste them on his tongue.
The train jerked to a roll, and Peeta briefly shut his eyes, wishing he didn't have to physically feel himself leave the only home he had ever known. But behind his eyes were the faces from the platform – his father and brother, Posy and Hazelle… Katniss. He had no choice but to face his departure with his eyes wide open.
"Sir?" The conductor's eyebrow arched with inquiry.
Peeta shook his head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"We're moving now." The conductor stated matter-of-factly. The corners of his polite smile slowly curved with amusement. "You can proceed to your seat, 8W, just past that sliding door, near the front of the passenger car. You don't have to stay here. You're free to move forward."
The words coursed Peeta's veins, numbing his sorrow like anesthesia.
You don't have to stay here. You're free to move forward. You don't have to stay here. You're free to move forward.
This time when Peeta shut his eyes, he forced himself to see his face and his happiness.
It's time to move forward, he reaffirmed and drew a deep, steadying breath. It's time to forget.
He thanked the conductor, let go of the hand strap, and reached for the sliding door.
In the Mellark household, it was called the 'Rye Why Look.' Whenever Rye was baffled, he would stand with both arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted and eyes squinted, and his lips puckered. Not a sour pucker. More like his bottom lip lifting his top lip toward his nose type of pucker. It was a look of pure mystification that only the middle Mellark son could pull off. Every time Thatch and Peeta tried to imitate him, they would succumb to laughter instead.
Rye assumed his signature look Saturday morning as he watched his sister-in-law sprint from the train station. She ran like something was chasing her, like standing too close to the moving train would take part of her with it.
Midday Friday, after the breakfast rush had subsided, Daniel assembled his wife and sons in the kitchen for an announcement. As Peeta removed his apron and stared at it with downcast eyes, Daniel proudly told everyone that the youngest Mellark had received an amazing job opportunity with the rebuild of Panem that would require him to train for three months in District 2, starting immediately. Peeta would be leaving 12 by train on Saturday morning.
"Peeta told me about this as soon as he decided, and your mother and I give him our blessing."
Nance wrapped her arms tightly across her chest and cast an aggravated glance at the floor.
"We will miss him, but he is safe," Daniel added. "We are all safe, and that's all that matters."
Thatch grinned as he approached Peeta. "That's right. Congrats little bro." He wrapped Peeta in a back-patting hug. "I'm glad one of us can explore the world outside of 12. Natalie has me pinned here for life, but I love every minute of it."
"That's the story you're sticking with, huh," Peeta joked.
"Hell yeah," Thatch said. "I've learned that it's best to stay on a pregnant woman's good side."
They all laughed. Peeta and Rye embraced next.
"Just make sure you or Katniss set me up with one of those victor career hotties. I have a thing for the Cashmere chic, but Enobaria would not be a disappointment."
Peeta ignored the mention of Katniss. His father, Haymitch and Jules were the only ones who knew his relationship with his wife was over.
"Those women would eat you alive," Peeta retorted.
There was more laughter when Rye sighed dreamily and said, "I know."
Peeta thanked his family for their support, apologized for the short notice, and asked them not to mention his departure to anyone since he still needed to "finalize" paperwork. But, in actuality, he didn't want Katniss to find out.
Now it was Saturday morning, and Peeta said his goodbyes to his mother and Thatch and Natalie at the bakery, and his father and Rye accompanied him to the train station. On the way, Peeta told Rye more about the job and its national reach. Rye assumed that Katniss would be meeting them at the train station. So, when he saw her running to the train station – literally like a girl on fire – he thought that she must be late.
But she wasn't dressed for a train ride. And, she had no luggage. Then, Rye overheard their exchange.
"You were just going to leave? Without saying 'goodbye'?"
"I'll always be your friend, Katniss. Always."
What?
Admittedly, Rye wasn't privy to the details of his brother's marriage. Peeta confided in their father, but never in him or Thatch. There was a reason; the brothers once had a big fight concerning their differing take on relationships. And by differing, it was Rye and Thatch's viewpoints versus Peeta's.
As a child, Peeta always tried to keep up with his older brothers, but was often left behind because he was told he was "too young" or "just a baby." When they would spend time with Peeta, it was usually to torment him in the benign way that older brothers do. As a result, Peeta developed independence and his own identity. As they aged, the tormenting stopped, and the three Mellark boys grew closer and held a strong bond.
But there was one area where they didn't connect: relationships. As children, they teased relentlessly about Peeta's love for the girl from the Seam with the dark braids, and Peeta hated it. He soon realized he couldn't go to his immensely popular brothers for advice on how to get Katniss to notice him.
Then, on Peeta's 13th birthday, Rye and Thatch held a 'rite of passage' to educate Peeta on 'The Mellark Method.' They shared, in explicit detail, the three "S's" of the method: how to seduce a girl, have sex with a girl, and separate from a girl without getting your feelings involved. They dubbed themselves 'Mellark men' and said 'Mellark men' didn't fall in love. Relationships were about having fun, avoiding commitment, and exiting the relationship with their 'desirability quotient' still intact.
