A/N: This One-shot is based off of an idea I found online on a website called Prompts in Panem: "He can wrestle. He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother." I thought it would be fun to give it a try! A huge thank you to MotherCrumpet for Beta-ing this fic, you guys should go check out her stuff, it's terrific! Now, without further ado...


My head is pounding as I stumble from the mat; sweat dripping from my brow, my body shaking. For a small kid, I've come pretty far; at least that's what the coach says. He stands off to the side, leaning against the doorjamb, a clipboard in his hands. He's a big man, with a potbelly that jiggles when he walks, a stubbly black beard, thinning dark hair and beady little eyes like a rat's. He dresses like your typical High School gym teacher; wears golf shirts, usually red or gold, the school colours, cargo shorts, and a pair of running shoes that squeak when he walks.

"Good job kid," he calls from the door, giving me a thumbs up. I nod my head, too tired to speak, and wave. I personally don't have anything against him; sure he's a little tough on us, but he just wants us to be the best we can be, and he's nice enough.

I take a seat on the bench just before the bleachers and watch as Doug, a massive twelfth grader, approaches the mat with a sick smile on his face. Doug is what you would call a bully. He gets off on stealing kids' lunch money and tying them to the bike rack by their underpants. He doesn't bother me though, whether it's because my brother Maynor is one of his 'buddies' or maybe because I try not to cause a lot of trouble around school, but whatever the reason is I'm glad for it.

It was my brother Maynor who got me into this little school wide competition. Him and my other brother Rye, who's in the eleventh grade, are both really into wrestling. They'll both come home and tousle in the backyard or the basement on these rubbery mats. They set them up down there so that they could practice for the school wrestling team tryouts, which after constant nagging and pleading they finally got me to try out for. I didn't think I could do it at first; I'm not a very big kid, all skin and bones as my mother says, but now look at me, undefeated and on my way to the final round of the competition.

I remember the first time I ever wrestled, it was against Maynor, who's the oldest of all of us boys, when he was fourteen and I was ten. He said he was going easy on me, but he can tell that to the small scar on my back where he sent me flying across the basement and into the radiator. It was the worst thing I've ever experienced, my fourteen year old brother sitting on top of my back, knocking the wind right out of me, and pressing my face against the mat so hard dark spots bean to swim before my eyes. It wasn't until Rye came downstairs and with all of the strength in his body threw himself at Maynor, knocking him off of me and sending the two of them crashing into an old filing cabinet that I could breathe again. I never thought I would wrestle again after that, but two weeks later Rye needed someone to practice with and Maynor was sleeping over at a friend's house, so I was reluctantly back at it again.

It was Maynor's idea to enter us all in this competition. We'd all been on the team for a couple of months when they made the announcement about the school wide wrestling competition over the PA system at lunch. I didn't want to join when Maynor first brought it up at dinner, saying that I only wrestled for fun, not to win anything. Of course, like most things, it wasn't my decision to make, and the next day I begrudgingly followed Maynor and Rye to the gym office and signed up.

The way the competition works is that you all get separated into four different groups, no matter what your age, your size or your height. Then, within these four groups, you battle, or rather wrestle, it out until only one competitor from each of the four groups remains. So far that's me, Maynor, a chubby kid named Scott, and now Doug. Then, the remaining four contestants compete against each other for the title of school wide champ. If you win, you get a belt, a plaque, and an article written about you in the school newspaper. As much as I said I don't want to wrestle for the glory of it, it would be pretty cool to win.

"All right; Peeta, you're up," says Doug as he waddles away from the mat. He's hardly broken a sweat. He points a sausage like finger towards the ring where Scott stands, looking as nervous as a turkey around Thanksgiving.

I nod my head and walk towards the mat. I breathe in and out, and in and out, trying to calm my nerves. It's okay Peeta, you've got this; you can take this kid.

Scott Dooblinger is a paste-y, chubby kid with a clump of red frizzy hair. He wears a zebra stripped retainer that makes him spit when he talks and say his 's's like 'th's. He's a pretty smart kid. He came in first in the eighth grade spelling bee last year and always gets one hundred percent on his math tests.

"Alright boys, shake hands," says Coach. I take Scott's hand in mine, trying to give him an intimidating glare. His hand's all sweaty and gross. I wipe it on my uniform. "You know the rules; just play fair and have a good time." Coach steps back, off the mat, and blows his whistle.

