28At first, all that he could fathom were sensations. The gentle lapping of waves against his feet. The buzzing of insect wings as they fluttered around his face. The saline air that was so sultry and dense that he could barely catch his breath. He blinked away the searing white lights that danced and pulsed in his vision as he lifted his head. The first thing that he noticed was the small metal disk beneath his boots that crowned a towering podium. As he tilted his neck even further, a tropical landscape of golden sands and lush green treetops suffused his vision. The expanse of foliage in the distance seemed to be so lush that even from afar he could see the swaying coconuts and the brightly coloured birds which teemed around the leaves. And if he squinted, he could see the swishing of curly brown tails and the blinking of bright yellow eyes that peeked out from between the shrubbery.
Everything was wet, so very wet. Even his skin was pebbled with dewy droplets of moisture and meandering trails of sweat. He looked up to the sky above him, which was streaked with a florists bouquet of dusky pinks, vibrant corals and gentle lavenders that made him ache for the feel of his paintbrush between his fingers. The bright skyline melted down into pale sand. The pale sand melted down into glistening waters. The glistening waters crashed and roiled against his feet.
His ears pricked up as a muffled clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. The birdsong ceased. The branches flailed. The dragonflies scattered. Even the podium beneath him seemed to tremble in fear. All at once the serenity of the landscape was obliterated in favour of an unforgiving callousness. A collective gulp seemed to resound from behind the tree line. He knew that he was in trouble from the crippling anxiety that tied his stomach into knots. The careening waves seemed to be so dark and unrelenting as they writhed against his podium and sent sharp flurries of water against his skin like tiny shards of glass. He flinched and gasped into the misty air as he noticed the enormous silver structure that stood tall and impenetrable within the heart of the waves. He wasn't quite sure how he hadn't noticed it before. Its towering walls carved sharp, angular silhouettes into the skyline that just a few moments ago he had been so ardently admiring. The burning orange sunlight glinted against the smoothened walls of the construction and illuminated the sharpened steel blades of the daggers and knifes that were safely concealed inside. A fissure of terror ripped down his spine. Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. Understanding surged through his bones and he knew exactly what he had to do. As the deep waves darkened, his thoughts became clearer and his resolve became stronger. And it all happened so quickly. He could hear the deafening countdown of the bombs in his ears. He could feel the rubbery wetsuit which was tight and constricting against his skin. He could see the circle of people who stood amongst him upon their own platforms of silver and black. He could sense their dread and their anger that was just as bitter as the salty air that lingered around them. But most importantly, he could locate her dark braid across the tide that dared to separate them. She was a lot skinnier than he had ever seen her before, her cheeks hollowed and her ribs protruding. A flash of images, each as fleeting and brief as the last rocketed through his mind like a picture show. A burnt loaf of bread, a vial of sleep syrup, a handful of berries. He wasn't entirely sure what they meant, only that each of them worked to link his survival so intrinsically with hers. He knew without a doubt that he had to protect her. Because that's what they did, her words echoed throughout his head. But as his counterparts dived into the water and cut through the waves, he was powerless to move. His flimsy boots felt as though they had been filled with cement and his floundering limbs were locked into place. He could feel the bile rising up into his throat as he watched the girl with the braid negotiate the waters and hoist herself up onto the land which surrounded the shimmering cornucopia. He watched in awe as she sprinted across the rocky land and grabbed a bow and a sheath of arrows from the extensive bounty of weapons. She was dark, she was dangerous, she was an avenging angel that pounded across the land. But his heart stuttered inside of his chest when the sharp, metallic prongs of a trident were poised in her direction from across the pile of armaments. But whilst the girl with the braid was locked in a deadly standoff with her bronze haired opponent, she didn't notice the muscular body which emerged from the jagged coast of rocks that bordered the land. But he did. And his eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he noticed the hilt of the knife that was clamped between the teeth of the ginormous man with dark blonde hair. The blade glistened with gelatinous blood as rich and as red as a trove of rubies. He watched in horror as the man grinned and extracted the knife from his lips before aiming his weapon in the direction of the girl with the braid. No! He wanted to scream. Look behind you! He tried to shout as the knife rippled through the air. But he couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything but watch in his sickening state of paralysis. He tried to scream her name.
