Author's Note:
It is really hard to stay motivated and focused in the summertime. Really hard. Thank you to all of you who bother sticking with me. If not for that, my story would probably be on hiatus. Instead, I'm just posting continuously slow updates.
As a result, this chapter is technically incomplete. But it took me sooooo long (wrote it, scrapped it, rewrote it, edited so much that I might as well have re-rewritten it, etc.) that I'm just going to post this now, and the second half as a separate chapter. Once both are done, I'll probably combine them. So if it seems to stop rather suddenly, that is why.
"Guess what I did on Wednesday," I say cheerfully as Gale sits down at my kitchen table. After some thought on the matter, I decided that the best course of action would just be to come clean. I expect that he will be annoyed to hear about my field trip with Katniss, but I'm betting that he'll be less annoyed than if he hears it from her tomorrow.
He squints at me appraisingly as I nudge a cup of warm tea across the table. "I thought something was different when you opened the door…. You brushed out that mess of a ponytail, didn't you?"
I scowl and wish for something to throw at him. The only thing immediately handy is my own cup of tea, and while the result would be satisfying it would also be messy. I don't feel like cleaning anything up right now, so I settle for kicking him under the table as he takes a sip from his mug. He must have one leg stretched out in front of him because my shoe connects with his shin much sooner than I anticipate, resulting in a much harder kick than intended. I almost feel bad. Almost.
"Ow!" he chokes as liquid splashes up over his nose and then down the front of his shirt.
"It would kill you to say something nice to me, wouldn't it?" I say as I feign offense. "You'd just… shrivel up and crumble into a little pile of dust."
Gale laughs at this suggestion. "Hey, I was being nice!" Truthfully, my ponytail is in better shape than usual at the moment. But he is incapable of praise unless it is backhanded. I am familiar with this routine at this point, but I won't turn down the chance to give him a hard time.
"I can just imagine the death certificate that would come with the little box of remains they'd send to your mother: 'Cause of death: Complimenting Madge Undersee.'"
"Mom would be devastated," he says. "So I obviously have to be careful about it." Gale wipes his sleeve across his face to mop up the tea, but he realizes too late that the reflex has only worsened the situation; dust from his uniform leaves dark streaks in the place of the spilled beverage. "Oh, hell."
My straight face slips a bit when I can't help but giggle at the sight and his reaction. "You're just a mess," I say as I get up to dampen a dishtowel under the faucet so he can clean himself up better.
"I know, imagine that!" he says with playful surprise. "It's me and not you for a change."
I spin and pitch the towel at his head, glad to finally have some ammunition that I can throw relatively safely. Gale seems to expect this, though, and he catches it with ease. "You are all piss and vinegar today," he chuckles as he rises from his chair and wipes the worst of the coal dust from his face. Then in one fluid motion, he tosses the towel into the sink behind me and sweeps me up in his arms the way the breeze swirls fallen leaves up in midair. He sets me on the edge of the counter and leans in close; from the way his silver gaze drifts over my face I can tell he likes the sparring. His nearness, his warmth and strength are dizzying even though they are so familiar to me now. His fingertips flex into the small of my back while a seductively wolfish smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and I prepare to make a game of the coming kiss, play a little hard to get, make him work for it. "What did you do on Wednesday?"
The words snap me back to reality like a rubber band pulled too tight. Clearly the question is meant as part of this play between us, an indication that he enjoys the feistiness that I've thrown back at him and is simply curious about what may have sparked it. I'm pretty sure that my answer will ruin this moment, but I know I'll have to tell him eventually so I brace myself and try to slide it in as smoothly as I can. Maybe if I say it like I expect him to approve, he'll go along with it. "I went for a walk in the woods."
He becomes utterly still and the smile disappears. The silver darkens to steel as his eyes lock on mine. "What?" he asks calmly after a long pause.
The calmness is almost worse than losing his temper would have been. I can't tell if he is angry, sad, frightened, or simply confused. I can tell that he is not happy. "Not by myself," I explain, hoping to put him a little more at ease. "Katniss took me."
