Hey everyone! Long time no see. Not sure if anything out there is still reading this, but I've been writing bits and pieces of this for the past few months and finally decided to pull the trigger over the Thanksgiving holiday. It's definitely not my best work, but please let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from any readers that have stayed around.

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Chapter Fifteen: Why can't you wait? I'm not gonna give it a break

Clove woke up the next morning, head throbbing and eyes crusting. She could feel the makeup caked to her face—a sure sign she went to bed haphazardly, as she always made a point to wipe off her makeup before going to sleep. What happened last night? Her head felt like it was swimming, her brain swishing in some thick syrup or oil while struggling to connect the synapses. She didn't remember much past beer pong if she was being honest, and she squinted as she rolled over in the covers.

What. the. hell. She looked down to find herself wearing a mysterious shirt, definitely belonging to a male and definitely not wearing a bra underneath. Fuck. She gulped when she saw the familiar insignia: North Hills Varsity Soccer. Things were not looking good, and she contemplated just going back to sleep and pretending nothing was wrong.

Nevertheless, she looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was in the master bedroom of the Plaza penthouse suite, and a girl was curled up on the leather couch in the room. "Annie!" Clove whisper-screamed. "Annie, are you awake?"

Annie rolled over to face her, face bleary but clutching her phone—it looked like she had just been scrolling through Instagram. "Yeah, are you?"

"What happened last night?"

Sitting up, Annie rubbed her eyes slowly. "You mean you don't remember?"

Fighting back impatience and the urge to shout in exasperation, "No! What happened? Where is everyone?"

"Everyone started to pass out around three or four in the morning I think…when I fell asleep I think some people were watching Legally Blonde outside in the main room." Annie hesitated, "You were pretty upset last night, what do you remember?"

Clove fumbled for some water by the nightstand that someone had left. "I remember…. playing that dumb Johanna drinking game… and then I was in the bathroom…. on the floor maybe?...and then… oh God."

Annie sat up quickly, eyes sharpening at the prospect of juicy information. "Tell me what happened with Cato! You wouldn't say anything last night, you just locked yourself in this room and wouldn't come out."

Clove sighed, "I don't remember exactly… we fought, I don't know." It was slowly coming back to her, but she wasn't sure what she wanted to disclose any information without first piecing together everything by herself.

"You didn't have sex with him, did you?"

Clove frowned and then gulped. "I don't think so?" She didn't feel like she did, but she had been very drunk… but weren't you supposed to feel different afterwards? "I might be wearing his shirt I'm not sure what that means."

Annie's mouth fell open. "I hope you didn't! You were both so drunk…he wouldn't have…. oh my God." She was texting furiously before Clove could say anything.

"Annie! Don't text him about this, Jesus Christ!"

But Annie just ignored her, frowning at her screen as the ellipses popped up. Her brow smoothed. "He said you two didn't do anything. And that's Peeta's shirt apparently."

"I can't believe you texted Cato asking that! God." Clove buried her head in the fluffy down pillow dramatically, mind working as fast as it could in its hungover state. What exactly happened last night? Why did she kiss him? Did she throw herself at him? Clove remembered stripping down to her underwear in front of Cato, and she winced. What the hell was wrong with her?

"I guess it makes sense that its Peeta's shirt—he was the only one you let into the room to talk with you for a little bit, and I think he calmed you down. That's how I got in here to check on you before I fell asleep on the couch."

Clove propped herself on her elbow and tried to put it all out of her mind, "True, you've been there all night. Come lay here with me." Annie giggled and hauled herself up to shuffle over to the bed. She pitched herself on top of the covers, purposefully jostling Clove before burrowing into the sheets. "Bitch," Clove snorted. "How do you still look so cute? I remember you were really drunk during that game."

Annie shrugged, her brown curls kept neat in a fishtail braid. "I like to bring my own flannel pajamas to these after parties, the hotel rooms get so cold."

Clove laughed, "Annie, you're such a grandma."

"Oh my gosh, wait you have to see this Insta Bonnie Silverman posted—I didn't see her dress last night but it was so scandalous." Both girls fished out their phones and started browsing and critiquing the hits and misses from Homecoming last night. "Aw, Katniss just posted one of you and her!"

Clove checked her notifications, opening up the boomerang selfie Katniss had snapped with Clove standing behind her with a faux deadpan look sipping on some champagne while staring directly into the camera. 'When you're the belle of the ball but you're still not impressed.' She smiled and double tapped, thumbs racing to type out a witty comment. 'Just jealous you weren't my date, don't mind me!" She glanced at the numbers underneath the picture, pleased that it was already in the three digits.

"Finnick just texted me, he wants to know if we want anything from room service from breakfast."

"Hmmm maybe some toast and a smoothie? I don't know if I can handle anything else right now." Annie nodded in agreement and texted back a response. The reminder that Finnick and the rest of the boys were probably camped up in the living room outside filled Clove with dread and anxiety. What exactly had happened last night? She was remembering more and more, but couldn't connect it all.

And how was she going to do damage control? Her mind flew from one scenario to the next, but she realized with growing horror that she would need to sort through the events and go over the official story with Cato—which would almost definitely be painfully awkward. She gulped, pulling up his number. His name, before almost always the first one to pop up in iMessage, hadn't been accessed in the last month. The last texts between them had been a terse and weird exchange of her asking if she had left one of her practice field hockey sticks in his car—it must have been when they had been secretly hooking up in parking lots the first week of school. A lot had happened in the last two months, more than she could keep track of—especially now that her head seemed insistent on drumming a heavy beat between her ears. She swallowed thickly, composing the message:

So, I don't remember exactly what went down last night. Care to give me a refresher?

She sent it quickly before she could second-guess herself and immediately regretted it. Why did she have to make herself sound like an awkward, desperate pervert? She quickly typed a second text:

So we can keep our stories straight.

Clove was fairly certain they had gotten up to no good, as it seemed like they couldn't help themselves whenever they were alone together. They didn't have sex, which was a relief. Or was it? Clove couldn't stop from feeling a little disappointed when she heard they hadn't, but she couldn't really bring herself to analyze why. Her breathing hitched when she saw the grey ellipses pop up on her screen, but they went away quickly. Again, the ellipses appeared and reappeared, four or five more times. What did it all mean? He was plotting his next maneuver, and Clove felt a pang of nostalgia for when they never had to think hard about what to say to each other. Finally, he responded:

We fooled around when I first got here, after arguing. Then we argued some more.

About what?

A pause from his end. You wanted to have sex but I said you were too drunk. Then other stuff.

Clove winced once again, embarrassed at the recollection of her own desperation. Lashing out, she quickly typed back: Would the other stuff be you dragging me into a bedroom when you have a "girlfriend"

No response. After five minutes of glaring at her phone, Clove sighed, rolled over, and squeezed her eyes shut—willing herself into a fitful sleep

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'I can't do this anymore'…. 'We need time apart.'…. 'You… always you.' Cato groaned and roughly rubbed his face, throwing his phone behind him on the couch in the living room. He couldn't stop thinking about the last words he had exchanged with Clove last night before he slammed the door behind him. Had he meant them? 'We're toxic together.' He had immediately regretted the ugly words he had thrown at her when he was drunk, but Clove had always been able to get under his skin better than anyone else.

She's also the only one who can calm you down, which would be very helpful right now. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, almost reveling in the dull throbbing between his ears that temporarily distracted him. Maybe it was better if they did try to steer clear from each other. He sat up, cracking his back and his neck before hauling himself off the plush sectional. "I'm gonna get going, Finn."

Finnick's head popped up from where he had been sprawled out watching animal friendship videos on his phone. "What? The food's gonna get here any minute!"

Cato shrugged as he pulled on a pair of jogger pants he had thankfully remembered to pack yesterday. He shrugged on his North Hills Prep soccer sweatshirt. Finnick surveyed him carefully, "You know, I'm on your side, right?"

He looked up at the other boy and squinted. "What?"

"Whatever is going on between you and Clove, all the shit that's been going on the last few months… I got your back. You know if you ever want to talk…" The copper-haired boy, normally so eloquent, stumbled over his words in a clumsy attempt to support his friend.

Snorting, Cato bent down to tie on his shoes. This whole thing was being blown out of proportion. There shouldn't be even be sides, he and Clove were meant to be on the same side—or at least they always had been before. "Don't get soft on me, Odair."

Finnick looked away. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for room service?" He fumbled for something to fill the silence, "Look, I'm just saying she can be a handful, okay?"

