Author's Note: Hey, guys! I wanted to thank you for your support. I am honestly surprised by the response. You guys are awesome! I've never written a fanfic before, so bear with me as I learn how to write creatively and not scientifically. Please, please, please review and let me know what you think. Am I following fanfiction etiquette correctly? Is there something I should be doing that I'm not? Feel free to PM me with any questions/concerns.
Also, there was some concern that I was going to make Madge evil. Rest assured, dear readers, that I like Madge and would never do such a thing. It will be okay, I promise.
If you would like, you guys can follow me on Twitter ( InSiriusDenial). Most of my tweets are about The Hunger Games, Lord of the Rings, and surprisingly, Footloose. I don't know how this happened. I hope to hear from all of you! Enjoy!
-Lacey
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. All of the characters belong to Suzanne Collins.
Despite my best efforts, I had Peeta Mellark on my mind for the rest of the day. As I've said before, I don't know much about Peeta. I know that he has been one of the most popular boys in school since we were young, I know that he participates in almost everything, and I know that his parents own a bakery down the street from my house.
I know that he is the kindest person I've ever met.
A few years ago, I took Prim to look at the cakes in the Mellark Bakery for her birthday. We didn't have the money to buy a cake, with my dad gone and mom trying to make ends meet. I wanted to do something special with her, something that she never got to do but always wanted to.
We walked in, and Peeta was at the front counter. He said hello, and Prim began talking with him while I looked on in silence.
"It's your birthday?!" he said, "Happy birthday! How old are you today?"
"Nine," Prim said with a blush.
"Wow! Practically a grown woman! Is there anything I can help you find?"
I took the chance to speak up, "No, we just came here to look at the cakes."
"Okay. Let me know if you need anything," he said with a smile.
He didn't breathe down our necks. That was something I experienced before when I was here with mom. Mrs. Mellark stood over you and made sure you bought something. Prim and I looked at the cakes. She oooh'd, ahhh'd and gasped when something struck her as exceptionally beautiful. "How could anyone eat these cakes? They are too pretty."
We walked toward the door and pushed it open when I heard a clattering in the back of the shop. Peeta ran out from behind the counter. "Wait!" he shouted.
Prim and I turned around. He stopped in front of us holding a box. "Here is something for your birthday." He handed the box to Prim.
"I don't have any money," I said sternly, taking the box from Prim and shoving it back toward him.
He put his hands up, rejecting the box. "Nononono, it's free of charge! Just something I made for the birthday girl."
If it hadn't been for the excited look on Prim's face, I would have taken the box and thrown it in his face. I didn't want his charity.
I handed the box to Prim reluctantly. She opened it and her eyes lit up. I hadn't seen her smile like that in ages. She looked up at me, her eyes threatening tears, and said, "Katniss…"
I looked in the box and saw a chocolate cupcake decorated with purple, fondant primrose. It was far more beautiful than the cakes. It was special. Just for Prim.
"Thank you!" Prim shouted. Still holding the box, she ran up to Peeta and threw her arms around his waist. He laughed and graciously accepted the hug, patting her on the back. "No problem," he said, "It's your day!"
"Come on, Prim." She released him, thanking him again for the cupcake.
When we got back to the house, I left Prim to eat. I went upstairs and cried for the first time since dad died. I got to see Prim smile again. It was a wonderful moment. I didn't even thank him, and I hate myself for it. I'll never stop owing him for that.
The bell rang for the end of the school day, shaking me from my thoughts. I walk to my locker to grab my coat.
"Catnip, wait up!" I turn around to see Gale dodging students that are walking on the wrong side of the hallway. He towered over all of them, so he wasn't hard to spot. He finally reached me and said, "Hey are you alright? You seemed kind of distracted at lunch today."
"I was distracted?" I retort. "How would you know? You were too busy drooling over Madge."
"I wasn't 'drooling', okay? I'm fairly certain I was able to keep most of the saliva in my mouth."
"Yeah, okay," I smirk.
"What are you doing later? You wanna take a walk through the woods, hunt, blow off some steam?" he asks.
"I can't. I have to meet Peeta Mellark. We have a project in A&P, and we are going to decide on responsibilities."
Gale's brow furrows, and he scoffs. "Seriously? It's the first day. I took Abernathy's class. You have the whole semester to do that project."
"Well some of us don't like to procrastinate until the night before, Gale. Besides, I'm glad that someone around here takes initiative."
Gale's features soften. "Fine. Let me know if you get bored with Mellark and want to do something interesting."
I close my locker. "Bye, Gale." I can tell he is upset. It has become somewhat of a tradition for us to go out into the woods after our first day of school. I make a mental note to make it up to him.
"Bye, Catnip." Okay, good. He called me that stupid nickname, so he must not be too mad.
After getting off the bus, I walked Prim back to the house. She jabbered away about her first day of middle school and all the new friends she made. I'm glad it wasn't horrible. I told her I was leaving, and she seemed glad that she would have the house to herself. "Do your homework, Prim. Stay off the phone. Mom will probably be home in half an hour."
"Yeah yeah yeah." I hug her and head down the street toward the bakery.
The walk isn't long, but it feels good to be outside for a while. The sun is shining. The light breeze carried with it the scent of autumn. It would be here soon.
When I am outside of the bakery doors, I take a deep breath.
Wait. Why am I nervous, exactly?
I clench my hands a few times and shrug back my shoulders to try and relieve some tension and pull open the door. A bell above the door rings. The bakery is empty, and there is no one at the counter to greet me. Slowly, I walk further inside. I glance around the counter and into the back room. He's got to be here, right?