He tenses at this, closes his eyes, clenches his jaw. How did that just make it worse? When he steps back from me my skin still tingles from the contact, as of some part of me was ripped away. An echo of the smile flickers over his features, but this time it is nothing but melancholy. "I wanted to," he says quietly.
I blink at him once, twice. He wanted to? He isn't so much irritated as disappointed. I can hardly believe it. "You… never asked," I say gently.
Gale shakes his head. "I thought maybe you'd want to go, but I wanted to do it my way... make sure…." Finally he looks me in the eye again and for a second he appears almost desperate. "Please tell me she at least showed you how to climb a tree or how to listen or –"
I frown, somewhat confused. "No," I say as I slip down from my perch on the countertop, "she-"
"Dammit!" One hand runs through his dark hair in a gesture of intense frustration. "That's why I wanted to take you. She didn't even think…." A pained sound escapes him as it becomes clear that this flare of anger is directed toward Katniss, not at me. He seems to notice that I am still a bit puzzled, and seems to make an effort not to be overly annoyed that I'm lagging behind. "Those are the kinds of things that help keep you safe out there," he says. "I'd have made sure you knew that."
Though I am touched by his concern, I don't want him to be angry at his friend, and I don't like him thinking I am helpless. "She showed me how to use her bow," I offer, hoping to allay some of his worries. But the moment the words pass my lips, I know they are the wrong ones.
….
It was disappointing to hear that Katniss had taken Madge to see the forest first. I had wanted that privilege, but I could still bring her with me sometime. Then it was infuriating that she was so careless about it, not bothering to ensure that Madge could scale a tree well enough to escape an aggressive buck or wild dog if necessary, or listen for the heavy lumbering of a bear or the rhythm of human footfalls, or determine cardinal directions if lost. It would have been the very first thing I would have done. But to learn that she had given Madge her bow….
"She showed you how to use her bow," I repeat, just to make sure there is no chance that I misheard what she said.
Madge frowns again as she nods, as if not quite understanding why I am not happy about this news. It only makes me angrier because, of anyone, she ought to be the one to understand.
"And you took it when she offered it to you?"
"Yes," she says, like it should be obvious.
"What the hell, Madge!" I snarl. I don't know which is worse – that Katniss was stupid enough to do something like this, or that Madge was stupid enough to go along with it. "Bad enough that you went outside the fence, and then you let her give you a fucking weapon? After everything I told you…." I can't even bring myself to finish the sentence. It hadn't been an easy thing to tell her about Rory.
Her stare hardens, the way it does when she digs in her heels. When she's not going to let me win. Usually, I like it. But this time it's for real. This time it matters. "She showed me how to shoot an arrow at a tree, Gale." Her tone clearly indicates that she thinks I am being overdramatic.
"So? You struck me as smarter than that. I thought for a second that if she did something stupid or reckless at least you'd use your head."
She doesn't slap me, but I'd bet my paycheck that she thought about it. I wouldn't have blamed her, though; I have to admit it was a mean thing to say. Instead, she snatches up a handful of the front of my shirt and pulls me to the door, blue eyes all fire and ice, while a small, stubborn part of my brain tells me that under any other set of circumstances this would be fun. "I am not doing this inside and risking waking up my mother," she says. She flings the door open and drags me through the garden outside to the back of the yard where we had spent so many evenings together.
Madge turns to face me without loosening her grip. "I'm not an idiot, Gale, and I didn't just brush aside the things you told me about Rory. She showed me how to shoot an arrow. We didn't bring back any game. We didn't hunt." She releases my shirt the same way she would drop an apple if she discovered that it was crawling with ants. "What the hell is your problem? You say you wanted to take me and now you're pissed off because I went."
"No," I correct her acidly, "I'm pissed off because neither of you thought about the fact that it doesn't matter if you hunt or not, especially because you don't hunt. If you got caught, no one would care what you were shooting at. What if a peacekeeper walked by and wondered what you were doing crawling under the fence, decided to follow, saw what you were doing? What if someone else noticed and wanted to get you into trouble? Then what would you have done? All of a sudden you're not just going for a walk – you're practicing with a deadly weapon."
