The duct is just large enough for me to wiggle through on my stomach in a commando crawl. There's no need to make ducts this large; they're just asking for someone to crawl through it. I hope I'm heading toward the library, otherwise I'll probably crash land on Coin's desk and then I'll really be up shit creek.

A small creaking noise emits from underneath my stomach and I pause. I've gone pretty far in this dusty place but probably not far enough to get to the library. I shrug and continue my journey like some sort of comical villain escaping from prison through a hole underground.

The metal duct gives way underneath me and I crash to the ground with an absurdly loud bang and crunch. To my elation, I'm in the library. The top floor, thankfully, because the forty foot drop to the bottom would've probably broken some bones. Coin definitely heard that noise, so I scamper to first floor and manage to sneak beneath Finnick and Katniss's desk before she reaches us.

"What was all that ruckus?" she demands. I can see her calves, her feet stood apart, pointed heel aiming toward me, but not the constipated look I'm sure she has on her face.

"What ruckus?" Finnick asks. I grin beneath the table and make myself more comfortable. Over my shoulder I see that I'm right in front of Katniss. I'm leaning in between her legs before I can even realize what I'm doing. She crosses her legs and knees me in the face, and my head hits the desk in my attempt to back away. I hear a bunch of banging as they try to cover for me. My head pain aside, it's an amazing view of what happens to be a set of spectacular calves. It's all I can do to not run my tongue along the defined muscle, but I control myself. I'm not some horn dog male.

"Can you describe the ruckus, ma'am?" Beetee asks, now seated directly behind Finnick and Katniss.

"Don't get smart with me, Mr. Latier. You all heard it, now what was it?"

"We didn't hear anything," Katniss explains calmly. Without much else better to do, my fingers slide around the back of her calf and begin massaging it. Her legs tense and she shifts in her chair, but she doesn't kick me away. My hands glide across her skin but I don't go over her knee, I just focus my attention on her calves.

"Fine. If I hear something else in here, you're all in big trouble. Big. Trouble." I roll my eyes from under the desk and wait until the door slams to come crawling out. Katniss swats me with her hands, a pretty blush invading her otherwise darkened cheeks.

"Asshole," she swears under her breath. I smirk and her and go toward Beetee, holding out my palm.

"My trees, Volts?" His forehead scrunches in confusion for a moment until it dawns on him that I'm asking for the one thing I told him to hold. For a genius he can be a real idiot. He removes the baggie from his pants and hands it to me. "Thank you." I go into the glass-enclosed research room in the back of the library, laying the weed out on the table.

Ripping a page from one of the nearby books, I use the paper to roll a joint on the big conference desk. Only a few moments later Katniss arrives in the room, and sits down in the seat next to me. I grin and light the joint, taking the first puff for myself. I hand it to her and surprisingly, she takes the hit like a champ. She doesn't even cough.

I must look as surprised or impressed as I feel because she laughs. "I told you I'm not that pristine."

"So you say."

"Where did Coin take you before?" she asks, taking another long pull from the joint before passing it back to me.

"The supply closet. Janitor's shit, whatever."

She looks almost horrified. "Can she do that? Lock you in a closet?"

I shrug. "Evidently. But she should know one thing about me." I pause and smirk. "I'm way too gay to get locked in a closet." Katniss laughs heartily, shaking her head at me. Beetee comes in the room next and props himself up on the table. Katniss hands him the joint and he inhales, choking just a little. "Not too bad for your first time, Volts."

He narrows his eyes and passes the joint back to me. "How do you know this is my first time?" he asks, suppressing another cough.

I smirk. "Call it a hunch." Soon after, Finnick and Annie join us as well and I begin rolling another joint. There's enough pot here for everyone and hey, I'm feeling generous. Plus, if I smoke them up, they'll be less stuck up and possibly, more fun to spend the next few hours with.

After about an hour, the room is filled nearly entirely with smoke. My radio is playing softly in the room, though I don't think Coin is paying attention anymore. With me gone she probably thinks these nerds are doing their essay. Instead, Finnick and Annie are engrossed in some intimate conversation, Beetee is rattling off all the elements on the periodic table, and Katniss is going through my backpack with my flannel on. I don't remember giving it to her, but I did start to do a striptease earlier and everyone made me stop. At some point she snagged it, but I don't mind.