"Leave 'em wanting you, leave 'em wanting more. That's our mantra," Rye said proudly. "You're 13 now, and you need to know our techniques before you start dating."
But to Peeta, the whole 'Mellark Method' sounded callous and ridiculous. He wasn't the least bit interested in becoming like his brothers who changed girlfriends faster than he could learn their names. It was the one thing about Thatch and Rye he didn't admire. What Peeta said after they'd finished their lecture stunned them.
"No thanks," he shrugged. "I already know who I love, and one day I want to marry her."
Rye's face twisted with disdain. "Marry?! Did you hear a word we just said?! First of all, you're way too young to even want to marry someone much less know who that someone is. And second of all, who is it? We never see you with anyone except Delly, and we know she's just a friend."
"Yeah," Thatch scoffed. "You and Delly have no sexual energy at all – which, by the way is a requirement of the Mellark Method. So, who is it?"
Peeta's eyes shifted to the floor. He wished he hadn't said anything. "Don't worry about it," he mumbled.
"C'mon! Tell us," Thatch chided. Then, his eyes widened in realization. "Wait. Don't tell me it's still whatshername from when we were kids?"
Peeta's eyes flashed to Thatch. "Her name is Katniss," he retorted.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Peet, snap out of it!" Rye exclaimed. "After all these years, you're still hung up on one girl? And she never notices you. You never even speak to her! Now you're saying you love her and you want to marry her?"
"Rye's right," Thatch added. "You've had a hard on for whatshername since forever. It's time to let that go."
Peeta looked injured. Thatch sat beside him and draped an arm around his shoulder.
"Listen, Peet. Girls can be brutal. They can be indecisive and complicated and mean, and they will drag us into their craziness if we lose self-control. Falling in love is losing self-control. That's why I created this method and passed it on to Rye."
"And it works," Rye nodded his approval.
"And now," Thatch continued, "We want to teach it to you so you'll know how to operate as a self-controlled Mellark man. It's what makes us different – well, that and other things, of course," he grinned slyly. "Our goal is maximum enjoyment – for ourselves and our girl. And when it's time to move on to someone else, we know how to make a smooth exit."
"In other words, you trick her into thinking it's all her fault that you two broke up," Peeta concluded. "Just the other day, I saw Hannah – or Anna – or was it Ada? I saw the girl with the curly hair crying to her friends about things being over with Rye, and I overheard you two talking about tricking her into a break up."
"Ah, Anna," Rye said fondly. "She was a wild one. I almost hated for that one to end."
"That's what I mean," Peeta implored. "I'm not like that. I don't want to be with a lot of girls."
"Well, you'd better change your mind because whatshername doesn't even know you're alive," Rye joked and he and Thatch laughed. Peeta pushed Thatch's arm from his shoulder.
"For the last time, her name is Katniss," he said hotly. "Katniss Everdeen. I will speak to her eventually, and one day, I will ask her to marry me. Will she say 'yes'? I don't know if she will or not. But I'm gonna ask her."
"So, you're not even gonna try The Mellark Method?!" Rye argued.
Thatch tried a calmer approach. "Here's the thing, Peet. The three of us are a unit in people's minds. We live together, we work together, we all wrestle. We're brothers. We need solidarity in how we approach relationships or it'll fuck up our entire system. Mellark men don't fall in love, Peet, not for real anyway. It's our thing, and we need you to get on board."
"And," Rye continued, "If you break method and refuse to date other girls because your dick is pointed in Seam girl's direction –"
"Her name is Katniss! And I don't care where she lives!"
"I don't care what the hell her name is or where she lives! You're gonna mess things up for us! Once girls see that one of us can fall in love, they'll expect the same from me and Thatch!"
Thatch lifted his hands in surrender. "Just leave it alone, Rye. Peet needs some time to think it over."
"He's been in love with this girl since he was like 5 years old! He's never had the nerve to speak to her, and he thinks he's going to marry her one day!"
"I'm gonna ask her, Rye. So shut up!"
"Oh yeah?!"
"Yeah!"
"Well good luck with your proposal because when you finally get the balls to ask whatshername to be your wife, she'll be in the middle of bouncing up and down on that guy she's always in the woods with! What do you think they really do out there?"
That did it. Peeta hated the jealousy he harbored for Gale Hawthorne and that Katniss seemed happiest when she was with him. Peeta feared that Gale would claim Katniss before he had the chance. And, in that moment, he took all his anger out on Rye. Before Peeta knew it, he sprung from the bed and hurled his fist at Rye's nose. They fell tussling to the floor.
"Shit! Stop it." Thatch got on the floor to separate them but appeared to be part of the battle when Daniel burst through the door. He pulled them apart and ordered all three to sit on the edge of the bed. He wouldn't hear a word of explanation. It was one of the rare times when Daniel Mellark raised his voice.
