Hunger Games 1. Prologue

**A/N: **I don't claim ownership of any characters or ideas created by Suzanne Collins in The Hunger Games trilogies, nor do I claim to be responsible for the original plot points, any original dialogue or ideas taken from The Hunger Games and the movie Stick It! I had this craving for a story about Katniss in the world of gymnastics and Peeta as a hockey player, and I couldn't help but try to come up with an original story about their relationship unfolding in this scenario. I want to specifically add that **Melting The Ice by tacosandflowers** first made me fall in love with the idea of Peeta as a hockey player. It's lovely, and I recommend you read that fic as it updates! Please enjoy and review, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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><p>If there was one thing Katniss was sure of, it was the forest. It always sang to her in the summertime, especially on hot mornings like this one when the sky was clear and blue. A forest teeming with the sound of wildlife meant total privacy, and she was glad. Her plans for the day required a little isolation — and what better place to find it than on an abandoned piece of land in the middle of the woods?<p>

Katniss ducked under a chain-link fence that was covered with weeds and twisted to reach into her backpack. She shoved her hand inside it without taking her eyes off the ground, even though her position made her pace a little awkward, and ran through her mental checklist again. Extra clothes. Towel. Waterproof watch. Reusable water bottle. Car keys — nowhere to be found. Katniss sighed and slowed her pace. She could already hear engines running, as well as two eager voices shouting for her to hurry up, but she knelt and dug around in the backpack's other pockets.

"Of course," Katniss huffed, pulling her keys out of a tiny pocket on the side of the bag. Prim always put them in a secure spot after borrowing the family car. Little Prim, who wasn't so little anymore since she was in high school, who still made sure to inspect each tire before getting into the car and buckling her seatbelt. Katniss hated letting her drive the car — she wanted to tape a warning sign on the bumper so people would drove more cautiously when Prim was on the road. Not that anyone would ever dream of hurting the youngest Everdeen in the first place.

The sound of revving engines pricked at Katniss' ears and pulled her into a standing position, and she continued up the hill, following the freshly printed tread marks on the ground beneath her feet.

"I'm almost up, calm down!"

Two all-terrain vehicles were waiting for her up in The Meadow. It wasn't an actual meadow so much as a sad pile of dirt and pine needles, but Thom thought the name was funny and so it stuck. At least, it made for a good story when his parents asked where he was taking their four-wheeler on the weekends. Katniss made her way over to Gale's four-wheeler, which was the cleaner of the two, and slid in front of him onto the seat. She pulled his spare helmet over her head and settled in.

"You ready, Catnip?" He asked, bracing the pedals with his large feet and tightening his gloves. She nodded, pulling the straps of her backpack down and gripping the front of her seat. "You two ready?" Thom had Bristel on the seat behind him, already wearing her helmet and holding on to his waist. The forest went silent as rocks started shifting underneath Gale's tires and the four-wheelers took off crashing through the trees.

The rules of physics are simple: stay balanced and don't let your center of gravity tip too far, or else you'll go flying through the air and end up crashing into the ground. Gale and Thom have rules, too: first one to slow their vehicle down loses. The first person to get forcefully ejected from their vehicle also loses, but in a different way. Gale and Thom were more than willing to test their luck, especially on a warm summer day like this one when a pair of girls was watching their every move.

Katniss could hear Bristel shrieking ahead of them, yelling for Thom to slow down. Thom was obviously a more experienced four-wheeler than Gale, and he was clearly swerving through trees on purpose. Katniss grinned, pushing up in her seat so she could see the hills ahead. Gale was taking them closer and closer to the edge of the woods, where the road cut momentarily through the trees in a way that made their game particularly dangerous. For one thing, it was easy to spot a couple of kids trespassing on private land from the nearby overpass. For another, they could just as easily crash into the middle of the road and be killed.

"Don't you think you're pushing it a little close?" Katniss yelled in Gale's ear. His hair tickled the edge of her nose. "We should at least turn around."

"Can't do it, Catnip, I bet money on this! We're already behind!" He called back, pushing the throttle forward. Thom and Bristel were up ahead, both yelling something unintelligible. Gale drove up and over one final rocky hill and spit out a loud curse. An empty, beat-up old pickup truck sat just yards from the road, right at the edge of the tree line. Someone was hunting, and they were right in Gale's path.

Thom and Bristel had apparently slowed down in time to veer off to the side of the truck, but Gale was speeding up. He tried to force the vehicle into a hard left turn, but his wheel snagged on an exposed tree root. Katniss could feel the wheels of the vehicle lifting off the ground, and her survival instincts kicked in. She tucked her limbs and head toward her body and snapped her eyes shut as the ground rushed up to meet her. Gale's all-terrain vehicle crashed into the side of the truck with a thunderous, cannon-like boom and continued to ring.

Katniss slowly realized those were her ears that were ringing. She rolled onto her side and groaned as sirens began to wail in the distance. Small rocks were pressing painfully into the side of her face, and the underside of her hands were severely scraped, but she pushed up off the ground anyway and broke into a run. Bristel and Thom were nowhere to be seen and Gale was a good three hundred yards ahead of her already. The truck's alarm was going off and the sirens, not nearly so distant as before, joined it to create more noise. Katniss slowed her run down to a jog as blue and red lights colored the leaves on the trees around her and readjusted the backpack on her shoulders. This wasn't the song she'd had in mind when she'd come into the woods.

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><p>"All together, she's accumulated about fifteen grand in property damages, not counting the trespassing charge."<p>

"Thank you, bailiff." The court judge looked to be a younger man, maybe in his mid-forties. He parted his hair in a severe line and sat with unbelievable stillness as he looked down at Katniss in her seat. She sighed and kept her eyes on the ceiling, ignoring him and her mother behind her. "Katniss, I don't think anyone wants to see you sent off to jail for something like this. You're clearly a bright girl, and close to graduation. Lucky for you, the odds are in your favor." Katniss let her eyes drift down, focusing on the judge's ridiculous middle part. Was she really getting off with a warning? "The court is willing to grant you an alternative — you may volunteer to spend the next several weeks at an athletic training and wellness facility. Are you familiar with Haymitch Abernathy's Gymnastics Academy?"

Katniss' eyes shot to his. "You call that lucky? Are you kidding me?" she cried sharply.

Her judge sat back in his chair and shrugged calmly. "It's that, or time in a correctional facility, which will be marked permanently on your record. It's your choice, Miss Everdeen."

Katniss let her eyes go steely and threw several mental daggers at him. She couldn't afford to go to jail, not when her university scholarship required a clean record. They both knew she had no real choice in the matter. Judge Crane smacked his gavel against his block.

"Fifteen weeks at AGA it is. Thank you, Miss Everdeen. Court dismissed."

The ride home was short and quiet. Katniss leaned her forehead against the car window and absentmindedly stroked the scratches on her palms. A full week had passed, but the physical evidence of her criminal activity still lingered all over her. She could feel Prim's eyes watching her nervously and shifted, even though it made the seatbelt dig into her neck.

"It's a long drive to Houston," Mrs. Everdeen said suddenly. They were parked in the driveway and her mother lingered in the driver's seat, looking at Katniss through the rear view mirror. She sounded unsure, as if she was asking a question. Katniss hadn't offered more than a handful of words to her mother since the police escorted her home last weekend, so she probably was. Her mother always had such appropriate timing. She and Gale and Thom and Bristel had been so careless, and she deserved to be screamed at now, not looked after. Not worried about. Certainly not pitied.

"I'll be fine," she replied roughly, yanking the car door open and rushing inside before Prim could ask her what was wrong. Heaven help her if they heard the quaking in her voice; it certainly wouldn't help anyone. She went inside to pack her things and sat on her bed after she finished, staring at the door.

"Come on in, I know you're waiting in the hall," Katniss called with an empty chuckle. Prim shuffled into the room with a sheepish grin on her face and an anxious look in her eyes. "Hey, come here," she said, reaching for Prim's hand and tugging her closer. "Remember what I said outside in the car? You don't have to worry about me."

"I know." Katniss gathered her into a loose hug and ran her fingers through Prim's wispy blonde hair. "I'm gonna miss you."

"And I'll miss you just as much," Katniss replied before pulling away. The longer she stalled, the harder it would be to leave. "But it's only a couple of weeks."

"Fifteen," Prim replied softly. "What are you going to do about school?" Katniss hadn't thought that far ahead yet. The University of Texas at Dallas wasn't a far drive from home, but she would still be missing class for a few weeks because of her court-mandated vacation time.

"I'll figure something out. C'mon. Mom wants me out of the house and on the road." Katniss picked up her duffel bag and her backpack and slung them both over her shoulder, refusing Prim's offer to help. Her own personal cab to Hell had arrived, and Gale and Thom were parked right behind it.

"We seriously owe you one, Katniss," Thom apologized as he stepped out of the car.

"Yeah, well I'll be sure to call you up to return the favor someday," Katniss grunted, tossing her bags into the trunk of the taxi cab. "Neither of you would have said anything if it'd been you."

"We still owe you," Gale said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He towered over her. "Find some way to keep in touch, okay? We'll try to spring you free as soon as we can." Katniss looked up at him with a small grin and tried to swallow her guilt. She'd told Gale and Thom that she was being sent to a correctional facility in Houston, because the alternative was ridiculously embarrassing. Half of her was still in denial over the whole issue.

"I'll hold you to that."

Katniss stared out the cab window and watched her home disappear. For fifteen weeks, she would be at the mercy of Haymitch Abernathy — assuming she lasted the entire time. It was more likely that the people there would rip her to pieces the minute she arrived. Katniss Everdeen wasn't exactly a popular name in the world of competitive gymnastics.

Yet, three years ago, Katniss had been one of them — a leotard-wearing, beam-balancing, chalk-clapping gymnast. And she'd been good. Good enough to earn a spot on the American Women's team at the Capitol Championships, the highest level of competition in gymnastics besides the Olympics. Three years ago, Katniss might have been proud to attend AGA and meet the famous Haymitch Abernathy, but a lot of things change when you walk out on your team during a national championship. A lot of things change afterwards, too.

Katniss sighed and dug her shoe into the upholstery of the cab floor. She never wanted to see the bright-lit world of gymnastics again, and now she was being forced back into it. One wrong move and she wouldn't just be hitting the ground, she'd be hitting a cot in state prison. No pressure.

The thought of meeting Haymitch Abernathy in the flesh was just as exciting. Once a famous and skilled gymnast himself, Abernathy had retired. Haymitch Abernathy's Gymnastics Academy trained a few of the best gymnasts the United States of America had ever seen, but that was before he took a dive off the deep end. A couple of girls on his team got injured and he took to training safe routines and drinking on the weekends. Nobody knew what his problem was, but he was obviously still good at business, because his gym kept growing and growing even after he lost his popularity. He brought in physical therapists to attend to his clients and bought some regular gymnasium equipment for his team to use. Eventually regular clients came in too, and he took their money with a smile plastered firmly to his once-handsome face.

Katniss thought about sleeping the rest of her ride away, but she wanted to draw out her remaining freedom for as long as she could. Two-thirds of her drive had already passed and it felt like nothing. Bribing the driver to turn around hadn't worked, either. Instead, she focused on counting mile markers and street lamps, wishing for a miracle to take her back home where she belonged.

The Abernathy Gymnastics Academy was sleeker than she was expecting it to look — the parking lot was bigger than the courtroom she'd been sentenced in. There were four handicapped parking spots at the door, and Katniss wondered who would possibly be using those as she hoisted her bags out of the trunk. Two wheelchair ramps flanked the front porch of the gym, and the doors automatically slid open as she stepped in front of the building. An overly cheerful woman checked her in, and Katniss felt a nervous wave roll through her stomach. Sure, the receptionist was nice, but she was like the lamp on the end of an anglerfish, and Katniss was its prey.

The gym's receptionist pointed her through another set of glass doors and turned back to her computer, clicking noisily at her keyboard. Katniss wrinkled her nose in distaste and pulled up her bags, looking backward at the door. If she knew her surroundings, she could just take off running. She was fast. She could get a couple of miles away before they caught up to her. Katniss noticed the receptionist eyeing her again, so she reluctantly stepped forward. Of course, she didn't make it more than five feet into the gym before a gravelly voice stopped her.

"Pleasure to finally meet you, sweetheart."


	2. The Gloves Come Off

**A/N:** Here's chapter two! Short little notes from me this time; I don't have full control over myself, but assume this is the approximate length chapters will be from now on! Also, while this story is built from major themes in Stick It!, you're gonna find me diverging from a lot of plotlines. I think it's better that way, keeps you guessing! Finally, I'm headed back to school next week so after the 20th, updates will be coming slower. Thank you again for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

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><p>"Pleasure to finally meet you, sweetheart."<p>

Katniss pursed her lips and turned to face her new gymnastics coach. Haymitch Abernathy was leaning up against the wall behind her, looking her over. He seemed unimpressed. Katniss frowned and lifted her chin to meet his stare head on.

Haymitch's eyes were a cold, pale gray that clashed with his haphazardly groomed hair and dark, furrowed eyebrows. They made his open scrutiny of her even more jarring. Katniss was close enough to see a shadow of scratchy, uneven stubble was staking claim on his jaw. That didn't seem to fit him. She'd been expecting him to wear his hair slicked back the way he used to wear it for the big competitions. He wasn't dressed the way he used to, either — Haymitch wore a red-and-white warm up suit that bore the gym's logo on its front and back, his chest decorated with colored patches from sponsors. She noticed they weren't any companies she'd ever heard of — she figured they were local businesses. He couldn't find himself some decent name brands if he tried.

Undeniably, the strangest thing about Haymitch wasn't his invasive behavior — it was his fashion sense. His feet were bare except for a pair of chalky gray socks.

"First rule you're gonna learn in my gym, sweetheart —" he began, pushing off the wall, "no shoes, unless you have my special permission to wear them." Katniss snorted. He was obviously acting this way to startle her. She turned away to look at the other people in the gym and immediately saw he was, surprisingly, telling her the truth. None of the gymnasts or staff members were wearing shoes. Both of her eyebrows shot up in amused surprise, and she threw Haymitch a concerned look.

"Do you call everyone here sweetheart?"

"Not everybody," he replied, shaking his head. "Only the ones I find especially charming. Drop your bags. Let's go for a little walk, shall we?"

He took off in a slow circle around the first floor, giving her a chance to take in the entire gym. Several gymnasts were spread throughout this side of the building — some working on perfecting gainers for their bar routines, others dismounting off the edge of the vaults into a red foam pit. The gym itself was huge, spanning two floors and branching away from the middle on both sides to make room for the non-gymnast training area and the physical therapy center.

The walls were, without question, the gym's most ostentatious feature. Nearly everything was red or white. The open gym ceiling stretched two stories high, and the right and left walls were outfitted with old championship banners and logos boasting the gym's name. The other two — the walls directly in front of and behind Katniss — were made entirely of glass. One allowed for a full view of the back lot, which housed an outdoor recreational area and the gymnasts' dormitories, and the other looked into the physical therapy center, which was located in the heart of the building.

The handicapped parking spots made sense to Katniss now— it was nice that people with physical disabilities could receive treatment here without doing a lot of walking around. The ceilings were shorter in that part of the building, which meant the second floor office windows looked out to an impressive view of the gym below — that is, if goofy routines being performed by uptight men and women were something worth looking at.

"Listen up!" Haymitch shouted, drowning out every other noise in the gym. "I'd like you all to meet someone. This," he continued, gesturing grandly in Katniss' direction, "is Miss Katniss Everdeen, and she'll be — did I say you could stop working?" He turned to look at the uneven bars. A gymnast with short hair and brown eyes hung from the top bar, looking daggers at Katniss. Instead of pulling herself up onto the bar with a kip, she dropped to the floor with a thud and violently freed her wrist grips from her hands.

"What is she doing here?" she sneered, raking her eyes over Katniss with obvious contempt. Katniss met her stare with equal enthusiasm.

"Oh, joy," Haymitch chimed in. "I knew you'd be good at making friends."

Johanna Mason was only a year older than Katniss, but she stood at least four inches taller, even barefoot. Her brown hair was only just long enough to tie up in a ponytail, and it was currently shiny with sweat. Katniss remembered it being longer at the Capitol Championships, but that was three years ago. She never dreamed she would have to see Johanna again, much less train with her.

"Listen, ladies," Haymitch said, looking at Johanna pointedly. "Katniss hasn't trained for a while, so let's be sure to refrain from making any comments that have to do with her being out of shape or unfit for practice…or her clothes," he continued, looking up and down at Katniss' worn sweatshirt and jeans.

"Speaking of fashion sense, which you obviously know so much about," Katniss interrupted, "I just remembered: I don't have my leotards with me. Must have forgotten them at home," she shrugged apologetically.

"That's a damn shame," Haymitch agreed. He shook his head and grinned at her, which made her uncomfortable. He wasn't acting at all the way she'd expected him to, based on what she knew of him. He straightened up and leaned in close, impatience flooding his tone. "Don't interrupt me again. Go warm up, and lose the shoes."