Katniss!
Katniss!
"Katniss" he whimpered into the darkness. Peeta bolted upright and thrashed against the sheets that had coiled around his limbs. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand as he glanced around his bedroom. His jeans were still dumped on his desk chair where he had left them the night before. His various football posters were still tacked to the dark blue walls. His slickened torso was still shirtless and free from the confines of any sort of wetsuit. There was no water, no blood, and definitely no Katniss. But his heart still pounded inside of his chest. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and shoved his fingers beneath his dampened pillow in search of his phone.
4:38AM.
Three fruitless rounds of Candy Crush later and he threw the duvet back from his body in frustration before grabbing his robe from the back of the door. Thin streaks of lamplight filtered in from the street outside and illuminated his path as he padded across the landing. The loud ticking of the grandfather clock down the hall chimed in perfect synchronisation with each of his heavy footfalls. The familiar walls were lined with the posed family photographs and the oversized wrestling trophies that his mother polished to precision. It was the combination of each of these sights and sounds that began to convince him that it really was just a dream. As he reached the bathroom door, he wondered why the dream had seemed so real, why the landscape had seemed so familiar. He had never been a stranger to the occasional bad dream before. But if he had a nightmare, they were usually to the script of being chased down an alleyway or having someone yank down his underpants in public or something. But within the last few days something had changed. He had been dreaming so vividly about fiery flames licking his skin, about fantastical parties where Katniss waltzed in feathered gowns and about long handled swords that were being plunged into his leg. But none of them had been as intense as this one. Peeta shook his head as he peeled down his pyjama bottoms and stumbled into the shower. He was exhausted, overwrought, and slightly pissed at his overactive imagination. He really needed to ease up on watching those action adventure movies before he went to bed.
Today is going to be a long day, he thought with a sigh.
When he parked up at school later that morning, Peeta couldn't help but chuckle at the herds of students that had gathered outside to savour their last moments of freedom. The chattering pupils lounged over the sizzling bonnets of their cars and sprawled out across the sun-drenched patches of grass which covered the quad. He watched as the basketball players wiped the sweat from their foreheads with their jerseys and the cheerleaders as they rolled up their tank tops to tie into knots around their stomachs. He could hardly blame them. Panem was just starting to experience its first heat wave of the year. The blue haired weather presenter on Panem Today had even predicted that they were about to encounter one of the hottest summers on record.
Peeta welcomed the cool bursts of air conditioning that washed over his heated skin as he stepped beneath the large arched entryway. His white sneakers squeaked against the vinyl flooring as he looked around at the garish ensemble of posters that had been taped to the walls overnight. The traditional school colours of red, white and blue were almost completely concealed by the large rectangles of laminated card. The bright pink fliers poked out the vents of lockers and were plastered against the doors of classrooms and utility closets alike. His school never went into things half-heartedly, that was for sure.
He returned the greetings of the guys from the wrestling team as they nodded their heads at him in recognition and rolled his eyes with equal showmanship at the girls who leaned against their lockers and fluttered their eyelashes in his direction. He could only imagine that their tight halter neck tops and short bodycon skirts were in honour of both the soaring temperatures and the upcoming Summer Ball. As he reached his locker he realised with a sigh that both had the power to turn a girl completely crazy. Well, most girls. He highly doubted that Katniss Everdeen went gaga over tiaras, limousines and corsages. After he grabbed his books, Peeta scrutinized the various stacks of permission slips and fliers which sat amongst the other piles of junk in his locker. A frown crossed over his face when he came across an official looking padded envelope that was addressed to his parents. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he searched for the coiffed grey hair or the ugly kitten heels that were both symbolic of Miss Coin before he tossed the letter into a nearby trash can. As he continued through his correspondents, he was less than surprised to find one of the glitter embossed invitations to the schools Summer Ball placed delicately beside a rather nasty looking banana skin. He grumbled in annoyance as he pinched the elaborate card between his thumb and forefinger. Because one glance at the dark fuchsia borders and the fancy gold calligraphy was all that needed to decipher who had designed these invitations.
Glimmer.