"Quiet! I don't want to hear it! Just fix it! You're brothers. I do not condone you boys fighting outside our home, and I will not allow it in my house!" Then Thatch got an even more severe tongue lashing for being the oldest and allowing this to happen.
Peeta and his brothers didn't speak for a little over a week when they finally made amends. But something unspoken was understood among them – there would be no talk of relationships. Thatch and Rye would do their thing, and Peeta would do his.
Years passed and Thatch started dating Natalie Minson. She was the girl who sent his heart into a freefall, the girl who made his Mellark Method unnecessary. On a late June morning, he gave Natalie his last name, and one Mellark man was officially off the market.
Rye continued on his own, vowing to never marry, to never fall in love. At his core, Rye was a pragmatist, and if his parents' tepid relationship was any indication, love was two parts misery and one part tolerance, and he would never commit to that.
Then last year, Peeta was reaped. And that changed everything.
Worst of all, he was reaped with Katniss Everdeen. Rye knew he would have to witness his brother's death in The Hunger Games; there could only be one winner, and he knew Peeta would die to keep Katniss alive.
So. That was love.
For Rye, Reaping Day happened too fast, and he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. He couldn't even bring himself to bid Peeta farewell. Part of it was guilt; he could have volunteered to take his place, but he didn't. He wasn't as brave as Katniss Everdeen, and as his punishment, he would never forget or make fun of her name again. But worst of all, Rye knew Peeta would never marry the girl he always loved, would never get the love he so richly deserved. So Rye had another reason to never marry. Because Peeta would never get the chance.
Then came a miracle. Peeta and Katniss survived. And they were in love.
He must have finally told her how he felt, Rye mused as he watched Katniss and Peeta hold hands and gaze lovingly at one another during Caesar Flickerman's interview with the victors. And when Peeta returned to District 12, Rye hugged him the longest.
Peeta and Katniss were married. Immediately. Rye suspected that Katniss might be pregnant due to the speed of their nuptials, but he never felt he had the right to ask. But when Peeta should have been at this happiest, Rye noticed that Peeta seemed defeated, withdrawn, and distracted by silent thoughts that squeezed his brows. Rye didn't automatically attribute Peeta's sadness to his marriage. After all, his little brother had been in a war and had experienced firsthand all the horrors that most of Panem watched on broadcast screens.
But now, Snow was dead, and Peeta was leaving, and Katniss was running, and they were saying goodbye, and the train was moving, and she was sobbing… And now she was fleeing with the same intensity with which she came.
"Dad?" Rye said, his eyes still squinted on Katniss. "What just happened?"
Daniel watched with a discerning stare. Finally, he exhaled a long, weary sigh. "Well, son. It looks to me like we've just witnessed the most unnecessary break up in history."
There was a tug to the tail of his shirt. He peered into a tiny, heart-shaped face with gray doe eyes.
"Are you Peeta's daddy?"
Daniel squatted to come eye-level with the girl. "I sure am. And this is Peeta's brother, Rye." Rye leaned over and slapped hands with Posy, making her smile. "You must be Posy," Daniel continued.
"Yep," she nodded. "And this is my mommy." Hazelle smiled and exchanged handshakes with Daniel and Rye.
"So," Posy said, her face pinched with curiosity. "What's a break up?"
The sliding door was metal, trimmed with heavy black rubber so it shut soundlessly behind him. For several moments, Peeta stood at the back of the passenger car, taking it all in.
The last train he boarded was opulent, spacious, and modern, splayed with mahogany tables and leather tufted couches and silver fixtures so polished they glowed like candles. But the last train was from President Snow's private fleet, a taste of wealth and privilege for the children he reaped before he forced them to massacre one another with the entire nation watching.
Peeta much preferred this train. Aged and unadorned; rows of burgundy velvet seats that had been worn pink in spots; dull wood armrests that had been etched by previous passengers during moments of boredom. The passenger car was filled with travelers, their heads dotting the tops of almost every seat on either side of the narrow aisle. The last row where he stood – seats 59 A and W to his left and seats 60 A and W to his right – were empty.
I'm guessing 'A' is for aisle seat and 'W' is for window seat. The even numbered rows are to the right. So, I have a window seat ahead on the right. 8W. He started walking and silently counting.
58… 56… 54…
Peeta gripped the edges of the seats for balance as the train steadily gained speed. He noticed that most of the passengers wore variations of the same ash gray uniform. Something about that uniform was oddly familiar.
50… 48… 46…
The travelers in gray started to whisper, the buzz of their voices spreading like wildfire on either side of the aisle. He couldn't hear what they were saying, so he nodded politely at several sets of widened eyes as he passed. Rows ahead, travelers twisted in their seats to get a better look as he approached.
I guess this is what happens when you're late to take your seat, he mused.
38… 36… 34… 32…
A young woman in row 30's aisle seat popped to her feet as Peeta approached. She wore gray, but her lips were the color of pomegranates and the edge of her eyelids were thick with the color of coal. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and blew Peeta a kiss.