Cato clenched his fist tightly to stop himself from an outburst. He was sick of not knowing what to say about Clove anymore. The truth was, the girl drove him absolutely insane. He couldn't think straight, and Finnick calling her a handful was being extremely generous. But at the same time, she brought out the best in him and centered him like no one else could. How did he hide his feelings for so long? He said it himself the night before: he had been in love with her for the better part of seven years. Now that shit had hit the fan, he had no idea how he and Clove had kept everything bottled up—when every day since then, he felt on the verge of exploding. "No thanks, I'm not hungry anymore."

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"Food's here!"

Johanna rubbed her eyes and rolled over to find a sleeping Grant Aldridge in bed next to her. She sighed and carefully extricated herself from under his arm, pulling on a t-shirt dress before shuffling outside. Peeta sat at the counter of the bar, sipping on some tea, while Finnick tipped the bellhop who had brought the overflowing cart of food. "Is there anything for me?"

Finnick slid a plate over to her, "Here, I know you like the croissant sandwiches from the Plaza."

"Has anyone told you that you're a beautiful human being lately?" She bit into the sandwich and moaned appreciatively. "That hits the spot."

"Speaking of hitting the spot, I noticed that you brought Aldridge back with you last night," Finnick smirked. He held up his hand for a high five from Peeta, who ignored him and continued to eat some pancakes with whipped strawberry butter.

Johanna swallowed, "I mean, he was my date last night. I actually felt bad that I forgot about him during the dance." She kicked Finnick's shin under the table, "Also, I'll have you know that we did not have sex. Proud of me?"

Peeta rolled his eyes, "I'm sure that's not what he's going to tell all the guys in the locker room tomorrow."

"They can think what they want, you know I don't care about idle gossip."

Finnick tossed a fry into his mouth, "That won't stop us all from wanting to punch him in the mouth for lying." Peeta nodded in agreement. "Why don't you care more about your reputation?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "You're venturing dangerously close to slut-shaming territory, Odair, I suggest you tread carefully."

Peeta held up a hand, "No fighting, please? I am running on very little sleep at the moment, and I don't want to have to take care of you after Johanna kicks your ass."

The copper-haired boy pouted and acquiesced. Suddenly, he remembered something else and perked up. "Running on very little sleep because of Miss Everdeen, or because you were up late comforting Clove?"

Johanna rolled her eyes, "You're such a gossip, Finnick." Nonetheless, she turned to face Peeta expectantly.

"The latter," he spoke carefully. "She was still pretty drunk last night, and upset too." He stopped talking to slowly cut himself another bite of pancake. "These pancakes are decent."

"… That's really all you're gonna say?" Finnick whined.

"Yeah, Peeta, why are you so much of a better person than us?" Johanna teased.

"It's not my story to tell," Peeta insisted. "You can ask them yourselves if you want to know so bad!" He focused his sole attention on his pancakes, but his mouth twitched upwards slightly at Finnick and Johanna's exasperated expressions.

"Oh please," Johanna rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. "You know they won't tell us—they don't even know what's going on themselves. Who knew Cato finally getting laid was going to cause these many problems."

Finnick protested, "This is not his fault! Clove's the one being unreasonable, she's acting crazy! Barely hidden jealousy is not going to get either of them anywhere!"

Johanna bit back a smile, "Oh yeah, Finnick? You didn't think that 'barely hidden jealousy' was such a bad look yourself sophomore year when Annie and Peeta dated."

"Low blow, Mason!" But Finnick looked pensive as he re-evaluated the mess his friends had found themselves in. Cato was arguably his best friend, besides Annie, and he knew how much the last few months had taken a toll on him. But maybe it had been just as hard on Clove? Finnick had always thought the whole saga could have been avoided if Clove could just get over Cato's mistake, but what could be done now? It had been Clove who nudged Annie in his direction after Peeta and Annie had finally broken up after ten long, painful months, and Finnick felt a pang of remorse that he had been so uncharitable to one of his first and closest friends.

Meanwhile, Peeta choked a little on his pancake, eyes bulging and darting, bringing Finnick out of his thoughts. The fact that Annie and Peeta had dated and had lost their virginities to each other was something usually everyone in the group was very good at not bringing up. "Can we not bring up ancient history? Jesus, everyone's getting so worked up lately."

Finnick patted Peeta on the back, thumping him and dislodging the food from his airway. "Relax Mellark, it's water under the bridge. I guess some of us," he threw a pointed, half-joking glance at Johanna chortling away, "—know how to behave ourselves."

The front door to the suite swung open again, diverting the bickering three's attention momentarily. Marvel and Katniss walked in, both of their dark hairdos slightly damp. "And where have you two been?" Johanna inquired, "—and why do you look healthy and functional?"

Katniss dumped her stuff on the ground, "We were the only ones up this morning so we went to the gym and the steam room downstairs on the mezzanine."

Everyone else in the living room gave them blank stares. "Are you guys on uppers or something?" Finnick finally asked.

"Ha ha," Marvel deadpanned. "Kat woke me up this morning when she was looking for a phone charger, and it was already 10…. Anyways, we ran into Cato in the lobby about to head out, what's up with him?

Katniss nodded and continued in a hushed voice, "Yeah, have we figured out what the deal was yesterday?"

"Well, we were trying to!" Finnick started dramatically before being shushed by Katniss, "…but your boyfriend has decided to take a vow of silence." Katniss threw an affectionate look at Peeta, who had continued to innocently eat his pancakes this whole time.

Before any of them could get another word out, they heard the master bedroom door open. "Good morning everyone!" Annie chirped cheerfully. It could have just been a simple greeting, but it was more likely a warning that Clove was about to make an entrance and all gossip should cease immediately.

Clove had since changed into a pair of leggings and a long sleeve North Hills field hockey tee. She briskly walked over to the room service cart, subtly and quickly sweeping the room with her eyes in all corners for Cato's presence before letting her shoulders relax. She picked up a bowl of fruit and sat down on the couch primly. "Since the gang's all here, I don't want to hear any questions about last night, got it?"

She could practically hear the pout in Finnick's voice, "But…"

"I would like to eat my breakfast in peace," she said firmly.

Finnick wouldn't be so easily subdued, "He's not even here though! He dipped this morning, and he wouldn't say anything either. Why can't either of you just talk to us, instead of keeping us all in the dark like this!" Annie tried to calm him down, but he brushed her off. "This doesn't just affect you two you know, this is affecting all of us." Finnick let out a deep sigh as he ran out of steam, "Just… just let us help you figure this out."

Clove softened a little, and everyone noticed her posture relax. It was quiet for a few seconds, and everyone waited with bated breath, before she whipped around, cheeks flaming. "And what exactly do you want me to do? Cato has a girlfriend now, genius." Clove had chosen going on the defensive. "He's made it really clear that I should just get on with my life, and that's what I'm trying to do—if people would just let me!"

Katniss interrupted, "Clove's right, leave her alone. It's not fair for us to gang up on her like this, just let her be."

Finnick shook his head, "We've been saying to just give her and Cato time to sort things out, and that is obviously not working. What, are we just supposed to prepare for World War III to break out every time they're in a room together? Clo, he still cares about you—just because he's fucking someone else-" This time Annie successfully stopped Finnick from continuing by stomping on his foot, but the damage had been done.

Clove swallowed thickly and willed herself to keep her breathing steady. She had figured that Cato had been sleeping with Jacqueline, but some part of her had held on hope. But hope for what exactly? Even she couldn't really say.

Clearing her throat, she finally responded, "I'm so glad you've all been talking behind my back about how my life is inconveniencing everyone. Now, I have to get back to North Hills to plan the holiday charity auction, does anyone want to ride back together?"

No one answered for a few shocked seconds, all suffering from major conversation whiplash. Finally, Johanna sprung up, "I'll come?"

"Awesome, I'll grab our stuff from the big room." Clove strode back to the master bedroom without a single glance back, leaving everyone to turn and glare at Finnick silently.

"Well, I think that went well," Marvel said wryly.

"Yeah, what the hell, Finnick!" Katniss whispered heatedly.

"Okay, okay, you guys can yell at me all you want, I was just trying to help-" He broke off again suddenly as Clove made her way back with her and Johanna's overnight bags. He gulped as Clove fixed her dark eyes on him.

"Finnick, I just want you to know that I'm not mad at you or anything" she cocked her head. "I'm sorry that this has been affecting you all, it's so dumb and such a waste of time," she rolled her eyes and shook her long glossy waves out. "Anyways, I'll see you all at school tomorrow?" Johanna trailed behind her, frowning at Finnick one last time before shutting the door behind the two girls.

Finnick cleared his throat, "Well, I think it could have gone worse."

