We're roughly a third of the way through the story now! I'm going to slow down a bit on uploading; I don't want to be overbearing.
As usual, Prim is right. I get a great price for the turkey dinner, at least partially due to the addition of rolls, and both mine and Gale's families eat well. My stash of coins is growing, although I doubt I could afford even a couple matches yet. Gift prices are meant for wealthy Capitol benefactors, not District teenagers, but I'm determined to get there eventually.
Later that night, I turn on the television. I'm almost scared to watch, but I know it won't help to pretend it's not happening. For better or for worse, I need to know.
I'm surprised to see not the arena, but the town square in the Capitol. And no tributes, but our own Haymitch Abernathy onscreen, looking a little less drunk and a lot less greasy. He's even wearing a tie- how shocking. Effie Trinket is there too, standing at his shoulder like she's holding him hostage.
"I'm not answering that," Haymitch says, visibly offended. I can only what the interviewer might have asked that would disgust Haymitch, a man who, by all accounts, is disgusting.
"Well, fine." The reporter moves on quickly. "This is the first time in five years both tributes from District Twelve have made it past the first day. What might you accredit that to?"
"Maybe because they started closer to midnight?" Haymitch jokes. It's subtle, but I notice Effie dig her nails into his shoulder. "No, it's because they're working together. Haven't seen that before, have you?"
"Not from District Twelve, no."
Fortunately, the screen switches back to the arena, and I see why Gale and Madge are a topic of conversation right now. They're sneaking up- oh no. They're sneaking up on the Careers' camp.
My breath hitches in my throat. This is a terrible idea. What happened to laying low and picking berries? I want to screech at him, but of course, no one has taken my opinion into account. And screeching would do nothing. All I can do is watch and wait, paralyzed with fear.
The Careers have moved their camp from the Cornucopia to the edge of the woods. They have cover now, but they're still fully in control of the clearing. A fire is crackling, and four sleeping bags are spread out around it. They have a mound of supplies stacked up, the horde from the Cornucopia. That must be what Gale is after- there's enough food to keep him and Madge alive for weeks, not to mention the tempting silver bow at the top of the pile.
I don't get a very good look at the camp. The camera moves again, this time to Cato, Clove, and Glimmer tramping through the prairie. At least Gale has picked a good time for an ambush- there's only one person guarding the camp right now, while the rest of the Careers hunt down some other poor tribute.
To my relief, the camera focuses again on Gale. Him and Madge lay prone, just outside of the enemy camp. I get a glimpse of Marvel, sitting on a log by the fire, sharpening his spear. He has no idea he's being watched, nor would I expect him to. Gale is a fantastic stalker, and he wouldn't have brought Madge with him if she wasn't capable of staying hidden.
The reminder of Gale's talent gives me hope. How many times have I watched him sneak up on an animal with great success? And Marvel can't even smell him, so Gale has that advantage as well.
However, the animals Gale and I stalk are typically unarmed, and they also haven't trained in murder academies for years. Just two of the many differences between Marvel and a white-tail deer.
The other difference is that Gale is practically unarmed. No bow, no snares, just some itty-bitty throwing knives and his fists. Luckily, Gale decides to use the knives. You don't go in with your fists when the other guy has a spear. That's like, lesson one of combat.
Gale holds one knife in his teeth and another in his right hand. As well as he can while lying on his belly, with brush cover no less, he raises his hand above his shoulder and prepares to throw. I hold my breath, terrified, as his wrist brushes a twig and Marvel looks his way. Gale's only advantage is surprise. If Marvel- the guy with all the weapons- charges, he is a goner. Madge too, I guess, although that barely crosses my mind at the time.
Gale reacts instantly, but he makes what may go down in history as "the wrong choice". He throws the knife without aiming and unsurprisingly misses. The knife sticks the tree next to Marvel, who now definitely knows somebody's there. With a roar, the boy from District One throws his whetstone aside and leaps to his feet, spear in his hand.
Gale stands up quickly, and Marvel trains his spear on him, but when Madge pops up a second later, he's distracted just long enough for Gale to stab him with the extra knife he held between his teeth.
I wonder if they planned that move.
