I believe it is time to get a move on with the story. The next 2 years will be told in this chapter, so please bear with me. It will be told in snippets, only recounting events that are important to the plotline.

Please enjoy!

Chapter 10:

The Changing of the Seasons

Winter

With winter came the start of my training. It was against the rules to train for the Hunger Games. However, Katniss didn't seem to mind that we were rebelling against the capitol. Katniss and Gale decided to teach me everything they knew about hunting, trapping, snares, and overall survival skills. I have to say, there is a lot I don't know about surviving in the woods. Katniss was patient with me. Always happy to answer any questions I have or give advice when it was needed. Gale on the other hand, tended to snap at me if I didn't get it right straight away.

Gale could be quick to anger if you weren't careful. Anything could set him off. I discovered this one afternoon during a private training session. Katniss was busy that day, discussing mentor stuff with Haymitch. Gale decided to test my knot tying skills on a snare to see how well it worked. I couldn't quite get my hands to perform the task correctly, the constant looping and tightening the knots perplexing me. Gale lost it after I had to start from scratch the third time. He yelled at me, saying I wouldn't have the time in the games to keep having to redo my snares. I screamed back, stating if he stopped standing over me, I might actually be able to perform the task. Let's just say the argument ended with us both calling it a day and not talking for a week.

After the night I realized I liked Gale, everything between us seemed to change. He was more reserved, almost protective about me. He didn't like to see me associating with the men from the Seam. I found this funny rather than embarrassing. I wasn't interested in any guys that lived in the Seam except one, Gale Hawthorne. It didn't help that the other guy I was interest in just so happened to live in the Merchants' quarters. Gale seemed oblivious to my feelings for Peeta Mellark. Although he seemed to notice Peeta's feelings for Katniss. Who by the way was still oblivious to this much to my apprehension.

Sadly, I had tried everything I could think of to put the two of them in the same room. I would drag Katniss to the bakery with the excuse to pick up candy for Prim. We would take walks through town together, walking by the bakery to say hello to Mr. Mellark and Peeta if he was there. I invited Peeta over to teach me how to bake before talking Katniss into staying for the lesson as well. Subtle comments about how nice or great Peeta was would escape me whenever we would run into him, hoping to spark interest from Katniss. Each attempt either resulted in Katniss running off to do something else or completely shooting down anything I say. I was very close to strangling her for her stubbornness. Why did I keep failing at matchmaking the two of them?

I keep wondering if I am subconsciously sabotaging myself when it concerns the two of them. Were my good intentions not necessarily helping either of them? This is a question I ask myself every time one of my ideas crashes and burns miserably. I was only looking out for my older sister. Was it wrong to want Katniss to be happy? Maybe I was just going about this the wrong way.

Sighing, I look out the window towards the falling snow. Prim is frolicking out front with Lady, giggling as a snowflake hits her nose. My little sister loved the snow despite the freezing temperatures that came with it. Winter was her favorite time of the year and my least. The icy roads and chilling winds never sat well with me, reminding me of a memory best forgotten. It was on a cold winter's day that we lost our father in the mine accident. If only he hadn't gone to work that morning, he may still be alive today.

I turn away from the window, tears blurring my vision from the phantom pain. The heartache of losing my father that day has never left me. I grip the seat of my chair, pushing down the sorrow that threatened to overcome me. Every year it was the same. With the first snowfall, my emotions would get the best of me, tearing open the wound from his death. All of us had different ways of dealing with his loss. Katniss hunted, Prim distracted herself, Mother shut herself in her room, and I fell apart. Just like I was doing right now.

Tears fell as the sobs overtook me, wordless cries escaping me from the bitter pain. My legs curled under me as I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The heartache refused to leave me as my mind shut down, trapping me in a world of memories. It was Katniss that found me hours later, still curled up in the same position sobbing. She held me as I gave in to my loss before exhausting myself to a dreamless sleep.

Spring

"You are getting better, Goldilocks." Gale smiles proudly at my handiwork, knowing all our hard work was starting to pay off. Three of the five arrows had hit the center of the makeshift target pinned to a distant tree. The other two had hit the outer edges of the target, much to my disappointment.

I pout, not liking that I still couldn't hit the center each time. Each day Katniss and Gale would train me for as long as they could, willingly giving up their free time to help me. With results like these, I felt like I was failing them. I was determined to excel in their teachings, pushing myself to succeed at every task presented to me. Sadly, it wasn't enough to get the outcome I wanted during the archery test today.

