The following morning I reluctantly take my seat in the classroom and rub my temple with my left hand. Already it's a bad day. I didn't manage to kill anything in the woods last night and we had to settle for broth for dinner. My head is aching and I barely got any sleep, tossing and turning as I worried about this upcoming project. Maybe I'm being silly for having such an adverse reaction to what I know is essentially just an economics exercise but I'm not comfortable even pretending that some guy I barely know is my husband. Even if it's strictly pretend and only about the numbers I will still have to work closely with some boy and constantly talk about "we" and "us". I never wanted to be an "us", not even for a school project.
I fervently pray that I will be one of the last girls called to pick a partner. I have a feeling that no matter who I pick it's going to get awkward. None of the guys have spoken more than three sentences with me over the years and whichever guy I choose it will seem completely out of the blue. How I hope the guy I end up choosing won't read more into it than what it is. Or that he won't have a girlfriend in our class!
My eyes drift over the classroom and land on Peeta Mellark. He's sitting three rows ahead of me and far to the right. I can see the back of his head and the hint of a profile. He actually asked me to pick him. I still can't figure out why, though I've been mulling it over all night. The only explanation I have been able to come up with is that I'm the only girl he figures won't have somebody in mind already, which makes me mad. I suppose I could pick him to be my partner but the truth is I don't want to. I'm not comfortable around him. The great debt I owe him will always hang there in the air between us. Would he even be comfortable around me if he had to work side by side with me for an extended period of time? It's not like we have anything in common, what with him being from the town and me being from the Seam and him being sociable and popular while I'm a grumpy recluse with fewer friends than I have fingers on one hand.
What would I even say if I was his partner? Sooner or later I would feel compelled to mention the incident with the bread six and a half years ago. Does he even remember it? I know I should have said something to him right after it happened, but I didn't, and saying something now just seems weird. On the other hand if I work with him on this for a while and I never bring up the debt I owe him that would seem rude. Unless of course he has forgotten about that day in the rain. Perhaps for him that day held no significance. Just one day among all the rest, the act of giving bread to someone on the street a mere parenthesis.
I'm drawn from my thoughts when Mr. Stoker begins the class. After the pledging of allegiance to the Capitol, which opens every school day, Mr. Stoker moves right on to the pairing up process. I'm relieved to see that he won't be drawing names on the spot. That would be far too reminiscent of the reaping. Instead he and the other two teachers involved in the project did the drawing of names at an earlier time and he now has a list where he will be filling in the name of each girl's chosen partner right next to her own name.
Mr. Stoker gets started and calls the name of a Seam girl sitting far back in the classroom. She picks the boy sitting behind me and I mentally cross his name off the list of potential partners. The more it can be narrowed down, the better.
Unfortunately for me there's only one other name called before mine. When I hear Mr. Stoker say my name I look up and immediately feel myself blush.
"Well, Katniss?" says Mr. Stoker.
"I... Uhm..." My eyes trail quickly over the classroom and then after a brief moment of panic I blurt out the one name I can think of. "Peeta Mellark."
I hear a few kids in class mumble something and I blush again and wish I had my hair down so I could hide my face behind it, something I haven't done in years. It's inevitable that a few Seam girls will end up paired with a merchant boy since there are more boys than girls from the merchant class but nobody expected it to happen so early in the list and certainly not by my choosing.
Mr. Stoker repeats the name and jots it down next to my own. My eyes go to Peeta and he has his head turned to look at me. He smiles and mouths something; I think it's "thank you". I can't seem to meet his eyes for any longer so I look away and this time my eyes land on Mallory Grey. I suppose Peeta was right about her wanting to pick him because the look she gives me almost makes me understand why Peeta finds her scary.
I focus my attention on the textbook open in front of me on my desk just to have something to occupy my mind with other than Peeta Mellark and this assignment and how awkward the following months will be. The book in front of me ought to suffice to take my mind off of that. The history of coal and coal mining. I've often wished we could learn more about the industries of other districts but it's all coal, all the time. In fact, we don't even get to learn about other districts, except what their main industry is. I'm stuck reading about coal and coal mining the same way I'm stuck living in the Seam and stuck having to do this project with a partner I never should have chosen.
