Chapter Four:
It was easily the worst dinner party I'd ever been to.
No one answered the door with a smile as they offered to take a coat and graciously accept a hostess gift. No. The guests just barged in without even knocking, throwing their stuff about, and making themselves quite at home. Hazel only acknowledged their presence by hollering, 'hello' from the kitchen.
There were no passed hors d'ouevres… no hors d'ouevres of any kind! The cereal mix with nuts in a cheap bowl on the table was considered a 'snack'. Even the cadence of the word was awful. While, hors' d'ouevres slips elegantly off the tongue… the word 'Snack' bares your teeth in the most hideous way. Everyone just dunked their dirty hands into the communal bowl, tipping their palms back as they dumped the mix down their gullets, making a mess everywhere.
The dinner planned was only one course, and there wasn't even a floral centerpiece for the table! The dress code was apparently two steps down from labor day-wear, and when I asked Hazelle where I could find her coasters… she literally asked me what a coaster was. A coaster!
I was on edge.
The day had been long and taught with tension, and my muscles were so keyed up my whole body burned and ached. I had managed to completely avoid Gale so far, but there was no way I could avoid him at dinner.
Peeta's parents had arrived first, dumping a loaf of bread in my hands as his mother gave Hazelle a cool greeting, and sat herself by the fire in the sitting room. Peeta's father could have been considered a handsome man if it weren't for his crooked teeth, but his congenial nature immediately recommended him. He actually seemed genuinely pleased to meet me. Prim and Iris arrived shortly after, with subdued yet kind greetings. The younger Everdeen sister seemed to immediately fix shrewd and pensive eyes upon me, yet whenever I glanced in her direction, a bright smile would lite up her face. I truly didn't know what to make of that one.
Finally, Peeta and Katniss arrived with little fanfare… unlike any reception they would have received in the Capitol. Haymitch sauntered over to both clasping their shoulders in greeting. The smirk on his face was easy and warm, and I knew in an instant he loved them both dearly.
It was just as Hazelle was putting the finishing touches on the meal, that I heard the back door open, its creak already familiar to me. The low voice of Gale carried into the front room, and I tensed at once. I hated the way my heart sped at the sound of his voice. The sudden and all consuming desire to vomit the contents of my stomach hit me like train. I was desperate to feign illness and excuse myself, but that would have been incredibly rude. They where, after all, gathered together to meet me, of all people.
A low, throaty yell from the dining room signaled us to enter. Unlike the dinner the night before in the kitchen, the dining room at least had candles upon the table, and glass wine goblets. They were of a chunky glass, likely from a cheap mold, but they would serve their purpose.
I once again suffered a mild heart attack when I was set directly across the table from Gale. Typical. I refused to stare in his general direction, and instead turned to Peeta Mellark on my left. We had chatted briefly earlier in the evening about his family's bakery, and he seemed the only one willing to speak about the Capitol. Prim was sat on my other side, and she gathered her hands daintily in her lap as she engaged Posy in quiet questions about school.
Katniss and Peeta held hands discreetly under the table, and the loving smile she gave him had me itching to look across the table to see Gale's reaction. Luckily, I doused this urge by taking two large gulps of the acrid liquid they passed off as wine.
Rory, finally making an appearance for the day, shuffled over to sit next to Gale, and I froze, hoping the elder Hawthorne brother had not disclosed last night's incident.
I could never live down the teasing from that little git, and for that reason alone I assumed Gale would keep what he saw to himself. Rory's antagonizing would surely befall him too. Besides, if Rory had been privy to the situation, he would be acting like the cat who got the crème fraiche right now… not some sullen, lout brooding over a dinner with company. That slouch! Would it kill him to sit up straight!?
Suddenly to my right, a plate was passed in front of my face. Prim smiled warmly as she handed the plate to me.
"Peeta makes the best minced pies, you must try one!" I mirrored her smile, looking down at the plate of little tarts,
"Mmm, they look lovely, thank you…" I went to take one, when Rory, his voice full of rascality, blurted loud enough for the table to hear,
"You know those have meat in them." My hand stopped in mid air as I looked up at him. His eyes were alight with mischief, and I wasn't sure if I should believe him.
"Oh, yes dear, they have ground pork." Hazelle confirmed. Suddenly, once again, all eyes at the table were upon me. I wasn't quite sure what to do. Pass the plate to Peeta… and snub his… meat tarts?! Take one, and hope that no one noticed I didn't eat it?