Scott strikes first, running at me, legs bent, head low to the ground, and knocks me backwards. I wriggle underneath him, trying to free my arms, my legs, anything so that I can throw him off of me. Then, I jerk my body to the right and he rolls onto the mat. While Scott flails around on the floor, I spring to my feet and collapse on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He's bigger then me, but, despite my small build, I have more muscle. The whistle blows and I climb off of Scott and offer him a hand up. He takes it. We shake hands again; he begrudgingly wishes me good luck then stalks off towards the bench.

"Doug Hammerston!" the coach calls. My heart leaps into my throat as all 200 pounds of Doug comes swaggering over. He might never have hurt me before, but something tells me that's about to change.

"Are you ready to lose squirt?" he asks as he takes his position on the mat.

"Gulp… Um yeah totally, you're the one who's going to lose." I can't keep my hands from shaking. I quickly cross my arms over my chest so he can't see them.

Doug laughs, "You're lucky I'm friends with your brother there," he jerks his club like thumb in Maynor's direction. "So I won't completely annihilate you. Leave you a little bit of dignity."

I nod weakly. We shake hands; then, the match begins. Doug doesn't waste a minute. As soon as the whistle blows, he throws himself at me, pinning my chest to the ground with his elbow, knocking the breath out of me. Placing both hands on his meaty arm, I shimmy backwards, and then throw myself at Doug aiming for his lower back. Anticipating my next move, Doug rolls to the side and I land hard on the mat.

"Is that the best you've got, twerp?" Doug asks as he grabs my head and shoves me back down on to my knees. I stumble backwards onto my hands and push myself back up onto my feet. Then, I grab him by his ankles and we both fall to the ground, Doug on his back, and me on top of him. He squirms and twists and tries his hardest to push me off of him, but with all of the strength in my body I pin him down and he can't do anything but flail around, kicking and punching the empty air.

"…And time!" shouts coach blowing whistle. We both scramble to our feet and I offer Doug my hand to shake.

"Better luck next time," I say. My arms and legs are burning like fire. He slaps my hand away.

"Yeah whatever."

As he walks away, shoulders hunched, Maynor strides up with a smile on his face. "I don't know whether to be proud or frightened of you little brother," he jokes, ruffling my hair.

"I'm hoping frightened," I say and he laughs. Though Doug is a lot bigger then my brother, I know taking him down will be a bigger challenge. While Doug has brute force and muscle, Maynor has skill and technique.

"All right Mellarks are you ready?" Coach asks. We both nod. "Shake hands."

We do, and the whistle blows. Maynor starts the match by dropping his shoulder and ramming it hard into my stomach. I lose my balance for a second and he takes the opportunity to grab me by my legs and knock me over. But I won't let him pin me down. As he tries to climb on top of me, I swing my legs over his head and come up in a crouch. I stand and run at my brother, arms open as if to hug him, before I wrap them around his shoulders and throw myself at the mat, taking him down with me. As he struggles to stand up again I sit on his thighs. I realize too late that was a big mistake. From there, he easily flips me over onto the floor, and as I'm sprawled out on the mat on my hands and knees. He pins me down to the ground by throwing himself on top of me like a blanket. I toss and turn and flip and wiggle but to no avail. My heart sinks as the coach blows the whistle, signaling the end of the match.

"May I present to you the school wide wrestling champion, Maynor Mellark!" the coach says in a rumbling voice, raising my brother's arm in the air.

I stand off to the side with the rest of my family, watching as my brother receives his prizes and is bathed in praise from the on looking crowd. It might have been nice to win, to receive all of the glory that comes along with being the school wide champion of something, but if any one had to beat me I'm glad it was my brother, he deserves it.

"So I guess you still can't beat me, huh little brother?" Maynor asks, breaking away from his sea of admirers to come and stand beside us.

"No one can," I say with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he says thoughtfully as if considering what a great achievement that is. "And hey," he continues, "even if you didn't win, you know, I'm proud of you. I know you didn't want to do this in the first place, but even still you tried your best. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

"Aw, thanks Maynor," I say. That might have been the nicest thing my brother's ever said to me. He bends down to give me a hug.

"Yeah, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to kick your butt in front of the entire school." Moment over.

"Okay, as a treat who wants to go out for dinner tonight to celebrate Maynor's big accomplishment?" our dad asks.

"Yeah let's go to Mario's," says Rye.

"How about we let our big star decide?"

"All right, how about…"

We're heading towards the doors when I spot her, standing across the hall next to her little sister. She's watching us as we leave the gym. When she notices me looking at her she smiles at me and gives me a thumbs up.


A/N: So what did you think? Let me know by leaving a review or PMing me because I really love to hear what you guys think and how you think I can improve!