She went to the other side of the gym, ignoring stares from the others. Katniss kicked her sneakers off with as much force as she could and ripped her sweatshirt from her body. She scowled in the direction of a few girls who laughed and glanced over to Haymitch, who was currently sitting near the lobby. His shoeless foot was propped up against his knee, and he bounced it arrogantly as he waited for her to continue.

"You want to watch me to warm up, huh?" Katniss barked, stretching out her arms and striding over near the tumbling floor. "How about a double back instead?" Haymitch's expression grew stormy.

"Don't you dare throw a double back without training it first!"

"Watch me." Haymitch was too far away to stop her, too slow to react. Katniss backed herself up against the wall and took a running start onto the spring floor. Her knees flew up and nearly connected with her ribs as she pumped across the carpet, clouds of chalk puffing up after her every stride. She sucked in a huge breath and balled her fists as she ran, ignoring the gasps from the others. When she was halfway across, she skipped, letting her hands shoot out as she twisted to face the floor. One push sent her flying up again, and she pivoted her hips, forcing her knees to bend just as her feet pounded into the floor with a crack. She shoved her hands against the ground and felt her braid whip the back of her neck as her body lifted into the air. Her wrists bent backwards to accommodate her sloppy back handspring, and then she was completely airborne. Katniss waited until she was completely upside down to draw her head and knees to her chest, and her braid smacked her arm twice as she spun toward the ground. After just a second she came out of her tuck, but with too much speed. Her legs ended up hitting the floor after the rest of her made contact with the ground.

Katniss exhaled with a shudder and a shaky, proud laugh; she hadn't moved that fast on her own in a long time. She didn't want to admit it, but for a moment she felt like she was riding Gale's four-wheeler again. The sounds of the gym — or rather, the sudden silence in the gym — washed over her just as Haymitch entered her field of vision and yanked her off of the ground.

"You think that's funny?" He growled, unkempt hair falling over his forehead. His grip on her arm was painfully tight, and he strengthened it each time she tried to pull away. "You have a hell of a lot to learn, sweetheart." He dragged her forward, grabbing his chair with his free hand. Once he reached the wall he tossed it to the side and shoved Katniss into the seat.

"You better pay attention, because this might just be the most important lesson you learn here," Haymitch spat, jabbing his finger at her face. Katniss moved to slap his hand away and he grabbed her wrist. "This is my world. There's no law in here but my law, and you will obey my law, or your ass will be right back on Highway 45 in a police car. If I tell you to train a trick before you perform it, then you will train the trick. If I tell you to show up for practice, you better ask me when and where, because we have a little motto around here, don't we?" he shouted, turning to face the rest of the gym. "What is our team motto, ladies?"

A chorus of voices answered him immediately. "Throw the tricks guaranteed —"

"— guaranteed to stick," Haymitch finished with them. "Catchy, isn't it?" His demeanor shifted instantly. He slapped both of Katniss' knees with open palms and pushed back with a grin on his face. "Back to work, ladies. Invitational's six weeks away."

Katniss scowled and held her chin high, refusing to acknowledge the burning in her cheeks and the whispers from the girls around her as Haymitch made his exit. Unfortunately, people were staring at her from inside the physical therapy center, too. She met their gazes, watching as they ducked their heads in embarrassment — all except for one. A boy who looked like he was her age met her eyes with amusement and smiled kindly at her from his spot on a bench. Katniss turned away.

Rage was pooling in her stomach. She didn't know what was worse: having Haymitch as a coach, a team that hated her, or nowhere to run to escape them both. She could feel eyes on her still and it was too much for her to handle. She stomped back through the lobby and ignored the outraged gasp she heard from the receptionist's desk as she rushed up the stairs. When she got to the top she ran to the end of the hallway, as far away from the offices as she could manage, and sunk down against the wall, behind a potted plant.

Katniss picked the leaves off the plant and started to tear them to shreds. What would Prim be doing right now? It was late in the day, so probably homework. She thought of the way Prim always tucked her feet underneath her when she sat at the kitchen table to work on assignments; the table was tall, and Prim was short for her age. She liked to do her work in the kitchen while their mother organized the cabinets and started to prepare dinner. It was the most peaceful room in their home, and it made Katniss' heart ache. What would her family think of her actions? If Prim was here, she'd probably have Haymitch wrapped around her little finger, offering to introduce her to the team and show her around the gym.

Of course, Katniss realized with a frown, that's exactly what he'd done when she showed up. She rose off her haunches and brushed bits of leaves off of her thighs with resignation. Determined to be civil, she wandered around the second floor until she found Haymitch's office and knocked quietly on the door.

"Make it quick." Katniss gripped the knob and pushed the door open, glancing around the office. If Haymitch was surprised to see her, he didn't show it. In fact, he almost looked like he had been expecting her.

"Well?" Haymitch swiveled in his chair and stared down his nose at her. She took a seat in the chair next to the door and bit her cheek.

"I came here to apologize," she admitted. "I'm here to train, and I know we're going to have to work together if that's gonna happen."

"Not off to a good start, are we?" He countered.

Katniss narrowed her eyes and learned forward in her chair, pushing her braid across her shoulder. "Are you just going to sit there and insult me? Do you get some kind of sick kick from making people feel like they're nobody?"

Haymitch put his feet up on the desk and crossed his arms behind his head. "First rule of the AGA, Miss Everdeen: my gym —"

"Your rules. I know," Katniss finished, standing from her chair. "But I don't care. If I'm going to be here," she argued, "if my family's going to pay you to coach me, then you're going to have to treat me with respect."

"Yeah?" Haymitch asked. "Maybe if you earn it." Katniss turned to leave — she'd had enough of his attitude, and every hour she wasted in this building was another chunk of her mother's paycheck wasted. She had enough guilt weighing her shoulders down.

"Hold on a second." Katniss tensed in the doorway of his office.

"You're a little fireball, aren't you?" Haymitch mused, standing to walk around his desk. The right corner of his mouth turned up and he stepped past her, shutting the door.

"Let's talk a little business. You want to stay out of jail, I'm assuming —" he started, waiting for her to nod before continuing. Reluctantly, she did. "That's good. Makes my job easier knowing you won't attack me in my sleep. I can see that you have a little trouble accepting authority that's not your own, so I'm making you a bet. You compete in the upcoming invitational, place and use the prize money to pay off your restitution debts, and you get to leave early. Lose, and you spend the rest of your time here with a smile on your face and a spring in your step. Sound good?"

"It sounds like a pile of bullshit," Katniss snapped, folding her arms across her chest. "You're gonna make me train in the main gym and embarrass myself in front of everyone?"

"You can use the old gym until you're ready to play nice." Haymitch answered. "Don't act like you don't think it's a fair deal. Your eyes give away more than you think they do. What's your real problem? Is it that you can't think of any other objections to shout at me or that you won't admit you might be good at something if you actually put some effort in?"

Katniss stood silently, searching his eyes for malice. She found fire and determination instead. Haymitch grinned when he saw her expression change and nodded approvingly, opening his office door and ushering her out.

"And Katniss —" Haymitch called, making her pause again. "Don't come into my gym with shoes tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes and walked over to the stairs. "Assuming I last that long." Haymitch crossed his fingers and shut his door.

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><p>Her mood deflated as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She lingered on the bottom step for a moment and shoved her hands in her sweatshirt. Haymitch's receptionist looked over at her with faint disapproval before turning back to her work, and Katniss chose to stare at her instead of thinking about her troubles. The receptionist's nails were painted a terrible shade of neon pink and were half as long as her fingers themselves. She wondered if they were real.<p>

"Do you need something, dear?" She asked suddenly.

"Um, yes," Katniss replied, stalling for time. Her eyes swept around the lobby quickly, looking for escape. She spotted a rack of flashy leotards near her elbow and quickly grabbed the first one she saw in her size. "I need a new leotard."

"Well, then I suppose I better help you with that," she sniffed. "Come here, dear." Katniss crossed the room and handed her the leotard. "Oh, I just love this color!" The woman sang. Katniss wrinkled her nose; she'd thought the garment was completely black, but the entire lower half was decorated with a hot pink flame. She paid the woman and balled the leotard up in her fist. "Uh, thank you."

"You're welcome, dear. Oh, good! You've finished up for today? Let me help you sign out." Katniss gave her a strange look, but she was addressing someone behind her. She didn't bother sticking around as the woman greeted someone else with a shrill voice. It sounded like a younger male, but she was more interested in finding her bags. Sure enough, when she entered the gym, they were nowhere to be found.

"Looking for something?" Johanna sang sweetly. She was standing at the base of the climbing ropes, twirling them around in her hands. Katniss looked up and saw her luggage hanging from the rafters of the ceiling. Her shoes were tied together next to them.

She pushed her braid over her shoulder and marched over to the ropes, wrenching one from Johanna's hand without a word. She latched onto the thick rope with both hands and feet and pushed herself, putting all of her anger into the climb. Before long, she reached the top. Now all she had to worry about was getting down in one piece.

With one foot, Katniss pulled the rope beneath her and wrapped it in an S-curl around her ankles. Secure, she leaned out, pulling her shoes off of the ceiling rail first and looping them around her neck. She reached for her backpack next and felt herself slide a little, earning gasps from the group below. A small crowd had gathered around her, watching with curiosity and, in Johanna's case, disgust. Katniss smirked a little to herself.

Her backpack slid down easily, but she had to grapple with it for a moment to get it onto her back. For a moment she simply hung in the air, resting her arm, but her legs were beginning to protest. She snatched the heavy duffel bag out of the air and immediately felt it tugging her downward. With one free arm, she descended the rope and dropped as lightly as she could onto the ground. Katniss' mere presence parted the group of girls around her.

She reached the lobby just in time to see a blond boy saying his goodbyes to the receptionist. He paused for a moment, readjusting the pair of crutches he was using to support himself, and Katniss stared openly. The receptionist — Effie, he'd called her — was beaming at him, and he was smiling back at her as he shifted the crutches under his arms, careful to keep from placing any weight on his left leg. A small gym bag bounced between his wide shoulders as he moved, and Katniss could see his shirt bore the Texas A&M Men's Ice Hockey team logo. Before she could turn her eyes away, though, Effie noticed her watching him.

"Katniss! Come and meet Peeta Mellark," Effie trilled, rising up out of her seat. "Peeta, Katniss here is one of Haymitch's new star recruits!"

Peeta stopped what he was doing and offered her his free hand instead. Cautiously, Katniss approached him and shook it.

"Star recruit?" Peeta asked, lifting his head with a smile. Katniss opened her mouth to deny his praise, but he was still talking. "So you're here to flip and compete like the rest of these girls, huh?"

Katniss yanked her hand out of Peeta's grip and furrowed her brows at him. Effie let out a startled gasp and actually clutched her chest.

"You don't know a thing about me," she grumbled, running out the door without saying goodbye to either of them. Some small voice in her ear wondered whether he'd only been trying to make conversation, but she shoved it aside. Being made fun of by a stranger just about constituted her breaking point. Her face burned as she marched around the building and made her way down to the women's dorms, threw the door open and shuffled up the stairs to find an unclaimed bed. She flung her bags up on the mattress of the first empty bunk she saw.

Katniss wound up herself staring down in the bathroom mirror. Her skin was red and blotched, and her hair was coming out of its braid in several places. It took five full minutes for her to untie her shoelaces and put them on her feet again, but as soon as she did, she took off running.

The Texas sun was drifting lazily through the sky, halfheartedly chasing her as she ran along the highway. Sundown was still an hour away, and she knew nobody would be looking for her. The air was hot and dry, and her body was sheathed in a thick layer of sweat. It felt like freedom. She widened her stride a little and ignored the cars that honked at her as she passed, losing herself in the run. For a while, she could forget about who she was and focus on the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the ground and her braid against her back.

The sun eventually fell below the horizon line, and Katniss knew it was time to turn back. She pushed herself even harder, berating herself for growing tired so quickly after such a short a run. It hurt her pride to be this physically out of shape.

She could hear voices drifting through the windows as she jogged up to the women's dorm and clutched at a stitch in her side. The front door was open, although she suspected that was more out of forgetfulness rather than kindness.

To her surprise, no one turned to look up at her when she entered the room. A few of the girls had gathered on the couches, boxes of pizza at their feet. Katniss' stomach grumbled, but she strode past them without looking back.

It took a full five minutes for the shower to heat up, but as far as she was concerned, the longer it took, the better. It was more time she didn't have to spend in the presence of people who despised her. Eventually, after her hair was unbraided and the mirror had completely fogged up, she stripped down and stepped under the water.

Steaming hot water coursed over her shoulders and down her sides, sending little rivulets off her elbows and onto the tile below. Like everything else at the Abernathy Gymnastics Academy, the bathroom seemed shiny and new. She could see her reflection clearly in the shower drain between her feet, and almost as well in the gleaming wall tiles. Haymitch probably made the girls clean these bathrooms themselves. His behavior unhinged her, and she had no idea what to expect when she went into the gym tomorrow. She wondered whether Haymitch was the type of person who kept his promises, or the type who liked to dangle promises just out of people's reach, only to yank them away at the last moment.

In the end, as she was toweling off and changing into a pair of dark basketball shorts and a loose, sleeveless shirt, Katniss decided not to trust him either way. He had demanded obedience from her, not respect, and that was exactly what he was going to get. As for her teammates —

Laughter trickled through the walls from the common room, along with the voice of a local news anchor. They were discussing the upcoming gymnastics invitational, of all things, and Katniss knew she didn't want to hear another word of it. It was still early, but she balled up her dirty clothes and threw them next to her bags on the floor. She turned out the light without stopping to put sheets on the bed. She would deal with that tomorrow too.

She hoisted herself up onto the mattress and curled in a tight ball, turning her back to face the door. It was easy to make out the muffled sound of the television through the wall, so she covered her face with her pillow and tucked her elbow under her ear. Morning was coming fast, and if she was going to prove herself to Haymitch Abernathy and his squad of gymnasts, she was going to need as much rest as she could get.


	3. The Release

**A/N:** As usual, I am only claiming ownership of dialogue, settings, concepts and characters that were **not** originally part of The Hunger Games or Stick It! I'm really trying to surge ahead and get as far as I can with this before school starts up again, but bear with me if mistakes get through! I've been having a lot of fun incorporating the athleticism of gymnastics into this story, and hopefully by now someone's seeing a pattern in the chapter titles! I'm someone who really loves to read the slow-burn romance, too, so fair warning there. Please keep reviewing and stay tuned for updates, let me know what you're thinking! Thank you all so much for reading so far, and thank you to **raissa20** for your kind reviews!

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><p>Katniss pried her eyelids apart and peeled her body from the mattress beneath her. The room was still dark, and all of her new roommates were still asleep. Good. She clambered down from her top bunk and started to dress. Her search for something to wear was halfhearted — she knew she would stand out like a sore thumb in her gym shorts and baggy shirts — until her hands briefly skimmed her new spandex leotard. She tossed it to the back of her duffel bag and vehemently shoved her hands deeper, searching for suitable clothes with newfound vigor.<p>

Dawn was breaking by the time she managed to wrestle a pair of clean gray shorts from her bag. She pulled a racerback shirt over her sports bra and jogged down to the gym with bare feet. She was starving.

"Good morning Katniss." Effie huffed. She was tapping away at her computer, her nails a vivid lime green. Katniss looked at her as she stood in front of the lobby's vending machine. "You were extremely rude yesterday, both to me and to Peeta."

"I'm sorry, Effie. I, um — I wasn't trying to be rude."

"Yes, well I'm sure you'll do better today, won't you?" Effie brightened, raising her brows and offering her the smallest of smiles. "Now that you've settled in."

"I'm sure I will," Katniss replied flatly. Effie seemed satisfied for the moment, so she bought two packs of granola bars and shuffled away.

The old gym, the one Haymitch had granted her exclusive access to for what would probably be the duration of her stay, was on the far right wing of the building. It was currently bathed in early morning sunlight — she could see hundreds of tiny wisps of dust and chalk dancing aimlessly in the rays of light and tumbling through the air. The smell, of course, was all too familiar.

She quickly decided the old gym was her favorite place in the whole academy. It was certainly the only place where she felt even remotely welcome. The therapy center blocked a good portion of the new gym from her view, and the uneven bars were turned so she could keep her back to everything else. As she stretched, she watched some of the gym's regular clients running along the treadmills and lifting weights. Some had accessories they'd obviously purchased here, like the older man on the rowing machine with the AGA gym bag and water bottle, but most of the others looked a lot like she did. And unlike the gymnasts who stared at her with either curiosity or hatred on their faces, they looked like a quiet bunch that kept to themselves.

Katniss rolled her ankles, unsure of where to start. Her attempt at floor yesterday had been a thrill, but this was real. She had no idea if she could actually do this. After a moment of picking fuzz from the carpet she stood, pushed her braid behind her shoulder and made her way over to the balance beam. It was as good a start as anything else.

She pulled herself onto the beam, testing the scratchy leather beneath her feet. The world tilted as she pushed into a handstand and straightened her spine. It lasted for all of two seconds, and then she was on the floor again.

A familiar sensation coursed through her body — failure. She made herself stand to try again and hit the ground twice before she was steady on the beam, but on her fourth attempt something clicked. She bent her legs in the air above her experimentally, waiting for her body to give in and tumble over, but she felt solid. Congratulations, she told herself, you can now compete with the seven-year-olds.

