Returning home wasn't nearly as triumphant as Katniss planned it to be.

She wasn't sure what she expected, exactly. Not a banner or balloons or all her high school friends jumping out from behind the furniture and running over to embrace her, that was for sure. Still, was that so crazy after over a year of being in a different hemisphere, with only a few spare ten minute phone calls every other month connecting her to her old life?

Maybe a carton of caramel and chocolate chip ice cream left out on the counter would be more realistic. Or at the very least, there could have been someone home to greet her.

Instead, her mom was working overnight again, leaving the house empty. She had anticipated this already after no one had been there to pick her up at the airport, despite all the calls she had made. She had gotten herself home through a series of cabs and Greyhounds, and had almost missed her stop entirely after she fell asleep on the bus and practically missed the Welcome to Panem Township sign. Her mom owed her at least forty bucks for standing her up, but she didn't plan on telling her that.

There weren't any lights on, and when she flicked one of the switches on the opposite wall, she could clearly see that there was no note on the counter, either. She considered turning on whatever late night talk show was on now and staying up until the sky was streaked gray and pink, so she could dramatically stand up and confront her mother when she finally walked through the door.

But the nearly eight -hour flights had already done a number on her body, and a solid night's sleep, free of turbulence or the threat of bed bugs, sounded better than an exhaustion-fueled confrontation.

Just for kicks, Katniss checked the calendar on the kitchen wall before she headed to her room. Unsurprisingly, her return wasn't penciled in amongst the various doctor's appointments and daily reminders. She had told her mom the exact day she would be back, but it still hadn't been acknowledged. It wasn't a surprise from the woman who hadn't batted an eye when her daughter told her she wouldn't be back for Thanksgiving, Christmas, her birthday…

She hadn't planned on coming back ever, actually. But she knew eventually she had to. Because somehow, you ended up coming back home no matter what.

She trudged up the stairs, wincing as the third step whined in its usual broken manner, then found her room at the end of the hallway. She opened the door, prepared to collapse on her bed and sleep of her flight, but she froze in the doorway when she turned on the light.

She hadn't thought to prepare herself for what was inside.

Leaving a year ago had been a rushed process of last-minute plane tickets, a messily packed suitcase, and hurried good-byes.

There had also apparently been a small upheaval of her room.

There were blank gaps in between her collages of photos on the wall, spots of blue paint where prom pictures and paintings had once been. The family picture had been taken out of its silver frame on her nightstand, and the surface of her desk was cleared of years' worth of birthday cards and affectionate notes written on Post-It's.

But somehow worse than the things that had disappeared were the things that were still there. There were pictures she hadn't felt the need to get rid of but still contained the faces of people she hadn't talked to in months. Her track and volleyball medals still hung from the corners of her shelves, the impressive titles having lost their victory. The books her senior English teacher had given her were piled on the book shelves, some of them read and some of them not, although she immediately knew she would probably never pick up any of them regardless.

She realized, with a sinking feeling in her chest, that this room had belonged to a different girl, and now she kept expecting that girl to come storming through the door to tell her to get out.

Katniss dropped her suitcase by the doorway and went over to her bed. She needed a shower and to brush her teeth, but more than that she needed to sleep.

She pulled away the covers and crawled under them. Things would be easier to deal with in the morning.

Except they weren't.

It felt like only a short while that that the early morning sun hit Katniss' eyelids, she fumbled to open her eyes and roll over, away from the light. Her skin felt sticky and something had apparently crawled into her mouth and died while she was asleep.

"Fuck," she mumbled, pushing the covers off of her body and stumbling out of her bed and across the hall to the bathroom. Her head throbbed as her body was thrust back into her usual time zone, and she did her best to refresh herself with a hot shower, some toothpaste, and a fresh set of clothes from her still-packed suitcase.

It was only after she was done rejuvenating herself that she started to hesitate on what to do next. She still had a suitcase to unpack, but she knew eventually she would have to go face the outside world, including her mother. The inevitability of this convinced her to stir up enough energy to leave her room.

Funny how she wanted to go nowhere near it last night and now she just wanted to lock herself inside forever.

She had hoped to slip downstairs, get some food, and then have some time to think over what she was going to go with her first full day back. But when she came down the steps, she saw her mother sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee and working on a stack of paperwork, and she immediately knew she was going to have to regroup quickly.

"Good morning, Katniss," she greeted, "When did you get in?"

"Midnight,"

"Sorry I couldn't pick you up,"

No, you're not.

"It's okay,"

Mrs. Everdeen dipped her head into a nod, "Will you be here all summer?"

"Yeah. Until August, maybe. I'm still waiting to hear back from school to see when classes start,"

"Well, try to get up any later than today, alright? You're not in Brazil anymore," her mother took another long sip of her coffee and then picked up her pen, returning to the paperwork in front of her. The edges of the paper were stained pale brown from where she'd set the mug on them.

Katniss grabbed her keys from the bowl in the center of the countertop. They still had the plastic tabby cat charm from high school. Damn it. She's have to get rid of that, too.

"I'm going out,"

"Seeing friends?"

"Something like that,"

"Alright. Make sure you have the house keys, I'm leaving in a few minutes so the door will be locked,"

Katniss rubbed her thumb over the pair of silver keys hanging from her key ring, "Got it,"

She slipped out the front door before her mother could either launch into a touchy-feeling speech or more mundane small talk. She couldn't really decide which would be worse.

Her same worn-out car was sitting in the driveway, and she unlocked it, but found herself pausing with her hand frozen on her keys once she'd gotten in. A list of old high school acquaintances flashed through her mind, but she didn't really want to go see any of them. A slighter longer list of locations came to her, but they also failed in sounding appealing.

After a minute, she started her car and pulled out of the driveway, hoping her destination would eventually come to her.

She wished she hadn't been lying when she said she had somewhere to go.

He heard she was back his first night home for summer break.

Cato was throwing some big house party which Peeta had no desire to go to, but he'd ended up there anyways, with a warm, sticky bottle of beer in one hand as he listened with detached interest to all his old high school friends.

"Hey, Peeta, did you hear? Everdeen's back in town,"

Peeta raised his head and blinked across the dim basement.

"What?"

"Yeah, she finally crawled out of the jungle and came back last week. I saw her at Food Lion a few days ago. Nice job nailing that, by the way. All the hiking really did wonders to her ass,"

The circle broke out in laughter but Peeta just tightened his grip on the bottle and kept his head down.

"Hey, you did hit that, right man?"

"Fuck yeah he did. God, I bet that was great, huh, Peet? Girl looks like a gymnast,"

He shook his head and stood up from the destroyed couch, "I need some air,"

"Oh, come on, take it easy, we're congratulating you here,"

"Yeah, whatever. I'm going out,"

No one protested any further as he set his bottle down on the floor and walked past the circle of couches and to the staircase. By the time he got to the top of the steps and had opened the door into the brightly lit hallway upstairs, their conversation had already moved on to some other girl they'd gone to school with, who had apparently done an amateur porno in the last year.

God, he really hadn't missed any of his high school friends.

Peeta walked past the pastel-painted and family photo-lined walls of the hallway and out to the front door, then jogged down the front steps and out into the night.

It was still May, but the summer balm is already soaking into the air. He felt it press against his face and dig into his scalp as he walked.

She's back.

The thought made his stomach pitch and his arms crawl with goosebumps. It made everything feel unsafe, somehow, like he'll look up and she'd be walking towards him. Not that that would be bad. He just wouldn't know what to do. He couldn't handle the thought of her being closer to him than she's been in a year.

He could still call up an image of her in his mind, but the closer he focused, the blurrier the picture got. He lost track of little details: If the clump of freckles on her cheek was on the right or left side of her face. Which pieces of hair fell in her face when she bent down. The exact shade of grey that bordered her pupils. They were the kind of things that he didn't notice he was forgetting until he started thinking about and it felt wrong.

He wondered if she looked different now.

He wondered if she has a thousand more details now to keep track of.

Dances were awful.

Peeta knew that far before he even stepped foot in Panem High.

His oldest brother Bannock had successfully avoided dances until he started dating a girl senior year that was on the cheerleading squad, and by extension had to go. He came back from every dance grumbling about how awful they were and how everyone was high. Rye had gone to a few dances, but that was mostly to assist with being everyone high.

