As promised, here is a new chapter sooner than normal. I hope that you enjoy it. Please review! It's so important to me to hear what you guys think. I can't improve without your help. Also, I know that this relationship is a bit slow going compared to many of the fanfics I have read. I just felt that I should try and make it real. I hope you're all well. Thank you all for everything!

Lacey

DISCLAIMER (*cough* sinceiforgotlasttime *cough*): I do not own the Hunger Games. These awesome characters belong to Suzanne Collins.

"So, should we go over the plan again?"

"No, I think I've got it. Find Madge, walk up to her and her friends, engage them in conversation, you pull Madge aside and ask her out. You're a planning mastermind, Gale."

"Hey now. I brought you here for your support, not your sarcasm."

"Yes, sir," I say. We get out of the car and make our way to the body of students surrounding the fire. It's freezing outside. I wish I would have worn more clothing. I see Gale fidgeting beside me. "How's my hair?" he asks.

"It looks great, Gale," I say without looking.

"Good."

As we near the mass, he starts craning his neck trying to find Madge.

"Hey, Gale!"

Gale turns toward the voice. "Thresh! What's up, man?!"

Gale runs in the direction of the voice. While Gale talks with his friend, I decide to size up this bonfire situation. The fire is tall and roaring. Students are gathering around it for warmth, but some seem completely oblivious to it. Those people are sucking on the face of the person next to them. I hear shouting and laughing. I see a blonde guy that I don't recognize sticking his hand into the fire. Trying to impress a girl, I expect. Dumbass. I decide that I hate this. I turn back to where Gale was.

He is gone. Of course he is. That bastard. I'll kill him.

I decide to walk around, sure that I'll run into him eventually. Maybe he can carry out his plan without me and use Thrash or whatever his name was. I push my way through what feels like hundreds of people to get closer to the fire so I can warm myself. When I finally get close enough, I put my hands out to warm them.

"Didn't expect to see you here, sweetheart."

I cringe and look to my right. "Hello, Mr. Abernathy. Are you sure you should be near an open flame?" I've caught him drinking multiple times these past few weeks. Recently, I walked in the classroom ten minutes before first period and caught him as he unlocked his desk drawer and drank from his flask. When he realized I was there, he didn't try to hide it. He pointed the flask at me and said, "Want a sip, sweetheart?" I decided not to tell anyone.

He chuckles. "Clever. I wanted to talk to you about what you saw the other day."

"You don't have to worry about it, Mr. Abernathy."

"That's good to hear." I can't believe he trusts me. I shift awkwardly and start planning a get away. He says, "What brings you here tonight? I'm sure it wasn't to visit all of your friends."

Ouch. "Actually, a friend brought me here, and now I can't find him."

"Tough break. Well, that Mellark boy looks pretty eager to talk to you. He probably wants to talk about your project. I'll get him over here."

"N-," I start as Mr. Abernathy waves him over.

I flush. I can feel my throat getting dry. I see Peeta walking toward me from around the fire. I haven't talked to him since the incident at the bakery and have been avoiding his attempts at conversation for the past few weeks. I also missed our meeting that we were supposed to have last week.

"Have fun, sweetheart." I look toward Mr. Abernathy with my eyes wide. He smiles, and then gets distracted by a couple that is basically having sex on the ground next to him. "Break it up!" he shouts.

I lock eyes with Peeta. There's no escape now. He knows that I've seen him.

I suddenly feel too hot. When he reaches me, he says, "Hey, did you need something?"

I feel like I am choking. "Mr. Abernathy," I clear my throat, "He said that you looked like you wanted to talk to me about the project."

He smiles and looks to the ground, "Well he was mostly right."

"So, you don't want to talk about the project?"

"Well, not exactly," he smiles.

I am burning the hell up now. I need to get away from this fire. I don't want to be rude and blow him off. Normally, I would just walk away, but at the moment I feel like his company would be better than no company. Especially if it keeps me from having awkward conversations with teachers. I give in. "I will talk to you as long as we can get away from this fire," I say.

"Really?! Okay, lead the way."

I shove through the crowd and try to make my way to the bleachers set up just outside the throng with Peeta in tow. I climb up a few rows and sit near the end. Peeta sits an inch or two away. I start to cool off.

We sit in silence for a couple of really long seconds. "So," he starts awkwardly. He seemed so confident a minute ago. "Uhh, what was Mr. Abernathy talking with you about?"

"He wanted me to keep a secret."

Peeta leans in closer to me. I pull back, only slightly, but I don't think he noticed. "Was it about his little drinking problem?"

I raise an eyebrow at him and nod. "How do you know about that?"

"I caught him last year. I didn't have the heart to turn him in. I promised him I wouldn't say anything. I don't know if you've noticed, but I bring him bread once in a while. I don't think he eats much. He's really great at his job, and I don't want to see him go."

Mr. Abernathy can be a real asshole (e.g., about 5 minutes ago), but Peeta is right. I don't really want to see him go either. "Wow, he has a real problem," I say quietly.

"He does, but he's also the smartest man I know."

I nod. "I'm not going to say anything."

"I know you won't."

I look around the crowd and try to spot the elusive Gale. Still no sign of him. Peeta clears his throat. "Katniss, I want to talk to you about something."

"Okay."

He takes a quick breath, "We are doing this project together, and you're a great partner and everything, but I was wondering if…" he pauses, "If maybe…"

He has my attention. I start tapping my leg in anticipation. What? If maybe what?!

"Maybe we could be friends," he blurts out.

Oh. I feel saddened by this, but I'm not sure why. What was I expecting?

"I can't stand going on like this where we only talk about our project and then ignoring each other the rest of the time."

"I've never been very good at friends," I reply.

"Well, the way the friend thing works is that we tell each other the deep stuff. We can start with something simple. Like uh...what's your favorite color?"

I grin, "I don't know about that Peeta. That's a little personal."

He chuckles. "Seriously, though, what is it?"

"Green. Yours?"

"Orange."

"Like Miss Trinket's hair?"

"No, more like a sunset kind of orange." I nod. "So, what do you say? Friends?"

I smile, "Fine. I'll allow it."

He releases the breath he has been holding. You would think that he asked to marry me, damn.

"Great. Okay, glad that's over."

"What? You don't do this often?" I say facetiously.

"Ha! Make fun of me all you want."

"Oh, I will."

"I would expect nothing less from a friend."

Here I am, blushing again. "Would you like to get some hot chocolate or something? I'm pretty cold."

"Sure." He gets up and starts making his way down the bleachers. "Hey, Peeta?" He turns to me. "This has been bothering me for weeks." I shift from foot to foot, clasping my hands.

He looks at me, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Did I get you in trouble a couple weeks ago?" I blurt out as quickly as possible.

He furrows his brow and smiles. "What do you mean?"

"Well your mother looked pretty pissed…"

"Katniss, is this why you haven't been talking to me?"

I nod, ashamed. I avoid his eyes.

"I can't believe you're worried about that. I never wanted you to feel that way. My mom can be a real bitch sometimes. It took me a while, but I've learned how to handle it."

"So I didn't get you in trouble?"

"No. Absolutely not. Even if I got in trouble, I wouldn't take back what I did."

I'm beyond relieved. I thought for sure that woman was going to hit him.

"Now, can we go get that hot chocolate? I'm freezing over here." He holds out his arm for me to take. I grab around his elbow and accept his help down the bleachers. When we reach the ground, he grabs my hand and won't let me go. I realize he is taking advantage of my feeling bad for him, and he knows it, too. I decide that he deserves it, but only this time. We walk arm in arm to the concession stand. I feel much too warm for hot chocolate.