That was a Birthday one-shot for my very excellent and amazing friend @pagedancer87 (on Tumblr and AO3, anyway) who chose, of all things, a catfight and laser tag as her prompt.s
Triggers: Bullying and unwanted groping, play weapons, physical fighting.
It was a pretty typical Wednesday night at work. I was perched on my stool at the PT&T kiosk in the mall, spending more time on my own phone for boredom than having customers to sell one to. As kiosks went, it felt more like a hunter’s stand than an island in the middle of a tiled atrium; it was planted in the mall’s entertainment wing. The big megaplex entrance in front of me, a popular chain restaurant to the far side, and an arcade/laser tag center called The Arena right next to me made it pretty much the most frequented date destination of my high school classmates.
Not that I cared, but I usually knew who was with whom, or who was had broken up with whom, before everyone else.
Of course, I kept it to myself. Mostly because I wasn’t a gossip, but partly because my non-outgoing nature had made me unpopular and the target of bullying in recent years. Only two months before, the first week back from Christmas break, I’d gotten shoved face-first into my locker door by Glimmer Riley’s then-boyfriend Marvel.
He’d walked away with a black eye.
I’d walked away with my second warning for fighting in the year.
It was pretty clear Principal Coin was going to have a three-strikes-you’re-out rule when it came to me.
It was better to keep my mouth shut.
But when one couple walked out of the megaplex at a time which meant they’d caught the matinee of 75 Shades of Black, not only did I care, I was sick.
That the girl was Glimmer wasn’t a shocker; she went out a lot. She went through boyfriends so fast she probably had a frequent customer punch card for the megaplex.
That the boy was Peeta Mellark, generally adored and apparent all around nice guy, not to mention championship wrestler, was. Not because it was the least bit of a surprise Glimmer wanted to add him to the notches on her bra strap, but because even though we’d never talked, I’d sort of convinced myself he was well beyond swimming in the shallow end of the social pool.
As soon as I realized I was gawking, I tilted my head down over my phone. I didn’t want to be seen. And more than that, I didn’t want to see. I didn’t want to know. It was better not to think about Peeta Mellark at all.
Because while I had resigned myself to picking my way through to graduation as carefully and quietly as a solider trying to make it out from behind enemy lines, when the blue-eyed, dimple-grinned, blond-waves of the new-to-town baker’s boy had transferred in at the start of the year, I’d been powerless to avoid keeping track of him.
It would’ve been nice if I’d convinced myself it was only because he was cute and seemed like an honest-to-God good guy, which would mean my awareness of him was natural and nothing to be worried about. But it wasn’t that generic. His third day of school, I’d dropped my books in the hall between classes- Actually, one of Glimmer’s minions had knocked them out of my hand- and Peeta had helped me pick them up. It was the fact he’d bothered to stop in the middle of the busy hall to help me, the current class pariah- Not that he’d known that fact yet- and the way electricity had shot up my skin when my hands had touched his as I took my books from him.
And maybe it was also that the way he’d smiled and stared at me for a second had made my stomach flip.
But we hadn’t even had the chance to exchange names before Cato Riley, Glimmer’s brother, oozed his way out of the bustle of students, threw his arm around Peeta and drug him off, trying to make jock-talk with him.
After that it was a given he’d been clued in that I was the last person he should be seen with. Because he never approached me, talked to me, or looked at me again, except that he seemed to sense whenever I was weak and girly enough to still be watching him because he instinctively looked my way. His face was always in a frown and I always averted my eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Even though I shouldn’t have, I held my phone in front of me so I could watch without appearing to. They stopped in the middle of the atrium. To my joy, at the moment Glimmer tried to hook his hand with hers, he reached up and ran it through his hair.
It might have been my imagination, but his expression seemed strained. He stared at The Arena for a moment, considering, shook his head, and then started walking for it. The path brought him right by my kiosk.
I lowered my phone and dipped my head further forward, trying to disappear.
“Forget it, Peeta,” I heard Glimmer say. I risked looking up. She had her arms crossed and hadn’t followed. “I told you before the movie, I’m not going to play laser-tag.”
He stopped, jaw tight and nostrils widening as he forced out an irritated breath.
