Part Three

Chapter Seven

I feel like I've been run over by a truck. I'm not sure what time it is but my body is letting me know that I need to move now or this might become a permanent problem. Groaning, I roll away from Peeta, gingerly put my feet on the carpet and clumsily walk to the bathroom. I feel hung-over.

God, I look hung-over. There is nothing remotely beautiful about the face peering back at me: puffy eyes, serious sheet marks, blotchy cheeks, chapped lips and dragon breath. I pull my hair back before brushing my teeth and rinsing off my face. Not much better. Oh well.

I make my way back to bed, wincing with every step. Nestling under the covers, I groan again and snuggle back into Peeta's side.

"Please tell me that I'm not the only one who feels like they ran a marathon in Sorels3." Peeta's voice comes out as a croak and I chuckle. "I haven't slept that hard in years."

"I'm pretty sure that fibers from the sheets embedded into my skin." My nose is cold so I press it into his side and he protests, getting up and making his way to the bathroom. I whine and roll to the side he's vacated; it's still toasty warm.

Once he's back in bed and we're comfortable again, he asks, "Whose brilliant idea was it to schedule back-to-back confrontations like this?"

"That would be me." I kiss is chest. "And I give you permission to veto any ideas I may have regarding future estrangements."

He raises his eyebrows. "There will be more?"

"God, I hope not. We're running out of people."

Peeta is quiet and I realize that I've put my foot in my mouth. He went from having a family—admittedly a dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless—to being alienated in a matter of hours.

I sit up abruptly, look down at him and place my hands on his chest. "Peeta, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking—."

He brings his hands up to cover mine. "Please don't apologize. I had a feeling that last night would happen, and I came to terms with that fact a long time ago. I'm actually just relieved its over, you know?"

I nod and lay back down. "Still."

"Now I have some control over the situation, which is what I've been trying to gain this whole time. The ball's in my court for once. Besides, I plan on keeping in touch with Rye, which is one good thing that came out of last night."

Leaning on my elbow, I reach to touch the short hairs near Peeta's temple. He smiles and leans into the touch; I murmur, "I meant what I said last night. About being your family? You and me."

His eyes glisten and I can hear the relief in his voice, "Thank you."

I hug him to me. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Peeta squeezes me tightly before pulling away and gently cups my chin. "Katniss, what she said, it couldn't be further from the truth. You know that, right? I mean, you believe me when I say that?"

I nod and take his hand, looking at our intertwined fingers. He's spent most of his life believing the lies his mother spewed and if I have to, I'll spend every day refuting her words. "That goes for you, too." He smiles.

Peeta and I lay there for a bit longer until our stomachs grumble about the lack of food. We turn our phones on and quickly shower, preparing for another big afternoon. When I get out of the bathroom, Peeta smiles and hands me his phone. There's a text from Rye.

I'm proud of you, bro. And tell Katniss I like her balls.

…

We decide that neutral, familiar territory is best. Peeta and I drive to Memorial Union and head to Der Rathskeller4 to meet Annie and Gale for a beer. It's a fairly popular place to study, though I'm not sure how much actual studying I ever did here. Too much beer, too much music.

Entering the Union from Langston5, we walk past the little counter selling ice cream and make out way through the old hallways, eventually veering right into the German beer hall: the 'Rat.' Peeta looks around and immediately spots Annie and Gale sitting in a corner near the popcorn machine. Annie sees us, smiles and stands, wrapping us each in a hug.

I look at Gale but he just purses his lips and nods. We take a seat across from them and order a drink. Where do we even begin?

"So how do we do this?" Gale still has the uncanny ability to steal my thoughts.

Annie quietly points out, "I don't think there are rules, Gale."

Peeta clears his throat—maybe it's a Mellark nervous tic—and says, "So you're graduating? Congratulations. Have you found a job yet?"

Gale looks at him for an uncomfortably long time before relenting and uttering, "Yeah. I'm heading to Eugene in a couple of weeks."

I chime in. "I hear the city is a lot like Madison."

"You could say there are similarities."

The four of us sit there for a while just looking at our pint glasses and occasionally steal glances at one another. Damn, this is awkward.

"I just don't get it, man." Gale's fingertips grip the edge of the table and his knuckles turn white. "How could you up and leave? How could you follow along so willingly after everything that happened?"

Peeta decides to hold my hand—a show of solidarity—and answers very simply, "I didn't have a choice."

I knit my eyebrows, Annie raises hers and Gale says, "Huh?" before Peeta continues. "Gale, I needed to get out of here. I needed to get out of that house; you know what went on there." He shrugs. "But more than that, I love her."