Haymitch came to visit her in the afternoon when she was on the bars, practicing the Tkatchev. All she had to do was jump from the lower bar to the higher bar, swing completely around it, let go of it completely just as she was parallel to the ground, push her hips up, touch her toes and let her momentum guide her backwards over the bar in time to grab hold of it again. Of course, with him watching her every move, she couldn't manage to get her legs back in time. It started to become a rhythm in her head — the reverberation of the bar in its metal case. The smack of her hands leaving the bar itself. The thud of the mat against her back, her legs, even her face. Haymitch stood silently, watching her with interest.

"I thought you said you hadn't done this for three years. It looks like you never left." The mat burns on her knees flared red with heat. She brushed them off and rose from the Katniss-shaped imprint in the mat.

"I think you need to get your eyes checked."

"It's on my list. How about you slow it down and show me a double pike dismount." He slapped the lower bar with his hand and stepped through the apparatus, waiting at the other end of the mat. Katniss pulled herself up and swung from the lower bar to the higher bar, circling it with a few gainers just to test her momentum. She let go and grabbed onto her thighs, spinning twice in the air before landing on her feet.

"You've gotta throw your hips higher."

"I'm pushing as hard as I can," she argued, tossing her braid behind her back.

"Push harder," he shrugged, walking back to the side of the bar. "Or better yet, take a break to stretch and work on something else. You're not going to win anything with wobbly handstands and a couple of bar routines."

Katniss glowered and followed him, massaging the sore spots on her hands that weren't already blistered. "All right, then, what would you have me do?" She asked, nodding toward the rest of the equipment.

"After your _break_," he retorted, "I want to see how you do on the vault. If I remember correctly, that was one of your particular favorites."

"Fine. Then I'm taking a break," she replied, crossing her arms.

"Fine," He smiled, mimicking her tone. "Go pull five thousand meters on the rowing machines."

Katniss rolled her eyes and walked toward the water fountains, glad to get away from him and the uneven bars. A blister had already opened on the inside of her thumb and it was stinging painfully, begging for relief. She found some tape on a storage shelf and wrapped her hands thoroughly before settling down on the seat of a rowing machine near the wall.

She turned the dial on her wheel forward, putting as much resistance on the chain as she could and pulling the bar to her chest with ferocity. After five hundred meters she was sweating. The tape on her hands was starting to roll and pinch, and it felt good. Her heart was pounding in her ears, the constant stretch and release of her limbs strangely relaxing her. Twenty-five minutes came and went before she realized she had rowed a good hundred meters over her limit. She let go of the bar and let it bounce back into its hold with a loud, metallic bounce.

"Come here often?" A warm, honeyed voice spoke up behind her. She pivoted on the seat and saw a pair of lips smiling lazily at her. Above the lips were a straight nose and a pair of wry, sea-green eyes that were roving her entire face with amusement.

Katniss curled her lip and looked up at the boy beside her. "Do I look like someone who falls for one of those lines?"

He laughed and shook his head blithely. "I thought you looked like someone in need of a distraction. My mistake," he ceded, raising his hands in surrender. "Although, just for improvement's sake…would that have gone better if I was shirtless right now?"

"Oh, that definitely would have made a difference," she replied sarcastically.

"I'll remember that for next time. I'm Finnick, by the way, in case you were wondering."

"The only thing I'm wondering, Finnick," she said, imitating the silky tone of his voice, "is why you're harassing complete strangers as they try to work out."

"I'm a people person. Since you obviously aren't, I had to be the one to initiate our conversation. This is the part of it where you tell me your name," he prompted, as if he was talking to a child.

"Will you leave me alone if I do?" He raised his eyebrows and shrugged a little, glancing at her from the corner of his eye while a slow grin spread onto his face.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen."

"That's what I thought. I'll see you around, Katniss Everdeen," he winked, turning around and striding away before she could protest. Katniss watched him sit down at a leg press halfway across the gym from her and wink at the other gymnasts who were watching him stretch. They giggled at him, and she fumed.

She marched back to Haymitch, who was reclining comfortably against the vault mat.

"Enjoy your break? I see you're still making friends."

Katniss shot him a narrow look as she peeled the sweaty tape from her hands and made her way to the edge of the vault track. He shook his head and laughed under his breath, rising up to make room for her to land.

"Take it easy," he called as she ran down the floor. "You haven't been back that long, and you don't want to —" Katniss flew past him and pounced off the springboard into a handspring front. She would've landed it, too, if it weren't for Haymitch's voice in her ear.

"I said take it easy! Are you listening to me? Did you get a piece of foam lodged in your ear earlier?"

"No."

"Then slow it down," he commanded. "I want you to run through a couple times and focus on your breathing."

She walked back to the edge of the floor and looked to him, raising her eyebrows. He nodded his approval, and she took off running toward the vault again. This time, she bounced off of the board and up onto the vault itself, standing nearly twice as tall as Haymitch. He made her jump down and repeat the process another four times.

"Well?" She asked impatiently, jogging past him again. "Are we done with this part yet?"

"That depends. Have you figured out what's wrong with your run yet?" He countered.

She didn't think there was anything wrong with the way she ran. In fact, she knew she was faster than at least half of the other girls on the team. "What about it?"

"You're pushing your heels too far back," he explained, coming around the vault to her. "Keep your heels light and push your legs forward when you run, and you'll jump higher. Go again."

Katniss could feel several sets of eyes on her back as she walked to the edge of the track. She turned around and rolled her braid off her shoulder, eyes locked on Haymitch for guidance. He nodded, and she took off down the runway, keeping her feet light. Katniss planted her hands down and cartwheeled onto the springboard, immediately pushing off of the vault and rotating in a full layout to the floor.

Haymitch clapped slowly, cocking his head toward her. "That's more like it. Why don't you try it again for your audience over there?"

Katniss peered over her shoulder. Several of her teammates were standing at the edge of the floor and the tumble track, watching her every move. Some of the gym's regular clients were even leaning out from their machines to see what she would do. She pawed at the runway with her foot and locked her eyes on the vault again.

Her legs felt like tightly coiled springs, and her heart was in her throat. This was exactly what she didn't want — an audience. Haymitch was challenging her silently, looking at them and then back at her again, daring her to back down. Like a shot out of a cannon, she took off. The gym became a blur of red and white as she raced down the runway, arms and legs flying. She launched herself at the springboard fearlessly, brushing the vault with what felt like just the tips of her fingers before flying up into a twist and somehow sticking her landing.

The gym was silent except for a few seconds of applause from Haymitch and one loud, gleeful crow from Finnick. The corner of her mouth twitched up into a grin.

Haymitch reached out and offered an arm to her, helping her down off the mat. "You know, for someone who claims to hate this sport, you're awfully good at it."

Her expression darkened, and she drew her arm away from Haymitch once she was on the floor. "I never said I hated it," she replied quietly. He looked at her seriously for a moment before walking away.

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><p>The next week was physical torture. Katniss could feel her muscles starting to tense and burn, and hauling bags of ice up to the top floor of the building always made it worse. She had forgotten what it was like to have her muscles tear themselves apart and grow back together. It was like being on fire, and the hot Texas nights weren't helping.<p>

She lowered herself into the tub, a low hiss escaping her throat. Her sports bra was soaked already, a mixture of sweat and water that had her teeth chattering. Ice cubes clinked around the edge of the porcelain and underneath her knees, numbing every exposed inch of her skin. Little by little, her body acclimated to the water, and she leaned her head back to rest.

"Thanks for that. Now we go to Jeff as he revisits one of the most dramatic Capitol Championships this country has ever seen."

Every muscle in her upper body tensed. Now that the ice had stopped moving, Katniss could hear her roommates in the common area. They were listening to a local news broadcast about the upcoming invitational.

"Katniss Everdeen, wild-child of elite gymnastics and fan favorite, was just one routine away from bringing home the gold when she walked out on her teammates. Some say a tragedy in the family got in the way of her ability to compete — "

"Did they ever find out why?" She heard one of the girls ask.

"Who cares?" another responded. "They're about to start talking about this years' competition."

"It's not easy to forget the image of Everdeen's teammates and rivals standing there in absolute shock as she walked out of the world of gymnastics that day. The young lady we saw knocking over the judges' scorecards is Johanna Mason, another member of team USA whose dreams of gold walked away when Katniss did. She's slated to compete this year at the Capitol Championships, and —"

She couldn't bear to listen anymore. Slowly, she lifted herself out of the tub, hot tears cascading down her cheeks and mixing with the cold droplets on her skin. For a second she stood bewildered, staring down at her chest as the tears fell, mesmerized by the momentary warmth they brought.

She was Katniss Everdeen, the girl who failed, and no matter how hard she trained she would always feel hateful stares piercing the skin between her shoulder blades, always hear local newscasters mourning her apparent loss of sanity. She knew that the second she stepped foot inside the Abernathy Gymnastics Academy, but knowing didn't take away the pain she felt when it happened.

She took a deep breath, wiped her face with her hands and pushed her chin up from her chest. Leaving the bathroom took an indefinite amount of courage, so she walked as quickly as her muscles would allow to her room. She changed into a pair of shorts and a hooded sweatshirt and pulled out the only set of clean sheets she'd brought with her, taking in the scent of home until her lungs were full. No one bothered her as she took extra time to tuck the sheets under the mattress and dutifully smooth the creases out of her pillowcase. It made her homesick for Prim, even for her mother, whom she hadn't had an actual conversation with in months.

Her pale sheets rested lightly over her legs as she curled up on the bed, staring at the blisters on her hands. The unbroken skin of her palms was pale compared to the deep pink of the new flesh beneath. She fell asleep alone, tracing circles on her skin.

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><p>Katniss grumbled to herself, clutching her rib and doing her best to keep pressure off of her ankle. A run had seemed like a really good idea when she woke up early that morning, and now she was paying for it. She'd been trying to make up for three years of lost time before a pothole had slowed her down. She'd been stupid not to see it in the heat waves on the pavement. It wasn't anything big, but it was definitely going to slow her progress, and Haymitch would definitely chew her out if he saw her limping around the gym.<p>

She turned up onto the driveway of the gym and started doing lunges, stretching her legs against a bench before another day of nonstop gymnastics. The hot sun was well on its way to the center of the sky; she could feel the heat of it in her hair already. A car door slammed shut behind her and Katniss turned to find herself face-to-face with Peeta Mellark.

She straightened up immediately, instantly self-conscious in her bike shorts and sports bra. She'd chosen them for the weather, not for attention. He looked anxious too, slowing down instantly as he recognized her.

Peeta was wearing a maroon shirt with black shorts and carrying the same Texas A&M bag he had before; it looked comically small hanging between his broad shoulders. Katniss noticed he was still keeping his weight off of his leg, obviously nursing some kind of sprain or fracture, but otherwise he looked fit. Of course he does, Katniss reminded herself. He's a hockey player. He was probably in the middle of summer training. Peeta's face was bright, but his fingers drummed nervously against the grip on his crutch as he approached her.

"Are you okay? Your ankle..."

Katniss straightened up and silently cursed Haymitch for his crazy no-shoe policy. Her ankle was bruising, but that didn't matter. She was planning on earning a lot of bruises later when she practiced her dismounts.

"I wanted to apologize for the other day," he continued, combing his fingers through his hair. "We kind of got off to a bad start, huh?"

"It's fine," Katniss stuttered, surprised by the sharp tone of her own voice. "I mean, you don't have anything to apologize for."

"If you say so." Peeta shrugged, limping a few steps closer to the door. "You should have seen the look on Effie's face when you ran out. I've never seen her make a face like that."

"Really?" A small grin grew on her face.

He nodded. "She's pretty dramatic for a receptionist."

"Well, she does work for Haymitch."

"He's not that bad, once you get to know him." Something in Peeta's voice changed, and Katniss' face fell. For a moment it looked like he was going to say more about it, but then his expression changed again. "Hey, are you coming in?" He asked suddenly, pointing toward the door with one of his crutches. "I have an appointment in the therapy center I'm gonna be late for."

Peeta's subtle reminder brought her back to reality. She wasn't a good conversationalist, and he was probably regretting the entire exchange. "Go on in," she said, pulling one leg behind her in a stretch, "I'm gonna be out here for a little while longer."

"Okay. Have a good day in there, Katniss. It was nice meeting you for real." Peeta turned and left her outside.

Katniss slumped down onto a bench, pulling her hurt ankle up and kneading it with her hands. At least it wasn't swollen anymore. She waited a good three minutes under the sun, which was hotter than ever, before going through the lobby and saying a quick hello to Effie.

Stalling for time was a must, she decided. The longer she worked out on the regular machines, the more time she would have to let her ankle rest before she had to do any actual work. Maybe she was thinking positively, but the more she walked on it, the better she felt. Something in the air outside had rejuvenated her, and despite her protesting ankle, it had her thinking that today might not be as impossible to get through as she originally thought.

Katniss walked over to the bench press and lifted a few weights onto each side of the bar and taped up her hands again. It wouldn't stop her from getting rips the size of nickels on the bar later, but it certainly helped her old rips to keep from tearing. She let her mind wander as she hoisted the bar off of its hold and up into the air.

Prim was probably just getting to her first class of the day, giggling and laughing with her classmates about boys and unfair teachers and upcoming football games. Prim's laughter always bubbled up like a rush of uncontainable energy so contagious that even the thought of it made Katniss grin to herself with pride. It made her happy to think of Prim growing up so well. Her family had suffered for a long time after they lost their father, and for a while even Prim's smile was a rare sight in the Everdeen household.

Katniss also knew that Prim had to be happy to know she was here. Prim used to be the loudest fan at Katniss' meets, cheering even when her scores were low and she'd brush tears from her face with chalky fingertips. There were times when she'd wondered whether this sport she'd sacrificed years of her life to train for was worth the effort, and then she'd catch a glimpse of Prim in the stands with her mother and, when he wasn't working, her father, grinning with uninhibited joy. That's how she knew that all the mindless rules and the long hours had been worth it. Now, she wasn't so sure.

Katniss could hear female voices giggling across the gym all of a sudden. She was still working on her bench press, so she couldn't see the source of their amusement until he leaned over her.

"You're always so sweaty when I see you. Do I really get you that hot and bothered?"

"One of the two." Katniss grunted, lowering the weight back down her chest.

Finnick raised a bronze eyebrow at her and snorted. "Someone's in a good mood today." He grabbed the bar, letting his fingers skim the side of her hand as he began to spot her.

Finnick's new favorite past time was purposefully messing around, trying to make her uncomfortable with his inappropriate body language and suggestive speech. Normally she would have kept away, but Katniss found him amusing. He liked to hear himself talk and she found that she liked listening to his voice, even when he was whispering lurid sentiments into her ear and telling her secrets about the gym's clientele. He always talked to her like they were good friends rather than newfound acquaintances, and he liked to make fun of people in the gym as much as she did.

"See that woman over there, the one with the headphones?" He said in a low voice, flicking his eyes toward the treadmills. "Her husband drops her off every Wednesday and Friday morning, but she spends her whole workout flirting with yours truly."

"Oh, what, like you don't egg her on?" Katniss challenged, wiping the bench down with and walking to the fountains to get a drink. "You love it."

"Sure, but she's hardly my type," Finnick responded, leaning against the wall beside her. "Tell me, Katniss, do they have you on a twenty-four hour lockdown around here?"

"What Haymitch doesn't know won't kill him," she replied mischievously. "What did you have in mind?"

"Food that doesn't come from that vending machine in the lobby."

"Give me five minutes to grab my shoes." Finnick smirked as she ran through the lobby and down the grassy lot to her dormitory, and Katniss found herself smiling all the way to her room. Sure, it was almost 11 o'clock, and she hadn't done a thing besides lift weights and run, but the promise of a hot meal was too good to pass up. She'd been living on prepackaged granola and breakfast bars for days now.

After swiping a much-needed layer of deodorant under her arms and throwing on a shirt, Katniss bounced down the stairs, relishing the feeling of socks and shoes on her feet. Finnick was already outside waiting for her, leaning up against a blue car and stretching his long tan legs out against the pavement. He had shoes on, shinier and newer than the worn pair she was currently sporting.

"Those are nice," she nodded, gesturing down to the sneakers he wore.

"My coach bought us new ones last spring," he replied breezily, crossing one foot over the other. So he was an athlete, too. Katniss opened her mouth to ask him what team he played for before thinking better of it. He would probably spend their entire trip bragging about whatever sport he played and how he was the star player of the entire division. Instead, she let her back rest on the side of his car and closed her eyes, reveling in the fresh air and sunlight.

"What are we waiting for, exactly?" she asked, her stomach rumbling.

"Not what," Finnick remarked, pushing off the car with his hips. "Who. Here he comes now."

Katniss opened her eyes just as Peeta made his way through the sliding doors of the gym and down the handicapped ramp, heading straight towards them. Her eyebrows shot up in confusion and she turned her head to Finnick. He was already grinning widely, expecting her to react this way.

"You know each other?"