More girls are called upon to choose their partner and eventually it's Madge's turn. She partners up with Harry Storm, a merchant boy I think she might be interested in. We never talk about things like that, Madge and I, but I've caught her looking at him sometimes in the cafeteria. Other girls would probably have asked her about it and wanted details but I know she won't expect that from me. It's an unspoken agreement between us that if one of us wants to talk about something like that we'll bring it up. We don't ask each other personal questions unless we know it's okay to do so.
Once everyone has been partnered up, three of the boys getting to work together on separate scenarios in which they will end up bachelors, the regular class continues and no further mention is made of the project.
Until class is over and we have ten minutes before the next one, that is.
Immediately people begin to talk about the project, many gathering in little groups to gossip about which girls picked which guys. I find the whole thing inane and tiresome and together with Madge I gather my things and quietly head for the next class, which is English. My head is still aching and I'm feeling irritated by all the noise people are making. Don't these people ever keep quiet?
On our way to the next classroom a hand on my arm stops me and I turn around to find myself face to face with Mallory Grey. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a high ponytail and her green eyes have a dark look in them as she frowns at me.
"Katniss, right?" she says.
She knows my name very well even if she's pretending not to. We may not have spoken but we've been classmates for twelve years. Everybody knows everybody's name.
"Molly, right?" I reply, just to annoy her.
"It's Mallory, actually" she corrects me.
"Oh. Sorry."
"I'm a little curious, perhaps you could enlighten me."
"Okay" I mumble, not at all comfortable having this conversation.
"My friends and I were just wondering what caused a Seam girl to pick a guy from town to be her partner in this project. I mean, you do realize that-"
Before she can tell me what I apparently already realize Peeta's voice cuts her off.
"I think it was a brilliant idea" he says, earning him a glare from Mallory which he ignores. He walks up and stops beside me, leaving only an inch or two of space between us. "I think this whole boring thing will be much more interesting when I'm paired with Katniss. There's a whole difference-of-perspective angle to it."
"You mean lower class/ middle class" says Mallory surly.
"Being paired with someone from the Seam brings a whole other set of interesting challenges" claims Peeta and I don't know if I should be offended by that or not. "And it's not like it's unheard of for someone from town to marry someone from the Seam."
I pointedly avert my eyes as to not look at either one of them. It's not hard to figure out what couple he's referring to and I don't like hearing someone I don't really know talk about my parents that way. This is the second time Peeta has referred to my parents in less than twenty-four hours and I wish he would stop doing it. It's not like he knows my mother or knew my father.
"Oh" says Mallory, sounding irritated but a bit unsure. She cocks her neck, sending her blonde ponytail swaying. "That's what this is about?"
"Uh-huh" says Peeta casually. He turns his head as one of his friends calls him over. "See you girls later; I think Matt wants to talk to me."
He walks off, giving me a look I can't decipher, and I'm left alone with Mallory Grey. Madge has already walked inside the classroom and I'm planning to do the same thing myself when Mallory stops me once more.
"I don't know what your agenda is here but it's obvious that Peeta's is only about the project" she says.
"What else would it be about?" I ask tiredly.
"That's the spirit" she chirps.
She walks past me into the classroom and takes a seat next to two of her friends, immediately beginning to chat with them. Feeling my headache getting worse I walk inside and take my seat next to Madge. I open my English textbook and try to muster up the interest to care about adverbs and adjectives.
The class begins and I try my best to pay attention. Really though, all I can seem to think about is getting food on the table and, for some annoying reason, what Mallory was really talking about.
Sunday morning I get up early and head out to the woods. It's cold out and I'm freezing, no doubt having an extra hard time keeping warm since I haven't had a decent meal in a while. My mouth waters when I think about the game I could bring home today. I want something with a lot of rich meat on its bones, like a larger bird or even a wild pig. The dream scenario would of course to fell a deer but let's be honest, if I'm all alone it will be a waste of meat since there is no way I can drag such an animal back to town by my lonesome.
I hope Gale will be out in the woods today, not just for his help hunting. Most Sundays he is out here with me but sometimes he's too tired from his work in the mines and Hazelle makes him stay home and rest. When he first started working there he would claim that being out in the woods was his rest but now, a year and a half later, it's clear that sometimes he needs to just sit at home and do nothing and let his body relax.
I make my way to our glade and a wide smile spreads on my face when I see him sitting there, his fingers playing with a new snare. I call his name and he turns his head towards me, his smile matching my own. We haven't seen each other since last Sunday and this week has seemed particularly long. He gets up and greets me with a hug. He doesn't normally do that but I don't mind that he does. His embrace is warm and helps with the cold.
