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The last thing Katniss expected to celebrate was her divorce.
She came back into the house after a hunting trip, sweaty, messy, and happy. She wiped her hand across her forehead, leaving a smear of blood reminiscent of some of the weirder Capitol fashions.
“Peeta,” she called, familiar by then with the way her voice echoed in the massive entrance hall of their massive house. They were slowly collecting furniture and tapestries to dampen the noise, but sometimes her voice still echoed. On the bad days, it made her remember her voice echoing across the training room as she thanked the Gamemakers after shooting the apple out of the roast pig’s mouth. On good days, she hardly noticed it. That day was one of the good ones.
“Peeta,” she called again, “feel like making rabbit stew?” She walked into the kitchen, where she half-expected to see Peeta icing a cake.
Her catch dropped to the floor.
There was Peeta, alright, and a cake. There was also her mother, and Johanna, and Finnick and Annie. There was even Haymitch.
None of them shouted “Surprise!” They knew better than that. But as a grin spread across Katniss’s face and she ran to throw her arms around her friends, they all said it.
Finnick lounged against the countertop, Annie tucked into his side. “I told her she shouldn’t,” he whispered into Katniss’s ear, as he and Annie pulled her into a tight hug.
“Liar,” Johanna said conversationally. She punched Katniss in the shoulder in greeting.
“I did tell her not to,” Finnick said over Katniss’s head. “I just didn’t mean it.”
They all laughed.
“Told her not to what?” Katniss asked, hugging her mother, then Haymitch, who ruffled her hair.
Peeta tilted his head at the cake.
Katniss turned to appreciate it fully. She would have recognized it as Peeta’s work at a hundred paces, maybe even farther away. Even if it weren’t for the swirls done in his careful hand, it had been iced in their favorite colors. She wouldn’t have thought orange and green would go well together on a cake, but he made it work.
When she looked closer, she noticed thick black lettering on the top of the cake. The letters were shaky, but she still read them with ease: HAPPY DIVORCE!!!
Katniss laughed. “You shouldn’t have,” she told Johanna.
Johanna grinned a shark’s grin. “Couldn’t resist celebrating the happy occasion. Might be your only one.”
“That’s the plan,” Peeta said, pulling Katniss to his side.
Johanna handed them an axe. “For cutting the cake, brainless,” she said, correctly interpreting the look on Katniss’s face.
She took the axe and held it above the cake. “I don’t want to ruin your work,” she told Peeta.
“You won’t ruin it any more than Johanna already did.” He smiled sunnily as Johanna glared.
Pieces of cake flew everywhere as the axe sank home.
Brides and grooms in Twelve didn’t traditionally feed each other cake the way they did in some districts, but it seemed like a fun tradition. Katniss and Peeta each grabbed a handful of cake from the wreckage on the counter and turned to face each other.
Katniss didn’t know if it was the sort of thing you did while making a wish, but she had a wish to make, so she did. Then she smashed the bit of cake into Peeta’s face, just as he smashed cake into hers.
Katniss spluttered and spat pieces of cake out of her mouth. She accidentally inhaled frosting up her nose, choking and coughing. When she opened her eyes to look at Peeta, the frosting dotting her eyelashes tinted him green and orange.
It was strange how happy she was with cake all over her face having just divorced the love of her life, but then, what wasn’t strange in this brave new world?
Katniss smiled and pulled Peeta in for a frosting-sweet kiss.