Marvel lets out a croak and falls over. A cannon blast follows. The battle is over; the battle really only lasted a few seconds, but when I take my next breath, it feels like it's been years.
"They probably heard him yell; they definitely heard the cannon," Gale says grimly. "We need to run, now, or the pack will be on us."
"Grab the bow first!" Madge insists. She looks to be shaking a little, probably a side effect of the manslaughter, but she's right. Grabbing the bow will only take a few seconds off their head start and will make a huge difference for their survival.
Gale doesn't argue, just scrambles up the supply pyramid to snag the bow and quiver. Madge shoves packets of food into her pocket and they're fleeing the scene within ten seconds.
"Get back to camp. Run up the river a ways; make sure they lose your tracks," Gale orders.
"What about you?" Madge asks, catching his arm before he can leave.
"I'm going the long way. I don't want them to figure out who killed him, or where we're camping. C'mon, go!"
His tone is so urgent; I wouldn't delay, but Madge does. She pulls him in by the arm and kisses him fiercely, like this might be the last time, but it's definitely not the first. "Be safe," she murmurs, and then they take off in opposite directions.
Even though they're in grave danger, even though they're running for their lives, I think if I could feel anything right now, it would be jealousy.
§
"They did it," Haymitch breathes, frozen in place looking at the screen. He can't tell if he's more shocked or delighted- how long has it been since he was "delighted"? It certainly doesn't happen every day, but then again, neither does a heist like Gale and Madge just pulled off.
"I can't believe it!" gushes Effie, who would be bouncing up and down if not for her intense devotion to manners.
Overcome with what one might call glee, but what Haymitchwould never call glee, he scoops her up and spins her around. In this moment, it doesn't matter that Madge and Gale's teamwork will surely come back to bite them, that the Careers are surely going to hunt them down. In this moment- and only this moment, if you believe Haymitch's grim assessment of their luck- they are victors.
§
I stare at the screen until the wee hours of the morning. My eyes ache and I'm exhausted, but I have to know that Gale and Madge are safe before I can sleep. I watch the three remaining Careers storm the forest in search of Marvel's killer, but Gale's plan works. They lose both sets of tracks in the river, and it ends with Cato and Clove screaming at each other.
It's very close, but it doesn't come to blows. Glimmer steps in and convinces them to go back to their camp, which they left unguarded. I'm disappointed. If Cato and Clove would take themselves out, Gale's chances of survival would increase tenfold.
I take comfort in knowing while the Careers were away, the fox-faced girl from District Five stole as much food as she could carry from their camp.
After the anthem and the dead tribute slideshow in the sky, I watch Gale sneak back to his and Madge's camp. It's not really much of a camp, I guess- unlike the Careers, they cannot afford to be easily spotted. They have a little sleeping hollow underneath some thick brush, and that's about it.
It's the closest thing he has to a home right now, and I'm so happy to see him return not just safely, but with a weapon and extra food. They're not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot, but there's no denying things are looking up.
I feel like I could drink in the sight of Gale for hours, dirty and battle-worn as he is, but I actually switch off the TV after just a few minutes. His reunion with Madge becomes a bit…heated…and it makes me sick to my stomach. No matter how many times I tell myself nothing matters except his survival, it stings to see them kiss, in a way that feels almost personal.
I guess I'll just try not think about it.
§
I sleep for a few hours and force myself to rise at dawn. Quite frankly, it feels as if I haven't slept at all, but people are counting on me. My tenacity is rewarded with a hearty catch, and I lug it all home to show Prim, only to find that she's not home. There's a note on the table that says one of the miners broke his leg, and they'll be gone for a while. Oh, and also someone else is in my house.
"Do you just show up here whenever you're on lunch break? Is that a thing now?" I ask irritably, although actually I'm pleased to see Peeta. Mostly pleased, at least.
"I brought you bread," he says. "Well, I brought Gale bread, I guess."
He holds up the loaf as if he needs to prove it's real.
"Thanks," I say flatly.
"Are we really going to do this again?"
I have a good idea of what he's talking about, but I think it might be in my best interest to pretend not to. I keep a poker face. "What?"