Finnick reached across her, pulling the car door open for her. He spoke in an even, quiet voice, even though Peeta was still hundreds of yards away. "Peeta and I are teammates — we play for Texas A&M's hockey team. I've been driving him here ever since he started coming for therapy on his leg. Got my membership card in the mail last week." Katniss looked over his shoulder at Peeta. He was slow going, but he was almost halfway to the far side of the parking lot.

"You play hockey? I thought flirting with gymnasts and personal trainers was a full-time commitment."

"Oh, Katniss, I'm the co-captain and starting goalie." Finnick laughed at her scowl and laid his arm across the open door of the car, waiting patiently for her to get in. "You should see him on the ice…" he continued, nodding toward Peeta, who was almost at the car. "He sprained his ankle in practice, but he's healing fast. He'll be ready for the first game of the season. Has he told you what his position is?"

She shook her head. Finnick leaned inappropriately close to her then, his nose nearly brushing the side of her cheek as he purred in her ear. "He's what we call a grinder."

Katniss' cheeks grew hot. She flushed, slapping him away just as Peeta walked within earshot and greeted them with a confused grin. She dove into the car quickly, suddenly dreading their little excursion. Finnick helped Peeta stow his crutches in the trunk of the car and into the passenger's seat, turning around to smirk at Katniss as she glowered in the backseat.


	4. Home-Ice Advantage

Katniss sank down low in the backseat of the car, making sure neither boy could see the mortified look on her face in any of Finnick's mirrors. Without checking, she knew hew cheeks were bright red and the last thing she wanted was for one of them to ask her what was wrong. Hiding emotions wasn't one of her strengths.

Finnick's words were harmless, really. Every day he came in to the gym with a new pick-up line to whisper in her ear and every day he acted hurt when she shot him down; his suggestive words were just another part of the easy banter they shared with each other. He loved riling her up more than he loved flirting with the young moms that brought their daughters to practice at the academy, and he was getting really good at it. The more he learned about her, the more he incorporated into their little game, like that time he'd found out her favorite strength-building exercise was climbing the ropes and he'd asked if she was interested in knots and ropes. This time, thought, she'd handed him an opportunity to unsettle her without knowing it; Peeta was a variable she hadn't accounted for.

"So, Katniss," Finnick hummed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, "where to?"

"I don't know. Haymitch doesn't exactly take us out for family dinners…everyone just kind of fends for themselves."

"So you've been eating granola bars and fruit strips this whole time? A growing girl like you needs better options." He reached back to poke her in the knee. "There's a Chik-fil-A, a Wendy's, like, eight thousand different barbecue restaurants —"

"We had barbecue last night, Finnick!" Peeta pointed out.

"— and there's always this really gross bakery Peeta tries to make me eat at —"

He cried out, shoving Finnick's shoulder. "He's talking about my family's bakery," he explained, shifting around in his seat. "We go all the time. He loves it there. He's just mad because Coach told him to cut back on the sweets."

Finnick protested, but Katniss ignored him, shifting up in her seat. "Your family owns a bakery? That's, um, —"

"Surprising for a hockey player?" Finnick interrupted. "Kind of like how it's surprising that you're not wearing a bunch of glittery spandex and doing somersaults right now?"

Finnick raised his eyebrows at her in the mirror, waiting for her to take the bait. She turned to Peeta instead. "Will you decide where we're eating, please?"

He ended up choosing a burger joint with more menu items than she had ever seen at a fast-food restaurant. Rather than pulling into a parking spot, though, Finnick drove around to the drive-through window. At first she was disappointed, but then she remembered Peeta's leg. Finnick caught her eye just then, as if he knew what she was thinking, and verified her suspicions with a nod. Katniss wondered then whether this trip was for him just as much as it was for her.

It didn't take long for them to order and find an empty parking spot to dine in. Peeta and Finnick's car doors were wide open, and both boys had covered the dashboard with their food. Katniss found herself lounging comfortably against the back seat, her feet stretched out the window and her hands full of food. The sun was red behind her eyelids when she sighed and for a long moment, she thought she heard the crickets in the forest back home again. Finnick's car was quickly taking over the old gym's place in her heart.

"So Texas ice hockey," Katniss prompted, sucking the last crumbs of her sandwich from her fingers. "What's that like?"

Finnick was working on a large bite of his own burger, so Peeta answered first. "We're one of thirteen D2 conferences, and one of six teams in the conference. That means we're all right."

"He's being humble," Finnick insisted through a mouthful of food, "we'll be starting ranked tenth this season."

Katniss looked to Peeta for confirmation. He shrugged lightly and picked a french fry off of Finnick's plate.

"Tenth of how many? That sounds pretty good to me."

"Yeah, well once Peeta's ankle heals we'll be in the single digits, which will sound even better."

"Assuming I can still play like I used to," Peeta argued. "If it gets better in time, we might have a good shot."

Finnick tried to argue, insisting that he was the star player on the team and that he'd be back to his old self before long. To hear Finnick tell it, Peeta was a fan favorite before his injury, which had happened during an early practice. Apparently, rather than being known for his scoring, he was one of their best defensemen, one who ran in to take a hit in order to preserve his teammate. Neither of them seemed willing to go into a lot of detail about his accident, and Katniss didn't ask. Peeta was obviously an athlete who loved his sport, who hated that he couldn't support his team when they needed him, whereas she had quit gymnastics at the height of her career and ruined the dreams of almost all of her teammates in the process. He was dying to be there for his team and she hadn't even said goodbye to hers.

His face would probably look a lot like theirs had if he ever found out.

The loud crinkling of Finnick's trash startled her back into focus. "Whatever," Finnick complained as he got up to throw out the trash, snatching Peeta's from under his chin. "She can see I'm right when she comes to our games."

Peeta looked at Katniss with wide blue eyes. "You would do that? Come watch us play?" He beamed at her so brightly that Katniss found it impossible to let him down.

"Sure."

His smile grew, and the sight of it caught her breath. There was something in the small dimples that appeared on his cheeks and the curve of his lips that warmed her, somehow. One corner of his mouth pulled a little higher than the other when he smiled, drawing her attention to a small sunken scar on his cheek. But it wasn't just that he was the first person who had genuinely smiled at her like that, it was something completely unique to Peeta himself. Looking at him was like looking at the sun, the sun that turned leaves to gold in the woods back home. His eyes flitted to each of hers for a moment before he turned around in his seat, just in time for Finnick to return to the car.

"Time to return the prisoner," Finnick sang, buckling his seat belt with one hand and turning onto the highway with the other. "How much time do you think you'll do for escaping?"

"Whatever Haymitch does, it was still worth it…which reminds me, how much do I owe you?" She reached into her pocket for her crumpled wad of cash and nudged Finnick's shoulder with her fist.

"You're not paying me for lunch, Katniss."

"Like hell I'm not," she argued. "How much do I owe you?"

"I'm not taking your money!"

Katniss huffed, letting her hand drop into her lap. "I'm buying next time, then."

"So there's a 'next time' now?" Peeta asked. Katniss could hear the smile in his voice, even though he hadn't turned around. "I thought he said you weren't a people person."

"I also said she was nice once you got to know her, asshole. He never listens."

Less than five minutes of awkward silence later, she was getting dropped back at AGA. The sun was doing its best to blind her, reflecting brightly off the windows of the gym as Finnick pulled up to the front door to let her out. Break time was over, and she was still wearing shoes. Katniss trudged over to the dormitory, tossed her shoes into the corner of her bag and went to the bathroom before heading down to the gym. She'd been expecting to find an angry Haymitch waiting for her when she arrived, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, the minute she entered the gym she was flocked by three of her teammates, demanding to know where she'd been.

"Wait, wait — you went out to lunch with _two_ boys? And Finnick Odair was one of them?" The tall blonde named Madge asked in a dramatic whisper, even though it was still early in the afternoon.

"How did you meet him, Katniss? He talks to you all the time, I see him looking for you sometimes when you run in the afternoons and he comes to get his friend —"

"Can anybody explain to me why we're standing around instead of practicing our floor routine?" Johanna interrupted, elbowing her way into the half-circle that had formed around Katniss.

"Katniss went out to lunch with Finnick and his friend today," one of the shorter girls replied, looking over at her with a small grin. She seemed impressed, almost approving of Katniss' behavior. It was the first time her teammates had offered her anything in the way of friendship, and she had no idea what to do with it.

"We're friends," she stammered, shrugging her shoulders at Johanna. "It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, well you know what is a big deal? Invitationals is only weeks away and we're here standing around instead of running through our drills and routines! Haymitch might not be here right now, but that doesn't mean we can all run off and go crazy. Some of us have a lot riding on this meet." Johanna sauntered away, leaving a chill in the air that sent the rest of Katniss' teammates away with guilty looks on their faces, especially Madge. Katniss tossed her braid and turned to face her equipment with the same amount of enthusiasm.

* * *

><p>The old floor yawned before her, its tape curling at the edges and carpet fraying in all but one corner. Little beams of late afternoon sun were stretching across the gym and lighting patches of the floor as she danced around it, twisting her arms and tossing her body into the air. It was a constant cycle for her — double backs, whip back layouts, arabian double fronts and more handsprings than she cared to count. Her feet were matches striking flint, her hands springs as they slammed into the ground.<p>

Even after nearly two weeks of training, this was still her worst exercise. The more her mind focused on the task at hand, the more her body rebelled. She'd taken to waking up before dawn to run, only breaking for lunch when Finnick and Peeta showed up in the gym, bags of food in hand. It took a while for her to realize they were coming in to watch her progress. A small, rational voice in her head kept telling her that they didn't know or care about how well she was doing compared to her teammates, that they were genuinely interested in learning more about what she did with her time, but it was silenced by a much louder voice, the same voice that was stopping her from joining her teammates on the other side of the gym. It was bad enough having Haymitch watch her.

Of course, that didn't stop him from checking up on her anyway. She started watching him, too, learning his schedule so he couldn't sneak up on her during a routine. A quick glance across the mats as she chalked her hands, a peek at the windows in his office upstairs as she rolled out her ankled and attached her wrist guards to her hands. Katniss wondered whether he was doing it purposely, whether he knew she preferred solitude and was trying to rob her of the small, illusory comfort zone she'd created here.

But apparently he had bigger things on his agenda today, because she found him in front of the lobby doors, arms crossed and eyes shining with importance. His feet were bare today, and his track suit was as clean as ever. He caught her eye and beckoned her over with two fingers before addressing the room.

"After a very careful, thorough review of your skills and improvement in training," he began, running his eyes over every gymnast in the room, watching them gather close in anticipation, "I've determined who'll be competing at invitationals. Girls, please congratulate Madge, Nina, Johanna and…Kirsten."

"What?"

Katniss felt her wrist grips slip out of her hands and fall against her toes. Her blue shorts and her dirty shirt, tied up above her waist with a spare piece of pre-wrap, suddenly felt out of place in the midst of so many clean, form-fitting spandex uniforms. She hadn't meant to cry out and draw attention to herself. Now the other gymnasts had stopped their celebrations to stare at her in disbelief.

"Did you have something to say, sweetheart?"

Katniss knew it was a warning for her to be quiet, but she couldn't stop the words falling out of her mouth. The entire team was staring at her, watching her unravel. "Yeah. You made me a deal. You said I'd compete in the invitational if I stayed and trained."

"You aren't ready to compete," Haymitch replied evenly. "These girls have been here longer, spent more time training their routines than you have —"

"Why the hell should they just get to go?" She demanded. "I'm the first one in here in the morning and I'm definitely last one to leave! What do they have that I don't?"

"Mental stability?" Johanna sneered.

"Take it easy, Johanna. Katniss may be on to something…how would you girls feel about an in-house competition to see who goes to the meet?"

"Are you kidding me, Haymitch? You're going to listen to her? She just wants another chance to screw us over before she leaves again! Do you know how hard we've been working for this?"

Johanna turned to her teammates, expecting loud cries of agreement and disgust to fill the air between her and their coach. She drummed her fingers against her arms, waiting for someone to speak.

"I want to do it."

Katniss had to turn to get a good look at the slender girl who had come to her defense. Rue. She looked like she was at least half a foot shorter than Katniss was, and she wore her short hair free of any harsh clips or hairbands. Her dark skin glowed in the company of the red of her leotard, especially when compared to the other girls, whose pale skin tones were even more washed out against the fabric.

Rue peered at her across the circle as she spoke up again. "I think we should compete for our spots." She offered Katniss a small smile as she said it, and this time, Katniss couldn't help but grin in reply. It seemed like she wasn't the only one who enjoyed seeing Johanna lose.

"Does anyone else agree?" Johanna let out a groan as several girls, including Madge, enthusiastically nodded. Some even thought it would be good practice before the actual competition. "It's settled, then, on one condition…Miss Everdeen needs a leotard."

Katniss caught the twinkle in Haymitch's eye as she bolted out of the gym to retrieve the leotard she'd buried somewhere in her luggage. Outside, the pavement burnt her feet and her shirt stuck to her back, but she couldn't bring herself to slow down. Her heart felt wild and irregular, and her hands were tingling.

Putting on the actual garment took her a little longer than she expected. She took a moment to calm herself down and look in the mirror, frowning at the bright pink flame that rode up the left side of her hip and around to her ribcage. The long sleeves were too hot, she knew, but somehow she still felt vulnerable. The tight leotard offered her no place to hide.

She started looking at the small details of herself instead — the hard lines of her shoulders, the slope of her neck where it met the shiny black fabric, even the curve where the leotard slid down to kiss her back, just above the freckle on her spine. Her skin was growing darker from her morning runs, and the scars on her hands and shoulders were starting to stand out in pale relief. She traced them and turned her neck, eyes following the thin white lines to the place where they disappeared into her hairline.

Leaning in close granted her a new landscape to examine. She was wasting time, she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself from clasping the sink and moving forward. This way, she couldn't see the stupid pink flame on her leotard or the faded scars on her collarbone. Is this how she looked in the mirror at home? Her sweaty hands left the cool porcelain, and then she was pushing the sleeves of her leotard up, running down the stairs.

Katniss had to stifle a laugh when she returned to the gym — Haymitch had brought in Effie as a second line judge. She had apparently refused to remove her shoes, so Haymitch made her stand toward the edge of the wall and take notes. Her bright yellow attire clashed with the walls, and it looked like she was having trouble holding the pen with her long nails. Katniss bit her cheek to keep from smiling and watched as the ceremonies began. It was the first time she had actually seen her teammates perform, and if she was being honest with herself, they were pretty intimidating. Johanna threw her hardest tricks on every exercise, messing up on all but one of her routines, but everyone else seemed to actually enjoy the event. Katniss marveled at Rue in particular, whose short frame reminded her of a bird. She fluttered up onto the bars and weaved between them in graceful flips, landing on the ground with a graceful little twist.

Johanna stepped up to the bar next and spent a ridiculous amount of time making sure the low bar had enough chalk on it. Her routine felt choppier, less focused on revolutions and gliding movements than her teammates before her. She jumped back and forth between the bars as if she couldn't decide which one felt more comfortable, finally dismounting with a layout after she ran out of skills.

Katniss was surprised as she watched the remainder of her team perform. Their lines were clean, bodies contorting and bending and hinging right on cue, but there was no spark. She didn't see anything memorable, anything that made her feel anything. The routines were safe, robotic even. Unlike Rue, who had returned to her spot on the sidelines with a bashful sort of hope written all over her face, or Johanna, who slinked off the mat with self-righteous conceit, the other girls walked away from the bars with no emotion on their faces. Every other apparatus was the same — Rue, the little bird who flitted across the gym, Madge and her long legs that wrote cursive on the floor, Johanna with her startling confidence.

Katniss had no idea what kind of impression she made in comparison, but she knew she didn't look as measured and practiced as the other girls, especially on the floor. Where their limbs swirled and wove, hers seemed to knot and stumble. No other girl looked like she was wrestling with a voice in their head, a familiar whisper telling her to stop trying before she embarrassed herself. She fought to keep her focus.

After an hour or so, it was over. Haymitch made them line up in the center of the floor as Effie totaled points and discussed the winning performances with him in a sharp whisper. She handed him the clipboard with a sly grin and went back to her desk, and suddenly Katniss could feel the silence in the room pressing into her ears.

"Interesting day today," he mused, strolling around them with exaggerated patience. "Lots of effort, lots of drive. We've made a few changes to our invitational roster."

Johanna threw him a deathly glare and switched her weight to her left leg, thrusting her hip out impatiently. "Go on and spit it out. Catpiss is obviously going."

To her horror, and Katniss' immense pleasure, Haymitch let out a sharp laugh. "Katniss _is_ going. So are Rue, Madge and Nina. Johanna, you'll be team alternate."

Katniss walked away to avoid the fallout. Johanna was near tears, complaining about professional scouts and the sun in her eyes, and the other girls were celebrating as quietly as they could to keep her from rounding on them. She felt a surprised sort of gratification wash over her skin — Haymitch had kept his deal after all. She hadn't been expecting it, especially since he didn't stand to gain from having her on the team. Agreement or no, he had no real reason to hold up to his end of the bargain. She caught his eye as she reattached her grips and she knew he was reading her thoughts perfectly. He nodded almost imperceptibly before turning his gaze away, his message clear — _don't screw this up._

His confidence in her was unwavering, but there was no breaking her mood. She felt embers of coal burning in her stomach; the only thing standing between her and the restitution money she needed to go home was herself. The weight of that revelation fell comfortably on her shoulders as she pulled herself up on the beam and began to stretch out her arms. She could see the rest of the girls had gone back to work, too, and their excitement was easy to spot. Madge and Rue were taking turns on the floor, giving each other high-fives as they stuck difficult landings and finished routines with clean dismounts and straight arms. They had clearly been friends for a long time, there was no mistaking the way they anticipated each other's thoughts and reacted accordingly. It was impossible for Katniss to see their happiness and not be affected by it — a small smile grew on her face as she watched them practice. She didn't see Nina slip until she heard the crash.