Ohh-kay… What's with these people? You know what, nevermind. Just keep walking. You're almost there. 20… 18… 16… 14… 12… 10…
He breathed a sigh of relief that no one was seated in 8A. He slid into the row, to his window seat, sensing several sets of eyes at his back and glimpsing more gazes from travelers in the rows ahead.
But all he wanted to do was sleep. With all he had to do to prepare to leave 12, Peeta hadn't slept the night before. It was a nine-hour ride to District 2. If he could somehow manage to shut out the world for the next several hours, he would wake up in a new city, far from home. He had just shut his eyes and rested his head against the window pane when he felt someone lower into the seat next to his.
Peeta turned to see a man in his early 20s whose wavy brown hair was tapered to the nape of his neck. He was fair complexed with hooded eyes, amber-colored freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose, and a genial though tentative smile. He wore a gray uniform, and a large, black portfolio was tucked underneath his arm.
"Is this seat taken?"
Peeta stifled a groan. He had been the last traveler to take his seat in the entire passenger car, so he knew this guy must have already been seated elsewhere. But Peeta shook his head in response, offering the seat before turning back to the window and shutting his eyes.
His new riding partner didn't take the hint.
"I'm Gaige Logan."
Peeta turned to see the man's hand extended. He returned the handshake.
"Hi. I'm – "
"Peeta Mellark," Gaige answered, excitement mounting his face. "I know. We all know."
Peeta sat up straighter in his seat, unable to hide the wariness from his eyes. "Forgive me; I'm operating on zero sleep. I don't know what you mean."
Gaige's gaze turned perceptive. "I had a feeling you didn't, which is why I came to sit with you. You're probably wondering why all of us in uniform were staring at you when you walked down the aisle, right?"
"Right."
"Please forgive us if we seemed rude. All of us in uniform are from District 13, and we've never seen a victor in person before, not to mention the last male victor of Panem. To us, you're a celebrity."
The thump of her footsteps pounding the earth synced with pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. She could barely see through her tear-blurred eyes, but she knew this path all too well. She'd walked it thousands of times and run it once, her foot bruised in her escape, hoping and praying that Allister wouldn't catch her before she reached Peeta…
Peeta. He left. He's gone.
She didn't know which was more painful – running from the train that carried him away or running to the empty house that had been their home. But she had to get there, to see what he left behind. Peeta never intended to say 'goodbye'; whatever he left for her was meant to speak in his absence.
So, she didn't stop running until she reached his kitchen side door where she collapsed, her legs as limp as wet noodles, her lung pleading for air, her temples throbbing. The door was locked, and she stumbled to each door and twisted each knob. One of them had to be open, she thought. She was at the final door, the back door, when the reality hit her.
Of course they're all locked. He's gone, you idiot! He's gone, and he's never coming back.
She sank to the back-porch steps and snatched the ponytail holder from her hair to relieve her head which seemed to be swelling with pain. Her tangled tresses landed past her shoulders in a disheveled mess.
Wait! I have a key! Where is my house key?
But, her thoughts were scattered. She squeezed her head in her hands to steady her thoughts.
Think, Katniss. You have keys to this house. Where are they? Think… How did you get inside last ni –
"I slept at my mom's house! They're at my mom's house!"
Katniss ambled to Maura's back door and whispered her thanks when it opened. Inside, she pawed her way past the living room, cursing the wall clock whose ticking pulsed in her head. She'd grown accustomed to the silent movements of the clock next door.
Her keys were on the nightstand in the guest bedroom where she slept the night before. The silver key turned the locks at her mother's house, and the bronze key belonged to the Mellark home.
Back at Peeta's kitchen side door, Katniss's hands shook as she tried to insert the key, and the entire set fell to the concrete steps with a clank. Her angst crested, and she erupted with a slew of profanities loud enough to reach the tree line in the distance while she assaulted the door with her fists and feet.
She didn't notice him approaching until he scooped the keys into his hand.
"Here, sweetheart. Let me."
Katniss watched, mute and sheepish, as Haymitch unlocked the door and held it open. He couldn't help but frown at her red-rimmed eyes, her labored breaths, and her jitteriness that made her an emotional wreck.
She had more resolve in the Games.
Despite her haste to get inside the home, Katniss entered with slow, ominous steps. The house wasn't just quiet; it was lifeless behind its drawn blinds. Haymitch waited just inside the door and watched Katniss approach a white cardboard bakery box, neatly tied with red and white striped twine, on the kitchen counter.
The box was large enough to hold an entire sheet cake. It reminded Katniss of her walks past Mellark Bakery with Prim when all they could afford were the delicious smells. Once, Katniss vowed that by Prim's 18th birthday, she would save enough coins to buy a whole strawberry shortcake for her. But secretly, Katniss was always intrigued by the sheet cakes on display and what lay beneath their elegant, sugary frosting. She stared blankly at the bakery box, baffled that she never ordered either cake after she won the Games. She had the money. And until today, she had the baker.
