Broken Winged Birds that Cannot Fly

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Gale would never have hurt me. He's an arrogant douchebag who doesn't know when to quit, but he isn't a rapist. He thinks he can tempt me back to his side, to become his girlfriend-legitimately this time-and resume my life of hatred and spite. His ignorance reaches impeccable levels and he would rather I came to him on my own that him have to force me into anything. But in that moment, I was so scared, I thought maybe I was wrong.

Peeta recovers quickly. The insertion of a pacemaker isn't exactly the most severe of surgeries and he's back in school by Wednesday. It's helping him greatly and when he came home on Tuesday night and I laid my head on his chest to fall asleep, I heard a regular heartbeat. No stutters, no pauses, no quickened pace or anything. Just a steady thump thump thump. I was so overjoyed I wept in his arms (which, to be honest, was probably an effect of my hormones too).

I thought I would have gotten stick being in school for that one day without Peeta there but thankfully Clove was back (after a bout of flu) and made sure everyone kept a distance. When Peeta returns, however, there's one less classmate. As if one came back and someone else left.

"Where did Cashmere go?" I ask Wednesday morning when we're on our break.

Clove shrugs, picking at Peeta's hair at the picnic table and trying to arrange it into a stylish manner. "Rumour has it that she ran away with some guy," she replies. "A sugar daddy from Skype or something . . ."

I blow a raspberry. I'm not sure how to respond to that. I look to Peeta, who just batted Clove's hand away from trying to comb his hair back with some gel she found in her bag. "It might just be a rumour," he says. "I wouldn't trust the grapevine."

"I don't know, it fits Cashmere's personality perfectly," says Clove.

"Some would argue the rumour about you fancying Cato fit you perfectly too," I remind her.

Clove glowers at me. "Watch it Everdeen," she says.

I hold my hands up. "It doesn't matter if they thought you did," I tell her. "I mean . . . a crush is a crush. Whether you like it or not, people are going to think things. Most of these things probably not being entirely true, or pleasant, or desirable. Have you heard some of the rumours about Peeta and I? I mean, it's not exactly a bed of roses for anyone . . ."

"What rumours?" Peeta frowns.

I bit my lip, having forgotten that Peeta didn't know about what had been spread around about us. I try to come up with some fake rumours on the spot, something that isn't as bad as the truth. But lying has never been my thing. Surely he'd see through me. Shit, what do I say? I stare at him and he stares at me, patiently waiting for my answer.

"That Katniss blows you in Janitors' closets and you buck behind the bleachers," Clove says. Her eyes widen with confusion when I glare at her.

"What?" Peeta frowns. He lifts his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

I shrug sheepishly. "I dunno," I mumble.

"Don't lie to me, Katniss," Peeta says. "Is it true?"

I sigh and nod. "Yes, it's true."

Peeta huffs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Okay, sure," he says. "Just fantastic."

I reach across the picnic table and take his hands in mine. "Don't let them think what they want," I say. "As we've said, they're going to think whatever they want no matter what anyone says to them. We just have to let them get on with it."

"That's just . . . wow," Peeta mutters. He looks at me and frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it," I tell him. I glance at Clove, not sure whether this is the sort of conversation a person should have with her boyfriend in front of her friends. "It's not exactly . . . an appropriate topic."