“You said that if I let you pick the movie, then we could do something Iactually wanted to do after.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining about my choice,” she said, and then came up to him and grabbed his shirt, a blue button-up he’d donned instead of his usual t-shirt and varsity jacket. She tugged down and pressed her boobs into him, flirting and looking for a kiss. “Come on, Peeta, let’s go do something really fun.”
I wanted to vomit.
Just at the moment I could see her start to lift on her toes and Peeta trying to decide whether to pull away, I coughed loudly.
Hacked, really.
Like I was a cat dealing with a very nasty fur ball.
I couldn’t help it.
It would have sent me to a premature grave, having that imagine burned into my retina.
Both their heads turned to me, but I pretended to be engrossed in my phone and oblivious.
But I could feel Glimmer staring daggers. She was a girl. She knew what I was doing. And she already hated me.
It went back to the year before. Her bother for some reason decided that since I was the school leper, and he’d man-whored his way through all the willing girls in school, I should be grateful for his offer to take me on as a temporary distraction. He’d made a mistake that had cost both of us; he’d tried to apply his leering charm in the very public cafeteria, which had forced me into the position of having to make an equally public refusal.
All I’d really done was stare at my lunch tray and mumble “No, thanks,” but the entire varsity squad had been watching and had erupted round of taunts and teases of Cato for the crash and burn. Since then, his sister had had it out for me.
When I finally looked back up, Peeta was pushing Glimmer away so there would be space between them.
“Come on, Glimmer,” he complained. “I watched that movie, you play laser tag with me.”
“You sound like you didn’t like it.”
He was clearly trying to avoid being rude, but he also clearly hadn’t liked it.
“Most guys would’ve loved to watch that movie with me, Peeta. And not only would most of them had put their arm around me, at least, most of them would not be trying to follow that up with something as dumb as laser tag.”
“Well, I’m not ‘most guys’ then, I guess, Glimmer.”
I barely suppressed my snicker.
The Glimmer flickers!
Go Peeta!
You’re restoring my faith in the male gender one refusal at a time.
“Come on, let’s do this. With school work and working at the bakery, I haven’t gotten to come here for weeks. I love this place.”
I raised my eyebrows behind my phone. I worked three afternoons a week, plus all day Saturday. I hadn’t noticed him come by. And I usually stuck around and played myself on Friday and Saturday nights for when the big crowds always piled out of the Megaplex from the new premiere showings. But maybe with his schedule he came by earlier in the week.
He gave her a hopeful smile and she reluctantly followed him to the counter just inside the door.
“See,” he said, getting excited as he pointed to twentieth place on the leader board pinned to the wall, “that’s me.”
He was on the board?
Go Peeta!
And how cute is it he believes being ranked 20th means he’s actually any good?
I leaned partially out of the kiosk to see better.
I couldn’t read the handle he was pointing to, but if memory served, it belonged to The Froster who hovered around 20th place. It made sense; his family owned a bakery and I’d never actually met “The Froster.”
I smiled suddenly, unexpectedly happy. I’d made fun of the handle before as incredibly corny, but the idea of Peeta being sweet and corny only made me like him more.
The guy who ran the place, a gruff named Haymitch who I often spent slow afternoons shooting the breeze with, wandered out of the arcade side and stepped behind the counter, hands jingling the quarters in his change apron. For some reason he’d had attached to me as a sort of niece to his black-sheep-of-the-family-uncle persona. He looked from Peeta to Glimmer and back again before raising his eyebrows. Then his eyes shifted and caught me watching them, and he gave a quick nod her way as if to say, get-a-load-of-her.
He pulled two vests down from the storage shelf behind him and pushed them across the counter without being asked.
“Haven’t seen you for a while, boy.”
Peeta was almost vibrating with excitement as he picked one of the vests up, “I know. Mom’s been making me work Sunday afternoons.”
Haymitch nodded.
Peeta held the vest out to Glimmer, looking hopeful, “Two?”
She took it, rubbed her fingers together like it was dirty and pulled a face before putting it back on the counter.
“Forget it. I’m not about to put that thing over this blouse.” She glared at Haymitch, “Don’t you ever clean them?” And to Peeta, she said impatiently, “If I wasn’t being clear, I want to do something more adult”
Haymitch snorted and then mouthed the words ‘more adult’ to me on the q-t.
