Chapter 4

We eat quietly. The food is giving us an excuse to remain silent and I think we're both thankful for that. I get up and get another bowl. So does Peeta, he grabs the ladle and gives me a big helping.

"Thank you," I mumble.

Peeta nods. He gets himself some more as well and we return to our seats. I wonder if we should be talking. Is eating in silence odd? I try to remember when we used to eat together. Peeta and I have shared meals together before. Did we talk then?

"How is it?" Peeta asks, breaking the silence.

I look at him, confused. Lost in thought.

"The stew" he confirms for my benefit.

"Good" I shake my head, clearing my thoughts "it's very good. I like it."

"Good" Peeta says.

We keep eating. It's too quiet. I haven't actually wanted to talk since I've been back to twelve. I've spent most of my time avoiding anything resembling a conversation but now I feel like I'm supposed to be talking. But there aren't many safe topics for us to talk about.

"Thank you for inviting me," I blurt out remembering Effie's lessons in etiquette.

"Of course," Peeta says, seeming surprised I spoke "it's nice to have some company."

"How long have you been back?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

"About a month," he says avoiding my eyes "they flew me in from the Capitol... or what used to be the Capitol... or whatever they're calling it now."

"Right..." I say trailing off.

"Have you spoken to anyone?" he asks, looking down at his bowl.

"Well, I live with Greasy Sae so I've spoken to her."

"I mean... anyone outside of twelve."

"No." I say also looking in my bowl.

"Oh, okay." Peeta looks odd.

"Have you?" I ask.

"Me? I talk to Haymitch sometimes. He kinda floats around... and some other people..."

"Like who?" I ask. He's not telling me something important. I can tell. It's making me incredibly uneasy. I haven't had a secret kept from me in a long time.

"Just... people." he says.

"Anyone I would know?" I ask sharply, feeling more awake than I have in a long time.

Who could he be talking to? Effie? Plutarch? Is he going to go on Plutarch's awful singing show. I suddenly find myself trying to remember if Peeta has a good singing voice.

"You mother" Peeta says blankly.

"What?" I ask.

"I've talked to your mother a few times."

"Why have you talked to my mother?" I ask.

"She wants to know how you are. She said she hadn't heard from you..."

Suddenly I'm furious. Why should Peeta talk to my mother? I hate the thought of them talking about me. About how I'm not talking to either of them. It makes me sick.

"Well, I haven't talked to anyone really so..." I say sharply.

"Not even-"

"No. Not even." I say. Knowing who he means. Knowing that if he says his name I'll fly off the handle. Knowing that if he says his name I will loose any kind of progress I have made over the last couple months pretending that he doesn't exist and that all those terrible things that happened to me were just a bad dream.

"Gale" he finishes.

"I should go" I stand up. I have to leave.

"Katniss-" Peeta tries.

But I loose it. I loose all of my self control and I can't now I can't stop talking.

"No, Peeta. I haven't talked to Gale. I have not called him. He has not called me. Neither of us have made visits. Because I don't want to talk to him and I think he knows why."

"Katniss, I'm sure he-

I stand up and throw my bowl into the fireplace. Sparks fly and I get soot all over my clothing and face. Peeta looks at me, eyes full of calm concern.

"He killed my sister!" I scream. Hot tears stream down my face making clean tracks in soot. "She's dead because of him!"

"You can't blame him for that" Peeta tries to come closer to me but I step away.

"Gale created a bomb that would explode twice." I said, my voice cold "Once to cause damage and again so that when-"

I break off for a moment. Unable to continue and Peeta hands move. It's as if he'd like to reach out and touch me. I pull away, wipe my face clean with my sleeves and start speaking even louder and with more resolve.

"So that when people came to help, they would be taken out by the second blast. Sound familiar?" I attempt to laugh darkly but it comes out as a choked sob.

"Katniss, even if it was his bomb there's no way he could of-"

"He killed her!" I am shrieking now. The more hysterical I get the calmer Peeta does and this drives me crazy. Because I don't want quiet understanding. I didn't want someone to nod and tell me that it was going to be okay. It wasn't going to be okay.

