Peeta Mellark watched with what he couldn't decide was amusement or lament (perhaps it was a combination of the two) Miss Beryl Hawthorne fidgeting besides her father as he talked to Dill at the front counter. There was no mistaking the way she seemed to be looking everywhere except at his son and how, when Dill directed a comment at her, she blushed slightly. The irony of the situation was not lost on him.
"Anything I can help you with, Mr. Hawthorne?" Peeta walked into the front of the bakery.
"We just came for a cake," Gale said and placed a hand on his daughters shoulder, "Her eleventh is tomorrow."
"I'd be happy to make one for you," the baker offered.
Gale shook his head, "No, we can't afford––"
"Nonsense!" Peeta chuckled, "As a friend of my sons, we can't let Beryl have anything less than a custom Mellark cake."
"Beryl and I aren't friends," Dill muttered.
Peeta noticed the young girl seemed to wilt a bit at his comment (and gained a dangerous spark in her grey eyes while her fist clenched) and inwardly grimaced. He put his arm around the taller mans shoulders and guided him into the back room where he would plan out cakes and other delicacies with his customers.
Gale was reluctant at first, but sighed and turned his head towards his daughter. "Run across the street and get the flowers from the florist," he called.
"Go with her Dill," Peeta ordered.
"What about the store!"
"I said 'go' Dill, Mari can mind the front while you're gone."
"What! I just stopped by to get my jacket," Mari cried, she had entered the bakery a mere few seconds before.
Peeta gave both of his children his best 'just-do-what-I-say-and-don't-complain' look. Dill hopped off his stool, he stuck his tongue out at a groaning Mari as he left the store behind Beryl.
Mari took her place behind the front desk and crossed her arms. "Dad better have a good reason for sending Dill with Lover-girl," she muttered.
author's note: I originally made this chapter from Beryl's point of view, but my sister suggested using Peeta's instead and I liked it better. c;
Sorry these installments have been so short! They're more like snapshots of the story life than an actual story.