I jump at Gale's voice, "What was that all about?" He says, opening the door to the study a crack.
"Damn you, Gale! You scared me…" I pant, holding my heart.
He opens the door completely and envelopes me in one of his trademark hugs. "I can see that. So what's so important you talk to Cinna about?" He grimaces as he says Cinna's name.
Repulsed, I push myself from his grasp. "Why were you listening to my conversation? That was a private phone call!" I yell.
"I was on my way to your room, your mother said that's where I could find you, but I heard you talking, so I stopped to listen. I came to see if you were alright." He says, a bit taken aback.
"Of course I'm not alright. Do you think you would be alright if you had to go into the games not once, but twice? I didn't think so!"
"Sorry, sorry!" He says, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. "So, you going to tell me what's up, or am I just the confidante from the past?"
"Never you mind. I have secrets too, you know," I answer, shoving my way past him and out into the hall. "And you know it isn't like that."
"Catnip…" He hesitates.
"Stop-it Gale. I don't need it from you too!" I exclaim. "I'm fine, totally and completely fine. I'm going back into the Games, Gale, and lets face it. I'm probably not coming home alive this time. Its probably best we get our goodbye's out of the way now…"
"Katniss, if you think like that, then you'll for sure come home in a box. Think about Prim, your mother. Me. You're coming home. Alive. And I wont have it any other way." He says, and leans toward me, planting his lips squarely on mine, and before I have time to shove him away from me, he's taking off down the hall, and I hear the front door slam as he storms out.
I feel the tears coming on, so I try my best to hide before they can escape my pitiful eyes. Unfortunately for me, the place I decide to hide already has a resident. Prim. She is sitting in a dark corner of our 'formal' living room, and the tears are pouring from her face. She is sobbing, huffing, trying to calm herself down.
"Prim?" My voice is hoarse.
Startled, she looks up to me and immediately sobers up, wiping any remaining tears from her blushing cheeks.
"What's the matter, little duck?" I say, a halfhearted smile across my face.
She just looks at me, mouth gaping open, and then begins to sob again. I half jog over to her corner, then slide down the wall to sit next to her. She lays her head in my lap and begins blubbering indistinguishable words. I stroke her hair, comforting her.
"It's okay, little duck…" is the only thing that comes to mind.
"No, Katniss, it isn't." she says, sitting up. "This is all my fault. If you hadn't volunteered for me last year, then none of this would have happened. I would be dead, and you would be alive, and happy, and you wouldn't be going into the Games again…"
I gasp as her words find meaning in my head. She wishes I hadn't taken her place. She wishes she were dead. "Prim! No!" I say. "I wouldn't be happy. In fact, I would probably be a bigger mess than I am now. I cant stand the thought of losing you, little duck. Don't ever speak like that again." I say, tears now flowing freely.
We sit there, in the corner of the room crying, comforting each other. Calming down long enough to take a look at the other, just to refuel the ever flowing waterfalls. After a while of on-again, off-again tears, we fall asleep on each other, only to be woken by the sound of a ringing telephone. It isn't even light outside yet, who would be calling this early in the morning?
"It's okay, Katniss. It's probably Cinna." Prim says through a yawn, as she sits up from my lap. She's right. I hoist myself from the floor, and run to get the phone.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Hey, Katniss, I just wanted to let you know that I am on my way. The train is leaving in around two hours" He sounds tired. "I would have called sooner, but I didn't have the time. I was looking over your new designs, thinking about costumes for the Quell. You know."
"No, its fine, Cinna. I'm just glad you could come. We need to discuss my new designs anyway." I say, going along with what I think is his version of a cover story. Clearly he knows my reason for his urgent visit has nothing to do with clothes. I always was a terrible liar.
"Okay, well, I'm going to get some rest. I'll see you in a few days." He says, yawning.
"Alright. Can't wait-" click, and all I hear is an empty dial-tone.
