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Laurel is fascinated with Peeta. She has the same conversation with him, over and over again. It goes a little something like this:
"What's your name?"
"I'm Peeta. You're Laurel."
"Do you work here?"
"Yeah, I run the bakery."
"How do you know my mommy?"
"We went to school together and she trades with me."
"Do you like her?"
"She's my friend."
"But do you like like her?"
"I don't you, do you?"
"She's my mommy, silly!"
And then the questions stop. The conversation happens at least ten times. I mouth apologies to Peeta as often as I can, but he just shakes his head and smiles. I can't help but notices that Peeta communicates with Laurel so much better than Gale does.
After the meal, Peeta and I do the dishes while Laurel tires herself out, running around and yelling at the top of her lungs. I try to shush her, but Peeta tells her to keep going. When I glare at him, he shrugs. "She's funny."
"Try living with her," I say.
"Touche," he laughs.
Laurel finally tires herself out enough to fall asleep. She's in a big reclining chair and she looks so tiny in it. "She looks exactly like you," Peeta says, coming up behind me. I jump.
"How unfortunate for her," I say softly.
"Really?" he says. "I think she's damn lucky to look like you."
I blush again. He goes to the kitchen and pours two glasses of juice. Then, he motions for me to follow him. He takes me out onto a balcony overlooking the town. He sets the juice on a table and tells me to sit in one of the chairs. I do as he says and he sits next to me. "She'll be alright in there by herself, right?"
"She'll be fine," I say. "If she wakes up she'll find us pretty easily."
Peeta smiles. "This is where I go in the evenings," he says. "I mean, in the horrible winter months I don't come out here, but . . . yeah."
"It's nice," I say honestly. "We don't have anything like this in the Seam."
"One of the few good things about the town is the two story buildings," Peeta says. "You can see everything."
"One of the few good things?" I say. "There's nothing good about the Seam."
"Oh, c'mon," he says. "Everyone here's all about the gossip. Who married who, who's cheating on who, who slept with who. The Seam doesn't have that."
"Yeah, but you have air-conditioning, indoor plumbing, and, oh, yeah, food," I say. He laughs.
"You have love there," he says softly. "Love is something the town is sorely lacking in."
"What would you rather have?" I ask. "Love or food?"
"Love," he says. "You?"
"Food," I say.
"You're just saying that because you have Laurel to look out for," Peeta says. "Everyone wants love."
"Not me," I say.
"C'mon."
"Gale asked me to marry him and I said no," I blurt out. Peeta's taken aback.
"Did you really love him?" he asks.
I cringe. "You don't really know the story of how Laurel came to be, do you."
"I get the logistics of how she physically came to be, Katniss," he says sarcastically. "I'm twenty one years old, you know."
Oh. So he's at least ten months older than me.
"Gale and I weren't even dating," I say. "He actually loved me and I was . . . curious, I guess. I didn't think my curiosity would land me with a baby."
"But you love her more than anything," he says. "I've only seen you like that with one other person."
"Prim?" I say.
"Yep," he laughs. "You're a good mom, Katniss. Laurel adores you. But she doesn't seem too fond of her stepmother."
"That makes two of us," I laugh. "She's a horrible woman."
"Amelia was always nice when we were kids," Peeta points out.
"Yes, but I had a child with her husband," I say. "That sort of . . . you know, makes a girl angry."
"I wouldn't be a jerk to Gale if you and I got married," he says easily. I shift uncomfortably at the thought of marrying Peeta. "Not that I want to marry you, or anything. I mean, that wouldn't be a horrible thing, to marry you, it'd be great, actually, but, you know . . . I'm just going to shut up."
It'd be great to marry me? Shit, I think. What the hell do I say to that?
"I don't know what to say."
"Just be honest," he says, cringing.
"I don't think it would be a horrible thing to marry you, either," I say. Wait, what?
