Happy, happy, happy birthday Court. This is for you!
On the night of her belated birthday party, Katniss confined herself to her bedroom. Ivory linens, sage green walls, walnut furnishings, and vases loaded with wildflowers usually guaranteed her sanctuary, especially when she tucked herself into the window seat and closed the drapes framing it, concealing herself further from the world. She did so now, yet the confusion and restlessness stayed with her.
She wrestled with her merciless corset and petticoats, wiggling deeper into the cushions and not caring if she wrinkled the silver folds of her gown. So what if Peeta's body reacted to her in . . . that way. So what if he got a "cock stand"—as Johanna put it when a beet-faced Kat had confided in her. According to her friend, it was bound to happen eventually. In fact, no one in their social set would be surprised by the news if Kat told them. Apparently, the only two people too dumb to realize it were her and Peeta.
"It was only a matter of time," Jo had grunted during her visit, the same day it happened. "You're Everlark, for Christ's sake."
Whatever that meant. Katniss refused to dig deeper, seeing as her friend was the last discreet female on the planet. If asked to elaborate, Jo might thrust facts at Kat that she wasn't prepared or willing to swallow.
It happened, but no harm done. Friends made mistakes. They had gotten carried away when they didn't mean to.
Except since that mortifying ordeal yesterday morning, she'd been feeling strange. Thoughts of him pestered her, distracted her, constantly. She'd daydreamed about his body, what it might look like bare and excited—hers for the taking. She caught herself glancing in mirrors, wondering what he saw when he gazed upon her. She'd even fallen asleep to visions of him, and not innocent or playful ones. The fantasies had been so intense, so very naked, that Kat had stormed awake last night, moisture clinging to her nightgown.
Peeta had been avoiding her since the incident, which wasn't like him. Usually, he didn't fear confrontations. And neither did she.
The whole mess scared her. Indeed, it terrified her. Maybe it was the time he'd spent away that changed Katniss, seeing as their rascally friendship lacked its former appeal. For her, it was no longer enough. She yearned for Peeta, though she wasn't sure if the yearning was familial or something else. Something outrageous.
She doubted that Peeta would echo that sentiment, because he was smart, whereas she was a moron. Despite his male response to her, he didn't want her romantically. Men's bodies had minds of their own, subject to any woman's nearness. She was his best friend, practically his sister! That was all.
Deluding herself was out of the question. Anything beyond a friendship would be a risk, would ruin everything, and would destroy their routine. Not to mention what Mr. Mellark would say, how disgusted Great Aunt Effie would be. And how much it would hurt if Peeta rejected her.
This attraction . . . it was a phase. Kat would get over it.
One hour later, during the coach ride to her party, she repeated the mantra. Ensconced across from her loving ward and beside Aunt Effie, Kat chanted, It's a phase. Just a phase. A damn phase!
The coach rocked through town and then into nature, trees netting on either side of the lane. The vehicle's wheels ground into the dirt, grating on Kat's nerves.
Effie leaned over with a warning. "Don't fidget."
"Don't lecture," Kat replied.
"Brooding over my grandnephew won't do you any good."
"Who said I was brooding over Peeta?"
"You didn't need to say a thing, dear. Your demeanor practically screams it. What he's done to vex you? Is it his relationship with Miss Cartwright?"
"He doesn't have a relationship with Deliah," Kat seethed.
"Pfff. He will soon. And obviously you don't approve. Well, good. Neither do I. Every girl in town would sever a toe to be with him. He can do much better."
"I'd prefer not to talk about this. Ever."
"That hypocritical little chit," the elderly woman sniffed. "Miss Cartwright has no right pursue him and then look down her nose on you, as if she's so pristine."
That got Kat's attention. "What do you mean?"
Effie hedged, then glanced at Mr. Mellark, who'd dozed off. Satisfied that he really was asleep, she curled her finger for Kat to lean closer. "This doesn't leave the coach. Understand? No one knows," she said. "I make a career out of judging others, and my opinion is widely valued, but I don't consider myself petty. I'm only telling you to boost your confidence around the girl. Your heathen actions of late have given me inflammation, but compared to her, you're an innocent."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Of course. What else would it be?"
"I won't utter a word," Katniss promised.
"That's one thing we can always count on. All right, then."
Effie knew everything about everyone, which made people afraid of her. But Katniss hadn't imagined the degree of information stocked in the woman's brain until sixty seconds later, when she spilled an astonishing piece of information into Kat's ear. Information that she could hardly believe.
