Chapter 17

I don't end up picking up some supplies down at the Hob after talking with Peeta because I don't think I'm ready to talk with other people about anything. I can guess what they'll ask me about. And I don't want to hear the prodding questions.

How are you? Have you been doing alright?

How are you coping without Prim?

I grit my teeth as Peeta and I make our way back to Victor's Village. They don't understand what its like.

I glance over at Peeta and see a small, but genuine, smile plastered to his face. Its been there ever since we left the Hob and I can guess why. We're on a different level now. We've agreed to be there for each other, no matter what. Even if its as friends.

In a way, it makes me happy. I won't have to deal with the complications of kissing Peeta and trying to make sense of what my body seems to be telling me.

But there's also a biting curiosity that gnaws at me. What would it be like to walk with Peeta, but be holding his hand instead? I'm worried that I'm too much of a coward to realize what I want, but I firmly shake the thought from my head.

Friends is good.

He departs with a quick goodbye and promises to be over right as the sun goes down so he can be there for supper. I stay where I am, watching him, until he disappears into his own house and the door shuts completely.

The stew is nearly done when I step into the house, leaving me with nothing to do until Peeta decides to show up. I end up building a fire in the fireplace, challenging myself to light it only with flint and steel. It effectively burns my spare time and as soon as I have a crackling blaze started, I can hear a knock on the door.

"Its unlocked."

The door opens and Haymitch pokes his disheveled head in. "Heard you were in charge of dinner today," he growls, letting himself in and sitting down near the flames to warm up.

"Sorry, but dinner doesn't come served in a bottle here." I say.

"Funny, sweetheart." He looks miserable, cold. Strangely sober.

"Why are you sober?"

"Why are you so nosey?"

"Because every time you're sober, something bad happens." I say accusingly.

Haymitch snorts. "The boy is bad for you, sweetheart? Am I hearing you correctly?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Really now. How was your little rendevous with him anyways? Saw you run over to his house earlier." His snarky reply rubs me the wrong way.

"I told you. Its not like that." I say.

"Whatever, sweetheart."

"We're friends now," I huff.

"As opposed to...?" He says.

"Go away, Haymitch. This isn't helpful."

He laughs at my reply. "Well, I've got some news for you, sweetheart. You've finally taken a step in the right direction."

"No thanks to you," I growl, even though deep down I know he was partially to do with it.

"You're welcome."

Soon, Peeta comes over with some bread and we all sit to eat. There's a bit more conversation this time around. Haymitch ignores us as he jams food into his mouth while Peeta and I chat about our day.

Its actually Haymitch's idea that we hang out in the living room together. Its hard to believe that the old drunken fool would rather spend time with us than his hoard of bottles at home, but I'm not about decline. We sit and drink hot chocolate that Peeta makes.

Haymitch clears his throat once we're all done with the drinks and leans forward, elbows supported on his knees. "Listen up. There's a train coming to District 12 tomorrow with an escort from the Capitol. There's supposedly quite a bit of news circulating now that Peeta has returned home."

Peeta and I exchange a look. "So what does this mean for us?" I ask slowly.

"They want the two of you to do an interview. A small show for the cameras to let everyone know you're both safe and sound in District 12."

Rage. All I see is red. Is this how Peeta feels when he's having an episode? I suppress the urge to break something. Everything.

"No. I won't do it." My voice comes out steady.

"If Katniss won't, then I agree with her," Peeta adds, his eyes never leaving Haymitch.

Haymitch's face is grim. "You two don't have a choice. Tomorrow, you need to be ready for the two reporters they're sending."

"I can't do that," I snarl then, startling everyone, including myself. "Do you know how hard it is to run away from these bad memories? Memories you can't forget?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart," Haymitch responds, half-angry half-sympathetic. "We're all on the same boat. I don't want this as much as you do. But it was bound to happen. We need to help the new government stabilize the country."

"Easy for you to say. You're not going on camera," I snap, but Peeta lays a hand on my shoulder warningly.

"Haymitch, we'll think about it. I can't promise we will, but-"

Haymitch gets up, his expression weary. "I know, boy. But you really have to consider helping Paylor so the Games don't pop up again."

My blood freezes. "She wouldn't," I gasp, horrified.

Peeta has also stiffened beside me, no doubt from disbelief.

Haymitch's eyes are cold. "If this new government doesn't work out, then whats to stop them?"

I close my eyes. The Games. Coming back. Its all coming back now. All at once. And I can tell its happening to Peeta too because his breathing is shallow.

He abruptly leaves my side, muttering a quick goodbye and apology before disappearing. Haymitch stays a while, but doesn't push his luck. Instead, he ends up leaving too.

The flames in the fireplace have died by the time I open my eyes again.