The alarm clock on my bedside table jumps to life, and even though it's Friday, I roll over and slam it off with my palm. Seven o'clock. My muscles throb from the grueling football practice Coach Abernathy put the team through yesterday, and I figure that an extra five minutes of sleep can only help me. My eyelids flutter closed and I drift back to sleep.

"Peeta, get the fuck up."

My brother Rye's voice breaks my slumber and I unwillingly open my eyes to glance at my clock. Shit, it's seven fifteen. Before I can push myself up, I feel a large form pin my body to the bed, throwing punches at my midsection. Still half asleep, I curl up in a defensive ball, trying to protect my face. The force retreats and I sit up as Rye crosses back to his side of the room, laughing his ass off.

"Dude, I'm just playing with you. Don't have to be such a pansy."

"I'm sore," I retort, not wanting to let on to the fact that I had believed Rye to be my mother, and I was ready to take the beating without another move.

"Sorry. But seriously, you better get moving. It'll be Mother if you don't get down there and sweep the bakery before we open."

He throws me a sympathetic look as I roll on some deodorant and pull on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve tee shirt. For some reason, there's something humiliating about being beaten by a woman as small as Mother, but Rye and I have a sort of mutual understanding that if neither of us fights back, we won't pick on each other. Neither of us has the heart to hurt her, as much as we don't like to admit it. I walk into the bathroom, splash my face with water, and by the time I dry my skin, Rye has fled the room to take care of his chores before school. I sprint down the stairs and pick up the broom just as Mother throws open her bedroom door. By the time she's down, Rye is loading the display cases and I've already swept up a nice pile of dust. She looks us over and I feel myself go rigid, but I don't dare stop working. She scoffs, but thankfully, retreats back upstairs. Rye and I let out a collective sigh just as a small blonde girl appears in the window, staring at one of my cakes, which Rye just put on display. I recognize her. Primrose Everdeen. Just as I duck my head back down to my work, I catch a flash of that glistening braid, whipping over the shoulder of the taller girl who grabs Prim's hand. My heart stops, and I don't dare look into the face of the girl who I've loved since the first day I saw her in school. I know I'm blushing profusely, and when I finally manage look up, the girls are gone, but Rye's eyes are locked on mine. He shakes his head slightly, knowing that I've had a crush on Katniss Everdeen for the longest time, even though I've never admitted it to him. I flip him off and go back to sweeping, focusing on trying to allow the skin on my face to return to its normal color.

"I've been meaning to ask you what you're doing tonight," Rye calls from across the kitchen.

"I'm probably just gonna crash at home. Watch Netflix or something. Football has me pretty drained."

It's not only football. I came home last night aching all over from the intense defensive practice, seeing as I got sacked approximately a million times over. All I wanted to do was crawl into an ice bath, but I forgot to drag up a new bag of flour from the cellar that morning, and it certainly didn't go unnoticed by Mother. Honestly, I don't even know which bruises are from her and which are from football. At least it makes it easier to lie about the whole situation. But lately, all I've wanted to do on the weekends is sleep.

"Bro, you know I wouldn't usually push you to come if you're not feeling up to it, but you're not gonna regret coming to this party tonight."

"What makes this one so special, Rye? They're all the same. I think I'm gonna sit this one out."

"It's at Gale Hawthorne's."

Gale is a senior like Rye, so technically, as a junior, I should be jumping at the idea of attending. Senior parties are the same as all the others, but I know Finnick will be begging me to come with him.

"I don't know," I say, not seeing Rye's point.

"You know who hangs around Gale," he continues.

Well, now I know. Katniss Everdeen hangs around Gale. Those two are attached at the hip. She's sure to be there, although she doesn't frequent many parties.

"They aren't dating. I know it for a fact. He's said she's like a sister to him. You gotta go, Peet."

I don't respond, but the comment certainly doesn't go over my head.

"Just looking out for my little brother's love life," Rye adds.

"Shut the fuck up, my love life is thriving without your help."