I decide to go wait at a table. I'm sure they know I'm here. As I'm passing by the display cases, I can't help but be amazed. They have a large selection: breads, pastries, cakes, muffins, cupcakes. I stop at the end of the case. Whatever this is, I need it in my mouth.
"Hey!"
I jump, and look to my left. Peeta is standing there smiling (of course) and drying his hands with a towel. He is covered in flour and has a dusting of it on his right cheek.
How long has he been standing there? Quickly I say, "Sorry, I got here and no one was here, so I was gonna sit down, but then I got distracted and…"
"No, I didn't mean to startle you. You are allowed to look around," he laughs. "Do you see anything you like?" He walks over and sees what I've been eyeing.
"Ah. So that is what you were ogling when I walked out here."
"Guilty," I smirk. "What are they?"
"Well, these are a very special type bun. On the top of the bun is a cheese imported from Sweden. The cheese can only be made with the milk of a certain type of cow, during a specific season, and at an altitude of 1,500 meters. It's kind of a big deal."
"Really?" I say, impressed.
He laughs, "No, no. Kidding. It's just your regular cheese bun. I make these because it reminds me that things don't have to be complicated to be good."
I smile.
"Would you like one?"
"No that's okay. I…"
He cuts me off, "Please, I insist." He grabs a plate from behind him and uses a pair of tongs to grab me a bun. He walks around the counter and leads me to a table. I look down at the black and white checkered floor as we walk, afraid to meet his eyes.
He chooses a table and sits. He sets the plate on the table and looks at me expectantly. When I sit, I can smell the cheese bun. It smells better than I could have possibly imagined. I pull my eyes from the bun and look at him.
"We aren't going to talk about anything until you try it," he says.
Well, if he insists. I bring my fingers to the bun. I pull it apart and notice it is still warm. I tear off a piece and bring it to my mouth. When it touches my tongue it almost melts. I try me best to hide my pleasure, but it can't be helped. I stifle a moan, but my eyes roll back. I sigh before swallowing. Holy cheese buns, it is delicious.
"Good, right?" he asks.
"Good? Peeta, it's amazing."
"Thank you." We sit silently. I can feel his eyes on me as I continue to eat, no, devour the cheese bun. Normally I would be bothered, but not today.
When I finish he asks, "So, I think I know how we can work this out."
"Okay," I say hesitantly.
"I looked up psoriasis earlier today. We can split the report into four parts. Um, I can take care of the five different types and the symptoms, and I was thinking you could take care of the causes and how the disease progresses.
My eyes are wide, "Yeah, okay."
I can tell he is confused by my expression. "What?" he asks.
"Nothing, I'm just impressed."
He smiles, and I see his cheeks are tinged pink. "Thanks. Alright, how about in two weeks or so we meet back here to go over our information? We can bounce it back and forth and see what else we need."
I nod. He stands up from his chair, and I follow. He walks behind the counter and grabs a box similar to the one he gave us with Prim's cupcake years ago. He walks over to the end of the display case, pulls out a few cheese buns, and places them in the box. He walks out from behind the counter, his eyes on me the whole time. He stands directly in front of me with the box held out for me to take.
I am unable to meet his gaze. This checkered floor and I are becoming fast friends.
"Take it," he says.
"Peeta I…I can't accept this."
"Of course you can. I'm sure Prim will be jealous if she finds out you got a cheese bun and she didn't." I can't believe he brought her up. My heart melts. He is persuasive, I'll give him that. I take the box.
"I hope she paid for that," says a cold, annoyed voice.
I look up at Peeta. His smile is gone. He closes his eyes while dread and disappointment begin to take over his normally happy face.
I look over his shoulder and see his mother. "No, mother. She did me a favor, and I am paying her back, okay?"
She scoffs. I look back at Peeta, and it's the first time I have ever seen uncertainty on his face.
He says, "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, alright?" He tries to smile, but all I see is a fear. He grabs my hand.
Uuuuhh…he is holding my hand. I jump a little. I hope he didn't notice. Initially, I fight the urge to slap him across the face, but my body gives in. I squeeze his hand in response.
He caressed my hand with his thumb, and it felt white hot. Electric. I've never been more aware of someone touching me. The moment felt like forever but was over too quickly. "Bye, Katniss."
He lets go. I feel loss. I barely manage to stutter out, "Bye," as I back toward the door. He turns and goes behind the counter. That is all I see as I'm out the door and walking back home.
What happened in there? I feel flustered and scared. I hope he isn't going to be in trouble. His hand, though. So soft, yet strong, and warm. And, I let him hold my hand. I let him. What the hell? Why?
Pull it together, Everdeen. It's not a big deal. It was just a farewell, it's not like you have to marry him now or anything. Plus it was only for a second. You know what you should be focusing on? The fact that you got him in trouble. It's your fault. His mother is a total bitch, and she definitely isn't going to let it slide.
I walk in the house and turn into the kitchen. I place the box on the counter. Prim's voice shakes me out of my thoughts. "Hey, what are those?" She is sitting at the kitchen table with what looks like homework spread about.
My voice feels thick. "They," I clear my throat, "They are cheese buns."
"Yum! Can I have one?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure. Of course."
I turn to go back up to my room. "Katniss?"
"Yeah?"
"Your cheeks are all pink. Are you okay?"
Damn cheeks. Traitors. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"It was Peeta wasn't it? He is really cute."
"God, no Prim. What? I just don't feel well is all."
"Mmhmm."
"Don't eat all of those buns, got it?" I say changing the subject and giving her a glare.
"Mmhmm," she says again. She is smirking at me. How is it that sisters always know when shit is bothering you?