Peeta had planned on never attending, but an unforeseen consequence of being on student council was that you had to go to dances.

This was his senior homecoming, and so far, it was shaping up to be his worst. Even freshman year, which had been dedicated to working the concession stand and handing off-brand, lukewarm sodas and granola bars to upperclassmen, had been better than tonight. With his shift at the entry booth already done, he had nothing better to do than stand in the middle of the crowded dance floor and attempt to set a good example for his classmates, mostly of whom had apparently already taken advantage of the pot brownies being handed out in the bathroom.

The current electronic beat faded out and was replaced with a slower song, which still featured a guy talking about a girl, but this time with far more respectful language.

Peeta sighed and slid away from his crowd of wrestling buddies, most of whom had already paired up with their dance team girlfriends. He was already plotting out his speech to Effie, the student council advisor, convincing her to let him spend the rest of the night watching Hulu on one of the study hall room's computers. But he was cut off from his mental spiel when a body careened into him, and a small, female voice was shakily addressing him before he could even figure out what had just happened.

"Hi. Hi. Sorry. We don't know each other, but I need you to dance with me,"

He blinked and looked at the girl that currently had him by the lapels of his vest. He mentally scanned through the girls in his classes, but none of them matched up with her dark hair and wide-set gray eyes, which matched the color of her dress. She was pretty, so he wasn't exactly complaining, but he was still confused what exactly was happening.

"You need to—I'm sorry, what?"

"Dance with me. It's, uh—it's an emergency,"

"I, um—well, I guess if it's an emergency I can,"

"Okay thank you," she said hurriedly, and then pulled him up against her. She wrapped her arms around her and nestled her head into his shoulder. He cautiously put his arms around her shoulders and started moving along with her to the music, trying not to look too awkward in case this poor girl's ex ended up looking over here after all.

After the song was about half way in, she finally sighed and pulled her head away from his shoulder, "I'm sorry about that. Just—of course I have to see my ex-boyfriend dancing with someone else. If he was going to see me, then I'd kind of rather not be the loser that showed up alone,"

"Oh, it's okay. I get it," He kept swaying to the music, but it was already getting uncomfortable just dancing in unfamiliar silence, "And if I get to dance with a cute girl, I'm not complaining," Oh, Jesus, did he just hit on her? Not his intention. He quickly tried to follow up with something safer, "I'm Peeta, by the way,"

"Oh. Cool. I thought I recognized you from your class president campaign posters," she paused and smirked, "I didn't vote for you, by the way,"

"Oh. Uh, that's okay, I guess,"

"Yeah, sorry, I thought you kind of looked like a jackass. Good to know you're not,"

"Yeah, in hind sight quoting Augustus in your election speech kind of makes you look like a tool,"

"But you won,"

"Yeah. And so here I am,"

Which might not be such a bad thing after all.

The music faded out, and once again replaced with an electronic dance beat that everyone immediately began grinding to. They both looked over at the display and Katniss pulled her arms after his shoulders.

"Well, thank you for the dance," she sighed and started to walk past him, but he grabbed her shoulder.

"Hang on,"

She took a step back and looked at me with a raised eyebrow, "Yeah?"

"Um…I was just thinking…I don't really have anything better to do at this dance than stand next the wrestling guys and care what they're talking about, and if you don't have anything better to do than avoid your ex, maybe we could…I don't, hang out for the rest of the night?"

She smiled again and he rushed to provide a further explanation, "I mean, only if you want to. Unless you have, uh, a date or something to get back to. Then that's fine,"

"Peeta. I've never spoken to you in my life, and I just asked you to dance with you. Do you think I'd do that if I had a date?"

"Oh, well, no,"

"Right. I don't," she agreed, "And yeah, I can hang out,"

When she saw him walk into the 7-11, she seriously considered attempting to crawl into the fridge in front of her and hide until he left.

Of course, some part of her brain had been aware that she would have to face him eventually. She had just kind of hoped that it would have been in the park or something. Somewhere she could run away easily.

But here, where the two of them and the very bored-looking clerk where the only people there, that option was far less plausible.

He looked about how she remembered him: broad shoulders, curly hair, dimples. Infuriatingly beautiful.

It pissed her off that she still thought of him that way. Maybe her perspective would be different if they had ended in the usual way, with loud fracture and not a painful fizzle.

Peeta approached the register and pulled his wallet out of his pocket with one hand while he rubbed underneath his baseball cap with the other.

"Hey, pump five's not taking my card, can I get twenty five dollars' worth of gas?"

"Sure. Sorry about that, that damn thing's been shot all week," the clerk apologized as he took Peeta's card and slid it through the machine. His eyes wandered as he waited for the transaction to go through, and he spent a little time examining the various brands of gum and cigarettes behind the counter before he looked on to the rest of the store.

And of course, his gaze had to fall on her.

His eyes widened when he saw her, and she kind of hoped that meant he was as freaked out as she was and would just leave. But after he got his card back, he took a step towards her and smiled gently.

"Katniss?"

"Um, hi,"

"I heard you were back," he extended his arms as soon as he got closer to her and engulfed her in a hug. He was still a hugger. God.

He pulled back and gripped her arms, "God, it's good to see you again,"

"Um, yeah, you too," she forced herself to smile, "You look, um—how's life?"

"It's good. I got back from Capitol a couple weeks ago. This place is a lot more boring than I remembered," he laughed, "I mean, it's probably worse when you're comparing it to Brazil, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. That place was…fun,"

What the hell was she supposed to say? His hands were still on her arms but she moved them enough to hold up her iced tea and bag of pretzels, "Well, it's good seeing you again. I just…I got errands to run. Just wanted to make a quick snack break,"

"Oh, of course. Sorry about that," he dropped his hands and shoved him into the pockets of his cargo shorts, "I'll let you get on with it,"

"Thanks," she mumbled, already weaving past him.

"Hey, Katniss?"

She turned around, "Yeah?"

"Maybe we could hang out sometime?"

"Uh…"

"I get if you don't want to. I just—it's been a while,"

She pursed her lips. That was the exact opposite of what she wanted, but he was staring at her with those damn blue eyes and she found herself unable to straight-up say no.

Fuck Peeta Mellark, honestly.

"Maybe," she said. She listened to the clerk scan her two items and read off the total, and handed him a ten dollar bill, grabbed her food, and hustled out the door without collecting her change.

The right eye.

Her freckles were under her right eye. And in the harsh light of the convenience store lights, her eyes had looked pale silver, with a ring of dusky gunmetal surrounding her pupils. She had uneven pieces of hair falling on either side of her face. She had tiny white scars on her fingers and an identical mark on her left temple, which were new.

She was still beautiful.

He spent the better part of the evening holed up in his room, sketching out the way she had looked. He had drawn her so many times before, but after far too many incorrect portraits, he had a renewed sense of purpose for this one.

When he was done, the sides of his hands were stained with graphite and charcoal and his fingers were cramped, but she was looking back at him from the page, and for once, he knew it was really her.

But somehow the glint of her eyes looked different, the line of her mouth was straighter, and even though he knew it was correct, it still felt wrong.

This Katniss was different, he realized.

He hadn't expected her to be the same, exactly. And it didn't matter to him anyways. When he'd seen her earlier, all he'd been focused on was that she was there. Even now, that's all he could think about, even with her new found differences slowly invading his thoughts.

But it was okay. She was back, and that was better than having her miles away.

Still, as he set the drawing down on his nightstand and pressed his head against his pillow, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly had changed. What was it that had shifted the light in her eyes and made the line of her mouth go firm?

He knew part of the reason. He just hoped he had the opportunity to find out the rest.

"I hate this song,"

Across the table, Peeta laughed and dug his fork into the chocolate syrup-covered brownie on the plate between them, "What do you have against sixties rock 'n' roll?"

"That sentence is pretty explanatory, don't you think?"

"Fair enough," he slid his fork into his mouth as Katniss scooped some of the rapidly melting vanilla ice cream off their plate.

The Monday after homecoming, he'd asked her out. It was just as she was walking into her first period calc class, and he had been panting because apparently in the five minutes since he'd arrived that morning he'd jogged across the entire school trying to find her because he had no idea where her first class was. She'd laughed, accepted, and then he'd smiled and taken off again because his own class was all the way across the building and he had a minute to get there.

