An Unlikely Pair

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By: DarkGiggle

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I make no profit so please don't sue me.

Warnings: Un-beta'd and looking for a beta. Rating and violence level will go up.

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PART 2

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Tomorrow is the reaping and the tensions are running high, it made school even drearier than normal. I'm still tense from school. The tightness is so bad that the cake in front of me is half way done and I can't relax into it. Normally decorating cakes (yes I know it's girly but just this one thing) soothes away my troubles. I can get lost in drawing, in creating, in concentrating on delicate work and narrow my world down to just one thing. Just one non-life threatening thing. No one ever bothers me during this type of work because the witch approves of it thus she keeps everyone away from me.

Not that there is anyone to distract me right now. Father is in the front, my brothers and the witch are out on delivery thus the bakery is so quiet now. It's rare that I am alone in the back and rarer still that decorating lets me notice. With the tension so high, radiating from every corner of District 12 the emptiness is smothering. I'm just about to put down my piping bag and join my father in the front when a knock sounds at the back door. It's a new speed record set for answering someone, to bad it's this someone.

I'm almost disappointed to see Hawthorne. Damn it. My friendliness could pull a decent twenty-minute conversation from anyone else, just not him or Catpiss. With her there is just a short one-way conversation and him... Well we can't fight here in town, he's from Seam and technically I'm a girl so the peacekeepers would be all over him. Thus we have settled into trading sarcastic remarks when he comes to trade. He is half to blame for this second unfriendly barrier we have because he only started trading with my family in person (instead of sending Catpiss) the day after Rory told everyone about seeing me. My only excuse is the resentment and anger were still fresh and sarcasm seemed like the best weapon at the time. Or it should have been but he is just as good at it. …No. Honestly he is better at it and the smug jerk often walks away from our trades leaving me sputtering in annoyance. I make a face before I can stop myself.

"Oh you're just so eager to see me, ain't you Panty," He says. Already the handsome asshole is smirking.

That wretched, but familiar nickname is thoroughly loathed! I want to punch him for it but the reason he calls me it in the first place is to get a reaction out of me. Instead I lean against the doorframe and flatten my voice. "Yes, I can't picture someone not being excited to see you." The lack of affect in my tone shows my control. Being unaffected will bother him more than my words.

His smirk gets more strained. "While I'd like to find out just how moist- er I mean, excited you are I have trades to get to."

It can't be helped; I flush with anger at his words. He is the only bastard that dares talk to me like this and I dislike him immensely for it. He and his damn brother always have to remind me I'm a girl. If he would please just leave I don't care if he calls this a win. I scowl and spit out, "So what do you have?"

He is almost sunny when he answers now, "I've got four rabbits, wanted to know if your family wants one before I head to Rooba."

My mouth almost waters. The males in my family like squirrel but my mother and I love rabbit; it's an absolute treat for us. A genuine smile breaks out on my face to go with my nod. He must be in a generous mood if he is selling us rabbit.

He takes a step back for some reason but then catches himself and says, "Okay, I'll bring you back one once the butcher is done skinning it."

"They still have fur?" I exclaim. "Please sell it to me whole, I'll pay for the pelt!" I know he could sell it to the fur trader or the tanner but if he did it would be so much more expensive for me to get my hands on real rabbit pelt. He looks at me funny. "Please, I can skin and cure it myself but it's so pricy to buy it."

He raises a dubious eyebrow. "You can skin?" Doubt is dripping from his voice.

Maybe I should be offended but budding excitement blocks it. The possibility of a real pelt is dangling before me. "Of course I can! When we buy Katniss' squirrels I always clean and skin them. I'm good with pelts! All of our winter clothes have squirrel lining inside! Please, please, please sell me the whole rabbit!"

Hawthorne backs up again and it's then that I realize I've invaded his personal space. Oops. Yet he seems to recover himself and tells me it will be pricy still. When he gives me his price my smile fades. Oh, that is more than my parents would be willing to pay. They are perfectly happy with the squirrel fur we get; it's just me that wants rabbit. But I really want this! There has to be some way! Suddenly it comes to me. "Rooba charges you to skin the rabbits well enough for trade right?" He nods. Of course she does, if it was easy to skin well enough for the tanner Hawthorne would do it himself. "What if I skin and clean them for you and you take the difference out of the price of the pelt?"

"How do I know you won't just mangle them?" His words are sharp but his lovely gray orbs look intrigued.

I'm getting excited again, oh this could happen! There isn't a single thing in the district that could stop my smile now. "Just let me show you! I'll buy the smallest rabbit, skin it and clean it now, if it's not good enough I'll owe you money, it'll take a bit but I can pay you off. If it's good enough I'll do the others for half off the pelt, yes?" I plead.