"Katniss." He tries again, his hands stretched towards me, palms up, begging for me to stop for a moment. But I don't want to. I don't want anyone's help.

"Real or not real, Peeta?" I taunted "My best friend killed my little sister?

He looks like I have just slapped him. And I am amazed by how much his reaction satisfied me.

"Real or not real?" I continue, with more fervor "I'm the reason almost everyone from twelve is dead?"

Peeta almost stares through me. I've lost his attention. Desperate to regain it I take a step closer.

"Real or not real? Your whole family is dead because of me."

His eyes focus on me for a second. Then glaze over again. I slam my palms into his chest and he's knocked back a few steps.

"Real or not real, Peeta? My mother is never going to be okay again." I start to speak even faster, punctuating each question with another shove "Real or not real? I'm never going to be able to close my eyes without seeing my little sister on fire? Real or not real? Because of me Finnick is never going to be able to see his son? Real or not real, Peta? Because of me, you'll never be normal again? Real or not real, Peeta? Real or not real?"

"Katniss, stop!" Peeta clutches my wrists and his pupils are tiny. I look at him absolutely shocked, my words stuck in my throat.

For a moment we are both absolutely silent. Neither of us breathes. I'm terrified I have pushed him over the edge. I look around the room for a blunt object, and suddenly I'm in the arena again, the first one, the second one, the Captiol. My heart starts to pound I can hear the sound in my ears. I see the ladle. But before I can run for it Peeta exhales and looks at me. He's himself again. I sigh with relief.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Katniss?" I'm shocked, unable to move.

I can only blink at him.

"You can't just do that. Do you have any idea how hard it is, for me to be around you?" He lets go of me and balls his fists up and at his sides. He clenches and unclenches them.

Clenches and unclenches.

"I understand that you're grieving. But goddamn it, you can't do that to me, Katniss!" He advances on me and for just a moment he looks just like he did before he tried to strangle me. I back away, letting out a tiny sob. All of the adrenaline I felt moments earlier is gone.

He looks crestfallen. His hands relax and he just watches me as I dissolve into tears. His hands twitch, as if he wants to hold me but he knows he shouldn't. I put my head in my hands and I cry for what feels like hours.

Soon enough I feel hands rest tentatively on my shoulders. Then my back. Then stroking my hair. I sob into his shirt.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." he says into my hair.

And we're quiet for a while. My hiccuping sobs are the only sound. I cry until I don't have any tears left.

"She's gone." My voice is hoarse, from screaming and lack of use.

Peeta nods.

"I shouldn't have-" suddenly, I can't look at him "I shouldn't have said those things to you."

Peeta doesn't tell me that's okay. He just stiffens for a moment.

I look up at him and he's looking straight ahead, not seeing anything.

Suddenly, I feel like I might be able to cry some more. But I realize there is something very important I have to say.

"I am so sorry."

Peeta shakes his head. It looks like he's trying to speak, but he can't.

"Peeta?" My voice sounds so small.

"Peeta?" His eyes dart towards me.

"I'm so sorry for everything you've lost because of me. I never meant for-"

I stop.

"It should have been me." My fists ball up, and I stick my chin out trying to be strong and keep my composure.

"Every time. It should have been me. In the first games. During the Quell. In the war. You never deserved this."

I grab his hand and he flinches. I hold it tight, kneading gently, it until he is able to relax again. Once I've gotten both his hands open again I look up at him for a minute. He still looks lost, but more gentle. More like the Peeta I used to know. It's almost like he's lost in a daydream. I start to leave, knowing I can't do anything else for him now. I'm just reaching the door when.

"Don't blame Gale." I turn around. "Don't blame him and don't blame yourself. Awful things happen when you're at war."

I lean against the doorframe. Clenching it, wanting to run to him and hold him. But I know it won't help. I know I'll just make things worse for him.

"Okay." I whisper.

And with that I leave.