Annie chewed on her lip, "I just hope everything works out for the best…. whatever that might be."

The group sat in uneasy silence, all drawn into their own thoughts. Suddenly, they heard a door open down the hallway. Grant Aldridge stumbled into the living room, yawning, "Has anyone seen Johanna?"

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Monday morning came a little bit too quickly for everyone. Katniss and Annie sat on the front steps prattling on about the newest Taylor Swift music video, pretending they weren't checking worriedly for the next Windsor-Einhardt showdown that was sure to unfold. At exactly 8:05, Clove stepped through the crowd with a new blowout and lowlights. To anyone else, it would seem that she came out of Homecoming weekend looking better than ever. More importantly, she looked more determined than before, if that were even possible.

"Uh oh," Katniss mumbled. "Hurricane Clove approaching from the east." And like a perfect storm, Cato walked in with Johanna and Finnick from the west parking lot entrance. "This is not going to be good."

Annie nervously toyed with her necklace, "They haven't seen each other since Homecoming, right?"

Katniss shrugged, eyes darting between the two, "Who knows with them two. They could be back to their hooking up phase in the cycle by now."

Thankfully, Peeta and Marvel walked down the stairs behind them, and the group of friends all converged neatly instead of the dramatic face-off that Katniss and Annie had feared. Marvel cleared his throat, "So, is everyone ready for midterms coming up?" He shifted from foot to foot to stave off the brisk fall weather.

It was a weak attempt at conversation, and Clove expected better from Marvel Carraway, but she took pity on him and took the nudge. "Yeah, Katniss, Peeta, do you want to do the practice sets for Chem together during study hall?"

Everyone relaxed a little that this conversation at least could be fairly harmless, and Clove felt a pang of guilt for forcing her friends to walk on eggshells for the past few months. She resolved to keep the peace and play nice for once—or at least try to. She bit her lip and focused on trying to stay engaged in the conversation, making sure to nod and laugh at the right times—but try as she might she couldn't help but stay hyperaware to whether or not she was acting weird. Was she looking at Cato too much, or avoiding looking over there altogether? She never got around to hashing out the finer details of their last encounter, and she was vaguely worried about that loose end... But she got the gist of it. She was wasting her time practically throwing herself at a boy that had made it distinctly clear that he didn't need her.

She always had been acutely in control of her actions, and what happened on Saturday terrified her. Sure, she had been more than a little drunk, but she remembered her desire for Cato, and everything he brought with him, as eclipsing everything else. But quickly after the desire followed the embarrassment and the hurt, ebbing within her with a visceral ache.

…Why was she not good enough? Every day Cato toyed with her emotions was a reminder that she was enough to play with but ultimately not enough to fight for.

…And that brought all her insecurities, so carefully buried under a 4.0 GPA and shiny smiles and everything meant to symbolize a perfect life, into stark clarity as well. The more you wanted something, the easier it was to slip away. It wasn't even really about Cato, not really-

"Clove, what about you?" Katniss asked.

Clove blinked, but ultimately recovered quickly. "Say that again, Kat?"

"When's your Yale interview?"

"In two weeks, I think? First week of November."

Johanna laughed, "Two weeks, 'you think'? You say that as if you haven't planned out this interview since we were all eleven."

She shot back, "If we've been talking about this since we were eleven, how did you forget to apply early anywhere?"

Any other person might have been offended by the retort, but Johanna just shrugged it off, "I couldn't decide where I wanted to be next year. I'll just apply in December."

"How did your dad take that?" Peeta asked curiously. "Doesn't he want you to go to Harvard?"

Johanna shrugged, "That would require him to talk to me more than 5 minutes a week over the phone."

Finnick bumped shoulders with her in a show of camaraderie. "You're preaching to the choir, I haven't talked to my parents since September."

Clove sipped at her chai latte, "I'd mention that the last time my mom and I spoke, she said I breathed too loud, but I think 8 AM is a bit early to get into parental neglect." She directed her next question right at Cato, "Cato, when's your Princeton interview?"

Everyone sucked in a quick surprised intake of breath. Annie, for one, couldn't even remember the last time Clove had spoken in a normal tone of voice to Cato. Cato startled a little, like he couldn't believe this diplomacy. "Uh, same as you—in November. What day do you have it? Mine's on Thursday." He hazarded a look up.

"Tuesday." Their eyes met for an electric moment, and Clove just gave a half-shrug to him, as if saying truce? His mouth pulled up on the corner as if it couldn't help himself. Clove prayed that a day would come when her heart wouldn't flutter with the sight of that half-smirk.

.

Their crew was sprawled out over two of the student lounge's prime tables. Much to everyone's annoyance, Grant Aldridge was still hanging around, hopeful that he'd have another shot at bedding Johanna. She didn't seem to care much either way, tolerating his presence when he brought tater tots for her to eat while she bent over Marvel's sheaths of notes, scribbling her own shorthand in her own notebook in preparation for the Proofs weekly notebook check that afternoon.

Marvel watched worriedly from a few seats down, "Careful," he called in a slightly strangled voice. "They're in a specific order!"

She rolled her eyes, "Don't get your Calvin Kleins in a twist, Carraway." Maybe she hadn't meant anything about the comment, but Katniss caught how Johanna just added slightly too much detail about Marvel's underwear. Annie noticed too, and the two girls shared an amused but disapproving look over her antics.

Sure enough, Grant's posture stiffened, and Johanna smirked behind the long tresses of her hair. Marvel didn't seem too fazed by the comment, just sighing and turning away so that he wouldn't have to see Johanna decimating his hours of work.

Clove and Peeta were also bent over a laptop, arguing over which animation to use for their AP History presentation. It had been a week since Clove and Cato's unspoken truce, and things had been going decidedly… okay. They were even sitting across from each other today at the table, avoiding extended eye contact, but not exchanging blows—so decidedly okay.

Cato finished his burger, thinking about how his parents were dragging him out to eat again with Jacqueline's family. The sheer desperation his parents radiated disgusted him, but they also hadn't been riding his ass nearly as much lately, so he tolerated it.

He even had started to have a soft spot for Jacqueline. While the way she agreed to pretty much everything he suggested meant that he would never be able to take her seriously, she was easy to talk to, and sometimes it was easier to go with the flow than feel like you have to fight for every second.

He hadn't meant to sleep with her. Cato knew how hollow it sounded, especially with what happened with Glimmer maybe starting all of this mess in the first place. But his parents had pushed him to ask her out on a date right after Clove had found about Jacqueline. His parents had told him quite pointedly over the phone that they were out of town at another investor meeting, practically telling him to bring her back home with him—which had felt more than a little of gross, but he hadn't had enough fight in him after Clove had pretty much told him that there was no chance for a future for the two of them. And Jacqueline had been there, so sweet and easy…he had needed comfort, and he needed someone to want him, and she had been more than happy to oblige.

That didn't stop him from feeling just a little guilty about the whole thing though. Jacqueline didn't know how much of this had been orchestrated by his parents, or how he couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting from her to a certain dark-haired beauty, and how each time he had wished it was her underneath him instead. It was so fucked up—what was wrong with him?

He was drawn from his thoughts by Finnick nudging him. "What do you think, dude?"

Cato swallowed. "What's up?"

Grant cleared his throat, "I'm having a Halloween thing at my house this weekend, how about it?"

He shrugged, "Could be fun." It was a vague enough response that left the door open either way.

Grant nodded. "Ladies?" He slung an arm over Johanna casually yet somehow proprietarily, "See you there, Carraway?"

Marvel honestly could care less who Johanna was sleeping with, but he didn't care for the way Grant was practically engulfing her at the lunch table. "Oh, I don't make the decisions around here," he grinned guilelessly, deflecting perfectly.

"Oh, trust me, I know."

Marvel was acutely aware that all his friends were watching out of the corners of their eyes for his reaction to Grant's provocation. Before he could get a word in, Johanna shrugged Aldridge's arm off her thin shoulders. "You're messing up my notes." Johanna stole a glance over at Marvel, throwing a not-so-subtle wink as the tension shifted.

Grant tugged at her arm, "What was that?" he whispered.

"What?" she mouthed back innocently, feigning ignorance before turning back to the group. "Grant said some actor is going to be there!"

That got everyone's attention. As above it all they pretended to be, they couldn't deny the allure of celebrities. "Who is it?" Annie asked.

"Caleb Elgort? He's friends with my cousin in California. He's been in a few movies-"

He was cut off by Annie's squeal. "He was in 'The Hanging Tree'! Oh my god, I love him!" She tugged at Finnick's arm, "Finn, Finn, Finnick, we have to go."

