"Can we get some sweet tea?" Prim asked me, swinging our linked hands between us. "I love sweet tea."
I smiled at her indulgently. I had enough coins for a few silly purchases today, so, why not? "Sure thing, little duck."
It was July 1st. School had ended, and we were three days out from the reaping. Prim had started to feel nervous about her first reaping and so had I. In fact, I was so worried about her that I'd stopped sleeping at my house altogether to spend the nights in Prim's bedroom. She'd started having nightmares about last years games and seemed convinced that she'd be reaped despite only having one slip in the lottery.
I hoped that today, on the midsummer rally, we would be able to put thoughts of the Hunger Games behind us. Peeta had his wrestling tournament, a few people were singing folk songs for cash, and many of the shops in town had set up booths in the square. There was a festive quality to the day.
Juniper was working the sweet tea booth. Her dad ran the general store, but every year they had the sweet tea and the cider booth for midsummer and harvest respectively. I nodded at her in greeting and handed the money over in exchange for two paper cups.
"I'll see you on the bleachers?" she asked in parting, and I agreed.
Prim waved goodbye and started to tug me towards the musicians. "Come on, let's dance!" she grinned, her pigtail braids bouncing in the air.
I was happy to dance with her. We joined the rest of the line dancers and carried out our practiced moves. Line dancing is easy, especially when you've been doing it your whole life. Prim looked happy, carefree even, as she did the do-si-do with the next partner down the line. I sighed, a bit of the tension I'd been carrying around in my shoulders released. She'd be okay.
"Funny meeting you here," I glanced up into Gale's grinning face. I smiled back. "How's Prim?"
I shrugged, taking a step back and out of the line, Gale followed. "As good as you'd expect."
"So bad?"
I shrugged again. "There's nothing I can really do to fix it, but I try."
Gale nodded, he understood. Rory would be having his first reaping too.
"So, listen." He started suddenly, hands in his pant pockets. I looked up at him, but he was looking down at his boots. "Sorry if I made it weird."
I raised my eyebrows; I wasn't really expecting him to say anything about it at all. "Oh. Thanks."
"Yeah, so." He shrugged. "Anyways, we going to watch Peeta later?"
I nodded, "yeah, it should start in like an hour. I'll meet you at the school?"
He nodded back. "Yeah, I gotta catch up with Levee anyways. See ya!" he turned and jogged away.
I turned my attention back to Prim, and watched as she continued dancing. I started clapping along to the beat of the song, smiling as I watched the pink ribbons in her hair flow with the wind.
"Katniss! Over here!" Prim and I glanced up from where we stood at the gym's doors to see Juniper waving us down from the second bleacher from the front. I raised my hand in acknowledgment and started heading over, Prim at my side.
"Hey. Thanks for saving us a seat." I said settling down beside her. I offered her the small white bakery bag in my hand, "you want some?"
Juniper shook her head, "I'm good."
I shrugged and popped a piece of fried dough in my mouth, handing the rest over to Prim. Mr. Mellark had the great idea of frying up small pieces of dough and tossing them into sugar for the midsummer rally. The only reason we snagged a bag at all was because we're family, they were flying out the bakery's booth at breakneck speed.
Over on the gym floor Peeta's coach stood at the centre of the room with a whistle in his mouth. He was merchant, but he had red hair. One of his biological parents was probably a peacekeeper (which was totally illegal) as red hair was not a District Twelve trait. He blew the whistle a few times to catch the chattering audiences' attention.
My eyes wandered across the front row before me, trying to find Peeta's ashy hair. He was near the far left, hunched over in conversation with a group of other boys, laughing. I caught his eye and waved. His face split into a wider grin at the sight of me. He sat up and returned my wave. His friends looked over, saw me, and started whistling obnoxiously. Peeta's face turned red, but he laughed it off. I rolled my eyes and looked away.
Juniper had her eyes set on the open gym doors. She looked to be eagerly waiting for someone. I raised my eyebrows, but I wasn't the type of person to pry so I turned to the door myself.
"Gale!" I called out when he wandered in with Rory and Vick at his side. His eyes landed on us, and he nodded, heading over.
"Hey Prim, Katniss." He greeted. His eyes landed on Juniper, "Ah, June, right?"
Juniper's eyes briefly left the doors to land on his face. She offered him a downturned smile. "Juniper, actually."
"Right." He nodded and dropped down to sit on Prim's other side.
"Who are we waiting for?" Prim leaned over me to look at Juniper.
"Oh, ah." She blushed, "no one."
Prims eyes landed on mine mischievously. "Say, Katniss. Which of Peeta's friends is missing?"