Gale notices me pouting, shaking his head at my childish behavior. "Come on, Goldilocks. Don't sulk." He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. My embarrassment at his close proximity makes me drop my bow in surprise, not expecting him to show such affection. What is going on?

"Gale?"

The question in my voice causes his grip on me to tighten, his voice sincere as he speaks. "It took Katniss a while to reach the level she is at today. Don't belittle your hard work." His reassuring words do nothing to ease my racing heart, his touch causing my skin to tingle under my light jacket.

Why was I reacting so much to his touch? Were my feelings growing for him quicker than I anticipated? I turn to bury my face in his shoulder, hoping to hide the blush that is burning my cheeks red. His other arm comes around to hug me as the one on my shoulder drops to my waist. With both arms encircling me, I feel the strength in them from the years of hunting and carrying heavy objects. Blushing deeper, I wonder why he is hugging me.

Lifting my head to look up at him, the redness on my cheeks is clearly visible to him. I swallow, my breath catching in my throat at his eyes meet mine. His warm smile causes butterflies to flutter in my stomach as shivers run up and down my spine. Why does his smile make me feel like this? Only one other person has ever made me feel like this, Peeta.

His eyes darken as I lick my lips, trying to find my voice. "Thank you…" My words are quiet, despite the loud beating of my heart to my ears. I stand up on my tippy toes, laying a brief kiss on his cheek. Gasping, I pull away from him before he can react, frightened by my own lack of self-control. Why did I just do that?

Turning so my back is to him, I clutch my chest to calm my racing heart. My hands are shaking from what I am feeling right now. Fear. Anticipation. Desire. The last emotion is foreign to me, almost out of place in my fourteen year old mind. Why did I do that? Didn't I have feelings for Peeta? Gale's voice startles me out of my musings before my thoughts get too far away from me.

"We should head back, Nightlock." He pauses as I turn to look at him, a blush still staining my cheeks. "It is getting close to dinnertime and I am expected back." His gruff tone sends chills across my skin, causing my breathing to pick up without notice.

I nod in agreement, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. Picking up the fallen bow and retrieving the arrows, I return them to their usual hiding places before following him back to District 12. Not a word is spoken between us on the walk back.

Summer

The reaping for the 73rd Annual Hunger Games was uneventful.

Well, as uneventful as a reaping could be in District 12. On the left side of the stage stood Katniss next to Haymitch, who had already been drunk since noon. The capitol woman, who my sister told me was named Effie, was standing in the center smiling at us. Her hair was blue this year, complimenting her better than the vibrant pink she sported the previous year. I was guessing she changed her hair color with each new Hunger Games, though her reasoning was beyond me. Maybe to give herself a unique flare each year? Shaking my head, I wonder if all capitol people were this odd.

I knew neither of the chosen tributes this year. A blonde girl by the name of Becca Reiner and a boy from the Seam named Amos Devlin were standing next to Effie. Becca was crying, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she fought to stay quiet. Amos wasn't showing any emotion at all, just shaking from fear or anger, I'm not sure. I felt horrible about the relief that flooded me when I heard Becca's name called. Was it a bad thing that I am thankful it wasn't me? I tune back in just in time to hear Effie's classic parting words.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Effie declares enthusiastically, clapping loudly over the microphone. A few people join her as others fidget, doing their best to avoid her gaze.

As the stage clears of Effie, Katniss, Haymitch, and the tributes, people start to leave while others mill about to talk. I leave my section, trying to catch sight of my family or anyone I know. Pushing through the crowd, it takes all my self-control not to yell at people to get out of my way. In my haste, I fail to see the person run into me, knocking me off balance, as they continue on their way. An arm to my left reaches out to steady me, saving me from a very nasty fall.

My body slams into their shoulder hard as a result, producing a painful groan from the helpful stranger. Catching my breath as I fight the growing throb in my arm, I look up into the pain filled eyes of Peeta Mellark. Suppressing my cry of surprise with my hand, I almost stumble in my haste to get away from him. Peeta's good arm is still holding my elbow as he catches me before I lose my balance again. A cry of pain escapes me as the force of his grip aggravates the tender skin from where our bodies banged together.

His hand lets go of me immediately, pulling back in surprise to my outburst. "Are you alright, Nightlock?" His voice is alarmed, not understanding why I am in pain. His blue eyes study me frantically, trying to figure out where I am injured.

I force a smile through the throbbing pain, not wanting him to worry about me. "I'm fine, Peeta." My words do little to reassure him as I fight to remain standing, my balance still shaky. I force myself to take a step forward to prove my point, only to trip into Peeta's arms. We both wince at the new contact, his shoulder hurting as much as my left arm.

