Teenage Memories.

The One with the Katpee.

Fuck school, and fuck whoever invented alarms. It was four in the morning; the sun hadn't even risen yet, but he had to get up. Honestly, Marvel thought education was overrated.

"Marvel!" his grandmother called from the kitchen. "Breakfast is ready!"

He sighed heavily before getting out of bed. He loved his grandmother, but waking up at four in the morning always put him in a bad mood for the first twenty minutes of the day. Still, he did it for a good reason: she was really old and had difficulty walking, so he took care of the household chores before heading to school. He figured he could sleep better there anyway. Who needed studying?

Marvel walked out of his room, still in his pajamas, and headed to the kitchen, where a steaming cup of coffee and a sandwich awaited him. His grandmother had put on some soft bossa nova music, which blended with the sound of the rain tapping on the roof. It felt like it was going to be a relaxed day.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked. "No nightmares?"

"Yep," he replied. "I didn't even notice the rain."

"You sleep like a rock, baby," she laughed. "Last night's thunder must've woken the dead!"

Marvel had lived with his grandmother since he was six years old, after his mother had left to work abroad. His father had disappeared when he turned two, off to "buy cigarettes," as the saying went. His mother sent enough money to ensure his grandmother could raise him without problems, and they also had his late grandfather's pension. They had everything they needed, but there was never any surplus.

After finishing breakfast, Marvel got ready to clean the house. It was Friday, so that meant a full clean-up, starting with the bathroom, then the floors, the furniture, and finally the windows. He tried to keep the place as clean as possible since too much dust or mold could affect his grandmother's health. At first, she had resisted, holding onto old-fashioned ideas, but when her body made it clear she couldn't handle the physical effort anymore, she had no choice but to let him take over.

It took Marvel about two hours to finish the chores. By the time the clock struck six, it was time for a shower to wash off the sweat and the smell of cleaning products. He enjoyed showering with scalding hot water, even if it left his skin red as a tomato.

After getting dressed, he packed his things for school while his grandmother insisted he should spray on some perfume before leaving. According to her, it helped attract the ladies. What she didn't know was that Marvel didn't have anyone interested in him, so he didn't even bother trying.

Usually, Cato picked him up around six thirty, but last night, Peeta had asked to talk to him, so plans had to change. Marvel said goodbye to his grandmother and rushed out to Peeta's car, running in the pouring rain. His sweatshirt was soaked, and he could almost hear his grandmother screaming that he was going to catch a cold because of it.

"Good morning, starshine," Marvel greeted cheerfully. "The earth says hello!"

Peeta laughed and turned on some music for the drive. For someone who had said he needed to talk, Peeta wasn't saying much. But that was typical for him. Marvel almost always had to pressure him into sharing his secrets.

"Peeta, my beloved," Marvel said, trying to get his attention. "Tell me what happened that made you think calling me in the middle of the night was a good idea."

"I think it's time to tell everyone."

"Context, Peeta, I need context," Marvel complained, not having a clue what he was talking about. "More details, lover boy."

"Katniss and I are going to announce our relationship."

Marvel choked on his own saliva. Peeta pulled the car over to the side of the road and handed him some water. It had caught him off guard, but he was beyond happy—he couldn't stand being the only person in the group who knew about their relationship any longer.