“I want to do this,” Peeta said, voice strained. I really hoped he’d just walk away, or maybe that she’d give up and storm off. It wasn’t like it would make a difference in my life; I would still never work up the courage to go talk to him. But all the same, it would make me feel better.
But Peeta, always the polite guy I’d observed from a distance, didn’t lose his temper. Instead, he sighed and relaxed his expression, “Look, how about this. You go over to the restaurant and order an appetizer, and I’ll play a round here and then I can drive you home.”
“Sorry kid,” Haymitch interrupted. He pointed to the two television displays overhead which listed the players for each of the two teams. Both monitors were blank. “If the girl here isn’t going to play, there’s no opponent for you. Thursdays are slow nights as it is, and we won’t be getting anyone until the non-chick flick movies start letting out in another twenty minutes.”
“See,” Glimmer tugged on Peeta’s arm. “Let’s go. It’s stupid anyway. And instead of driving me home, how about we go for a drive.”
I wanted to vomit again.
She meant drive to Slag-Lane, undoubtedly.
Make-Out Lane was more like it.
Haymitch turned away from them and looked like he was going to cough, but really he was just turning to an angle so I alone could see him put his finger in his throat as if to gag. He’d been around long enough to know what she meant too.
Peeta extracted his arm, “Glimmer, no. I know what you’re suggesting. And first, this is a first date and I don’t work like that. Second, I don’t see why you’d even expect me to put out when you won’t be bothered to do something I like.”
Played that wrong, skank.
Go Peeta!
I’m starting to really like you.
“Fine,” she said, trying to control her own temper. Pretty much every non-attached girl at the school was aware of Peeta, not just me; he wasn’t a fish she wanted to slip the hook, if for no other reason than not wanting the other girls to think she’d been refused. She honeyed her voice, “Let’s go settle into the restaurant until people show up and then I’ll wait while you play a round.”
“No, forget it, let’s just go,” Peeta said, frustrated. “I’ll just take you home now.”
“Actually,” said Haymitch, interjecting and scratching at the unkempt stubble on the bottom of his chin, “come to think of it, I do know where you can find an opponent right now, if you don’t want to wait.”
Haymitch’s eyes flitted up to mine and he stared at me so Peeta would follow his gaze. I shook my head frantically, but had to stop as soon as Peeta turned around.
“She’s wicked good in there, so she’ll definitely give you your money’s worth. And if I’m not mistaken, the kiosk hours end,” he held his watch up dramatically, lying, “Oh, about now, as a matter of fact.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
Glimmer, who had looked my way too, flashed me a look of murder before sliding her arm under Peeta’s, “You know, you’re right. It’s not fair we only do what I want. Let’s play a round and get it over with.”
She tried to tug him back around, but his feet and body were planted and he continued to stare at me.
It made my stomach flip the same way it had that first day in the hall.
“Peeta,” she said, a flash of frustrated anger coming through.
That got his attention, unfortunately. He shook his head like he was clearing it and then stared down at the floor and sighed, “Fine. Let’s go get something to eat and then we’ll see what happens after that.”
No!
Don’t go, Peeta!
I’m such a loser for even caring.
I pretended to not watch them walk over to the restaurant, just like I pretended I wasn’t feeling his every step deflate my heart.
As soon as the hostess took them inside, I shot a glare at Haymitch to redirect some of my emotion. Anger was so useful.
He shrugged, “Hey, sweetheart, I tried.”
Struggling with feelings of rejection I knew I had no business having, and also irritation that Haymitch had picked up on my interest, I took my frustration out on the cabinets and drawers as I spent the next five minutes closing down the kiosk.
“Hey, Katniss?”
I jumped. It was Peeta. He was standing in front of the kiosk, rubbing the back of his neck and looking uncomfortable.
He knows my name?
Why do you know my name, Peeta?
Oh, wait, because I’m the school joke.
“Peeta,” I nodded, feeling awkward.
He blinked once and then his arm dropped and he relaxed, even smiled, “Hey, you know my name.”
It was my turn to blink. Why would he even care if I knew his name?
I probably should have said something more, but I was dumbed by some internal, debilitating noise, like fire alarm bells going off in my head. I looked down for a moment, bit my lip, and then turned my attention to pulling down the last steel cover on the kiosk.