Did I really just say that? Oh, brother. This is why I speak with my brain and not my heart. Because when I speak with my heart, I speak with my emotions. And emotions are for girly-girls, the girls who actually want to get married someday.
He smiles widely. "You know what Laurel was asking me, about like-liking you?"
"Yeah," I say.
"I do," he says. "I do like-like you. I like-like you a lot, actually. I have since . . . forever."
I turn to look at him for a long time. "This is when you say you like me back," he offers.
I laugh. Do I like Peeta Mellark? It's obvious that I'm attracted to him. Does attraction equal liking him? I suppose it does. "I . . . I like you back."
He sighs in relief. "Can I take you out Friday night? We can go to dinner and maybe see a movie."
Oh, Lord, I think. My first date. "I drop Laurel off at Gale's at six," I say.
"I'll pick you up at seven, then," he says. He sits for a long time. "And Katniss?"
"Yeah?" I say.
"Thanks for the squirrel."
Peeta walks Laurel and I home. He carries Laurel the entire way and she doesn't wake up at all. When we arrive, he comes inside and drops her off in her bed.
"I'd offer you something but I don't really have anything," I say, embarrassed.
"No, you're fine," he says, looking around. "This is a really nice place you have, Katniss. It's homey."
"Don't lie to me," I say, walking into the kitchen.
"I'm not lying," he replies. "I like it."
"Thank you, then," I say. He smiles.
"So, seven o'clock on Friday?" he says. "We still on?"
"Definitely," I say.
He smiles even wider. "I should get going, I have to get up early tomorrow. I had a great time tonight."
"Us too," I say. "Thanks for inviting us over."
"Thanks for the squirrel," he repeats. I smile.
"Goodnight, Peeta," I say. He touches my arm and walks out the door. I feel his touch linger and somewhere, deep down, I long for him to touch me again. But I push the thought out of my brain. I lock all the doors and head into my room. I go to bed, thinking about Peeta Mellark.
I head to Gale's at five forty five on Friday. I hope to God Amelia's not home, because if she is, I will physically kick her pregnant ass into next week. Telling my daughter that her father isn't really her father isn't going to fly with me. No, Amelia woke up the mama bear in me.
When I knock on the door, Gale answers. He smiles at me and Laurel. "Hey, ladies," he says, grabbing Laurel from me. "How are you, Katniss?"
"Good. Yourself?"
"I'm doing alright," he says. "Did she behave alright this week?"
"She was great," I say. "Gale, can I talk to you?"
"Um, sure," he says, stepping outside and closing the door after he set Laurel down inside. She runs off to find Amelia. "What's going on?"
"Can I be blunt?"
"You're always blunt," he says.
I roll my eyes. "Your wife told my daughter that you weren't her father."
He looks at me in disbelief. "Katniss, she wouldn't do such a thing, she's a good lady–"
"Really?" I say. "She's a good lady? I hear she yells at you and Laurel, a lot."
"She's pregnant, it's hormones," he says.
"I was pregnant once, Gale," I say. "And I wasn't yelling at everyone and telling random kids that their father really wasn't their father."
"Laurel's not a random kid to her, she's her stepdaughter, for crying out loud!" Gale shouts. "Katniss, this is ridiculous. Amelia's a good person."
"You deserve better, Gale," I say. "You deserve better and you know it."
"What, like you?" he scoffs. "You had your shot, Katniss, and you turned me down. If you've changed your mind, it's too damn late."
I look at him in disbelief. "No, you moron!" I shout. "I'll never want to marry you!" I lower my voice. "In fact, I have a date tonight."
He laughs out loud. I'm offended at his reaction. "What is so funny?"
"You have a date?" he laughs, doubling over. "Oh my God, Katniss, that's the funniest thing I've heard all week."
"I do have a date!" I say.
"With who?" Gale asks as his laughing subsides.
"Peeta Mellark," I say.
"The baker?" Gale asks. "The one every girl in District 12 fawns over?"
