"How do you do this every Saturday?" Finnick grumbles to Johanna.

She's got her feet propped up on her desk. There's a small cluster around her: the nerd, the letterman, the prep. For some reason, the mute girl in the corner is practically curled up in a ball at her desk, refusing to assimilate. "Oh, now you have some respect."

He grins, and it's so charming that Johanna might actually swoon. If she had feelings, that is. "Credit where credit is due."

Johanna smirks.

"You realize that you could have gotten us in serious trouble," the wrestler says, his face drawn.

"Relax," she says with an eye-roll. "I know what the fuck I'm doing. You think I haven't gotten in trouble with the warden before?"

He bristles. "I still think it was a bad idea."

"Why's that, jockstrap?"

Now he looks positively pissed. "I have a name, you know."

"Haven't had the pleasure of being properly introduced," Johanna sneers. "Fine. What's your name?"

"Peeta Mellark."

She has to laugh. It's a pretty stupid name. "As in, pita bread?"

"Yeah." He looks sheepish now. "It's a family name. Kind of like an inside joke."

Johanna snorts. "Well. Now I can see why you're here," she quips. "Pretty hard not to get screwed up when your parents name you after flatbread."

Peeta actually manages to muster up a grin at that.

She lets her eyes wander the room before they settle on her next target.

"What's her deal?" she asks, nodding toward the corner of the room. The girl is a lump. A silent, unmoving, lump, clad in boring gray clothes.

She doesn't think that she imagines Peeta's wince.

"Don't know," Finnick yawns. "Never seen her before."

"I think her name's Katniss," the redhead—whose name is Annie, apparently— offers brightly, directing her words at Finnick. Much to Johanna's amusement, he doesn't appear to notice this girl's desperate bid for his attention.

"Whatever," Johanna shrugs. She tips her chair back so that her body is parallel to the ground. "So. What'd you all do to get in here?"

…

She hears her name. Doesn't hear it issuing from Peeta's mouth, which is a relief. Katniss doesn't want her name handled by such a coarse tongue.

They're all swapping stories about how they got saddled with detention. Finnick's is preposterous—something about getting caught naked in the indoor pool after hours—and Annie's is excessively dull. While Johanna's regaling the group with her own story about cursing out her sociology teacher in front of her entire class, Katniss is wondering about what Peeta will say.

And praying that they won't ask for her story.

But it seems improbable that they don't already know. News travels fast in this school. She's sure that everyone knew that Cato had to be wheeled down to the nurse's office within seconds of it actually happening. Maybe they don't know why it happened—and God, she hopes that they don't—but they have to know.

"…so I just told Ms. Trinket to shut the fuck up," Johanna cackles. "You should have seen her face. Sixteen different shades of purple. Practically matched her hairpiece."

Annie splutters. "You—you actually said that?"

"I did." Johanna's tone is smug. "She was being fucking ridiculous. Reaming me out in front of everyone for not turning in my work on time, or some shit. Like that's gonna make me want to start showing up to that class."

"Whoa." Annie's clearly intimidated, maybe a little impressed.

"Whatever," Finnick says dismissively. "I think getting caught in the pool with your junk hanging out is a hell of a lot worse than that."

"Would have been a lot more impressive if you were in the middle of fucking some girl's brains out," Johanna points out. "Now that would have been a great story."

"That's classy, Johanna," Peeta says suddenly, his voice making Katniss' heart jump into her throat. "Real classy."

She hears Johanna scoff. "Yeah, sure. Like you're some kind of saint," she says. "What did you do, anyway?"

Peeta coughs lightly. "I, uh. Well. It was nothing."

"Oh, come on. You had to have done something," Finnick goads. "Why else would you be here?"

"Really, it's nothing."

"Yeah, what did you do?" Annie presses.

"Guys." Peeta's starting to get agitated.

"Don't be such a pussy," Johanna says, taunting him. "We all talked. Now it's your turn."

He sighs heavily. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Johanna—"

Snow's footsteps echo down the hallway, effectively cutting short their scintillating discussion. Katniss breathes a sigh of relief into her sweater sleeve.

"There will be a thirty minute break for lunch," Snow announces, after prying the wooden door open with some considerable effort. "Be sure to clean up your area after you are finished eating. If I find any crumbs, you will spend an extra hour in detention."

"Wait, we're eating here?" Peeta interjects. "Wouldn't it make more sense to eat in the cafeteria?"

Snow sighs. "No. I don't want the five of you leaving this room."

"But what if we need to get something to drink?" Johanna calls out. "Seriously. If I'm eating a tuna fish sandwich on rye and I don't have something to wash it down with, I could choke."

"Your humor is not appreciated here, young lady."

"I'm not fucking joking," Johanna shoots back. "Do you think I would joke about something as serious as choking on a sandwich?"

There's a long pause. A sigh. "Fine. I'll need someone to get drinks for the whole group."

"I'll go." Johanna's feet pound the floor as she jumps out of her chair.

"Not you, Ms. Mason. I don't trust you as far as I can throw," Snow hisses. "Mr. Mellark, you may go down the hall to the vending machine."

"All right."

Snow raps his knuckles against the door. "Not so fast. I'm not sending you out there alone."

It's as if Katniss hears it before he's even gotten the words out. "You, in the back. Ms. Everdeen."

Her heart constricts in her throat. She can't breathe.

No. Not with him.

Don't make me go with him.

Snow whistles, a shrill sound that makes her sit up straight in her seat. "Look alive. Get up." When Katniss hesitates, the principal narrows his eyes at her. "I don't have all day, Ms. Everdeen."

She is so screwed.