He waited for me to finish and step out so I felt obligated to look at him again. His eyes darted towards the restaurant, and then back to me, “Say, is it true? About you being good in the Arena?”
My higher functions were still trying to reboot, so I nodded dumbly.
“Would you, uh, be willing to go a round with me?” He added quickly, “I’ll pay.”
I swallowed.
I really want to say yes.
Peeta, I really want to say yes.
But what the heck, you went on a date with Glimmer!
Which made me hurt, made me worried there’d be some retaliation from her if I did say yes, and, frankly, made me a bit upset he was asking another girl to do something with him while his date was on ice next door.
I was just about to say no, with probably a bit of overkill on the attitude, but Haymitch appeared, hands rooting around loudly in his change apron.
“Sure she will,” he answered for me. “Come on, kiddos.”
Peeta smiled and went readily when Haymitch clapped a hand on his shoulder and started leading him back.
My feet took me over, even though my head was screaming to run.
Peeta tried to pay for both of us, but Haymitch refused, “The girl’s ticket’s on me this time.” He looked at me and winked, “Because I suggested it.”
Haymitch, you’re such a liar.
“Cool, thanks,” Peeta said. I shook my head at his naivety.
Haymitch pushed a vest my way and I took it with a scowl.
I let Peeta disappear into the Blue team’s prep room before whispering to Haymitch, “Is he really ‘The Froster’?”
Haymitch only half-swallowed his snort, but nodded.
I rolled my eyes and then retreated to my own team’s prep room, where I strapped on my vest, walked straight past the laser-rifles lined up on the general-use rifle rack to pull my own from a private storage locker. It wasn’t really mine, but I’d earned the privilege of using the low-use unit, the one the general public wasn’t allowed to manhandle and bang around to the point of losing its sensitivity and responsiveness. Plus, it had the bonus feature that shots to it didm’t count against me as a kill shot.
All it took was the feel of the rifle’s stock butted snugly into my shoulder to evaporate whatever stupid emotions about a stupid boy I was desperately trying not to stupidly have. When the klaxon signaling the start of the match went off, I stepped into the fog, pulsing electronic music and strobing lights of the Arena.
One-hundred-percent lethal.
The Froster was going down.
I shot him the first time within fifteen seconds by rushing through the maze of obstacles to where the opposing team’s entrance was and ambushing him. He groaned while his vest and laser rifle lit up like a Christmas tree, blinking for the mandatory seven second neutralization period as I slipped back into the fog.
I shot him the second time two minutes later, anticipating his move to find the safety of the central high-ground formation, an elevated feature I’d personally labeled the Cornucopia.
He gave a frustrated grunt and frowned at me, vest and weapon once again blinking and glimmering in the machine-made fog. I kept my face neutral and retreated to take up my new position.
Another three minutes and I was perched up on a rectangular obstacle about eight feet high, waiting for him to prowl through.
“You’re dead, Peeta,” I growled before taking the shot.
This time, because of where I was, there was no simple way to run off. As I shimmied down the little tower, Peeta’s warm hands unexpectedly settled on my sides to make sure I made the drop safely.
“That was cheating,” he complained, voice raised to be heard above the music. “You’re not allowed to climb the obstacles!”
“Says who,” I shouted back.
His mouth shaped into an “O.” I could see realization dawn on him that he’d made a wrong assumption.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is the difference between the hard core Friday and Saturday players and the Sundays softies.
Don’t worry Peeta, maybe next time.
Not.
But having broken the silence of the competition, for some reason neither of moved, standing awkwardly with our rifles hanging at our sides.
“You’re really good at this,” he said, leaning in so he wouldn’t have to all-out shout.
“Thanks.” I looked down and bit my lip when I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Katniss…” I looked back up because the way he said my name sounded serious. His eyes, dark in the dim chaos that was the Arena, drilled into mine like they had when Haymitch first pointed me out in the kiosk. My heart started racing and my stomach twisted up as I waited for him to complete what he wanted to say to me.
But whatever it was went unsaid.
Because when he said my name for a second time, it came out as a shouted warning.
Too late.
My vest was vibrating and dancing with light.