"I'm glad you're here" I tell him. "How was your week?"
"Nothing worth talking about" he shrugs. "Same as every week. Come, sit."
We take our seats on the log and Gale reaches inside his game back and produces a thermos. There's only hot water with a touch of milk inside but I don't mind. It's warm and that's all that matters. Fishing my mug from my own bag I hold it out to him and let him fill it up. I hold the mug with both hands, letting the warm liquid heat the mug and by extension heat my hands.
For forty-five minutes we sit there in comfortable silence, waiting for game to come by and watching the sun begin to rise. Then we start to get really cold and Gale suggests that we go check the snares and at the same time increase our body heat. Together we head down the familiar paths, both of us constantly alert for any possible animals that we might send an arrow through.
Two hours later we're back in the glade, both of us in great spirits. It's still cold, snow has begun to fall, but we have three squirrels and two rabbits in our bags and we know both our families will be eating tonight.
"I miss being out here every day" sighs Gale wistfully, leaning back against a tree trunk, letting his game bag drop to the ground.
"I'm trying to savour it" I reply. "Seven more months and then I'm out of school, too, and forced to take a job."
"What if you didn't have to take a job?" asks Gale after a bit of a pause.
"Don't be ridiculous" I snort. "I'll be eighteen going on nineteen, hopefully surviving my last reaping, no longer eligible for tesserae. I have to feed my family somehow." He looks like he's about to reply but I laugh shortly and shake my head. "You know what they've got us doing in school? A project where we're paired up in pretend marriage and have to work out our financial situation."
"I remember that project" nods Gale. "Waste of time."
"What? You did that, too? They told us this was the first time."
"Well it's not. Every senior class does it. Three wasted weeks, if you ask me."
"Three weeks? We have to keep it up for five months."
Gale whistles.
"I guess that's the new part." He harks. "So who are you partnered up with?"
For some reason my cheeks feel red. I hope it's just the cold, or at least that Gale will write it off as such.
"Peeta Mellark" I tell him while staring at the ground, the name coming out as more of a mumble than a clear answer.
"I don't know who that is."
"Do you know any of the guys in my class?" I retort, raising my eyebrows. "Actually you do know who he is."
"Wait... One of the baker's sons?"
"Yes."
Gale nods slowly.
"A merchant. Was it your pick?"
"Yeah" I say warily, wondering what all the questions are about.
"I get why you picked him" says Gale. "You've seen him a couple of times when we're there to sell his father squirrels."
"I see him every day at school" I point out. I don't want to talk to Gale about Peeta so I turn the focus over on him. "Who was your partner?"
"Elsie Blum."
I shrug. I don't know who that is. Probably one of the first Seam girls who to pick partners if it was ladies' choice that year too. I can imagine most of them having wanted to team up with Gale.
"It's a shame we weren't in the same class" says Gale. "It would have been a lot more fun doing that project with you."
I frown and wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to keep warm. Would it have been fun working with Gale on this project? Gale is my friend and for that reason I think it would have been easier to work with him than any of the other guys but because he's my friend I don't know if I'd be able to pretend he was my husband, even if pretending only extends as far as having to agree on a budget.
"Either way it's a stupid project" I say.
"Well you picked a merchant to partner up with so at least you'll have a better income than most other Seam girls" Gale says, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "Unless they send you both to live in the Seam."
"I suppose. I don't care about that, though. It's all just make-believe."
"It's stupid" Gale says with a nod. "Come along, I can see you're freezing. Let's head to the Hob and see if we can trade the squirrels for some of Sae's soup."
"Why not go to the bakery?" I ask. Usually we offer the squirrels to Mr. Mellark first.
"I want soup" says Gale.
I wouldn't mind a bowl of soup myself so I grab my game bag and follow Gale as he heads back to town. The snow has stopped falling but about an inch remains on the ground. My fingers are ice cold and my gloves have several holes in them. I can get by anyway but it worries me that Prim's gloves are in as bad shape as mine, being an old pair I used to wear to the woods. This afternoon, after my rabbit has been skinned, I think I'll head back to the Hob and see if I can trade the fur in for a pair of gloves. The fur itself can be made to really nice ones but I don't know how to make gloves and if I want a pair made from the fur I've got I need to pay for the work. Better to trade what I have and get a pair of gloves in return, a pair I might be able to bring home to my sister this very afternoon.