There's not much in there. Some lighters, a notebook, my wallet, some receipts. She opens my wallet and inspects it, thumbing through my license and a few bills. She tosses it back inside my backpack and opens up my black notebook, furrowing her brow as she reads it. "What is this? Who are these girls?"

I raise my eyebrow at her. "What do you care?"

"I don't," she replies defensively. "I'm just asking a question. Are these your girlfriends?"

Sort of, I think. Inside that notebook is the name, picture, and short description of just about every girl I've ever slept with. There's not a lot of girls in there, maybe ten. "No, they're not my girlfriends. Well, some are, I guess. They think they are."

Katniss snorts in distaste and puts the notebook back inside my bag. "You don't believe in just ...one person?"

"Do you?"

She shrugs, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Yeah, I do. That's the way it should be."

I chuckle and shake my head. "I guess. But not for me."

"Why not?" she presses, waving off the offered joint from Beetee, who is now in the bottom two rows of the elements and really stretching my patience. Luckily the weed is really good.

"I don't know, I just don't." My voices raises a few octaves and everyone looks over at me. "What? Like you all believe in that fairy tale nonsense like Everdeen? One guy, one girl, or whatever combination you like, forever?"

Finnick nods his head. "Well, yeah."

"Because our parents are such shining examples of how well that works," I remark sarcastically. "I mean look at Latier. You said my imitation wasn't very good. Why not? Your parents got problems?"

Beetee stops reciting and sits on the back of a chair, his feet planted on the seat. "Not with each other, so much. But with me."

"Mine too," Finnick interjects, nodding his head. "You know why I'm in here? I taped Brian Johnson's buttcheeks together."

Beetee nearly falls off his chair in laughter. "You're the one that did that?"

Finnick nods. "Yeah. You know him?"

"Of course I know him," Beetee replies with a shake of his head. "He's a nerd."

"I didn't even want to," Finnick laments. "You know what's fucked up? I did it for my old man. I wanted him to think I was cool. He's always going off about the things he did in high school, how I should be enjoying myself. But then he puts all this fucking pressure on me to be good at everything. 'Can't miss a meet, Finnick. Gotta get that scholarship' 'You've gotta be the quarterback, what are you, queer? Only queers are punters.'" He tightens his hands into fists. "It's just so much pressure."

"I know about pressure," Beetee adds. Finnick shoots him a disbelieving stare and he widens his eyes. "I do! You know why I'm in here?"

"Cheat on a non-graded exam?" I offer.

"No. They found a gun in my locker." I quickly sober up and blink a few times.

"Why'd you have a gun?" Finnick asks cautiously.

"Because I got a D in fucking wood shop," Beetee growls, placing his head in his hands. "I can't have a D on my GPA. I'm supposed to be going to Cornell."

"You tried to kill yourself over a grade? The fuck is wrong with you?" I spit out, leaning forward on the table.

"I know!" he counters, angrily tearing off his glasses and rubbing his eyes on the heels of his palms. "You know the idiots who take shop?"

I roll my eyes. "I take shop." He eyes me knowingly and I sneer at him. "Fuck off, at least I can pass the shit."

"My pop is just always so on my case about it," Beetee explains softly, staring down at the table. "Can't get anything less than an A. 'What's this shit? A B plus? What are you, a retard?' I can't even relate to him anymore. He's just a machine and he wants me to be a machine."

"I think your dad, my dad, and Finnick's dad need to get together sometimes," I muse with a small smile. Finnick chuckles and nods his head.

"I'm not a machine," Beetee repeats. "I have other skills. You know what I really wanna do? Cook. I can make some great spaghetti. And a chicken florentine that'll knock your pants off."

"I can dance!" Finnick announces, abruptly getting up from the table. He turns up my radio and bursts out of the room, doing what looks like some pretty decent ballet. It's rather aggressive but still sort of beautiful.

Annie watches him closely, clapping excitedly. "I can ..um, I can.. I can play 'Heart and Soul' on the piano with my feet!"

"Don't need a demonstration," I plead with my hand up, "we believe you." I look over at Katniss and grin. "And what can you do, princess?"