Katniss jumped down and ducked under the beam as several other girls flocked to Nina, who was on the floor and clutching her shin. Her mouth was contorted in a sharp grimace, her forehead red and her eyebrows knotted together in pain. Nothing looked broken, and there was no blood on the balance beam, but she was obviously hurt. Haymitch rushed over, his track pants swishing loudly as he knelt down and examined her leg. He pushed at the knees of the girls around him, making room for Nina to try and sit up.

She heard him muttering short, focused questions to her, rolling her ankle delicately as he assessed her injury. If the sharp hiss of breath from Nina's mouth was any indication, she was done with practice for the day. Someone from the therapy jogged up to them with a pair of crutches in hand, and together with Haymitch they hoisted her from the ground and helped her across the floor and out into the lobby. Small, angry tears fell from Nina's cheeks onto the ground, and Katniss stared at them as she left the gym.

"Johanna?"

"Yes, Haymitch? Did you need me?" She didn't even have the decency to sound hopeful, as if there was a chance she wouldn't be competing even with Nina gone. Katniss wrinkled her nose and mounted the beam again, trying not to let what had just happened affect her. She'd made it this far without injury somehow, and she was planning to keep it that way. As reluctant as she was to admit it, she felt comfortable on her equipment now. Knowing she was the only one touching her bars and beam made it easier to believe she would never fall the way Nina did. Every step she took on the floor, every skill she completed on the bar, every run down the vault track was now permanently etched into her muscles, her blood and sweat ingrained like a memory onto the fabric and wood beneath her.

Katniss had days to go before she would face people who burned at the sight of her, people who she never wanted to see again. Good, she thought to herself, pulling her chin up and pointing her toes against the leathered beam. She wasn't looking forward to the audience, but she certainly loved a challenge when she saw one.


	5. Crashing the Crease

**A/N:** Six months later, and here we are! I'm not going to say much except thank you for your patience, for your reminders and for the reviews that kept me so encouraged to continue! I'm going to sit down and figure out a schedule I can hold myself to, but in the meantime enjoy this chapter! Be sure to follow my tumblr for extra content about this story and _please_ let me know if you see any typos/mistakes/etc. that I should know about! Thank you again for reading and reviewing!

* * *

><p>"Another hour, ladies…"<p>

It was the second time Haymitch had promised them that this was the last hour they'd spend practicing today, and Katniss _knew_ he was just as aware of it as the rest of them. She took her time kicking a chalk bucket over to the uneven bars and squatted down to run her fingers into the powdery mix, rubbing it over the tape on her palms and underneath her fingernails. She'd been saving her bar routine for the end of the day, trying in vain to let her rips heal before she got back up again. On the other hand, maybe if she bled enough he'd let her go for the night.

As an afterthought, Katniss dipped her feet into the bucket. She felt Haymitch's eyes on her immediately, giving her a familiar look that said to quit stalling because of _course_, out of every other person in this gym, he was paying attention to what she was doing. She rolled her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see her face. She didn't need to be pushed. Not anymore.

She'd been going through her routine for a solid fifteen minutes before she noticed that he was still tracking her progress. He sat back against an old springboard, watching her with a surprisingly smug expression on his face.

"Looks like someone's having fun." Katniss didn't stop to talk, even as he stood under the bar she was practicing on. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I'm gonna need some new hands after I get back from this meet," she huffed, twisting and flying back onto the lower bar.

"Back, huh?"

Katniss frowned a little and paused, pulling herself up to sit on the bar, leaning her elbows on her thighs. "Don't act like you think I'll actually place. I'm going to be the laughing stock of the competition. The sooner we get in and out, the better."

Haymitch took a step forward and peered up at her, resting his shoulder on the metal supports. "You wanna know what your real problem is, sweetheart?"

"Oh, what, is this the gymnastics version of 'it's not you, it's me?'"

"You call it whatever you want to call it, but you're holding onto a mental block bigger than the floor you'll be competing on, and it won't matter _how_ good you are if you can't get rid of it."

"I'm open to suggestions."

Haymitch stepped back and looked at up her with raised brows. "You've spent all this time learning routines but you have next to no practice when it comes to competing on a team. Go practice with some other human beings. Get a feel for what be feel like out under the lights."

Katniss hopped down from her bar. "And what am I supposed to do if they piss me off?"

"Smile, Katniss. Smile and keep your mouth shut."

* * *

><p>An invisible line separated her from the other side of the gym. Katniss rubbed her fingers through the end of her braid, accidentally turning it white with chalk in the process. Haymitch was right — how was she supposed to deal with an invitational full of gymnasts if she couldn't survive a day with her own team?<p>

"You're coming over here now?" Johanna's arms folded together, disapproval seething from her as Katniss pulled herself toward the group. Several red leotards swarmed, making her feel more claustrophobic.

"Haymitch told me to."

"Since when do you listen to him?"

"Shut up, Johanna. She's got as much right to be over here as you. It's all the same building." It was Madge again. She gave Katniss a little nod and then walked over to the vault track as if nothing had happened. It was her signal for Katniss to get to work, and she followed suit by getting in line with the tall blonde.

Johanna turned out to be easy to ignore. She seemed to be taking Katniss' presence as a personal invitation to show off. She pulled herself up to her full height whenever she walked by and coursed through her routines like there were professional scouts in the building. Compared to that, though, the rest of the team was practically thowing her a welcome party. Katniss didn't know how she felt about having people to talk to all of a sudden. It felt a little suffocating to have so many other people around her. She stared across the building at the older half of the gym, suddenly longing for its welcoming silence. She half-wished she hadn't won a ticket to the invitational after all.

"I'm so nervous. I have no idea how I'm going to sleep tonight." Madge was bent over, chalking up the sides of her legs and staring up at Katniss from behind her own elbow. The girl had legs for miles, and she was smiling up at Katniss like they were old friends. "I mean, I know I'll be tired because we're in here for so long every day, but it's exciting, you know?"

Madge took off down the runway before she could respond. Her long frame sprang off the board with enthusiasm, giving her more height than anyone could ever need for the particular skill she was practicing. She jogged to the back of their little line just as Katniss chalked herself up, preparing to run through her own set.

Focusing on keeping her heels light, Katniss took off in wide strides, nearly barreling into the vault. The smack of her hands against the leather felt right, but her body fell a little too far to the right when she twisted back down to the ground. Of course her first attempt would go like that. She picked herself up out of the foam pit, bracing herself for commentary that never actually came, not even when she passed the still-unfamiliar girls in line.

"Keep your legs lined up. It'll help keep you from over-rotating."

Madge was smiling at her again, readjusting her ponytail as she spoke. She talked to Katniss as if she'd known her for a while, and the habit reminded her of Finnick. She figured there had to be something in the water here.

They spent the next few days or so in the same way, Katniss only half-pretending like she wasn't sticking close to Madge and Madge offering friendly advice as if she was actually asking for it. The more they trained, the more she found herself adjusting. Watching her teammates perform didn't just give her time to think, it gave her something to study and compare herself to. She found there was at least one quality of every girl - even Johanna - that she wanted. Madge's agility, Rue's grace, Johanna's way of setting herself apart with her body language. The list went on, and again she found herself wondering why Haymitch had bothered to put her on the team. The feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb remained even as she stepped off the team bus. To anyone else's eyes, though, she was just another one of Haymitch Abernathy's girls, red leotard practically vacuum-sealed to her body and dramatic makeup flaring out from her eyes to match it.

Crowds of preteen girls and their parents milled about the parking lot of the arena, mixing in between the older, shinier mothers of the elite gymnasts who had come here to perform. Their trademark Texan hairdos stood high and sparkled in the sun, attempting to compete with their daughters' glitzy hairdos and uniforms. Katniss could feel the aerosol filling her lungs already. If that wasn't enough, she could see Haymitch eyeing her hawkishly again.

"What?"

"Just making sure you know what you're doing."

The rest of the team was starting to make its way inside, chirping excitedly and taking in the large crowds starting to gather. Haymitch was out of the bus' doorway, shooting her a look that landed somewhere between cynical and curious. She gripped the strap of her bag and pushing her hair over her shoulder, turning to follow them inside without answering him.

She turned her attention to her phone, which was currently filled with dorky, cheerful good-luck texts from Finnick. He'd bothered her for an entire week trying to get her number, and he was punishing her for taking so long to give in. He'd spent twenty minutes impersonating Effie the first time he'd messaged her, telling her she needed to come down to the lobby and fill out paperwork. Now, as if he knew exactly when she'd stepped off the bus and into the halls of the small performance arena, he was asking her questions about everything. Was she nervous, was Haymitch giving her crap, was her leotard riding up her ass — typical Finnick stuff. It almost made her forget where she was. Katniss looked up from her phone just in time to slam into someone else's shoulder.

"Watch out, bitch." The girl in front of her turned, the sour look on her face growing darker as she realized who she was talking to. "What the hell are you doing here?"

A large, square hand gripped her shoulder before she could answer. Haymitch wheeled her aside, only releasing her when they were partially hidden by a large event banner.

"We've been here, what, _three_ minutes?"

"You told me to get along with the team. You didn't mention anybody else."

"Look," he started, pushing his hair behind his ear with his thumb and rubbing his jaw. "I'm not gonna lie to myself and pretend you don't have history with this whole thing, but this is the only chance you're going to get. You asked to be here, so _be here_."

He stood there motionlessly until she nodded, and then finally left to check the team in. Katniss leaned herself back against the wall and heaved a heavy sigh. She tugged at the zipper of her windbreaker, sheltering herself within its swishy fabric for as long as possible. The only way out of this hectic, glittery hell was through the double-doors to the gymnasium where judges, competitors and spectators were already starting to gather. She found her team in the corner opposite the judges' tables and reluctantly went to join them.

"We were wondering where you'd gone off to!" Madge shrugged herself out of her own jacket and tossed it on top of her bag, motioning for Katniss to sit with them. She sank down beside her and let the strap of her bag fall to the ground as she began to roll her ankles out, listening to Madge's commentary on the other teams as she did. It was obvious Madge was a nervous talker, but Katniss didn't mind. It was almost soothing, the way her breathy voice tuned out all of the noise from the people in the bleachers on either side of them.

"This is my first time here," she admitted sheepishly, hands flying up to her hair to check for any loose strands. "It's really obvious, isn't it?" She craned her head as she stretched her back, and Katniss followed her vision. Three girls from another team, decked out in shimmering white leotards, were chatting up the line judges as if this was a Sunday barbeque. The gymnasts looked familiar to Katniss, and her stomach sank when she realized where she knew them from.

"That's not always a bad thing," she muttered back, drawing her eyes back down to her own hands. She sat up a little straighter, looking Madge in the eye. "These judges don't know you yet. Those other girls have been here before, and the judges already know how they're going to perform. You're new. You can make an impression."

It was the most Katniss had ever said to her teammates in one sitting, and she felt several eyes on her as she finished her short speech. Besides Madge, Rue seemed to be particularly moved by what she'd said.

"How?" The little bird-like girl folded into a pike and pulled her head to her knees, turning it to the side so she could still see Katniss' face. The image of Prim curled up in her little bed at home flew to her mind, and she had to blink back memories of home before she answered.

"You stop playing it safe. Haymitch wants you to put on the same routine he's pushed out for years, and the judges will be waiting for that." She stood up, adjusting the sleeves of her leotard and tightening the ponytail on the end of her braid. "Make them look." Rue pursed her lips and Madge nodded thoughtfully, looking as though she'd never considered showing off before now. Even Johanna had nothing to say in response as she turned away and dug through her bag again.

Predictably, another message from Finnick sat waiting on her screen. She unlocked her phone for the last time that morning, ready to tell him off for asking her who had the skimpiest competition leotards on. Rather than sending her any innuendos, though, she found a picture of Finnick and Peeta waiting in her inbox with a very short message underneath it.

_We see you._

Katniss' head flew up, eyes scanning the crowd until she found two familiar faces grinning back at her. Her eyes widened, and she waved in their direction before turning back and sending a message in reply.

_Did you follow us here?_

She sent it and quickly shut her phone, suddenly ready to pretend neither of them had shown up. It was bad enough being there to begin with, but now she had the image of them in the stands watching her to occupy her thoughts while she waited. Sure, the competition wasn't more than an hour's drive out from AGA, but she had no idea what would have possessed them to make the trip. Finnick liked to make fun of her and the other gymnasts from time to time, but she'd never pegged him as actually being interested in the sport. His reply cut off her train of thought. Katniss swiped at her phone screen again, and then a sudden wave of liquid covered her and her phone.

"What the hell!" She looked up and locked eyes with a girl she'd never met in her life. She stood flanked by two other friends, both wearing the same dismissive scowl on their faces. The girl in front held an empty soda cup in her hand as if she was about to throw that, too.

"That was for the Capitol Championship last year," she sneered, folding her hands and holding her empty cup against her arm.

"What?" Katniss repeated, wiping soda out of her eyes. Her leotard was now sticky and splotchy, stained dark where the drink had hit it. She could feel it running down her neck and her legs, and it didn't take an idiot to realize nearly everyone else was staring at her too. Her face burned with embarrassment and her fists clenched reflexively. She tried her best not to let her eyes leave the girl in front of her, but she couldn't help but look at Haymitch, who'd been mid-conversation with another coach before it happened. He made a beeline toward her, and she realized she was standing there with her mouth hanging open like an idiot. The noise level in the room quickly returned to its normal as he approached, and that was all the encouragement she needed to walk back and rip her wallet out of her bag.

"What was that?" Haymitch's hand found its way to her shoulder again. She brushed it off before the full meaning of the gesture could hit her.

"I'm fine."

Haymitch paused for a moment, huffed to himself and then followed a couple steps behind as she stood and made her way out into the hall. Racks of leotards were waiting near the large lobby, and Katniss tore through them violently, looking for something that wouldn't completely devastate her savings.

"That one looks like something you'd wear."

She briefly examined the leotard she'd been pushing out of the way — a bright-pink, sequined ensemble with purple stars circling the collar. It looked like it belonged on a four-year-old. She laughed humorlessly, moving on to the next rack and focusing on price tags before anything else. Everything cheap enough was made for children, and everything in her size looked like something Effie had designed for herself. She shoved a long-sleeved leotard fall back into place and stared at the rack with a frustrated growl. This was the one place in her life where money wasn't supposed to be a problem.

"Here." Haymitch appeared, shoving a hanger her way. The leotard he'd found was green and black, and a good forty dollars over the whole wad of cash she'd brought with her.

She shook her head and pushed the leotard back toward his arms. "I can't afford this."

"Consider it a late welcoming gift." he explained, rolling his eyes at her as if she should have been thanking him already. Katniss lingered where she stood before accepting it, searching his grey eyes for some sign that this was a joke. He stood there and shook his head, anticipating her thoughts again.

"They're about to announce the program. Better go get changed," he suggested evenly, tapping the edge of the hanger with his index finger. "Try not to get soda all over that one."

"Can't make any promises."

* * *

><p>The mats on the floor may have been a little faded and some of the equipment looked older than some of the gymnasts using it, but everything around Katniss was a tornado of light and sound. Floor music punched the dry air around them, intermingling with cheers from families in the stands and the sound of bodies hitting mats. It was desensitizing, the way the other gymnasts' feet pounded into the stuff pads on the floor. Katniss closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself back at AGA, where nobody wore shoes and hateful looks could be avoided with relative ease. Johanna certainly wasn't much, but at least she'd never thrown something at her. Rue was up first for their team at vault, and the less focus she put toward her own performance, the better.<p>

Rue always started her routine out with a her own mental routine. Katniss saw her look at the score board, the judges and then Haymitch for a long moment before even stepping up to the vault track. Haymitch mouthed commands to her and she nodded back, stretching her arms out behind her back and pawing the floor with one foot. Both judging tables turned over Rue's start value — a 9.3 — and then it was time for her attempt. Katniss sat on the end of their little row of chairs and watched as Rue took off, her short frame moving down the runway without ever seeming to touch the ground. She smiled to herself as she caught a glimpse of the determined scowl on the younger girl's face. Rue cartwheeled onto the springboard and flung herself back, pulling her arms to her chest as she spiraled down into the landing mat. Katniss winced as Rue's butt hit the ground, the rest of the crowd behind them emitting a short groan. Despite the fall, she quickly recovered, standing to present herself to the judges and walk back down the track.

"Way to go," Katniss congratulated as Rue plopped herself onto the sideline with them. She looked a little flushed, but pleased with herself anyway. "That was almost a one-and-a-half," Katniss continued, impressed.