She concentrated on nothing else until they arrived at the party. From there, the sights and sounds preoccupied her.
The event exuded the Mellarks' signature style: sweetly excessive. They'd spared little expense, choosing a public setting rather than their private garden at the townhouse, hosting the event in one of Kat's favorite places on earth. Tonight, the meadow had been transformed into an enchanted forest. Candles in glass vials pumped gold into the twilight, giving the place an ethereal glow. In the shimmering half-light, everything looked secretive, including the trees trembling from the shadows, with moss lacing their branches.
On a platform erected for dancing, a piper and fiddler played. In circles of pillows, guests lounged and laughed. At the tables, they were served glorious food. Stewed lamb wafting from tureens. Platters of game and vegetables drenched in creamy sauces. Baskets of Peeta's bread. Punch and lemonade. A cake, baked by her best friend, adorned with sugar leaves and pinecones to express her love of forests.
Aunt Effie perched in a chair and gripped her cane, using the telescopes of her eyes to police the crowd, nitpicking at the barest hints of social indiscretions. Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, Effie's nemesis, set up camp by the champagne. And Johanna was here, as well as other debutantes from The Young Ladies Committee for the Habitat of Endangered Mockingjays and Redeemable Mutts. Miss Undersee, Miss Clove, and ugh, Miss Glimmer, to name a few.
But some of the attendants, Katniss didn't know well. An unfamiliar gentleman scratched his beard as he listened to his comrade's monologue. A woman slapped her fan against a younger man's shoulder, openly teasing him. A group of girls Kat's age giggled and compared fashions.
Even after living in this part of the district for years, Kat couldn't recall the names and relations of each guest. The affluent ones with plump bloodlines, at least.
However, she did know the merchants better, recognized their faces more often. To her delight, the Mellarks had invited both sides of the social spectrum to her party. Her family was known to hold the merchant class in high regard, considering Mr. Mellark owned the local bakery.
The classes didn't mix on the lawn. They kept their distance from each other, but they enjoyed themselves all the same, fluttering happily across the green like intoxicated, pastry-bloated butterflies. Katniss stood at the fringes of the meadow, feeling dazed by the extravagance. The twinkling lights, the feast, and the musicians. How did she end up in a world where families could afford to celebrate like this?
She liked parties about as much as she liked pneumonia, but this was a milestone for her. Her family insisted she welcome society to at least one birthday in her life. For the sake of affinity and community.
Still, the Mellarks customized the event to her personality. They made it hers. And they made it big, because the more people who attended, the easier Kat could disappear into the background without being noticed, as they expected her to do.
The only adornments missing were the stars. Instead, a lone white moon pooled in the sky.
Kat skimmed the crowd for Peeta. Earlier, he'd made some excuse to his father about having "things" to attend to, after which he'd call on Finnick Odair and then head to the party from that stinker's residence.
So much for hoping Peeta would escort her here. Yet she couldn't blame him. Even while she hunted for his blond curls in the mass, she dreaded locating them, partly relieved that he was nowhere in sight.
With the guests engaged in their own revelry, Katniss retreated into the wood, until the melodies and chatter dissolved. At the lake, she lowered herself to the ground and watched the ripples glint across the black surface. One time, she took a mighty chance and swam in there naked. Johanna had dared her.
Yellow primroses puffed from the ground. A ladybug crawled across one of the flowers, a sign of good luck, and how funny to discover the creature at night! Maybe it was a rare type that only came out in the evening, though she'd never heard of one.
Reaching out, she scooped the insect onto her pinky. She stared at it, a shell of glossy red and black wobbling up her finger.
"Hello," she said. "How old are you? I'm eighteen."
The ladybug paused, as though it might answer. Katniss leaned forward, closing her eyes and listening, trying to hear if her visitor was breathing. There had to be noise coming from its body. Everything made noise.
But nothing. No sound.
When she opened her eyes, the ladybug was gone. It had flown away.
"You always loved talking to nature," a husky voice observed.
Katniss twisted and saw a young man idling near an evergreen. If she hadn't been sitting, her knees might have buckled, not only because he startled her, but also because he was handsome. Very handsome. Tall, dark, and . . . handsome. Longish, coal-black hair and tanned skin, from what she could tell in the meager light. An athletic build and the relaxed posture of someone used to being outdoors. A countenance that could have been carved from a tree.
