Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, story, or have any ownership of the Hunger Games

a/n: Alright, so we got our first outtake for lovefool! All of these will be in povs of characters other than Peeta. It was originally going to just be Katniss povs, but then Johanna swooped in and took the entire story over and so here we are. I so far have two Katniss outtakes planned as well and will do more, but I'm always up for taking suggestions.
Thanks to everyone's feedback on the story –– I'm sorry that I don't update often enough. If it was up to me every day I'd be writing and posting but alas things come up. I'm usually around on my tumblr if you need to talk/harass me about why's so you can check it out - info on my profile.

First one up: Johanna! This takes place about a month or so before Lovefool starts. People wanted to know why Johanna takes on Peeta's "case," and well, hopefully this'll bring some insight.


My head is pounding and I have Peeta Mellark to thank for it. I don't even know this brat, but apparently some girls in the younger years of my gym class know him –– or rather want to. Their whines are annoying and if I didn't have to take a piss I'd be walking out and changing into my regular clothes in the hallway because I'd much rather deal with the general public seeing me half naked than deal with these squeaking voices.

It's his last name that catches my ear. I know his brother, I guess you can say. He was the first person I met in the school district when I moved in during middle school. I was the first person to ever give him a black eye, I believe. It was a nice trade–off. Needless to say, we don't get along still. I never heard of any other Mellark Brothers, only of the bakery that I've never stepped foot in on the other side of town that bears the same name. The thought of other humans walking around with the same genetic make up of the prick leaves me scowling in the stall and I listen more to what they have to say.

"––he was so sweet and dinner was so good, y'know? A real gentleman and he paid and everything. But he didn't hold my hand, and didn't kiss me afterwards. I got a handshake. I don't even know if it was a date..."

"I know what you mean. Like, last year? You know, before he got that like, cane and then that limp. I went out with him for dinner, and was hoping to have him for dessert. He bowed to me at the end."

I chuckle to myself but as I look I see some bathroom stall graffiti. It's sort of the gossip column of the world of this school, and I find it deliciously entertaining to see what these shit–for–brains like to entertain themselves with. My favorites are when my name ends up on the wall. I've written some myself to see a reaction (someone agreeing that I was a bitch), but one time someone wrote that all they wanted to do was slip their tongue on my nipples as they bumped their body into mine.

I responded asking them for a when and where, but sadly that didn't get its own response.

The man of the hour is on this shit–stained confessional though, I notice. He has his own little area, dedicated to a back and forth of different sexually frustrated girls that apparently just want to unleash their hormones on this boy.

I want my fists in Peeta Mellark's hair.

I want Peeta Mellark's body pinning me against a wall.

I want Peeta Mellark to pound into me hard and fast. Next to this someone wrote an arrow off of it with their own musing: I think he'd be more of one for a slow and loving.

Whoever the hell Peeta Mellark is, his dick must be made of gold. I think of what the girls were saying as I wash my hands in the sink. He bowed to them... apparently this boy didn't realize himself how much of a trophy dick he had on him. I don't know him but I'm confused already. These girls talking and writing on the stall are ready to worship every inch of his body. If he asked for a blowjob at his seat in a class it sounds like he wouldn't be denied. But these two that went on dates –– or at least just out to dinner –– with him? A handshake, a fucking bow? What the hell kind of kid is this?

Before leaving the bathroom I go back into the stall and take a sharpie out of my bag –– something I travel with on hand at all times for emergencies like this. I add to the Peeta Mellark area, aka my new most intriguing person in this school.

I fuck myself with my fingers just with the thought of Peeta Mellark's throbbing cock.

Give these amateurs something to think about.

At lunch I decide to do more research and ask for some primary sources. Gale I'm sure won't know a damn thing about the kid; he's lived here his entire life and cares less about knowing these people than I do. Katniss is completely oblivious to everyone outside of our bubble and I know I won't get anything from her. She's gotten even more secluded since the accident, which is understandable but every now and then I wonder when she will heal. I try not to let her know how much I worry for her, her and her little sister, but I do.

Madge is my best bet, I know. She's quiet but still is a town girl, and I know that she talks to people besides just us.

"Tell me about Peeta Mellark," I say after we're all seated and settled in and the three of them look up at me with different expressions. Gale's eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, not understanding where any of this is coming from. That's nothing new though; I like to keep him (all of them, everyone, really) on their toes. Madge is looking at me curiously as she chews with a slight frown on, but it seems more like she's just trying to puzzle out a why rather than a frown meaning upset. Katniss' eyes are wide and she even stopped eating her food for a second, only to resume and try to look back down when she noticed I noticed.


"He's in mine and Katniss' grade," Madge responds. "Youngest of the three Mellark's. Family owns the bakery in town. Um, in my art class?" She continues. She twirls the spaghetti that consists of her lunch and fiddles absently with the thermos that holds her hot water and steeping tea that she has to have with lunch. "What do you want to know about him?"