Peeta thought back to Friday night and how the blonde had thrown herself at him in those barely there hotpants. He thought back to how he had slithered his hands beneath the silky top that had strained against her chest. He cringed as he remembered how she had giggled when his fingertips had brushed against the lacy underwire of her bra. And he vaguely remembered her grinding her hips against him as she begged him to take her upstairs. But he also recalled pushing her drunken body away from him as he bolted for the door. As the obscure assortment of memories came hurtling back into his mind, Peeta let his forehead slump miserably against the door of his locker. If passing out in Katniss' yard wasn't affirmation enough of his intoxication that night, his rendezvous with Glimmer most definitely was. Glimmer was way too much high maintenance. She was clingy, she was conceited, and she was trouble. He couldn't deny that she was attractive, because she most certifiably was. And you only had to listen to Cato Roberts banging on about her massive rack to realise that everybody else thought it too. But nobody seemed to know it more than she did herself. She strutted and sashayed her way around town like she was some kind of high-end underwear model or something. But without the guise of her expensive makeup, she could only be likened to Voldemort with a weave.
Okay, that was a little harsh.
Admittedly, he had slept with her a couple of times. But they had mostly just fooled around whenever he was drunk. Which he was ashamed to admit was most of the time these days. Only on the weekends of course, he wasn't a complete mess. But after the influx of calls, texts and Facebook comments that he had received from Glimmer since Friday, he'd been avoiding her like the plague.
Yeah, he could fuck her again. He could close his eyes and imagine that the long legs wrapped around him were actually a petite set of olive toned limbs. He could imagine that the face contorting with pleasure beneath him was actually the canvas to a steely pair of grey eyes.
"Get a grip, Mellark" he mumbled to himself as he pushed the salacious thoughts of Katniss away from his mind. He gathered up his gym bag and let it swing by his side as he began the walk towards his first class. His glanced back around him and tried to blend in with a large group of third years behind him as he discreetly adjusted the crotch of his shorts.
"HEADS UP!" a deep, male voice roared from down the hallway. Peeta turned just in time to recognise the flash of tousled bronze hair that charged towards him before he was tackled down to the ground.
"Mellark! Odair! Get up off the floor and make your way to my office. Now!"
Yep, it was definitely going to be a very, very long day he thought to himself as he peeled his face from the ground and shoved Finnick off of his back.
Peeta tapped his foot impatiently against the chequered linoleum flooring of the cafeteria. He rolled up the sleeves of his plaid shirt just for something to do with his restless hands. He wound his fingers around the threads which hung loose from the navy blue flannel and pulled them free with a sigh. He grabbed fistfuls of his soft blonde hair and cursed his very existence.
Why did I leave her that stupid note?
He was almost positive that he never been so worked up over anything in his life, never mind a girl. But he felt his cock twitch inside his jeans in protest as memories of the girl in question flittered forth into his mind. He didn't even know what had possessed him to leave her that suggestive little note the day before. He had regretted it from the moment that he had pulled his fingers free from the dark green folds of her rucksack. And he'd spent about half of their English class afterwards trying to fish it back out with his ruler and a bent paperclip.
Does she think I'm a creep? Will she even show? Maybe she never even saw it. He agonised as he pulled out a plastic container from his gym bag and dropped it onto the table with a thump. He decided in that moment to claim that the container full of muffins, pastries and cookies were simply leftovers from his father's bakery in town that would have been thrown out otherwise. Peeta felt his body flush with heat at just the thought of telling Katniss that he had actually baked them himself. He was mortified at the idea of her ever knowing that he had made such a vast variety of sweets just so that he could find out which ones were her favourites.
Pull yourself together, man!