Finnick chuckled at his beloved girlfriend's antics, "Count us in then, Grant."

Annie pleased, turned to Clove and Katniss, "Guys, you have to come! It'll be so fun. Clove, you liked that movie, remember?"

Clove remembered liking it, and how handsome Caleb Elgort had been on the big screen. She was curious to see how different he looked without all the Hollywood editing. But she had her Yale interview two days after that, and she had a feeling it might not be the best idea with the unsteady truce that had been drawn. "I don't know…" She glanced over at Katniss for a gauge of her enthusiasm. Katniss shrugged as if saying, your move.

"Fine," she sighed. "But I have my interview two days after that, so I'm not going to be any fun-"

She was cut off by Grant, which was annoying enough to begin with, but to her horror, "Cato, you should bring your new girlfriend too." Her eyes bulged slightly before she could stop herself. Shit. There was nothing she could do about it now. Her eyes caught Cato's in panic, sharing a loaded look before tearing her eyes away. It's not like he could help her anyways.

Katniss rushed in, "Maybe, we can be the Spice Girls? Yes, Clove didn't you want to do that?" She kicked Johanna from underneath the table.

Johanna startled, "Yes, yes. That would be…. fun?"

Clove smiled at her friends' transparent attempts to keep the peace. "Fine, but only if Johanna is Scary Spice." She dodged a tater tot with an indignant gasp.

"As if I'd want to be anyone else!"

.

Clove sighed and cocked her head at the mirror, as she adjusted her black silk minidress. Calling over her shoulder, "Kat, could you pass me my lipstick?"

Katniss waltzed over, looking trim and annoyingly comfortable in a cropped athletic tank top and jogger pants. "Whoa, very posh of you, Clove! You look gorgeous, dahling." she said in a terrible British accent. She smoothed out her high ponytail braid behind Clove in the mirror.

Clove fiddled with the satin ankle straps on her black Louboutins, "And very sporty of you, your waist is so small, I'm so jealous," she laughed. "Is everyone else done changing?" She sat down at the vanity and touched up her dark-stained pout and smoothed out her hair, wore down stick-straight and glossy tonight.

"Yeah, I think Annie's calling Madge to make sure she's got the memo—she's meeting us there with Gale." There was the elephant in the room that the red-headed Jacqueline would have been clearly a better candidate for Ginger Spice, but there wasn't enough money in the world to make Katniss bring it up. "You want something to drink? I think I'm going to need a buzz before we get there."

Clove pointed to the side table in her, "Help yourself. I have to make sure I don't drink too much tonight." Katniss opened up the decanter and poured herself a hearty glug of some sure-to-be-expensive wine.

"And where's the fun in that?" Johanna pranced into Clove's bathroom, hip checking Katniss to tousle her own hair in the mirror. She flipped her hair down, shook it wildly before flipping it up dramatically. "Do I look scaryyyy?" she smiled, baring her bright teeth in a grimace.

"Jesus Christ, Jo," Katniss shook her head before finishing her wine. "Are you trying to kill the senior boys? You look hot."

Clove scoffed, "How can even fucking leopard print look good on you?"

Johanna wore a skintight leopard jumpsuit with thigh high suede boots with jagged stiletto heels. The neckline plunged generously, revealing a view of her generous cleavage and lacy black bralette, along with her perfectly flat abs. Clove squinted at her gorgeous friend, torn between jealousy and intense gratitude that Johanna and Cato had never been even the slightest bit interested in each other.

"She's trying to look good for Maaarveeeel," Annie teased in a singsong voice. She joined the other girls in the bathroom in a bright colored shift dress and thigh high boots as well. She had fastened her long brown tresses in high pigtails, and she seemed to enjoy swinging them back and forth against her cheeks. "Guys!" she squealed, "we all look so cute together!"

Johanna flicked one of Annie's pigtails, "Excuse me, I am NOT trying to impress Marvel. Just because we slept together once does not mean he is my keeper."

Clove smirked, "Well, you clearly didn't make this effort for Grant Aldridge."

Groaning, Johanna hopped onto the counter by the sink, "If I knew this was going to be brought up for the next hundred years, I never would have made that stupid bet in the first place. No matter what I do, is it going to be tied to him from now on?"

Katniss laughed, "Pretty much, yes."

"So if I completely ignore him, that's just me playing hard-to-get."

"Yup."

"And if I talk to him, that's me trying to seduce him."

"You betcha." The girls burst out laughing at the sad truth.

Johanna pouted, "This is very anti-feminist of all of you, I'd like to point that out. What happened to the sex-positive environment Gloria Steinem promised us?"

Clove chimed in, "I'll drink to that, if I were drinking tonight."

Annie rounded on Clove, "And why the tight reins? It's not because of-"

"No!" Clove rolled her eyes. "I have my Yale interview in like two days! And God knows someone has to stay sober for you idiots."

"Do you think Caleb Elgort will really be there?" Annie sighed dreamily. "I'm not going to drink either, I don't want to embarrass myself."

Johanna laughed, "Yeah Clove, maybe you can rebound with Mr. Hollywood! That would be too funny. I bet you-know-who would have a fucking conniption." Clove rolled her eyes, but let her mind drift towards how delicious it would be to see Cato's reaction to that. It would serve him right.

Katniss groaned, "No more talk about boys, please? This is failing the Bechdel test on so many levels."

"Fine, fine, fine," Johanna swatted away Katniss's whining, before snatching the wine glass from her hand. "But one more thing," she finished the glass before hopping off the counter. "Just repeat after me, Clove." She placed her hands on the shorter girl's shoulders so they faced each other with faux-serious looks. "Cato Einhardt is a dumbass."

Clove rolled her eyes yet again, but repeated with a not-quite-concealed smile. "Cato Einhardt is a dumbass."

"I will not let him get under my skin."

She closed her eyes and willed herself to make it true. "I will not let him get under my skin."

"I am a strong, independent, fierce woman who don't need no man."

"I am a strong, independent, fierce woman who don't need no man."

"I will instead have wild, irresponsible sex with Caleb Elgort not for anyone else, but for myself."

Clove snorted. "Johanna-"

"Say it!" Johanna grabbed her chin and forced her to stare deep into her eyes.

"I will instead have wild, irresponsible… oh my god… irresponsible sex with Caleb Elgort."

"For myself," Johanna prompted, undeterred.

Clove could not fight the smile off her face at her friend's ridiculous antics. "For myself."

Johanna smiled and dropped her hands from Clove's shoulders. "Good. Feel better?"

And amazingly, she kind of did. "Wait," Johanna jerked her back once more. "AND Johanna does not 'like' Marvel Carraway."

Clove shook loose with a wriggle, "Jo, I'm not going to lie." The girls all burst out laughing as Johanna pretended to throttle Clove.

.

They had been there scarcely 30 minutes before Clove was already regretting her decision to make an appearance. She was tired and not in the mood for all the bumping and jostling and grinding around her. Granted her Queen Bee status ensured that no one would dare invade her personal space too much, but it was still not enough. We really need another plague, Clove observed boredly, staring disdainfully at the masses from her spot near the hallway to the balcony. After taking group pictures with everyone assembled, the novelty of her slinky black costume had worn off—which is how she found herself in the little nook, wishing she was binging Netflix on her couch instead of avoiding Cato and his girlfriend at all costs.

Speaking of, Annie and Cato approached her on the way back from the beverages table, and she straightened out her spine. Annie pressed a cup into her hand, "I know you're not drinking, but I got you some jungle juice watered with club soda, just in case."

Clove smiled gratefully, happy to have something to grip in her hand. She flicked her dark eyes once towards Cato, looking unfairly gorgeous in a lifeguard getup. Jacqueline was nowhere to be seen, so Clove let her eyes linger on the sinew of his bicep for a half-second longer before resolutely facing towards Annie. Of course, in doing so, she was oblivious to how Cato couldn't rip his eyes off the slit of her dress and how it cut entirely too high up her leg. Funny, life's little ironies.

She couldn't be exactly sure what Annie was saying to her over the music, but to her horror the conversation ended too early, with Annie shouting something about needing the bathroom before stumbling off.

Leaving her alone with Cato.

Sure, there were maybe 70 teenagers swirling around them—so not entirely alone, but at that moment, it felt like they were the only ones in the room. She snuck a peek out of the corner of her eye, shocked and a little afraid of the intensity with which Cato was still studying her. The less time she spent with him, the easier it was to forget the pathetic girl who dropped all vestiges of self-respect whenever he was around. Clove Windsor was indomitable, and she could almost pretend that Homecoming had never happened—as long as Cato wasn't around to remind her. She desperately looked for an escape before anything got out of hand.