"She left you, man." He finally looks at me. "Katniss, you just left him there to rot. How could you do that? How do you justify that move?"

"I don't." I look down at the table and then back at Gale. "There's nothing I can say that will change what I did or how I hurt the people I care about. But I'm hoping that someday I'll be forgiven for the mistakes I've made."

"Yeah, well I'm not talking about some minor fuckup here—."

"Katniss, no." Peeta holds up a hand, asking Gale to wait a moment while he continues, looking at me. "Stop apologizing for things we've rehashed a million times over." Gale looks like he's about to interrupt but Peeta just looks over to him and keeps going. "Gale, with all due respect, we've both come to terms with things that happened before and after the accident. What happened was and is between Katniss and me. You were there for me and I will never, ever forget that. Thank you for that. I miss you man, but I'm not going to justify what we did anymore. Not to you, and not to anyone else. I would hope that someday you could accept our decisions and be happy for us."

"But what I saw—."

"What you saw was one side. One. I screwed up too, you know? And as much as I wish I could, there's nothing I can do about it now. But here I am—here we are—and we're good. We're happy."

Annie calmly interjects, "You three used to be so close. Don't you miss that?"

Gale's frustrated. "I was mad, okay? I can be mad."

Peeta nods and Annie looks at me. Gale has a right to own his anger. He slowly drums his fingers on the table. Change of subject. "So how's your family?"

A nervous laugh escapes my lips and Peeta smiles, joining in. "Well, let's just say that we won't be expecting a Mellark family Christmas card anytime soon." Gale and Annie look perplexed but Peeta simply says, "The shit hit the fan. It was a long time coming." He delivers the Cliffs Notes version—thank you Lord—and rolls his shoulders, seemingly ridding himself of the weight of the memory. I think I hear Gale mutter, "Damn."

Another silence creeps in so Peeta gets up to grab some popcorn for the table. Gale quips, "So Prim and Rory. My brother, your sister. What do you think about that?"

I look into his eyes and see a glimpse of the friend I once had. "On the one hand it's bizarre and on the other it makes complete sense." I laugh, "I don't think he gets a word in edgewise though. She doesn't know when to shut up."

He smirks and drains his glass, motioning to a waitress for another. "Yeah, well Prim has always said enough for both of them. He's a goner, but they're good together." Our eyes meet again as Peeta slides back into his chair. When I look at Gale, I oddly recall the day Peeta and I started dating—or whatever it is teenagers do when they're clueless and infatuated with the mere idea of making out on a regular basis—and flash back to that split second of thinking that maybe, just maybe, Gale liked me like that. But all I saw was Peeta. I smile when I remember and smile again when I realize without a shred of doubt that fate was on my side. It was always going to be Peeta.

"Rory's a smart kid," Peeta chimes in. "He's really grown up a lot."

Gale snorts. "Yeah, try telling my mom that. He came home after midnight a few nights ago and she's still pissed about it. Apparently the guy's grounded through June."

Annie laughs and says, "I wonder if Prim had anything to do with his breaking curfew?"

"Gah! I don't want to know, okay? I already asked about condoms and I died a little that day."

Peeta sips his beer and adds, "I bet she did, too!"

"When did you get old?" Annie accuses.

"When I found out my sister was dating a Hawthorne."

A sly grin breaks out on Gale's face. "Fair enough."

I smile back.

…

The conversation starts and stops in fits, but by the end of the evening we're comfortable enough to shake hands and walk away. Tomorrow is Prim and Rory's graduation and we'll see each other then. After that, who knows? Perhaps we'll talk again. Perhaps not.

Friendships are like Madison: everything changes.

…

Peeta drops me off at the house the next morning. He and Rye have plans to grab some breakfast and I need to spend some time with my mom. I open the door and smell the coffee, calling "Hello?" before combing through the cabinets, looking for some cereal. I mutter, "Thank you, Honey Smacks6" while grabbing for the box. I open the fridge and find the milk, pouring an obscene amount of cereal into a bowl and drowning it in skim.

"Hungry?"

Milk dribbles down my chin and I catch it with the back of my hand. "Hey, Mom." I put my bowl down on the counter and walk to her for a quick hug. She gently smiles and sweeps the stray hairs away from my face.

"Would you like some coffee?" She reaches for two mugs and pours us each a cup before sitting at the table. I take my bowl and join her, folding one leg beneath me on the chair.

"Where's Prim?"

"Still sleeping." She takes a sip of coffee but keeps her eyes on me. "You look lovely, Katniss. Happy."

I nod and reach for my mug. "I am. I'm very happy, Mom."

