"Mr. Mellark. Twain," Principal Gunn held open the door to his office, nodding to me and my father respectively. I wanted nothing to do with this meeting, even if it was getting me out of math class for the day. I stood from my wheelchair, crossing the hall, my hand shooting out to the door frame as soon it was in reach. I had been trying to become less dependent on it over the past week. I wanted to be rid of it entirely, but I had a ways to go before that would be possible. The principal stood back as my father and I entered the room, closing the door as we sat down in front of his desk.
"I appreciate this, Nate," Dad said as the principal stepped around his desk to sit down.
"Not a problem," he waved his hand dismissively. "I think this is long overdue. And given the plan we're attempting to put into action here it's certainly unavoidable."
Dad reached over and squeezed my knee. I had been to exactly one of these meetings, and that was before I'd even started school. Principal Gunn was a tall, intimidating man who seemed to believe smiling would result in his untimely death. At that meeting we had discussed the courses I'd be taking and the progression to full school days. It was going slower than we'd discussed then. My recovery was going slower than we'd expected. It was hard to push that out of my head.
"You've been doing well," Mr. Gunn began, flipping open the folder on his desk and passing a few pieces of paper from it to my father. "I know there's less to draw on for your average with no tests as of yet, but you've managed to improve a bit from last year's GPA." I leaned toward my father to look at the pages in his hand; listings of my grades. They'd gotten better because Katniss all but did the assignments for me. I had never been a very good student on my own. Dad nudged me me with his elbow, smiling when I looked up at him before handing the papers to me.
"Now, what's unfortunate is that you've missed a great deal," Mr. Gunn pulled out a packet of papers, laying them on the edge of his desk in front of me. "I understand you've been working with a classmate, but this may be a bit beyond what she can help you with. I've spoken with a few of your teachers who are more than willing to help in that area." He tapped the pages on the edge of his desk. "Take that home, they list the lessons covered. You should be able to put together what you're missing. The exams will cover the entire year. You do have quite a bit of work to do to fill in the gaps."
"Okay," I said, setting down the pages in my hand and picking up the packet on the edge of the desk. It contained a syllabus for each of my classes that looked intimidating enough on their own, let alone together.
"So you understand the expectations there?" Mr. Gunn asked. I nodded, handing the packet to my father. He raised his eyebrows.
"I swear this has gotten worse," he said, shaking his head as he flipped through the pages.
"The syllabus hasn't changed in 45 years, Twain," Mr. Gunn chuckled. "I promise you it was the same for us."
"Must have just forgotten more than I thought I did," Dad smirked, passing the packet back to me.
"Now, I understand this isn't the only concern either of you have," Gunn continued, leaning back in his seat. "We're aware of the trouble that has been going on with your classmates, Mr. Mellark."
"Then why haven't you done anything?" my father snapped, straightening in his chair. Principal Gunn cocked an eyebrow, shifting his attention from me to my father. Dad cleared his throat, muttering an apology and leaning back again.
"Unfortunately, without actually catching the aggressors in the act, we're unable to take any official disciplinary action," Mr. Gunn folded his hands in his lap. "Of course, that doesn't mean we can't turn a blind eye to the occasional retaliation as well." I looked up at him, wondering if that meant what I thought it did; that they'd purposefully ignored Katniss' stunt punching Merx. A faint smirk twitched across Mr. Gunn's face. "Just don't push it."
"If you understand how bad it's been for him, then why haven't you been looking out for him?," Dad said, glancing toward me for a moment.
"Believe me, I am," Mr. Gunn nodded. "As is much of the faculty. They know who they're watching, and they have a very good idea of what to look for. I don't mean to diminish what you're going through by any means, but this is far from the first time we have had an issue like this, and it has yet to reach the level of the worst we've seen."
"I'd still feel better if something were being done to stop it," Dad said, shaking his head.
"You understand my hands are tied to an extent, Twain," Mr. Gunn spread his hands in front of him. "I do the best I can here. You know I'll step in personally should things get out of hand."
"They've already gotten out of hand," Dad said, gesturing toward me. "He's come home upset more times than he hasn't. Injured, at one point. Not to mention stealing his wheelchair not too long ago. Why the hell didn't you step in then?"
"Dad, p-please stop," I said quietly, glancing over at him before dropping my eyes to the floor.
