"Do you have your lunch?" I ask.

"For the fifteenth time, yes," Prim responds.

"Do you have all your books?"

"For God's sake, Katniss, yes," Prim replies.

"Did you do all your homework?"

"Leave me alone, Katniss," Prim laughs. I smirk at her but make sure she's in her seat in her classroom before I head to my side of the school. I'm very protective of my sister – I always have been.

My age group, the 17s, start in Science and History with Mr. Abernathy before heading to Math and English with Miss Trinket. After, we have lunch and then head to Art and Music with Cinna (the only teacher in the school that let's us call him by his first name) and, finally, we have Physical Education with Mr. Crane. My favorite class, obviously, is music. It's the one subject that I'm actually good at.

"Get in your seats please!" Mr. Abernathy shouts. I take my assigned seat next to Peeta Mellark. I sit next to Peeta in almost every single one of my classes. Each classroom is set up the same way – tables, two to a table – and since it's all the same kids in class, we generally have the same seating chart for each class. We've been sitting next to each other for twelve years.

"Did you do the homework?" Peeta asks.

I scoffed. "Some."

He laughs. "Do you want my answers?"

I shake my head.

"C'mon, Katniss," Peeta says. "Take them. You're going to fail again."

I sigh and take his answers. We have the same conversation every day. Once I'm finished copying his answers, Mr. Abernathy comes around and checks it. After, he tells us to work with our table partner on about fifty problems in the back of the book.

"Do you understand?" I ask.

"Not in the least, you?"

I shake my head. "I don't think anyone does." I look around at my classmates. Most are just talking with their table partners. See, we got to choose our table partners twelve years ago. I just sat by myself, but at the last second, Peeta Mellark stood from his table with Erik Waters and moved to sit with me. I never knew why and I'd never asked.

"Do you want to try and figure it out?" he asks.

"Not really," I say. "Do you?"

"Absolutely not." He closes the book and leans back in his chair. "Did you finish the art project?"

I immediately blush. Our most recent project was a portrait of our table partner. So, of course, that was Peeta. "Yes," I say quietly. "And it's horrible."

"I highly doubt that," he says.

"You know how badly I draw," I counter.

He laughs. "Can I see it?"

"Not until Art."

"You can't see mine until Art then, either," Peeta replies.

Peeta's always been the best artist in the 17s. He decorates the cakes at the bakery that his family owns. He draws during lectures in school. He's given me countless paintings and drawings. I always try to give them back, but he insists. I have them in a box underneath my bed. I don't know why I've kept them.

At the end of the hour, Mr. Abernathy checks our History homework and assigns us reading and worksheets to do for the remainder of the period. Peeta and I actually work this hour.

We transition to Math and English. Miss Trinket is probably my least favorite teacher. She came from the Capitol – most teachers do. Mr. Abernathy didn't, though – he's from right here in District 12. She, like Mr. Abernathy, gives us practice problems to do.

Halfway through the period, Peeta groans. I look over to him, surprised.

"I hate math," he says. "It's official."

"I do too," I say.

During the English portion of the period, Peeta and I continued working on our book project. It wasn't difficult work – Peeta was great with words and always had been. Luckily, the period went by quickly.

We went to lunch where I sat with Madge Undersee, the mayor's daughter. I always sit with her – we're both rejects. Lunch is only a half an hour, and we don't talk much. When it's over, we both head to Art and Music, but her table partner is Micah Davies. "Good lunch?" Peeta asks when he arrives. He always asks.

"Fine, you?"

"Fine. Can I see your project now?"

I laugh. "Class hasn't started."

"Fine," he laughs. "But it can't be that bad."

"It's horrifying," I say. It wasn't the worst I'd drawn, but it wasn't the best. I surprised myself with how much I knew of Peeta's features. Blonde hair that hung below his forehead, piercingly kind blue eyes, a jawline that seemed to be chiseled to perfection . . . I even remembered the freckle just below his lips. When Cinna told us to pull the drawings out, I did, but I kept mine flipped over.

"I don't think so," Peeta laughs, grabbing it from me and looking at it. He raised his eyebrows. "This is not nearly as bad as I was expecting."

"Gee, thanks," I say.

"Not like that," he says. "It's very detailed. Generally you don't take the time to detail your drawings."

