My mother. Ugh, my mother… She's just told me I can't go to a party at Madge's house. Madge! What does Madge ever do wrong? She is not some scandalous teen who'd invite boys with beer and raging hormones to her house. It's just a few close friends. Besides, what authority does mom have when she's not here?

It's December. It's cold, sleet assaulting the windows, making it impossible to hear the TV. "Katniss!" Prim cries, shocking me. I jump off of the couch, padding into the kitchen.

"What did you do?" I gasp, seeing our hideous… well, I'll call it a cat for now, lapping up orange juice that's all over the floor, seeping under the fridge and even worse, on my socks. "Ew…" I breathe.

"I'm sorry," Prim, my one and only twelve year old sister mutters, clasping, twisting and twiddling her thumbs, giving me a small, unconfident smile.

"Did your fingers disintegrate when you tried to pick up the orange juice?" I hiss, taking off my socks and sneering as I try to get to Prim, stepping in the pulpy liquid. I pick up the fallen juice jug. "Go get some towels." I mutter, putting it in the sink whilst the doorbell chimes. "And the door!" I call after her as she scurries away. I shake my head and glare at Buttercup. That's the damn cat's name. So… original, isn't it? I smack him away as he tries to continue drinking it. I try to get him to come back when I realize it could be bad for him, but he's gone.

"Katniss, it's for you!" Prim yells. Such a little lady.

"Who is it, Prim?" I yell back, annoyed.


"Send her in!"

Moments later, Madge saunters in to the kitchen, looking down on me, her mouth formed into a perfect 'o'. I look to her. She's blonde, small and beautiful. She wears leather boots, black jeans and a heavy black coat. "What happened?" she asks, stressing the second word.

"The orange juice exploded. Are you mourning a loss, or something?" I mumble, nodding to her all-black attire. She looks down at herself, simultaneously stepping away from the mess on the ground.

"No," she snaps, "I was about to go out on a date." She grins sweetly, grabbing the ends of her long coat, twirling sweetly.

I smirk. "Oh, I see. Mourning the loss of your virginity." She gapes at me, and then tilts her head back and laughs.

"No. No orgasms of any kind on the first date." She chuckles. My eyes grow. She better pray Prim didn't hear that, since she now idles in the living room. Even though I pin her under my gaze, she still can't suppress her giggles.

I tug on the end of my sided French braid and ask, "So, who is he? ... Wait, Prim, where's the towel?!" I hear her feet against the wood floor once more, running to the closet down the hall.

"His name is Peeta. Oh god, Katniss, he's hot!" she gushes, getting so excited her cheeks grow red. I study her a moment. Wow… She's gussied up in her sky-high heels, glossed lips and tight jeans, giddy over a boy she thinks is cute. I'm standing in orange juice. Such a bachelorette.

She sees my lack of keeping attention, visually tensing and changing the subject. "So where's your mom?"

"She's off on business already, you know that." I say, narrowing my eyes. My mother does this often. Right now, she's off to Portland, showing big mansions off to big time people. She doesn't think I'll misbehave because honestly, she thinks I have no sexual drive. I kind of don't.

"Oh yeah…" she murmurs, giving me a wry smile.


"Well, I told Peeta to pick me up from here. I knew your mom wasn't here and my ma doesn't know I'm going on a date." She tells me.

"Really Madge?" I whine. She nods, happy with herself. I nod down to what I'm wearing. I know Madge, I know how she works. She's going to fuss with her makeup just when this guy decides to arrive.

"Katniss, you're beautiful, you always are. Just, answer the door when he comes. I'll be right back." She grins again; tap tap tapping away to the bathroom.

"Good grief…" I murmur, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. I hadn't realized Prim had tossed the towel onto the counter as Madge and I had talked. I take it and begin to clean. Was the "you're beautiful" romp necessary? She knows when she tells me those lies they go in one ear, out the other. I stand, wringing out the towel in the sink and start over again. Eventually, there's a knock on the door. Too cool to ring a bell, Hot Stuff?