"Your hair looks nice," Cato stepped towards her to let someone pass by them in the hallway, but he didn't move back, leaving them closer than ever.

And there was that pull again, even though she knew it was a bad idea. She wanted desperately to close the remaining gap between their two bodies, but instead Clove collected herself, shaking her head while straightening her dress. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Cato furrowed his brow.

"Just don't start with me tonight, okay?" Clove sipped at her drink carefully, willing herself to not down it out of nerves.

"What, so we can't even talk now?"

Her gaze flitted around the room. "I don't want to fight, and I don't want any trouble." She remembered Johanna's mantra: Cato is a dumbass, do not let Cato get under your skin. Unfortunately, that just morphed into a tattoo of Cato Cato Cato Cato Cato beating into her mind. She swallowed thickly, knowing she was fighting a losing battle.

Cato stepped even closer, until she had to look up to meet his eyes, and then she was trapped. "And what are you thinking when you say trouble?" he murmured. She let her eyelashes flutter attractively as she took him in, lingering on his lips. She placed a hand on his chest, at first to push him away, but instead it came out as more of a caress as she let her fingers linger on his hot skin. His eyes were hooded now, drinking her in, and she tugged at the silver shiny whistle around his neck, drawing him in even closer. She knew what those lips tasted like, and it would be so easy to sneak into a back room, it would be exciting even, and she wanted it more than anything-

What the fuck was she doing? Her eyes wavered for a second, before she took as big a step as far back as she could, just as Cato was about to grab her waist. "No, no, uh uh, this is not happening." She squeezed her eyes shut, "I'm sick of coming across as the instigator—Jesus, I really should know better by now... I shouldn't even be here tonight."

By the time she finally dared open her eyes a crack, his molten gaze had hardened into a cool impenetrable mask. Without missing a beat, playing the golden boy card as he did so well, Cato lifted his hands in surrender with an easy chuckle. "I was just trying to make friendly conversation." He looked so infuriatingly perfect and untouchable in the dimmed light, Clove growled, hating how he could make her feel like she was out of her mind with an easy laugh. They had both felt it, that animal magnetism that was so hard to reason against. But no, she was turning over a new leaf, she was Clove Windsor, and she would not engage—she was better than this.

Fake it till you make it, right?

"Right," she rolled her eyes. The two fell into an uneasy silence, surveying the crowd together. Clove opened her mouth several times to retort, but bit back the offending remarks each time with a pursing of her lacquered lips.

Cato raised his eyebrows as he glanced over at her, chuckling at her pent-up frustration so clear to him on her face. "You look constipated over there, Clo."

Maybe it was the mocking tone in his voice, maybe it was the way he added his old nickname for her, but Clove suddenly felt the need to scratch back. Hard. Fuck it. "Don't you have someone else to go bless with your ever-charming presence—isn't your girlfriend here?" she shot. "Or have you already forgotten about her? Better catch her before she gets her hands on Marvel again." When Cato's eyes narrowed at her, she felt a strange mixture of glee and disappointment at how she had actually struck a nerve.

He turned to leave finally, thankfully and not so thankfully. "Fine, have a good night. Or don't." Cato shrugged.

Unable to help herself, Clove caught his wrist with her left hand. "Hey," she started hesitantly. Cato turned towards her, something like hope in his handsome features. "In case you forget, her name is Jacqueline Finch, just in case your parents forgot to remind you," she pronounced slowly like she was speaking to a slow child. Cato's eyes hardened once more, and he flipped her off before storming off into the crowd. Clove was left with a smug feeling that was almost immediately eclipsed by loneliness. Was she destined to push Cato away and then miss him while he was gone? She groaned and stared down at her cup. She couldn't even drink to deal with her issues, not with her college interview coming up.

Instead, she had to settle for the veggie platter that sat on a side table forgotten. To be honest, she was surprised Grant had even bothered—he had clearly put more thought into the ice luge on the patio deck. She glanced over to the icy behemoth, where Gale was pouring a generous shot of whiskey down the slide to Finnick. She shook her head—idiots.

She picked up a carrot stick and snapped it between her sharp white teeth, feeling particularly vicious surrounded by drunken fools.

"Whoa, what did that carrot ever do to you?"

She blinked and turned to find none other than Caleb Elgort himself standing there. Behind her, she spotted a few of her classmates sighing and hoping to catch his eye—pathetic. But despite herself, she stood up a little straighter and tilted her chin up before meeting his eye. "Nothing, the carrot just got caught in the crossfire," she quipped back.

He grinned, and his green eyes crinkled. "Remind me to never get on your bad side then." Clove felt her cheeks tinge a little—he was a star through and through: she felt a magnetic pull towards him for an inexplicable reason. Maybe it's the fact that he's gorgeous?

She straightened the skirt of her dress a little before sweetly responding, "Easier said than done."

"Yeah? And what should I call a firecracker like yourself?"

Clove cocked her head to the side, and she smirked when she saw the way his eyes followed her glossy hair sliding over her slim bare shoulder. On some levels, boys were all the same—famous movie star or not. "Is that your smooth way of asking what my name is?"

.

Cato hooted when his ping pong ball sank into the last cup against Cecelia Rush and her new boyfriend. Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to be playing pong with the Aldridge's fine Tiffany crystal tumblers, but no one seemed particularly worried. He hugged Jacqueline to his side, "Pong champions!"

Finnick clapped a hand against his shoulder, "There's the life of the party!" Jacqueline murmured something about going to the bathroom, and the boys turned to watch Johanna and Marvel take over the pong table. Katniss joined them by the couch, twirling her braid around her finger. After Jacqueline left, Finnick nudged him, "Langston and some of the other guys were checking out your girlfriend's ass earlier, just so you know."

Cato shrugged, only feeling the faintest passing twinge of annoyance that Thom Langston thought he could cross Cato. Finnick squinted at him with a shrewd look, "I thought you'd be more annoyed than that."

Katniss piped up, "As long as they weren't checking out Clove, I don't think he'll care." Katniss's eyes widened as the boys turned towards her, she realized she had said that out loud. "Sorry… I'm drunk?" she hedged. Her cheeks were flushed, and her gaze didn't seem willing to focus for more than a second.

Cato rolled his eyes, maybe swaying himself more than he'd be willing to admit. "Her crazy is not my problem anymore. Hell, if she wants Thom Langston or the next perv to look at her, she can take care of it herself." He took a sip from his beer—well that wasn't entirely true. They all knew if he caught anyone on his soccer team's eyes so much as linger on that famous Windsor ass, he would bench them for the rest of the season, championship ranking be damned-

He was drawn back from his brooding after noticing Katniss elbowing Finnick and subtly nodding over to the back corner of the living room. He glanced over to where their gazes were fixed and immediately felt his fists ball up. By the hallway where he had left her, Clove stood nursing the same drink from before. But she was far from alone—a good looking guy stood next to her, well-built and vaguely familiar. A beat later, he realized why he looked familiar: he had seen him in some movie—it was the actor that Grant had mentioned at lunch earlier that week. Even worse, he and Clove were sharing smiles as if they were old friends.

Of course, the minute he left Clove alone, a handsome movie star would come and sweep her off her feet. Even in the darkened room with dozens of pretty and scantily-clad trust fund princesses, the way she wore that black dress was just completely unfair. And even amongst the hordes of people between Cato and Clove, he could tell that she was letting the actor get far too close to her. He growled and took a step towards the offending couple, but Finnick held him back, "Down boy."

"I'm just supposed to watch him hit on her?"

Katniss snapped, "Then don't watch! She's not doing anything wrong." And not for the first time tonight: "Don't you have a girlfriend you should be worried about?"

Almost as if on cue, Jacqueline rejoined the group, and the three clammed up. Before she could even get a word in edgewise, Cato pulled her towards the wall. "Let's get out of here." She opened her mouth, probably to agree—but Cato just seared his lips to hers insistently.

Grant had turned the music in the house too loud, throbbing and rattling everyone's teeth a little. Katniss grimaced at Finnick, throwing her hands up to gesture at everything, "So is this 'keeping the peace'?" She turned away from Cato, determinedly trying to engulf Jacqueline with his mouth, with disgust. "This is a shit show."

.

"-I'm not kidding! I've still never ridden on a plane by myself." Caleb laughed.

Clove smiled, "It's not as fun as you might think. I still look practically thirteen so I get treated like an unaccompanied minor." She had genuinely enjoyed talking to Caleb Elgort, and he wasn't bad on the eyes either. What did it say about her life that the most normal conversation she'd had in months was with Hollywood's next big thing? More importantly, she was simply relieved that she could feel attracted to someone other than He-Who-Must-Be-Named.