He grabbed two bottles of sparkling water from his bag and waited. He paused for a moment as he stopped to fiddle with the strap of the simple sports watch that he had decided to wear in favour of his much flashier silver model. He looked at the display of baked goods in front of him and briefly wondered if he had done too much. He didn't want to look too eager and scare her away. He knew for a fact that most of the other girls in their year would have eaten this shit up—literally. Their mascaraed eyes would have probably burst into love hearts like they were some kind of besotted cartoon character. But Katniss Everdeen was most definitely not most girls. Her eyes weren't constantly squinting at her smartphone and her lips weren't constantly smothered in gunky looking lip gloss. In fact, Katniss barely wore any makeup at all. She didn't need it. Peeta toyed with the plastic lid of his water bottle as he glanced around the pillar in front of him. Glimmer and her designer handbag wielding cronies hadn't arrived yet and the cafeteria was unusually quiet without their squealing. He did spot his football buddies tucking into their chilli and nachos across the hall though. He couldn't help but grimace at the sight of Cato's beet red face as he shoved heaped forkfuls into his mouth, completely unaware of brownish red sauce that dribbled down his chin. The brutish guy may have been a beast in defence, but he quite clearly could not eat a meal without spilling half of it down his face. Peeta chuckled to himself as he saw a disgusted looking Finnick throw a thick wad of paper napkins at the bulky blonde. Peeta had gym class with them next period, and judging by the dicey looking servings of slop on their plates it was going to one foul smelling changing room afterwards. Peeta repressed a shudder as his gaze left his friends, roved over the table of the debate team and towards the lunch line. But the long dark braid that he was searching for was nowhere in sight. He wondered what the holdup was. Was she sick? He briefly fretted over the state of the cheese buns that he had served her yesterday.
"Hey" rasped a gentle, hesitant voice from behind him.
Peeta whirled around in his seat so fast that his head spun. And much to his delight, he was met with the curious silver eyes and the smooth honeyed skin that had been driving him crazy all night. Her hand was hovering uselessly in the air between them as though he had just caught her in the middle of deciding whether to tap him on the shoulder or not.
How did she creep up on me like that? He thought with a slight shake of his head.
Katniss fiddled with the silky end of her braid as she looked back towards him with uncertainty etched across her face. Peeta on the other hand, almost had to wipe his chin to make sure that he wasn't drooling. His eyes widened at the sight of the charcoal grey tank top that hugged her curves and only seemed to intensify the smoky hue of her eyes. But what really caught his interest was the pair of white cotton shorts that hung from her hips and showcased her tanned, slender thighs. He watched her wordlessly as she licked her lips in thought before finally taking a seat opposite him. He really did try his hardest not to stare at the pink tip of her tongue as it grazed over the soft, swollen flesh of her lips. But resistance was futile. Peeta cleared his throat awkwardly as he realised that he had yet to manage a single word.
"What's all this?" Katniss asked as she picked up the unopened bottle of water next to his own and used it to point at the plastic container in front of him.
His tongue felt heavy inside of his mouth as he tried to articulate a response. He was certain that he had never been so tongue tied in all of his life. In fact, he had often prided himself as being some kind of virtuoso with words. He was silver tongued, as Finnick had often told him. But he supposed it didn't help that every inappropriate fantasy that he had had about Katniss in the past twenty-four hours seemed to be playing on a loop inside his head.
"Oh, um. For you" he sputtered clumsily as he prised open the lid. He felt like some kind of inarticulate caveman. Katniss looked back at him in surprise as he extended his hand and offered her a white chocolate chip cookie from the top of the pile.
"Thanks. But, did you make these with your eyes closed?" she asked as she inspected the golden biscuit with a mischievous grin.
Peeta felt his brow furrow in confusion. He took a large gulp of his raspberry flavoured water to help quench the desert that seemed to have formed inside of his mouth. But as he swallowed the bubbly liquid he remembered the overconfident claims that he had made about his aptitude for baking the day before. He couldn't help but cringe as a flush of embarrassment warmed his cheeks. At least she hadn't mentioned the part of the conversation when he inadvertently called himself a pussy.
"Nah, fraid not" he finally replied with a playful shrug of his shoulders.
"Oh. Well how about with your hands tied behind your back?" she continued to tease as she narrowed her eyes in his direction and took her first bite.
Before he could offer a reply, a guttural moan of satisfaction issued forth past her lips.
"Mmm, Peeta. This is really goddamn good" she enthused around her bite.
Peeta shuffled in his seat, painfully aware of the hardness that was forming in his pants.
"I think I may have underestimated you" she added as she hummed in appreciation.
Peeta offered her a weak smile as he tried his best to placate the erection that was straining against his shorts in response to her small sighs of approval. He tried to conjure up the memory of the time when he had walked in on his Dad in the shower to gross himself out and effectively calm himself down. But his thumb seemed to be twitching in its desire to reach across the table and wipe the errant crumbs from the creases beside her lips.