Great, I’ve been killed.
Thanks, Peeta.
As a consolation prize for being a stupid-head, I’ve lost a point from my all-time score.
“Hey, bro! You’re not supposed to warn her,” came a shout above the music. I felt the floor shake slightly as my assassin jogged up to us. I knew from the voice who it was without turning around. “I’m on your team!”
Peeta looked at me apologetically.
To the other guy he shouted, “Sorry.”
To me he mouthed, “Are you okay?”
I’m not sure why his concern offended me me, but it did.
“I’m fine, Peeta,” I huffed.
I looked back at Finnick Odair, “Trident” on the leader board, a college kid with a talent for laser tag, and a regular on Friday and Saturday nights. We could be excellent teammates, when necessary, but above all we were competitors. I’d given him a foolish handicap when I’d assumed no one else would walk in and join the game mid-round.
Finnick looked at me like I had a horn growing out of my head when I didn’t run off and try to find cover before my vest reactivated. I could see on his face the moment he realized that instead of my normal huntress persona, I was simply a girl being awkward in front of a boy. I scowled, which only confirmed it for him. To add to my humiliation, he gave me a wink and a grin to make sure I knew he knew.
Still wearing his grin, he held his hand out to Peeta, “Trident.”
Peeta’s face lit up, “Wow! Awesome! I can’t believe you’re on my team!”
I suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there.
“I need to go,” I grumbled, uncaring whether I’d spoken loud enough for either of them to actually hear. I unsnapped my vest and shoved it and my rifle into to Finnick’s chest before walking out, “He can take over for Team Red.”
I didn’t even bother looking at Peeta.
I was done with all men.
For the rest of my life.
“What’s the matter, Kat,” Finnick teased after me, “feeling a bit flushed?”
I flipped him off and disappeared into the maze, navigating myself out to the prep room and then slipping past the black curtain and into the main area.
I leaned against the wall, heart thudding and cheeks burning.
“Not supposed to swap vests, sweetheart,” said Haymitch from behind the counter.
“Bite me,” I growled.
He only gruffed back at me from behind the counter and then turned to reprogram the name on my vest over to Finnick’s for the purposes of our leader board scores.
I looked up to the monitors to see how Peeta was faring.
Not well.
He’d already been killed once, and it had only been sixty seconds.
I was tempted to go back in on Peeta’s team just to pick off Finnick, but before I could, I realized Glimmer was standing off to the side and glaring at me. For all I knew, she’d been there the whole match watching Peeta and I on the monitors.
“Get your own boyfriend, Katpiss.”
My hands clenched involuntarily.
Don’t say anything, I told myself. I knew what she wanted to do: Incite me and give Principal Coin the excuse she needed to expel me.
Well it wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t going to bite.
Her eyes went down to my knuckles, and then she grinned. Glimmer wasn’t afraid of a fight. She’d had a handful herself in middle school, almost always over boys. By high school, her reputation had preceded her and most girls backed off when she blustered.
I heard my heartbeat in my ears, pounding with fear. Not of her, but of being kicked out of school. I couldn’t afford it, not with college just round the corner and a partial archery scholarship waiting for me.
I wasn’t going to let Glimmer blow that for me.
I started to walk away, but she stepped in front and blocked me.
“Where you going, Katpiss,” she cooed, taunting me. “Don’t you want to talk about how much you’re in love with Peeta?” She stepped right up into my face, “About how you’ve been pining away for him since he transferred? About how you stare at him so longingly from across the cafeteria?” Her fake smile turned acid, as did her voice, “About how he never notices? About how you don’t even register on his radar? About how he stares at my lips and my hair and my legs in Algebra while he doesn’t even have a clue you’re in the same room?”
“Stop it,” I said, forcing breaths out my nose to slow them, calm them.
The pounding in my ears turned to ringing. I had to get out of there.
I tried stepping around her again.
Again, she stepped in my way, this time pushing against my arms with her hands.
I needed a witness. I might even need help. I looked over to the counter, but Haymitch was missing.
Damn.
“Yeah, poor, dumb Peeta. You know,” she sneered, “I might actually just let you have him. Since he apparently has zero clue what to do with an actual girl. You know he’s got a great body and a great smile, but there’s not too much else there. In fact-”
“Stop it,” I warned.