He was the exact opposite of every dandy, heir, bachelor, suitor, and buck in her circle. The exact opposite of Peeta.
The stranger wore simple trousers and a shirt, but no tail-coat or hat, which meant he wasn't a party guest. Nor was he dressed as one of the servants offering refreshments tonight. He looked too rugged to be a gentleman, held himself too aloft to be in service.
Drat. Without a chaperone present, this was a bad state of affairs. If anyone came upon them, Katniss would be ruined. Her precarious reputation would be cemented, she'd never hear the end of it from Effie, and the Mellarks would suffer the humiliation. And Peeta . . . frankly, she had no clue how Peeta would feel, or how he did feel towards her at the moment.
She should tell the young man to leave, yet he seemed to think he knew her. Why else would he comment on her love of nature with acute fondness? With familiarity?
Katniss struggled to place him. Guilt and disappointment gnawed at her when she couldn't.
"I'm disturbing you," he said, misinterpreting her silence.
"Not at all, sir," she said. "I was making friends with an insect."
"Some things never change."
"Forgive me, but are we acquainted?"
"We used to be," he answered, his lips quirking. "My presence alerted your companion, I think. Sorry for making it fly away. I'm usually more adept, but I was so surprised to see you that I lost my footing and made a racket. Enough to scare a ladybug."
"You saw it from where you stood? Impossible."
"I know these woods. Every bit of them."
He sounded like these woods, too. She should be alarmed to find herself in this newcomer's presence, in a place where he could accost her without anyone hearing, but evidently her experience with St. Marvel at Deliah's party hadn't made her vigilant of these situations. And besides, she could take care of herself, as she'd told Peeta. So instead, she found herself grinning and immediately feeling a kinship with the stranger.
Then she stopped grinning as he approached, his movements stealing her breath with recognition. He breezed across the grass stealthy and quick, the way he did when they were Seam children. Back when they would skulk through alleyways searching for edible rodents, digging through the trash for scraps while avoiding pickpockets and peacekeepers.
Six months before she went to live with the Mellarks, they'd lost track of one another. With no explanation, he'd stopped showing up at their meeting spot behind the slag heap. For weeks, she cried over him, believing he had abandoned her. That he'd gotten sick of teaching her his street ways and protecting her from Grisly Uncle Cray.
It couldn't be him. But it was. Wasn't it?
Katniss surged to her feet, met him halfway, and clasped his face. Those eyes confirmed it. Those silver eyes.
"Gale," she breathed.
"Katniss," he replied.
She wrenched him into a hug, saying his name over and over. Her former chum. Gale Hawthorne.
Pulling back, she surveyed him closer, while he did the same to her. The last time they'd been together, they were impoverished kids. Since then, it appeared they'd both been handed their share of luck. Despite the bark texture of his hands, Gale's appearance wasn't as humble as she'd first thought. His clothing for instance: The cut wasn't tailored to his physique, but the material was decent quality, closer to what a merchant would wear.
And his vocabulary. It had become almost as polished as hers. Rough around the edges, but markedly improved.
"You've done well," she said, giving him a lively shove like old times.
"You clean up good, yourself," he complimented.
Her smile faded. She should hate him, but she couldn't, not until she got his side of the story. "What happened to you? Why did you disappear? Where did you go?"
He hunkered down onto the grass and coaxed her to do the same. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I didn't leave you on purpose."
"Tell me everything."
Gale averted his eyes as he spoke. It turned out, he'd not abandoned her at all. No, he'd been kidnapped.
He'd been taken in broad daylight and forced into labor as a coal miner. For a year, he lived underground, experiencing the nightmare that Katniss had often feared for them both. There were devilish characters in the Seam, known to swipe youth off their heels and trap them in a life of heinous servitude as chimney sweeps and coal miners. A life of soot-caked eyes and lungs, and bloody joints. Many of those unlucky children didn't survive it for long.
Thank goodness, Gale managed to escape and return to his family. However, Katniss was gone by that time, adopted into a new world of her own.
Gale worried the same fate had befallen her, or that Grisly Uncle Cray had done something to her. For months, Gale combed the Seam and the woods for Katniss. Eventually, he gave up. He had to focus on feeding his mother and brothers, never thinking to search the merchant quarter, nor the wealthy part of town. Why would he? In his mind, the chances of her being there would have been nil. In the land of fat purses and leisure, residents hardly tolerated the poor crossing into rich territory. Kat had experienced that directly, the public sneers and ignorance, back on that Christmas Eve night when she first braved Peeta's neighborhood as a child. She wouldn't have bothered to venture there if she hadn't been desperate.