A sheepish smile crosses my lips as I meet his gaze, blushing in embarrassment at my weakness. "Sorry Peeta," I mumble, a nervous laugh escaping me before I can stop it. "Guess I'm not alright." I hang my head at these words, wishing my body would cooperate with me. Why did it chose now of all times to show its fragility? This situation cannot get any worse. Peeta's laugh causes my blush to deepen. Ok, I was wrong. It can.

His right hand strokes my intricately braided hair as he fights to speak through his laughs. "Don't worry about it." He pats my head affectionately, making me want to hide, as he gasps the words out. Did he really just treat me like a little kid?

I groan, unintentionally hiding my face in his shirt. My groans increase as I realize what I'm doing, wanting to kick myself at my foolishness. This is so going in the top ten worst situations I ever got myself into. It even tops the situation with the Peacekeeper last summer, which is still one of the most embarrassing situations I've ever been in. His body had stiffened when I did this, his arms wrapping around me in an awkward hug. Taking a deep breath, I push down the embarrassment in my last ditch attempt to reclaim my dignity. Well the little dignity I had left. I slowly turn to look up at him, hoping my cheeks are no longer read. A serious expression crosses my face as I try to sound outraged. "Are you laughing at me, Peeta Mellark?"

Peeta's barely contained laughter at my question tells me that my attempt had failed. His eyes dance with mirth as he tries not to laugh in my face, his blonde hair falling over his eyes. My heart skips a beat as I realize how handsome he looks at the moment. The urge to brush the hair out of his face is strong. I barely catch myself in time as my hand reaches up and does just that.

My fingers are touching the tips of the locks as Peeta stiffens completely against me. All mirth had drained from his face, confusion and uncertainty at my actions shown plainly. I freeze, caught in his gaze as my body fights to breath. What the hell am I doing? No matter how much I try, I can't find the strength to pull away. The uncertainty in his eyes hurts me. Why can't he look at me the same way he does Kit-Kat?

The pain gives me the strength to move. My hand drops to my side as I roughly pull away from him, hissing in pain as I bump my arm against his. Our eyes are still locked, relief coming over his features as I back away. My feelings must be an open book to him now, easily read in my expression. Is that disappoint I see flicker in his eyes before disappearing? I must be hallucinating from the pain.

Forcing a happy smile is harder than I thought. I lick up lips, the words heavy on my tongue. "Well, see you around." Without a second thought, I break eye contact with him. Not wishing to wait for his answer, I turn and run off into the crowd as the tears start to fall. Within seconds, I disappear from his sight.

Autumn

To say I've been avoiding Peeta Mellark is an understatement. If I catch sight of him, I run in in the opposite direction. Prim thinks it's a new game I've invented. Bless her kind heart not to think the worse of me. The memory of that day haunts me, increasing the self-loathing I already feel for myself. My lack of self-control demonstrated in front of Peeta almost ruined everything. How could I be so stupid?

The recollection of his arms around me sends chills creeping down my spine every time. His intriguing blue eyes are engraved in my memory, the uncertainty within them still able to make my heart race. I try not to cry as I remember his relief at me pulling away from him, knowing that his intentions towards me are clear. There are no childish delusions left of him one day reciprocating my feelings. Peeta Mellark made it perfectly clear he has no romantic intentions towards me beyond friendship.

"Goldilocks?"

Gale's voice brings me back to the present, tears blurring the image of Gale's face. Why am I crying again? I rest my head on my arm, watching as Gale kneels in front of me. His rough hands stroke my hair before the fingertips graze the top of my cheeks, making me blush. His grey eyes meet my own, concern and affection reflecting in their depths. I grace him with a hesitant smile, unsure what exactly is going on between us.

After running away from Peeta in the square, I found Gale waiting for me at the edge of the crowd. Without a second thought, I ran into his arms and buiedy my face in his chest crying. He didn't ask me what happened or even if I was alright. He just held me, giving me the comfort I needed while asking for nothing in return. Our relationship changed that day into something I can't explain. We weren't lovers or friends. We were something in-between that I find hard to describe.

"Lock, talk to me." The desperation in his voice pulls at my heartstrings, making me want to tell him everything. But I can't. His eyes search mine, trying to see if I'm going to reply. Apparently satisfied with what he finds, Gale continues. "You've been different Goldilocks. Ever since the reaping, I catch you crying at least once a day. What happened to make you this way?"