“In fact,” the gloating look on her face told me she knew she had me. “In fact, he’s pretty much as stupid as a box of rocks.”
“Don’t say that about him,” I growled.
“What? That he’s stupid? Too stupid to have any clue half the school makes fun of his Mr. All-American, gosh-darn-I’m-such-a-good-guy personality? That we all think its pathetic, but it’s so much fun, and he’s so gullible, that it’s impossible to resist playing along and pretending just so we can make jokes behind his back? That pretty much all he’s good for is his body?”
“Good, I’m glad you don’t like him,” I managed to say between clenched teeth, “because he deserves so much better than you.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Katpiss, I am going to keep going out with him. In fact, as soon as we leave this dumpy place, I’m going to make sure I get my hands all over him on the drive home. First, I’m going to reach over while he’s driving and put my hand on his knee. And then I’m going to run my hand up, up, up, Katpiss, to that secret spot that-”
“Stop it,” I warned again, taking a step back and shoving my hands in my pockets to make sure I didn’t throw the first blow. I tried to step around again, but she stepped in front. There was still no Haymitch.
“And then I’m going to do things to him, Katpiss, things that will rock his world. Things he would never let a freak like you do to him. And I’m gonna let him put his hands all over me. Hands he would never put on someone as gross and disgusting and pathetic as you. And so when you see him in the hallway tomorrow, and he’s walking tall, and I’m right beside him, you’ll know.”
“Fine,” I grunted, not really fine with it, but I didn’t have any claim to Peeta.
And I wanted to graduate.
And I wanted to keep my scholarship.
And I really wanted to break her nose.
But I held on. I didn’t move. I stood frozen, still, controlling my rage and humiliation and pride.
It disappointed her when I didn’t swing. I saw the recalculation in her eyes.
“And to think, he won’t even know I think he’s such a loser. He won’t,” she bumped chests with me, “even know that the whole time I’m getting what I want from him, I’ll just be telling all my girlfriends behind his back what a pitiful, pliable hunk of meat he is.”
“Shut up,” I shouted.
And suddenly, I was on the floor, rolling around and fighting for my life.
She was yanking at my hair, ripping some of it out, and swiping at my face with her nails. She got a good knuckle-hit in, and then I felt the sear of her nails swiping down my neck. I threw my forearms up to cover my eyes, accidentally catching her in the jaw with my fist. She was screaming widely, like I was the one killing her and not the one under attack. And I was vaguely aware of my own voice screaming back, calling her names as I tried to wrestle her off me.
The onslaught seemed to go on forever, to the point that I felt my resolve waiver and was about to fight back, about to end the fight, but suddenly I was being yanked from behind. Someone was yelling at me, yelling my name, tightening their arms around me painfully.
I lashed out, because it meants that somehow one of Glimmer’s allies had shown up to join the fight and I was out-numbered. The new attacker tried to push me down onto my back, but I kicked and forced a roll, desperate to get on top so I get away.
But whoever my opponent was, they were too strong and too quick. We rolled again, faster than I could process, their knees going around my hips and pinning me flat-backed onto the floor as they held my hands by the wrists stretched above my head.
I struggled, but a booming, “Stop!” made me still.
My eyes started to focus again.
It was Peeta Mellark angled above me, eyes wide and dark and chest heaving.
The strange combination of fear-adrenaline and excitement made me squirm once more. He grunted, and his hands pressed down as a sign to stop. I submitted, letting my wrists slack under his palms.
Glimmer was still screaming, and movement made me turn my head. Both Finnick and Haymitch were restraining her, each holding one of her arms.
I didn’t want to look at her.
So I looked back up at Peeta.
And processed that whatever position he had me in must be some sort of wrestling hold.
It made something inside my stomach kick my other organs around like a hackysack.
Wow.
Peeta Mellark, you’re a really good wrestler.
And you’ve got really strong hands.
Every muscle in my body wanted to squirm again. Possibly squirm away. Possibly squirm into.
But whatever my body thought of the unexpected position, Peeta seemed unaffected.
He shook his head at me sadly.
"Katniss,” he said like he was the one regretting the conflict, “not another fight. You’re going to get yourself expelled.”