So I stand and I walk, standard procedure, but what isn't is the feeling I get when I near the door. Strangely, I don't want to open it. I want to dramatically lock it and back away with shitty horror movie music blaring. Why? I shake my head, grabbing the knob reluctantly. I twist and pull, agonizingly slow. I lift my eyes to the stranger on the porch.

He's… gorgeous. He has short blonde hair and he's all… stout and muscular. My brain works at half of the speed it usually does as I register his perfect, small smile. What the hell is this? I never salivate over boys! "H-hi," I gasp finally, coming back to reality for air. He tilts his head to one side, studying me. I narrow my eyes. "Madge'll be ready soon."

He nods, his eyes dashing down to my lips. I cock an eyebrow. "Come in, if you want." I drone. As he nods his polite thanks, stepping in. Every girl gene in my body tells me "Push the fucker out of your house!" My inner voices use horrid words, don't they? I step far away from... Peeta, that's his name.

He smiles modestly down on me. "I'm Peeta, by the way." He offers softly, affirmatively. He holds out his hand for me to shake, and I hear the commotion of Madge's high heels and Prim giving her a compliment.

I step back, muttering "Yeah I know." Peeta's perfect little brow furrows, curious and confused. I'm appalled when his confusion turns into coy amusement. He puts his hand back down by his side, lifting his eyes from mine and smiling warmly at Madge. What the hell is with the change in attitude?

"Hi Peeta." She grins at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Some form of fear grips my heart when Madge informs him: "This is Katniss Everdeen. It's her house." My eyes grow wider, but I hide it when Peeta smiles at me again.

"Really?" He mutters, giving me a look I feel I need to return challengingly. I stop my urge, the slightest scorn showing in my features though. Madge sends me a disapproving look as Peeta chuckles, which concerns her. "You don't approve of me?" he asks.

"You could say that." I utter. His blue eyes light up.

Before he or I can say any more, Madge cuts in: "We're going to go now. Goodbye, Katniss." Her words are curt as she pushes her newly found boy toy out the door. I can't shut it behind them quickly enough.

Peeta is eventually forgotten, but the uneasy feeling he gave me stays. At 11 o'clock, I sit and watch some old Ellen reruns, one with Ryan Gosling. He's funny and cute. Why can't I meet a guy like that I'm attracted to? I hate the name Ryan, though. Prim is asleep soundly upstairs in her room. Our house is… I won't say big, but not small. The inside is lavish, too much so. I don't like it.

I jump as someone bangs on the door. I stand and when I'm halfway there, it swings open, and I'm pinned under Madge's gaze. "What the hell was that about?" She snarls at me.

"You bursting in my house?" I ask sarcastically.

"Katniss, don't fuck with me."

"Why, because Peeta wouldn't?" I snap, clapping a hand over my mouth. Where the hell did that come from? "Wait, Madge, I'm sorry. That… wasn't supposed to be said." Our usual unfriendly, joking banter just pops out when we're fighting and it… it hurts. Wait, why are we fighting? "What'd I do?"

"You were fifty shades of hostile towards Peeta. He was in a trance all night!" She spits. She's mad. She looks like she's been running a hand through her once perfect hair.

"Madge, I-I'm sorry." I stammer. She shakes her head, looking down at her feet and loosening her clenched fists.

"I just don't understand you sometimes." She breathes, and I ask if she'll stay for a while. "No Katniss. I'm going. Bye." She turns on her heel, walking out of my house and slamming my door behind her. It's my job to slam that door! I pinch the bridge of my nose, Peeta's smile stuck in my head. It's sickening and frightful to a woman like me with even a pinch of self-preservation. Well, not a woman, a seventeen year old girl, just a girl with a dirty mouth and a disturbed mind. Thoroughly disturbed by that blonde goddess.

Authors note: This story will eventually have heavy smut. DO NOT GO ON IF YOU DON'T LIKE SMUT. Alright? I don't want to deal with complaints. Just enjoy the coming sex.