The Hunger Games - I'm Still Burning

Chapter 8

I hear the children before I see them. The breeze picks up their enthusiastic little chatter, carrying the sound to our ears, resembling the tinkering of wind chimes. They squeal as we round the corner, rushing over in a flurry of excitement. A couple of them stop to hug my legs but it's clear that the majority of them only have eyes for Peeta.

They clutter around him, each one shouting louder than the next, desperate to have his attention. He stumbles along, trying to listen to what they're saying but the task of walking with the heavy box and not stepping on any of the children, is proving to be quite difficult for him. I take the box from his arms without looking at him. The children instantly attach themselves to his hands.

I gingerly make my way through them all, praying that I won't trip and fall on any of them myself. The parents waiting at the doors nod politely at me, they don't speak. I don't think they know what to say to me. Not a lot of people do. I put the box on to the floor so that I can fish the keys out of my coat pocket.

"We'll just be another five minutes," Peeta explains to them all as I drag the box inside. I dump it on one of the tables that have been set up and head straight for the back room.

I swap my coat for an apron and find myself automatically reaching for Peeta's apron too.

"Are you going to talk to me about what happened on the way here?"

I turn and see that he's stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

"Nope, not right now," I say, chucking the apron over his head as I brush by him.

"Katniss-" he grabs my arm but his sentence falls short. He's looking into the room behind me, a goofy smile spreading out across his face. I worry for a minute that this might be a sadistic version of one of his flashbacks, until he lifts a hand and points.

When I turn and follow his gaze, I feel myself smile too. It seems as though we have a stowaway. A little girl, she can't be more than two, skipping and twirling in between the tables. She's singing quietly to herself, not appearing bothered at all by the fact that she's in the room on her own. She must have snuck in after us. Her caramel coloured hair is tied neatly in two curly pony tails, one with a green ribbon, the other with blue. I think she might be the cutest thing I've ever seen.

The pinafore she has on swishes as she attempts a more intricate dance move, jumping and throwing her leg out to the side. She doesn't quite make it though, her feet tangle together in the air some how and she falls awkwardly on to the floor with a thud. I'm by her side before I even have a chance to think about what I'm doing.

"Are you okay, Sweetie?" I ask, crouching down and helping her to stand back up.

Her chubby hand clutches onto mine as she gives a slight shake of her head. Her big blue eyes are watery and letting out silent tears.

"Can I have a look?" I ask softly.

She sniffs and holds out her left leg, where a red mark is blossoming on the side of her knee.

"Shall we go and put a cold cloth on it to make it better?" I suggest.

She nods and I push myself back up on to my feet again. To my surprise, she holds her arms out to me, gesturing that she wants to be picked up. I look to Peeta uncertainly but he's watching us with a dreamy, far away look in his eye, no use to anyone.

"Okay," I swoop her up and her body straight away moulds into mine. Her legs slot around my hips, arms clamp around my neck. She buries her face in my hair. The warmth that it brings is unexpected and not at all unpleasant.