Katniss shrugs, gray eyes darting down to the floor. "I don't have any talents."

"I find that hard to believe. Everyone has a talent. What's yours?" I prod.

"What's yours?"

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine." I wink and watch the small battle inside Katniss's eyes. Finally she relents.

"Fine. I'll be right back." She hurriedly gets out of her chair and carefully exits the library. I feel the small tug of worry in my chest that she might be caught, but I push it aside and continue to watch Finnick prance across the second level of the library. When Katniss returns she has a bow in her hand and a quiver over her back.

I stand up and exit the small reference room, cocking an eyebrow. "What the hell is that?"

"What does it look like, brainless?" she mocks with a saucy smile. "It's a bow and arrow." She quickly scans around the room. With purposeful steps she goes back into the room and tears a page from my notebook. A few quick creases later she's created a paper airplane and she struts out of the room and hands it to me. "Throw that as accurately as you can, anywhere in the room. As far as you can throw it."

She goes to the front of the room and sets an arrow on her bow, waiting for me impatiently. Finnick ceases his dancing on the second floor to watch, leaning over the railing. I stand a few feet back and toss the paper airplane into the air, only a foot or so from the ceiling. It only glides for about five seconds before Katniss has tracked it and sent an arrow flying into the center, pinning it to the ceiling. From here, I can almost make out the descriptions of one of my many conquests on the paper, her arrow pierced through it.

"Holy shit," I remark, placing my hands on my hips. "How the hell did you learn that?"

She shrugs. "Practice."

"You're good."

"I'm the best," she corrects.

My eyes light up as I get an idea. I scamper toward Finnick's table and rummage in his bag, producing an apple. I move to the back of the room and take one bite out of the apple, then place it on top of my head. "Okay then Everdeen. Prove it."

"Johanna, I'm not doing that."

"You said you were the best," I protest, raising my eyebrow. "Are you full of shit?"

"No," she contends with a stomp of her foot. "I just don't want to shoot a fucking arrow at your face."

I shrug. "Why not? If you miss, hey, no one will miss me, right Finn?" I look up at Finnick, who appears genuinely worried, and somewhat guilty. I move my gaze back to Katniss. "But you won't miss. So do it."

"Don't do it," Beetee urges. "It's too dangerous."

"C'mon, princess. Don't be a pussy. Just shoot the fucking arrow. You want to see my talent, right?" I stand up straighter and glare impatiently. "Before I'm as old as fucking Coin, please."

"No," Katniss replies, shaking her head.

"Do it!"

"No!"

"Just fucking do it!" I yell over the sound of Beetee's protests, startling Annie who has taken residence on the table next to me. She hides her face in her jacket.

"No!"

"Do it!" I scream, leveling my gaze at her. She loads the bow quickly, squints one eye, and before I can even release a breath I feel the arrow pass right over my head, ruffling my hair and striking the apple straight in its core. I don't turn around, but I hear the fruit tumble to the ground.

Katniss shucks the bow on the ground and removes the quiver from her back, tossing it behind her desk. The arrows clatter against each other, the only noise in the entire room. My lips spread into a grin and I start a slow clap. "That was pretty fucking hot."

Finnick hoots in celebration from the second floor, athletically descending the stairs until he gets to the ground near Katniss and pats her on the back. She blushes under the attention and diverts her gaze away. Annie peeks up from inside her jacket and I wink at her.

"Okay," I announce, rubbing my hands together. "Now my talent is not as cool as Katniss's, but we can't all be fucking Hawkeye. So I will need two volunteers, but I am going to volunteer you. Katniss, stand here." I take her by the shoulders and move her into the center of the room, facing left. "And Annie, if you please. Take off your jackets. And stand by Katniss, facing her." The two girls stand in front of each other, only about five or six inches apart. I theatrically crack my knuckles. "Now for my trick."

I place one hand on each of their backs, just about in the center. In one swift movement I snap my fingers, then stand back proudly. Finnick crosses his arms. "What did you do?"

Annie's mouth drops open and Katniss holds herself around her torso. "She - she unhooked our bras." Annie practically runs away from us, and Finnick glares at me and goes after her. I shrug my shoulders and return my attention to Katniss. The shit-eating grin on my face must be pretty wide by now. "How did you even do that?"