Or maybe he could wipe them away with his lips, or his tongue. Damn.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the irritated stomps of the purple Doc Marten boots that stampeded their way over towards their table.
"Hey brainless, can you stop drooling over Blondie and get the hell up? It's Tuesday. We have to get to Archery Club, or did you forget?" snapped the acidic voice that broke into their conversation. Or lack of conversation on his part. The sharp intonation of the words seemed to drown out just about every one of his own that he could possibly have uttered. He realised that the words probably would have only caught in his throat anyway.
Peeta looked up in surprise, his hackles raised. But the menacing glare that was being cast in his direction made him wish that he hadn't.
Johanna Mason.
Johanna Mason was someone that you most definitely did not want to mess with. The simpering teenager must have been at least a foot shorter than him, but she still scared the living daylights out of Peeta. He'd never forgotten the rumours a couple of years back that claimed she had threatened a guy with an axe when he tried to grab her ass. Peeta wasn't quite sure himself whether or not the rumours were true. He knew from experience that half of the stories that were passed around on notes and whispered between ears in this small town were based on lies. But he had to admit, Johanna certainly looked capable. At a first glance, she might have looked waif-like and rather unassuming in appearance. She had a small upturned nose and large brown eyes that could almost be described as delicate. But that's as far as it went. If you looked closer you'd note the dark lashings of kohl that rimmed her eyes and the severe looking piercings that twinkled across her pale skin. Her black hair was cut into a short, angular bob and streaked with a vibrant shock of blood red. It was fair to say that the teachers at their school had long since given up trying to reprimand her with copies of the uniform policy. And whilst he found Katniss' scowl nothing short of a turn on, Johanna's made him shrink back down into his seat.
"What are you looking at, Blondie?" Johanna spat in his direction. His mouth dropped open in shock as he looked back over towards an apologetic looking Katniss.
"Nothing" he coughed as he looked back down towards the rubber soles of his sneakers.
"You can be such a bitch sometimes, you know that?" Katniss growled in Johanna's general direction.
"Whatever, Brainless. Come on" she replied irritably as she popped a stick of gum into her mouth and twiddled with her lip ring.
"Sorry, Peeta… I have to go. But I guess I'll see you around" Katniss said as she gathered up her bag and denim jacket—an item that he had never even noticed until now—from beneath the table. But before she stood to leave, she unzipped one of the small pockets at the front of her rucksack and grabbed a crumpled piece of notepaper from inside. As she unfolded it, Peeta regarded the scruffy looking writing which filled the square with mild interest before it was pushed gingerly in his direction. His brows furrowed as he looked down to the small line of script that had been scrawled between two of the lines.
katnisseverdeen12
"That's the email address for my District Chat account. Maybe you can add me and we can sort out that studying stuff you wanted to do" she muttered. She cleared her throat uncomfortably as she grabbed a wispy piece of hair that had escaped from her braid and curled it back behind her ear.
Peeta could only stare at the rumpled paper, completely dumbstruck.
"Well, um. Bye" she added awkwardly as she got to her feet. He didn't miss the way that she frowned at her friend whose expression was both incredulous and notably disgusted.
"Bye" he replied, his mouth agape.
As a determined looking Johanna dragged her away from the cafeteria, he overheard the cut-throat comments that she snarled towards Katniss through gritted teeth.
"What are you doing hanging around with him?"
"He's a fucking douchebag, I hope you know!"
But Peeta couldn't help but grin. Especially when Katniss turned back towards him as she rounded the corner to leave and rolled her eyes in his direction.
It isn't her phone number, but it's a start he thought as he folded the paper up neatly and placed it into the front pocket of his shirt.
Peeta stepped out from beneath the steaming hot spray of water and reached for his various bottles of shampoo and body wash as he shut off the shower. He grabbed his towel and ran the soft blue cotton through his hair before wrapping it around his waist and padding back across the slick white tiles. He could hear Finnick's bellowing laughter echoing off the walls as he strolled down the short corridor and into the raucous commotion of the changing room.
"Hey, Mellark! Are you coming on Friday?" yelled Cato.
"Why, what's happening?" Peeta asked as he snatched up his deodorant from his gym bag and gave the canister a shake.