"Now, I don't think anyone with working eyes would say you're thirteen," he murmured.

Clove rolled her eyes and smiled coyly, internally jumping up and down that Caleb Elgort was flirting with her. But before she could come up with a perfectly crafted response, he whispered with a whistle, "Whoa, looks like some people have had too much to drink tonight."

She twisted her neck to look at what he was referring to. With something that felt like a knife to the stomach, she could make out Cato and Jacqueline tonguing furiously by the bannister of the staircase. She willed herself not to get upset as she watched Cato guide the stupid girl upstairs towards some empty bedrooms. Clove pivoted back quickly when her eyes connected with Cato's for the briefest of moments.

"Do you know him?" Caleb's voice broke through the weird ringing in her ears.

Clove flashed him a careful smile, hoping it didn't ring too false. "Kind of. It's complicated."

He didn't push for more information, something Clove was ultimately grateful for—what would she even say? Instead, he brushed a piece of stray hair from her mouth and tucked it behind her ear, "You're a very complicated girl, aren't you, Clove Windsor?"

"Oh yeah, just try to keep up." His smile burst through again, and she was the one to lean in to close the gap between their mouths. Maybe Johanna's mantra would work tonight after all.

.

Stumbling down the stairs half an hour later, Cato wished he could get a dollar every time one of his friends had rolled their eyes at him tonight. Peeta's eyes were wide with disbelief, "Unbelievable."

"What?" Cato asked distractedly, tugging his shirt back to cover his washboard abs.

"Are you serious? It's getting really hard to keep defending you when you're determined to act like an asshole."

"Careful Peeta," Cato growled. "I'm not really in the mood to get shit on right now."

The shorter boy stood his ground, "Then maybe stop pulling stunts like this." He craned his neck behind Cato, "Where is Jacqueline?"

Cato took a sip from a new beer he grabbed from a nearby table. "Hell if I know." He peered around the room casually, which Peeta quickly picked up on.

"Are you seriously looking for Clove now? Seriously? Right after you were with," Peeta took a deep sigh. "—you're fucked up."

"Tell me something I don't know."

There was silence between the two boys as Cato gazed at his can with the slightest of interest, and Peeta regarded Cato carefully. "Brooding doesn't look good on you, Einhardt."

Cato ignored him, "Where's Clove?"

Peeta stepped in front of him, blocking him from the rest of the party. "Don't bother her, man. You're drunk, and things were just starting to settle down."

"Where's Clove," he repeated insistently, stumbling a little on the spot. "She's with that actor, isn't she? Goddammit, I'll-"

"You won't do anything," Peeta said firmly. "If either of you just took some time to ever think instead of just reacting, everything would be so much easier. But no, everything has to be so damn dramatic."

"I don't need a lecture right now, okay? I just… I just can't see her with someone else right now," Cato looked away, and even with his slurred speech, Peeta could tell he meant it.

"You know that's…crazy hypocritical of you, right?"

"I don't care!" Cato roared. "You think I want to be hung up on her, when any other girl would be so much easier?"

With a start, Peeta was reminded of a conversation he had with Clove last weekend.

"I just don't get it," Clove wailed. She was sitting next to Peeta on the couch in the master bedroom of the Plaza penthouse. "How did everything get so messed up?"

Peeta rubbed her back through the plush hotel bathrobe. "What's so messed up?"

Clove wiped gingerly underneath her eyes, always acutely aware of her makeup, no matter her level of inebriation. Glaring at Peeta, "Don't make me spell it out, Mellark."

He shrugged, but said nothing.

Swallowing, she continued, "I thought I had it all planned out. I thought I knew what senior year was going to be like, and how perfect everything was going to be. And now… I don't even know what I should do next. Or if it would even make a difference." She buried her head into her arms, "Everything's so hard now."

"Maybe that's a sign that it's not the right thing for you right now?" Peeta suggested lightly, hating to see his two friends so confused and miserable.

Clove just shook her head, lost in her own thoughts. "My brain says everything with him is always so wrong, but I can't help it—I can't make myself stop. I don't know why I keep going back for more when it just hurts." She hiccupped, "Anybody else would be easier, but I think I might want him always…. Could I have some more water?"

The tired boy stood up, "Yeah, let's get you some water and then into bed. I have a shirt somewhere you can borrow too."

-Maybe it was the way the two had echoed each other, but Peeta knew that an alcohol-fueled angry Cato at a ratchet Halloween party was not going to make things easier for either of them.

"Do you even want to be with her, Cato?"

Cato looked up from the ground with a furrow in his brow. "I always want her, dude. That's the problem."

"Even if that's not what's best for either of you right now?"

There was a pause, and the loud rap that came over the surround sound filled the gap. Cato made another push towards the living room, "Look, let me just talk to her-"

"Okay, okay," Peeta soothed, taking pity on him, placing two restraining hands on Cato's broad shoulders. "I'll go break it up and make sure Clove doesn't do anything with the actor, okay?"

Cato relaxed by a shade. "I want to talk to her-"

"-But!" Peeta interrupted, "But you have to promise me that you won't talk to her tonight, okay? And not run after Clove every time you can get your hands on her, and not let her throw herself at you, when you don't even know what you want for yourself."

Stopping for a moment and swaying slightly from the countless drinks he had that night, Cato looked a bit like a reprimanded little boy. "Is that what you think really?" He pouted. "Fine. Fine."

Peeta let out a relieved breath, "I'm going to remind you again about this later, because you sure as hell aren't going to remember this in the morning. Now, where's Katniss?"

.

Johanna was surveying the drinks available on the kitchen counter in front of her. The pickings were slim this late into the night…but she was nothing if not resourceful. Finally, thankfully, her eyes landed on a half full bottle of tequila.

"Need some salt?" She smiled as she heard Marvel's voice behind her and turned around. He stood against the stainless steel fridge, offering up the shaker. "No limes in sight though, sadly."

"Sigh. I can make it work though, do you want one?" Johanna asked as she fished out two disposable shot glasses from a plastic bag nearby.

Marvel shook his head, "I think I'm good for the night."

"Boo, so lame." Johanna rolled her eyes as she poured a generous shot of tequila into one. "What are you dressed as, anyways? I never got to ask earlier." She surveyed his tame getup of a sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a button down peeking out from underneath.

"Please, you totally know, Mason. Don't pretend you're too cool."

She laughed, "First off, I am cooler than all you bitches." She cocked her head before acquiescing, "-But fine, you do make a good Harry Potter."

Marvel fake-bowed, "Thank you, thank you."

"Better haircut though," she mused, almost to herself. Before she could even think about it, Johanna ran her fingertips lightly through his hair, lingering on the forehead where Madge had drawn a lightning scar on with lipliner. "And greener eyes." Marvel's eyes drilled into her for an electric moment before he chickened out and looked away. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?" she wheedled. The sexual tension between the two was palpable, with both knowing where they would end up by the end of the night.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "Fine," she sniffed. "You have to help me with my shot then." Before he could get a word in edgewise, she took his hand in hers and swiped her little tongue over the back of it. Johanna tapped some salt onto the spot before expertly licking it off him slowly and then downing the tequila.

Marvel raised his eyebrows at her, "You don't exactly do subtle, do you?" When she shook her head 'no' with a fiendish grin, he summoned all his courage he had left and bent his head to press his lips against hers. Smiling in triumph, Johanna immediately deepened the kiss with a moan, leaning her body up against his frame.

She wound her toned arms around his shoulders, putting all of her strength into the embrace before finally breaking apart for air. "Subtle? …. Have you seen my costume tonight?"

He teased, "I think every guy here with a working pair of eyes has seen your costume." Marvel brought his hand to grip her waist, caressing the skintight fabric beneath his fingers. "Now come here," he murmured, pushing her up against the fridge. Johanna caught his mouth with hers, letting his tongue invade her mouth. His hand ran the length of her thigh at an indulgently slow speed before he gripped it tightly and hitched it against his hip.

Before they could get much further however, someone urgently tapped Marvel on the shoulder.

"I don't want to break this up even though I totally called this, but, Marvel, I need your help!"

They finally came up for air, Johanna panting and glaring at Katniss. "Seriously? We're kind of in the middle of something."

Katniss had that flushed and glassy-eyed look she always got when she was inebriated. "Obviously," she smirked. "But I just need to borrow Marvel for like two minutes… then you can have your wicked way with him."

Johanna pursed her lips, "What is this about?"