I frowned. "Bennie?"
Prim rolled her eyes, "No. Someone not on the team." She looked at me meaningfully. I glanced around us.
"Uh, Delly?" I glanced about and saw I was correct. No sign of Cartwright.
Juniper's blush deepened and Prim grinned. "I wonder where she is." My little sister leaned back and away from Juniper.
Juniper dropped her eyes to her hands, her leg fidgeting at my side. She reached up to fiddle with her chin-length blonde hair. I thought that she appeared nervous. I couldn't see why she would be. What was it that Peeta said the other day? Oh.
"You have a crush on Delly Cartwright?" I whispered low much to Juniper's mortification as she immediately shushed me.
Prim laughed at my side. "I'm glad you caught on."
I turned back to the gym floor, feeling like the most clueless person on earth. Coach was stepping back as two boys in the lighter weight class began sparring, all pale skin and red singlets.
"So what? Do they just spin around, or can they punch each other?" Gale asked no one in particular.
"They wrestle." Prim corrected in a superior tone, offering up our bag of fried dough. Gale wrinkled his nose, but Rory took a few.
"When does your boy go on?" He asked already appearing bored.
"He's in the oldest class, they're running through the youngest first," I answered my eyes on the duo who were already struggling on the beat-up wrestling mat.
"How much we bettin'?" Gale waggled his brows. "Make it interesting?"
Prim shook her head. "Peeta's winning for sure."
"How can you be so sure?" He teased. "Huh? Come on let's bet."
"Mellarks own District Twelve wrestling," Prim stated. "So, I would bet all my coins on that."
"Prim, no gambling." I admonished distractedly as the match ended.
"Okay, you're on. Twenty against Mellark." Gale shook her hand.
"Twenty on Mellark." Prim agreed with a nod.
"Gale, Prim come on." I scoffed but was completely ignored.
Coach blew his whistle as the wrestlers moved off-mat and the new match began. I looked away, not particularly interested.
"Grandma, you came!" Juniper said with evident surprise. I turned quickly to the right and saw Peeta's grandmother standing next to us with Hallah and Delly Cartwright at her side.
"Of course, I came." The older woman replied motioning with her cane in our direction. "Help me up, Hallah."
"Sorry I'm late," Delly said apologetically, slipping past Mrs. Mellark and shimming past Rory, Vick, and Gale. "Hi girls."
"Delly, you can sit here." Juniper hurriedly scooted to the side creating space between us. Delly smiled gratefully and sat down. I exchanged a look with Prim.
"Gale, make space for Mrs. Mellark." I hissed; yanking Prim closer to me.
With Hallah's aid, Mrs. Mellark sat at Prims side. Her daughter sat between her and Gale. Being the tallest among us, Gale was able to shoot me a look over both their heads, I shrugged, he'd just have to deal with merchants.
"Katniss, Primrose." Mrs. Mellark greeted us politely.
"Mrs. Mellark," I replied as Prim nodded with a smile.
"Did I miss anything?" Delly asked. "Did Davey go already?"
I shook my head. Her brother hadn't gotten up from the bleachers yet. "He's over there." I pointed him out for her.
"Oh, good." She sighed. "I can't believe he made it to the finals in the first place."
The boys on the mat were good wrestlers, so they struggled for a bit before the victor successfully pinned the other, but in no way was the match long. Although I'd been to wrestling meets before and somewhat understood the sport, I still found it uninteresting when I didn't know either of the wrestlers.
Eventually, Davey did go on. Delly sat up in anticipation, snapping up my hand and Junipers as well. She watched with bated breath as her brother performed well, at least I thought he was doing great, based on the many afternoons I'd spent watching Peeta and Rye circle each other in their living room.
When Davey hit the mat for the first time Delly started shouting, heckling Davey's opponent with an impressive vocabulary. I saw Prim blush and laugh at my side.
They struggled for longer than any of the kids beforehand, the match ending when Davey's opponent snatched his ankles out from under him, lunging across his back and holding him down until Coach blew the whistle. Delly huffed and let go of me, her shoulders slumping downwards.
"Well," she glanced at me with a shrug. "Maybe next year."
After another couple of matches, a victor for the first periods crop was announced. We all clapped politely.
"How long is this going to take." Gale whined causing Mrs. Mellark to briefly glare at him. Gale's eyes met mine in response and I smiled.
"Peeta isn't on until the last period," I replied. "There's another group before his group even goes."
"Then the winners go against each other, and then it ends." Prim finished.