I shrug. "Practice." Her glare stays with me and I roll my eyes. "Relax. I'll fix it. Just hold still." I go around to her back and put my hands up the back of her shirt, quickly hooking the eyelets back together. She trembles just slightly beneath my touch. "All better," I coo into her ear. "Though personally I enjoyed it before."

"You wish," Katniss teases, walking a few feet ahead and sitting on top of Beetee's desk. Annie and Finnick return a few minutes later, with the former being in much better spirits, and sit next to each other on a different desk. I grab one of the chairs and spin it around, plopping myself in the middle of the room.

Beetee walks in, his hands clasped behind his back. "You know, I was just thinking, what happens on Monday? When we all see each other again? Because I, um, I consider you guys friends now. Am I wrong?"

"No," Finnick answers slowly, and definitely dishonestly.

"So on Monday, what happens?" he ventures, raising his eyebrows.

"Do you mean, on Monday are we friends?" Katniss asks, fiddling with her mockingjay necklace. Beetee nods. "You want the truth?" She sucks in a breath. "Probably not."

"Are you talking about just Johanna or everyone?" Annie asks, looking over to Katniss.

"All of you," Katniss says softly.

Finnick rolls his eyes and scoffs. "Oh that's a real nice attitude, Katniss."

Katniss glares at him. "Oh shut up. Like if Beetee came up to you when you were with all your jock friends, you'd say hi. Then once he leaves you'd cut him up just like you do now. Is it better to be nice to his face and an asshole behind his back?"

"What about me?" Annie inquires quietly, looking to Katniss.

The brunette looks at the ground. I feel the heat of anger crawling up my skin as Katniss fumbles for an answer. "It would be the same thing," I answer for her. "She'd say hi to you and the second you were out of earshot, she'd be shitting all over you."

"Oh fuck you!" Katniss counters, glaring up at me. "Like you're about to invite her to one of your fucking house parties or whatever it is you do. And forget Annie, what about Beetee? You gonna get him high in the parking lot with your friends? Finnick too? If we walked down the hallway together you'd probably just tell your friends we were fucking just so you could stand being seen with me."

I stand up and kick the chair away, advancing toward her. "Don't you dare fucking talk about my friends. My friends wouldn't give a fuck what clique you were in. But you wouldn't even try to talk to them, would you? You think everyone's below you. Or at least, you hang with people who do and you don't have the balls to say anything to them! You don't have the courage to like what you wanna like!" Furious, I lean in and cock my head to the side. "Just stick to what you know. Shopping and sleepovers and driving your mom's new BMW."

"You don't know the first thing about me," Katniss shoots back, shoving me away from her.

"Oh that's a nice necklace you have there. Is that 24 karat gold, hm? How about that jacket? From the skin of a newborn calf? I'm sure daddy loves to spoil his little princess," I sneer condescendingly.

"My dad is dead!" Katniss screams, directly in my face. "So you don't stand there with your fucking hypocritical bullshit and try to act like you understand me. This is his necklace and yeah, he bought me this jacket. It was wrapped as a fucking Christmas present in his closet. Never got to give it to me, because he died in a gas explosion at his job on Christmas Eve when I was 11."

The room sobers up quickly. Any residual effect of the pot has been seared off by Katniss's confession. There is a strange, dead silence in the room that I want to alleviate, but I can't be trusted to speak because apparently I have a foot stuck in my mouth something fierce. "I wouldn't do that to you guys," Annie says softly. "I don't really have any friends, but if I did, I wouldn't do that."

"Me either," Beetee agrees, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry about your dad, Katniss."

"Thanks," she says hoarsely, her eyes dipping down to look at her feet.

"I won't do that to you guys," Finnick says, looking around the room. "You have my word. I think that I would, normally, but not after today."

I roll my eyes. "Oh well isn't that just so gallant. It's too bad you're all a bunch of fucking liars. Except Everdeen, apparently. That's her virtue. One of two. Her honesty and her virginity."

Her hand swings up and slaps me clear across the face. My cheek burns hotly as I glare into her eyes, brimming with tears. "I hate you."

"No you don't," I counter. "But keep telling yourself that."