Madge congratulated her on her way to the track as Haymitch pulled the springboard guard away and the judges sent up the green flag. Her start value was higher — a 9.7 — and it was clear from the look on the judges' faces that they were expecting something big. Madge zeroed in on the board like a lightning strike, pulling her knees to her chest for an attempt at a double front. She stumbled to the side as she landed, falling right into Haymitch's arms as he let out a cry of protest. The audience clapped politely as Madge posed in her dismount and walked back to her seat.

Katniss didn't have to look up to know Haymitch's eyes were on her as he followed Madge down the runway and stood at her side, checking to see if she was all right. He practically growled as Katniss stood up to take her turn.

"That was amazing," Madge smiled back nervously, pulling at the sleeves of her uniform and glancing back at Haymitch. "Don't worry about him," Katniss encouraged. "Follow your gut. Who really cares if your landing's not perfect?"

Haymitch was waiting for her as she walked toward the runway. She tried avoiding him by stepping up to the chalk bucket, but he followed close behind, leaning over to mutter in her ear so that no one else could hear.

"Mind explaining what you're doing?" He asked in a too-calm voice.

"Well, Haymitch, gymnasts use chalk to cover their limbs and make it harder to slip during a routine. Kinda thought a seasoned veteran like you would know something like that." She grinned up at him as he stood there, unamused. "I'm doing what I practiced. You don't have to worry about me ruining your stellar reputation."

He grabbed hold of her, forcing her to stop running her hands along the rim of the chalk bin and look at him. "This isn't about my reputation, Katniss, and it ain't just about you, either. Those girls have worked harder and longer than you to be here. Quit telling them how to perform and do what you came here to do — win some money and leave."

"Then let go and let me do it." She shot back, rolling her arm out of his grip. She could hear Madge and Rue cheering her on from their seats on the side as she stretched. She drew her face into a blank mask as she prepared, running every step of her vault through her mind before she even approached the start of the track. The chalk on her hands felt heavy, but not as heavy as the eyes of everyone focused on her. Katniss took in a breath, forgetting about all the familiar faces in the room and training her vision on the vault in front of her. This was it.

Her braid bounced off her back all the way down the runway, flying up off her shoulder each time her left foot hit the ground. The floor came up to meet her as she launched herself toward the board in a cartwheel, legs flying up over her and pulling the rest of her through the air. She snapped her arms up against her chest as she spun and pointed her feet as tight as her muscles allowed. Her braid smacked painfully against her face when she landed, but her feet stayed where they were. The crowd erupted in surprised applause as Katniss straightened herself up and presented herself to the judges, and she took a moment to shoot Haymitch a look as she walked back to her seat. A loud whoop sounded across the room just then, reminding her that Finnick and Peeta were still somewhere in the audience.

"Nice one!" Rue and Madge pulled her focus back, getting up out of their seats for a moment to congratulate her as she sank back down in her chair. Johanna was already making her way onto the track, and Katniss wanted to see what she could do. To her surprise, she took off down the runway toward the vault and turned one of the simplest high-scoring tricks she could do. Katniss leaned forward in her seat, blinking at the scoreboard behind the judge's table. Her name sat in second place, but that wasn't what she was worried about. It was Johanna's name next to hers in third and the rest of her team sitting far below them both.

She nudged Madge's arm and pointed at the board. "What's with them? You both threw harder tricks than her. You should be up there."

Madge's eyes flicked to the scores for a moment before returning to her lap. She shrugged, and that was all the answer Katniss got out of her. Their time on the vault had ended, and Haymitch was ushering them up and out of their seats to the bars. Again, Rue and Madge placed difficult skills in their routines, and again Katniss saw their scores falling further down the scoreboard. She knew that deductions were almost unavoidable in this sport, but none of the other girls were perfect, either. It didn't make sense — until it did. The judges were punishing them because she was there.

Katniss stepped up to the bars, smacking the chalk off of them before dusting them over again. She rubbed her palm against the wood angrily, waiting for the green flag from the judges so she could begin. In the silence during her routine, she could hear Johanna muttering about her to the other girls.

"See?" Johanna hissed, only half-trying to keep her voice down. "She wants you two to lose. All she cares about is getting her prize money so she can go home." Katniss paused before rotating around the high bar again. "I'm surprised she hasn't walked out already, knowing how last time went. I can't believe you two fell for that."

Katniss landed on the mat with a hard thud, and the audience clapped as her name fell to third place on the scoreboard. She kept her eyes on the ground as she walked back over to her seat, careful to keep as far away from her teammates as she could. She could feel heat rising back up onto her face as they stared at her, apparently as unwilling to be near her as she was them. The rest of bars passed by as nothing but a series of sound waves hitting her ears, and then it was time for beam. She trailed ahead of their small group, more ready than she had been all day to get the damn thing over with.

"How was that, Katniss?" Johanna asked proudly, stretching her legs out beside the beam, pointing her hands out in front of her. She hated how close they had to be in a small competition like this, how sharing personal space with her teammates was unavoidable. "Did they bite it hard enough for you?" The other two girls stayed silent. Madge was suddenly very interested in a spot on the floor, and Rue was looking at her with guilt and doubt written across her face. It was hard for Katniss to tell which one felt worse.

She prepared to mount the beam first, chalking up to give her hands something to do. They shook when she tried to hold them still against her sides, so she pressed them into the side of the barrel, taking a deep breath. It was time to block everything out again, but Haymitch's presence at her shoulder demanded otherwise. It seemed like Johanna's little speech had been heard after all.

"You know," he bit out, standing as far as he could from her without having to speak above a murmur, "I had high expectations for you when you showed up at my gym. Thought you might actually surprise someone. Sucks being wrong, doesn't it?"

He walked away with real disappointment in his eyes and left her standing there just as the green start flag rose up in the air. Katniss rounded off the springboard and onto the beam, and the room fell silent again. This time, it was easy to block out any noise from the other apparatuses, the encouraging claps from strangers in the audience. Katniss' ears filled with the echo of Johanna's words in her head, Haymitch's following close behind.

Katniss' arms raised high above her head. _"I'm surprised she hasn't walked out already, knowing how last time went." _She leapt backward, flipping down and catching herself just before her thighs could hit the beam. _"I had high expectations for you." _She somersaulted backwards again, pulling back to the edge of the beam and preparing to rise up again. Suddenly the smell of soda lifted off her skin and into her nose. _"That was for the Capitol Championship."_ She attempted another front tuck and slipped sideways on her landing, tumbling down onto the mat below. She forced herself back up as the crowd groaned and paused again, ignoring her heartbeat in her ears as she pivoted into a handstand. Slowly, she spread her legs apart, checking her balance before lifting one hand off of the beam and out to her side. She kept her eyes on her hand below her, watching as a tear finally dropped onto the leather beside her hand.

Katniss lowered her hand down, placing it back onto the beam as she fought to keep her vision clear. She curled her hips forward and spun, seating herself back onto the beam before standing again. She sniffed, hating herself for the sound it made, and raised her hands up again, dismounting from the beam with a front walkover and a tuck. The whole room applauded politely as she made her way over to her bag on the floor.

Haymitch sauntered over to her, either ignorant of the tear trails on her cheeks or ignoring them purposely. "Shake it off, Katniss. There's one event left. You can deal with it after that." She pulled her track pants on slowly, without an answer. "Katniss, warm up."

Katniss zipped her bag closed and stood up, pulling it over her shoulder and turning for the door before he could get another word out of his mouth.


	6. The Breakaway

**A/N:** Look, an update in less than two weeks! Told y'all I was back! As always, thank you for your constructive words and for following; I hit 100 followers between last update and now, and I can't believe how wonderful all of you are for sticking with this story and being so encouraging and supportive. These last two chapters were a big emotional hump to cross over, and I'm so, so excited for what's coming next (hint: our slow-burn romance is finally brewing in the air!) Thank you again, and please continue to message and review with your thoughts, either here or on my tumblr!

* * *

><p>The door to the arena slammed against the wall behind Katniss as she jogged out into the empty lobby, fumbling through her bag for her phone. She had no idea how expensive cab fare was in this part of the state, but she couldn't psychically bear the thought of staying at the competition arena. A gaping hole was crumbling open in the place where her heart should be, making it difficult for her to do anything except lean against the wall and try to pull cash out of her wallet. She felt weak, and she <em>hated<em> it. It only surprised her a little when Haymitch burst through the doors a minute later. She didn't bother to look up.

"I'm not in the mood for another one of your lectures right now, _Coach Abernathy."_ She'd seethed his name out with all she had in her, but it still came out as a pathetic, hiccuped sob. "It is honestly the last thing I need."

Haymitch leaned down, getting up close in her personal space. "You are this close," he emphasized, pushing his fingers close together in front of her eyes. "This close to fulfilling your end of the deal and getting out of here."

Katniss refused to answer. Answering meant she was having this conversation with him, and that wasn't happening.

"For a while, it seemed like you cared about this sport...enough to see the other side of this meet, at least. That was my mistake." Katniss raised her eyes, meeting his and finding the exact shade of bitterness she was expecting to see. "I should have done a little more research on you. I figured you walking out of the Capitol Championships had to be some kind of fluke, because people with your level of talent usually finish strong. They have a habit of finishing what they start."

It felt like he'd reached into the cavern in her chest and pulled it wider, ripping at the seams with his words. Katniss could barely see him between the tears and the anger in her eyes. She laughed, and the sound of it echoed through the empty lobby like a crack of thunder.

"You don't know the first thing about the Capitol Championships."

"Then enlighten me."

"What's the point? You don't actually care what happens to me! You get a big, fat check from my mom every week I'm at your stupid gym!"

"Do you see anyone else out here?" He spread his arms out wide, and it was more than painfully obvious that she didn't. He let his hands drop down to his side and turned back toward the door. "You're right. I don't care if you compete or not. You're the one who should care, because nobody is going to change a damn thing about how the world sees you except you."

Haymitch pulled one of the double doors open to leave. The sounds of the meet suddenly dominated the air around her head, floor music mixing with cheers and the sound of skills being performed. He was right; it was like she had never been there in the first place. The world of gymnastics had stopped caring about her a long time ago, and coming back was a harsh reminder of that. She couldn't blame him for being honest.

"My father was killed three years ago. I found out right before my routine at the Capitol Championships."

Katniss heard him drop the door handle in surprise just as memories of her seventeen-year-old self swam into sight. She'd been sitting next to Johanna that day, playing with her phone while waiting to warm up and secure the gold for the team. The thing was barely a month old, a present from her parents for getting this far in the sport she loved, and it was for emergencies only. Gymnastics is a dangerous sport, after all, and if her family couldn't be there for her if she got hurt during the meet, then at least she had a way to reach them.

Turns out she wasn't the one who had needed it.

Haymitch stared at her like she'd slapped him, and then a heavy look crept up into his eyes.

"Katniss, I didn't —"

"I know you didn't," she hissed. "Nobody does, and that's how my family wanted it. We had news crews knocking on our door for weeks, asking why I walked out on my team, and I wasn't even allowed to answer the door for a month." The pity on his face was only getting more pronounced, and she regretted asking the question, regretted giving him a reason to look at her like that at all. "But you know what?" she continued, her wet eyes trailing back to the door behind him, "you didn't need to know any of that to treat me like a decent human being."

He had the decency to drop his eyes to the floor as she gathered her things and walked away.

Heat waves rolled off the pavement and up onto Katniss' legs as she sat on the sidewalk, trying in vain to hide herself from the afternoon sun and find a ride back to the gym. The first cab company she'd called charged way too much for the hour's trip back to AGA, her backup hadn't picked up at all and, judging by the look on Johanna's face as she'd walked out of the competition twenty minutes ago, there was no longer a place for her on the team bus home. Katniss threw her phone into her lap as a third taxi company's voicemail message played in her ear and hung her head in her hands. After a minute, her phone buzzed again.

_You look like you could use a ride._

Finnick's car pulled up in front of the curb as she read the text message, and she watched as Peeta turned around in his seat to open the back door for her. It was probably a bad idea, she thought, but she slipped inside the car and buckled herself into the hot leather seat without a word, trying desperately not to think of home.

* * *

><p>Several miles came and went with nothing but the hum of the air conditioner to fill the silence around the three of them. Finnick seemed to be taking his time finding an alternate route back for them, steering them down windy side roads whenever he got the opportunity and cruising on the slow lane of the highway when he couldn't. Every scrubby weed and under-watered garden they passed was drenched in hazy sunlight, some yards surviving the summer drought better than others. Even the pavement itself looked parched, cracking along the shoulder of the road like roots searching for water. Every once in a while, Katniss would remember where she was and look up from the landscape. Almost every time, Finnick was watching her through the rearview mirror, but if he was curious about her current emotional state he kept it to himself.<p>

"Just can't keep your eyes off me, can you?"

Finnick was smiling toothily as his eyes met hers. Apparently, no amount of emotional distress could keep him from saying something vaguely inappropriate to her. The corner of Katniss' mouth tipped up involuntarily as she quickly pulled her head back onto the window. He was trying to lift the mood in the car, and really, she appreciated it, but she was a lousy conversationalist on a good day and her return to the gym was drawing closer every second. Persistent as ever, Finnick kept talking as if she'd answered him.

"To answer your earlier question, we didn't follow you here. I made Peeta look up the place and we found it ourselves. Took a while to get our seats, of course, with all of those single moms in the audience…"

Peeta groaned from his seat. Katniss couldn't see his face, but she was sure she heard an eye roll in there somewhere.

"And what's with the reheated nachos they were serving? Do they want people to watch the competition or spend it in the bathroom?"

"We weren't supposed to buy concession stand food, idiot, we're in preseason."

"Oh yeah?" Finnick argued. "Is that why you ate half?"

They continued down the road like that, Finnick asking her every question he'd come up with during the meet. Somehow, when it was the two of them she was talking to, Katniss found it easier to talk about the world of gymnastics. They didn't know the politics of the sport, especially the ones surrounding her past, and it made her feel surprisingly normal. When he asked, she told him about the adhesive spray gymnasts use to keep their leotards from riding up, and it took a while for both of them to recover.

"I mean, it makes sense," he continued, shrugging a shoulder and trying to keep his voice serious, "how are you supposed to stick your landing and pick your wedgie at the same time?"

"You'd get deducted for trying," Katniss replied. "You have to pull your hands up and point them, or else you get points taken off, assuming you didn't screw something else up in the air or on your run. Sometimes they even deduct if your hair is too long."

Finnick squinted at her through the mirror. "You're kidding." She wasn't. "How are you supposed to remember all of that when you're trying to fling yourself through the air without dying? I mean, who would be that anal?"

She shrugged and pushed her hands between her knees, all of the humor disappearing from her eyes. "It's a pretty screwed up world," she admitted.

Finnick eyed her cautiously as they approached a red light, weighing some big decision in his head.

"You know what, Everdeen? We may not know what the hell happened to you — hey!" Peeta smacked him mid-sentence for putting it so bluntly. He turned to look at her for a second, those apologetic blue eyes of his checking her face for any signs that they'd upset her. Finnick waved his hand in Peeta's face, continuing as if nothing had happened. "Listen, we're gonna take your mind off it. You're gonna hit your mattress tonight and you're gonna be all like, '_wow, Finnick and Peeta are so cool, I can't even remember why I was so bummed before._'" He made his voice squeaky and high, and that was what finally got a laugh out of her. She knew she still sounded a little throaty from crying, but it didn't really seem to matter to either one of them, so she nodded.

"You can definitely try."

"Good," he grinned, "because we're almost there."

Finnick seemed smug, as if this had been his plan all along, but Peeta's face lit up the moment she said yes. It was the exact same expression she'd seen on his face when she'd hastily agreed to go to one of their hockey games, and she couldn't understand how something so small could make him look that happy. Whatever it was, it was contagious, and she actually felt a little anxious to see where Finnick was taking them. She was still in her leotard and warmup pants, for starters. She could count on getting stared at wherever they were headed.

Katniss sat up a little higher in her seat, craning her neck to look out the other window at the road ahead of them. They weren't passing anything remarkable, just neighborhood after neighborhood of high-end townhomes and the occasional public park. Peeta seemed to know exactly where they were headed, though. He turned around in his seat and smiled reassuringly.

"He's taking us to the ice rink where we practice," he explained, twitching his head back to draw her eyes to the windows on their side of the car. Finnick had pulled them into the parking lot of a large, tan brick building with a nearly empty parking lot. It looked more like a school than an ice rink, at least from this side of the building. Katniss unbuckled herself quickly as the two of them opened their car doors and the first rush of hot air hit her instantly. Finnick handed Peeta his crutches within seconds, looking as anxious for air conditioning as she felt, but he kept his pace measured and slow as they made their way to the front doors so Peeta didn't lag behind. It made them look like brothers.

The smell of stale sweat and old shoes assaulted her nostrils the moment she entered the rink lobby. Apart from the single mounted television mounted to the wall that was playing a closed-captioned commercial for a local car dealership, everything else was quiet. That was rare occurrence here, according to both of them. Katniss tried to picture a busy night at the rink, images of teenagers lacing up their skates and piles of drawstring bags on the floor coming to her mind. Peeta and Finnick both waved at the bored redhead working the front desk and then led the way through the lobby and down the hall, showing her all the photos and newspaper clippings on the wall along the way. There were some really old ones of when the ice arena was first built, with a bunch of scraggly looking men posing around a banner that was celebrating their first year of business. Smaller photos of team practices and cheering crowds followed after that, along with an entire page of the local paper. From what she could tell as they passed, it was an article celebrating the Texas A&M hockey team's first home victory.