In any case, the one benefit to Gale's kidnapping was that he learned to read and write. One of the overseers took a liking to Gale, and for two hours each day, he summoned Gale aboveground for tutoring, seeing potential in the boy. Though they didn't speak about Gale being a slave, the man paid him through education.
Gale used it to his advantage after he fled. Over the years, he got stronger. He taught himself to hunt, raised himself up from a Seam urchin to a schooled young man, smart enough to negotiate his game in town and make a real business of it. He supplied the butcher, fur traders, and a few upper class clients as well. He supported his family and recently bought a modest house in the merchant sector.
Katniss was proud of him. At twenty, Gale had become his own man, self-made without a title or inheritance.
"That's how I heard about you," he said. "Everyone in the neighborhood was gossiping about your party."
"People love their clucking and gossiping," Kat said with a roll of her eyes. "Does that mean you came around to stalk me?"
"Would you mind if I did?"
"I would mind if you didn't!"
They chuckled, the sound skipping across the lake, blending in with the strum of crickets. Their hands entwined and squeezed.
"You can't imagine my relief, finding out that you've led a good life," Gale said. "I missed you."
"I've missed you," she replied through a lump in her throat.
"Actually, I was planning to call on you tomorrow. I had no idea the party would be held in the meadow. The gossip mongrels didn't say anything about that. I came out here tonight just for myself, to talk a walk, clear my head. But then, out of nowhere, I saw you."
"And you're a hunter!" she beamed with excitement. "I want to know all about it. I have a bow, too."
Gale threw his head back and laughed. "If that isn't a sign, I don't know what is."
"I'm good at archery, but I want to learn more, but ladies aren't allowed to hunt. Will you teach me?"
He plucked a blade of grass and pointed it at her. "Now that's the girl I know."
"I promise, I'm a fast learner and—wait." She peered at him. "You don't hunt endangered animals, do you?"
"What do you take me for? An aristocrat from the Capitol?"
"Then take me with you on one of your rounds. I'd have to find a way to sneak out, but you know I'm good for it. And I'm quite and patient. And did I mention, I'm a fast learner? Oh please, Gale. Please."
"I don't want to get you in trouble. What about this family you live with?" he asked. "I just met Mr. Mellark a few days ago. He expressed an interest in buying my squirrels. Seems like a good fellow."
Warmth fizzled in Katniss's chest. "He's very good. He's like a father to me, and his son . . . Peeta . . . Well, he's . . ."
As she drifted off, Gale studied her. His voice lowered, adding some kind of weight to the question: "He's what?"
She hesitated, staring down at their laced fingers. It had been years, but would Gale feel hurt to discover that she'd found another best friend? Was that all she could call Peeta, after what happened in the dining room? Was it still that simple?
Was it simple with Gale anymore? He looked the same yet different, more confident and self-assured, though not wholly refined. An attractive, clean-shaven face. Weathered hands that bespoke of hard work and industry.
His eyes roamed her curves, trussed up in watery lengths of silver silk. He gazed at her in an unfathomable way. A primitive way that made the air thicken.
Two boys who meant everything to her. Two boys she'd thought she knew.
Before she could put her thoughts of Peeta into sensible words, the hedges rustled. As a golden head popped from the undergrowth, Katniss's heart went berserk. She shot to her feet alongside Gale, at the same instant Peeta emerged like a wicked fairy. Deliah Cartwright materialized with him, hanging onto his arm like his nymph-in-waiting.
A champagne flute sparkled in Peeta's hand, as though he'd used the glass to catch the stars. The nymph leached to his side smirked, as though she'd been invited to share those stars with him.
Had they been coming here for an intimate rendezvous?
At the very thought, Kat's soul blazed into an inferno. She felt her retinas burning so hotly that if she didn't look away from Deliah, her eyeballs would incinerate the girl where she stood. A puddle of ash beneath a larger puddle of teal satin.
All right. This thing Kat had begun to feel for Peeta might not be just a phase.
Peeta wore no hat either, but his black suit and snowy linen shirt molded to his ridiculous shoulders. The necktie with a tiny sapphire winking in the center made his pupils explode. He should have stayed the hell in the meadow with everyone else.
