Part 11

All through class Katniss could barely concentrate. Luckily the undergrad students were taking an exam and all she really needed to do was monitor the room. She spent the majority of the time biting each and every one of her nails down to the quick.

'You really need to get a grip' she told herself. The truth was, she had a perfectly nice time taking that walk with Peeta and she wouldn't mind doing it again. So then why had she run out of the coffee shop before he could come back from the kitchen to say goodbye? And how on earth was she going to return his sweatshirt now that she made such a fool of herself by running out so fast?

She didn't even realize she had groaned out loud until she caught the unfriendly stare of one of the undergrads who looked up from his exam, clearly disturbed.

Luckily for Katniss, she didn't have to worry about the situation for very long. As she walked back across campus toward her car after class she felt her phone buzz with an incoming text. One nervous glance confirmed it was from Peeta.

Peeta: You forgot something

The sweatshirt! He must surely think she was a complete idiot. Katniss stopped walking and texted back immediately.

Katniss: I know. so sorry. will drop your sweatshirt back at coffee shop.

Peeta: not what I meant. keep it.

Katniss scowled at the screen on her phone, punching in a lone question mark as her response. What else could she have forgotten, unless he meant that she forgot to say goodbye? She had her backpack, and even the bag containing the leftover cheese buns. There wasn't anything else. She walked on a little further and heard her phone buzz again.

Peeta: Meet me at student center tomorrow for lunch & I'll give it to u then. 11:30, near art gallery

So he wasn't mad at her for not saying goodbye, then. He should be. Katniss could not figure him out at all. And she certainly could not figure out what she had forgotten that he needed to give her tomorrow. Sighing, she texted back a simple "K" and put her phone away.

...

Peeta was wearing his trademark smile the next day, waiting patiently by the art gallery entrance as Katniss approached. She felt her worried frown dissipate under his happy demeanor. As soon as she was in front of him he reached out and pulled her into a warm hug, wrapping his arms around her tightly and swaying her gently from side to side. With one final squeeze he released her, a self satisfied grin on his face to counter her confused expression.

"You forgot that yesterday," he quipped.

Katniss felt the laughter bubble to the surface before she could stop it. Was this guy for real? He was so cheesy it was embarrassing, and yet she found herself drawn to him in a way that she never had been to anyone before. If she wasn't careful she might become addicted to his charming ways.

"Aren't you mad at me?" she asked shyly, looking up into his sparkling blue eyes.

"You mean because you ran out on me yesterday before I could say goodbye?" he teased.

Katniss' gaze fell to the floor. She knew how unbelievably rude she had been.

"It was your loss, you know. You could have had that hug last night," he continued with a hint of mirth in his voice. "I guess I could let you off the hook if you have lunch with me now."

Katniss looked up, smirking at him. "Okay," she said.

...

Over lunch Peeta told her all about his internship at the art gallery downtown. He was working under the curator and helping to change the exhibits, as well as plan and execute showings.

"Wow, Peeta, that sounds really promising," Katniss said. "You'll have to let me know when you have an exhibit there."

Peeta rubbed at the back of his neck, a sign that Katniss had come to know meant he was feeling nervous or shy. "I seriously doubt I'll ever have anything good enough to exhibit in such a large gallery," he said, modestly.

"That's not true!" she exclaimed, reaching out and claiming his forearm in a tight grip. Both of their eyes landed on the spot where she held his arm at the same moment and she felt herself blush.

"I've seen your paintings," she said more softly, loosening her grasp on his arm and moving her hand back to the tabletop. "Peeta, they're amazing."

"Thank you," he said, sincerely.

Casually, almost as if he was afraid she would pull away, he lifted her hand from the table where it now lay and turned it over in his own. When she didn't immediately recoil, he very deliberately ran his thumb over the callouses that marked the underside of her knuckles, causing her breath to catch in her throat suddenly. Coming to her senses, she pulled her hand back suddenly, rubbing it with her other hand as she shrugged and told him, "Archery can be rough on my hands."

He nodded, biting his lower lip, a look of slight amusement on his face. But he did not try to touch her again. Instead he asked her what kind of bow she prefered to use and then listened intently as she explained all about the kids she taught archery to on the weekends. Several times she thought she might be repeating a story she had already told him before, but if he had already heard it he didn't seem to mind.