"That was one of three games they won the entire year," Peeta remarked when he saw her reading the story. He shook his head sadly. "It wasn't pretty."

"Well what do you expect?" Finnick shot back. "This is Texas. If it weren't for the Stars, no one in this state would even know what hockey is."

He had a point. It went without saying that football was the state's sport of choice, and she couldn't remember ever hearing about a winter sport that wasn't basketball until she'd started college, at least not in her town. The farther down the hall they walked, the more modern the pictures became. Katniss stopped when she got to the end of the row when two familiar faces caught her eye.

"Is this your team?" She asked, running her fingers along the smooth photo paper. Peeta hobbled forward a little to stand next to her, the edge of his elbow brushing against her sleeve as he adjusted his crutch beneath his arm and reached up.

"The defensemen are all over here," he pointed, drawing her eyes to the left. He and Finnick stood with only a couple of men between them. Everyone was posing seriously, their faces shiny with sweat even though the uniforms looked fresh and clean. "They made us put those on after practice was over, so the picture would look better," he chuckled, easily reading the slight confusion on her face. "And in case you can't tell by looking, that was our first year on the team."

Now that he'd mentioned it, both Peeta and Finnick looked obviously younger and thinner than they did now. Finnick looked pointy, not having grown into his height just yet at the time the picture was taken, and Peeta's face looked a little rounder than it did now. She stared for a moment longer, trying to reconcile the two images in her head before a shout of joy pierced her ears.

"Mom, look!" A boy who didn't look a day over seven was tugging on his mother's arm, waving at them excitedly. Katniss furrowed her brow and turned to look at Peeta, who was waving back and nudging Finnick in the ribs to get his attention.

"Do you know him?" Katniss asked quietly, wondering if either of them had siblings she hadn't heard about yet.

"No, but he probably knows us," Finnick replied without looking at her, ready to greet the kid as he tore away from his mom and barreled toward them. "How's it going, little dude?"

The young boy slowed down as he reached them, a sudden case of shyness fighting with his urge to say hello. He glanced back and forth between Peeta and Finnick with a shy smile before glancing back at his mother. He was missing one of his front teeth, and it made him look like a miniature hockey player.

"Oh, wow, did you lose that front tooth on the ice?" Peeta exclaimed, moving closer and turning his head to the side. "How many minutes did you get in the penalty box for that one?"

"I didn't lose it ice skating, I don't know how yet," the boy replied, as if it was obvious. "I'm getting lessons."

Katniss saw his mother start to head toward them, the lobby attendant following close behind. It looked like he was going on the ice for the first time today, judging by the helmet and the tiny skates she carried in her hands.

"Tell you what," Finnick said, clapping his hand onto Peeta's shoulder, "if you ever see us here and you want some pointers on the ice, you just come find us, okay?"

"Really?" He smiled again, the missing tooth and squeaky voice making him seem even younger somehow. Finnick nodded and held his fist out.

"Fist bump seals the deal."

The boy reached out and bumped his hand into Finnick's larger one, all shyness forgotten, and then he ran back to his mother, repeating their whole conversation excitedly as she led him over to the benches and started lacing up his ice skates. She tightened the helmet over the boy's unruly hair and smiled at them over her shoulder, clearly charmed by their friendly behavior. Peeta laughed as Finnick's smile grew wider, his white teeth pointed dazzlingly at the boy's mother.

"Dude, she's got a wedding ring on," Peeta muttered with a laugh that said this happened all too often, "Not your type."

Finnick sighed in response and turned to face the both of them again. "Fine," he muttered dramatically, giving the woman one last look. "Then let's go."

As it turned out, they hadn't brought Katniss here to skate, either. Peeta and Finnick continued to show her around the rink instead, explaining little fragments of their history there. She got to see the crack in the trophy case, caused by a fan after a rival team's three-game winning streak was broken in second overtime, the names of famous alumni scratched into the doorframe of the locker rooms downstairs, the busted overhead light that had taken one too many hits from wayward pucks.

"Why not just take it down?" Katniss asked, leaning her back against the cold row of the bleachers they'd sat down on. She couldn't help staring up at the flickering lamp that hung just over the center line, even though the unsteady light made her blink.

"Ah, that'd be bad luck. That thing started blinking two years ago, and we've qualified for nationals every year since," Finnick explained, leaning up and pointing at the championship banners that hung on the walls around the rink. "I've tried to hit it so many times, but you just can't replicate magic like that."

"Who hit it last time?" Katniss asked, amused.

"Cato Clemmons." Peeta spoke up for the first time in the whole conversation, and his voice sounded a little sharper than Katniss was used to hearing it. His eyes were turned down, away from both the light and the rink itself, fixed right on his injured leg instead. He was sitting on the very edge of the bleachers next to them, his bad leg propped up on the next lowest seat and the other swinging slowly off the edge of the row.

"Peeta and Cato and I are the team's three alternate captains," Finnick quickly explained, taking her focus away from Peeta's sudden mood swing. "The fans and reporters decided he was attractive enough to be the team's poster boy last season — God knows why, by the way, he's uglier than a stump — so now he's all anyone ever talks about, especially after hitting the lamp." He looked at her and rolled his eyes. Cato was no ray of sunshine, apparently.

Katniss frowned, even though Finnick was playing the whole thing off as if it didn't really matter. She could see there was more to it than that, more than just an annoyance with their teammate's popularity. Peeta and Finnick were both so easygoing, at least from what she'd seen, that it had to be something serious, something personal. She glanced over at Finnick, sorry she had asked in the first place, and he shook his head to tell her it wasn't her fault.

Peeta shook his head slightly as well, clearing the dark expression from his face. He looked up at her and Finnick with a tentative, knowing grin, and then it was like he'd never been upset to begin with. "You wanna show her the best seat in the house?"

"Now there's a good idea." Finnick jumped up before she could answer, nodding and shaking his finger at Peeta vigorously. The bleachers creaked in protest as they made their way back down to ground level and passed the storage unit that housed the zamboni machines. Peeta led them back through the locker room hall and up a narrow flight of stairs that turned out to be the entrance to the press box. It was small, maybe wide enough to fit four people shoulder to shoulder sitting down, and tables jutted out from every inch of the dark wall surrounding them. Acoustic foam covered every wall but one, which was a solid length of glass that ran from floor to ceiling. The view from this angle wasn't exactly breathtaking, Katniss thought, but the entire building was empty now. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to think of the sounds of players flying on ice and spectators filling the stands around them, music booming and spotlights dancing around the rink. She tried to picture their team as they came on the ice, Finnick looming in the goal, Peeta sweeping around and staying close to his fellow alternate, both of them intimidating and deadly. She knew it had to be much more intense than anything she could imagine; it had to be something else.

"Y'all ready to head back?"

Finnick finally broke her away from her self-instilled daydream, peering at her from his spot in the corner. She turned and nodded to him, pushing her braid behind her shoulder despite the reluctance that swelled up in her chest. Spending the morning away from anything related to gymnastics had been more of a breath of fresh air than she'd realized. Whether he guessed it or not, Finnick had been right. She'd managed to forget about everything the second she'd stepped out of Finnick's car and into the ice arena with them, and that wasn't just something she could pass off with a simple thank-you. She owed them something now, and she had no idea how to pay it back. The thought was more than just a little terrifying, because Katniss couldn't think of a single thing she could offer.

Frustratingly enough, they were making it difficult for her to even try, declining her offer to pay them gas money or to let her buy them lunch in exchange for the ride. She kept at it for the entire trip, stuck somewhere between amused and frustrated at their stubborn refusal until they pulled to a stop at the front of AGA. She froze for a moment when she saw the team bus was back in its spot on the corner of the parking lot, the morning's competition still clear in her memory.

"So I guess I'll see you guys later?"

"Huh?" Katniss looked from Finnick to Peeta, who was gathering his things and opening the door again. He swiveled around once he got out of the car and leaned his hand on the doorframe, bending down to look at her with a strange little flash of apology in his eyes.

"I have to go in to therapy today. Our original plan was to follow you guys back to the gym and then come here for my appointment and say hi to you after. Two birds, one stone, you know?" The corner of his mouth twitched up as he shrugged, looking at her like he was asking her permission. She nodded, because that made sense, except for the part where they made the effort to drive an hour out of their way to see her perform, and slid out of the car and back into the seething mid-afternoon heat. Finnick sped off, honking his goodbye at them from the edge of the parking lot, and Katniss was left with Peeta at her side, gym bag slung across his shoulders like always. She followed him up the handicapped ramp as he made his way to the door, enjoying the comfort of being next to someone who actually liked her.

"I really do want to pay you guys back for today," Katniss slowed her pace as the automatic doors to the lobby swished open in front of them, drawing out her last moments of peace for as long as she could.

"Katniss, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me," she replied, a trace of desperation seeping into the end of her statement. "I'm not — I don't know anyone besides my family who would have done what you both did for me this morning. I don't know how to repay something like that."

"Exactly. You don't have to." Peeta grinned, and it felt like the sunshine again, with none of the unforgiving heat. He was teasing her a little, and Katniss couldn't help but light up in response. He was infectious like that. Peeta reached out with one of his crutches and nudged the edge of her foot. "You stay tough out there, Katniss. They can't take who you are away if you don't let them." He moved himself toward the doors to the therapy center, leaving her alone.

She squared her shoulders and stared at the stairwell that led up to Haymitch's office, trying to push Peeta's comment out of her head. It felt almost exactly like it had the last time she'd had a reason to go up and give him a little visit, except it was definitely possible she was dreading this one far more than the last. She didn't want to wait until he found her, that was for sure, but she had no idea how he'd spent the rest of his morning after she'd told him the truth. Maybe he'd gone off and told the rest of the gymnastics world about her well-kept secret. Maybe the team made up more rumors that would follow her around. None of the options she could think of were good.

Haymitch wasn't even in his office when she got up there and pushed his door open, and every minute she spent waiting for him was another awkward minute of silence and pacing around his bookshelves, looking at everything and nothing at once. He'd kept his medals encased in little plastic boxes that looked like they hadn't been opened since he was her age, which didn't surprise her at all. They lined the edges of his upper shelves and made room in the center for a small picture frame. It was considerably less dusty than everything else on the shelf, which actually was a surprise. She found him standing among some other people instantly, looking younger and less uptight than he did now. He was even wearing shoes. Katniss grinned to herself, wondering who the other people in the photo were.

"I see someone's gotten over this morning," Haymitch deadpanned from the door way. _Damn him and his silent, bare feet_. Katniss jumped involuntarily, her heart stuttering and dropping into her stomach in a free fall. Her hand froze where it hovered in front of the picture frame and she turned on the spot. He looked calm, intimidatingly so, and she found herself toeing backward into the corner of the shelf.

"I came back," she said lamely, unable to go another second under his gaze without saying something. He surprised her by moving over to sit on his desk before he answered.

"Let's skip the part where I ask why you came back after this morning. You're here now, and between you and me, sweetheart, I don't wanna hear a recap." Haymitch crossed his arms and stared hard at the photo resting just behind her left shoulder, like he was trying to avoid looking at her, too. A long, slow exhale fall out of his mouth, and when he looked up at her he suddenly looked ten years older than before.

"I paid off the rest of your restitution debt this morning when we got back."

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him, sure this was some kind of sick, cruel joke. He already knew the worst of her, and he couldn't help but pour a little more salt in her wounds before he kicked her out and sent her packing to jail. That had to be what he was doing, it had to be the reason for the look on his face because there was no way he would have ever —

"I'm not lying, Katniss." He pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and held it out for her to take. She snatched it out of his hands immediately, scanning the lines of it for the truth. It was an email he'd printed out, the timestamp on the top corner letting her know it had been printed barely ten minutes ago.

_"Dear Mr. Abernathy:_

_I am writing to you to confirm that we have received your payment of $15,750 as of 9:03 this morning. Katniss Everdeen is now free of the charges placed on her earlier this summer. Ms. Everdeen is cleared to continue training at your gym for the duration of her choosing, or to pursue other avenues. Thank you for your earlier message, and please let Ms. Everdeen know that we wish her all the best._

_Sincerely,_

_Judge Seneca P. Crane"_

Katniss didn't realize she was crying until her tears hit the bottom of the page. Haymitch gently pulled the paper from her hands and placed it behind him on the desk.

"Why?" Katniss breathed, still trying to understand the sheer weight of what he had done.

"Because I misjudged you," he replied, standing again and walking up to where she stood. "We're more similar than you might believe, you and I, whether you like the idea of that or not...we take a whole lot of responsibility for things we can't ever change."

He was looking at the picture frame again, and Katniss suddenly found herself wondering what Haymitch had lost.

"I'm not gonna keep you here any longer if you want to leave, Katniss, but I am gonna be honest with you. You're one of the most reckless, driven, frustratingly stubborn gymnasts I've ever coached. Hell, you're one of the most stubborn people I've ever met, period, but you have natural talent. You've got something in you people can't look away from, and that means something. I think if you wanted to, you could go out there and change things for yourself."

"And what if I don't want to?" Katniss challenged.

Haymitch stared at her, almost straight through her with his hard, grey eyes. "I've watched you training this month. I think you already know the answer to that."

Katniss crossed her arms around herself, not yet sure if she could take the challenge he was laying out in front of her. He stepped away from the desk and turned, walking out of his own door and leaving her alone in his office to decide for herself.

"You would have placed second overall, by the way," he called from down the hall. "Congratulations."


	7. Two-Man Advantage

The smell of wet asphalt hit Katniss' nose before she was even fully awake, creeping up onto her skin and over the strands of hair that had snuck out of her braid during the night. One of her hands had fallen asleep where it was tucked under her head, feeling heavy and hesitant to bend even as she flexed her fingers apart. Numbness turned to buzzing and she groaned, finally pulling her head away from her pillow and pushing her sheets down to the foot of the bed. It had been easy getting used to sleeping with the window open at night, since Haymitch apparently couldn't be bothered to get air conditioning installed in the girls' dormitories. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and reached the other down, swiping her fingers through the droplets on the window ledge and tracing the trails they left behind. It meant she would be going for a run in the rain, she realized, something she hadn't done since she was back home in the woods.

The idea of a workout in this weather seemed perfect —it was getting ready for the rest of the day that would be difficult. She could feel heaviness beneath her eyelids as she climbed down the bunk, a surefire sign that at least some of the ugly evidence of yesterday's breakdown was still present. On the plus side, she thought, it wasn't like anyone was going to ask her what had happened. The likelihood of anyone approaching her today was practically zero, and that was exactly what she needed if she was really going to try again.

The AGA parking lot was already more than half-full as Katniss jogged up the soggy hill and toward the winding drive that led back toward the highway. It wasn't much of a surprise, considering the area. One glance at the football stickers she saw on the back of the oversized, mother-of-an-athlete SUVs told her the season was well underway. She wrinkled her nose with amusement as she put the place behind her, keeping thoughts of sweaty teenagers and their aerosol-coated mothers far from her thoughts.

The rain began to pick up as soon as she was halfway through her usual loop. The hair still tucked into her braid bounced heavy and soaking wet between her shoulders, more of it falling out of its tie with every step she took. It plastered to the skin around her shoulders like the wet leaves pooling in the swampy roadside ditches she passed. Again, she remembered taking quiet morning runs through the pine-needle trails in the woods back home, the main difference being that there never any cars blaring their horns at her back there. That was the whole point of getting up early — it was supposed to mean there were less people on the road to honk and stare at her as she ran by. Normally, drivers stuck to short warning bursts to let her know they were coming. Apparently, she'd done something particularly offensive this morning, because one particular car was honking relentlessly as it approached, like the driver's hand was glued to the horn.

Katniss slowed her pace and swung to the right to give them room to pass, even though she'd been running on the shoulder to begin with. The beeping continued, and she found herself jogging adjacent to the car's bumper — a car she recognized. A familiar blue sedan with an even more familiar driver was currently coasting leisurely at her side and forcing the cars behind him to turn into the oncoming lane and go around.

"Katniss Everdeen!" He exclaimed with mock surprise, leaning his entire body toward the window and tossing an arm around the passenger seat, which was occupied by Peeta. "You look…uh, completely soaked."

She sped up just to make him drive a little faster and snuck another peek their way. Finnick was practically begging for her to take the bait, but she cared more about the bewildered look on Peeta's face. She winced to herself, wondering just how miserable she looked, and rolled her shoulders back, halfheartedly hoping that it would stop her from looking like a cat left out in the rain. Finnick never seemed to travel without Peeta at his side, and the two of them had seen her looking far worse for wear than she usually ever allowed. It wasn't fair, not when they always seemed so carefree.

"Can't imagine why," she deadpanned, turning her eyes back to the road. "Are you two stalking me?"

"Not today," Finnick teased. "We have preseason training to get to."

"I don't remember Haymitch installing an ice rink in the gym."