"And why?" Gale asks, still confused. He's went back to eating his sandwich though. He looks like he's trying to figure me out, a look I've seen on him many times and it makes me want to laugh aloud. Oh Gale, you of all people will never figure me out.

"He used to do a couple different sports." It's Katniss that says this. She's still looking down at her food and eating and the three of us stare at her not hiding our surprise and slack opened jaws. "Wrestling. Some others." She adds. Now I cock my eyebrow. She knew specifics with this kid. "He stopped after the –– fire in the bakery...last year."

Things start to click in me. I remember back when the fire happened in the bakery that there was talk of someone being stuck in there. Half the rumors blew up into the fact that whoever was in there died, that several people did. Add that to the fact that shortly after Katniss and her family had their own run–in with fire and I think it's understandable how I didn't piece two and two together or try to get down to the truth behind the bakery's fire and any could be truth in the rumors.

But Katniss took a notice in him. Apparently she's not as oblivious to everyone as I thought. It's more knowledge than she's ever shown us of anyone outside our little bubble, and it's a town boy at that. I cock my eyebrow at her and lean forward as she tries to look away again. "What else you know about the kid, Kitty?"

For someone as closed off as Katniss, she's incredibly easy to read. I watch as she throws her walls up, and I know that that's the end of this conversation about Peeta Mellark with her. Regardless of that, poking fun at her was too much to pass up. She takes a bite of her sandwich and eats it angrily in my direction, and I can see her imagining that it's my head she just bit off and is chewing with all the work she can put into that jaw of hers.

"Isn't that the kid that's hopelessly in love with you, Madge?" Gale asks, his mouth full of his own food.

This is dangerous territory he threw us in, and I know everyone at the table feels it as we're silent for a moment. I want to ask if Gale is just projecting his own actual feelings for her onto someone else but I don't for several reasons. Our deal works well for both of us in different ways, but also for the main fact that both of us fuck good and we know what we want and go for it. I'd take a hard dick pounding after a night of drinking over a guy drunkenly trying to lace his fingers through mine as he stares into my eyes or tries to plant kisses on my shoulder when he does me from behind. Of course it's not always that, every now and then you'll get a real good one, but it's up in the air. I know what I get with Gale, and it's a hell of a lot easier to not have to deal with trying to seem into a guy as I try to get in his pants. Gale's cockwork is good, and as long as he's supplying, I'll take it. But I also know that the deal between us works for him in different ways too. How he can then use the excuse of being buried in me for not pursuing after what he really wants.

We don't need to bring these unspoken truths out on the table.

Katniss still chews angrily but she stares at a speck on the table in front of her. Madge is red and uncomfortable. I know that there's more in all of this that I don't know and it makes me mad. How has all of this been brewing between us, or rather them, all this time, by some random townie boy that I didn't even realize existed truly? It seems like the entire school is all in a tizz about Peeta Mellark and I'm just finding out that he exists.

"Uh," Madge finally gets out. "I mean I wouldn't say hopelessly in love with––"

Gale rolls his eyes and cuts her off. "Didn't he not go to that Freshman Formal of yours because he was too heartbroken by your no?"

I think back and remember hearing some talk that I didn't pay attention to about some guy that wanted to go with Madge to that dance. I guess I always thought the several different instances of unrequited suitors for Madge was several guys instead of just one. Madge is borderline squirming in her seat under Gale's questioning. "Well I mean, he still had his cane then too it wasn't the only reason he didn't..."

I narrow my eyes at Madge as I watch because I know she's lying. I don't know what she's lying about or why, but she is. Whether she's trying to save his dignity or trying to hide some bigger lie, I don't know. But this idea of one guy fawning for her and her rejecting the advances 100% doesn't add up. Madge has gone on pity dates before, so it's not that at all. Her parents might be loaded and of high standards, but she never let that direct who she does or doesn't associate with (for example, just look at me). Madge has kissed boys, and one time I got her drunk enough to tell me about blowjob adventures that she's had –– which I was able to give her some pointers, mind you –– so it's not that she's trying to remain pure.

I'm missing something, and it boils down to Peeta Mellark. I focus the conversation back to that and away from Madge. I have questioning to do with her, but I'm not going to do it in front of Katniss and Gale. "Alright, so hopeless romantic baker boy that got caught in the bakery fire and needed a cane but he's completely fine. Point him out to me." I have a feeling I have a new person to observe and scrutinize, perhaps even corner and question ruthlessly.

Madge looks at me slightly thankful, which I know she is. She's happy to get off of the topic of Peeta Mellark's love in front of everyone, but she knows (or at least should know) that I'm not going to just drop this. She definitely knows; I'm not one to just drop something. "He's sitting on the other side of the room, at one of the rectangle tables with a bunch of other kids from Town in our grade." Madge flicks her head in a direction. "Over there."