I open my mouth to reply before closing it, knowing any words I say are meaningless. Tears collect in the corner of my eyes, streaking my cheeks as they fall. Gale's fingertips wipe away the escaping tears, his face leaning in towards mine. What is he doing? I pick up my head a bit, uncertainty flickering within their depths. With my free hand, I reach out towards him, stroking his cheek.

Gale smiles at me despite the scrutiny I feel under his gaze. What did he want me to say? That Peeta Mellark broke my heart and I am dying of heartache? I try not to laugh at how pathetic I sound. Is this what my feelings for Peeta have made me into? A hopeless mess of a girl who can't get over the rejection of a boy who clearly is interested in her sister. Wasn't I stronger then this?

"Nightlock, tell me what is wrong." His pleading tone makes me feel horrible. Why did Gale care so much about how I felt? I wasn't his sister, girlfriend, or even lover. Only the younger sister of the girl he loved from the Seam. Why do all my problems revolve around men who are in love with my sister? I smile despite my pain, wondering why I have such horrible taste in men.

Touching Gale's face with my free hand, I study his expression looking for something. I need to know I'm not over thinking. That I'm not making the same mistake again. He rests his cheek against my palm, studying me too. I lick my lips before daring to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "Gale?"

No words need to be said as he leans down and kisses me.

Winter

Well my initial plan to get Gale to kiss me didn't quite play out like I hoped. Don't get me wrong. He did kiss me…on the forehead. I remember the disappointment that flooded me as his lips grazed my skin. His reasoning for not kissing me is that he refused to take advantage of me. Something about me being a damsel in distress.

So my decision after this to avoid all contact with men didn't surprise me. I was sick of second guessing my feelings, giving into the weakness of affection. Maybe my sister had the right idea to avoid any delusions of love. I know she never wants kids. She told me when I asked if she was going to settle down now that her future was set.

Sighing, I stand just as Katniss walks in the front door. Her cheeks are red from the cold; her jacket zipped up all the way. Her hunting pack is swelling with the herbs Mother and Prim need along with meat she hadn't traded. I walk over to her as she drops the bag and hangs her jacket on a hook. Her arms encircle my waist as I hug her. "Welcome back Kit-Kat."

She laughs, rubbing my back with her hand. "It's good to be home, Lock. Anyone stop by while I was gone?"

I shake my head, gazing up into the beautiful face of my older sister. Despite the tousled hair and her red face from the cold, Katniss is very attractive. I always wondered why she never had a boyfriend. She could have anyone she wants yet she refused to date. Smiling, I pull out of her arms and head towards the kitchen, calling back to her. "Do you want tea, Kit-Kat?"

"Yes please!"

Setting water to boil on the stove, I peek out the doorway of the kitchen. Katniss is leaning against the wall next to the staircase, a peaceful smile on her face. "Good hunting?" I ask, knowing the task always brought her such happiness. We were taking a break from my training today, since I wanted sometime away from Gale.

"Yes. Gale and I managed to trap a few rabbits and squirrels, trading them for supplies. Even managed to sell four squirrels and a rabbit to the Mellarks for some bread rolls." She turns to look at me, the elation in her face warming my heart despite the mention of Peeta's family. "We were lucky. The old witch was out and that's the only time Mr. Mellark would trade with us." I nod absently, not really wishing to hear about the Mellark family.

I return to the kitchen, Katniss following me as she talks about the rest of the trades. The water is boiling, steam rising from the container as I pour it into two cups. Peppermint leaves are placed in each cup, one of my favorite flavors. I set the kettle down before handing one of the cups to Katniss. "Watch out. It's hot," I implore her, knowing she doesn't always remember to check the temperature before taking a sip.

"Oh, thank you." She takes the cup in her hands, smiling thankfully at me. "Smells good." I nod, taking a sip of my own and loving the bitter taste on my tongue. Katniss on the other hand is waiting for hers to cool a bit before braving a taste of the hot liquid. "He says hello by the way."

"Oh. I just saw Gale yesterday." I reply, taking another sip of the hot tea in my cup. Why would Gale tell her to say hello? Wouldn't he have stopped by today to say hello if he really wanted to see me. I will never understand men.

"Not Gale. Peeta says hello."

I nearly drop my cup, not believing what Katniss just told me. Coughing as I try to collect myself is hard. It took a lot of self-control not to spit my tea out at her in retaliation at her statement. I swallow the tea quickly as I glare at her amused expression, setting my half full cup down. "Don't do that Katniss. I could have choked."

Katniss frowns, not understanding why I'm so annoyed at her. "Is something wrong, Lock?" Her concerned expression sets off alarm bells in my head. Oh crap, did I just unconsciously admit to her I used to/still have feelings for Peeta?