How on earth did he know I was on warning for that? The whole school knew I’d been brought in twice to Coin’s office, but why would it register with him as an immediate thought I was in danger of being kicked out of school? And why did he sound worried about me? He didn’t even know me.
I didn’t know which was worse, that he was concerned for me, or that he was clearly also disappointed.
For some reason, I felt tears threatening. That made me angry. I jerked my head to the side so I wouldn’t have to look at him, wouldn’t have to look at him looking at me and not liking what he saw.
“Katniss, please,” he pleaded, though I wasn’t sure what he was pleading for.
"None of those were my fault,” I whispered back, wounded that he thought me capable of such bad behavior. But I was also so ashamed of how I’d been victimized, of being weak enough to be victimized, that I couldn’t give a full defense of myself.
He lifted one of his hands off mine, and pushed hair away from my face.
"You’re hurt,” he winced, sighing through his nose, the puff of air tickling my skin. And then he ran his fingertips gently along the line of pain I knew must be scratches on my cheek. The touch made my arms goose-bump, and he tilted my chin up so he could see how far the scratching trailed down my throat.
He winced again.
“None of those fights were my fault,” I whispered again, looking at him finally, depressed. I hadn’t told anyone else, except Coin, who hadn’t believed me or hadn’t cared, about Cato. That Cato had tried to grab my boob when we happened to be alone in the hall, both of us occidentally out on pass to use the restrooms. He was apparently still upset about my having turned him down and was looking for any way to make me feel weak and humiliated. I had batted his hand away, and threatened him, but he’d kept following me, tauting me, and calling me terrible things, so I’d finally shoved him away from me so hard he’d fallen and his cheek had hit a water fountain. He’d gotten a bruise he deserved, and I’d gotten a write-up I didn’t. And when Marvel had rammed into me “accidentally” with his shoulder face-first into that locker door, I’d started throwing elbows and gave him a black eye. I’d gotten written up, because the only people around were Glimmer’s friends.
“I only ever defended myself,” I felt tears slip down the sides of my face, and felt my body shudder with a well of emotion, shame, hurt, the need for someone to believe me. “It’s always been Glimmer and Cato.”
“She attacked me,” Glimmer suddenly shouted, going on the defensive, and I only then realized she’d finally shut up in the first place. She grabbed onto Finnick as though she needed protection and hadn’t just been needing to be restrained. “She attacked me! Look at the scratches on my arms! I’m calling the police!”
"Let’s do that, darlin’,” Haymitch said, voice low and controlled in a way I knew meant he was very, very angry. “See that right there?” He pointed out to a video camera on the wall. “That’s gonna show everything I just saw from the back room security feed. Which was you launching at Katniss without provocation. You hitting Katniss. And it’s sure as hell gonna show Katniss busy minding her own damn business and trying to get away from you.”
Peeta looked away from me to study her.
She’s the mutt, not me.
See through her, Peeta.
Believe the best about me and not the worst.
He blew out another breath, and then shook his head at her, dismissing her.
When he looked back to me, every cell in my body reminded me he was still on top of me, restraining me. Was he aware that his hips pressed down slightly for just a moment as we looked at each other? He didn’t look like it. He didn’t look like it, but a shiver, and a fire, and a thrill, and terror went up from the place between my legs all the way into my chest.
I needed him to get off me.
Almost as much as I needed him not to.
His eyes roved over my face again, following the scratches. I was breathing hard because of him, and I hoped he assumed it was only from the struggle with Glimmer.
"Are you okay,” he asked?
“What about your date?” Glimmer started for us, hot and ready for a fight again, maybe even a fight with him, but Finnick and Haymitch intercepted her, throwing their hands up as they corralled her away from us.
Peeta snapped at her, “What about you, Glimmer? Next time, ask Marvel out. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to take you out to Slag Lane again.”
"Are you okay,” he asked me again, face flushed with anger.
I swallowed and nodded, only vaguely hearing Haymitch tell Glimmer she was trespassed and that he was escorting her out.
Whether it was butterflies or other tinglings fluttering up my body, I shivered again when he didn’t move but just kept staring at me.
Every inch of contact between us felt like my skin was burning.
Time stopped.
Until Finnick cleared this throat.
“Hey, you two need some privacy?”
