A/N: I am SO sorry for not updating since . . . holy crap. Last December? Are you kidding me? D: WHAT HAPPENED?

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. But sometimes I like to pretend Peeta is my homeboy.

Chapter 1

The ship—if you could call it that—docked late that morning, so late that the sun was almost up by the time I'd de-boarded with my load. I hefted the mesh bag over my shoulder quickly before slipping down the pier. The dock was uneven beneath my feet, rocking slightly but not enough that it gave me cause for concern. I'd grown up on ships, on boats and fishing platforms, and I was used to it by now. My pace this morning was hurried, bordering on frantic, but I didn't want to waste any amount of time. Not only did I have to go home to make sure that my siblings were fed, but I also wanted to spend one more day at Jaren and I's secret spring. Jaren . . .

I smiled.

I picked up my pace as I glimpsed Jaren's black hair and aqua eyes until suddenly I was running. I dropped the bag at my feet and leapt into his arms as he caught me, spinning me in fast twirls. Laughing, I brought my lips to his and kissed him briefly before smiling and pulling away. This was our routine. It had happened every morning for the past two and a half years, and it had yet to get old. I still felt that tightening of my chest when I walked down the pier, my heart fluttering as I walked on tiptoes to see over the heads of all of the workers.

Jaren's grin was one of obvious relief and contentment, and I felt my knees buckle underneath me.

"Every time." Jaren laughed as he effortlessly caught me around my waist.

"Every time." I sighed in agreement.

With that, I steadied my legs and picked up my bag and we began walking in silence. I couldn't help but think, for the hundredth time, that this was just so easy and right.

"Do we have to stop off at your place first?" He asked suddenly, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes as he steered me away from the market and down a side street.

I nodded. "I need to make sure the little brats get food or they'll hunt me down." I laughed softly, thinking of the last time my little brother and little sister had ran around the District screaming my name. Of course it had all been Irvin's idea, him being the trouble maker and all, but I was still surprised that shy Kutiel had followed his lead. The term 'brats' was also one of endearment, even if the two of them together was almost more than I could handle.

Jaren just smiled and nodded and we fell back into easy silence, just revelling in each other's company. I was content just to walk around for hours, holding onto Jaren's hand as every few seconds he peaked at me and smiled. If life could just be this, just us and our company and not having to worry at all about anything, I could live forever.

But today was the day of the reaping.

It was my last year, having just turned eighteen two weeks ago, and it was another three years before my twin brother and sister could even begin to worry about it. Jaren was blissfully over the reaping age, so that just left me.

But of course, I wasn't going to be reaped. Even if I did, it's not like no one would volunteer. Not because I had many friends or people who would take my place, but because this was District 4, and that's what people did here. They'd train all their lives, they'd volunteer for the glory, they'd get greedy, too prideful, and then they'd die.

I had nothing to worry about.

Except for the fact that I'd had a target on my back from when I was just old enough to walk.

It was after my mother gave birth to Kutiel and Irvin, and my father decided to bail on us. He just took off with some tramp from District 1, never to be heard from again. The day after he left, I was at school and it was our break so I was playing in the sand. I never realized this when I was little, but our school was located on the beach, which could have been potentially disastrous. Personally, I think they were hoping for some of the kids to drown themselves. Save the effort for someone else.

I had very few friends at that age, and because the news of my father's scandal had spread faster than a wildfire, those few friends had dwindled down to none. I was playing alone when Parvati Samuels came over and destroyed my sand castle. Parvati had perfect black hair and blue eyes the exact colour of the sea, even at that age. She spat the word "freak," in my face, and though I'd never heard that word before I knew from the way she said it that it wasn't meant to be a compliment. Remembering the words of my father ("Always fight back, Kitty Cat, and never back down."), I got up casually, dusted the sand off my pants and then proceeded to push Parvati into the ground, kicking sand in her face.

Two teachers had to carry the crying Parvati away while another one of them smacked me over the head with an Earth Sciences text book (which are much thicker than any other text book we use). I still remembered the words Parvati screamed to me when I stuck my tongue out at her receding form. Glaring at me, she said, "I'll make sure you're in the Hunger Games so you can die!"

It was a harsh insult, one that didn't sit well with me. She even had detention for a few days after that, but I couldn't bring myself to feel any amount of satisfaction. If she really meant it, I'm sure she'd find a way to make it happen.

So, since it was my last year to be reaped, and Parvati was the Mayor's daughter and had the whole District wrapped around her perfect little finger, I had everything to worry about.

The house we approached was almost to dilapidated to be referred to as a house. More of a shack. Or a box with windows. But its familiar dark brown trim, stand-out red door and almost non-existent garden are what made this place home to me. Also, I enjoyed the residents from time to time. Even as I thought it, I imagined I saw two pairs of eyes straining to look through the window.

What would happen to them if I were to be reaped?

I knew what would happen though, and I'd owe Jaren whatever was left of my life.

"You okay?"

I glanced over to see Jaren's concerned expression focused on my face. Covering up with a smile, I responded with a simple, "Yeah. Just a little nervous, I guess."