"No, it's inexcusable that this has been tolerated," he snapped. "I know exactly who those boys are, and they're sure as hell old enough to know better. You're supposed to be teaching these kids to be responsible, and this is the behavior coming out of the young men who are supposed to be leaders in this District? It's disgusting, Nathan."
"None of this is being tolerated," Mr. Gunn leaned forward against the edge of his desk, his voice calm and even. "And I'm sorry you disagree with the way things are handled here, but you know as well as I do policy is dictated to us, not something we're able to take control of ourselves. I mean it when I say this isn't the first time I've handled a situation like this. I know what I'm doing."
"You've never handled something like this," Dad pointed toward me, leaning forward. I watched him, sagging a bit in my seat. I was torn between gratitude for the way he stood up for me and complete shame over how different I really was. I hated being singled out; hated the attention it drew. That was what created the situation to begin with.
"Dad," I said quietly. He looked over at me, his expression softening at the look on my face. He shook his head, pushing his hand back through his thinning hair.
"I'm sorry, Peet," he sat back, letting out a sigh.
"It's fine," I mumbled, dropping my gaze.
"I'll speak with his teachers again," Mr. Gunn said after a moment of silence. "Would that help the situation?"
"I'd feel a bit better," Dad conceded. Mr. Gunn nodded.
"If you need help with any of this, or want to set up some tutoring through the school, don't hesitate to come see me," Mr. Gunn shuffled the papers spread across his desk back into the folder before flipping it closed. He stood, adjusting his coat and gesturing toward the door, effectively dismissing us both. "I'll see you in a month, Twain."
"Thank you," Dad stood, reaching out to shake the principal's hand before leading me out of the office. I lowered myself into my wheelchair, tucking the paper's I'd been given next to my legs.
"You could have brought that in with you," the school administrator said, leaning forward against her desk with a tight-lipped smile. She hadn't been there when we went in.
"Trying t-to, um—get away from it," I said, turning myself toward the door.
"Well," she said, straightening up and glancing at my father. "If you ever need to leave it here, feel free."
"Thanks," I said.
"Thank you," my father echoed, opening the door to the office for me. She winked at him before turning back to her work.
"We'll have to figure out what you've totally missed," Katniss said, frowning at the syllabus in her hand. We sat side by side on the floor of my room, our backs against the edge of my bed. "When did you leave school? I forget."
"Um—October," I said, shifting closer to her to look at the page. "I think. I d-don't really remember th-that though."
"That sounds about right," she said absently, flipping through to another page. "We should probably just start at the beginning of the year, huh..."
"Yeah," I frowned, glancing at the pile of textbooks between us. How on earth would I manage to cram an entire year into a few months when I could barely keep up with the standard pace?
"I'm also pretty sure I can guess what's going to be on the actual tests," Katniss chewed her lip, reaching for the pen I was rolling between my fingers and crossing out a few lines on one of the papers. I looked up at her questioningly. She shrugged. "He didn't even cover that in class. We can skip it."
"This is—um, a lot," I frowned, watching her flip to the next page.
"You'll be fine," she smirked at me. "It's not as much as it looks like, I promise." I raised a skeptical eyebrow at her and she laughed quietly. "Look, I'll look through these and I'll underline the parts you really need to know. I think I might still have some of my assignments from this, too. That'll give you a better idea of what to pay attention to than this crap will."
"O-okay," I said, leaning back against the bed and watching her fiddle with her braid while she looked over the paperwork. There was no way I was going to be able to focus on studying with her. There wasn't a day in the previous couple of weeks we hadn't found ourselves in my bed, at least for a little while. I'd managed to make her come a second time, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I loved the way she moved under me, and the way her hands felt pulling at me. The look on her face when I pressed against her was so impossibly sexy. Everything about it all was so surreal. I'd never truly imagined getting to have her in my life at all, let alone like that. She and I had become so close, and so intimate, it felt strange to still seem so normal on the outside.
Buddy crawled out from under my bed, stretching and yawning before picking his way across the floor between us. He sniffed at the papers on the floor, pawing at them for a moment before lowering himself directly onto the one that Katniss was reading.
"Your cat sucks," she said, laughing when her half-hearted attempts to dislodge him failed. She gave up after a moment, reaching for my English textbook and shifting to sit closer to me. "We'll start with the easy stuff. It's really just reading, and last year Kruegel just combined all of her tests for the exam, so when it gets closer to the actual finals we can use those to study."