The next period came and went without much happening to catch my attention. One of the matches was briefly interrupted when one boy accidentally kneed the other in the mouth, causing him to spit out blood. District Twelve wrestlers didn't use any protective gear, so coach stopped the match for a moment to make sure the boy hadn't lost any teeth. They went back to it once the boy had rinsed his mouth out with some water.
"He's tough," Delly commented at my side. I nodded.
Finally, it was Peeta's turn. Delly, Juniper, Prim, and I cheered loudly. Peeta's grandmother clapped with a genuine smile. Peeta briefly waved at us in embarrassment.
The first match was easy for him, I could tell. He took the other boy down immediately. Delly hooted in delight.
"Get ready to pay me, Hawthorne." Prim teased with a smirk. Gale rolled his eyes.
"Don't get too cocky, kiddo." He smirked in return.
The next match was fun to watch. Peeta and the other boy circled each other, heads close together, their lips moving as if they were mocking the other, but we couldn't hear anything ourselves. At some point whatever Peeta said got to the other boy, because he lunged at him with real anger on his face. The match ended quickly after that. Never wrestle angry, you'll lose.
He went on like this, none of his matches ever running for too long. He snatched out ankles from under his opponents, knocked out supporting elbows when they struggled on the ground, and locked heads in place with his knees. His unbroken streak of easy wins was causing an electric excitement to spread across the bleachers. Soon enough, people created a beat with their feet to the chant of his name.
"Better have that money ready, Gale." Prim gloated.
Gale shook his head with a laugh.
Coach blew his whistle and declared Peeta the winner of his age class. They were down to the final three.
Delly held my hand tightly as we watched with bated breath as the other two boys wrestled it out. It was a good match, although coach interfered at one point to stop them from using too much 'hand-to-face.' Coach blew his whistle, the boy who'd wrestled despite being kneed in the mouth earlier won.
"You can do it, Peeta!" Delly shouted as he walked onto the mat. He smiled sheepishly and offered her a thumbs up.
"He's been wanting to win our entire lives," Delly whispered to me. "This is huge."
The match ran long. The other boy was tough. At one point, it seemed like there was no way Peeta could get the upper hand as the other boy held him down with his arms twisted into some sort of wrestlers hold. Delly squeezed my own arms painfully screaming at Peeta to get up!
With a lot of effort Peeta did just that. Standing on slightly shaky legs he flipped his opponent off his back, slamming him to the ground. The crowd screamed in surprised delight as Peeta held the boy down securely. The crowd erupted with cheers.
Coach blew his whistle as Peeta pulled himself back into standing. His face was flushed red, his hair darkened by sweat, and his chest rising and falling with his panted breaths. Coach grabbed his hand and pulled it upwards above their heads, announcing him the tournaments victor. Instantly Peeta's lips pulled up into a grin, his face radiant with accomplishment.
I stood up, pulling Prim along with me as we clapped and shouted, just as everyone else was doing. Delly stood at my side and started chanting Peeta's name with her hands cupped around her lips. Below us, Peeta started to look embarrassed and laughed incredulously, his face turning redder by the minute.
I climbed down the bleachers to seek him out, wedging myself between and past the people sitting in front of me. He and coach were swarmed by the team as they came forward to express their congratulations. It took me some time to reach him because I stood shorter than most of the guys between us. Once I began elbowing my way past them though, they recognized me as Peeta's wife, parting slightly to let me through.
"Pee-ta, Pee-ta" a few of the guys were chanting. He got slapped on the shoulders and his curly hair was ruffled repeatedly. He was laughing when his eyes landed on me.
"There she is!" He called out, yanking me into a sweaty hug. "I won!"
"You did," I smiled, feeling slightly claustrophobic due to the mass of teenage bodies surrounding us. Peeta pulled himself somewhat away from me but kept me pressed to his side.
The crowd started to thin after we were jostled thoroughly by their congratulations. As the boys started to let up, I could see Delly, Juniper, Prim, and the others waiting at the edge of the crowd. I waved at them, trying to pull Peeta over towards them. He easily followed.
"Congratulations!" Delly squealed and threw herself into his only free arm, hugging him enthusiastically. Peeta let go of me briefly to give her a proper hug in return.
"I did it!" Peeta agreed, and they laughed together with childish disbelief. Delly pulled back to press a sisterly kiss to his cheek.
"I'm going to get Davey," she announced, still grinning. "He's probably feeling sorry for himself somewhere. Meet you at the doors?"
He nodded and she ran off. He barely had any time to turn back towards us before Prim jumped into his arms.