If there was one thing to be said about Peeta, it was that he didn't give up.

She didn't exactly know how they had come to the agreement to meet at the nostalgia-fueled diner on Twelfth, or how their short dinner had turned into a four hour long conversation and a shared dessert, but here they were, and her stomach hurt from a mixture of on-going nerves and laughter.

She slid another bite of ice cream into her mouth and sighed.

"God, I wish I had some fries left over to have with this,"

"Don't tell me you're one of those fries-in-their-ice cream people,"

"Why the hell is that supposed to be such a bad thing? It tastes awesome, I'll have you know,"

"Well, now I need to try some," he called out to the only waitress circling around the nearly empty diner, "Hey, sorry, could we some more fries, please?"

"Sure thing,"

Their server ducked back into the kitchen, and less than ten minutes later she came out with a basket full of fresh fries and set it between them.

Katniss turned to him slowly and rolled her eyes again, "Unbelievable,"

"What?"

"You're, like, inhumanly nice. I mean, it was one thing to dance with me while my ex was there, and then you asking me out was another thing—"

"I asked you out because I liked you, not just to be nice,"

"Whatever. And then you buy me extra fries,"

"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself, at least one of those fries is for me, so I can see why you like them in ice cream,"

"Alright, go ahead, then,"

He dipped his hand into the basket and pulled out a few fries, then swiped his into the ice cream before popping them into his mouth.

"Alright, yeah, I get it,"

"See? I'm right," she traced her finger in a circle against the sticky table tabletop, "Hey, tonight was fun,"

"That's good to hear,"

"I think—maybe we could do this again next weekend? I just, I think some good movies are finally coming in then,"

"Okay. Yeah, we can definitely do that," he smiled at her offer and then ducked his head and laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"I just—okay, don't think I'm a horrible person, but I'm kind of glad you almost ran into your ex last week,"

"Don't worry. I'm kind of glad, too," she admitted. She paused for a minute as he finished gnawing on another fry, and then leaned forward, "Hey, come here for a minute,"

He leaned across the table as well, his mouth opening as if he was going to ask her what was so important, and then she leaned all the way across the table and pressed her lips against his.

It would've been a lot easier for both of them if she had just gotten up and gone across to his side of the table and done this, but he didn't seem to mind. He opened his mouth slightly and made a soft noise that vibrated across her own lips as she pressed down on him. The jukebox in the background switched to an equally obnoxious song, but they kept going, her teeth brushing against his bottom lip and his tongue swiping against the edge of her mouth.

He was the first to pull away, and his slightly swollen mouth immediately grinned once the two of them were apart.

"What was that for?"

"Maybe you had something on your face. Or maybe I just wanted to kiss you," she leaned away from the table, pressing her back against the vinyl of the seat, when raised a hand to her mouth.

"Peeta," she gasped, "Oh, God, Peeta, your shirt—"

"What?" he looked down and immediately saw what she talking about: he had apparently pressed too close to their dessert, and a section of his button-down was smeared with white and brown stains.

"Oh, fuck," he sighed and then looked up and gave her a joking glare as she clamped her hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter.

"Oh, God. Oh God, I'm sorry, it's just—God, I'm sorry,"

"No, it's alright. I'll wash it when I get home. I just—I'm going to look like an idiot walking out of here,"

"It's okay," she assured him, "I'll walk out of here with you either way,"

"Is it weird that you just made me want to kiss you again?"

"No," she said, reaching across the table to set her hand on his, "But maybe we should wait until there's not a table and a sundae between us,"

He ducked his head and nodded, "Alright. I'd be willing to wait until then,"

"Hey, Katniss. It's Peeta. Oh, God, this is really creepy, I'm sorry, but you rushed out kind of quickly the other day, and I was with Madge today and she gave me your new number…and, yeah, anyways, I was kind of hoping…maybe we could hang out sometime soon? I'd just really love to talk to you again. Again, sorry if this is creepy. But yeah, would love to see you. Only if you want to. Okay. Bye,"

That wasn't what she wanted to hear when she got home that day.

It had been only a week since she'd been him at the gas station, and since then she'd done her best to keep busy while also avoiding him.

One of those plot to keep busy had involved meeting Madge for an hour at a local coffee shop, and had barely thought about giving out her number. It made perfect sense that Madge and Peeta still saw each other, but she hadn't even entertained the possibility that her contact information would eventually end up in his hands, making his invitation far more inescapable.

She tried to convince herself that she didn't want to see Peeta again. She had cut him out of her life before she left for Brazil, and that was that. No going back.

But there she was, lying on her bed, two hours after getting home, with her hand pressed against her mouth and the message playing again in her ear.

She'd forgotten about his voice. Sure, he'd spoken to her at the store, but she'd been too overwhelmed by other things—like his eyes, and the curls around his ears, and the fact he was talking to her at all—to really notice it. But now, completely isolated, she could embrace it. Even with the added tininess of the phone, it was still warm, traced with laughter and careful breaths in between words.

She was realizing now that she couldn't cut him out. Because despite her calculated efforts to do exactly the opposite, she had missed him. She didn't want to admit that, but, damn it, she did.

As the loop of the message ended again, she pulled the phone away from her ear. The phone icon on the voicemail practically pulsed before her eyes, begging her to press it.

She did. She didn't even have the space of a few rings to process what she was doing.

"Hello?"

His voice came on quickly, and it was just as warm as in the voicemail. She squeezed her eyes closed, letting the sound of it echo through her skull.

"Peeta? Hey, it's Katniss,"

"Peeta? Hey, it's Katniss,"

At the words, he jumped up from his desk and stood, the shock of hearing the words vibrating through his bones.

"Katniss! Hey! I didn't—I didn't think you would call me back,"

"Yeah. Don't worry, your serial killer message didn't throw me off,"

"Oh. Good," he closed his eyes, "So, um, what's going on?"

"I just got home, actually. I've been running around a lot lately, I guess. What about you?"

"I'm just hanging out. Dad's finally got some new employees while I was at Capitol, so I haven't had to work as many bakery shifts,"

"Your mom must be thrilled,"

"My mom doesn't have to be anything anymore when it comes to the bakery. They got divorced a couple months ago,"

"Wow. Sorry about that. Good call on your dad's part, though,"

"You're telling me," he pulled a hand through his hair and went on, "So, um, did you want to hang out?"

"Well, that's kind of why I'm calling you, so…yeah,"

"Oh! Oh, that's great. Uh…when could you…when's good for you?"

"Friday should be good,"

"Alright. Yeah, Friday's perfect. What do you want to do?"

"Oh, I don't care. You pick,"

"Okay. I'll think about, then. But, yeah, I'll see you Friday,"

"Okay. Great," There was a pause on the other end, "Peeta?"

"I'm still here,"

"I know. I just—sorry if I ran out the other day. I was just kind of surprised to see you, I guess. But I'm glad I saw you, really,"

"I'm glad I saw you, too,"

There was another pause, and he was opening his mouth to throw out some old inside joke, clinging to a hope that this would turn into one of their old late-night conversations, talking about nothing and everything. But she spoke first.

"Um, I should go. It's kind of late,"

"Oh, alright," he didn't put in that it was barely ten, "Good night, Katniss,"

She sighed softly, "Bye, Peeta,"

The line cut off and he pulled his phone away and lowered himself onto his bed, staring at the small rectangle of metal and plastic in his hand, which had briefly connected him to her. While he was still inside the conversation, it had felt a light year long, and it was only after he had hung up that he realized it had flashed by. Nothing too significant had been exchanged, but his heart was still hammering against his ribs.

As he looked up from his dark phone screen, his eyes caught on the drawing on his nightstand, the one he'd drawn after getting back from the gas station a few days ago. He looked at the glint in her eyes, the one that had seemed unfamiliar a few days ago. But now, he could hear her voice behind the face he had drawn, the same soft, melodic voice he remembered, and suddenly the look in her eyes felt brighter, and her lips weren't nearly as straight as she remembered.

Peeta smiled and lowered his head onto the pillow.

He could see the old Katniss again. And he had a date with her. Okay, not really a date. But he would get to talk to her again. Really talk to her.

Friday felt years away when he went to sleep.