"Okay," I straightened up as Katniss set the book in my lap, leaning against my shoulder and reading over my shoulder.
Katniss had always been a very good student. She always had the correct answer when called on by a teacher, and some of the cattier merchant girls who sat around her in class would occasionally complain when she received better grades than they did. The general consensus seemed to be that she either cheated or slept with the teacher, which was what people said whenever a seam girl did exceptionally well. I knew better then, and I certainly knew better after she began tutoring me. She seemed to remember everything in the books, as well as everything that was said in class, and she could rattle off facts without even needing to stop to think about them. I couldn't help but wonder how she managed that, especially before when she was working so hard to feed her family. She had no time to study and got A's. Even at my best, while taking the time to study, I was a solid C student. I couldn't help but be embarrassed by it all.
"Hey," Katniss said, tearing my attention away from the book. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, um," I rubbed my hand over my eyes. The strain of focusing was starting to make them ache. "Getting a little t-tired, I guess."
"I think we did enough for one day," she said, lifting the book out of my lap and closing it before tossing it aside. "More than enough, really." She leaned forward and kissed me.
"There's, um, one m-more thing I'd l-like to do," I said, smiling against her kisses. She chuckled as I hooked my arm around her knees and pulled her into my lap, sliding my hand over her thigh as I kissed her. I wanted to touch her; slip my hand between her thighs and make her come with my fingers the way she'd made me come with her hand. I didn't know how to ask. Even if the thought of screwing it up or scaring her off with it wasn't enough to terrify me, I had no idea what to even say. I still had a hard time believing this was real.
Katniss shifted to straddle my lap, combing her fingers through my hair as she opened her mouth against mine. I slipped my hands under the back of her shirt, loving the feel of her warm, soft skin under my palms. She lowered her weight onto me and I moved my hands to her hips, pulling her closer. Even through our clothes I could feel her heat and I thought again of how it would feel against my fingers. The very thought made my hips roll up against hers. She broke away from my mouth, gasping softly before smiling, her eyes half closed. Katniss slid her hand over my neck to cup my jaw in her hand before leaning in to kiss me again. I caught her lower lip between my teeth lightly, drawing a faint whimper from her. I tightened my arms around her waist, smiling to myself as she exhaled against my lips.
"Peeta," she said softly, her hand drifting down my chest. I hummed in response, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth before nuzzling against her neck. "You know how you want to talk about new things before we do them?"
"Yeah," I paused, looking over her shoulder. Where was she going with this? What did she want? Her hand slipped between us, and she pressed the heel of her palm against the front of my pants. My breath caught in my throat.
"I want to do something new," she said, laying her cheek against my hair. I pressed my hands against her skin to hide their shaking. My heart hammered in my chest.
"Wh-what do you, um—want to d-do?" I said, only barely able to find my voice.
"Can I, um," she hesitated, taking a breath. "Can I see it?" My mind blanked for a moment. She couldn't actually mean what I thought she meant.
"Y-you—want t-to see my...?" I asked. Katniss nodded, straightening up a little, squeezing my hard on gently through my pants. She was blushing deeply, her lower lip snagged between her teeth, and the look on her face painfully hesitant. I sucked in a breath. "Okay."
She smiled and kissed me, shimmying her hips back before looking down between us. I dropped my head back against the edge of the bed, staring up at the ceiling as I felt her lift the hem of my shirt to unbutton my pants. I swore quietly as she tugged down the zipper, shifting my hips as she pulled them down a little.
I watched her face as she pulled the waistband of my boxers down. Her eyes widened for a moment; her eyebrows twitching up toward her hairline. Her tongue darted out over her lips, and I glanced down as she curled her fingers around my cock, running her thumb up the underside of it so lightly it made me shiver.
"Wow," she said quietly.
"Wow?" I asked, and she looked up at me as if she'd somehow forgotten I was sitting here, her blush deepening.
"Um—I'm, I'm sorry," she said, snorting and dropping her head against my shoulder as she started to giggle.
"D-don't laugh," I said, though I couldn't help but join her. I wrapped my arms around her, still painfully aware of the gentle grip she had on me.
"No! No," she said, turning her face against my neck and laughing even harder. "I'm not—it's nice."