With a sudden burst of energy, she vigorously untied the twine and lifted the lid. Inside, four cheese buns were neatly arranged in one corner, but much of the space in the box was occupied by a large white envelope that wouldn't lie flat. Atop the larger envelope was a smaller, announcement-style gold envelope trimmed in cobalt.
Her heart sank. The smaller envelope was one of the Capitol-issued 'Thank You' cards from her wedding that she never bothered to send. Peeta had written words of appreciation, signed 'Peeta and Katniss Mellark,' and mailed them to Effie's list of Capitol elites who attended their wedding and gave gifts.
She tugged the ivory-colored notecard from the gold and cobalt envelope. Their initials – an elegantly cursive "M" in the middle with a smaller "K" and "P" on either side – were embossed in gold on the front flap. What awaited her inside the card sent her trembling hand to cover her mouth. Haymitch moved closer.
Peeta had sketched her. Her likeness peered from inside the cover with defiant eyes and the hint of a smile. Her braid hung over one shoulder, and behind the opposite shoulder were the winged tips of her arrows.
Warm tears spilled down her cheeks, moistening those that had hardened. His words started on the opposite flap and continued to the back cover. She read aloud with a quivering voice.
Katniss –
My guess is that you'll be in the woods when I leave, so you'll probably get this after I'm gone. I've decided to leave 12 and take the national job in District 2. I'm leaving on Saturday morning so I can get settled and ready for training. Hopefully, my absence will make it easier for you to move forward with the next chapter of your life.
She glanced helplessly at Haymitch before continuing.
I've cleaned the entire house. All the bed linen has been washed and is in the clothes dryer. I have all the clothes I want and need, so you can discard or donate whatever remains in the master bedroom closet. The chest from Effie with wedding photos and gifts are still here, and you can do with them as you like. My father or brothers will come by to pick up the sunset painting and the abstract painting I was working on, which are on the back porch. I also left the music discs so you'll have the songs you liked most. My dad is okay with you keeping them. They are beside the music player in the living room.
I want you to know that I'm grateful for the time we had together and the time I spent as your husband.
Her voice broke, her breathing jerked, and her tears coursed faster. Haymitch rested his hand on her shoulder.
It makes me happy to know that you can finally have the life you want, which is the life you deserve. I've signed off on everything in the big envelope, so you should be all set.
She froze, a look of dread descending on her face as her eyes locked on the larger envelope. Haymitch slid the notecard from her hand and continued reading.
I wish you well on the rebuild of District 12. I know you'll transform this place into something amazing.
Take care of yourself.
Peeta
With a surge of defiance and urgency, Katniss tore into the larger envelope. Her lips moved as she silently read the title. Then, she scrambled to the last page of the document where Peeta had signed and dated.
And Haymitch witnessed the very moment her heart broke. He caught her as she sank to the cool tile floor, her body wracked with sobs. He had no comforting words, so he wrapped his arm around her and guided her head to his shoulder.
They sat that way for hours.
Peeta slowly nodded as the realization dawned. "Everyone in gray is from District 13." That's where I'd seen it before. Alma Coin was wearing that uniform on the video footage of Snow's execution.
"And we all know who you are," Gaige said. "We may have lived underground in 13, but watching The Hunger Games every year was mandatory viewing."
That sounds like one of Snow's mandates, Peeta thought wryly. He listened with fascination as Gaige talked.
"Now that we're a free Panem, there's been a mass exodus from 13. Many of us have dreamt of lives above ground, and now we have our chance to experience it." Gaige's look turned somber. "We were always told to be grateful that we would never be reaped. But the irony was that so many of our children died in the outbreak that we wouldn't have yielded many tributes."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Peeta said quietly. "And I'm sorry you all were made to watch the Games. No one should have to live the way this nation was forced to live for the past 70-something years."
"Well, we owe you and your wife a debt of gratitude," Gaige said. "Nothing would have changed in Panem if it weren't for the last Games. And, I want you to know that the people of 13 are good, hardworking people – for the most part. They're just enamored with you and your wife."
Gaige chuckled as he continued. "Most of our young women started to braid their hair like Katniss's after the reaping. And almost every girl in District 13 wished they were Katniss when you two kissed in the cave." He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I know at least two of these girls – three actually – would try to make you break your vows at some point during this trip."
Peeta blinked in disbelief. When he returned from the Games – aside from the initial round of people who stopped by the bakery to congratulate him on winning and on his marriage – no one from District 12 had treated him or Katniss like celebrities. None of the girls they'd been in school with had shown special interest in him after the Games, and he was fine with that. Katniss was the only girl he wanted.
But the people of District 13 were complete strangers, yet they knew all kinds of details about him and Katniss – and the same was true for everyone in Panem. The realization was unsettling.
Gaige's eyes scanned Peeta. "By the look on your face, I'm guessing you have no idea how popular you are."
Peeta heaved a sigh. "I guess not." He twisted in his seat to face Gaige. "Tell me about your life in 13."