"The ladies love their Mellark boys," Rye says with a sarcastically cocky tone.

I laugh along with him, glad he's dropped the idea of the party and the possibility that Katniss will be there, but I can't help thinking, all the ladies except the one who matters.

Today, Rye and I escaped home with nothing but a couple smacks for not making breakfast early enough, but it's enough to leave our cheeks just a little too rosy and our attitudes just a little too grumpy. As we approach the steps to Panem High, Rye slaps my back and I pat his arm roughly. We smile at each other before heading our separate ways. I don't catch Finnick or any of our other close friends on the way to my locker, but as I spin the lock, Delly Cartwright appears next to me.

"Hey Peeta," she beams.

"Hey Delly," I return, throwing her a friendly smile.

"I was just wondering if you were going to Gale's party tonight."

"Rye mentioned it, but I don't know if I'm gonna make it to this one."

"Oh, well, I really hope I see you there. I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Catch you later, Dell."

Delly leaves quietly and I make my way to first period English class. I slide into my seat next to Johanna Mason, and she winks hello at me. I laugh and wink back, and when I sit up straight after pulling my book from my backpack, I find a note on my desk.

We going to Gale's tonight?

Shit. Johanna's been into Gale for a while now, and she can give a pretty good guilt trip. And if Johanna has her mind set on going, I know our entire friend group will be in attendance too. For some reason, the idea that Katniss is going to be there scares me more than it excites me, so I evade the question.

Ask Finn.

Johanna shrugs and turns her attention to the blackboard.

I force my way through the swarms of students that crowd the cafeteria until I find my usual table in the middle of the huge room. Looks like I'm the last of the group to arrive. Finnick sits with his arm slung around Annie's shoulder while Johanna rolls her eyes at something he's said from across the table. Cato and Glimmer are lip locked, and I shrug, assuming that their on again off again relationship is currently on. I slide in just as Clove laughs so hard at one of Thresh's jokes that she sprays Marvel with an array of chewed up food. This gets me laughing too, and as soon as we all see the disgusted look on Marvel's face, we completely lose it, laughing until our sides hurt. Marvel is still scowling while the rest of the table lets out a few more giggles when I catch a glimpse of Katniss, sitting in the back left corner of the cafeteria with one other girl, Madge Undersee. I'm immediately distracted, and I notice my deep laugh retracting from the mix of voices that surrounds my table. Katniss is sitting right in my field of vision, and the sight of her completely consumes my thoughts. She's so beautiful. Her hair looks soft, even when it's clamped messily in a braid. She's petite, but not in a way that suggests weakness. She's almost constantly grimacing, but her face remains radiant. And her lips. Oh my god her lips. Full, even when she has them pressed into a thin line. I'd love to test the way they feel on mine. I'd love to feel the gentle curves of her body under my fingertips as we…

"Earth to Peeta," Johanna hisses, electing laughs from the rest of the group.

"You coming with us to Gale's tonight, or what?"

I glance up at Finnick, who's still attached to Annie. I obviously haven't been listening to the conversation, but I hold onto a hope that maybe Annie has convinced Finnick to do something else with her, and it won't be such a big deal if I don't go. I think of Katniss again and my stomach twists in knots. I want her so badly. That's the problem. If I go tonight, it'll be the perfect opportunity to make a move. I won't be able to stop myself from talking to her, touching her, kissing her, drawing her body into mine and…

"PEETA!"

Johanna is snapping her fingers in my face and I blink out of my daze.

"What's up with you today?" Annie asks.

"Eh, nothing, just zoned out a little bit. What about you? You going?"

I direct the question at Annie.

"Mmhh. It's gonna be a big one! Finn would die if we didn't go. And I don't think Jo would ever forgive me if I wasn't around to be her 'wing-woman.'"

She giggles and everyone laughs along, nodding in agreement. So that's that. Everyone is going. I know that I'll end up at Gale's tonight, but I make one last attempt to get out of it.

