I didn't want to be a father. I didn't want to be a husband.

Of course, I kept my mouth shut about that, and told Lola everything would be okay. But I didn't see how anything could ever be okay again.

I went home and went to bed that night missing my father more than I ever had. I wasn't sure if he would have known what to do, or how he would have reacted to the news, but I knew I couldn't tell my mother. She was struggling to keep her family fed with a baby of her own. How could I tell her that we would be having another one? And it was mine.

At first I was mad at Lola. How could she have let this happen? But then I reminded myself that I was just as responsible as she was, even though I was admittedly in the dark a bit about the cycles of women and how it all worked. I had no one to ask about such things, but then I chastised myself because I should have asked Lola herself.

I wasn't sure if our parents would let us get married. Lola was old enough to decide for herself, but I wasn't, and would need my mother's permission. I knew that some young girls who got pregnant let their parents raise the baby, and wondered if Lola's parents were such people. I couldn't ask my own mother as she already had a baby to feed and certainly didn't need another one. And would Lola even allow that? I really had no idea.

The next day while we were hunting, I watched Katniss and thought how lucky she was to be so young and innocent. She was oblivious to such troubles as unwanted babies. But then I reminded myself that this would be the first year her name would be in the reaping, and I felt a stab to my heart to think of her subjected to such a cruel fate. Twelve was so young, and any tribute that age faced certain death.

I went to Lola's house every chance I could, but kept finding an empty cellar. I knew we needed to talk—to make a decision—several, actually, and I started to wonder if she might be avoiding me. A part of me wished she would just go away. I knew it was childish, but I suddenly regretted all the stolen moments in her cellar and wished we'd never met.

I started looking for her in school. Her classes weren't near mine, but every chance I got, I'd check the parts of the school where the older kids had class. I finally saw her at the end of the day one day, running out the back door. I started running too and caught up to her just as she rounded the corner and headed behind the school. I had frequented this part of the school quite a bit and felt a wave of dread as I turned the corner. She was in the arms of another boy and I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach.

I stopped and watched them kiss and just let out an astonished, "Lola," under my breath.

She looked over at me and the boy stepped towards me, ready for a fight. He was the same height as I was, but clearly much older—maybe even older than Lola.

Lola put her hand on his chest to stop him and said, "It's okay. I'll just be a minute," as she stepped forward, grabbed my arm and took me back around the corner.

I was upset, but determined not to show it. When we stopped and faced each other, I just clinched my jaw, waiting for her to explain and for me to get my emotions under control.

She kind of laughed nervously and said, "I've been looking all over the place for you."

I could see she was lying and hoped I was making her uncomfortable.

"Where've you been?" she asked.

"I've been looking for you," I said and cleared my throat so I wouldn't sound upset.

"Well, you found me!" she said lightly.

I just frowned and wasn't sure what to say next.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Gale. You don't own me."

I kind of thought I did.

"Roman used to be my boyfriend a long time ago and now he wants me back. Don't be mad."

"Don't be mad," I just repeated stupidly. I was furious. And shocked.

She rolled her eyes and made a little pouty face.

"So, when did this happen?" I asked. I gritted my teeth before I asked the real question I wanted answered. "Could the baby be his?"

Her expression went blank for an instant and then I saw the light come on. "Oh, yeah, that. There's no baby. I started last week. I was going to tell you."

And just like that, I got my life back.

I was happy to be rid of Lola. Grateful to Roman who stole her from me. And determined to never allow myself to be in that predicament again.

For a while—a short while—I had no interest in girls at all. I spent my free time hunting with Katniss and started to appreciate her company more. She wasn't anything like the older girls I knew. She was sweet and genuine and innocent, and for the first time, I appreciated innocence as a quality in girls.

I grew to genuinely like her and got to know her mother and little sister a little better, and enjoyed my time with them as well.

So, on the day of the reaping, I had a new person to worry about. I worried about myself, of course. Even though this was only my third reaping, I had signed up for tesserae at every opportunity, and knew it increased my odds considerably. Katniss had as well, but at twelve, her odds were still better than mine.

I stood and watched Effie Trinket babble on about the Games from the podium and my eyes scoured the crowd of kids. I hoped my friends would be spared and craned my neck to see as many of them as I could.

The girl's name was always picked first, and I looked over and spotted Katniss looking pale and young—like a child—not the confident hunter I'd come to know.

I held my breath for her as the slip of paper was drawn. I could see the worry in her face and wished I could say something to her to make it better, but knew that my own worry would be up next.

I listened for her name and when I heard the words, all that registered was that the name Katniss Everdeen hadn't been called. A hush fell on the crowd as the unlucky girl made her way to the end of her row and stepped into the aisle. And that's when I realized who it was and my heart sank.

Lola was our new girl tribute.