Gesturing frantically with my hands in front of my face, I shake my head. "No, Kit-Kat. You just surprised me. That's all." I smile, hoping to alleviate any of the suspicions that have aroused in her. Please don't ask about Peeta. Please don't ask about Peeta."

"If you say so, Nightlock." She finally takes a sip of her tea, frowning at the bitter taste. "Not Peppermint again." I smile apologetically, knowing peppermint isn't her favorite flavor.

"Sorry, Katniss." I finish the rest of my tea in one gulp, not caring if it is bad manners. Looking up at her questionably, I suddenly remember something that has been bugging me for a while. "Katniss, will you be my mentor if I am chosen this year?"

The question catches her by surprise, the terror in her eyes alarming me. "Ah yes." She fidgets as her eyes harden studying me. "Why do you ask, Lock?"

I shrug, trying to make light of my question. "Well there is a high likelihood that I will be a tribute this year and I wanted to know if you or Haymitch would be mentoring me."

Relief floods her features as her tensed muscles relax, giving me an understanding smile. "Yes. I will be mentoring you along with Haymitch. We discovered we work best as a team for our tributes." A haunted look flicks across her face before disappearing, scaring me. What has my sister seen that is so horrible?

"Sounds good," I enthusiastically reply, trying to ease her nerves. It didn't work. The tension didn't leave our conversation for the rest of the day.

Spring

With a deep breath, I find the strength to knock on his door. Silence greets me, signifying that the occupant is still asleep. Knowing it is almost impossible to wake Haymitch up this early in the morning without dumping a bucket of water over his head, I hesitantly open the door. The stale stench of alcohol and vomit assaults me as the door swings up. I cover my nose with my sleeve, taking a step inside.

"Haymitch," I call, hoping that I won't have to go tracking through his house to find him. How anyone can live in such a pig sty is beyond me. Looking around the areas I can see, empty bottles lay everywhere with rotten food covering the remaining parts. I cringe in disgust, thankful that I wasn't the one to have to clean this mess up.

"Haymitch!" My voice reverberates through the rooms, carrying up the stairs. His usual spot collapsed at the table is vacant, much to my surprise. Did he actually make it up to his room? I tread carefully through the living area, not wishing to step in any week old vomit or rotten fruit. Heading towards the stairs, I peer up into the darken hallway in hopes he would appear at the top. I sigh as I begin to climb them as a voice shouts my name behind me.

"Nightlock! What are you doing here?"

I whirl around, eyes catching sight of a clean looking Haymitch. Gasping at the unfamiliar site, I stutter over my words as I reply. "Haymitch, is that you?"

He gives me his trademark grin, finding my shock at his appearance amusing. "Now sweetheart. Who else would live in this dump?" He gestures to the rooms filled of beer bottles and rotten fruit.

Nodding, I step down from the stairs, still in shock. What the heck happened to him? Did the capitol switch him out for a mutt or something? "Haymitch, what happened to you?"

He gestures for me to follow him outside, which I happily comply this. He leans against the outer wall of his house, studying me. "I decided to get cleaned up a bit today, sweetheart." He smirks at me, the clearness in his eyes unnerving me. I was so used to the drunken haze that it was hard to understand why he was sober. It is because of this that I am suspicious of the new Haymitch.

"Why are you sober Haymitch?"

He shrugs, grinning cockily at me. "Is it so hard to believe that I wanted to be clean today?" The sarcasm in his voice annoys me, almost as if he was mocking my concern for him.

Hands on my hips, I glare at him angrily. "Did Katniss threaten you to get your act together?" I accuse him, knowing he doesn't have the willpower to achieve something like this on his own. Was my sister trying to help him? I know she liked the crazy bastard but that didn't mean I had to.

A flicker of hurt appears in his eyes before they harden in contempt. "That is none of your business, sweetheart." His words drip with disdain, making me question if I went too far. "What I do or don't do is up to me. It isn't any business of yours."

I nod, swallowing nervously at his hateful expression. Now I really did it.

Haymitch pushes me to the side, marching past me as he slams the door behind him. I cringe, knowing I pushed him too far this time. Haymitch and I were both too pig headed for our own good. If I didn't get my act together, he might just try to kill me on purpose if I am a tribute.

Summer

It was the 74th Annual Hunger Games that opened my sister's eyes to the power she possessed over the people of Panem. All the displays of minor rebellion had been leading up to this.

This was the beginning of her tale as the Mockingjay, the hope of Panem.