Jaren stopped me as we approached my front step, taking both my hands in his own. He grabbed my bag from my hands and kissed my knuckles. "You have nothing to worry about, Catari." He replied softly.

I scrunched my nose and laughed. "Jaren, my hands smell like fish."

Jaren's own bright smile spread across his face. "Yeah, they kind of do."

I giggled again and smacked him lightly on the shoulder before opening the front door and stepping into my home. Dark walls, dark floors, ratty old couches and a small black and white television are all the main room has to offer. Home. It's not huge, it's not extravagant, but it's comfortable. My smile momentarily failed as I turned my back on Jaren.

Oh Jaren, you have no idea how wrong you are . . .

The smile was immediately plastered on my face again as Kutiel came running from the kitchen, shrieking happily. Irvin followed closely behind and was chasing her with a twig, screaming, "On guard! Draw your weapon, wench!"

"Hey!" I called, grabbing the twig from Irvin's hand as Kutiel ran behind me. "Don't call your sister that. It's rude, Irvin."

Pouting, Irvin flipped his blond hair from his eyes and stared up at me. "But Cat! It was in the book Jar read to us last night!"

I glanced unhappily at Jaren but sighed. "Just . . . just don't say it, Vin. And please don't say it at school. You know they'll ask where you heard it, and books are forbidden." As Irvin continued to pout, I handed the bag to Kutiel. "I brought more fish home for us. Do you want to get started on breakfast?" Kutiel just took the bag and smiled her most charming little girl smile and took off towards the kitchen again, Irvin, yet again, taking off after her.

Pausing for a moment, I tried to detect any movement occurring in the lone bedroom located to my left, but after a moment, my mother's snores could be heard over Kiti and Vin's bickering. Better for her stay sleeping. She'd been up all night drinking, whether because she knew it was the reaping or just out of pure selfishness, I wasn't not sure. My mother didn't know about letting my siblings read forbidden books, or else I was sure that in one of her drunken daze's, she'd have marched straight to the Peacekeepers and informed them of all of the nefarious doings of her ungrateful daughter. She'd be sorry in the morning when she was sober enough to think, if not completely embarrassed, but one slip. One slip up was all it would take.

Jaren helped me take off my coat and hung it up as I started to tidy up the few possessions we had. No matter how few things we owned, our house still looked like the Tasmanian Devil had gone on a rampage through it.

"You know," I started slowly, not really wanting to have this conversation today but figuring it would be better now than never. "We probably should stop reading to them."

Jaren's look of alarm might have been humorous under different circumstances, but right now I was just trying to protect everyone.

He stared at me for a moment longer before deciding to answer. "You're . . . kidding, right?"

Shrugging, I picked the knitted blanket off the ratty couch and started to fold it, even if it was just to keep my hands busy. "I just . . . If anyone finds out we read Kiti and Vin books, forbidden books, from before the Dark Days, not only do we get in trouble and most likely shipped off to the Capitol, but your Uncle, too! They're his books, Jaren. You know how much trouble we'd be in."

When Jaren just stood there watching me, I felt the need to continue. "You'd definitely lose your job, we'd be in prison in the Capitol, or worse, and they'd probably take Kutiel and Irvin to the Capitol to be brainwashed or something. And my mom—and you'd lose your car!—and—"

Then suddenly Jaren was kissing me. I knew it was because I was becoming flustered and panicked, but I couldn't help myself. The thought of my siblings in the Capitol, being brainwashed and mutilated, or worse, and my drunken mother left alone to her own devices. And Jaren, in prison or dead. I just couldn't bear to think of it.

He was the first to pull back, and I'm not proud to say that a whimper escaped my lips. Jared put his hands on either side of my face and was staring at me with such intensity that I almost felt compelled to look away, or blush uncontrollably. He absently stroked my cheek with his thumb, always keeping eye contact. "It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine, Cat, I swear." He pressed warm lips against my forehead in comfort. "I'll never let anything happen to you." You, meaning my entire family, as well as myself.

For a moment, I let myself believe him. It's all I need. I nodded my head and let out a nervous laugh. "I know." It doesn't come out quite as confidently as I wanted it too, so I steel my resolve and repeat, "I know."

The answering smile I'm rewarded with was worth any amount of uncertainty.

"Come on," he replied gruffly with a smile set easily on his features. He guided me lightly by the hand to the kitchen. "We can feed the little ones and still have a few hours at the spring."

Even without his leading hand, I'd follow him. I'd follow him anywhere.

Jared and I had this special place we'd go. It was hidden, and a bit of a hike to get there, but it was worth all the bumps and bruises. Most District 4 citizens would rather swim to the edge of the ocean than fight their way through the forest, so even though the spring Jared and I found was only about a half hour walk, I'd never seen any signs to indicate that another soul even knew this place existed.