"Um, th-thanks," I chuckled. "I think." Katniss leaned against me, vibrating with laughter for a moment before she straightened up, red-faced and smiling, and leaned in to kiss me. As her tongue snaked against mine she began moving her hand over me, so slowly and so gently it was excruciating. I reached between us, covering her hand with mine and tightening her grip, guiding her for a few pumps and hoping she would get the idea. She muttered an embarrassed thank you against my lips that I couldn't help but chuckle at. What on earth was she thanking me for?
"Is that good?" she asked, resting her forehead against mine. I nodded, barely even able to breathe, let alone find it in me to answer properly. I glanced down between us; the sight of her hand wrapped around me just pushed me even closer and I closed my eyes, moaning softly and looping my arm around her shoulders; pulling her close enough to bury my face against her neck.
"A l-little—faster," I managed, another moan escaping me as she complied.
"Like this?" she asked quietly. I nodded, balling my hands into fists and panting against her skin, breathing in the familiar scent of the bakery that clung to her and the hint of woodsmoke that lurked beneath it. My hips bucked up against her hand, my balls tightening, and my moaning muffled against her shoulder as I came. Katniss slowed her hand, turning to kiss my hair as I caught my breath. I straightened up, leaning back against the bed. She flashed me a smile before looking down between us. "Um..."
"Oh—um—I'm s-sorry," I looked down at her hand.
"It's fine," she said as I yanked my shirt off over my head, using it to wipe her hand clean before tossing it aside.
"Thank you," I said, shifting to tug the waistband of my boxers back up.
"Don't thank me," she laughed quietly. I smiled at her for a moment before kissing her.
"Um, Kat?" I said, knowing if I didn't take advantage of this feeling and ask her now I never would. "C-can, um. Can I—t-touch you?"
"You mean-" she cut herself off, pulling back to look at me. I nodded. She pressed her lips together and nodded.
"Okay," she said softly. I hadn't even thought past her saying yes. I pulled her back to me and kissed her, tracing the waistband of her pants around to the front. My hands trembled so much it took me a moment to get them unbuttoned. Her breathing hitched as I traced the edge of her panties with my fingertip, hesitating. I had no real idea what I was doing, though Rye had told me more than I ever really wanted to know when he and Delly first took this step. I slipped my hand into them, pushing my fingers through her warm, soft curls.
Katniss gasped as my fingers found her flesh, sucking the air from my lungs before she pulled away from my mouth. I smoothed my fingertips over her, surprised at just how wet she was; how hot and soft she felt. I listened to her reaction as I touched her, devoting more attention when I hit a spot that dragged a whimper out of her. She tensed when I pressed my middle finger against her opening and I quickly pulled it back, suddenly terrified I'd pushed too far. Katniss draped her arms around my neck, her kisses soft and reassuring as she rocked her hips on my hand, urging me on. I curled my fingers forward and she gasped, her eyes going wide for a moment.
"Do that again," she breathed. I repeated the motion, watching her close her eyes, her brow furrowing. She shifted her hips as I moved my fingers, her tongue clamped between her teeth. "No—I mean—there." She moved against my hand. How the hell was I supposed to figure out what she wanted if she wouldn't hold still?
"Wh-where?" I asked. Katniss let out a sigh and put her hand down the front of her pants to cover my own, pressing her fingers against mine to guide them. I felt a tiny little knot of flesh beneath my fingertips and focused on it.
"Oh my god," Katniss gasped, a shudder rippling over her. Her body lurched against mine, her arms tightening around my neck. I could feel her legs shaking on either side of my hips.
"Is th-that good?" I asked quietly. She nodded, squeaking out a soft confirmation.
"A lit-little harder," she breathed, moaning as I pressed my fingers against her, following her instructions. She shuddered, her body tensing against me as her hips rocked against my hand. Katniss cried out, pressing her open mouth against my neck, her voice vibrating against my skin, the sound trailing off into gentle whimpers as her movement slowed and her body relaxed. "Oh my god."
"Good?" I asked, smiling to myself as I pulled my hand away from her. She nodded, nuzzling against my neck.
"I'm just gonna stay right here, okay?" she wound her arms around me and sighed, her voice muffled by my skin. I smiled, grabbing my shirt off the floor to wipe my hand clean before wrapping my arms around her. I slouched against the bed, turning my face toward her hair and smiling to myself.
Once Katniss left I forced down a small dinner before going to bed. Most of her time at the bakery after school for the next few days went the same way. After she spent a little time in the bakery, she and I would sit in my room and go over some of the lessons I had missed. When she sensed me getting frustrated or tired she cut things short, and we'd spend the rest of the afternoon in each other's arms. More than once, I drifted off before she even left, the effort of focusing for so long having left me completely drained.