Since Dad died, our talks have always been like this. I think 'disjointed' is the right word. We don't know how to communicate without overstepping the boundaries we've so carefully plotted. I don't want to be coddled. She doesn't want to be inundated with emotions. It's almost like we're slowly dancing in a circle, wary of the other.

It again occurs to me that she and Prim have a very different kind of relationship. By the time my mother was ready to resume the role, I was too pissed off to give a damn. Prim, on the other hand, needed her. I had outgrown her by the time I was 14.

"Things will be different here when she's gone, huh? What are you going to do?"

Mom smiles a little and says, "I'm thinking of getting a cat. It'll be nice to have something to come home to." She takes another sip and says, "I'll be lonely, that's for sure."

I nod. "Yeah, I figured you'd miss her. She definitely adds something to this house."

"You did, too, you know. In your own way."

I shrug.

"We don't need to pretend to have an ideal relationship, Katniss. But we can stop pretending not to love each other." She reaches for the coffee pot again and refills. "I know what I was and I know what I wasn't. That doesn't mean I loved you less."

"Can I be honest? Because sometimes it felt like that." My cereal is long gone and I look in disgust at the leftover milk. I walk to the sink and rinse out my bowl before leaning my hip against the counter. "Sometimes I wished you'd just snap out of it and be the mom for once. I resented you for having to be the responsible one."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed." Mom sighs. "Do you really want to rehash all of this now?"

I turn to look out the window over the sink. "Not really."

Over the course of the next two hours she leafs through the paper and casually asks me about Massachusetts, Haymitch and Peeta. "Is he coming by? I thought he'd be here with you?"

"He should be here in a bit. He and Rye wanted to grab a bite to eat and talk about a few things before we fly out."

"So you'll be staying in New England, then?"

"I think so…for now, anyway. We both feel like it's become our home; where we're supposed to be." I reach for the sports section and say, "You're welcome to come out and visit us."

She pauses and whispers, "I'm sorry, honey. I can't go back there."

Minutes later Prim rushes down the stairs and we look at the girl we both played a role in raising. "Water. I need water. I ate way too much pizza last night and now I feel bloated." Yeah, that's her.

"You'll be wearing a robe. How much bloat do you need to hide?"

"Katniss!" Prim swings around and her hair hits my face. She looks crazed. "There is a photographer. These images will last a lifetime and I refuse to look…puffy!"

I laugh and Mom calmly says, "Easy there, sweetie. You have a couple of hours to flush out the salt."

Prim grabs one of the huge insulated mugs that hospitals hand out to patients and fills it at the sink before taking an apple and running back upstairs.

I hear a knock at the side door and Mom gets up to open it. Peeta greets her with a hug and walks into the kitchen, leaning over me for a kiss before making himself at home. He knows this house as well as his own.

"Where's Prim?"

"De-bloating upstairs." He looks from me to my mother and back again before I smile. "Don't ask. How's Rye?"

"Fine. We had a good time catching up." Peeta winks at me and helps himself to some orange juice. "Mrs. Everdeen, how have you been?"

"Peeta, you're marrying my daughter and have been a part of this family for close to ten years now. I think you can graduate to calling me Claire." She smiles and Peeta blushes, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh, right. I guess it's been engrained in me to call you Mrs. Everdeen. Tough habit to break."

She nods. "Things are fine. Work keeps me busy." Mom folds the newspaper back up and looks at the two of us, sitting across from her. "Thank you for watching over my girl. You always did take care of her in the way she needed to be."

"Mom—."

Peeta interrupts me, "Well, I love your daughter. I like to think that we look out for each other."

"It shows." She smiles again and gets up from the table. "I'm going to check on Prim. I'll talk to you both later."

My mother heads upstairs where Prim is undoubtedly steaming in the shower. I'm not exactly disappointed in our relationship. Maybe I had romanticized what kind of mother I thought she should be. What kind of family we should be. When I look at Peeta, my vision of family morphs and changes. I have a fiancée who loves me more than I can comprehend, a sister who has walked this journey with me without judgment and a mom who is still trying to navigate the waters. As much as I hated being the responsible daughter, a lot of my self worth was and is wrapped up in that role. My life is completely intertwined with these people I love more than I love myself. I've played a part in this, too.

It's not half bad. It's actually pretty good.

Chapter Seven Notes:

3. Sorels. I assume that everyone is familiar with the winter boots, but then again, I'm from Wisco.
4. Der Rathskeller. The Memorial Union has a few little restaurants and bars. Der Rathskeller is a German Beer House and is commonly called 'The Rat.' Der Stiftskeller is next door and serves food.
5. Langston Street. A street that runs parallel to State Street; virtually every fraternity and sorority house is located on Langston.
6. Honey Smacks. Such an under-appreciated cereal.