The spring itself was only maybe five feet deep at the most extreme depth, and spanned maybe thirty feet of land, but it was perfect. The water was always a clear blue—not as polluted as the sea, but not as clear as the sky—and it was safe to drink without even boiling it. The pool of water was on the far left of what I can only think to call a meadow, bordered by trees on three sides, and a specifically large moss covered rock formation at the back that probably projected a good twenty feet in the air.

Perfect. My second home. I probably felt safer here even than at my own house, which shouldn't have been surprising.

Maybe that was only because I associated this place with Jaren, though. To me, that's what Jaren was. He was safety. He was stability. He was my paradise. It was just by pure chance that the first time we'd met each other was there, at the spring.

"You remember the first day we met?" Jaren asked abruptly. We were sitting a few feet away from the spring's edge, Jaren's head was in my lap as I twirled random pieces of hair and, without him knowing, placed tiny white flowers in his hair. I had to stifle to overwhelming urge to laugh.

I smiled at the memory, though the events that led up to our meeting were not necessarily good ones. It had been four years exactly to the day since my father had taken off—I knew, because it was Kiti and Vin's birthday. I was thirteen by then, old enough to babysit my brother and sister, and they were old enough not to need taking care of every second of the day. I guess that was when my mother started drinking. It was the first time I'd been struck on purpose; by anyone. By my own mother, no less.

I'd taken off. I ran blindly through the woods, because if I'd stolen one of the boats, there were others who knew the ocean better than I did, and you could distinctly see the fence on the horizon line. I wouldn't get very far. But the forest? No one went into the forest. Mostly because it was frowned upon, but also because they were scared. Water's our thing, for the most part. Fish and clams and seaweed. Not bears and trees and plants.

I ran for what I thought was hours, days, but in fact was only a little over two hours. I know I must have circled the spring at least once, though from the tears streaming from my eyes, I was amazed that I could see it even when I was standing in the middle of it.

Jared was sitting in the middle of the field, and I remembered think that he was a year ahead of me in school, though I didn't know his name at that point. He hadn't noticed me yet, which was a miracle seeing as I was openly sobbing, He held a book in his hands and was staring at it with such apt concentration that I immediately stopped crying. I was old enough to know that most books from the before time were forbidden, and I was close enough to recognize the cover as one that I'd seen on posters before, declaring you to submit all items for termination.

Then he looked up.

I can't tell you specifically what emotions I saw running through his eyes, but I picked out surprise, shock, curiosity, and then finally, maybe most profoundly of all, panic.

"You can't tell anyone!" He'd said, shooting up so fast that I was a little dizzy when he was standing in front of me a second later. "Don't say anything, or I'll—I'll . . ."

Not one to take kindly to threats, I'd wiped my face fiercely, getting rid of any stray tears and then glared at him. "You'll do what, exactly? Tattle to the Peacekeepers?"

He'd looked so infuriated that I'd called him out, so scared that I might tell someone about the book which he'd stuffed hastily under his jacket.

He hit me. Not hard, like my mother had, but he'd punched my shoulder hard enough that I stumbled back. At that point, I thought he was trying to bully me; maybe he was planning on beating me up and leaving me here to die. Now, I know that he was trying to scare me off. It didn't work. I punched him back, but I did punch in the face.

That was that. He'd asked me about the welt on my cheek and I'd spilled my entire life story. He told me that his parents were dead, and that he lived with his uncle fixing up old before-time items. Extremely illegal, yet he's trusted me enough with the information even then.

As I placed another flower in his hair, I smiled brightly, though I was pretty sure he was starting to get suspicious. "I remember." I said softly, holding his gaze for a second longer than usual.

"And you love me." It's a simple statement, and I know he's not questioning it, but I get the distinct feeling that he wants me to respond anyway.

I lightly touched his cheek and warmth spreads into my fingertips. "I do. I love you more than anything." There was an almost supposed to be placed somewhere in there that wouldn't have to be explained. My brother and sister always came first.

But something was distracting him. He didn't even return my smile. That alone was enough to get my heart to speed up half a beat faster.

"Jar . . . ?"

He sat up abruptly, facing in the opposite direction. Jaren's right hand fumbled awkwardly with his pocket, but I couldn't see around him enough to know what he was doing.

When he turned towards me, I noticed the light sheen of sweat beginning to perspire along his hairline, and the apprehensive gleam in his eyes. My hand automatically reached out towards him to try and ease his distress, but something in his expression made me drop my arm.

"Cat . . ."

I waited. I waited for him to say something else, to grab my hand, to do anything really.

Jaren . . .

His face cleared, and for a moment, I felt my heart stutter in anticipation, but then his eyes widen. "Do you hear that?"

No, I wanted to say angrily. I was trying to focus on breathing, actually. But I could hear it now.

The warning bell. Announcing a last call to sign in for the reaping.

I felt my eyes widen in response. No . . . There was no way we could make it on time.

We're running before I'm even aware of standing up.

A/N: I PROMISE I WILL UPDATE MORE OFTEN! Like, once every week or two. I'm so sorry about the giant time gap. Didn't have the best year, but yeah, no excuse, I know. :) Please tell me what you think!

*~*Courtney*~*