The instant he saw her, he broke into a smile. But that smile died as he took a slow inventory of the gown hugging Kat's body. It appeared to have an unnerving effect on him, because he suddenly seemed winded, then confused, and then slightly angry.
Then again, that was nothing compared to when he noticed Gale. Those blue eyes, visible even at night, locked on the stranger and narrowed. Distrust? Protectiveness? It was hard to say which emotion dominated Peeta the most.
Deliah's purr broke the silence. "Well, well. It seems we've interrupted a private moment. You see, Peeta. I told you she was fine."
"You were looking for me?" Katniss asked, sounding too hopeful for her own good.
Peeta opened his mouth. Deliah cut him off. "You difficult thing. You vanished from the meadow, so he insisted on searching for you. Ever the caring guardian, is our Peeta. Of course, I couldn't let him go into the wild alone, with all the mutts prowling about and equally concerned as I was for your well-being."
If there were mutts in these woods, they wouldn't go after Katniss. She'd be hiding up in a tree, watching as they mauled Deliah, who wouldn't last two seconds in a zoo, much less the forest.
Deliah appraised Gale, the wheels turning, considering the details she could hatch throughout the district. Apparently, she'd forgotten that Katniss wasn't the only female present without a chaperone.
"And here you are, gone and caught yourself a hero," the girl taunted. "I do believe that makes three admirers in less than a week. Percy Flickerman, Marvel St. Marvel, and now this gentleman. We can't leave you alone for a minute, can we?"
"Miss Cartwright," Katniss began, gesturing to Gale. "This is—"
"Don't make introductions for me, Miss Everdeen."
Right. That was the men's job. Except both were too busy sizing one another up to bother.
Katniss took reins anyway, making a hasty and sloppy job of introducing everyone. Despite Gale's lack of pedigree, Deliah whisked up a smile for him, while tension twisted Peeta's face. He hiked up his cleft chin, turning aloof after learning that Gale was an old Seam friend—and that he was a hunter.
Peeta, typically the friendliest person in the world, didn't offer his hand to Gale. Neither did he accept when Gale finally reached out in greeting.
Katniss frowned. Peeta was being rude to Gale and embarrassing her.
At last, Peeta spoke. The sound of his voice, vacant from Kat's ears for the past thirty-three hours, turned her knees to mush.
"Funny," Peeta remarked. "I've known Miss Everdeen for years, yet she's never mentioned you."
Gale's mouth tipped up. "Some things are too personal to mention. I'm sorry if I kept Katniss away from you. She and I had a lot to catch up on. Lucky you were able to find us before we got swept away."
The deliberate use of her first name did not get past Peeta. "I knew where Kat was. Rest assured, I always know where to find her."
"It's not hard," Deliah supplied. "The wild is her natural habitat."
"We have that in common," Gale remarked. "Among other things."
To make matters worse, the hedges rustled yet again. This time, with more aplomb, leafs dancing in the air. Katniss groaned inwardly as Finnick Odair swaggered into the clearing. He glinted like a rare coin, bronzed and polished, expensive and sought-after. The heir to a shipping empire and a renowned flirt who loved being the center of attention. A bad influence on Peeta.
"Mellark!" he boomed to Peeta, throwing up his arms. "There you are, you jolly bastard. Having a powwow without me? Evening and happy birthday to you, Miss Everdeen. Oh, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Person I Don't Know," he said to Gale. But upon seeing Deliah, Finnick's green irises flashed with humor. "Hellooooo, Miss Cartwright."
Finnick's heart was spoken for, now that he'd met Miss Annie Cresta during his travels with Peeta. However, that didn't stop the cad from admiring Deliah's tits. Kat had once overheard Finnick whisper to Peeta, "You could float across the ocean on those things."
Finnick swiped Peeta's champagne glass, took a gulp, and squinted. "Hell, this won't do. We need something absurd to drink. I'm in the mood for a bumper of whiskey myself. Besides, I hate parties where nothing demonic happens. Here, Deliah, take this." He handed the flute to her and then slapped Peeta on the back. "Shall we make the rounds?"
"It's Katniss's party," Peeta said with mild sarcasm. "Ask her if I can go. I'm at her disposal. Apparently, all men are."
"Miss Everdeen, my dearest. May I steal your man away? I need to get hogged. I'm lonesome without my Annie and require a bucket's worth of amber to remedy it. You understand."
