Chapter Text
“Stop squirming.” His mother snapped as she ran the comb through his hair, “You want to look nice, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mama.” Peeta winced as she pulled on his scalp.
“I can’t find my shirt,” Ryen ran into the bathroom where their mother was doing Peeta’s hair.
“I ironed it and hung it up on the rack,” His mother said bitterly, looking at her son in the bathroom mirror.
“I looked on the rack already,” He protested.
“Well, look again, it's there!” She snapped, and Ryen jumped, backing away.
“I swear I have to do everything for you boys,” She said more to herself than Peeta.
The Mellark house was always a whirlwind on Reaping Day. This year, more than ever now all three boys were to participate in the ceremony. It was Peeta’s first Reaping, and he was nervous even though he had no reason to be. Being twelve and never taking out Tessera, his name was only in the bowl once. Still, he was woken last night by nightmares of his name being picked by the eccentrically dressed capital woman. It was impossible, almost. That’s what he kept telling himself.
“You're done, go downstairs.” His mother slammed the comb on the sink, swiftly leaving the bathroom.
Peeta looked at himself in the mirror. All three boys slicked their pale blond hair back with gel, which made Peeta’s skin crawl. When it went on, it was slimy and cold, and then it hardened until it was solid. But they looked clean, and that’s what mattered. His mother cared more about how the boys looked on Reaping Day than the actual outcome of the ceremony. Everyone bathed, hair styled, shirts and pants pressed, and shoes shined. Why it mattered, Peeta didn’t know; they would be on television, sure, but no one was looking at him unless he got picked, then again, that was always possible, it was better to look well-groomed then.
“Get out, I need to get ready,” Deric, Peeta’s oldest brother, leaned in the doorway.
Deric was seventeen, today was his second-to-last year in the Reaping. Peeta was seven when Deric went to his first Reaping, and from that day to this, Deric never seemed scared. Maybe he was confident in his odds; they were good after all, or maybe he didn’t care whether he got Reaped or not. Ryen was fourteen and always put on a brave face, but Peeta could tell he was not as unbothered as he pretended. Both were faring better than Peeta, who was a bundle of nerves. After he had woken from his nightmare, it took everything in him not to run for his father or brothers.
Peeta now took this time to hug Deric when his mother wasn’t looking. Ever since he turned twelve, she had been hounding him to stop being “the baby.” He was of Reaping age and therefore too old for that kind of behavior.
“Come on, Peeta, you’ll be alright,” Deric patted his back, then pulled away, grasping Peeta’s shoulders. Deric looked him up and down, “Still got a bit of growing to do,” He said about Peeta’s outfit, which was a hand-me-down of Deric’s, well, it was Deric’s, then Ryen’s, then Peeta’s.
“Me? Look at the state of you,” Peeta teased, looking at Deric’s kakis, which were too short so that his entire ankle was exposed.
“Alright,” Deric pushed him gently, “Go downstairs and wait with Pa.”
Peeta left the bathroom to see Ryen, dressed fully except for his shirt, which was apparently still missing. Peeta was halfway downstairs when he heard his mother cry. “Well, it didn’t just grow legs and walk away!”
“Well, don’t you look grown,” His Father said from behind the bakery counter where he was serving Miss Ness, the seamstress in the merchant sector of District Twelve. She was an older lady whose children were all well past Reaping age.
“What a handsome little thing,” Miss Ness hurried over to Peeta and planted a wet kiss on his cheek, which most certainly left lipstick on his face. “I remember when you were this big,” She made a vague gesture with her hands, “Now look at you!”
She said the same thing every time she saw him. He would never understand why adults were so shocked when children grew, that was the whole point.
“Thank you,” Peeta smiled politely.
Miss Ness went back over to the counter to pick up her order. “Will I be seeing you after the ceremony?” She asked Peeta’s father.
Miss Ness was by far the richest of the Townies, not that anyone had much money to spare, merchant or otherwise, except maybe the mayor’s family. But Miss Ness would hold a Reaping Day dinner after the ceremony each year to which all the merchant families were invited; since the merchant kids usually survived every year, it served as a nice way to celebrate the eighteen-year-olds as they made it through the whole ordeal unscathed.