"Admit it, I won,"

"No, I'm not admitting that,"

"Peeta, if you don't admit that I owned your ass at corn hole tonight, I'm going to dump you on the sidewalk and make you walk home,"

"Okay, fine. You ruled a game that is only played by people on the East Coast at backyard barbeques,"

"Come on, don't hate on Madge's party. Yours was literally just a slideshow and an unlimited spread of cupcakes,"

"And half of our entire school came, so there,"

"Yeah, because of the cupcakes. That and the fact that it's kind of fucking rude to skip out of your student body president's graduation party," Katniss took a breath from their oncoming argument as her house came into sight. She pulled into the driveway and let it idle for a minute as they sat in silence.

Graduation day had been exhausting from the moment Peeta had woken up nearly twelve hours ago. It was a lot of hugging friends and relatives, taking pictures, sweating under heavy polyester robes, and then finishing the day with driving from party to party, inhaling a dozen different kinds of cake and too many hot dogs.

"Hey, I liked your speech, by the way," Katniss said after they had been quiet for a while.

"Mm, which part? The one about unexpected things happening at homecoming? All the allusions I made about falling in love?"

"Eh, you know, those parts were okay. Better than mine, at least,"

"Hey, I appreciated you comparing our life journeys to a highway. Very original, really,"

"Oh my God, are you criticizing my metaphors? I can't believe I spent my entire senior year dating a nerd,"

"You're the one with the higher class rank, so I think you're the bigger nerd here,"

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes and cut the engine. The plastic cat key charm he'd gotten her as a joke gift for her birthday bobbed against her hand as she did so.

"A cat for my Kat, who finally took her fucking driver's test" was the note attached to it. She'd punched him in the arm, then immediately kissed him and clipped it to her key ring.

"Well, today was a pretty big day," she said, leaning her elbow against the steering wheel and burying her hand in her hair, "Do you want to go celebrate?"

"We've been celebrating all day, Katniss," he laughed.

"Yeah, but my Mom's working, and Dad and Prim just left so she could go on her college visit tomorrow, so the house is empty…" she grinned suggestively, "And the only alone time I had with you today was when we were paired up for the ring toss back at Finnick's party…"

"So what are you proposing?"

"I don't know, do you want to have graduation night sex with this year's class salutatorian?"

"Oh God yeah," he mumbled.

Katniss smiled and leaned over the center console, her lips tilted towards him, and he leaned in to meet her when she pulled away with a mischievous laugh.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached towards the door, practically falling out of the car when the door opened behind her. She slipped out and ran to the house, her hair loose and flying behind her as she escaped him, her laughter ringing behind her the whole time.

Peeta opened his own door and wasn't far behind her, running until he made it to the front stoop, where she was fiddling with her keys, trying to find the right one. When he caught up with her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground briefly. She shrieked in protest and he eventually set her down, laughing against the back of her neck as she resumed the search for the correct key.

"Peeta, stop, we have to get through the front door first," she laughed, leaning back into him as he pressed a kiss into the crook of her neck.

"Okay, open it then," he said, pulling his lips away to set his chin against her shoulder. Her hands fumbled with the keys, twisting one of them around in the lock a few times before it finally clicked.

Peeta's arms broke away from her as she rushed forward through the front door, and she turned around to grab his hand, pulling him through the living room and up the stairs. He tripped over the edges of rugs and over his own feet as he watched the hem of her dress flutter around her thighs.

When they finally made it to her room, she closed the door behind them and a second later he had her body pressed against a wall. Her dress went over her head in a blur of floral cotton and when it was pulled away she had hair stuck to her cheek, which he pushed away with his thumb. She smiled at the gesture and then grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into another kiss. He felt the warmth of her skin and the pressure of her heartbeat pressed against his own chest, and his hands moved across her back until he was able to loosen the hooks on the back of her bra and pull the garment away from her.

When they broke away she took a step backwards and fell onto her bed, her lean body spread out across the quilt. She was all taut olive skin speckled with pale freckles, and Peeta felt heat pool in his lower body as he undid the buttons on his shirt and knelt down in front of her. She shrieked in protest as and kissed the bottoms of her feet and the insides of her ankles.

"Stop it, that tickles,"

"Okay," he sighed, sneaking in a few more kisses to her legs. He inched further up and swiped his tongue over the hollow between one of her hipbones and the center of her stomach. Her core shook and she whined as he kissed right below her hipbone, his lips pressing against the lace of her underwear. He took hold of the material and slid it down her legs, then shifted forward until his mouth was practically on her…

"Peeta, wait, stop. N-not tonight,"

"What?" his mind was fuzzy with anticipation but he still stopped and looked up at her. She was propped up on her elbows, looking down at him as he set his chin against her thigh.

"I don't want to do anything…extra tonight, I guess. I just…can we just…"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, of course we can," he shifted his body to hover directly over hers.

"Sorry. You know I usually like it when you—"

"When I eat you out?"

She wrinkled her nose, "Don't be crude, Peeta,"

"Right. Sorry. My girlfriend is a nerd and a prude,"

"Fuck off before I kick you out,"

"No, no, I'm kidding. If you don't want to, it's fine,"

"It's just—I've been waiting for this most of today," she sat up to kiss underneath his ear and her teeth caught on his earlobe, "You wanna know something?"

"What?" he gasped. He hadn't even realized he was holding his breath until the word came out in an airy rush.

"I was thinking about you during the whole ceremony. The only way I got through all those names being called and those damn staff speeches was thinking about you inside me,"

"Fuck," he muttered. He reached over and grasped for the first drawer of her dresser, where she kept a few condoms next to her spare headphones and gloves.

"Peeta, hurry up," she whined, her back arching and her torso pressing against him, her skin hot against his body.

"I know, I know, hang on," he assured her.

"Why the fuck are your jeans still on?"

"I'm getting to that,"

He managed to get to the box, pull out a condom packet and rip it open, then crawled off the bed for a minute to shuck off his jeans and briefs and rolled the latex over his pulsing erection.

He fell back onto the bed and resumed his position on top of her. Katniss murmured gratefully as he pressed against her and leaned down for a soft peck against her lips. Her mouth quickly morphed again under his and her surprised squeak was extinguished against his lips as he swiftly buried himself inside her.

She lifted her legs and wrapped them loosely around him as he rocked against her, his face pressed against her neck. She smelled like lavender perfume, and her voice sounded raspy and uneven as a series of grunts and gasps poured out of her throat.

He would never get over the way she sounded when they were being intimate. They'd be together physically more times than he could count over the last school year, but her shuddering breaths and flushed skin never failed to make him dizzy.

Dizzy and really fucking turned on.

"Peeta—you feel so—fuck," Katniss panted. Her torso twisted underneath him and their hips collided as her back arched upwards. He could tell she was starting to tilt towards the edge.

Her mouth gaped open and she gasped out a few hot puffs of breath that sounded like his name. Seeing her come only made the fire inside his stomach burn hotter, and he felt his muscle tighten as his own release began.

"Katniss…" he hissed. His right hand was gripped firmly onto her shaking hip and his left hand got a firm grasp on the sheets above her head. He felt his skin flush and the pressure in his lower half release as his orgasm swelled through his body.

Peeta's climax was swift, and when he was done he laid on top of Katniss for a few moments, their skin slick and sticking together, before he felt himself softening inside her and pulled out. His limbs felt loose and heavy but he still lifted his arm and grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box on Katniss's bedside table to wrap up the used condom and clean himself off.

Once the he was finished, he collapsed back onto the mattress and pressed a lazy kiss to the curve of Katniss's neck.

"Was that good?"

She turned her head, her eyes dark and clouded over, and her mouth rose in a languid smile

"Yeah, 's good," she mumbled.

"You tired?"

She nodded, her eyes blinking slowly. He wasn't too surprised; Katniss usually got worn out after sex, and the day had already taken up a lot of her energy.

"Alright, it's been a long day, just lay back, that's it," he coaxed her, pressing on her shoulders so she was lying flat against the bed.

"Peeta," she mumbled, shifting enough to drag her hand over his cheek, "Peeta, promise me—promise me we're always gonna be together,"

He smiled at her exhaustion-fueled sentiment and pulled her hand away from him, pressing her fingers into his own.

"Of course we will, Katniss, I promise,"

"I love you, Peeta,"

"I love you too," he said, pressing another kiss to her lips, "Sweet dreams, Katniss,"

The ringing of her phone broke out in the middle of the night. Peeta felt Katniss shifted next to him, and he instinctively reached out and pressed his hand against the curve of her hip.