He still seems so reluctant but for some miracle he reaches into his bag and pulls out a smallish rabbit. I take the carcass, clear a space and pull out my special thin curved knife. It is specifically for skinning. It was expensive but I convinced my father that it would be an investment. It took me two years to master it. I get to work quickly and soon have a one-piece skin. I get out a bucket, fill it with water and some cleaners for the fur. A bit of scrubbing gets dirt and blood out of it. Carefully I flatten the pelt, press more fluids out of it, dunk in clean water, repeat the pressing then hang it to dry. Next is back to the rabbit to clean out the insides, inspect the organs and put them in a plastic bag. It's only then I look to Hawthorne hopefully.

He steps into the bakery for the first time ever and looks over my work. My breath stays lodged in my throat as he does. When he nods I start babbling about all the things I could stitch the fur into but the inside of gloves is the best option. Oh that would feel so nice! The other three rabbits are done in short order and I'm so happy I generously offer him the use of three of the bakery's plastic bags. Plastic is clean, handy and rare; it only comes from the Capitol but it will keep everything separated in his game bag. He can return them tomorrow. He is strangely silent when I pay him and shockingly he leaves without further word.

That can't be good. What upset him? Did I somehow do it? It wasn't intentional if I did. I seriously hope not because this great deal should be repeated! I let it go for now with a sigh. My hand goes to the rabbit fur on its own; though damp it feels so soft to the touch. Maybe if only the backs of winter gloves have this fur and the palm side has squirrel I can have enough rabbit fur for my whole family. The gloves would still be warm and soft but then this fur wouldn't wear out to easily. The thought makes me smile all over again.

When my family returns they immediately see the pelt and my brothers tease me for sewing like a girl. They are ignored for such silliness. Sewing fur into clothing lining isn't girlish. It is like skinning and cleaning an animal; it is a useful life skill to have. Since tonight is my turn to cook they really try to bug me about being girly. It does not get to me. Cooking is a life skill and it is one they have too so I don't know why they even attempt to tease me for it. In fact tomorrow and the day after are their turns to cook respectively. Although my siblings maybe older than me they have never been very good at teasing; they are lame like that.

The one good thing about the witch is that she also does see cooking, sewing, skinning and cleaning of any kind as important life skills so she doesn't get her hopes up by me doing them. She does say the fur would be prettier as trim for a coat, on a scarf and other pointless things like that. It is a beautiful light brown color and she is right it would be pretty, but it's for that reason I'm more determined than ever it will go on the inside of gloves where it won't be frivolous.

Frivolous is actually the nice way to describe the witch. I normally use shallow for her and down right superficial when I'm mad. The only thing she takes seriously is the business and everything else is about appearance with her. In one week she can find 60 different ways to mention what her friends and the other merchants think of her and her family. I am exactly the type of daughter she didn't want so she acts horrified every time I'm boyish. I think the rest of District 12 is immune to me by now, even if they don't approve of me.

In truth I think one of the great joys I get in life is by not being what she wants. I can't picture life to be worth much if I were as vapid as her. Or really any of the women I know. To be fair I only know the bedridden Mrs. Undersee and the near lifeless Mrs. Everdeen fairly well and despite their different lives they are just as feminine as my mother. As far as I see it being girly means being too weak to do the things you want. It means you have to be meek, timid, obey all social rules and hold back on enjoying life to the fullest.

My best friend Madge kind of confirms this. In public she is quiet and girly, it's like she fades away from life and people. In private, like with Katniss, Hawthorne or me she is much less girly, occasionally she will laugh so hard she snorts. Katniss also kind of makes my point too. She isn't very feminine and look what it does for her! She is brave enough to go beyond the fence, to hunt wild animals and raise her sister nearly by herself. Yet she isn't very boyish either. I think if she was boyish then she would be loud and upbeat like boys are. Maybe we would even get along then.

I sigh and stop my self from thinking further about that. I can't change her and I think she has enough on her plate anyway. I guess I just really want more friends. I stop myself again. Madge is enough, she has to be enough; her and my brothers, whom I am so close to, are enough. I'm just being greedy and want other people just to accept me. Ugh. I guess I am a bit like my mother; I do so want approval. I'm just not willing to give up who I am for it.

Part 2 End.

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Side Note: (Yes I posted parts 1 & 2 together). I am looking for a Beta for this story. My grammar is all self taught and I daydream too much to always make things clear on paper. I'm not looking for reviews from regular readers, so if you just have a random opinion about my work (good, bad or constructive) please keep it to yourself. I'm a weird writer that does not like reviews (or the effect they have on me) so please don't click that button!