"I'm kind of exhausted. And I have a shift at the bakery early Sunday. And a ton of homework. And…"

"Sleep is for the weak, Peeta," Clove remarks.

"And homework?" I question.

"Homework is for the stupid," Glimmer adds. I guess she's finally extracted herself from Cato's mouth.

"Glimmer, that makes negative sense."

"Negative sense makes negative sense. Sense isn't negative."

"Awesome! So Peeta's coming tonight! Team up with me for beer pong?"

"Cato, I never said…"

"No way! I want Peeta."

"Thresh, you suck at beer pong."

"Exactly, which is why I need Peeta, he's the best we have!"

I rest my elbow on the table and prop my head up with my hand, defeated. If Katniss rejects me tonight, it's all over. No more dreaming. No more hoping. No more possibility that I'll ever be anything more to Katniss Everdeen than the boy who sits two desks away in math class and sells her baked goods.

Gray, like the fog on a summer morning right after a thunderstorm. Finnick shoves me through Gale Hawthorne's front door, and even though I stumble, even though there's already swarms of people in his house, I manage to make direct eye contact with Katniss Everdeen. I move to raise my hand in greeting, but before I get the chance, I'm being pulled to the ping pong table, lined with red solo cups. I win a few rounds and even manage to stay pretty sober, that is, until I team up with Madge Undersee. There are two reasons for my fall from greatness at the table. The first; Madge doesn't drink, therefore, I drink her share of beer. The second; our opponents. Thom eagerly took his place at the table as soon as a spot opened up. He wasn't the problem. He has terrible aim. Katniss, however, has impeccable aim. She was shoved to the table when Thom announced that he needed a partner. I nearly choked on my drink. I miss almost every shot I take from that point forward, using the fact that I'm drinking for Madge as a lame excuse. Sure, I'm buzzed, but I'm mostly just distracted by Katniss. After losing to them for the third time in a row, I've had about all I can take of this torture. I don't mean the losing. I lose to Rye every time we wrestle. I am not a sore loser. I mean standing across the table from Katniss, never meeting her eyes, never looking too long, never exchanging so much as a word. She's wearing a dress with her usual leather boots, although I'm pretty sure I've never seen her in anything except t-shirts and jeans. The light blue material hugs her in all the right places, accenting the delicate curve of her breasts and the wave of her hips. It ends above her knees, but her boots reveal only the top half of her muscular calves. Yeah, I really can't take this anymore.

"Okay, I surrender," I announce with a laugh.

Madge agrees and saunters away towards the kitchen. Thom follows. This is my chance.

I cross to the other side of the table and extend my hand to Katniss.

"Good game, I had fun."

She hesitates and my heart catches in my throat. Did I sound stupid? Is there something on my face? Does she not want to talk to me? Of course she doesn't. We don't talk. Why would she wanna talk? I almost walk away when she takes my hand and shakes it.

"Had fun losing?"

Her usual scowl disappears for just a second as her lips twitch up into a smirk. Her warm, soft hand fits perfectly into my large, calloused one. I'm filled with a newfound sense of bravery. Granted, most of it is probably in the form of liquid courage, but Katniss' fleeting smile also helps.

"No, had fun standing across from you for the past half hour."

"I… uh…"

"Wanna grab a drink with me?"

I motion towards the kitchen and she nods, leading the way. I fill two cups and hand one to her.

"That game was tiring," she says, taking a sip.

"Wanna sit down?"

"Okay."

I head towards a couch in the crowded area next to the ping pong table, but she takes my hand and pulls me in a different direction. I almost drop my cup. We end up in a more quiet room with fewer people and music that we can actually hear above the noise.

"Ah, better," she says, crashing onto the couch.

I sit next to her and we lapse into silence. I've finished my beer and I'm definitely light headed by the time I speak to her.

"Sing," I say.

"What?"

"Sing. Your voice is beautiful."

"I don't sing."

"Yes you do. Or, you did. When we were kids. The Valley Song. In music class."