"I sorta hate you," Beetee says after a few beats. When I look over at him, he's grinning cheekily. "Can't say I blame Katniss."

A laugh bubbles up from Katniss's throat as she looks back at him, and she slaps her palm over her mouth. I glare at her, but it doesn't quite reach my eyes. "Is it because I call you Volts?"

Beetee laughs and shakes his head, fiddling with his glasses. "That's part of it. You're also just kind of a dick." I squint at him dangerously and he holds his hands up. "Look I get it, your folks suck. Just maybe, you know, tone down the asshole a little bit."

I scan around the room and everyone is staring at me, all in different stages of holding back laughter at my expense. My instinct is to be offended, as I normally would be if someone would presume to laugh at my parental situation. But as it's been made abundantly clear from today, I am not the only one that suffers. Maybe I suffer more than they do, maybe my lot is a little different, but I'll never know what it's like to have someone demean me for being only slightly less than above average, like Beetee. I'll never have some asshole breathe down my neck because I'm not the quarterback, like Finnick. My parents may scream at me, but at least they know I'm there, unlike Annie's. And I'll never know what it's like to have the eyes of the school on me, judging my every move. I'll never know what it's like to have to care that much, like Katniss.

"Duly noted, Beetee," I remark, nodding my head. "Duly noted. Now go put my tunes back on, man." Beetee grins and retrieves my radio, placing it on the table and turning the volume way up. I scale the large statue in the center of the room and drape myself over it, looking down on the other four. They each break apart and dance to whatever station Beetee tuned into, losing themselves in the music. Katniss stops dancing below the statue and holds her hands out. "What do you want, princess?" I yell over the music, a song I vaguely recognize from Shrek 2. Not that I'll admit it.

"Get down here and dance with me," she instructs, waving her hands.

"I don't dance."

She puts her hands on her hips and grins. "Don't be a pussy, Mason." I mirror her grin and slide down the statue to the ground. She takes both my hands and spins me around. The beat starts to get underneath my skin and I bob my head to the beat. My foot taps. Katniss watches me amusedly, taking her eye off me for a moment to watch Finnick and Annie letting loose together. Beetee is on top of one of the desks, really getting down. I let out a laugh and allow Katniss to take my hands and force me to dance with her.

Truth be told, it didn't take much convincing. Not that I'll admit that, either.

About thirty minutes before we're supposed to leave I crawl back into the duct, making my way back before Coin comes in to let me go. I replace the grate and sit back down on the broken desk, silently awaiting Coin's disappointed face to appear in the doorway. When the door opens, it doesn't reveal the slim figure of Coin, but rather the slightly shorter figure of Katniss.

"You lost?" I question, my tone soft. The corner of her mouth turns upward and I stand up, looking down at the ground. "Sorry about earlier."

She laughs. "Which part?" My eyes meet hers and she knows. She gives me a short nod. "I know. But I'm not here for your apology."

"No?" I tilt my head to the side and she slowly removes my flannel shirt and hands it back to me. I expel a short laugh. "Of course. Wouldn't want to be seen in this, right?" I pull it back on over my shirt, turning the sleeves up. Katniss stares into my eyes for a few moments, then steps closer to me. She grips each side of my flannel and pulls me into her, pressing her lips against mine softly.

She doesn't kiss like it's her first time. Her tongue is strong and forceful, sweeping into my mouth and claiming me with authority. Her hands hold me close to her and as she leaves my mouth in favor of kissing down my neck, I can't help but breathe out her name.

She finds my pulse under her lips and bites down, tugging on it with her teeth. The sharp pain resonates through my neck but shoots straight pleasure to all other parts of my body. "Katniss," I whimper, threading my fingers through her hair. I can feel her little mouth smile against my skin and she pulls away to look me in the eyes.

"I like that," she confesses, relinquishing her hold on my shirt to cup my face, rubbing her thumb along my jaw.

"What, giving hickeys?" I tease breathlessly.

She grins, and I think she'd be blushing if she wasn't already flushed from our kiss. "No. I like how you say my name when I kiss you." I smile back at her and lean in, robbing a kiss and robbing her breath. Her fist is still closed around the material of my shirt, which she tugs in arousal as I suck on the tip of her tongue. "It's my birthday, you know," she confesses after we break apart.