"You know!" He gestures emphatically and nearly knocks the bread off the table. "Making things complicated."
"You are the one who made things complicated," I accuse, even though I know that's not exactly true.
"That wasn't my intention," he promises, and I believe him. For the first time, I consider that I may have overreacted when I ditched him on my doorstep and stopped speaking to him. "I definitely didn't- I'm not- you're not that easy to work with, you know?"
I pull out a chair and sit next to him. I'm still not interested in a heart-to-heart, but I'm not opposed to talking. In fact, even though it's only been a day since things went off the rails again, I find that I have missed Peeta. "Well, you're not that easy to open up to, you know that?"
"Maybe you're just not very good at it," Peeta retorts. There's a mischievous smile on his face that only shows up every so often. He's such a naturally wholesome person that he's only mischievous or sarcastic once in a while- blink and you'll miss it.
However, he is right.
"I mean…maybe," I concede. This is the closest I will get to admitting I have faults. "But maybe-"
"I'm sorry," he interrupts. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I thought…well, I thought it might be a comfort to you to have someone you could talk to. But I'm guessing you don't feel that way."
"Um…I can see how a person could feel that way." I swallow, knowing that this is the hard part. At least the house is empty aside from the two of us. Apologizing is never easy, but privacy helps. "You are comforting. And I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just didn't and still don't like that somebody knows the most personal thing about me."
"If it makes it any better, I've known for a long time."
"It doesn't." I look down at the table, not at Peeta at all. I don't think he's looking at me either, and that's for the better. "Fresh start?"
"For the second time in three days?"
I wonder if that's a funny way of saying "no". Now I have to look at him. A mistake, maybe- gone is the mischievous smile; all I can see is his bright eyes. They might be the color of a choppy lake, but they hold the intensity of the sun. I wonder if I look the same way to him right now.
He reaches over and shakes the end of my braid, as has been our tradition for years. "Nothing would make me happier."
I muss up his blonde hair right back, and I feel the tension in the room dissipate just from that one small action. He laughs, and everything goes back to normal. One normal thing in a hugely messed-up part of my life. Thank god for Peeta.
"So there was-"
The door opens and Mom and Prim burst in before Peeta can finish his sentence. Prim right away hugs me from behind, almost knocking me off my chair. I'm not sure if there's something special behind it or if it's just her being her happy-go-lucky self. Mother clears her throat. "What have you two been up to?"
I don't really want to let anyone else in on the argue/avoidance/make up cycle we've been in, and fortunately Peeta says something that makes sense. "The sponsorship. I think we should get the whole town involved."
"What?!" I exclaim. "No. That's a terrible idea! This is something that belongs to us."
What I really mean is "to me" but I suppose Prim and Peeta have been helping.
"Why not?" he presses. "You've been running yourself ragged, and even with the rest of us contributing, you're a long way from actually purchasing something. You're not the only one who wants to help Gale and Madge!"
"I know that. But how many people would even have anything to give?" I point out. "Most people can barely feed themselves. We're…"
"Lucky" feels like a weird way to describe a single-parent family that has gone hungry plenty of times, and a teenage baker that gets beaten by his mom, but I say it anyway.
"What about the mayor, people who know Madge?"
"I'm not doing this for Madge!"
"But if you help her, it helps Gale!" Prim cuts in. Of course she would see things Peeta's way. "Besides, isn't that what he'd want? For you to help her too?"
Well, that's annoying.
And probably true.
Maybe I have been looking at this the wrong way. I've locked onto Gale and tried to pretend Madge doesn't matter, but she does. Unfortunately, she does.
I think back to the interviews, when I realized Gale's plan was to protect Madge. I can't ignore that either. Even though I'm indifferent to her (at best), making Madge a part of the sponsorship crusade might be the only way I can really make a difference for Gale.
"Oh, fine," I relent. "But I'm not going door-to-door!"
"Don't worry," says Peeta. "I have a better idea."
Gale and Madge vs Marvel was one of my absolute favorite scenes to write. Not sure why exactly.
Would love it if someone would leave a review! At this point it can be mean idc, just want to know someone's reading this.