"That was awesome!" she exclaimed, her legs completely off the ground. "You flipped him!"
He was twirling her around when his grandmother stepped forward, the tapping of her cane alerted us to her presence as she came up behind Juniper.
"Nana, you came." Said Peeta as he lowered Prim back to her feet.
"Of course, I did." Mrs. Mellark senior taped her cane with finality. "Congratulations son."
He nodded in return.
"Katniss." She inclined her head towards me politely and I understood this would be the closest she would come to an apology.
"Mrs. Mellark," I replied.
"I—uh." Peeta turned to look at me. "Let's go?"
I nodded. "Go put some clothes on," I encouraged accepting his parting kiss before pushing him away.
I turned back to Prim, "Gale?" I asked. He nor his brother were anywhere in sight.
Prim held up a handful of coins. "He's a sore loser." She smirked. I shook my head with a smile of my own.
We were waiting for Peeta by the doorway. Peeta's grandmother and Hallah stood off to the side, waiting to accompany us as well.
I had just caught sight of Peeta jogging towards us while pulling on a t-shirt over his red singlet, his wrestling sweatpants riding low on his hips, when the entire building shook from a sudden impact.
"Wha—" someone was saying when a second, closer explosion shook the building again, shaking loose bits of drywall and ceiling tiles all around us.
"Wow," Peeta was at my side by then, attempting to shield Prim and I with his taller frame. "What's going on?"
A sense of fear spread about the room, palpable and dangerous. The explosions continued, and with them, a hysterical crowd formed pushing us out the gymnasium doors and forwards, towards the schools exit.
I held on to Prim as Peeta held onto me. I saw Delly, Davey and Peeta's grandmother around us, but Hallah was lost in the crowd. The doors were pushed open, tossing us out onto the street.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
There had to be thousands of them. Men and women, primarily miners, but there were merchants there as well. They were… starting fires, yelling, destroying Capitol infrastructure or imagery, they were… they were…
My god, this was an uprising.
"Nana!" Peeta cried out, his arms shooting out to grab the older woman before she was trampled. He pulled her into the safety of his embrace while keeping close to Prim and I.
I tried to keep control of my breathing, but my rising panic was clawing at the inside of my throat. Behind Peeta's head a man lit a piece of fabric on fire. It took me a second too long to comprehend why he would do that, when I noticed the glass bottle it was sticking out of. White liquor.
"Watch out!" I yelled, pushing Peeta and his grandmother out of the way while keeping Prim pulled tight against me. The bottle exploded into a shower of flames against the side of a building, engulfing it in flames.
District Twelve is covered in flammable coal dust.
I gripped Prim's arm tightly and yanked her after me. Peeta pulled his grandmother onto his back and started to push his way into the street and away from the school. I followed on his heels. I lost sight of Delly and Davey in the crowd, but I couldn't afford to think about that. I needed to get Prim off the streets.
The bakery was closest to the school. I could even see the back of the roof. The weather-beaten shingles suddenly beautiful to my eyes with their promise of safety.
To our left, I saw a wall of white. I panicked, and shouted Peeta's name to warn him, yanking him by the elbow into an alley as armed peacekeepers marched into the street, rifles drawn. We tried to flatten ourselves against the walls to become invisible. My heart beat a rapid tune in my throat. Almost immediately, the sound of gunfire filled our ears.
"What do we do?" Peeta asked me, breathing hard under his grandmother's weight.
I looked down the opposite end of the alley. Dead end.
I looked at Prim. She clutched my shirt with a tight fist and pressed herself against me. Her other hand gripped mine tightly. I gulped.
The peacekeepers had already walked past us. We could try to head back the way we came and risk finding a different path, taking us further away from the bakery. Alternatively, we could follow them and hope to make it before we were shot. I didn't think we could risk going to our house, as it was even further still.
I swallowed. We needed to get to safety. There was no guarantee that another wave of peacekeepers wasn't coming. What if we ran right into them?
"Let's keep going," I decided. "We're almost there, we'll make it."
Peeta nodded, adjusting his grip on his grandmother before he headed out first. I followed along closely.
Insurgents were openly fighting the peacekeepers, barehanded and determined. Fires had broken out. I saw miners and merchants alike wielding burning hunks of wood and lobing rocks only to be shot down and trampled by military boots.
The bakery was a mere twenty paces away. We started running. Almost there.
Suddenly, the bakery door slammed open, expelling Mr. Mellark. He was shouting to get in now, shielding us with his body, his arms open wide. Peeta had made it to the stoop, and I shifted Prim in front of me, trying to protect her. We were almost there.