"Do I not get a say in the matter?" Marvel interrupted after clearing his throat. He shifted uncomfortably in his pants as Johanna licked her lips and pinned him down with a stare that looked like she was going to eat him alive.

"Can you two please stop eye-fucking each other when I'm right here?" Katniss cried. "Seriously, I just need Marvel to stop Clove from going to town on that Hollywood guy, or otherwise Cato is going to go apeshit."

"Wait, seriously?" Marvel strode to the hallway and craned his neck to look into the living room. His eyes widened, then he scurried back. "Holy shit!" His hair was slightly mused and his tie was askew due to Johanna's wandering hands, and, at that moment, she idly thought that he might even be handsomer than Gloss Montgomery. "So, why is this something we need to stop exactly?"

Katniss flicked her ponytail over shoulder, "I don't know, he explained it to me but I don't remember what he said. We just have to tell her that Peeta is feeling sick, and I need her to help take him home."

"And how do I factor into this?" Johanna was not so innocently playing with the hem of his shirt, and he could barely think straight in the dimly lit kitchen.

"You're just supposed to convince her that she should play it cool with that guy? Or something like that? Pleaseeeeee Marvel?"

Katniss must have been very inebriated, she practically never begged. Marvel groaned, "Fine, Kat, but only because you're drunk, and I don't think you'll leave me alone otherwise."

She cheered and gave him a hug, further verifying that she was indeed very drunk. "I'll bring him right back, Jo" she promised with a coy smile. Johanna gave her the finger but smiled anyways.

Marvel wrapped his hands around her waist again briefly. "You… you don't move at all, okay? Promise me you'll stay right there."

"Maybe," she grinned cheekily. "Better not take the chance—hurry back."

.

Clove let out a moan as Caleb nibbled at her neck lightly. She caught some girls from her history class look enviously at her and smiled to herself. Making out with a near-stranger in Grant Aldridge's house wasn't exactly how she planned the evening, but she couldn't deny that she was having fun with it. She wrapped her thin fingers around his pressed collar before tugging his lips to meet hers again in a hot lip lock. He smiled against her mouth, wrapping his arms even tighter around her waist as she sat on his lap, when suddenly-

"Clove!" Someone jostled her shoulder, much to her chagrin.

She pulled away from Caleb with a sigh, "What?!"

Katniss rocked back against her heels when she came face-to-face with the rising Hollywood star. She suddenly forgot exactly what she was supposed to be doing for Peeta, "Um, hi, I need your help?"

Clove tossed an apologetic look to Caleb before turning back to Katniss and Marvel, "What is so important that it couldn't wait?"

"Peeta is feeling really sick, and I can't find anyone else to help me take him home. Finnick and Annie left half an hour ago, and Cato-"

"Isn't Marvel right there, can't he help?" Clove frowned, "And where's Jo?"

Marvel pulled Clove slightly away from Caleb Elgort so he couldn't overhear. "I think you should leave now and play it cool with Mr. Hollywood over there."

Clove yanked her arm away from Marvel, "Yeah? And what do you know?" She cocked a skeptical, perfectly-shaped brow.

"I know that guys like him will be that much more wrapped around your finger if you play hard to get. Trust me."

She chewed on her lip for a second, weighing her options. Marvel had a point: all guys were like that. After all, wasn't that where she had gone wrong with Cato? She should have played her cards closer to her chest, instead of jumping into his arms whenever he paid her the slightest attention. Besides, how exactly was she supposed to end the night? Would he expect her to fall into his bed like any of his adoring fans?

It was crazy that she could just let this random boy sweep her off her feet and finally not have to worry about this pesky thing called her virginity. Was it really such a big deal anymore? It was the 21st century, after all. But at the end of the day, Clove knew that she wouldn't be willing to give it up so easily. It meant something to her, and tonight was not what she had been waiting for—though she had no idea what she was waiting for. "Fine," she finally acquiesced after a long pause. "But tell anyone I took your advice, and I'll cut you."

"Love you too, Clove." Marvel rolled his eyes and hurried away to the kitchen.

Clove turned back towards Caleb and Katniss, where the brunette girl was excitedly showing him how to do a specific bird call whistle. "Katniss!" The other girl startled and dropped her hands sheepishly. "Sorry," Clove frowned at Caleb, "I should probably get going."

He had a look of chagrin on his face that Clove secretly was pleased to see. "Well, when can I see you next?"

"Give me your phone," she ordered primly. She grabbed his iPhone, and typed quickly into the keypad feature. "Here's my number, you should use it."

He smiled down at her, "Yes ma'am. Can I get one last kiss before you go?"

Twisting out of his grasp, Clove blew him a kiss before linking arms with Katniss and turning to leave. "Don't miss me too much," she whispered over her shoulder with a teasing lilt.

"Damn, Clove," Katniss raised her eyebrows. "You man-eater!" The two girls laughed conspiratorially, not even bothering to spare another glance at the handsome boy left in their wake. Looks like Queen Clove is back on top.

"Now," Clove clapped her hands together. "Where's Peeta? He better actually be dying…or I'll kill him."

.

Johanna played with the ends of her own hair while she surveyed the array of olive oils the Aldridge family had in their pantry. She smiled to herself, maybe she could convince Marvel to fuck her in the jacuzzi tub—she felt a hand on her waist and turned with an expectant look on her face.

Except the hand belonged to Grant Aldridge, instead of Marvel. "Hey gorgeous," he crooned. "I've been looking for you all night."

Johanna covertly stepped out from his grasp, under the guise of adjusting her heeled boot. "Hey, nice party," she offered.

Unfortunately, he leaned even closer. "How about we get out of here for a bit? We never got a chance to talk after the dance last weekend." He wiggled his eyebrows a little with innuendo, making it clear what he wanted from her.

"I was actually about to head out, but maybe next time?" Johanna checked her phone so she wouldn't have to make eye contact with his persistent leer.

His hand shot out and stole her phone from her loose grasp, annoyingly. He dangled it in front of her flirtatiously, "Don't play hard to get, Jo."

Her pretty face pinched ever-so-slightly. "Don't call me that." She snatched her phone back.

"Mmmm, feisty," he murmured, leaning even closer. Somehow, she had ended up pushed up against his pantry door, and she squirmed away from him. "I like that."

"Get off me!" she grit out, hating how her voice raised slightly when she wanted desperately to keep her cool. She could feel her heartrate starting to rise as Grant pushed his wet mouth against hers.

She fought against his hold before finally biting down his tongue when he pushed it into her mouth. "Bitch!" he grunted, "You're such a cocktease."

"I don't owe you anything, get off me!" Grant stepped back angrily, finally acquiescing, to her relief. As she forcefully wiped her mouth on her sleeve, he could see how red his ears were with embarrassment and the sting of rejection. The handsome boy had probably never been turned down before.

He grabbed her arm again just as she had relaxed. She bit her lip to keep from yelping, as he twisted ever so slightly. "You really shouldn't wear something like that, if you're not willing to back it up," he whispered into her ear. She struggled in his grasp, hating how he could overpower her so easily. "You look like a cheap slut."

Her eyes narrowed, and Johanna swore she saw red. Before she even realized what she was doing herself, she brought her knee swiftly up to the apex of his legs. He yowled in pain, drawing the attention of others. As he recoiled, Johanna spat out, "Oh yeah? Well, I could be the cheapest slut, and I still wouldn't sleep with your sorry ass!" As he brought his face up, she jabbed him in the eye socket with all the strength of her tennis club-bred backswing.

The crowd which had quickly assembled, let out a collective "ooh" of appreciation as Grant was knocked down the ground. A few girls that Johanna didn't know personally raised their red Solo cups in toast, and someone started a slow chant—"Jo-han-na, Jo-han-na!" Marvel emerged from the thicket of people, brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, what's going on? What happened?"

Johanna brushed a piece of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. "Nothing I couldn't handle." He looked at her, eyes widening after spotting Grant Aldridge splayed out on the ground, groaning. She rolled her eyes and took his hand in hers before dragging him out towards the front door, "I'll explain in the car."

.

The rest of the weekend passed in a blink of an eye, and suddenly Cato's Princeton interview was looming before him in the week ahead. He sighed as he trudged into the science lab for some extra time with the microscope, hating that he even had to go through the motions of caring about AP Bio. Not that he was in any rush to get home—his dad was probably going to waste his time trying to tell him what his interviewer's favorite golf club was. They had been friends in college, which meant there was a good chance that his interviewer was a huge asshole as well.

Cato was fiddling with the microscope focus when he heard the door open behind him. "Oh," he heard Clove breathe. He turned to see her hesitating at the threshold of the door, debating whether or not to bolt.