"Are you allergic to pork?" Prim questioned, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Uh…" I stammered, unsure of what to say as color bloomed hot on my cheeks.
"Naw… she just doesn't eat meat… you know, a Capitol life style choice." Rory nearly sneered. I refused to look at him, but could feel his eyes boring a hole in my head. I swear down the table I heard someone gasp.
"You don't eat meat?" Katniss asked incredulously.
And that was when it happened. For the first time that evening. Her eyes drifted across the table to her old friend, as they shared a meaningful look of allied disgust. It was as if they were having a conversation all their own. Her raised brow asking him, 'Is she for real?!' and his annoyed intake of breath replying, 'Can you believe it!'. It was familiar, and intimate, and if I felt awkward to witness such a thing, I could only imaging how Peeta felt in that moment.
I don't know how I expected him to react to all of this, but Peeta's response was nearly that of well born and well practiced Capitolite,
"Not to worry, Arie, I brought some apple turnovers for dessert, you can try those," and then turning to Katniss, placing his hand over hers on the table in plain site, "It's not like it's uncommon there, remember, Portia, is a vegetarian too."
And just like that, Peeta popped the bubble of the old companions' allied moment, simply by reminding Gale that he, too, had shared moments with Katniss. Powerful moments. Desperate moments. Moments in a far off land, away from all family, and devoid of all friends. Moments thick with fear and death, punctuated by the need not only to survive, but to survive together.
"Oh, that's right," Katniss murmured, as if it all suddenly made sense and was acceptable. She turned her hand palm up and entwined their fingers. With his free hand, Peeta took the plate from me, and artfully shifted the conversation to something else. As the dinner was underway, it did not escape my notice a few minuets later, when Prim passed the plate of roast chicken directly to Peeta, and handed me the basket of bread instead. She gave me a small smile which was easily returned. I looked down at the basket, my eyes scanning for the smallest piece. Bread always made me look so bloated. I tried to mentally calculate how many calories I had had that day as they passed the potatoes my way, but my mind went blank as I heard Hazelle say,
"Gale, why don't you give Arie a tour of the town tomorrow?" Her tone suggested it was not a request. My breath caught in my throat as dread washed over me.
"I have a lot of work to do." He wouldn't even look up.
"Surely you can spare a couple of hours." Hazel countered, her eyebrows going up, and her voice dropping.
"It's fine," I protested, desperate not to be alone with the brooding man, "I can just go explore myself…"
"NO!" Both Hazel and Haymitch blurted at the same time. I was caught off guard, and looked back at them with wide eyes, pondering what could have caused such a reaction. I began to wonder if perhaps Twelve was far less safe for me than I'd originally thought.
"Until… well, until people get to know you, it's best that you don't go about… unaccompanied," Hazelle glanced at Haymitch, and it was plain on their face. No. I wasn't safe here at all.
"I have to run a shipment of bread down to the bakery tomorrow," Peeta chimed in, turning to me, "I'd be happy to show you around…."
I heard a heavy hand drop down on the table causing the dishes to rattle.
"No." Gale said sharply. For the first time all evening I looked at him fully. His dark eyes were fixed upon Peeta, his expression inscrutable, "It's fine, I'll do it." His tone feigned nonchalance but it came out too harsh for believability. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I realized at once, this wasn't about me. This wasn't about me at all. Peeta held his gaze evenly, but after a moment finally made a slow nod. My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. How would I ever survive such a trip with that man!?
Conversation was quiet and stilted after; the air seemed to hang low, humid with tension. Iris and Prim where the first to make their excuses to leave, followed shortly after by Peeta and Katniss. As Peeta stood up from the table he clasped my hand in both of his and told me how nice it was to meet me. His genuine air, and the gesture tipped my lips into bright smile. It bubbled forth, and not for the first time that evening, I thought it a shame he was married.
He threw a quick glance in Gale's direction, and then he added to me,
"If you'd ever like to come over and bake with me, I'd love to pick your brain about some Capitol recipes I've been trying to deconstruct." Again, I realized the invitation had really nothing to do with me, but I wouldn't let that stop me from a chance to bake.
"That would be delightful, Peeta. So nice to have met you both." Katniss gave me a tight smile, which I was beginning to realize, was in fact her full smile. Prim hugged me, to my surprise, but Iris hung back, merely nodding in my direction.