"Leave it, it's late,"

She laughed slightly, her voice raspy with interrupted sleep, "It's my mom, Peeta, just give me a few seconds,"

She pressed the phone against her ear, "Hey, Mom, what's going on?"

There were a few beats of silence, and then Katniss gasped and sat straight up.

"What?" her voice quivered, "What—oh my God. Oh my God, I'll—okay, okay, I'll come—Mom, Jesus, I'm coming! Hang on!"

She hung up and tumbled out of bed, "Oh God, where are—where are my clothes?"

Peeta sat up and reached over to her lamp, flicking it on and bathing the room in faded yellow light. Katniss was hopping around the room, her drawers yanked open as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top. He sat up fully and started to slide his legs out of bed.

"What's going on?"

"I don't—my dad—Oh my God, Prim, she didn't say—fuck, where is hell are my shoes?"

Peeta got out of bed and grabbed her favorite sneakers from their usual place next to her bedside, holding them out to her wordlessly. She snatched them and shoved her feet into them before grabbing her abandoned keys on the dresser and tucking her phone into her back pocket.

"I have to go, Peeta, I'm sorry, I have to—"

"Hey, hold on, what's going on? What's wrong?"

She looked at him quickly and pressed her hand against his arm, squeezing it tightly until her grip started to hurt.

"Something's happened, Peeta," she whispered, "Something really bad,"

"Mom, where's my phone?"

Mrs. Everdeen had apparently decided to cook that evening, and was keeping watch over a pot of boiling tomato sauce on the stove. She didn't look up as Katniss proceeded to lift up every pile of loose papers on the counter to check beneath them.

"Did you check in your room?"

"Yeah, of course I did,"

"Under your bed?"

"Yes,"

"Well, I haven't seen it,"

"Can you at least call me, then? It shouldn't be on silent,"

"Alright," the older woman picked up her phone from behind her and tapped at the screen before setting it back down. A series of musical chimes burst from the other room, and Katniss ran in and located her phone underneath a couple of throw pillows on the couch. She hung up her mother's call and then immediately checked the screen. Fuck. She had three different texts from Peeta.

Twenty minutes ago: Hey, heading over. You still want to do this, right?

Ten minutes ago: I'm out front. Still not a serial killer, I swear.

Three minutes ago: Um, if you don't want to do this, just tell me and I can go.

Her thumbs flew over the screen as she tapped out a reply and jogged back towards the front of the house.

No, no, sorry, I'm coming, I just lost my phone. I'll see you in two seconds.

As she passed by the kitchen again, she called out to her mother, "I'm going out, I'll see you tomorrow morning,"

"You sure you don't want something to eat? I'm making pasta, just give me five more minutes and it'll be done,"

"No thanks," she flipped her phone between her hands nervously. It dinged, and she looked down fast enough to see a text from Peeta that ended with, Take your time, "We'll probably get something to eat while we're out,"

"Who's 'we'? You and Madge?"

"Um, Peeta Mellark, actually. You remember Peeta, right?"

"Of course," For the first time in their entire conversation, Mrs. Everdeen looked up at her daughter and smiled, "Ah. That would explain the dress,"

Katniss glanced down at the short summer dress and jacket she'd thrown on without much thought and immediately felt her stomach drop. Fuck, if her mom thought she was dressed up for a date, would Peeta think the same?

This wasn't a date. It couldn't be a date. He knew that already.

"All my shorts were dirty," she tried to explain. It was a blatant lie, but she kept going, "Um, he's waiting for me, I should go,"

"Alright. Have fun. And do your laundry tomorrow if your clothes are so dirty,"

"Right. Bye," she slipped out of the kitchen and practically jogged out the door and down the front steps.

Peeta had the same car from high school, and it still looked brand new. Of course it did. Peeta had always been a freak about taking care of his car. Once Katniss had spilled an entire chocolate milkshake all over the front seat and he didn't even say anything. He'd just pressed on the leather seats with a wad of napkins and assured her it would be okay. Even after the $500 cleaning that followed, he never got pissed at her.

He was still inside his car, and she could see his head bent over, his features eerily illuminated by the blue glow of his phone screen. She went around the car and tapped on the passenger's side window to alert him that she was finally there. Peeta jumped at the sound and looked over, though his startled expression face quickly morphed into a grin when he saw her. He leaned over to unlock the door and she climbed in.

"Hey," he breathed, "I, uh, I was going to wait outside the car, but, um, I didn't know if that would be weird,"

"No, it's okay. And don't worry about this being weird, alright? It's not a date or anything,"

"Right," he nodded and cleared his throat, "Um, is it too date-like if I told you that you look really nice?"

"That's alright, I guess," she conceded, "Thank you. You look nice, too,"

And he did, which was kind of frustrating. He was dressed in a black and white baseball shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He'd done nothing noticeable with his hair, and she could tell because of the one loose curl that hung over the middle of his forehead that he was occasionally reached up to push back.

Fuck, why did she still know this stuff?

"Thanks," he said before turning his keys in the ignition. The radio came on immediately, an indie station that ran out of a local university. They used to listen to it when he drove her to school.

"You can change the station if you want,"

"This is fine,"

"Alright. Are you hungry?"

"I guess,"

"Okay then," he pulled past the surrounding residential streets and drove a few minutes into town. There was a Dairy Queen nearby and Peeta steered towards the parking lot.

"What, no real food?" she teased as he pulled into the drive-thru line.

"Hey, we can have ice cream for dinner if we want, right?"

"Right," she smiled, "And I like the Reese's Pieces Blizzard,"

"Yeah, I remember,"

He ordered their ice cream and also a large bag of fries, and when they got the food at the next window Peeta promptly dipped a couple fries into the chocolate ice cream in his cup. He looked over and shook his head at the look she had been giving him.

"Don't look at me like that, you brought me over to the dark side,"

"Good, then," she laughed, grabbing a few of her own and dipping them into her vanilla soft serve, "Thanks for the food. And, um, thanks for asking me to hang out tonight,"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's no problem, really," he balanced his own cup between his knees as he pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the street, "I was thinking maybe we could go to Crane Point. A lot of stuff's closed right now, so, I thought maybe we could just talk,"

Her stomach twisted and she realized she wasn't going to get to run this night out by bowling or going to a movie. She'd actually have to talk to him.

When had that become so hard?

"That's fine," she said, shoving the a spoonful of ice cream and candy into her mouth as they drove along.

Crane Point was a short, sloping cliff that bordered a local park, and it was infamous for being the meeting spot of choice for horny teenagers. The two of them had never actually come here while they were still together, since Katniss had found the place a bit cringe-worthy.

But they were here now.

Peeta turned the ignition off once they were parked and pointed out across the lit-up town below them.

"It's funny how it looks like that, huh? Panem's so tiny, but it still looks so pretty when all the lights come on," he smiled and looked over at her, "I always wanted to take you here. Not, to like, do what everyone else does here. But to look out, see the lights, hang out,"

"Well, you finally got your chance then," she replied, "So, how have you been? How was freshman year?"

"It was okay. Kind of boring, I guess. But Capitol has a pretty great Communications program, so I'm excited about that," he shrugged, "Other than that, just a lot of parties and sporting events. Nothing out of the ordinary," he turned to look over at her and his fingers brushed against her elbow as he nudged her arm, "But, hey, I'm sure whatever stories you have about Brazil will be more entertaining than any story I can tell,"

"Oh, yeah. That was pretty fun," she admitted, pushing her spoon down until it pressed against the bottom of the cardboard cup.

"What did you do over there, exactly?"

"Um, a lot of hiking, I guess. Going from town to town, getting to explore. I met a lot of people and went out with friends and stuff. Pretty much what I was doing in the states, actually, just with new scenery,"

"Learn any Portuguese?"

"I kind of had to," she replied, "Why, you want to hear a little bit?"

"Yeah, if you want to,"

"É este um bordel?"

"And what does that mean?"

"'Is this a brothel?'"

"Please tell me you're kidding,"

"No, I swear to God I'm not. That one really comes in handy when you're couch surfing,"

He laughed and slapped his hand against the steering wheel a few times as he did.

"So you really liked it, huh?"