"We all can't be amazing artists like you," I say defensively.

"It's really good," he insists. "Just like looking into a mirror."

I laugh. "Let me see mine."

He hands it to me. When I see it, I'm genuinely speechless. "Peeta. It's beautiful."

He smiles. "Well, it is you."

I blush. "Please pass up the portraits of your table partner, please," Cinna says softly.

I stare at mine for just a few seconds longer. His is so intricately detailed, it's almost as if I'd been posing for it. But of course I hadn't. "It's amazing," I whisper to him as Cinna assigns the next project. "It really is."

He smiles. "I liked drawing you," he shrugs. "Maybe you'd like me to do it more often?"

I laugh. "Pay attention."

". . . a sunset," Cinna says. "This will be a joint project between you and your table partner. You'll view a sunset together in different places all over the district – it's your choice. I will tell you that if you do it from a generic place, like the roof of your house or in a tree, I will dock points. You'll draw it together, based on what you saw. This project is going to be used to open your eyes to other people's perceptions of what you see. It will be due Friday. You can use the remainder of the Art time to decide on a location as well as a time."

Today was Tuesday. "I work from after school til close on Wednesday and Thursday," Peeta says. "Is there any way we could do it tonight?"

"That shouldn't be a problem," I say. I've done all my hunting and Prim can stay at home with my mother.

"Where should we do it?" he asks. "I don't really know many places."

I think. "I know a place," I say. "But I can't tell you where it is. You'll have to trust me."

He shrugs. "Okay."

"Mr. Mellark and Miss Everdeen, may I see you at my desk for a moment?" asks Cinna.

We look at each other quickly and stand. "I have fantastic news for the both of you," Cinna says. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but there is a fantastic academy for the arts in District 7. It's open to kids all over Panem. There are two spots available and two full academic scholarships available. I've been asked if I have any students interested and I immediately thought of you two. I sent in some of your paintings, Peeta, and I sent in some recordings of you singing and playing the piano, Katniss. You've been accepted. It's up to you whether you want to go or not."

"Full academic scholarships?" I choke out.

"You don't have to pay one cent," Cinna says. "Now, there's one dormitory open, so you two would have to share. Generally, they put two girls or two boys in a dormitory, but I informed them that you're very responsible and the academy as no problem with you rooming."

"When would we start?" Peeta asks.

"October 19th," Cinna says. "It's the start of the second half of their semester. Are you interested?"

"I can't," I say. It's such a good opportunity, though. It pains me just to say I can't go. "My little sister, my mother . . . I can't just leave."

"You can, actually," Cinna says. "It's your decision, Katniss. If it's Primrose you're worried about, I'll keep an eye on her personally for you."

"I'm interested," Peeta says. "I'll have to talk to my parents, but I'm very interested."

Cinna smiles warmly. "Good. Katniss, I'm going to give you until Friday to think about it. I'll need your final answers by then."

I don't pay attention at all during Music. I think about the opportunity. This could set me up to actually be successful – to get my mother and sister out of the Seam. I could learn as much about Music as I wanted. That's all I've really liked, anyway. But to leave Prim – to go all the way across the country to District 7? It was a huge decision.

I change in the locker room during Physical Education and meet Peeta in the actual gymnasium. Our table partners become our 'fitness partners' during Physical Education. "Are you thinking about it?" Peeta asks as we jog our laps.

"Yeah," I say.

"I'm going to go," Peeta says. "If my parents give me the okay. I mean, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Katniss."

"You don't think I don't know that?" I snap.

"Sorry," he backs off. "It would just be nice to have a friend up there with me, you know."

I pause. "I would really love to go. I just don't think I can leave Prim."

"I could have my father keep an eye on her," Peeta offers. "Make sure she's eating, getting to and from school. You know, my dad and your mom were really close."

"I'll keep thinking."

We do our push-ups, sit-ups, and we run again before Mr. Crane tells us to play one-on-one with the basketballs. We play halfheartedly for about a half an hour.

"When are we going tonight?" he asks.

"Oh, right," I say. "The sunset. Right after school, it's a long hike."

"Where are we going?" he asks as we head inside.

"You'll know when we get there," I say. "Meet me outside the girl's locker room after school."