“You know we will,” His father said, kindly, “I’ll bring over some of what's left here.”
Peeta went around the back to help his father in the kitchen, and as he was doing so, he overheard Miss Ness say, “I just ran into Jaynee and Emery on my way here, their daughter is just about Peeta’s age,”.“She is.” His father nodded.
“She’s shaping out nicely, I think Peeta and her would make a nice pair, don’t you?”
“I’d like to let Peeta decide,”
“Oh well, I would never want to decide for him, I just mean he’s so sweet and say the wrong girl gets him,” Miss Ness sighed.
Peeta heard the clacking of her heels and the bell on the door signaling she had gone. Peeta entered the kitchen to meet his father only after she had left, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.
***
When it was time to go, the five of them embarked on the short walk to the Justice building. The subtle dread that had settled in Peeta’s belly for the past few weeks was now amplified to a new level as if each step he took toward the Justice Building filled him with more and more panic. He toyed anxiously with the hem of his sleeve as his father grasped his shoulder.
“Peeta, do not leave your brother’s side until you have to, then find a friend from school to stay with, understand?”
“Yes, Papa,” Peeta nodded. His father cupped Peeta’s face in his hands for a moment, then let him go.
Deric had extended a hand for Peeta to take. Peeta quickly looked around to see several other younger siblings holding their older siblings’ hands and concluded that he would not get in trouble for being a baby, so he took it.
Holding Deric’s hand was a great comfort, but also helpful so that Peeta wouldn’t get swept away in the crowd. There was a constant push forward as the peacekeepers kept a close eye on the children to make sure everything went as planned. Peeta adjusted the pace. The line was long, but it moved quickly. It hurt to get his blood drawn, but the thing that made him feel the worst was when he had to let go of Deric’s hand as he went to stand with the seventeen-year-olds, and Ryen went to stand with the fourteen-year-olds.
Peeta scanned the crowd searching for a familiar face. Most of the crowd was bigger than him, and it was hard to see. He tried standing still, going up on his tiptoes to see over the heads of the older children. In the brief moment he took to stop moving, a Peacekeeper came up behind him and prodded the back of Peeta’s head with his gun.
“Move along.”
Peeta couldn’t see his face from under the mask, but he did not wait for him to say anymore and took off quickly.
“Peeta!” Someone wrapped their arms tightly around his middle. He was relieved to see Delly Cartwright. “I was looking for you before, but I couldn’t find you.”
While Peeta was happy to see his best friend, she wasn’t much use to him right now because the girls and boys were about to be separated, and he still hadn’t found one boy from his class.
“Delly, you have to go, we are about to go into groups,” Peeta pushed her away.
“I know, I just wanted to say good luck before we had to go,” She said, petulantly.
“I know, I know, I’ll see you first thing after, okay,”
He watched her walk away into the girls' side of the courtyard, and Peeta turned to find at least one person he knew. An older boy bumped his shoulder. Peeta looked up at him to apologize, but he just rolled his eyes and walked away. Peeta felt very lost and very small.
Eventually, he found his group of friends from school, all merchant kids. The two sectors of District Twelve tended to keep to themselves, nothing personal as far as Peeta was aware, it's just the way things are, and could they be blamed? Merchant kids are surrounded by other merchant kids. Why bother to branch out?
However, Peeta wouldn’t be opposed to it, especially now, as he reached up on tiptoe to see over the heads of the boys to look at the girls in hopes of getting a glimpse of Katniss. He found her quickly. A brunette head standing next to the blonde head of Madge, a stark contrast to Peeta’s group.
Katniss’ hair was tied in two braids on either side of her head with thin white ribbons tying the ends together. She wore a cream white blouse and a pleated skirt; she stared expressionless at the ground, scuffing the toe of her penny-loafer on the floor.
The ceremony begins promptly on time, and Peeta forces his attention to the front. The mayor steps on stage and gives the opening speech, announcing the only remaining Victor of District Twelve, Haymitch Abernathy. Every year is a variation of the same. Haymitch hobbles his way onto the stage, slurs a few deranged words into the microphone, then shuts up for the rest of the ceremony as he is no longer contractually obligated to speak.