My eyes widen. "It's your birthday? Why didn't you say?"

She shrugs. "Would it have mattered? Would you have been nicer to me?" I look away embarrassedly. "Didn't think so."

"Well, here I am without anything to give you." I ponder this for a moment before getting an idea. Detaching myself from her grip, I go into my backpack and produce my notebook. She grimaces at it as I hand it toward her. "Here."

"Why would I want this?" she asks, taking it from me and raising her eyebrow.

"I have a feeling I won't be needing it anymore," I reply softly, looking at the ground. When I look back up at her, she's smiling widely. "Plus, even if I'm wrong, you can have it. Look up number four, and you can consider her your birthday present." She whacks me in the stomach with the notebook and slides he free hand around my neck, pulling me up for another kiss.

"I still kind of hate you," she whispers.

I hum against her lips and hold her head between my hands. "He knew himself to be a villain, but he deemed the rest no better than he seemed."

She lets out a small gasp and narrows her eyes. "What a liar! You have read Byron."

I roll my eyes at her. "Of course I have. We're in the same school, brainless, we had to read the same crap."

"Lone, wild, and strange," she recites, smirking at me. "Like you. So does that mean you hate me a little, too?"

"Yeah," I reply, "but not because I don't like you." She catches my eye and kisses me again, pulling me even closer and clasping her hands around my waist.

I don't know what Monday holds for us, but for now, I'll take this Saturday. She groans into the kiss and a short pant escapes my lips as we break apart for air. Yes, I'll definitely take this and leave my worries about Monday locked outside the closet.

There's a certain dread to Monday mornings that anyone in high school has felt at one time or another. Maybe you forgot your assignment, or you argued with your friend over the weekend, or you've got a big test coming up. Or maybe it's just that school sucks? Whatever it is, it fills your belly like a heavy stew and sits there until the drone of the morning announcements have passed and you get back into your routine.

My dread unfortunately is tied to a certain plaited brunette who I have yet to see all day. Our lockers are only a few classrooms apart - sorted by last names E to M - but every day she and her gaggle have convened at her locker, then walk right past mine to their first class. I didn't see her then, and even though the dismissal bell rung ten minutes ago, the hallway is choked with students still hanging around, none of them her. Not that I'm looking for her. I did see everyone else, though. Saw Finnick this morning, ate with Annie at lunch. I even spoke with the wood shop teacher and he agreed that if I helped, Beetee could do some extra credit projects to bring his grade up. The in-the-hallway, very public hug Beetee gave me was embarrassing, but I didn't mind as much.

Then, I hear them. The high-pitched giggling, the scuffing of high heels against the tile, and their loud voices ricocheting off the walls. People turn and stare as they often do when beautiful people walk by, but I stare into my locker, swinging the door back and forth. I have to will myself not to look, but I know she's nearby, tucked in this group of girls. Gathering my courage I turn and look just as they near me and my heart hammers inside my chest. We make eye contact, briefly, before she's dragged back into a conversation with one of her blonde friends and avoids my gaze.

She's going to forget Saturday ever happened. Ouch. The pain that squeezes my insides makes my eyes shut and burn beneath their lids. I'm not going to cry, not at school. Not where anyone can see me, I have a reputation to keep. And certainly not where she can see me. Fuck her, fuck this whole situation. Fuck her stupid beautiful eyes and warm lips. I hate her. I don't want to see her ever again.

"Typical." I slam my locker shut and turn around, suddenly face to face with the girl I just swore to never see again. Katniss drops her backpack to the ground and slides her hands over my collarbone and into the sleeves of my flannel shirt, then tugs the shirt right off of me. Her eyes never leave mine as she pulls my shirt onto herself, rolling the sleeves up near her elbows. She bends down and picks up her backpack, hefting it over her right shoulder. Her lips spread into a wide grin as she grabs the material of my shirt over my stomach, twists it into her fist and pulls me into her, crashing our mouths together.

For a moment, it feels like the ground just sort of gets sucked away. All I can sense is the feel of her lips on mine, the tacky sensation of her lipstick smearing on my mouth, her tiny tongue flicking out against my lower lip, the taste of her breath. The sounds slowly come into focus - the gasps of shock, the shouts of encouragement from the boys, and the murmuring of people too afraid of me (or her) to outright say something - and we pull apart.