"We're supposed to be running outside for personal workouts today, but now this is happening," Peeta clarified, sticking his hand out the window to catch the raindrops. "In Finnick's mind that means we go get PT work done instead."

"Oh, like you're complaining."

Katniss surged forward again as another car's horn started beeping in the distance. Thankfully, Finnick decided to take the hint. He sped away down the road, promising to see her when she got back to the gym by honking a few more times.

Finding him took absolutely no effort once she got home, completely drenched from the rest of the run home. Finnick was leaning over the top of Effie's desk, absentmindedly poking through her jar of pens and smiling dazzlingly in the poor woman's direction. From what she could see, Effie was blushing slightly under the layer of hot pink blush on her cheeks, trying her best to shoo him away as soon as she saw Katniss coming. Effie's nose wrinkled in disapproval at the stream of water coming off her, but the brightly colored woman turned back to her computer without a word.

"Don't give me that look," Finnick rolled his eyes and followed her through the lobby to the automatic doors, a blend of sweat and chalk hitting their noses as soon as they opened. "I was being cordial. Effie happens to like it when people compliment her outfits."

Katniss knelt down to remove her shoes, brushing a wet lock of hair behind her ear as she unlaced the first one and tossed it into the corner. "A hockey player and a fashion guru? I had no idea you were so well-rounded."

He sucked in a breath to respond, but a sharp voice cut in before he could voice his reply.

"Well, would you look at what dragged the cat in."

A pair of long, shiny legs stood right in front of her, one foot bouncing against the floor of the gym and the other firmly planted ankle to toe. The legs ended where a crimson, rhinestone-studded leotard began, leading up to a pair of muscular, crossed arms and an upturned chin. Johanna wore a smile on her face, but her eyes were roving between Katniss and Finnick like she was expecting an attack.

She stood up awkwardly, more aware now than ever of the way her hair was messily plastered to the side of her neck. Johanna's was in the shortest braid she'd ever seen, just barely jutting out at the base of her neck. Katniss counted at least eight bobby pins holding it in place, and she knew there had to be more hidden up there somewhere.

"He's not supposed to wear shoes inside the gym," Johanna continued, clearly unsettled with the lack of response she was receiving.

Finnick looked down at his feet and then back up at her with a self-assured smile. "I'm not inside the gym," he countered, waving a hand toward the floor. He happened to be standing right on the threshold between the lobby and the gym, and he looked absolutely delighted about it. "But if you wanted me a little closer…"

Johanna drew her head back and snorted. "Aren't I a little younger than your usual type?" Katniss thought she saw a gleam in her eye, even as she regarded the both of them with her usual blend of amusement disdain. Her arms had unfolded, for one thing, and her hand was now splayed along her hip, fingers drumming against the edge of her leotard. It had certainly been a while since Katniss spent any amount of time around her, but that kind of body language only meant so many things where Johanna was concerned.

"Not necessarily — I just enjoy a challenge," Finnick purred, sliding his arm up the side of the door.

Johanna's eyes widened. She ran off to the bars without another word to either of them, casting plenty of glances back at him while she put her wrist guards on and chalked them up. Katniss had to keep herself from laughing at the scene in front of her. The chuckle died in her throat the moment she saw that Finnick actually lingering to watch her start on the bar, head turned to the side and arms folded as he leaned against the side of the automatic door.

"You're getting drool on the carpet, Odair."

"I am not," Finnick replied breezily, without missing a beat.

"Didn't you say you're supposed to be getting something done today?" She prompted, glancing over at the therapy center pointedly. He ran a hand across his face, rolled his shoulder a couple of times and sighed deeply, apparently less thrilled with his original plan now that it was really happening. She couldn't blame him; half of the trainers Haymitch employed looked more like championship fighters than therapists.

"You're just going to throw me to the wolves like that, Everdeen? How do you sleep at night?"

"Like a baby." She shoved him closer to the therapy center and paused as they both caught sight of Peeta, who had already checked himself in. His palm was pressed flat against one of the therapy benches, every muscle in his upper body straining to keep his full weight off his injured ankle. Katniss could see the evidence of it in his arms where his veins rose up under his skin and in the tight clench of his shoulders. His other foot was raised off the ground behind him, and his jaw was clenched tight. She winced as he tried to lift his foot off the ground even higher, hoping the look on his face meant concentration instead of pain. Peeta's clear blue eyes came up and settled right on hers, and Katniss found herself unable to immediately look away. The corner of his mouth tilted up reassuringly, as if she was the one who needed it, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to deflate a bit. He turned to listen to his trainer, a younger, quieter woman with short hair and a shorter vocabulary. She helped him to sit up on the bench and gestured for him to raise his entire leg up as high as he could bend it.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Katniss looked back at Finnick, who was making a show of filling his water up at the fountain to stall for time.

"If he survives the rest of these appointments, maybe," he deadpanned, swallowing a mouthful of water before screwing the cap back on the green Gatorade bottle.

Katniss snorted and looked back again, watching Peeta's leg muscles flex and contract as he rolled his ankle in the air. She saw his eyes tighten up again, but the rest of him looked okay. "I know you told me he hurt it in practice, but I never heard about anything else."

Finnick's eyes trailed over to watch as the therapist guided Peeta to a metal chair and showed him how to tie one end of an elastic exercise band to the leg of a nearby bench. She looped the other end around the ball of his foot and stepped back as he stretched it away from the table in slow, repetitive movements. Finnick inhaled deeply and shifted to face her, angling his body away from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the therapy center.

"There are three alternate captains on our team: me, Mellark and that Clemmons guy we told you about. He came on a season after us, but he's actually pretty good. People forget who our actual captain is half the time, and he doesn't really do much to discourage them." Katniss recalled the photo she'd seen on the wall of the ice rink. Cato Clemmons had been one of the taller players in the team photo, blond hair sweeping across his forehead that made him look like he'd gotten a hair transplant from a Ken doll. "One of the things we do as alternates is learn everything the actual captain does."

"What's an alternate captain supposed to be doing when he's in a game?"

"We watch the ice in case a bad call gets made, talk to refs about said bad calls, maybe interpret for Coach if someone's not getting the message — incredibly fascinating stuff, I know," he smirked as he caught Katniss watching Peeta again. His face fell as he followed her eyes down to his injured leg. Finnick leaned his elbows up on part of the window frame, dipped his head down and started to scuff the edge of his shoe against a chip in the floor tile.

"Let me just preface this by saying that he's probably the most humble, cool-headed athlete in Texas — besides yours truly of course — and he really doesn't get worked up over a lot. I'm not saying he won't rough a guy up if the situation calls for it, but it never really gets personal for him. He's that idiot you see coming up to guys on the other team after a fight and tugging them up off the ground," he continued affectionately. "Peeta's all about team morale, so when any of our guys mouths off or does something that'd make you want to shove them out of your face, he usually just lets it slide. Usually that's all it is, too, a bunch of shit-talking and adrenaline leftover from a practice scrimmage or whatever. Ninety-nine percent of the time, there's no drama to deal with."

He seemed like he was still stalling for time, like he wasn't sure he was supposed to be telling her all of this.

"So what about the other one percent?"

Finnick shrugged and the corner of his mouth twitched up. He took another sip of water before heading for the therapy center's tiny lobby area. "That's a story you'd be better off hearing from him," he said, walking backwards through the sliding doors. "I doubt he'd mind telling you about it if you asked."

She watched for a minute as Finnick flung himself on to the bench closest to Peeta and smacked him lightly on the shoulder, a move that even she could tell was meant to be encouraging without being overt. Peeta turned his head and said something she couldn't hear, but nodded her way with a curious look on his face. Finnick nodded and raised his eyebrow up in a way that made her wish she wasn't still standing there where they could see her. She turned and paced toward the main entrance without acknowledging either of them, intent on changing into a set of clean clothes and shaking a set of very blue eyes from her mind.

* * *

><p>Two strong pairs of arms encircled her the moment she stepped into the dormitory common room. A small noise of surprise caught in Katniss' throat as Madge and Rue encircled her, muttering apologies and explanations, clutching at her shoulders and looking her right in the eyes to make sure she was okay with the sudden closeness.<p>

"Oh, Katniss, we're so sorry," Rue moaned, her entire face scrunching up in contrition. "Johanna made it seem like you wanted to — and then we were just — and those _judges — _can you forgive us?"

She nodded firmly and brushed her braid back away from her face, her hand caught near her chin as they enveloped her in another hug. They sat and stretched out on the edge of the floor, filling her in on the rest of the invitational and thankfully choosing to skim over the part when she'd run out and left them to compete. Madge barely stumbled over her words as she analyzed the scores, and Katniss was fine with pretending she didn't notice her glance up to check and see how she was reacting to the entire thing. Sitting in a full split on the floor in a triangle with the two of them felt like the most normal thing she'd done in ages. She was wearing a leotard voluntarily, for starters, gaudy gold stripes flashing across her waist serving as just another testament to the changes she was trying to make.

They spent the rest of the day exactly like that, not-quite pretending she'd never walked out on them in the first place and cutting her off every time she tried to apologize for it. It was funny, really, how the both of them reminded her of her little sister. Madge was all Prim in appearance — the wispy white-blonde hair that tried to escape every clip that held it back, the intelligent eyes and high, reedy voice that made her seem younger than she really was. Her nose was longer and straighter than Prim's, and her eyes were a little greener, but Katniss suspected if you put them next to each other, they could pass as family.

Rue, on the other hand, was all Prim in personality, if not a little more excitable. The more Katniss watched her flitting between the uneven bars, the more she was reminded of a little hummingbird. Sometimes it was the way she asked Katniss for tips on getting her rotations tighter and spoke so quickly that she had to repeat herself. Other times, it was the way she could barely stay on the dismount mat long enough to stick a landing before running back to them and asking how it looked. Images of Prim twirling around in their small kitchen with a crown of dandelions on her head came to mind almost immediately.

"So, Katniss," Rue asked, leaning her head on her folded arms against the beam she was practicing on, "The hockey guy you keep hanging out with — what's that about?"

"Finnick? He's like, a walking innuendo. I'm pretty sure he's not interested."

"Not him," Rue argued, lifting her head off the beam and nodding it toward the therapy center. "The other one."

She paused, her arms held out in front of her mid-routine and looked down at the two of them. Madge was leaning up against another beam, pretending to pick at her nails but very obviously interested in whatever answer she was going to give them. Rue wasn't even trying to be subtle as she waited for Katniss to react, a knowing smile drawing attention to the freckles on her cheeks.

Katniss shook her head and twisted her body into a slow back walkover, making sure to pull her legs as high over her head as they would go. Her eyes were carefully focused on the sponsor banners in front of her as she answered the two of them.

"They're just friends of mine. It's not - I don't think it's _something."_

They exchanged a look, something Katniss only saw out of the corner of her eye as she twisted in the air again. "Just friends who drive an hour to cheer you on at your first meet? Madge, how many 'just friends' like that do you have?"

"I was homeschooled," she answered, grimacing and picking at a rip on the inside of her thumb.

"Okay well regardless, boys don't just show up to watch gymnastics meets on without being invited. Not just because."

Katniss considered her words as she dismounted, watching rain continue to stream down the windows. She shook her head. Just because he and Peeta had probably been the only people there not related to a gymnast competing or working the event didn't mean their visit meant anything. How could it?

"What makes you so sure?" She asked, turning to watch as Rue swung herself up onto the beam and straightened up like a flower greeting the sun, grinning like she'd heard exactly what she wanted to hear. Rue didn't hesitate to act as she responded, answering Katniss between back tucks and handstands and split jumps.

"It's kind of obvious."

"Why do you think Finnick spends so much time getting to know you?" Madge piped up. "He's researching."

"Oh yeah? Explain that then," Katniss pointed at the wall near the entrance to the lobby. Finnick stood with his arms crossed and a wild smile on his face, eyes glued to Johanna on the floor as she trained her quad full with Haymitch. She was having a hard time of it, only making three rotations in the air before landing on almost every try, and Katniss couldn't decide if he looked more intimidated or impressed with her. He wasn't wearing the self-assured, leisurely expression he usually had on when he was talking up the women in the gym, and he kept turning his eyes away the minute Johanna's head would turn in his direction, pretending to be doing something else in case she looked his way. She carried on without seeming to notice his attention at all. Katniss felt sure she'd be able to feel someone looking at her like that.

She waited until Haymitch looked her way, his brow raised and questioning why she was standing around instead of practicing. She flicked her eyes over to Finnick and then to Johanna and raised her own eyebrows up, waiting until he got the message. Haymitch rolled his and shook his head, mirroring her thoughts exactly.

"I didn't say it was a full-time job," Rue muttered, following Finnick's line of sight and giggling. "He's gonna get himself in so much trouble."

Finally, a subject she knew something about. Grabbing her empty water bottle off the ground, she straightened up and threw an amused look back to the girls at the beams. "I think he knows."

Katniss walked up to the fountain and shoved the wide mouth of the bottle underneath the spigot, leaning her hip up against the button on the side to start the water flowing and tapping the cold metal basin with her free hand, looking around the gym while the water ran and cooled down. Haymitch had taken a break in spotting Johanna to go and crank the windows open, manually pulling at a set of chains until the top half of the window opened in. The cool smell of rain hit the gym immediately and collective sighs of joy echoed throughout the building, girls breaking from their workouts to go run up and stick their arms out into the downpour. It looked gloomier than it had for days, but the gym felt anything but.

Katniss watched Haymitch's shoulders pumping up and down as he tugged on the heavy chain and forced the window open. He stopped halfway through to adjust up his sleeves, exposing an angry scar on his arm that she'd never seen before. It stood out stark-white against his tawny skin, curling across his arm like the jagged crest of a wave. Katniss frowned, trying to catch a better glimpse of it without stepping any closer. He shifted away as soon as she tried, forcing the last part of the window open and letting his arms drop down to his sides.

She couldn't help but think back to what he'd said before, when she'd gone to his office and he'd told her they had more in common than she thought. He had been talking about loss, and the angry mark on his arm spoke volumes more than he had himself. Unconsciously, her fingers skimmed the same spot on her own arm, wondering what could have torn so deep into him, whether it had been something that happened while he was in competition. She tried thinking back to her own early years of training, searching for even a memory of the name Haymitch Abernathy that reached farther than her month at his gym. She felt someone standing behind her and turned, ready with an apology for running the water so long, but it was only Peeta standing there, leaning on one crutch and tightening his bag with the other. Everything in his body language said he'd been trying not to startle her.

"Kind of sad, isn't he?"

She turned and looked back, watching as Haymitch shooed the younger gymnasts away from the window. How did he know? "Haymitch?"

"Oh, no," he laughed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and pointing over at his distracted friend. "Mr. Tall, Dark and Hopeless."

"Oh." Katniss smiled wryly in agreement, rolling her eyes theatrically for his benefit. "It's gonna come in handy that he's used to getting his teeth knocked out."

Peeta looked at her a little wide-eyed, his smile growing by the second. Katniss hoped all of his teeth were real. She tore her eyes away from his mouth and focused her attention to her own hands screwing the top onto her water bottle instead. It didn't do her much good, since her eyes were back on his in a second.

"So I get the boot off next weak-ish," he held his leg out between them, turning it from side to side and regarding it like he was out shoe shopping. "And as long as nothing happens between now and then, Portia says I'll be cleared to skate."

One of his hands was drumming against the side of his crutch and the other was readjusting on the grip. He looked nervous, like he'd received bad news instead of what was obviously good . The way he'd said it sounded like most people did when they found out they would have to get a boot put on their foot, not the other way around.

"You don't sound as thrilled as you seem like you'd be,"

"The minute this thing comes off my leg, the team's going to be expecting me at my a-game. I don't know if I can deliver," he explained with more of that self-deprecating tone in his voice. It was the first time he wasn't being totally real with her, for some reason, and she was surprised at how much she didn't like it. If he'd really been as hurt as Rue and Finnick kept hinting at, and he'd been working through it in therapy with such good progress, there was no way he couldn't get himself back out on the ice. She didn't understand how he was missing all of that himself.

Katniss opened her mouth, trying to find something to say that was as encouraging as he usually was and coming up painfully short. Surprisingly, his smile — the real one she preferred — dawned on his face, even though she hadn't said a word yet.

"What?"

"It's just, you get this look," he grinned, shrugging his shoulders, "you looked like you were going to yell at me for something."

"I wasn't," she responded awkwardly, more than willing to bet that's exactly how she'd looked. She'd always been terrible at hiding emotions. She turned again, ready to chalk up their whole conversation as proof Madge and Rue had been wrong.

"Katniss, wait — about what you said a while ago," Peeta spoke up quickly, moving half a step forward on his crutches and reaching out to keep her where she was. "We have a scrimmage coming up, and I don't know if you're gonna be free…"

A frantic voice in her mind told her to make up an excuse, to take the out he was trying to give her before it could come back and bite her in the ass, but another part of her wanted to see his face light up again, to make him understand that he was meant to be more than just a benchwarmer on the team he loved. He had to see what he was capable of, even though she had never seen it for herself.

"I'll go," she breathed, trying to ignore the feel of what she knew was Madge and Rue staring at her from their places on the equipment and the hammering in her chest. "Of course I'll go."


End file.