As everyone began shuffling towards the front hall, I realized only Gale and I remained in our seats. Startled, I jumped up at once and began busying my self with picking up the dinner plates. It did not escape my notice that every dish was left nearly clean. It shouldn't surprise me that they wouldn't waste food here. Never the less it made stacking the plates up a breeze. My heart stuttered to a stop as I rounded the table to retrieve the plate in front of Gale. He still sat there, shoulders tense as noises wafted in from the commotion in the front hall. Gently, I reached out to take his plate, holding my breath. Suddenly, his long fingers reached out and wrapped around my wrist. Startled, I nearly dropped the stack in my hand.
"I've got it." He hissed without looking at me. His light grip still burned my wrist as he stood to his full height, towering over me, quite close. The smell of smoke and cedar tickled my nose, and I blushed crimson as I realized I was smelling him. I could tell he was staring down at me, but I was too much of a coward to meet his gaze. As his fingers fell away, I cursed my self for the loud shuddering breath I inhaled. Sidestepping him to flee, he reached out again, his hand connecting with the dip in my side just quickly enough to gain my attention and stop my heart. Throwing my wide eyes up, Gale's gaze had lost all of its hardness,
"Give those to me," he motioned towards the plates. I opened my mouth to say that I was happy to help, but he hurried on, "Rory's grounded… he has to do the dishes tonight."
"Oh," I breathed as he pulled the stack from my hands, his fingers gently brushing my own. I swallowed hard as he turned to clear the rest of the line. Making my way towards the kitchen, I heard behind me,
"We'll leave for town at nine." Spinning about to face him, he pinned me once again with a gaze I couldn't read. Stony and expressionless but brimming with… something. Repressed hate, perhaps? All I could do was nod, before I walked straight through the kitchen, into the family room, out onto the screened porch and out the screen door. I just needed air. Air, and the solace of a dark night.
Clinging close to the shadows of the house, I marveled at how dark it was here, and how quiet. The cul-de-sac was only lit by three lonely lamps, even the glow from the town down the hill was subdued. Nothing like the Capitol. It was always bright and burning. The city at night glittered magnificently, its shine blocking out the stars. Rounding to the side of the house, I plopped down, obscured by a large bush and looked up.
The sky was a mosaic of .05 carat diamonds. They seemed to burn brighter tonight, uneclipsed by the waning moon's glow.
So I guess this meant that we were on speaking terms again. Although, it wasn't as if we weren't before, it just felt that way. It was bizarre that I had only met him yesterday. It was as if time had slowed down to accommodate all the emotional upheaval of moving across the country and entering a new family.
Suddenly voices wafted over from the sidewalk,
"Whoever would of thought Haymitch would have such a pretty daughter!" Peeta's mother exclaimed. I peered around the bush to see Mr. and Mrs. Mellark making their way home, and it took me a moment to register her words. What was that, now!? "I mean, she's positively gorgeous," the words were a compliment, but her tone was not. There was just a general icy unkindness about that woman. "She must get it all from her mother," she prattled on. That sounded about right. They must have the lowest of low standards in twelve if I was considered pretty here.
"I dunno, she has Haymitch's eyes." I heard Peeta's dad pipe up. Yes… dirt eyes from my district dad.
"We should introduce her to Rye, she's far more eligible than Madge now! She's so fair, think of how beautiful their babies would be!" It was odd to hear a comment on my coloring. Such things hardly matter in the capitol. What designer you're wearing, and which neighborhood you live in are paramount, but we could care less about a shade of skin. I wonder what they would make of Necca Bick who tinted hers magenta for a year, when we were fifteen?
I then realized the second part of her sentence… babies!? What a delusional old bitty! Like anyone here would marry me… or rather, that I would tie myself to a district man. If Gale was anything to go by, I was in for long years of stilted and resentment-laced encounters with the males of Twelve.
Though… that wasn't necessarily true. Peeta had been nothing but nice to me. I just assumed it was more of a character trait of his though. Of the Mellark men I'd met, they were unfailingly kind. Perhaps the others were as well? I tried to remember if I'd seen the brother on the footage for their year, but my mind came up blank. I wondered idly if he looked like Peeta, or if he shared their love of baking? The prospect warmed me with a small flicker of hope.
However, it was doused instantly as I heard the back door slam shut, and the crunching sound of booted foot falls on the pebbled path to the garage. I cringed at the very thought of him. Dread, akin only to the kind I felt when I boarded the train for this god forsaken place, bubbled up inside me. How would I ever survive the morning?
To be cont.
A/N: Thank you kindly for reading! As always, I would love to know your thoughts and feedback, it means more than you know. Happy New Year!