"Clove's having a barbecue, her Dad's away on business or some shit. So while the parents are away, the Cato can play" he leered as he nodded his head and thrust his hips around like some kind of deranged zoo animal.
Peeta's thoughts instantly went to Katniss, as they so often did nowadays. If he wasn't fantasying about wrapping her dark hair around his fist and exploring the soft planes of her neck with his lips, he was agonizing over the question that had been bouncing around in his head all week. The seven words that he just couldn't manage to spit out already were practically imprinted into his brain in flashing neon letters.
Can I see you again on Saturday?
He wasn't so enamoured that the idea of filthy toilet bowls and sticky table tops thrilled him anymore than they had last weekend. But he did crave the easy rapport, the playful banter and the contagious smiles that came significantly more freely in the seclusion of the ramshackle bar. He would happily suffer through the stale aroma, the filth encrusted plates, the dirty ashtrays and a whole lot more as long as he could see her again. And he categorically did not want to be sporting the booze breath nor the debilitating hangover this time either. He had humiliated himself enough last time.
Besides, Clove Dyer was one of Glimmer's best friends. The petite brunette was as much of an accessory to the snooty blonde as were her quilted purses and rose gold bracelets. He needed the beady eyed glares across the griddle from Clove just about as much as he needed Glimmer draped over him all evening long. Which on reflection, was about the equivalent to how much he needed a gaping hole in the head. Clove was petty, mean and alarmingly similar to his mother with her calculating frowns and snide remarks. No wonder my mother constantly seems to badger me about asking her out on a date he thought with a sigh. His mother's shrill cries about a respectable family briefly filled his ears for the millionth time and made him shudder. The idea of this barbecue was sounding less and less appealing as the minutes wore on.
"I'm not sure, man" he finally replied as he pulled his white tee back over his head. His buddy Thresh gave him a sympathetic smile from across the changing room which he returned with a sarcastic raise of his eyebrows. Peeta pulled his flannel over his shoulders and reached for his iPhone as he blocked out the rest of Cato's words. He slid his finger across the screen and skimmed through his notifications as the rest of his friends started making plans and calling dibs. He scanned down the list to see that three missed calls from Glimmer, one text message from his brother and one circular type email from Amazon greeted him. He trashed them all in disappointment as he loaded up his instant messaging app to check if he had any messages from Katniss. But as he clicked on her name and stared at the screen, he realised that she didn't even have his email address anyway. Dumbass.
"You can bring that new piece of yours if you like" Finnick chuckled as he perched his chin on Peeta's shoulder and elbowed him the ribs.
"Finn, it's not like that. She's not like that" he protested as he pulled away and reached for his shorts. But couldn't help but contemplate for a moment what Katniss actually would say if he plucked up the courage to invite her along.
Would a plastic cup full of beer lower her inhibitions around him? Would a flask swilling with liquor lessen his nerves around her?
He wasn't sure if it was a good idea at all, but he couldn't deny the tiny spark of excitement that raced through him at the prospect of spending more time with her outside of school.
Ten minutes later and he fled the locker room to a backdrop of catcalls and whistles that hounded him out of the door.
Peeta slammed down his Wii remote onto the coffee table with an unnecessarily loud thud. His brothers chortled across the room and high-fived each other as one of the computerised characters barged Peeta's own off the track. He watched in barely concealed rage as his Yoshi plummeted down into the darkness and the screen faded to black. Fucking Rainbow Road. He cursed as Lakitu breezed into his third of the screen and dropped him back down onto the course. In ninth place. The laughter of his brothers only seemed to intensify as the screams of his mother echoed throughout the house as she demanded him to be more respectful!
"Whatever, you guys are jerks" Peeta mumbled as he stomped up the staircase and towards his bedroom on the third floor of their home.
He plonked himself down at his cluttered desk and fiddled with the mouse of the iMac computer that his parents had bought him for Christmas. The large screen flickered into life as he typed in his password and waited for his desktop to load. He was greeted with the blank Microsoft Word document that he had pulled up earlier in the day in his feeble attempts to write the covering letter for his college application. The blinking cursor seemed to mock him as he glared at the bottom left of the page.
Words: 0.