"Uh, I'm almost done." He cleared his throat, "You don't have to leave." Every encounter he had with her put him on edge, not sure if she was friend or foe. It didn't make matters any easier that he couldn't help himself when it came to her—he'd always want more, either way.

She fastened a shiny smile on before sitting down at the microscope next to him. "Now why would I leave?" she asked innocently, but Cato detected the slight sarcastic edge to her voice. She switched on the microscope in front of her, and the light softly illuminated the slight freckles on the tops of her cheeks in a way that made Cato's breath catch in his throat. She fiddled with the provided slide, quirking her mouth to the left in concentration. The sarcasm in her voice, her mannerisms—these were all things that Cato had grown so used to that he didn't get to see any more. Now that he was finally alone with her for the first time since Homecoming, he felt an ache to be so close to her magnetic presence. Clove's voice brought him out of his reverie. "I can feel you staring." There was now a distinct annoyance in her voice, where there might have been a teasing reproach a few months ago.

"Can we talk?" Cato said in a hushed voice, the two both aware that there were windows in the microscope room, and it wouldn't bode well for their unsteady peace to start another argument.

She sighed as if she really couldn't be bothered with him as a disturbance, which pissed him off. "About what?"

"Seriously? What about how I saw you all cozied up with that douchebag actor in town on Friday," he demanded in a whisper.

She cocked her head, "And that's bad because…"

"You know why. Stop playing dumb, it's fucking annoying."

"Oh, I see, it's bad because you have a girl you're screwing regularly and practically in public, but it bothers you to see me even look at another guy? That makes sense," Clove whispered sarcastically.

Cato kept his face stony, "What do you expect, she's my girlfriend."

Clove smiled pleasantly as a couple of classmates walked by the window. To any casual onlooker, it seemed like a typical conversation between friends, unless you looked at the knives she was hurling with her pretty doe eyes. "Go right ahead! I'm so happy that you're sleeping with Jacqueline Finch, I really couldn't care less."

"You're fucking impossible, Clove, you know that right?" Cato's voice started to rise, until she shushed him. "You don't have to just throw yourself at a random guy to prove a point."

"Yes, because of course it's impossible that I show any interest in any guy that's not you, right? Crazy." She picked up her pencil to resume her work, broke the tip of the lead twice before finally getting back to work. After a few tense moments, she stopped writing again in annoyance and slammed her pencil down with not an insignificant amount of force. "I'm just going to point out," Clove smiled tightly through clenched teeth, "that this is what everyone wanted. We're all playing nice and happy kumbaya and all that." She picked her pencil once more, clenching it tightly in her hand as she took notes in her lab journal.

"So, you're happy," Cato stared at her until Clove finally ripped her eyes from the microscope.

"Fucking ecstatic," she whispered, and his eyes followed the perfect shape of her mouth. She glared at him with blazing eyes, and it was all he could do to not kiss her hard on the mouth right there. She shook her head, "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work because I am done feeding the fire and being painted as the villain. I'm not going to start a fight because it's really not going to resolve anything. We are going to be civil towards each other and behave ourselves. Got it?"

"Oh yeah, because you behaving yourself is going to last long," Cato retorted.

"Fuck off, I am not the problem. I don't see why we're even having this conversation, I'm toxic remember?" When Cato opened his mouth to protest, "-save it. Just nod your head so I know that it got through your thick skull."

Cato grit his teeth, "You know you're only going to be able to keep this up for like a week, I know you." He could feel the heat radiating off her, stimulated by the frustration he was able to stir up in her. Her breath became just a tad more erratic with every centimeter he drew closer, and he just knew that, if he placed a hand on her anywhere, she would be as a tense as a live wire.

She turned back to her microscope, signaling that, in her eyes, this conversation was over. Cato's eyes lingered on her hands as she flipped through the slides. He was drawn back to not so long ago, when those very fingernails were dragging down his back, while he was moving against her feverishly. The way she had moaned underneath him, the best motivation his ears had ever heard in his young life-

But Clove, no matter how hard she tried, could not help but get the last word. She whirled back and unknowingly interrupted a very vivid daydream, "You know me? Then maybe you know how much I enjoyed being with someone who didn't have an ego the size of the current national debt."

Cato snorted, retorting quickly, "Oh yeah, because the bigshot actor doesn't have a huge ego. And I'm sure you throwing your drunk self at him Saturday night just fueled the fire."

She exhaled deeply through her thin nose. "I'm not going to continue this conversation because I know it means so much for the rest of them for us to get along. But if I were to continue the conversation, I'll would let you know that I was dead sober that night—which is more I could say about your pathetic ass."

Something snapped within her, and she knew that she was beyond holding back punches now. "And you know what, I did kiss him, and it was fun, and I liked it. " She reveled in the look of devastation that passed over Cato's handsome face. "And he didn't even have to get me drunk."

Maybe that had been too far. Before she could check to see what his face looked like, Clove swept out of the room with her experiment done.

Clove-1, Cato-0.

But why did it feel like such an empty victory?

.

The day had finally come for Clove to embrace her destiny. Clove slid into the soft leather seat in the waiting room after letting the receptionist know she was here for her interview. She flicked a miniscule piece of grass off her classic Calvin Klein suit set and folded her legs neatly under her chair. Just as she reached into her leather purse to silence her phone, it buzzed within her hands. She spared a glance at the screen, and she saw with a jolt that it was Caleb Elgort. They had been exchanging witty retorts back-and-forth ever since Halloween, and she would be lying if she didn't get a rush of adrenaline and a flip in her stomach every time she saw his name appear on her phone.

She glanced at the front desk. Clove had promised herself that she wouldn't check her phone once stepping into the building, for fear of appearing like another millennial glued to her phone. But because she was, in fact, a millennial, she was almost immediately itching to unlock the phone. The secretary stepped out from behind the desk, murmuring about needing to make some copies. Clove nodded sweetly, keeping her head bent demurely until she heard the sound of the hallway door swing shut. She swiftly scooped her phone out into her lap.

Caleb Elgort: Hey, I think you said you had your college interview today? Good luck! Maybe you can tutor me once you're a fancy Yale student.

She smirked, pleased at how he was hanging over her every word. It was a great ego boost right before she had to head in for the evaluation she had been imagining since she asked her dad what a 'Yale' was at the ripe age of five. Clove could feel her hands getting clammy despite all her meticulous preparation—her hair was curled slightly at the ends, enough to appear polished and mature without trying too hard, she had her extracurriculars memorized, and even had practiced her 'tell me about yourself' spiel to herself in the mirror for two hours last night.

The cherry on top would be leaving this hot actor on 'read' for a few hours, she grinned deviously. Just as she was about to slip her phone back into her Prada purse, she felt it vibrate against her palm once again.

A double text? Clove bit the corner of her lip to keep herself from giggling, she flipped it over once again, only-

Finnick Odair: hope your interview went well, call me when you can?

long story short, Cato got into a car crash, we're all heading to district Hospital now

not sure how bad it is yet.. but someone said it was bad

Thought you would want to know

Sry for all the texts, probably not good thing to tell over txt

u should probably come to the hosp when you can ASAP

Clove's stomach dropped, and her hand gripped the phone tightly. She blinked a few times, unable to process the words on the electronic screen. How could Cato Einhardt be in the hospital? Things like this didn't happen in North Hills. There must have been a mistake.

-How bad was 'bad'? Her thoughts bounced erratically through her skull. How was she going to get through an interview with this taking up all her brain energy?

Wait, what the fuck was wrong with her? How could she be thinking about going through with this interview, when Cato was in the hospital? What if…

No, there's no way it could be that bad. And this was her Yale college interview. She was going to go ace it and do what she was born to do, and by the time she got out, this will have all blown over. It was probably a mistake anyways, and she would feel like such an idiot for even thinking about blowing off her interview for Cato Einhardt, when they weren't even considering each other friends at the moment. The last time they had spoken she had pretty much implied that she only hooked up with him after Homecoming because she was drunk. And she had just said that to hurt him.

But what if that was the last thing she ever said to him? Clove gulped and pressed her lips together. She couldn't bear that, no matter what had happened. What were they even fighting about? It all seemed so remote and nonsensical right now. Please whoever's up there, she willed, eyes squeezed shut, please keep Cato safe. He can sleep with whoever he wants and do whatever he wants, just make sure that he's okay... She needed to see him smile that lazy grin of his again and see his bright blue eyes crinkle and see him ruffle up his hair absentmindedly and hear him snort-scoff when he was trying not to admit that he thought she was funny-

By the time the receptionist returned with her copies, Clove's chair was empty.

.