"Yeah, I did. I mean, it wasn't as big of an adventure as I thought it was going to be, but I liked it better than here,"

"Ah," he drummed his fingers against the wheel and looked out at the darkness of the sky in front of them, "Did, you, um, meet anyone over there? Like, a guy?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not dating anyone, if that's what you're getting at,"

"Oh, no, I—fuck, I probably should've asked if you were dating anybody before I asked you to hang out, but—no. I'm just curious,"

"I met guys over there. Just didn't go out with any of them,"

"Okay. Sorry about that," he pushed back the rouge curl on his forehead again and she saw the bright pink flush on his cheeks as he rushed on, "Did you ever miss this place?"

"Sometimes. Not really," she admitted, "I tried not to think about this place very often, actually. I didn't even want to come back,"

"Oh," Peeta was silent for a minute and then sighed in frustration, "Katniss, what are you even doing here? I mean, really? You didn't want to come back, so why the hell are you still here?"

She was taken back for a minute by his shift in tone, but tried to pull together an answer anyways.

"I'm just transitioning, I guess,"

"Transitioning into what, exactly?"

"I have no fucking idea,"

He dragged a hand through his hair and kept the other hand draped over the steering wheel. She used to love it when he did that. Fuck, she still liked it but she wasn't going to admit that out loud.

"What are you going to do after this summer?"

"Go to college. Get an apartment. Get a job. Never come back,"

He scoffed and she looked over at him, glaring.

"What, do you have a better idea?"

He shook his head, "I guess I still don't see the point in you being here right now if you obviously hate this place so much,"

"Whatever," she tapped the heel of her hand against the side of car, "You know, you used to be nice,"

"I'm still nice,"

"Well right now you're being kind of a dick," she snapped and even sucked in a breath and tried to calm down, "I didn't want to come back but I needed to, Peeta. Just this once,"

"Why? To make peace? I don't see you making a lot of peace here,"

"Oh, yeah, I can really see you're still a nice guy," she snapped, "Why do you care so much about why I came back, huh?"

"Because I never got an answer from you, that's why!" he snapped, then quickly closed his mouth and tilted his head back against the headrest, "I'm sorry. I just—you never told me why. And I guess I'm just wondering what ever happened to us,"

"You want to know 'why'? As in why I left? You know why I left,"

"No, why we had to break up,"

"It—I don't know, it just felt right,"

"How?" she looked over at him and saw the wetness of his eyes as they searched hers, "How was it right, Katniss?"

"I didn't want to leave anything behind,"

"I would have gone with you. You didn't have to leave me behind,"

"Peeta—"

"Or I could've stayed behind. But I would've been there when you got back. I mean, I still am, see? You're back and I'm still here and I still want to see you,"

"I got out because I wanted to change. I knew I would be different after I got out, I wanted to be different. And I—"

"What?"

"I wasn't sure if you would like that person I came back as," she whispered. It came out in a rush, and she stared hard at her hands as she said the next few words, "I'm not even sure if I like me anymore,"

He reached over and grabbed one of her hands, his warm touch sending pinpricks of sensation own her entire arm.

"You're not that different, you know," he said, "You're still Katniss. And I would still love you no matter how much you changed,"

Her fingers stiffened under his touch and she slid her hand away.

"Peeta, don't say that,"

"What?"

"Don't say you love me,"

He sighed, the sound bordered with frustration, "Damn it, Katniss, I still do. Whether you want me to say it or not I still do,"

"I guess you didn't pay attention to what I told you before I left, huh?"

He shook his head, his eyes misting over, "I could never do that,"

They were quiet for a few moments, the car filled with their heavy breaths and the sound of cicadas buzzing outside. Katniss opened her mouth several times before she had the courage to speak again.

"Peeta, can you drive me home?"

"Okay,"

The engine started up and the same station came on, but neither of them moved to change it. The singer's raspy voice was going on about being in love forever and the beauty of devotion or some shit like that.

Katniss could barely hear it over the silence roaring between them.

When Peeta got home, he was too wired to go to bed.

He made a beeline for the kitchen as soon as he was inside, taking caution to tread lightly over the tile floor as he advanced to the fridge. His dad's bedroom was directly overhead, and he didn't want to wake him up, not with an early wake-up in just a few hours.

He got out a bottle of water and chugged some of it down as he turned on his phone again. It buzzed in his hand as soon as he unlocked it, alerting him that he had missed both a text and call from his brother Rye while he and Katniss were out. The text simply read, Hey, sorry I missed you. Wanna talk later tonight?

Peeta briefly considered ignoring the message, going to bed, and maybe getting back to it in the morning. But his relationship with his brother had certainly gotten better in the past years, after they had both gone to college and were no longer living under the same roof, fighting for the same time in the bathroom or gas money loans from their parents. And he could definitely use someone to chat with right now, whether it turned into a mini therapy session or a round of meaningless small talk to talk his mind off of things.

He gulped down some more water before returning the bottle to the fridge, and then made the short trek to the back door as he pressed Rye's number in his contacts. His brother's voice came on about the same time Peeta was opening the screen door to go outside.

"Hey, little brother,"

"Hey, man, what's going on?" Peeta asked, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he leaned his arm against the back porch railing. The air was thick and humid once again, but right now it felt better than the stale, recycled air in his room.

"I just wanted to see what's up,"

"Nothing, really. You know this place,"

"Hell yeah I do. That's why I'm staying in Cali for as long as I can. You'd like it here, you know. Lots of shit that would be cool to paint," Rye paused, "How's Dad?"

"He's good, from what I can tell. But you know Dad, he never lets on if he's feeling okay or not,"

"Right, of course," there was another long stretch of silence, "Look, man, I know Katniss is back from Venezuela or whatever—"

"Brazil," Peeta corrected him without thinking, "And how did you know?"

"Peet, let's just say if I see another Facebook update from those piss brained friends of yours about looking at your ex-girlfriend's ass from behind a stall at the Farmer's Market, I will fly back there and knock their struggle 'staches off myself,"

Peeta laughed at this and then remembered the night he'd just had and decided that maybe it would be a good idea to unload.

"Yeah, I know she's back. I actually just got back from hanging out with her,"

"You did? Shit, how'd that go?"

"About as well as you'd expect, really. Awkward, then it got better, and then it kind of blew up at the end,"

"How happened exactly?"

"Um,"

"Peeta. Tell me,"

"I kind of told her I loved her,"

"Oh fuck," Rye breathed, "I—shit, Peet, I know you've been curled up in some sort of romanticism B.S. since you could grasp what a fairy tale was, but why the hell would you think that was a good idea?"

"I don't know," he said helplessly, "It's true, though,"

"I know it's true, man. That's what makes this even worse," he could hear Rye breathing heavily on the other end, probably to both calm himself and to suppress any inappropriate laughter, "So she flipped?"

"Kind of. She's didn't yell or anything. She just told me that I couldn't keep saying that," he rested his forehead in his hand, rubbing his temple in a poor attempt to ward off an approaching headache, "I don't know, Rye. I just can't picture living in a world where I can't love her,"

"Look, man. I'm sorry. This is a fucked-up situation but I'll try to help out as best I can. Alright?"

"Alright, lay it on me,"

"She's hurting, Peet. She's hurting real bad. And sometimes hurting people take some time and sometimes their most lucid moments are when they're forehead-high in pain. I think you've laid it out there as much as you could, so it's up to her now. She gets to decide if she can do this or not, man. I know that sucks but you gotta step back and let her reach out. And if she doesn't, then you're just gonna have to find a way to live without her,"

Peeta couldn't get his brain to process the last few words, and after a minute Rye's voice came back.

"You still with me?"

"Yeah, I am. That—it's not going to be easy to let go. But I'll try,"

"Okay then. Well, I just wanted to check in. I guess my brother's intuition was telling me you needed it,"

"Yeah, it worked. Thanks for listening, man,"

"No problem. Call me anytime you need it, alright?"

"I will. Stay safe out there,"

"I'll do my best. Love you, little brother,"

"Love you too," he hung up the phone and promptly ran his fingers through his hair, his nervous habit kicking up again.

The humidity outside was starting to become smothering, and he knew that eventually he would have to go inside. But for a few more minutes, he stayed out on the porch.

"I love you, Katniss Everdeen," he whispered into the darkness, "And I think I always will,"

He closed his eyes and savored the words on his tongue. They seemed so much more delicious now that he might not be able to say them again.