Then it's the District Twelve escort’s turn. This is the closest Peeta has ever been to Effie Trinket. He did not like the plastic chalk-like look of her face, and now, so close, it gave him the shivers.
“Happy Hunger Games, everyone, and may the odds be ever in your favor!” Effie starts her corny speech about tradition and honor. She clearly hates being stuck with District Twelve; it's almost funny.
His stomach drops when Effie concludes her speech with, “As usual, ladies first.” Effie walks over to the bowl with the girls’ names inside. She walks with a strange robotic gait in what must be six-inch high heels and a maroon dress that looks like it's made of latex. She moves in such a strange way that Peeta imagines someone in the crowd controlling her limbs with a remote.
With a theatrical flourish, she pulls the girl tribute’s name from the bowl. Peeta chances a look at Katniss, but he cannot see her at this angle. There is no logical way her name is in the bowl enough to get picked, and he is right. Effie calls out the name of a girl from the Seam. Peeta does not know her, nor does he recognize her. She looks to be about seventeen or eighteen. Peeta still feels guilty as she walks to the stage as if somehow it was his fault.
Then the boy’s name is picked, another from the Seam. From how they look at each other when the boy shakes the girl’s hand, they know each other, maybe from school, maybe they are friends, but they aren’t anymore. They are prey.
The two new tributes are pulled quickly into the justice building and out of sight. This would be the last time Peeta ever saw that boy and girl in person ever again, and everyone knew it.
After the ceremony, Peeta found Delly as he promised; her blonde curls had begun to stick to her head from the heat, but she smiled at him with rosy cheeks and crooked teeth.
“Glad that's done with, aren’t you?” She said, standing closely to Peeta as they continued to walk, “I mean, that took ages. I feel like it was never that long until you have to stand in the sun the whole time.”
“Where do you think they go after The Reaping,” Peeta said, rubber-necking the door the tributes had left through, “The tributes, I mean.”
Delly swatted a fly away from her face, “I’m not sure, I mean, they are on the way to the Capital, right? Maybe the bathroom I’d want to pee before a big trip like that.” Delly giggled, and Peeta sighed.
“I’d be so scared,” Peeta said.
Delly made a noise of discomfort, “Yeah… well-”
She started to say something when Delly’s younger brother called her name, waving his arms around in the air.
“I got to go.” Delly turned to Peeta, “Hey, your family is going to Miss Ness’s party tonight, right?” Peeta nodded, “Well, I’ll see you there, I hope she makes meat pies, I’m starving.” Delly turned briskly and ran to meet her little brother.
***
The Mellarks walked across the square at sunset carrying several loaves of bread as a party favor. Upon opening the door to Miss Ness’s shop, she thanked his father, saying, “You shouldn’t have!” Even though she would have gossiped about their rudeness to her friends if they hadn’t brought a gift.
The party was in the back garden, and a big table was set up for the adults and older children. The younger ones were playing in the grass behind them. The non-specific chatting and laughing filled the air the second Peeta stepped outside. He looked around for Delly but she hadn’t arrived yet; they seemed to be relatively early.
Peeta did recognize Xano and Ambro, two boys a year younger than him. Ryen was made to follow him past the table, but their mother pulled on his sleeve, motioning him to join them at the adult table. Ryen made a gagging noise towards Peeta, which made him giggle and earned Ryen a smack upside the head.
Xano and Ambro were the twin sons of the butcher from Peeta’s group of friends. They were a bit high-energy and a bit reckless, but not too much where Peeta minded. They were standing by the fire pit, and when Peeta drew nearer, Ambro shouted, “We are playing chicken, whoever keeps their hand near the fire longest without hollering wins!”
So Peeta joined, and he lost, though he wasn’t ashamed of being chicken; he liked his fingers intact the way they were. Somehow, the game turned into fencing with sticks they found in the yard and lit the ends on fire like torches.
After a while of this, Miss Ness crossed the garden to them, “Oh, you three, such boys,” She laughed, she was holding hands with a young girl, “Peeta, you know Via.”
