*Katniss' POV*
I stumble blindly through a maze of corridors, my trainers thudding against the floor; knowing that he has to be here somewhere. But I am practically unable to find him anywhere in these goddamned school corridors.
'Gale!' I yell, my chapped lips forming his name, my gasps becoming painful by the minute and irregular, stabbing my chest repeatedly. 'Gale!! Where are you...Gaahh!!'
Somebody gets in my way, one that my eyes cannot seem to distinguish in those few seconds, and I stumble and fall to the floor, my head throbbing, and my mouth forming expletive curses that I've only heard, never used. My laces have come undone, and I bend to tie them up, not wanting to apologize to whoever had come in my way. It was their fault anyway. I see someone's shoes near my fallen satchel with the corner of my eyes, and hazard a guess- it's a boy. But no one stays back here, after school, except for those who have been penalized. And Gale hadn't submitted his homework for as long as he can remember, because the minute he gets home, he has to start helping his mother. I've offered to do his homework provided he tells me what to write, but he'd rather be punished, he says, for failing to do something.
I wearily stuff my satchel with the fallen books, and stand up, my feet hurting with the effort. He gives me a hand, but I refuse to take it. Firstly, you collide with me when I am stuck doing such an important task, and then you act all polite? 'Better watch where you're going' I mutter, leaning my back against the wall, willing my breaths to calm down. That is when I see his face. Just as red from exertion as mine is. And his blue eyes, sorry and downcast.
It's Peeta Mellark.
'Are you alright?' he asks, rubbing his sweaty palms against his pants. I'm glad now that I didn't take his hand. 'Yeah, well, what do you expect? Come running in my way like that-'
'I'm sorry' he says, ending my rebuke abruptly. His shirt is wet, and I wonder whether he's been learning a sport. Or playing for the school, someplace. His knuckles are scarred, and knobbly, and the veins stick out in his arms; and I imagine it must hurt, because he's holding a bag in a way that plainly shows he's paining. 'I'll be on my way, then' he says, briskly walking away, inspite of the slight limp in his gait. I watch him leave, feeling awkward, and stupid. It wasn't his fault as much as it was mine. 'Hey, wait up!' I yell, as he's about to turn into a landing. He hears me call, and looks back; his head with the ruffled mop of blonde hair, peeking out.
'I'm sorry too, err..Peeta' I say apologetically, my lips unable to say his name at first, and then rapidly tumbling over the two syllables.
'That's quite alright..see you around, Katniss' he says, enthused because his eyes now look happy.
'Oh, and have you..have you seen Gale anywhere around? I have an important message to give him!' I ask, my eagerness bubbling over. Perhaps Peeta has seen him somewhere and might know, ending my search?
Is it my imagination, or do I see his face fall, and the glimmer in his eyes fade away? 'I really don't know, Katniss..but I did hear several students were being held back in Room B, near the Wrestling Class..Perhaps Gale is there' he says.
I nod my thanks, and start to leave, just as he walks away. I was right in thinking he's practising a sport; Peeta is a wrestler, unsurprisingly- his strength is quite evident by his strong arms, and the well-built biceps, that strain against the sleeves of his shirt. Goodness, but why am I thinking about him? I shake my head, straightening the loops and unraveling my knotted thoughts. It's tough enough anyway, trying hard to act haughty, when I just want to break down and cry- but I won't let my facade crumble. I have a family to take care of, and a friend who needs to be at home right now.