She swore she'd never go back to the high school.

The deal was that she threw her cap in the air and it was over and done with. She'd never walk across the football field again, or sit in the auditorium, or trudge down the halls. Never, ever again.

But she'd been coming by the building a lot lately, just to sit on the concrete steps leading up to the entrance of the school and breathe.

This place was saturated with memories, and every time she looked out at the surrounding campus, she kept seeing herself in snapshots. On the football field, she saw herself as a freshman, walking across the green plastic grass along with the rest of the fall athletes, and had nearly gotten killed when one of the cheerleaders fell off the pyramid and hit her in the back of the head.

On the tennis courts, she was with, Madge, the same cheerleader who had hit her, as they wasted their lunch and free periods trading snacks and stories. On the track, there she was again, covered in sweat and breaking ahead of the pack in the last lap of the 1600.

And then in the field across from the gym, she saw herself from just a few weeks ago, in an ugly set of dark purple graduation robes, posing for pictures side by side with Peeta. At some point he pulled her into a dip and kissed her, just as one of the girls from the yearbook took a picture and chose that exact moment to tell them that they had won the superlative of Cutest Couple in the yearbook.

"Hi,"

She jumped and looked up, squinting against the early summer sunlight. Through the brightness, she saw the object of her last thought standing over her, his blonde hair lit on fire by the brilliance of the sun behind him.

"Oh, hey," she greeted him, "I—you found me,"

"Yeah. Sorry, I didn't want to be weird, but I wanted to see you. I came by your house and your mom said you've coming here a lot. Sorry I had to do all that, but—you weren't answering your phone, and I haven't seen you in a while," he explained, "I mean, I get it, you've had a lot going on, but, I don't know, do you need someone to talk to?"

She shook her head, "Um, I did, I guess. I'm better now, though. But thanks,"

"Okay," he sighed, "How have you been dealing with this?"

"You mean how have I been dealing with my dad and my sister dying in a five-car pile-up on my graduation night? How am I dealing with that?"

"Right. That was a stupid question,"

"I mean, it would be better if my mom was actually talking to me about all this. But she'd sucked into work or whatever,"

"Wow. God, that's—that's really not cool," Peeta lowered himself down to sit next to her, "Listen, are you sure you're don't need someone to talk to?"

"I'm fine, Peeta,"

"Alright," he sighed, "I just—we used to talk about a lot of this stuff, you know,"

"I know. I just don't feel like doing it right now," she wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned forward, still looking out at the campus, "I'm getting out of here, you know. I have to. I'm going as far away as I can get,"

"Well, you're going to Boston in a few months, right? That's pretty far away,"

"No, I mean—further. Out of this country. I'm already looking at flights,"

"Out of this country? Katniss—is that a good idea?"

"I can take care of myself if that's what you're worried about. Dad actually left me some money and I already have a little bit of cash in my college fund that scholarships were going to take care of, so I'm using that to get there,"

"Oh. Well if that's what you want, then I'm happy for you. I'll miss you, though,"

"Yeah," she said carefully, "Um, hey, I'm kind of glad you found me. There's been something I've wanted to say to you,"

"Oh? Okay, what is it?"

Her stomach twisted painfully and part of her wanted to swallow the words, while the other part of her wanted to get them out soon as possible.

"Peeta," she began, "I don't think we can be together anymore,"

"What?" he stuttered. He shifted and faced her, although she was using every molecule in her body to keep her gaze away from him, "Did you—are you saying we have to break up?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying,"

"No. No, no, no, God, no. Look, I get it, this is hard. Damn, I know I would be falling apart, too, but, please, I'm here for you, you know I am. If you need some space, I get it, but—Katniss, we don't need to break up,"

"Yes, we do," she said, "Trust me, I do,"

He shook his head, "No. No, you know I'd trust you with anything, but—I can't do that,"

"Why not? People break up all the time," she snapped.

"I—" he stumbled, "What are you worried about? The distance? If you're going away, I can deal with that. We can keep in touch,"

"We're not going to have to worry about the distance. Because we're not going to be together once I'm gone,"

"Don't do this," he said. His tone was growing more concerned, more desperate, "Please, please don't do this. We can't—I can't break up with you,"

"Yes, you can," she huffed.

Peeta was quiet for a moment, and when his voice came back, it was quiet and defeated, but there was still a trace in trace that suggested he was still trying to get through to her.

"But…but I love you,"

She felt her willpower break, and she turned to look at him. She immediately wished she hadn't. The pained look in his blue eyes was like a knife in her gut but she couldn't look away.

"People don't fall in love when they're eighteen, Peeta," she tried to tell him, "They just don't,"

"But we did," he said, "I'm sure we did,"

"Maybe we did," she admitted, "But you can fall in love again,"

She leaned over and pressed her lips against his temple. There was a feeling in her bones that she needed to kiss him one last time, but she kissed him on the lips that could kind of be counter-intuitive to what she was trying to do here.

That, and if she did she knew she would never be able to let him go.

She drew back and met his eyes for a moment before standing up and stepping down on the sidewalk in front of the school.

"What do you want me to do now?" he called after her.

She turned back around and forced herself to be strong as she looked back into his eyes.

"I want you to forget about me,"

"That's not possible,"

She squeezed her eyes closed. Peeta. Beautiful, sweet Peeta. Why was he making this so fucking hard?

"Try," she whispered, reopening her eyes, "Just try, please,"

He swallowed and nodded, "Okay. I'll try,"

"Good," she said. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts and then jogged away from the school, the sound of her sneakers on the sidewalk vibrating in her ears.

She was decided she would leave tomorrow. She had to.

But first had to get to the next block. She needed to cry, and she didn't want to risk him seeing her when she did.

"Katniss, where are you going?"

Her hands froze as they shoved jeans and shirts into her open suitcase. Her mother's voice was coming from the doorway, and instead of turning to face her Katniss went back to shoving clothes into her suitcase, trying to piece together than explanation as she did so.

"Um…I just…I got an email from Boston College today. They're going to take me in fall, early sessions,"

"That's great," Mrs. Everdeen said evenly, "But, as I remember, early sessions don't start until August,"

"Well, yeah,"

"That's two months away, Katniss,"

"I know," she hissed, "I think I just want to get into the city first, you know? Maybe I can get an apartment for a little while before I move into the dorms, get a job so I can cover books and stuff…"

"Are you sure you've been around long enough? Said hello to everyone you wanted to see?"

"I've seen more than I need to of this place, Mom,"

Mrs. Everdeen moved closer into the room and looked around. The space had become much more barren over the last few weeks as Katniss had made several trips to the attic to stow away the old pictures and trophies she no longer wished to look at.

"Is this about Peeta?"

"God, Mom, not everything is about Peeta,"

"Katniss Marie, that does not answer my question,"

She whipped around again as she attempted to press a few more shirts into her bag.

"I need to get out of here, alright? I shouldn't have come back. I'm sorry,"

She went back to her bag, stowing in the last few articles of clothing and then promptly trying to close it. The suitcase was so stuffed she could barely move the zipper a few inches, and she cursed as she pressed down on the top of the suitcase and tried to get it to close.

Silently, Mrs. Everdeen came up behind her and pressed her hand against her daughter's elbow.

"Let me help,"

"No,"

"Katniss, please,"

"You've never been interested in helping me before, why start now?" Katniss snapped.

"You're not the only one realizing your mistakes,"

"Oh, really. That's good to hear," she said, let the sarcasm completely overtake her words. She yanked hard on the zipper and it snapped beneath her hand, "Damn it!"

"Katniss, stop," the older woman shoved her hands away from the bag, "Sit down for a minute,"

She wanted to protest but she felt so worn out she followed her mother's instructions and sat down on the edge of her mattress.

"Alright. Good," Mrs. Everdeen sat next to her and rested a hand on her shoulder, "First, I want to say I'm sorry. I haven't been as present as I should have been over the last year. You—you were always closer to your father, and I didn't know how to connect to you. But I should have tried harder, and I'm sorry about that,"

"Well, thanks, I guess,"

"But I want to talk to you about Peeta,"

"Mom—"

"I know, I know. This isn't entirely about him. I understand. But, it's only been a few days since we saw each other, and you've been so upset the whole time, and I think it's something we need to talk about,"

"What is there to talk about? We broke up. We talked again and it was weird and complicated for both of us," she sighed, "It's over, Mom. That's it,"

"Okay. If that's it, then that's fine. But before you say it's over, you should know I found these upstairs," she said gently. She reached into the deep pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a long white envelope, which she pushed into Katniss' hands.

