A/N: This is a b-day gift for my dear friend Karebear. Published because she is a nice girl and wanted to share. :) Just a tiny story far far away from my usual style & comfort zone.

Happy birthday, Miss Karen!

Little Birthday Miracle

I couldn't wait for the snow to melt.

Of course, one can do all kinds of fun things in the snow, and I was lucky enough to have my feet warm in sturdy shoes. But as the spring neared, and the once-pretty white became all dull and gray, I couldn't wait for it to go away.

This year, it happened extra early, everything melted away after a day and a night of heavy rain. I couldn't have been happier.

Clear pavements meant my best friend would be able to draw on them again. If he'd still want to, that is. We got closer to being too big for such games every year, and today is his twelfth birthday.

Should kids old enough to be reaped be drawing on pavements? I don't know. But why ever not?

I hoped for one more picture at least. Maybe if I made him extra happy with a birthday treat and asked nicely…

I had only one coin, the first one I've ever been given, and I decided to save it for him. Happiness can't be bought, I know that well enough already and so does Peeta, I believe, but buying something for someone else can't hurt, right?

/

Oh no!

He had a nasty bruise on his cheek. On his birthday, too!

I didn't ask about it, Peeta never liked to talk about such things in school. Well, he never liked to talk about such things at all; he was always withdrawn on days when he was hurt.

At times like that, I never quite knew what to do. I wanted to wish him a happy birthday dozen times during the day, just to cheer him up, but thought better of it when he wouldn't meet my eyes. But I was there in case he needed me, as always.

Peeta seemed even worse than usual, even avoided me during recess and stood apart from all our friends. Staring at the opposite side of the schoolyard, his eyes misty and faraway.

Will my surprise cheer him up at least a little? I mused. Well, there is always hope.

/

After school, I hurried home to retrieve my precious hidden coin, and sneaked towards the bakery.

I crept to the corner first and glanced behind the building, to our piece of pavement.

I smiled.

Oh yes.

Peeta was already there, hunched and drawing. I left him to his own devices and quietly returned to the front door.

There was Mr. Mellark behind the counter, and I sighed in relief. I hoped I wouldn't meet Peeta's mom, who scared me a little, or one of his big brothers, who always made fun of me. The baker was usually cheerful, but today he seemed sad for some reason. He was still very nice, though, and gave me an extra big cupcake for my coin. Much bigger than I thought I'd get. I was happy about it, and Mr. Mellark obviously cheered up too.

I smiled at him and thanked him profusely, and nervously squeezed the crunchy paper wrapper as I left the bakery.

Maybe it was stupid after all, buying a cupcake to a baker's son. But I knew he never got to enjoy them, not even after he'd frosted them all beautiful, and I wanted to change that.

It wasn't fair, and I wanted to make the world a tiny bit fairer for my friend, at least on his birthday.

/

He must have finished the drawing by the time I returned, because he was just sitting there, huddled on the pavement. He's made it pretty, but it was still cold and hard.

My steps were everything but silent, but Peeta didn't look up at my approach, so I stared over his shoulder at the picture for a while.

He apparently didn't have many colors, just yellow and green, brown and black, and the grey of the pavement. Little stubs of chalk were ground into the concrete, stretched thin.

The picture…

It was a tiny black-haired girl picking a dandelion.

I frowned for a moment. Why would Peeta draw something like that? Why a girl who must have been from the Seam? We hardly ever talked to them - even though I never quite understood why, I'm sure we could be friends as well.

Then my pout melted into a smile.

That was really sweet of him. The kids from the Seam usually don't get to have nice things at all, so why not? We were too little to help anyone for real, but if we could at least imagine them having nice things, that was a good start, wasn't it? It would be wonderful if we could make the world a little fairer for everyone.

Maybe that's what Peeta wanted for his birthday?

"Hi," I said softly.

Peeta startled, looked at me, at the picture, and then back at me, red like an apple except for the huge purplish spot on the cheek. Okay, maybe an apple that fell from a high tree?

I grinned at him. "It's beautiful. The picture, I mean. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Well… thanks."

He blushed even harder.

I fidgeted. We've always been chatty, but right now, the words somehow got stuck… somewhere.

Do something, then, I thought.

I produced the little package from behind my back.

"Happy birthday!"

Peeta jumped up and almost fell as he did his best to avoid stepping on his picture and damaging it. His face was still red. And purple. Shame for the purple.

"T- thank you," he stammered, staring at me wide-eyed.

I waved my hand slightly, eager for him to take the gift.

He did, and opened it with trembling fingers.

"Wow…" he breathed, peering in. "It's… "

"Well, it's not really a gift," I said hastily, "since, you know, you have…"

"It is," he jumped in quickly. "It was my very favorite. But..." He hesitated for a moment, than started anew, words tumbling fast. "But ma said I couldn't have it, not even when pa said I could. And now you got it for me. This is a birthday miracle, right?" He gave me a huge smile, as bright as the yellow flower frosted on top of the cupcake. And for the first time today, he seemed all here, with me. "Thank you, Delly."

"You are most welcome." On impulse, I leaned in an almost-kissed his cheek.

His blush deepened again, and he suddenly glanced back down on the picture, as if it could see us.

/

Peeta repeated that a few more times - even as we were sharing the cupcake, huddled under the overhanging roof at the back of the bakery because it had started to rain again.

By the time we finished, the picture has melted.

Peeta still smiled at me, and we were back to chatting happily, our teeth sticky with sugary frosting, but he saddened whenever he looked at the patch of pavement that slowly turned into a shapeless puddle of color.

"Shame for such a pretty picture," I said. "But you can draw a new one tomorrow. The sun will shine, you'll see."

"Yeah. I hope so," he breathed, suddenly faraway again.

/

Maybe he just wanted the girl to share with us. After all, dandelions make people happy.