She blinks a few times as we catch our breath and I can't help the goofy smile that's on my face. "What if I want my shirt back?"

Her teeth chew on her bottom lip for a moment and she shrugs. "Why? It looks so much better on me."

I lick my lips. "Actually it would look much better on your floor." Gray eyes flash wide with arousal and her teeth tug on her bottom lip again. I pick up my backpack from the ground and pull it over my shoulders. She takes my hand and entwines our fingers, squeezing them tightly. Her group has long since abandoned her, probably in a state of wide-eyed shock. She's better than them anyway.

We turn to walk toward the exit and one of Katniss's friends who I recognize by her blonde hair, but have no idea of her name, steps into our way and narrows her pale blue eyes at me. "Did you really kill someone?"

"Madge!" Katniss admonishes, blushing embarrassedly.

There's nothing particularly mean in the girl's tone and I shake my head. "Nope." That's been one of my favorite rumors about me and I'm sort of sad to let it go.

She eyes our entwined hands and looks back up at me. Her lips purse. "You gonna break her heart?"

Again I shake my head, but this time in bewilderment. "What are you, her mom?"

"No, I'm her best friend. And if you break her heart, I will find you. And I will," she hesitates, seemingly trying to think of something threatening. "I'll do something to you. I don't know what, but something. Unlike everyone else in this school - except Katniss, apparently - I am not afraid of you."

"This is unnecessary and embarrassing," Katniss notes, uncomfortably shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"I don't care, it has to be said." Madge looks to me. "Look, I don't care what your reputation is, all I care about is that you really like Katniss and you don't hurt her. Cool?"

"Ice cold, Maggie," I respond with a grin.

"Madge," she corrects, rolling her eyes. She looks at Katniss. "We are going to talk later, missy." In spite of her serious tone she smiles and takes Katniss's free hand and squeezes it. She breezes past us and Katniss meets my gaze. I give her an amused smirk and we continue to walk down the hallway.

The Princess and the Criminal. We're only slightly more scandalous than the Athlete and the Basket Case, who are making out next to Finnick's locker as we walk by. They detach long enough to see us, and after eyeing our joined hands, they both break out into smiles. Finnick wraps his arm around Annie's shoulder and the four of us make our way outside.

"You guys free Saturday?" Finnick asks, looking across Annie toward us. "Beetee invited us all to his new club."

"Someone's got detention for the next two months," Katniss reminds everyone, nudging me with her hip. "Because someone has a hard time not wagging her tongue."

I scoff. "I didn't hear you complaining about my tongue on Saturday." Katniss blushes again and I grin. "But fortunately, Coin seems to have forgotten there's only three weeks left of school. And if she thinks I'm stepping foot in this place after graduation, she's fucking delusional."

Finnick grins and nods his head. "Oh, by the way." From his back pocket he withdraws a folded piece of notebook paper and hands it to me. "We went ahead and had Beetee write the essay for all of us."

In Beetee's deliberate, neat handwriting is the essay he wrote to Coin.

Saturday, May 8th.

Dear Asst. Principal Coin,

We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you're crazy for making us write this essay telling you who we think we are.

What do you care?

You see us as you want to see us; in the most simplest terms, the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Correct? That's they way we saw each other at 7 o'clock this morning.

We were brainwashed.

But not anymore. We figured out that each of us is a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. We figured out that we don't want to live in our boxes.

Consider this the official application for a new school activity club: The Breakfast Club. We will meet every Saturday in the library to hang out and discuss what bothers us as teenagers: school, parents, sports, whatever. A place where other kids can feel free to break out of their boxes, too.

I will consider our club approved since there are no fire exits in the library, and having the door closed was a violation of the local fire code.

Sincerely,

Annie Cresta, Katniss Everdeen, Beetee Latier, Johanna Mason, and Finnick Odair.
The Founding Members of the Breakfast Club

Author's Note: Thank you to Johannas-Motivational-Insults, for her beta and her suggestions, both of which are helpful, as always. And thank you for reading! (Now go watch the film, all of you!)