Gaige's face lit up. "I'm a photographer. Well, by trade, I was a cook, but this" he tapped the portfolio, "this is my passion. I even got to photograph our late Commander Coin once. I'm leaving 13 to find work in the daylight – that's what we call life above ground, the daylight. My camera is a little dated, but it still shoots. I plan to get a job as a cook, save enough money to buy a new camera and equipment and start my own business on the side. I will take any photo. I don't care. It's all I want to do."
Peeta smiled at Gaige's enthusiasm. "Do you have photos in there?"
He nodded eagerly. "Yeah. I'll show you." He unzipped the portfolio and carefully handed Peeta a collection of 8x10 black-and-white photographs. Gaige proceeded to tell Peeta the story behind each one – when he took it, how he got the assignment, what he learned while developing the film. However, his work needed no introduction. His images were haunting, powerful, and told their own stories.
One photo was of a boy with yellow-hazel eyes and skin the color of maple. He stood in uniform, his arm erect, his fingers reaching for the branches of a tree. Peeta wondered if it was the boy's first encounter with nature. The entire photo was black and white except for the boy's honeyed eyes and the tree's verdant leaves.
"These are amazing, Gaige. You are really good."
He beamed. "Thanks. They're the best examples of my work, so I keep them with me in my portfolio. My favorite, though, is a portrait of my grandmother. When she finally allowed me to photograph her, she loved it. I left that one in 13."
Peeta's eyes narrowed with his question. "Why didn't you bring it with you?"
"It's part of the promise I made to my grandmother and my parents," Gaige smiled. "Once I establish myself in the daylight, I have to come back to 13 to visit them and let them know I'm doing well. Then, once they know I've made a life for myself and I'm happy, I can get the photo back and keep my grandmother with me wherever I go."
Peeta nodded. He and Gaige were both seeking new lives far from home. The only difference was that Peeta never planned to return.
"What district are you heading to?" Peeta asked.
"I'm going straight to the Capitol." Gaige shrugged. "I know I have high hopes given I'm from 13 and know nothing about life outside of 13, but I couldn't stay where I was at. I had to see what was out here. And what about you – if I may ask? Why are you leaving 12?"
Because there's nothing left for me in 12. Because I can't stay and watch her love someone else.
"I'm going for training to help rebuild Panem," Peeta said. "My job will be creating youth centers." Peeta launched into the same speech Julianna had given him about the need to redirect Panem's youth now that the Games were defunct.
"Wow. That sounds great," Gaige said with equal admiration. "Will you build a youth center in 13?"
Peeta's brow furrowed. "I honestly don't know. I didn't know District 13 existed until two days ago. Tell me more about District 13. What is life like there?"
Gaige began to talk about the measured lifestyle underground, the emphasis on discipline and rationing. He talked about their arms being stamped with their daily schedule, and the drab walls that the youth of every generation detested after seeing vivid images of fluorescent-colored Capitol citizens. To Peeta, it sounded like an underground prison.
"So, what are your thoughts?" Peeta asked. "I know you said there aren't many young people in 13, but for those who are there, what are their needs? How can the new Panem help them lead better lives?"
"Bring them to the daylight," Gaige said without a moment's hesitation. "My parents, my grandmother, so many of our older residents have been in 13 so long that they're scared to leave. They are afraid of what is above ground. The few children we do have will be steeped in that fear now that so many of us young adults are leaving. But our children need exposure. We lived underground because we had to. We have a choice now. They have a choice now. Our lives can change for the better."
Peeta nodded. "And if there's one thing that I've learned thus far it's that sometimes change is necessary."
Gaige also nodded, a smile spreading across his lips. "Very necessary."
Early Saturday morning, before the darkened sky yielded to sunlight, Gale reported to the mines. After clocking in and gathering their tool belts, he and the other miners headed to the elevators that lowered them three or more stories down to the man trip, the segmented rail car used to transport men deep into the earth.
Normally, Gale was near the middle of the row of miners filing to the man trip. He usually sat in one of the middle cars, sharing it with Thom and Riles and Blanding and a few other miners he had developed camaraderie with over the years. The ride was clamorous, the incessant clack of the rails clashing with the earth's sonorous groans. Still, most of the miners shouted above the noise during the hour-plus ride, griping about things above ground or sharing off-color jokes that could only be spoken below.
But Saturday morning, just like the day before, Gale needed to be alone. So much was unsettled in his life, and he was growing impatient for resolutions. And even though he lay awake on Thom's couch most nights, there was never enough time to think. So, Gale waited for the end of the line and climbed into the last car, next to a potbellied miner named Earl who was always asleep and snoring three minutes into the ride to the underground worksite.
First, there was the unresolved issue of housing for his family. Finding them a place to live and getting them out of Victor's Village was his first priority. He hated that his brothers were wearing Peeta's hand-me-down clothes and that they all were dependent on generosity of others.