She looked over at her mother for a possible explanation and then went ahead and opened the flap. She pulled out the contents, set them on her lap, and then couldn't even think before a shocked noise escaped her mouth.

They were the things she'd taken off her wall.

All of them were either pictures she'd taken with Peeta or were paintings he'd made for her. The photographs showed them together in front of the school or sitting on the school's stage together, stealing a quick kiss as someone else snapped a picture. There were the multiple pictures of their senior prom, his tie matching the forest green hue of her dress.

At the end, there were a succession of pictures that showed just Katniss in the middle of a snowbank, first waving to the camera, then falling into the snow, then advancing towards the camera, and then a final picture of the two of them kissing again. She remembered that day. They'd gone out to have a day in the snow in the snow after a big storm, and Peeta had laughed when she fell into a snowbank. She'd been yelling as she advanced towards him, and when she'd finally gotten there he'd just kissed her before she could kick his ass for laughing at her.

The painting felt even more intimate than the pictures, some of them portraits, some of them more abstract, and all of them signed with Peeta's signature and a little note in the corner.

Couldn't stop thinking about you today. Thought I'd sketch it out.

Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you wear this dress?

I love you now and I will forever.

Katniss looked up from the stack and tried to ask her mother where she had gotten these, but Mrs. Everdeen answered her before she could even get the question out.

"You just ripped them off the walls before you left, and I thought maybe I'd save them for you," she offered, rubbing her hand over Katniss's shoulder, "Oh, honey, you still love him, don't you?"

Katniss nodded rapidly, covering her face with her hands.

She did. She really did. She couldn't explain it, really. She was so different from who she had been a year ago, back when her biggest concern was which college to go to. She was so different now that the smallest shred of her that belonged in this town didn't fit even there anymore. But the part of her that loved Peeta was still intact, and even though everything else was different, that part still felt perfectly in place.

"I do, Mom, I do," she admitted, "I just don't know what to do about it,"

"Well, does he know?"

"No. Actually, when we were out on Friday I'm pretty sure I told him the exact opposite,"

"Well," she said with a thoughtful exhale, "I think letting him know would be a good place to start,"

Hey. I'm outside your house.

I guess it's my turn to be the serial killer, huh?

C'mon, Mellark, you gonna make me start throwing pebbles at your window or what?

He didn't expect Katniss's name to come across his phone screen ever again.

It had been less than a week since their last conversation, and he'd already started down the path of mentally preparing himself to never see her again.

And now she was texting him. She was outside his house.

He got out of bed and located the shorts and t-shirt he'd worn yesterday and threw them on. His shorts still had flour stains on them from his shift at the bakery, but he hoped that she wouldn't notice. Maybe she would and she would laugh and this entire thing would be easier. Fuck. He needed to get outside.

He jogged out into the hallway and down the stairwell, and then out the front door. He thought he could keep running forever, until he collided with her, but he froze as soon as he got outside.

She was there, alright, standing right in the middle of the walkway up to his house. She had her hair tied up today, and was wearing a pair of olive green shorts and a t-shirt the color of a robin's egg.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

"Hi," she said softly. She shifted her feet on the brick walkway like she was afraid it was going to hurt her, "Um, you probably don't want to see me,"

"You'd be shocked how much I do want to see you, actually," he took another step out, so he was standing on the deck, "Do you want to come inside?"

"How 'bout you meet me halfway instead?"

"Alright," he went down the steps and onto the walkway, and she in turn took a few steps down the path, into they were finally about a foot away from each other.

"I came by to say that I'm sorry," she said quickly, wrapping her arms around her waist. She used to do that before confronting their old asshole of a chem teacher about her grades. It was an signature defensive move of hers.

"It's okay. I've kind of, um, worked through it, I guess," he said, "I mean—it's fine. I'm sorry if I freaked you out,"

"Stop apologizing. That's my job right now, remember?"

"Right. Sorry. I mean, fuck—don't—ignore me,"

She rolled her eyes but kept her arms wrapped around her. The day's light breeze blew between them, making a few loose wisps of hair fly into her face. He tried to resist the urge to memorize the way it looked. He had to stop constantly thinking about sketching her.

"I got into Boston College. Early admission in the fall," she told him. She unwrapped her arms from her waist, although her hands quickly found each other and she twisted her fingers together, "You know, I was packing my bag earlier. I was too late to apply for summer sessions but I thought maybe I could go and get settled. Explore before I got sucked into the coursework,"

Peeta's heart dropped into his stomach.

"You're leaving?"

"I was going to," she admitted, "But then I thought I owed you a goodbye. And then I realized I can't say good-bye to you,"

"Isn't that what you're doing right now?"

"No, I'm not," she took a step closer to him, and he could hear her breath shaking as she closed the friendly space between them, "I'm giving you an explanation. Or, I'm going to try to give you an explanation,"

He was silent, but tilted his head. Okay, go ahead.

"After the accident, I couldn't deal with this place. I ran away, I know, and I kind of wish I hadn't. But there was too much pain in this place, and so I just had to cut everything out before I left, including you. But—I had to come back because I wanted to make sure I could be in this town and not feel anything anymore. That being away had taken away all the shitty stuff and now this was just another place. A place I recognized, yeah, but nothing more,"

"How'd that work out?"

"It didn't. Shocking, I know,"

He laughed drily, and she looked, her lips quirking into a smile for just a moment.

"I still saw Dad and Prim everywhere. Especially in my house. That's why I've barely been there the whole time I've been back. I kept seeing them sitting at the kitchen table or running around in the backyard, and then I saw myself with them, and it was just unbearable, because I couldn't tell if those memories were fading or more vivid than ever and both sucked," she shifted in place, and she brought her gaze up from the ground to meet his eyes.

"But then I walked outside of my house, and I kept seeing you,"

"Me?"

She nodded, "You're everywhere in this town, Peeta. Every day I'd drive past the diner where you took me on our first date, or walk through the parks where you used to take me on Saturdays to study for psychology, or go past Madge's house, where we took our prom pictures and you had to catch me from falling after my high heel caught on a crack in the sidewalk,"

He smiled briefly at the memory, but then saw how shaky her expression was and the corners of his mouth immediately dropped. He took an instinctive step closer to her, and knew as he did that they were beyond saving any personal space.

"It's funny, actually, because sometimes seeing you kind of sucked more than seeing my Dad and Prim, because I wanted to block Panem out, and that was easy when there was nothing here but pain. But it got a little harder to do when I realized that I had been happy here, too. And you made me really happy,"

She paused once she finished, "So I left because I wanted to forget, and then I came back just to realize that I couldn't. But I came to see you because I'm done forgetting now. I know that I remember everything, and I'm fighting it anymore,"

She looked into his eyes, and he was caught by just how close she was. He could make out each individual lash on her eyes, could feel her breath against his neck.

"Thank you for not forgetting, either,"

"You know I couldn't do that,"

"Right," she smiled, "Can we try again?"

"Of course we can," he slid his tongue across his lips and let his words rush out, "Are you—you're going to stay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm staying right here,"

Her slender arms reached out and wrapped around his shoulders and she tried to pull herself closer to him, despite the fact that there was no room between them to close anymore.

"I'm staying with you,"

He ducked his head and their lips crashed together as she was getting out the last word. Her mouth was warm and tasted like vanilla and his eyes burned at how good it felt.

She was going to stay. They were going to try again. They were kissing on his front lawn and he was close to tears and didn't even care.

She pulled away and whispered into his ear, asking if she could come inside.

They sat in his room and hours slipped past as she told him all the stories from Brazil, and he told her everything from Capitol, and then they were kissing again, and she was pulling off her shirt and his lips pressing covering the warm, smooth expanse of her stomach.

"I don't have anything," he tried to tell her.

"It's okay. This is—this is fine for now," she said. She tucked her head under his chin and pressed her hand against his chest, right over his hammering heartbeat, "I love you, Peeta," she mumbled into his skin.

"I love you, too," he told her, kissing the crown of her head, "Welcome home, Katniss,"