He took a sip from the tepid mug of tea that he had managed to swipe in the midst of his dramatic exit and sighed. He was never going to get accepted anywhere at this rate. He wasn't even sure if he was that bothered. As he mentally tallied the work that he still needed to catch up on, his thoughts transitioned into daydreams about Katniss.
That was a logical leap, right? She was his unofficial tutor after all.
Her email address suddenly seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket as he logged into District Chat and searched for her name. And much to his surprise, a small lime green circle appeared next to her email address. She was online. He let his cursor hover over her name for a scant few moments before he dared to click and create a new chat window. Her display picture was one of those default ones that you could pick from the inane selection of images that were already pre-installed onto the instant messaging service. As he ran a hand through his hair he couldn't help but wish that it was an image of her pretty little face staring back at him and not the panting muzzle of a golden retriever. His own picture was a rather tongue-in-cheek selfie of himself and Finnick as they clutched their team's most recent football trophy between them. He briefly toyed with the idea of changing it; he had to admit that he looked pretty damn ridiculous. He eventually decided against it, and his fingers poised over the keys as he agonised over what to say. He decided that it was best to start simple.
Peeta: (18:27) hey
There, that was inoffensive enough he thought as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.
Katniss: (18:28) hi
Katniss: (18:28) sorry about Jo today. She can be a bit overbearing at times.
Peeta: (18:29) No worries. I guess I can be kind of a douchebag sometimes.
Katniss: (18:31) so you heard that huh
Katniss: (18:31) well… I don't think you're a douchebag
Peeta: (18:32) :)
Peeta: (18:35) So, I have something to ask you
Katniss: (18:39) Okay...
Peeta: (18:40) there's this barbecue happening on Friday night. Do you want to maybe come with me?
He knew that it was stupid, but he felt kind of empowered behind the defences of his computer screen. Without those piercing grey eyes and those adorable little freckles in front of him, he could almost forget that it was actually her that he was talking to. Besides, his fingers had already typed out the question and hit send before his brain had even caught up to realise. He groaned out loud as he steeled himself for the inevitable rejection.
Katniss is typing…
Peeta stared at those three little words that filled his screen for over two whole minutes before they disappeared from the chat box entirely.
Oh shit. Why did she stop typing? Oh shit. Oh shit!
Katniss is typing…
Katniss: (18:44) I don't know… I'm not really the partying type.
Peeta: (18:46) Come on Katniss! It'll be fun, I promise.
Katniss: (18:48) what about the studying you wanted to do?
Peeta: (18:48) Screw the studying! Look, if you don't enjoy yourself… we can always steal everyone's beer and leave. If you think that its lame I'll take you straight home.
Katniss: (18:49) But I can already tell you right now that I'll think its lame
Peeta: (18:50) Well… just do it for me then :) I'll owe you one.
Katniss: (18:54) ffs. you owe me BIG time Mellark
Peeta: (18:56) So you will?
His heart thudded inside of his chest as he waited possibly the longest five minutes of his life. It was like the slowest form of torture waiting for her response. He could almost imagine how she was sitting at home, her legs crossed and her lips pursed in thought as she deliberated over her decision. He gnawed at his thumbnail a little too vigorously as the soft swooshing sound of an incoming message blared through his speakers.
Katniss: (19:01) … sure. okay. You win. Whatever.
Peeta couldn't control the shit eating grin that broke out over his face. He wasn't sure how one little and very hesitant sounding word could fill him with so much excitement. He spun around in his leather desk chair until his head whirled so much that he almost fell off it completely. As he returned to an upright position he pumped his fist into the air and mimed his cries of victory as if he had just scored a winning home run.
Peeta: (19:02) awesome. I'll pick you up at 8.
Katniss: (19:02) Okay. Look, I gotta go… I might see you around tomorrow.
Katniss has signed out.
A/N: And there we have chapter three! Once again I'd like to say a massive thank you to all of you who have favourited/followed/reviewed! Some of you really make my day, so thank you. I feel like this would be a good place to say that for obvious reasons I do not own The Hunger Games nor do I own The Spectacular Now. Also, I took a few creative liberties with the dream sequence. Please do let me know what you thought of this chapter, I've been kind of unsure about this one and as always I would love to hear what you thought. Reviews are my only form of feedback so please don't be shy!