"You remember that?"

"I think about it a lot."

Her brow furrows as if she's deep in thought, making a hard decision about something. I wish that I could read her, that we were closer, that we were so close I could know what she was thinking just by looking at her.

"I don't sing," she repeats.

I stay quite, and I'm thankful for my uncharacteristic silence, because she fills it without being prompted.

"Not since…"

She doesn't continue, though, and I don't make her. I'm thinking of taking her hand, kissing her cheek, saying something, when she finally opens her mouth and picks up the tune of the song. She sings along to the music pumping from the speakers and I think I feel my ears literally stick up straighter at the beautiful sound that is Katniss Everdeen's voice. I close my eyes and drink in every note, knowing that this might have to last me years. But, then again, maybe not. When the song ends, I realize that our hands are intertwined on the couch next to us. I don't remember if I took her hand or if she took mind.

"That was perfect, you're perfect," I say. "Katniss, I…"

She cuts me off with a finger to my lips, and once again, she's dragging me along behind her. I trail willingly in her wake until we're outside. The air is warm but refreshing and when the breeze blows, it ruffles my hair and blows the lose strands from her braid so that they frame her face. I want to push them back. I want to tug her hair lose from the tie and run my hands through it as I kiss her lips, her neck, her collar bone. So, I do. I push her against the brick wall of Gale's house in the fading sunlight, trapping her between my arms. She looks up at me with those hazy eyes, but still, I am unable to read her. I move slowly at first, barely grazing her lips, not wanting to overstep if she doesn't want this, if she doesn't want me. I'm fully prepared to be pushed away when she raises her hand, but instead, her hand curls in the fabric of my shirt and she pulls me closer against her body. She radiates heat. We are on fire. I press my mouth more forcefully to hers and swipe my tongue just under her bottom lip. At this, her mouth opens slightly, and I slide my tongue in. She moans as our lips collide and our tongues tangle. I let my hands roam into her hair, releasing it from it's braid so that it cascades down her back. My fingers run through the fine, soft strands and I think that I've never felt something so smooth in my entire life, finally understanding why Finnick is always playing with Annie's hair. I start peppering kisses on her cheeks, working my way to her neck, where I suck the tender flesh just above the dips at her collar. She arches into me and tugs at the roots of my hair, almost yanking my head back, but I don't let my lips leave her skin. When she runs her hands under my shirt and sinks her fingernails into my back, I groan with pleasure. This eggs her on, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I push her against the wall for leverage, cupping my hands under her ass. She makes a noise that's something like a squeak and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling us impossibly closer. We move together like this until my back aches from holding her and her feet finally find purchase on the ground.

"Katniss…" I start.

She cuts me off again, this time, with her lips. I melt against her and move my hand so that my fingers graze the skin at her hips, just under the hem of her shit.

"Yes, Peeta," she mumbles, and it's so sexy that I immediately move my hand to cup her breast.

She cradles my jaw in her hands as we kiss and I work her breasts, resenting the bra that conceals them more every second. When she sucks my bottom lip into her mouth, my eyes roll back just a little bit in my head and some of the strength in my legs goes out. I'm getting way to turned on by this, and eventually, I feel my erection starting to press into her thigh. She starts to involuntarily grind against me and I suddenly buck my hips into hers. We rub against each other until even that friction isn't enough.

"Katniss…" I start again.

"Follow me," she whispers.

And again, I comply.

We round the house and I've hardly had a chance to take in the backyard when she pushes me into an adirondack and deposits herself in my lap, straddling my hips.

"Nobody'll come back here," she tells me.

My thumbs press into the grooves at the small of her back and her hands wander to my stomach, where my muscles are tensed tightly with pleasure and anticipation. My balls throb and I utter her name under my breath.

"Peeta," she says, suddenly sounding collected and controlling.

I meet her eyes.

