A/N Thanks for give a review on my last thingy. I'm so sorry about the wait. I have been crazy busy and have been muttering thought the worst-case of Writer's Block. Then when I did have something, my laptop shutdown erasing it. Although I haven't just sat down and thought about where I wanted to go with this chapter. Also I forget the conversation between Katniss and Haymitch (HOW?! I don't know) but I putting it in now.
Chapter 25; Tipping pot
The day wore on slowly. All the jumbled pieces of the day had been fixed and adjusted. I had apologized to Effie for my outburst. Peeta and I had found a compromise with my prep team. We had all agree that they had over reacted but so did I. we decided to drop the conflict as a whole.
The night had dragged in slowly. It's as if it came with the same desire I wanted it, not at all. I knew I have a task to do. Haymitch needs to know about the president, even if Peeta didn't know. I could no longer keep it bottled up inside me, and I knew that Haymitch would know what to do.
I twist the handle to the room Peeta and I decided to share. Peeta had fallen asleep and was now lightly snoring. I had waited a safe amount of time to make sure he would not wake. I slip out of the room and into the hallway. I knew Haymitch would be awake, probably having his nightly affair with a bottle of liquor. When I reach his door I knock, behind the door I hear Haymitch curse and the shuffling of stuff. He opens the door with a grumble.
"What do you want?" he scoffs.
"I need to talk to you," I say.
The train lurches to a stop and for a second I fear that the president did not approve me confronting Haymitch and is going to kill me now. But no, it's just for fuel.
"It stuffy in here, don't you agree?" I ask. It a harmless sentence but at the same time got my message across. Haymitch walks over to one of the doors and wrestles it open. An Avox runs over as Haymitch jumps out of the car.
"He's drunk, I'll get him." I say. The Avox nods and for a moment she looks totally done with this. I guess she didn't like the fact that two people had jumped out of the train in one day. I jump out of the car and Haymitch lead me far beyond the end of the last car.
"What do you want?" he says. And I tell him everything. About the president's visit, about Madge's opinion about the baby, and about how everyone will die if I fail. When I finish he rubs the bridge of his nose.
"Than you can't fail," he says.
"Please, Haymitch. If you could only help me get thought this trip-" he cuts me off.
"It won't end when we get back home. Even if you succeed, they'll be back in another six months for the games… You and Peeta, you'll be mentors now. Every year from here on out and every year they'll revisit the romance, broadcast the details of your private life. And you'll never, ever be able to anything but live happily ever after with that boy."
The full impact of what he's saying hits me. It's not the fact that I'll never be able to live alone, because being with Peeta would be a dream come true. But the fact that they will be visiting every year and what will happen the baby when each year comes. How will that affect him or her?
"Do you understand what I mean?" he presses me. I nod. I now full understand where and why Haymitch and Madge were coming from. Why it would be best if it were never born.
We walk back to the train and into the shared room. I didn't even try to sleep I knew it was futile. So instead I sat at the end of the bed and rubbed my belly till dawn broke though the blinds. Till I rubbed my belly red.
Xoxo Time Jump oxoX (Here I'm skipping the rest of the tour)
The metal of the ring on my finger still felt weird against my skin. All I could think about was the slight shake of the president's head. And the meaning behind the small gesture. I know that the plan was now going to have to evolve.
It had been a week after the feast in twelve. Today was Sunday and I knew what I had to do. Confront Gale. I knew the sooner the better. I knew even if he rejected me at least he wouldn't be mad at me for not making the effort.
To all my objections my belly continued to grow at a steady pace. I am pecking on my fourth month and showed quite a bit. Cinna had given me a range of clothing sizes when Peeta, Haymitch, and I were dropped of here at Twelve. Mother had told me after we had gotten home that at any moment I would feel the baby kick. I did know how to react so I smiled and thanked her.
The Sunday morning it had snowed and I the frost on my window warned of the chill outside. I pulled on my jacket and stepped into the downfall of white. The grounds keeper had shoveled and the concrete was clear. I knew the walk to Gale's would be long so in preparation in my hands I held a thermos filled with tea. The container radiated heat that seeped into my hands.