The next few days drift by slowly as I anticipate Cinna's arrival. I try my best to subdue the vomiting fits in front of Peeta and Haymitch, but it doesn't work. They definitely know something's up, and they keep hounding me for answers. Telling me that my mother should have treated me by now.
"I know, I know. I just thought it would go away on it's own is all. I'll talk to her today." I say, trying to calm them down.
"Good, sweetheart. You need to be on you're A-game." I send a scowl his way, which quickly turns into a smile, which he returns.
"I wasn't smiling at you, fool." I say, laughing. "I was smiling at him." I point behind Peeta and Haymitch toward my favorite stylist. Cinna is finally here. I start to run toward him, and instantly find that that isn't such a great idea. When I reach him, he envelopes me in a hug, and we walk off toward my house without so much as a backwards glance.
As we walk up the path to the Victor's Village, I check to make sure no one is around, and I pull Cinna to the side.
"I think I'm pregnant. Well. I don't think, but I am pretty sure. I mean, I've missed two monthlies. And I never miss monthlies…" It all comes out in a rush, and even I'm not sure if I understood a word that came from my mouth.
"Whoa, Katniss. Slow down, start over."
I sigh. "I think I'm… pregnant." The last word turning to a whisper.
Its as if all of Panem has gone quiet, he doesn't say a word. You could hear a pin drop here on the cobblestones. Minutes go by in the eerie silence before he speaks.
"Ar-are you sure? How? When?"
"Well, I cant think of any other explanation for the lack of monthlies, vomiting, picky eating, crying fits." I sigh, not wanting to tell him about my night with spirits. "On the night of the Quell announcement. I went over to Haymitch's, and well. Lets just say I don't remember much past that. Until I woke up next to Peeta. Naked…" I finish. I keep my gaze toward the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes. I feel like I have shamed myself by telling him this.
"Oh Katniss," he whispers, pulling me into a gentle embrace.
It's reaping day. Even in the early morning light, I can tell today it will be uncomfortably hot. Cinna decided to stay with us until the reaping, saying he would ride back to the capitol with us on the Tribute train. I am restless, and cant sleep, so I quietly dress, and head for Peeta's. Ever since the Quell announcement, Peeta has been… Distant, to say the least. Granted, I haven't been much better about trying to spend time with him. As I walk up the porch stairs, I see that Peeta too, is awake, and banging away in the kitchen. I guess baking really is his escape.
I walk in, not bothering to knock. "Hey," I say. "Couldn't sleep either?"
"You too, huh?" He says.
I shrug, and take a seat at the kitchen table. He hands me a crescent roll, and sits across from me. The reaping isn't until two, and I cant go into the woods today, so Peeta and I sit in his kitchen, quietly enjoying each others presence until we decide its time to wake Haymitch and get him looking presentable.
On the way across the lawn, Peeta finally decides to strike up a conversation. "You going to tell me what's really been going on?" He asks nonchalantly.
Startled by his sudden curiosity, I stop dead in my tracks. "Wh-What?" I stutter, dumbfounded.
"I asked if you were going to tell me what's really been going on with you. You haven't really been the same since the Quell. Well. Neither have I, but its different for you. Like you are afraid to tell me something… Are you afraid to tell me something?" He persists.
"Yes. Yes and no." is the only answer I can muster up before we walk in to Haymitch's house.
I guess Peeta was satisfied with my answer, because he doesn't try bringing up the subject again.
The population of District Twelve waits patiently, silent and sweating in the square. I stand alone in a small roped-off area, Peeta and Haymitch in an identical pen, just to my right. Effie scrapes the bottom of the girls reaping jar, desperately trying to grasp hold of the one slip of paper with my name on it. Haymitch is reaped, and instantly Peeta volunteers. The peacekeepers are ushering us into the Justice building, they're telling us that there are new procedures this year, and then we are shoved unto a car.
There are no reporters at the train station, no crowd to wish us farewell. Effie and Haymitch appear, escorted by guards, help us onto the train, then slam the doors, where I am left to watch my district fade by, all of my unspoken goodbyes, hanging from my lips.
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