a/n: hey guys :) I was so happy when I saw that around 13 people (including guests) reviewed the last chapter ! thanks guys so much :)

- I know this story is going slowly, but I'm just writing about their transition between elematry school and high school, because that's always interesting. After maybe another chapter I'm going to skip ahead a semester and write a bit more about YouTube itself. but let's face it. they've got more imprtant things to do, and this is a busy time for Katniss and Peeta.
- I am aware that this chapter is a but shorter, but I just started school, so I won't have as much time, because I'm gonna be doing that, buy stay faithful ! I will update as soon as I can !
- basically, what Peeta means at the bottom, is in order for Katniss to earn money volunteering, she has to have a partner, which is where Peeta comes in.

okay, I don't own the Hunger Games.

let's get started !

I already feel the whispers about us. Katniss is as oblivious as ever, asking me why all the boys point and whisper about her. I face-palm at her question. Math went pretty well, the teacher was nice. She was normal. What wasn't normal about the class were the bozo's sitting behind Katniss and I, snickering away at our shared whispers and our arms pressed against each other. I mean, we share a long table, and the person on the other table beside me picks his nose and flicks it somewhere to rot. Ew. No-one ever mentioned high school being kind of disgusting. Thank you, Gabe, for that very useful information. It's a whole lot fun though. French went pretty well, mostly because no-one was behind me throwing comments at my every move that involved Katniss. Katniss is one of the only girls in our French class, and the boys with the "blonde-boy disease" kept sneaking glances at her. And Katniss, being Katniss, brushes them off, thinking her hair is out of place among the blonde-heads. Katniss is the only dark-haired girl around here, I swear. Well, Johanna doesn't count. Her hair is more reddish than brown. And she's still freaky as ever. I saw her when Finnick Odair threw me a wink and a smirk while passing the cafeteria on the way to our other class. Are all 10th graders freaky? I think so.

"Peeta? Do you want the rest of my french-fries?" I hear Katniss ask behind me. I turn to see her sitting on the floor, criss-cross, with her colourful backpack beside her. I see her hold out the plate of uneaten fries in my direction. I hear Gale sigh in front of me.
"Kaatniss.." he whines. "I'm disappointed in you." He scolds playfully, shaking his head while Katniss rolls her eyes. I chuckle a little and go back to my homework, listening to Gale scold Katniss and feeling Katniss glare at Gale.
Okay, I'm fourteen years old, my birthday is the 18th of February, my favourite vegetable is spinach-thwack!
Something like a book hits me in the face. My face burns in heat.
"Peeta, you're a freak." I hear Gabe say. I lift my head up from the "get to know you better!" sheet, and deadpan at Gabe. I glare at him and he shrugs, smiling innocently.
"You're doing homework when you're supposed to be eating and laughing!" he exclaims, waving his arms around in an odd manner. I sigh and look back down. Now I realize he is right. I mean, nothing is wrong with getting a head-start, but lunch break is only an hour long. And I haven't even touched my sandwich yet. Katniss has already eaten her rice, her poutine, and the muffin I got her from the house. She's like an eating machine.
"Guys, come on. If Peeta wants to get a start on homework let him." I hear Katniss say beside me. I nudge her in thanks. I busy myself with placing all the stray papers in my binder back in the rings, and I finally finish my sandwich a few minutes later.
"Okay, who wants an ice-cream sandwich?" Gabe asks. Gale, Katniss and Drew glance at each other. They're going to say no. I know it. Gale told me they were brought up to have very polite manners, yet still be considerate and friendly. But they will say no.
"It's okay Gabe, we're alright." Gale says quietly, and for once, Drew doesn't disagree with Gale. I take a look at Katniss who is playing Tiny Tower on my phone, trying to pretend she hasn't heard anything.
"Gabe, just get them some." I say. Gale looks down, taking another bite of sandwich, and Drew swallows. They have been raised with great pride. I know they aren't very financially stable, Mr. Hawthorne is an architect, and some days he doesn't have any projects. It's Mrs. Hawthorne, or Hazelle as we call her, who brings in a steady amount of money in the household; not a lot, but she is the one who has a steady job. She works as a washer woman, at a local coin laundry. I like Hazelle. Respect her. With three high-schoolers, two steadily growing kids, and a baby, she works and comes home with a smile on her face. Gale also has a job coming up with slogans for t-shirts and posters. I know for a fact that he brings home a wad of cash and a new t-shirt every weekend. And Katniss doesn't work officially yet. She is a junior helper at an archery range ten minutes away from here. And I know that she serves at the toddlers nursery at her local church on Sunday mornings. Now that I'd like to see. Our YouTube account doesn't make money. We have to be a certain age to become a YouTube partner. But the next time Andrew comes home I'll ask us if he can help us out. Katniss' family needs the money. And I'm willing to do whatever to help out. And apparently, that includes helping out with little kids on Sunday mornings.

May the odds be ever in our favour.