I opened my eyes to find the room dim. My head hurt worse than usual, and I had no clue whether I had slept through the day or the night. Every thought felt as though it was covered in a fog, and my limbs felt heavy and slow, as if they were being weighted down by something. I was suddenly overcome with nausea and dizziness, and found myself sitting on the floor with no clue as to how I came to be there. The headache had now become centered behind my eye, and it seemed I would need an extra dose of my pain medication.
I walked out into the living room, dropping down into the chair by the window. The sun had set, leaving the square bathed in a fading grey light. Relieved to know what time of day it was, I watched the few people still milling around outside as shops closed down for the night, trying to get my racing thoughts under control. I pushed the window open a crack, slouching down into the chair and sucking in a slow, deep breath. The cool air felt good.
Something was going on with me. I felt like I was losing snippets of time. My headaches kept getting worse. The morphling wasn't helping them much anymore, and it wasn't even coming close to touching the pain in my wrist. My fingers would tingle painfully when they weren't outright numb, and it was getting harder to hide it. I looked down at my fingers, clenching my hand into a weak, trembling fist as my father climbed the stairs.
"Hey," he said, crossing the room and taking a seat in the chair across from me. "Thought you'd still be asleep."
"I um—j-just got up," I said, straightening up in my seat.
"Feeling any better?"
"N-not really," I looked down at my hands, pulling on my fingers to try to alleviate the pain.
"Katniss left a little while ago," he smirked. "She said you were out cold."
"Th-the studying is t-tiring," I said. It didn't help that Katniss went out of her way to ensure I was as relaxed as humanly possible before she went home every night.
"I bet it is," Dad said with a barely restrained chuckle. "Things going well with her?"
"Yeah," I nodded, smiling to myself. "B-better than I th-thought they could."
"Are you being respectful?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Dad," I groaned, rolling my eyes and looking away.
"Well are you?" he chuckled.
"Yes."
"Good," he smirked, shaking his head. "Not that I doubt you would be. I might have failed miserably with the man Rye presents to the world, but even he treats Delly well when it's just the two of them."
"Sh-she wouldn't p-put up with him otherwise," I said. Dad laughed and nodded.
"She'd make his life hell if he didn't treat her well," he mused. "He's a good boy. And so are you. You just make sure you behave yourself better than he does. Lord knows that boy can't keep it in his pants for more than twenty minutes."
"D-don't want me—ruining your chances with Mrs. Everd-deen?" I smirked.
"Shut up," Dad chuckled. "No, I don't, but that's not why you should behave yourself. It's not the entire reason you should behave yourself, at least."
"She'll g-get tired of me eventually, anyway," I said softly, biting down on my lip. Yesterday we'd nearly gotten caught. Katniss had laughed it off, though I could see that it bothered her, and what she'd tried to pass off as a joke about going out to the slag heap sounded more like an indictment of something we just couldn't do. It hurt, and though she'd apologized, I was still left feeling upset and hurt. Not just by what she said, but what it highlighted about me. About what I couldn't do that everyone else our age could. She seemed overly reserved this afternoon. That was my fault, I knew. I'd slowed her down, the way I slowed down everyone around me.
"What?" Dad frowned. I shook my head, looking away and chewing on my lip. I wished I hadn't said that out loud. "Peeta, talk to me."
"I'm not—I'm different," I said, shrugging. "From everyone. Sh-she'll get sick of it. Want someone n-normal." Someone who could keep up with how active she was. She still spent her mornings in the woods, hiked miles outside the District and brought down game before she even started her school day. I couldn't even get through three classes without feeling utterly exhausted. No matter how much she claimed none of that even entered her mind, it had to bother her.
"Fuck normal," Dad said. I looked up at him. His face was completely serious; his voice level and calm. "I hate to break this to you, Peet, but you weren't normal before. You were better than normal, and you still are. I wish this hadn't happened to you, and I sure as hell should have done something long before it came to this. That's my fault, Peeta. But you're still the young man I'm proud of. And you're still my favorite kid." He paused, smiling as I laughed. "Just don't tell those other two, okay?"
"Thanks," I chuckled. Silence fell between us, and I tugged at my fingers again. The tingling had gotten worse, radiating out from my wrist into every joint in my hand.