"I'm not holding Peeta back," Kat said, glowering at her best friend. "I never have. He comes and goes as he pleases. He disappears whenever he sees fit. It doesn't matter what others think."
Peeta dragged his gaze to her. "Says the girl who vanished into the forest without a word."
"With a veritable lumberjack in toe," Deliah added. "No offense, sir."
Gale canted his dark head. "Trust me, there's no way someone like you could offend me."
"Of course. I'm sure you hardly notice when people do."
"Deliah," Peeta scolded.
Katniss tore the champagne from Deliah's hand and guzzled the last of it. The effervescence went straight to her head, sparked a vicious frenzy on her tongue, and caused a wholly uncensored thought to trip from her lips. "Miss Cartwright's not a virgin. She slept with her servant."
Silence. Dead and utter silence.
Gale stared at Katniss. Finnick's brows jumped. Peeta whipped his head toward Kat, his gaze pinning her to the grass.
The color drained from Deliah's cheeks. As Great Aunt Effie had explained in the coach, no one knew about this. Six months ago, Deliah had given herself to a footman employed in her house. Her mother had confessed the scandal to Effie during a sobbing fit. Naturally, the family had vowed to keep it a secret.
Deliah shrank into Peeta's side, humiliation washing over her. It wasn't an act. By blasting that information out into the air like a cannonball, Katniss had truly mortified and hurt the girl, to the point where she failed to deny it. It didn't matter that the men wouldn't repeat Kat's words to anyone beyond the woods.
In seconds, Peeta's expression contorted into disgust. How could she? How could she betray Effie's trust and stoop so low? And in public, in front of Peeta, Finnick, and Gale?
Remorse consumed Katniss. She wasn't the sort of person to disgrace another. She took no pleasure in other people's ridicule. Plus, she didn't know the whole story. Unless Deliah cornered the footman and gave him no choice, which Kat doubted—Deliah was selfish, but not that selfish—what the girl did wasn't truly that terrible. Intimacy before marriage didn't offend Kat, as it did many others. Nevertheless, such news amounted to a girl's ruination. And she'd used it as a weapon.
"Let's go," Peeta said to Deliah. "I'll escort you to your coach."
"Th-thank you," she managed.
As they left with a speechless Finnick, Deliah turned and peeked at Katniss beneath her lashes, tossing her a ferocious look. You'll be sorry for this.
Katniss was already sorry. Especially when Peeta swung his head over his shoulder and glowered like he hardly knew her. Like he hardly wanted to.
From that second onward, Katniss drifted weightless as a feather through the rest of the party. She suffered through Gale's consoling goodbye and his promise to take her hunting, while a weak smile twitched the corners of her lips. She endured Mr. Mellark's questioning gaze as Peeta leave the meadow with Finnick after taking Deliah to her carriage, and the expression wrinkling Kat's face as she watched them go. She endured Effie's huffing and puffing, Jo's surly wisecracks, and the guests who congratulated her.
She blew out eighteen candles poking from the cake Peeta had baked her, the tendrils of smoke curling under her nostrils. Too late, she realized that she'd forgotten to make a wish. Not that she deserved one.
And in the lower corner of the three-tiered pastry, hidden beneath a sugar leaf, one word looped across the icing . . . by his hand and meant for only her to see.
Everlark
Kat wanted to laugh. Or to scream. Or to do something even more stupid, so very stupid, like cry.
She didn't sleep that night. She couldn't, not when Peeta hadn't returned home yet. Who knew where Finnick had taken him or what they'd gotten themselves up to.
What about her? What about all those times, at balls and dinners and picnics, when she and Peeta broke rules of etiquette together? Dancing too close to their partners, mocking one another across the table, using coarse language, baiting guests into taboo subjects and debates, hosting poker matches and races in the gardens of numerous hosts during soirees.
Had Katniss lost her place as Peeta's partner-in-crime? Had Finnick replaced her? Worse, had Deliah replaced her?
Sometime before dawn, as the sun crawled over the rooftops, Katniss lumbered out of bed. Five hours since she came home, and not a wink of rest to show for it. Maybe warm milk with honey would do the trick. Also, a slice of raisin bread. With butter.
The servants would be rising about now. She didn't want to alarm them or get in their way, so she'd have to hurry. Creeping out of her room, she padded down hall. Then froze by the stairs.
