A Love that Transforms a Nation

The Boy with the Bread

Unfortunately for me, bread keeps popping up on my doorstep for several weeks. Every day it is a different type, from rye bread to sweet bread to cornbread. Except for Sundays, my hunting days. On those days it's always cheese bread, which happens to be my favorite. I wonder if he knows that? Maybe I mentioned it one day in the bakery when we were making a trade?

Focus, Katniss.

Needless to say, the Everdeen household has not experienced a shortage of bread for several weeks now. Despite the convenience of having fresh bread delivered to my doorstep each day, I am really having a hard time keeping up with this boy. I can't hunt every single day, so I have to find some way to either give him enough meat for the week or save enough meat to distribute to the Mellark residence once each day. I really just want this to be over. Maybe I should just talk to him? For some reason, I feel like that would be crossing some unforeseen barrier between us, and I am not entirely sure I am up for that at this point.

Well, I wasn't up for it.

But that was before I came home to two bundles of bread on my doorstep. What am I supposed to do with this? One loaf was enough. Now, he is just being excessive. How can he even afford this? I wonder if his mother has found out yet. Regardless, this has to stop. At that moment, I resolve to confront him at school the following day.

On the day of the confrontation, I wake up with immediate thoughts revolving around bread. This has gotten way out of hand. Peeta needs to know that I can't keep up with his deliveries. I just don't have enough time to hunt, and being even more indebted to Peeta Mellark is simply not an option for me. Period.

I throw on my usual green shirt and a pair of worn, brown pants. My fingers deftly weave my hair into my typical side-braid, a style chosen not for its appearance but rather its practicality. Breakfast consists of a few of the berries and roots I gathered in the woods and a small cup of goat's milk from Lady. After I grab my school bag, I head out the door with Prim following at my side. I always walk with her to and from school, but today I am not entirely present during our walk; I'm distracted with a feeling of anxiety and thoughts of bread. So. Much. Bread. What am I going to say to Peeta? How can I convey my feelings to him on this matter?

I decide to wing it. Planning has never really been my thing.

Prim's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "I noticed that we got two rolls of bread yesterday. What is it with all this bread, Katniss?" Prim looks at me with a questioning expression.

I don't know, Prim. Maybe you could tell me?

"No idea. It's weird, isn't it?" I say without making eye contact.

"Yeah. Really weird, but I'm not complaining." I watch as Prim grins and bounces beside me, and I realize with a twinge of guilt that today could be the end of the whole baked goods arrangement. I do enjoy the bread, and I love how happy it makes Prim, but I can't keep paying him back for all of it. I can't just accept it either. He needs to know that.

We finally arrive at the school building, and I drop Prim off in her class with a kiss before heading straight to mine. As I walk inside, I can't help but notice Peeta staring at me as I make my way to my desk. This is so ridiculous. Is he trying to rub it in? I plop down into my chair, cross my arms, and scowl hoping that he will catch on. Though, I never get a chance to find out because the teacher chooses to walk in and begin class at that moment.

The day drags on and on as the teacher lectures on Panem's history, the industry of the districts, the greatness of the Capitol, and more topics which have all been taught repeatedly throughout my years in school. It's pretty pointless if you ask me. During class, I decide to catch up with Peeta as soon as school is let out.

This thing ends today.

The bell rings, and I rush out the door to wait for Peeta. My classmates pass me one by one, and then I spot him as he swings his book bag onto his shoulder. I make eye contact with him for a brief moment as I wait for him to approach. I notice a sudden redness overtake his face, he breaks the connection, and he walks right past me.

Suddenly, anger takes over. I have had enough of this game. I hate games. I run up behind him, grab his shoulder, and pin him against the wall.

"What the hell, Mellark! What's your deal? Huh?" I shout in his face. People are starting to look, but I don't care. This whole thing is simply ridiculous.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..." He is avoiding my glare.

"The bread, Mellark! What is the deal with the bread?!" I can tell that he is extremely uncomfortable. Good. He should be.

"Katniss..." He finally looks at me, and I can't help but relax a little at the genuine care etched into his blue eyes. "Katniss, I was just trying to help. I promise." He's not lying. His eyes say it all. He was only being nice.

I sigh and back away from him. The people who were watching our little exchange begin to disperse.

"I don't need anyone's help. I've survived this long, haven't I?" I say, looking away.

Only because he gave you bread, a voice in my head reminds me.

I look up only because I felt a hand, his hand, on my shoulder. I meet his gaze once again.

"Katniss, sometimes it's not just about surviving. It's okay to accept help. It's okay to receive someone's gift." I watch as the corner of his mouth curves into a friendly smile. "Thank you for all the meat, though. I've had quite the time trying to explain it to my family."

"I just-I can't accept the bread, Peeta. You've already done enough for me. I can never repay you."

"What are you talking about, Katniss?" He looks thoroughly confused. I sigh.

"That day with the bread. Behind the bakery." I refuse to look away. He needs to know.

"Oh." Peeta begins to shift nervously. "That-Katniss, that was... nothing. It was just the right thing to do, you know?" he responds quietly.

"'The right thing to do'? Peeta, you saved my life that day. I-I guess I should've thanked you, but I didn't know how." Where is all this coming from? I have never acknowledged that day to anyone. Especially not to Peeta.

"It's okay, Katniss. I don't need a 'thank you,' and as much as I appreciate it, I don't even need your meat. I just wanted to help is all, and you don't have to pay me for it. If you keep doing that, then it's not a gift, is it?"

I am trying to find a way out of this mess. I don't understand. All I want to do is cry, and I'm not even sure why. We have barely spoken to each other over the years, but now, after a few minutes of conversation, I want to run away and cry. I don't cry, and that's part of the reason why this is so strange. I pull myself together and ask the question that has been eating at me ever since that day with the bread so long ago.

"Why? I don't understand. People don't just give people food like that. Not in District 12, anyways. There has to be some reason... Unless, of course, you give bread to every household in the Seam. In that case, please, continue doing the 'right thing.'" At these words, I pull away and glare at him, hoping to force a response from him. I need to know what all this is about. I'm tired of trying to figure it out alone.

He blushes and looks a way for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. Then, he sighs and looks me straight in the eye. "Do you really want to know, Katniss?"

I nod.

"Okay, well I-I guess... It's hard to explain... ummm... How about you meet me in the Meadow tomorrow night?"

That isn't the response I was expecting. I raise my eyebrows in confusion. Just tell me now, I think impatiently, shifting my weight so he can tell that I am waiting for a proper answer.

"It's-I-It's a long story and I know Prim is probably waiting for you."

He has a point. I don't really have much of an option. I sigh impatiently.

"Fine. Tomorrow, in the Meadow at six. Don't be late." At that, I turn on my heels and march off to find Prim. Even so, thoughts of bread continue to whirl through my mind. I thought this conversation would clear things up; instead, I feel more confused than ever.

Leave it to the boy with the bread.