"The very one," I say haughtily.
He laughs again, doubling over. "C'mon, Katniss, stop lying to me."
"I'm not lying to you!" I say, annoyed. "He asked me out and I said yes. He's a nice guy and Laurel likes him a lot."
That stops his laughing. "Laurel likes him?"
"Yes."
"Katniss, I thought we agreed we'd keep boyfriends and girlfriends out of her life until we were thinking about marriage," he says sternly.
"He's the freakin' baker, Gale," I say. "Everyone knows him. She's liked him her entire life."
He rolls his eyes. "Laurel didn't know Amelia until we were engaged, you know."
"Gale," I say slowly. "I will go on my dates on the weekends, just like you went on dates during the week. Understand?"
He sighs. "I understand. But if this Mellark guy fucks with Laurel, or with you, for that matter, he's dead, okay?"
"Why do you care about me anymore?" I say.
"Because you were my best friend once," he says. "And you're my baby mama. I've got to look out for you, right?"
"Did you just call me your baby mama?" I say. "Oh my God."
He laughs. "I better get inside," he says. "Have fun tonight, alright?"
"I will." As I'm walking down the driveway, he calls my name.
"Don't forget to wear protection!" he shouts. "You've already made that mistake once!"
"Shut up!" I shout back at him, but even I have to admit that it was funny.
I borrow one of my mother's dresses for the evening and Prim does my hair. I wear a tiny bit of makeup, just to accentuate my eyes. I make Prim leave before Peeta arrives.
He shows up right at seven o'clock. He knocks on the door and I open it. He has flowers. I've never been given flowers before – in fact, I've never been on a date before. Unless you count those ten minutes with Gale in the woods . . . I don't generally count that.
"You look beautiful, Katniss," Peeta says.
"Thank you," I say, embarrassed. I invite him inside and put the flowers in a vase.
"We have a little time before the reservation," he says, looking at his watch. "We could hang here or do something in town."
"We can hang out here," I say.
"Cool," he says. He looks at my broken cupboards and countertops. "You know, I could fix these really easily."
"Yeah?" I say.
"Definitely," he says. "They're not in bad shape. It'd take me an hour."
"I'm going to have to take you up on that, then," I say. "How much would it be?"
"Absolutely free," Peeta says.
"Peeta–"
"What kind of a guy would I be if I made the girl I'm dating pay me to fix her kitchen?" he says. "I'll tell you – I'd be an asshole."
"Yes, but I don't want to owe you anything," I say.
"I know how you can pay me back," he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"Oh my God," I laugh, shoving him away from me playfully.
"I'm just kidding," he says.
"You better be," I say. "I did it once and look where it landed me."
"With the most amazing daughter in the world?" he says. "I'd say that's a pretty good reason to do it."
"Look what I'm living in," I say. "Even my mother's is better than this dump."
"This isn't a dump," Peeta replies. "And I'm going to fix up the unpleasant parts of it, okay?"
When we arrive at the restaurant, Peeta opens the door for me and pulls my chair out for me. It's enough to make me, a very ungirly-girl, to swoon just a little. He orders some crazy fish dish from 4 as an appetizer and allows me to order whatever I want off the menu – even when the item I picked was the most expensive thing on the menu. I didn't notice and Peeta didn't tell me. It was when I saw the check that I was outraged.
"Okay, that meal was not worth the cost," I say when we left. "That's about the amount of money I make in a month."
"I make a good living, Katniss," he says. "You don't have to worry."
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. "Where to next?"
"Well, Miss Everdeen, it's around nine thirty," he says, glancing at his watch. "We could catch a movie, if you want."
"That sounds like fun," I say.
"Is there a specific time you want to be home?" he asks.
"I'm daughter-less on the weekends," I say.
"That's very convenient for me, you know," he says, tentatively grabbing my hand. I smile like an idiot (God, what is happening to me) and wrap my fingers around his.