Chapter 6

The Acquaintance

…

It has been four days since I had last seen Peeta, since we had… since we had broken up. He has not contacted me and neither had I to him. His stuff is still at my flat and mine at his. I'm not sure how this goes and truly have come to the conclusion that maybe if I do nothing maybe I can trick myself in thinking nothing has changed, that I was still in a relationship with Peeta.

Nevertheless I hadn't gone by the bakery and had been avoiding it along with any other place Peeta could be found or associated with. Rye has not said much, his sexual and annoying side comments seemed to have run dry. Marcus has not called and either has Eric. It was beginning to scare me that I might have lost them when Peeta called things off and I didn't want to lose them, I didn't want to lose Peeta. Haymitch had called once which consisted of a lot of grunts and incomprehensible words. I had skipped out on our weekly dinner saying I was too busy. I have been avoiding Annie's yoga classes and texts. I had also been ignoring Finn's calls which I could only assume were made by Annie, Finn knew better than to call. Marvel has stayed out of my ordeals along witch Johanna and Gloss which I have become eternally thankful for yet they still tiptoe around me.

Right now I was seated behind the bar, well actually on top of the bar more like it. My butt on the corner counter and legs stretched out in front on me bent over the hand sink. It was Wednesday and I decided about a little more than an hour ago to close the bar for the night. It was a weekday so it wouldn't have been too crowded and it wouldn't be another week or two till I actually began to make some increasing amount of money; plus really I just didn't want to be around people at the moment. So after such a catastrophic decision, I had sent out a message to Rye and Marvel telling them not to come in and they respectfully didn't question it.

So here I was at the bar. Me, myself, thee velvet box, and a brand new bottle of whiskey with my name on it. Oh what a Wednesday night!

Taking a swig of the bottle I listened in on the soft music that was playing on the radio in the kitchen. It was soft and classy, comfortable and sadistic, sad and happy and somehow fit in with my mood just perfectly. As I hummed along with its soft melody I heard the door creak open and bang shut. "We're closed," I call out, "Be opened tomorrow." Adding in a "probably" under my breath.

"But its Wednesday, Everdeen," I heard a voice respond, "I told you I'd probably stop by, didn't think I'd skip out on a drink, did you?"

Shaking my head, Cato took a seat along the bar close near my hip. "So about that drink?"

I let out a breath taking a glass from off the counter and pouring some whisky into it before passing it too him. "Cheers." Clicking our glasses together we took a sip of our drinks. I must say it was nice. Cato wasn't being his usual ass self and me, I wasn't alone. Taking another swig from my bottle as I hummed along with the music I felt Cato's glass tap against my hip.

"Hmm?"

"So why are you drinking alone, Everdeen?" He asked raising his eyebrows at me. I shake my head at him swallowing a little more alcohol.

"Oh it's a great story, really fantastic," I say feeling the alcohol talk, "Peeta was going to propose. I found out. Kept it to myself. Became a nervous wreck. Then thought it would be smart to tell him. Did. And guess what? He dumped me." I let out a laugh.

"Well that explains the ring box," Cato states. I

nod my head picking up the box and opening it to just have one glance at the ring, god it was perfect. "Sucks, too."

"Only for him," Cato says, "He's missing out."

I let out a laugh shutting the box and slipping it into my pocket. "Oh you have it bad." Cato joins in with my laughter, "Had to try at least."

"Horny bastard." I muttered taking another swig from my bottle.

"True though, you know? I'm not lying, it's his lost."

…

"What," I shout in frustration as I place the tray of dirty glasses into the bar's commercial dishwasher, "Just let it out already Rye, what?"

He lets out a grunt turning to face me. "You really want to hear it Katniss?"

"Yes," I say, "I want to know what I have done to deserved these dirty looks and silent remarks for the last week."

"You've been a real bitch," he says pointing his finger at me.

"I've been a real bitch," I say whipping the hand cloth off my shoulder down onto the table, "I haven't done shit."