I'm not surprised that they're at a large rectangle table, these golden Townies. The cafeteria is composed of several of these types of tables while the rest are smaller round tables that can seat anywhere from four to ten people if you try hard enough. We always snag a round table. The kids from Town usually try to go for the rectangle tables, since they have so many friends that they just have to be with for these forty–five minutes of lunch time. I look at the table that she directed her head at and see –– shockingly –– a sea of gold.

"Which is he? I'm blinded by the shine coming off their perfect blonde hair."

Madge just laughs and shakes her head. I make comments about Townies a good amount in front of her, and she never takes me seriously. I usually don't mean them completely seriously. Usually. "We usually just meet up after this for art. Hang around and try not to scare him off, would you?"

I smile. "I'm not guaranteeing anything."

The topic changes at the table and everyone seems to sit a little easier.

We part from Katniss and Gale as I follow her on her way to Peeta Mellark's locker. Thankfully I have my English class which isn't too far from the art room, having a perfect excuse with why I'm intruding on their walk to the Art room. Not that I feel the need to have an excuse.

"Hi Peeta," Madge calls to him when we get to his locker. He's pulling out a sketchbook and goes to shut his locker.

"Hey Madge," He says as he turns but stops short a bit when he sees me. "Hi––"

"Johanna Mason," I shove my hand out in front of me, giving a proper introduction to him and in between us.

He shakes my hand. "I know who you are," he mumbles.

I smirk at him. "And I know who you are, Peeta Mellark."

He looks at me confused, and I'm about to tell him about the bathroom stall graffiti that had his name all over it, but Madge must sense something on the tip of my tongue because she starts walking down the hall with a, "let's go, we don't want to be late."

I'm quiet as we walk, which isn't a usual thing. I'm watching Peeta Mellark and starting my understanding of who this person is that secretly has a hold on different people in my group. Gale said that he's hopelessly in love with Madge, but as I watch them, I see that it's a complete lie. I like to think of myself as having an ability on being able to pick up on sexual tension as if it's a superpower, and absolutely none exists between the two of them. They talk about an art project and there's ease. His eyes don't linger. His hands don't twitch with a need to touch her. He's not half–hard from being lost in a daydream about fucking her against a locker.

We're about to turn the corner into another hallway when we hear Madge's name called out from behind us. All of us stop and turn to see Katniss running after us. She refuses to look anywhere but directly at Madge. She takes a moment to catch a breath when she's in front of us, and then explains on how Madge took one of her school books by accident and she needs it for her next class. She refuses to look anywhere else but Madge still. I watch her and see tension in her. I look over at Peeta and he's looking at the ground, but every now and then sneaking a glance at Katniss and his cheeks have that stain of red that I was searching for before when it was him and Madge.

I definitely am onto something here.

Katniss and Madge talk quick and soon Katniss leaves with mumbled goodbyes. Madge looks over at me and I'm sure she knows the look on my face, how I have a smile because I'm starting to piece something, something together that is not supposed to be pieced together. All I need is a bit more time, or to just corner one of these fools about it and ask for the dirt.

I take in the form of Peeta Mellark. He's just about as tall as me and I know he still has some time to grow. Even though he apparently doesn't do sports anymore he fills out his shirt pretty well. His golden hair is curly and just long enough that I can totally get the want to have your fists in it like some person confessed in graffiti. He seems like a good piece of underage ass, but definitely not my type. He's way too shy and bumbling, something I definitely have no time for. But someone else comes to mind, another awkward–at–love/lust/relationships kind of person, and it's just the person that's made his cheeks red and no doubt probably has made him hard before in sleepless nights. Katniss Everdeen.

"That was a nice surprise," I say to the two of them as we begin to move again, and even I can hear the amusement in my voice.

Madge looks over at me and I can feel the words she is trying to convey to me, 'Not now, Johanna, no.' "Yes, seeing Katniss is always nice."

I disregard Madge's look. I can't not say something. "Wouldn't you agree Peeta?"

I look past Madge who is in between us to see his face and he's blushing again, just like a virginal bride. It's almost comical how panicked he looks, but he quickly trains his face and tries to calm down the blush. "Y–yes," he manages to get out. "Always, always nice."

"Well look at that, here's our art class. Bye Johanna we'll talk later," Madge said quickly furrowing her eyebrows at me.

I wave at them. "Yes, we'll talk later. Bye Madge. Bye Peeta, it was nice to know the face behind the name."

"Wha–?" Peeta starts to ask but Madge pulls him inside without another word. Damn, I really did want to see how red he'd get if I told him of the things I read on the bathroom stall.

I walk two more classes down to my English class and bite my lip to try to hide my grin.

I'm going to have to pay more attention to this Peeta Mellark.