Next, there was the prospect of new employment, which should have been exciting. But, he had begun to worry that his fight with Peeta could threaten his opportunity. Haymitch and Beetee Latier were good friends, and despite Haymitch's anger at both him and Peeta after the fight, Gale knew that Haymitch would side with Peeta when relaying details of the fight. Still, Gale planned to submit a leave request for Monday so he could arrive early to the Justice Building to meet with Beetee. Hopefully, a national-salaried job was still on the table. In District 12, the only people on a national salary were Hunger Games victors. If all went well, Gale could resign from mining, and he could easily support his family – even if he was paid at the lowest end of the national salary scale. But none of that could be resolved until Monday.
And then there was her. The girl forced to take the baker's last name. The girl Gale wanted for his own.
Much of Gale's insomnia on Thom's couch was due to what Maura said that day in Haymitch's house after the fight.
She loves one of you. She told me so.
Gale shut his eyes as his body swayed with the movement of the man trip and saw Katniss at the brook, wiping tears, accepting his bow and arrow and a salty piece of dried meat. He told her he would accept her decision – whether it was him or Peeta. But with each passing moment since he uttered those words, Gale could only accept one outcome.
It has to be me she loves. I mean, she said she was in love with him, but that doesn't mean she loves him. Being in love counts for nothing. That farce of a marriage to Peeta has confused her, but she has to see that we belong together. That she belongs with me.
For the rest of the ride, Gale wracked his mind for telltale signs of Katniss's choice. Did Maura stare at him longer than Peeta when she said it? Did Katniss not want to break the bad news to him when he found her in the woods after the fight? Or, maybe she was only crying because she trusted Peeta and he betrayed her – after all, they were allies in a death match. And she could have said then, before Gale left her in the woods that she loved Peeta. But she didn't.
Gale had come to a conclusion by the time he reached the worksite.
Hunger Games or no Hunger Games, nothing can replace the years Katniss and I spent together, surviving, feeding our families, being there for one another. She can't throw all that away, not when Snow is dead and we're finally free. We belong together, and –
"Hey Hawthorne!"
Gale turned to see Jimmy Burman, one of the older foremen approaching with his uneven gait. It was as if Jimmy had legs from two different bodies, one long and one noticeably shorter when he walked. Jimmy was what Emory Hawthorne called 'a good soul,' and if it hadn't been for severe inflammation in his right hip five years ago, he would have met the same fate as Emory and James Everdeen and several other miners on that fateful day.
Jimmy held a clipboard. "Son," he said in his high-pitched, scratchy voice. "Can you work a full-shift today plus three hours' overtime, just like Friday? Pay is time and a half, same as yesterday."
Gale didn't hesitate to accept. He couldn't turn down the money, despite what he hoped would come from his meeting with Beetee. However, the longer shift meant that for a second day, he would miss whatever remained of the clean-up at the site of his destroyed home in the Seam, he wouldn't see his family, and, he would miss his shift at the Justice Building. But his mother would be there. And, she would probably take Rory to help.
Gale nodded. "I can do it."
"And we have the same shift with overtime available for Sunday."
"I'll take it."
"Great. I'm happy that son of a bitch Snow is dead, but I'll be damned if closing on Thursday didn't set us back a shitload."'
"Well, I can really use the money, Jimmy, so thanks."
Jimmy mumbled something irreverent about a miner's pay and tottered away. Gale called after him.
"Jimmy. Could you ask someone in the front office to get word to my mother that I'm taking a full shift with overtime – just like yesterday?"
"Already on it."
"Oh, and I need to take my annual day on Monday, all day. To handle some personal business."
"Got it," Jimmy said, waving a hand dismissively in the air as he waddled off. "I wish I could take every day off from this hell hole."
Gale grinned because miners like Jimmy made the workday tolerable. But if all went well on Monday, Gale's days as a miner would soon be over, and every unsettled issue in his life would be resolved – except for one.
I've got to see Katniss on Monday, he decided. The longer she stays with Peeta, the more he will manipulate her. And I've got to hear it from her lips. I've got to know it's me she loves.
Hours had passed when Katniss slowly rolled to her knees, pulled herself to her feet, and shuffled to the stairs. "I'm gonna lie down," she mumbled.
Haymitch lifted himself from the floor. "Have you eaten?"
"No."
"You should eat something. Get some food in your system."
"I'm not hungry." She was almost out of view.
"Are you going to be okay, Katniss?"
His words stopped her because he never called her by her name. She glanced over her shoulder with the look of a convict accepting her fate.
"I'll never be okay," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "But I'll survive. I always find a way to survive."
Peeta and Gaige talked for another two hours, and then Peeta slept for nearly four hours.
He woke to hear Gaige whispering in a heated exchange with a girl in gray uniform who was crouching beside his seat and holding onto the arm rail for balance. It was the same girl who blew the kiss when Peeta walked down the aisle to his seat. Now, her hair was braided over one shoulder. Peeta quickly shut his eyes.
"No! Leave him alone. You mean him no good."