"You haven't done shit," he says raising his tone, "You completely ruined him. Here I thought everything was going great and then boom! You do whatever and he's a mess. You really broke him this time. And to make it even better you're hanging around town with Cato."

"No," I shout stepping forward pushing against his chest, "You're brother walked out on me. I was being honest and he basically shitted in my face. And Cato, he's the only one who hasn't either been pissed off or too delicate with me."

"Katniss-" But I cut him off, "No, out! I really don't want you around right now Rye; I don't want shit from you that I already got from myself. So just get out. Out now!"

And so obediently bowing his head Rye made his way out the door and again it was just me.

…

Sitting at one of the corner tables at the Capitol I slid the pepper shaker between my hands waiting on the spinach, tomato, and provolone calzone I had ordered. Even this place reminded me of Peeta. God, I couldn't get him out of my head and truthfully didn't want to. I loved Peeta, but I guess he didn't love me the same to forgive me for not telling him sooner. Life sucked. Sliding the shaker back and forth, faster and faster the chair across from me was pulled out from under the table.

Thus looking up, Cato sat done placing my calzone down in front of me and a panzerotti in front of himself. Then watching him oh so causally, he picked up the panzerotti and took a bit while in the meantime I couldn't help, but think how oddly fantastic this situation was. As he swallowed he asked pointing to the, my calzone, "Wrong order, did I pick someone else's up? I really hate when that happens."

"No," I reply, "It's exactly what I ordered."

"Loss of appetite? I know I can have that kind of effect on women? Don't feel ashamed," he says, "It's okay, you can admit it, no one will judge."

Leaning my head back I finally let out the laughter that had been building in me the minute he sat down. "Oh, you are persistent aren't you?"

He gave me a smile, flashing his sparkly whites. "I try."

Seeing there was no use in fighting him I gave in, leaning over and taking a bit of my calzone. "So," I say licking a bit of grease from my thumb, "What is this?"

"This," he repeats waving his hand between himself and I.

"Mh hmm, this." I agree.

"Well this is me surprising you during your lunch," he says shrugging his shoulder, "That's just the face though; technically this is date number two."

I lean into the table on my elbows intrigued to where this was going, "And when was date number one?"

"Last Wednesday, we drank together, ate nachos, and you hummed along to that soft sadistically, gloomy opera type of music. And don't tell me that wasn't a date. There was the two of us- only us, music- entertainment, and nachos with some pretty bitter whiskey- food and drink."

I laugh not bothering to reply. I had to admit, hating myself for it too, that it was nice seeing Cato around these past few days as he helped my thoughts of Peeta disappear for a few minutes, but they always resurfaced. So as I take another bit of my food, Cato continues. "So this a little more than a week later, but not too much later that we've past the two week mark. Plus this is a casual so it doesn't look like I'm pushing it. And it's a surprise so I get brownie points for that."

Just shaking my head I couldn't contain my laughter. "As much as that does sounds… nice. I'm usually friends with one before I date them… Plus I just got out of a five year relationship."

He smiled waggling his eyebrows up and down at me, "Oh so you are considering dating me Everdeen?"

I send a glare his way only causing him to lean back in seat with a growing smirk forcing across his face.

"Okay Everdeen, I won't push, I know Lover Boy screwed you over. But I must say I thought we were friends. I mean since you showed up here we had our moment. That time I kissed you and your friends beat me up. And then you saved my ass form getting kicked in jail the following year. That's when we started playing nice, I mean I even allowed you a free shot at my face after that… and you hit a little south. I thought we were friends though. I come to your bar, you serve me drinks, I pay and always tip, and every now and then I'll cause a ruckus to keep things interesting."

"Mh hmm," I sighed, "Okay I suppose that's friends in your book, but in mine it's more like close acquaintances maybe."

"Okay," he says nodding his head, "Acquaintances. I can deal with that. And since I'm not a friend we won't date, but since I'm an acquaintance we can do benefits still."

"Ass," I muttered before taking another bit of my calzone.

He smiled. "I know it's a perfect ten, but yours I'd say would be a high eleven."