"I'd have told them that I was so impressed by our esteemed Victor that I begged her to show me how she used a bow and arrow to win the Games. I'd have been the perfect, stupid, brainwashed little citizen," she says with rather convincing confidence before her voice turns hateful again. "Believe it or not, the thought occurred to me," she says venomously as she taps one temple.
"What if they didn't believe you? Then what?" I counter. Doesn't she see that I see every awful way this could end for her?
She stares at me for a moment, incredulous that I think that someone might not buy that lie. "As far as all of District Twelve is concerned, I'm the heartless bitch that thought this was the best Hunger Games ever."
"You didn't mean that, either."
"You know that. Prim knows that. Do you honestly think that anyone else would have bothered wondering whether I meant it or not? They'd have believed me."
She has a point, and it stings a little. It wasn't long ago that I'd have been one of the ones willing to take that comment for face value. In truth it was mostly because when you can't have something that you want, it's easier to talk yourself into hating it than to just keep wanting it - but I'd have been willing just the same. They'd have likely believed her if she gave them that story, and though it would likely have saved her life something about it makes me a little sad.
"So yes, Gale, I'm smarter than that," she spits. "You know, I figured that you'd be irritated that I went, but I never thought you'd call me stupid."
Madge turns on her heel to walk away from me, but I know I cannot let this end this way. I reach out and grab her arm as gently as I can, pull her back close to me even though everything about her says that she'd rather be anywhere else right now. "Just… listen to me for a second." Her expression changes just a shade, as if she is waiting patiently for me to finish what I have to say so she can go but isn't really listening. "I know you're not stupid," I begin, which seems to soften her a little. "I haven't asked you to come with me because I've spent weeks thinking about every possible way that something could go wrong and how to be careful about it. Then I find out that you went and did the one thing that I would never have let happen because it worried me the most." I pause for a second as she lets her eyes fall away from mine, soaking up the little details of this fierce, fearless gem of a girl that I could have lost. I don't ever want to feel what it's like to lose her. "It scared the hell outta me," I confess.
Madge lets her arms slide all the way around me as her eyes meet mine again. She is less angry now, but still utterly serious. "Don't worry about me," she says. Then her perfect lips twitch into a mischievous smile. "I've gotten away with worse."
This pulls dangerously at my curiosity, but I won't let myself get sidetracked. "Don't do it again."
The scowl returns immediately. "That's not how it works. You don't get to tell me what I'm allowed to do, Gale, any more than I get to tell you."
It was worth a shot. But in some ways, it would have been a disappointment if she had agreed. She doesn't back down, not even from me. "I had a feeling you'd say that. But I don't want something to happen to you."
Her bright blue eyes close, and when they reopen they seem kinder. "So take me with you then, like you said." She says this as if offering it as a compromise, as if to try to do it my way. She may not let me give her orders or make demands, but she is sensitive to my concerns. Willing to meet me somewhere in the middle.
"Alright," I agree. I've spent years learning to barter, and I know when I can't get more out of a deal. "Not tonight though. We're losing light fast. Maybe tomorrow, if I can get away?"
"Okay," she says.
I give her a small smile, glad to no longer be at odds. "You gonna argue with everything I tell you?"
She looks shocked that I should even have to ask. "Of course," she deadpans before breaking into a smile that makes me feel touch lightheaded.
I shake my head. "That's good, I guess. I wouldn't know what the hell else to do with you otherwise."
"Oh, you're pretty resourceful," Madge says as she leans into me a little more and cocks her head as if thinking hard about it. "I'm sure you'd think of something."
This makes me laugh, and I wonder again at the way she wrings it out of me even after I'd been so furious only moments ago. She always sees me so clearly, always knows. My hands come up and cradle her face as I press a kiss to her lips. "Yeah, I guess I'd figure something out."