He didn't make any sound, but his shouting cut off, like turning off the radio. Peeta managed to step halfway into the bakery as I turned back to look. Instinctively I shoved Prim forward, barreling into Peeta in hopes that he wouldn't look, wouldn't stop, but he did. He released his grip on his grandmother's forearms, dropping her to her feet and swept Prim behind him into the dark bakery, pulling me forward and past him in one smooth move as he barreled out the door.
"Dad!" Peeta screamed, running towards the man as one, two, three, four bullets pieced his abdomen, shaking his body as if he weighed nothing at all. Behind Mr. Mellark the peacekeeper, face covered by their helmet, had paused to reload their weapon.
Peeta gripped his father by the collar and dragged him towards the open door, yanking him up the stoop before Mr. Mellark had time to attempt to move his own feet.
I slammed the door shut behind them. Rye rushed forward, pushing the wooded countertop against the door, and yanked Prim and I into the kitchen by the forearm. Peeta and Bannock carried Mr. Mellark into the back, pulling him up onto the table.
"We can't stay here," I insisted, thinking of how thin the walls were. "The basement."
"We need Mrs. Lightwood," Bannock said, pressing the white aprons he'd ripped off the wall against his father's abdomen, but it did little to slow the bleeding.
"I'll do it," I said immediately. I was the quickest. I could run there and back in a second.
"Katniss, no." But I was already out the door. "Katniss!" Peeta screamed after me.
I jumped over the fence and onto the backstreet. There were people running down these streets too. I tried my best to push past them, but they were as panicked as a herd of bison. I managed to hold my footing before I was trampled and forced my way out of the crowd, falling against the bakery's fence.
I kept myself flat against the fence and tried to walk towards the apothecary, avoiding the crowd as much as possible. I ran across the alley that divided both shops and jumped over my grandmother's fence, scrambling to the back door which would not open regardless of how many times I slammed my shoulder against it.
"Grandma, it's me!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Grandma!"
I heard a table's legs dragging across the floor before the backdoor flew open. Grandmother attempted to pull me into the shop, but I pushed her arms away. There was no time.
"Mr. Mellark was shot!" I shouted over the noise that surrounded us. "Come quick!"
Getting back into the bakery was easier. I boosted her over the fence and ran with her across the alleyway, pushing her over the next fence as well. The door flew open before we had time to touch it.
"In. Now!" Peeta shouted, pulling us in and slamming the door.
"Where?" Grandmother asked, breathless.
"Basement." Peeta replied. His arms and shirt were covered in blood, but Mr. Mellark wasn't on the table anymore. The kitchen was entirely deserted. "Katniss, help me block the door."
I nodded. Grandmother pulled open the basement's door and disappeared down the stairs. Peeta and I each took a side of the worktable and placed it on its side against the door, Mr. Mellarks blood ran down the side and pooled on the floor.
"Help me with the bags," he said, nodding towards some opened and unopened bags of flour which rested on the ground by the door. I dragged a bag towards the table while he lifted one after the other into his arms, dropping them against the table. It's the best we could do with what he had.
The gunfire outside showed no signs of lessening. Some of the front windows had already been shattered by stray bullets. It was only a matter of time until one hit us.
"Peeta!" I shouted. He appeared to be engrossed in his task, throwing bags, and a few stools against the table. "Peeta, we need to go to the basement."
My words jolted him. He met my gaze with a nod. I gripped his hand and pulled him down the stairs with me, the blood on his hand smearing between my fingers.
The basement was dark, dank, and sparsely filled with repurposed Capitol shipment crates. There was a single rickety table and chair in the middle of the room. I knew, as one is Peeta's confidants, that throughout their childhoods the Mellark boys were frequently locked in the basement to "think about their actions" at that very table, despite the routine beatings, and frequent denial of meals (this was, of course, not his exact wording). I glared into empty space.
Someone had placed Mr. Mellark on the table. My grandmother and sister hovered around him. I met Prim's eye, wanting to know the status of Mr. Mellarks health. The look she gave me in return was grave.
"Come on, Peeta." I said in a much gentler tone than I'd ever used with him. "Sit with me?"
He let himself be easily tugged along. I pulled him into a non-populated corner, pushing on his shoulders to get him to sit down on a box. He looked lost, sitting there in his wrestling sweatpants and bloodstained t-shirt. I squeezed in next to him.
"Do you think…" He cleared his throat. "Is he gone?"
I picked up his red hand and pressed myself against his arm, "I'm so sorry." I whispered.
He let out a shuddering breath and squeezed my hand tighter. He didn't say anything else.
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