"What's going on?" he asked. I just shook my head and turned to look out the window again. "Hey."
"What?" I frowned, turning to look at him.
"I worry about you," Dad said, watching me for a moment before sighing. "You're practically a man and I still look at you and see that little boy toddling around the bakery."
"Dad, st-stop," I smirked, shaking my head and looking away.
"It's true," he chuckled. "You're my baby, and you're stuck with that."
"Dad," I groaned, rubbing my hand over my eyes.
"Sorry," he grinned, dropping his eyes as the expression faded. "I'm just worried. You don't talk to me about any of this. I have no real idea what's going on with you, Peet. I wish you would open up to me."
"Wh-what do you want me—to say?" I frowned. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. This conversation was taking an uncomfortable turn.
"If I knew I wouldn't have to ask, would I?" he said, a faint smirk on his face. "I see you struggling. I see you trying to hide it. I know some things are getting better, but I can tell some things are getting worse. Do you tell Lavender, at least?"
"I g-guess," I mumbled. I didn't, and I knew I didn't. There were things I actively hid; things I probably shouldn't have. If I pushed it away, maybe it would stop happening. My symptoms changed frequently. Why bother worrying everyone over something that would change or pass by in a few weeks?
"Peeta," he said, his gaze too steady. I could feel my resolve crumbling and clenched my teeth, willing him to at least look away from me. "Please."
"I ruined everything," I said quietly, looking down at the floor. It didn't escape me that it was the first stutter-free sentence I had managed in a long, long time. Dad shifted in his chair, leaning toward me. He looked like someone punched him in the stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, and I shook my head to stop him, chewing my lip and taking a shaky breath. "I s-see how t-tired you are. I know it's b-because of—me. There's t-too much work now and—there's more b-bills. And you d-do it alone. Because I—messed up."
"Peeta-"
"And I'm—afraid. To try," I bit my lip, trying to fight back tears. "School is j-just—it's too much. I can't k-keep up in class. I won't b-be able to—the exams." I shook my head, rubbing my fingers over the bridge of my nose. "I miss the b-bakery. I miss—drawing. Reading, too. I'm useless."
"You're not useless," Dad said softly. I shrugged, flicking tears out from under my eyes and looking down at my hands.
"At s-some point—Katniss will see it," I said. "And th-then she'll g-give up. F-find someone—better."
"Peeta," Dad said. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you can't let any of that stop you from living. You're going to get hurt. Everyone does. Be good to her. Be respectful. She already cares about you, more than I think you realize. Treat her well and things will work out."
"Dad—that-" I pressed my lips together. "That d-didn't work for you."
"You can't love if you don't open yourself up to being hurt. I did," he sighed. "I opened myself up to that with your mother, and I have plenty of pain to show for it. She left a lot of scars, Peet. But she also gave me the three greatest loves of my life. You. Your brothers. That makes it all worth it. More than worth it, Peeta.
"You've already had more than your share of pain, I know," he continued. "You can't just shut down. You won't ever have anything worth having if you don't open yourself up and risk it." I looked up at him, unconvinced. "You're going to make mistakes. We're supposed to. That's how life works. You learn and you do better the next time. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I won't let you repeat my mistakes, but I can't stop you from making your own."
"I d-don't want to make mistakes," I said, frowning down at my hands.
"No one does," Dad said. "Doesn't matter. You will. But you'll be okay." He shifted forward in his chair, watching me until I looked up at him. "I love you, you know."
"Yeah," I smirked. "I love you, too."
"Then come here," he held out his arms, pulling me into a hug when I sat forward. I rested my chin on his shoulder, smiling to myself as I looped my arms around him. He squeezed me tighter and thumped his hand against my shoulder before pulling back. "You should talk to me more."
"Yeah, okay," I said, shifting to lean back in the chair again. Dad smirked, ruffling my hair as he stood up to go. He paused in the doorway to the kitchen, one hand resting on the frame, and looked back toward me.
"Peet?" he said. I dropped my head against the back of the chair as I looked over at him. "She's worth the risk. It would be a mistake to let that go."
"Thanks, D-Dad," I said, smiling at him.
Thanks for your patience, guys! I know this chapter is on the short side, it's a bit of a transition for things, and the chapter divide fell here naturally. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Thanks for all your wonderful follows and reviews. Come visit my husband and I on tumblr! He's yourpeetaisshowing, I'm alonglineofbread.