"Shut up, Gaige," she hissed. "I saw you jump up to sit next to him just as I was approaching. The least you can do is introduce us." She cocked an eyebrow. "I'll do the rest."
"He's married, Susannah. I know that didn't matter to you in 13, but you can't live that way in the daylight."
"Well where is his wife?" She whispered with equal fury. "Hell, where is his wedding ring? If he were my husband, I'd never let him out of my sight, much less let him travel across Panem without me and without the symbol of our union."
Peeta's mind raced. He had placed his wedding ring at the back of one of his kitchen drawers in the pre-dawn hours while he waited for Posy's cake to cool. He meant to concoct a reason for not wearing it, but he thought he could at least make the train ride without anyone noticing.
"Just go away. I'm serious, Susannah! You mean him no good, and if I did introduce you, I would tell him about the kind of person you are."
"Fine," she spat. "I'll talk to him myself when we get to the Capitol. I don't need you." She huffed with indignation as she made her way back down the aisle.
"A friend of yours?"
Gaige startled at Peeta's voice. His eyelids opened.
"I'm sorry about that, Peeta." Gaige sighed with frustration. "I've known Susannah all my life. She's underhanded and disloyal. Trust me, she doesn't just want to say a neighborly 'hello.'"
"Well, thanks for that. Like you said, I am a married man." Peeta turned his gaze to the window. No one needed to know – at least not yet – that Panem's star-crossed lovers were no more. His mind flashed back to the sight of Katniss running to get to him at the train station.
She was there to say 'goodbye.' Not 'can we talk things over' or 'I want you in my life.' Just… 'goodbye.' It was just that easy for her to let go.
"Peeta?"
"Uh, sorry, Gaige. What did you say?"
Gaige motioned toward Peeta's hand. "You don't wear your wedding ring?"
Peeta shrugged, trying to appear casual as he put his newfound explanation into words. "Our rings came from President Snow's regime, so we've decided to no longer use them as a symbol of our relationship."
"That makes sense," Gaige agreed. But he sensed a guilelessness in Peeta, a willingness to trust people's motives and intentions. After considering his words, he decided to speak up.
"Peeta… You're only a few years younger than me. And I know you've had some harrowing life experiences that I could never imagine. But can I give you some unsolicited advice?"
"Sure," Peeta shrugged.
Gaige chose his words carefully. "You are a brave, strong, attractive guy with a great personality and a good head on your shoulders. But don't forget that you're also incredibly rich. And everyone knows it. Be very careful of people, Peeta. Make them prove themselves. I'm not suggesting that you become paranoid, but take nothing at face value. Remember that you've got more to lose than they do, no matter where they're from."
Gaige's words turned in Peeta's chest. Suddenly, he felt wholly unprepared for what was ahead, just like he felt when he was on stage at the Capitol, trying to charm the crowds in hopes of sparing his life in the Hunger Games. But just like the Games, there were no loyalties outside the arena. Everyone played their own game.
He thanked Gaige for the advice, but secretly, he was already missing home.
After another hour, Gaige and everyone in gray uniform in the passenger car got off the train in the Capitol. Gaige and Peeta shook hands and parted as friends. Susannah kept glancing over her shoulder at Peeta as she was forced down the aisle of disembarking passengers, dismayed that he was not getting off in the Capitol.
Peeta felt infinitely grateful that Gaige decided to sit with him; otherwise, he would have had seven hours of Susannah.
Now, seat 8A was empty. Peeta was alone with thoughts that echoed Gaige's admonition.
He was right, Peeta told himself. I have to stay guarded. I'm no longer in District 12 where people had their pride even if they had nothing else. I need to focus on work and keep to myself. Make people earn my trust over time. Over a very long time. Stay guarded and stay focused. That's my plan.
Two hours remained of his trip. Districts 2, 7, and 4 were on the other side of the Capitol, and with the time change, it was only 11 a.m. It was 3 p.m., back home. Peeta decided to stay awake for the last leg of his trip, wary of being recognized while asleep. But as soon as the train started to move, his eyelids shut and his head rested against the window pane.
He was still asleep when the train pulled into the District 2 station. She saw him from the platform and asked the conductor to allow her to retrieve a sleeping passenger.
Peeta didn't respond to her voice, so she gently shook his forearm.
"Peeta. Peeta."
Her voice was a paradox – calming like a sedative yet spirited with notes of confidence and amusement. He groggily lifted his head and opened his eyes to a stunning shade of hazel green eyes that he'd first seen in Haymitch's control room.
"Oh." He quickly sat up in his chair, his eyes locked on a smile that arrested him. And before he could stop himself, his mind told him that she was even more beautiful in person.
"Hi Peeta," she said softly. "I'm Jules. Welcome to District 2."
A/N: I intended for this to be a much (much) longer chapter, and that part is already in the works. I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though much ground was not covered. I will do my very best to update soon. Thanks for being patient with me and for staying tuned. Comments are welcome!