A Dangerous Game (A Hunger Games Fan Fiction)

7. Stressing Out

7. Stressing Out

       I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t toss and turn, because it’d wake Peeta up, and I didn’t want to do that to him. I just had to bear being restless in silence in his embrace. Peeta would definitely not like my mood tomorrow if I didn’t get any sleep soon.

            Peeta was sleeping soundly as usual compared to me. I really wanted to do that right now, be in a sound sleep. Since I couldn’t keep my eyes shut, I just watched him sleep the night away while I agonizingly, slowly, became more sleep deprived.

I felt bad for Peeta. He was totally unaware of what was really going on. He didn’t know that Katniss was at the Capitol, held captive. He didn’t know I was pretending to be Katniss, nor did he know Gale was forming up a plan good enough to get Katniss free and bring her back here before he would notice that I wasn’t her.

            My perfect chance to sneak out of bed was when Peeta turned over on his other side. Stealthily, I slipped out of the sheets and tiptoed out to the door. I didn’t hear any tapping, so either Gale wasn’t outside yet, or he was and he was just waiting for me to come out. Regardless, he had better be out there; otherwise I was going to go back to bed and hopefully sleep.

            The night wasn’t as warm as last night, but it was considerably tolerable to where a jacket wasn’t needed.

            “Gale?” I whispered in the dark. This time I didn’t flinch when I felt Gale grab my arm to make sure it was me.

            “There you are,” he breathed. He flicked a flashlight on, blinding me a bit. “I thought I was going to have to resort to tapping on the window again.”

            “Luckily you didn’t have to. What do you have to report to me now?”

            “Still some ideas, no definite plan yet,” he said gravely.

            “And the family?”

            “I told them exactly what you told me last night: that you probably escaped and you’re running around Twelve, most likely ill, lost, and confused.”

            “I thought I only said ill, not lost and confused?”

            “You never said ill, only tired and confused,” Gale recalled. “Anyway, how’s the life in luxury?”

            “It’s not all fun and games.”

            “Why? What happened today?”

            “Where do I start?” I leaned against the house. “I first made breakfast, which I accidentally made Peeta ill with a stomach ache. He’s better now. Gale…I hate this.”

            “Hate what?”

            “Living her life!” I moaned. “This isn’t good for me or Peeta!”

            “Katrina, it is.” He grabbed my shoulders gently.

            “No, it’s not. I’m lying to him, Gale! This isn’t who I am. I’ve never pulled a big lie like this in my life, and you know that! I’m freaking out here!”

            “Shh,” he said quietly. “Easy, just settle down.”

            “I’m losing it! Peeta’s starting to notice the change in me, but I don’t think he suspects, not yet anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow he figures out I’m not who I say I am!” My voice rose.