Peeta snapped out of it, and seemed to realize for the first time that he was on top of me, pinning me down. His eyes went wide with horror.
“Oh my gosh. I am so sorry, Katniss.” I tried not to act hurt by the way he scrambled off me like I was contagious. But at least, rather than move away from me, when he got to his feet he reached down, took my hands and tugged me up.
He also didn’t let go of my hands, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, the way I squeezed his hands wasn’t intentional, but it made my heart skip when he squeezed them back.
We both watched as Glimmer stalked across the atrium towards the mall exit. She was on her cellphone, screaming at whichever unlucky person was on the other end to come pick her up. When she was out the door, we looked back at each other, realized we were still holding hands, yanked them apart, then looked away just as quickly. Peeta rubbed at the back of his neck.
“So, uh…” he gave me a pained smile, “sorry about that. It was my fault. I got mad at her in the restaurant and told her she could keep herself company for the rest of the evening right before I came over to ask you to play.”
“It’s not your fault, Peeta. She and Cato’ve been gunning for me for a long time.”
“Why?”
I shook my head. Who could explain bullies? The trick was to survive.
“Long story,” was all I wanted to offer. Saying more would only be me exposing my own humiliation. I didn’t want to do that in front of anyone, especially not him.
“You gotta give me something more than that.”
“Cato’s not my type, and I’ll leave it there.”
“Oh.” He bit his lip and thought for a moment. “Yeah, his sister’s not my type either; but she wouldn’t leave me alone and finally I said yes.”
“Oh,” I said, and bit my lip.
“You, uh, you’re pretty good. At laser tag I mean. You sure did kick my butt in there.”
I shrugged, embarrassed. And I didn’t want to say that it hadn’t really been a challenge.
His face flushed after a few seconds of us still standing awkwardly across from each other, “You… Does half the school really laugh at me behind my back?”
“No, Peeta. Pretty much everyone adores you, actually. She was just saying that to get under my skin.”
“Oh. Does that mean, uh… Do, uh… I don’t suppose that means…” He looked down and scuffed the carpet with his shoe. “Aw, forget it. Well, thanks for sticking up for me, anyway.”
I shrugged again.
“Well,” I looked around, feeling even more embarrassed when I caught Finnick grinning and Haymitch mouthing at me to make a move, “I should probably go home. It’s been a long day.”
“Oh. Yeah, right.” I refused to let myself believe he actually sounded disappointed. I started to go, but he cleared his throat. “Say, Katniss?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t suppose… Well I realize…” He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced, “Aw, just come out with it, Peeta.” He straighted his shoulders like he was bolstering his courage and looked right at me, “Glimmer’s right about one thing. I’ve never seen you watching me across the cafeteria, and frankly I didn’t even think you knew I existed, but I do watch you. A lot. I don’t watch her in class, I watch you. You say Cato’s not your type. I’m sure I’m not lucky enough be your type either, but you’re definitely mine.” He sucked in a breath, “Katniss Everdeen, would you be willing go on a date with me this weekend?”
Huh. He knew my last name too.
Haymitch wagged his head up and down emphatically and Finnick was making a kissy-kissy face. I wanted to punch them both, but I was also surprisingly flattered.
And giddy.
I’m not going to let on that I’m giddy.
Peeta, no, you’re not going to see me look like a giddy little girl.
I’m just going to scowl.
But he was biting his lip again, and he looked so hopeful I felt the pressure of it in my chest like a batch of warm cookies fresh from the oven… because no one had ever looked at me before hoping that I would like them.
Okay, fine, so I smiled.
And nodded.
And then the heat rising again in my cheeks made me look down, because I couldn’t keep the damn smile off my face.
“Great!” Peeta ducked his head so his face would be in my field of vision; he looked genuinely thrilled. My stomach flopped again. “And uh, maybe… Maybe we could do the laser tag thing again? I’d love a rematch.”
“Careful man,” Finnick snorted and then started chuckling. “You’ll have your hands full with that one. The only reason I don’t get to play free like she does, or get the good rifle, is because the only name above mine on the leader board is hers.”
“You’re The Mockingjay,” Peeta exclaimed, like I was some sort of hero. “I’ve been keeping track of your score for months! You’re awesome!”