Then, she's undoing the button of my jeans and sliding them down to my ankles as I raise my hips for her. Slowly, she hooks her fingers into the elastic of my boxers and pulls them down too, freeing my erection. I kick my pants and underwear away. She stares as she spits into her hand, and I cup her chin in my palm, forcing her gaze to my eyes.

"You don't have to do this…"

"I want to."

Her voice gets low and sexy.

"I was hoping, though, that you'd return the favor."

I smile.

"I intend to."

With that, she grasps my dick, hard, and moves her hand slowly up and down the shaft.

"Peeta," she mumbles. "Tell me what you like."

"Just like that," I stutter. "But faster."

She circles the head with her finger, teasing me, pushing me further and further towards the edge, before finally wrapping her small hand back around the length of me and pumping faster.

A guttural sound escapes from my throat as I throw my head back, hands finding purchase in her hair yet again.

"Katniss… Katniss," I gasp. "Imgonnacome."

I slur the words under the influence ecstasy, not alcohol, and Katniss just picks up speed.

"Come for me, Peeta," she encourages.

At her words, I empty myself all over my stomach. I ride out my orgasm with my head buried into her shoulder, her hands roaming all over my stomach, my back, my arms, my thighs. I'm still trembling when she moves off my lap and crouches in front of me, spreading my legs and bringing her head to my abdomen. The sight of her lapping the come off of my front, placing kisses around my hips, gets me slightly hard all over again. When I finally catch my breath, I pull her back onto my lap.

"Your turn," I whisper in her ear.

I slide my hand under her dress, rubbing her over the cotton of her underwear. They're damp.

"My god, Katniss, you're so wet."

I continue to create friction, but don't move in just yet. I kiss her collar bone up to the skin just under her jaw, which I suck in between my teeth.

"Mmm… Peeta…" she says breathily.

She arcs her back and our lips collide, and when she starts to rotate her hips violently against me, I move aside her underwear and slowly slip one finger into her folds, then two. At the first curl of my fingers, she shouts my name into the night sky.

"Yes, Peeta!"

I slide in a third finger and move them all in tandem, intent on pleasuring her the way she did me. She bucks against my hand and I slide in even further, feeling her wetness and tightness around me.

"I'm close," she says against my lips.

When I find her clit and roll it between my thumb and my forefinger, her lips go still against mine and she grips my shoulders tight. I shove my fingers into her folds again, this time, all three at once. She comes chanting my name, clinging to me, chin digging into my shoulder. When she stops throbbing and I remove my hand, her whole body goes limp and I hold her against me. She rotates her body and swings her legs so that they drape over my thighs and I wrap my arms around her waist.

"I've dreamed of that for so long," I tell her.

I don't know what I expect her to say. I don't expect her to reciprocate, to say she's loved me deeply for years, watched me since we were kids, imagined being with me in every way possible.

She raises her head and looks me in the eyes, gray irises meeting blue ones.

"I'm gonna dream of this for so many nights to come."

"It won't always have to be a dream, if you'd like that."

"I'd like that."

I smile like a kid in a candy store, eliciting a brilliant grin from her. Not a smirk, but a full on smile, white teeth and all. I kiss her again, slowly, deliberately, and I feel that she's still smiling against my lips. I savor this, the look of her rosy cheeks and her understated dimples, the feeling of our bare legs pressed together, the scent of pine trees in the air.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever."

"Don't worry, I plan to get way more moments with you, Peeta Mellark."

"I'd like that."

"Walk me home? I don't live far."

I nod and scoop her off my lap, taking her hand and letting her lead me to her house. She hesitates at her door.

"Um… my Mom is working the night shift at the hospital, and my sister is sleeping at a friend's house, so it's just me. It's lonely without them, too quiet… and I get nightmares. Do you… maybe wanna stay with me? Just to sleep, or until I fall asleep, or… Never mind, I shouldn't have asked… It was…"

She stumbling on her words, almost stuttering, and it's adorable.

"Katniss," I interrupt. "It's okay."

"So… you'll stay with me?"

"Always."