Peeta blocked her way. He climbed the last step, swaying as he reached the landing. Seeing her there, in her robe and nightgown, his lips threaded into a tight grin. He towered over her in his rumpled clothes, his necktie dangling like a hooked fish from his open collar.
"Ahhh," he said, his voice stretching lazily. "Katnissssss. Morning."
He moved to step toward her, then stumbled and gripped the banister for support. On instinct, Katniss reached out to help him, then flinched back. A disorientating smell lurched from his body like slap. Not perfume, thank the universe, though he definitely reeked of something uncorked from a bottle.
His eyes were glassy, relaxed, and foolish. He could barely stand upright.
Katniss crossed her arms. "You're foxed."
Peeta raised his hand, pinching his thumb and index finger together. "A little. But it should wear off any day now. It's been—it's been a while."
"You went and got foxed without me."
At her scowl, he sighed. "What else? Let'sss hear it."
"And you left my party," she said through her teeth. "It was my birthday, and you left me there, stuffed with sponge cake."
"Did you like the cake?"
"Very much, thank you."
"You're welcome. Anyway, didn't your new fffriend keep you company?"
"That's another thing. What do you have against Gale?"
"Mister Hawthhhorne," he corrected, sounding like Effie.
"He's Gale to me," Katniss said.
"Don't get any ideas about him. He's not right for you."
"That's for me to decide."
Peeta sobered instantly. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his trousers and locked his jaw, silently telling her that if she was expecting him to apologize for his attitude, she was surely kidding herself.
He couldn't be objecting to Gale's lower class status, the fact that he was in trade. Peeta didn't care about those things. He treated everyone with respect and kindness. Usually.
"You were callous to him," she accused.
"You were beyond uncivil to Deliah," he countered.
"Peeta, I . . . I'm sorry about that. It was wrong of me, and I shouldn't have said anything. I don't know where it came from."
"I do. I know everything about you. You were mad that I brought her with me, because you didn't want her to mock you in front of your companion. Suffice it to say, I'm not thrilled about the effect he has on your conduct."
"And you were mad that I had a companion, a man who wasn't you. You were jealous."
He burst out laughing. The racket that sprang from his throat pointedly declared, I was no such thing.
Never mind that her attack on Deliah had nothing to do with Gale and everything to do with Peeta. Kat could not reveal the turbulence of feelings that had begun to rattle inside her. Anyway, her sensitive mind told her that he was on a mission to hit a nerve and was close to succeeding.
She whirled and marched toward her room. She made it halfway down the corridor when his hand clamped on her arm, spinning her around so fast that she collided with his chest, the impact snapping her head up to meet the his livid gaze. They glared at one another.
The floor creaking alerted them. Jerking their heads sideways, they caught a pair of housemaids carrying buckets and balking at them from the entrance to an adjacent hallway. From another corner, Seneca and three footmen had appeared, watching the scene.
"Get to work!" Katniss and Peeta barked.
The servants scattered like mice. When they disappeared, Katniss hissed at him. "Why don't you trust me with Gale?"
"It's not just Gale," Peeta said. "You've proven I can't trust you with any man. Not after the fiasco with St. Marvel, and not after what you said about Deliah—"
"Miss Cartwright," she shot back.
"—merely because she baited you."
"She insulted Gale!"
"Gale-schmale. He's a big boy. He can handle it. You didn't have to lower yourself to her level and wound her that way, just so he wouldn't see you as weak. Your behavior around men is pathetic. Sooner or later, you're going to start earning the rumors spread about you."
"This isn't your business."
"The hell it's not. You're every bit of my business."
"Why?" she demanded. "Because of what happened in the dining room?"
There it was. The issue they'd both been avoiding. That embarrassing incident when Peeta's body reacted to hers.
He startled. He held her tighter, as though he might fall otherwise. She felt a sudden hyperawareness rush over them, of her delicate frame pressed against his hard one. Their rapid breathing. The heat of it.
Peeta swallowed. "You're my business because I . . ."
She waited, her pulse leaping. Abruptly, he let her go. "Because I'm responsible for you."
Katniss's heart splashed to the floor. Responsible. He'd never associated their relationship with that word before, but that's what he felt now. How dumb and naive of her to think things would never change, even after being parted for so long.
"Well, guess what," she sneered. "I'm newly eighteen, in case you haven't heard. I'm old enough to manage without you, so don't bother. Don't trouble yourself one bit, Peeta."
"Fine," he growled.
They stomped off to their bedrooms and slammed the doors shut.
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