Via was Jaynee and Emery’s daughter, the girl she had mentioned to his father in the bakery this morning. Peeta’s stomach sank at the thought. Via was a year younger than Peeta and his interactions with her were very short and sparse. Peeta nodded his head in response.
“I thought it would be nice if you two talked to each other. How about that?” Miss Ness smiled, guiding Via in Peeta’s direction.
The only girl Peeta had ever spent time with was Delly, and even talking to Delly was different than talking to boys or his brothers. But it seemed that he had no real choice as Miss Ness, Ambro, and Xano had all walked away, leaving just Peeta and Via alone.
“Do you wanna play keep-away?” Peeta pointed to the leather ball, which was abandoned a few feet away.
“No thanks.” Via sat down in a chair by the fire pit and rested her head in her hand.
Peeta sighed and sat down next to her, “What do you want to play?”
“Nothing.”
Peeta drummed his hands on his thighs. “Do you like to draw?” He asked.
“Not really,” She responded, “I do like to sing. I’m really good, actually.”
Peeta remembered hearing Via sing The Valley Song once, and he remembered it sounding like a dying pig, but he didn’t say anything. Nobody can sing The Valley Song as well as Katniss anyway.
“Oh yeah, I remember, you were good,” Peeta said, not making eye contact.
“Yeah, my Pa says I have an aptitude for singing.”
“What's an aptitude?” Peeta asked.
“It's like… talent, I think.” Via smoothed her dress out on her lap, “My Pa just bought this dress for me. Isn’t it nice?”
“Yeah, really pretty.”
“He says it brings out my natural beauty, do you think so?”
Peeta had no idea what that meant. “Uh, I guess?”
The conversation was utterly boring and going nowhere. The fire pit was making his throat scratchy and his eyes itch. Across from the pair was Xano and Ambro wrestling each other to the ground in a large patch of mud, the two boys growing filthier as they rolled around.
He also saw that the Cartwrights must have arrived at the party, as Delly and her brother seemed to be spectators at this match. Peeta became even more antsy in his pointless conversation with Via; he thought of some excuse to join his friends.
“Have you ever wrestled?” Peeta asked Via.
Via looked disgusted, “No…”
“C’mon, let's go,” Peeta grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the twins.
“Peeta no!” Via protested, “I can’t get my dress dirty.”
“No, it's fine, I promise.” He dragged her until they were standing next to the mud pile, “It's fun, I’ll teach you.”
“Unlike you, I can afford nice clothes!” Via spat.
Peeta felt himself turn red. Without thinking, he pushed Via’s shoulders and watched her fall backward directly into the mud.
There was a moment where Peeta and Via stared at each other, then Via screamed an awful, high-pitched, irritating scream.
Via’s parents rushed over, and her father picked her up by the armpits out of the mud. Via looked down at the state of her dress, the baby pink cupcake skirt with lace trim now covered in mud, and wailed into her father's arms.
“What happened?” Via’s father asked.
Via whipped around and pointed her finger at him, “Peeta pushed me!”
“Peeta Mellark, why on Earth would you do that?” Peeta’s mother had yanked him by the collar of his shirt and turned him to face her.
“I didn’t think she’d actually fall over,” Peeta said, but it was too late. The wrath of his mother was upon him.
“Apologize to Via then home.” She said sternly.
“But-”
“You heard me, straight home!”
Peeta took a deep breath, and he turned around to apologize to Via, but she only cried harder, claiming that her dress was ruined. Peeta left the party with a horrible twisting in his stomach. He couldn’t tell if he felt more nervous this morning for the reaping or right now. Knowing what his mother was going to do when she got home that night. All Peeta could do was wait.
When she did come home, Peeta heard the front door slam and her footsteps on the stairs until she was standing at his doorway.
Peeta waited to cry until she had gone. He sat up in his bed on his very first reaping with a bruise on his face and a very heavy heart that was not fixed even when his father came in after the rest of the house was asleep to hold him.
“Mama doesn’t mean it,” His father had said as Peeta buried his face in his father’s shoulder. “She just wants what's best for you.”
Peeta’s stomach hurt.
Peeta’s father had sat with him until he was too tired to cry anymore and fell asleep. When he woke in the morning, his eyes were puffy from crying, and he was alone.