I began my walk to The Hawthorne's. I had only gotten three houses down before I heard a loud crash. I looked around as I assumed Haymitch was stand somewhere near by and had dropped a bottle of liquor and was going to curse it out for not staying in his hand. But there was no trace of Haymitch was anywhere. For some odd reason I looked franticly for what had made the sound. It was then that I noticed I was in front of Peeta's house. His door was ajar and the sounds of distant grunting could be heard.
For a flint second my mind came up with the worst thought possible.
Is he cheating on me?
I tried to brush it off like a piece of lint on my shoulder. But it remained, even as I fought it so harshly. My feet slipped out of my control as they crept up to his door. I slide it open. The scene that lay in front of me was worse than my original thought. Peeta was on top of Gale, wailing punch after punch on him. Peeta's eye was almost swollen shut; his lip cut open and a bruise on his chin. Gale was worse; His nose was crocked and bleeding heavily, blood drizzled out of the corner of his mouth. But what scared me the most was the expression on Peeta's face, I had only seen it once before, in the attic of the District 11's Justice Building.
Was this becoming a normal thing for him?
I also tried to push that out of my mind but it was like the words were tattooed to the insides of my eyelids. No matter how many times I pushed it out of my mind it rebounded with a fiery.
My grip on the thermo loses and it slips from my hand. It hit the ground with a loud clunk. Tea spills from the hole in the lid covering a lot of space in little time. In this moment they both finally notice me. They both wear surprised expressions then sorrow filled ones. Peeta tries to scramble to his feet before I stop him.
"No," I said holding my hand out. He froze halfway. My eyes flickered between both of them. "I trusted you, both of you, and you just go and beat each. Like it's going to solve a problem." I turn and face the door. The only emotions I could feel were betrayal and despair. I could feel the tear prick at the sides of my eye as I said my next sentence. "I don't want to see either of you again."
"But Katniss-" they said at the same time.
"Save it," I snap as I basically ran out of the house. I could hear both of them get to their feet and run after me, wanting to explain their reasoning for what they had done but I didn't want to hear any of it. One of them put a hand on my shoulder. I jerk away.
"Please Katniss," Peeta says.
"I don't want to hear it," I snap. He grabs my shoulder again and spins my around. I stop and stare at him angrily.
"What's wrong-?" he says.
"What's wrong?! You two were just beating each other bloody! Look at him!" I yell pointing toward Gale, who had stopped five feet behind Peeta, he held his nose in his hand periodically pulling away revealing more and more blood. "You broke his nose! It's even crocked! Look at your eye!"
"But Katniss don't make rash decisions," he scoffs. "Remember you have a baby to think about."
"That's exactly what I'm doing, to many people are getting hurt. You guys used to be friends. Now look. Just…just leave me alone" I sigh. And begin to run away. They stand there incapacitated while they contemplate my words.
When I reach my house I slam and lock the door. I slide down the door sit there my face fall into my hands as tear stream from them. It's not long before Peeta knocks on the door. He tries to explain what happened but I'm to numb to listen. But one sentence stuck out from the blur of his words.
"…I promised I'd be here with you though all of it and I'm not breaking that promise…"
In that moment I felt a strange flutter across the inside of my belly. As soon as it came it was gone. I rubbed my tummy up and down trying to get it to happen again. Unlike most women describe it being sweet, an eye-opener. To me it was a red flag. A siren. Urgency.
To me it meant something was wrong. I pushed off of the door and onto my feet. I searched franticly for my mother and her kit. I found her knitting in her room. She looked at me surprised.
"Good morning," she says.
"Mom, the baby kicked," I say franticly.
"Good," she said focusing back on her knitting.
"Can you please check the baby?"
"Why? Is there something wrong?"
"Why isn't the baby still kicking?"
"Because it's tiny, and doesn't have much energy,"
"Please, Please can you check again?"
"If it means that much to you," she says placing her knitting to the side. She reaches under her bed and pulls out her kit. "Sit." I do so without compliance.
She scavenges though her bag and pulls out a stethoscope and measuring tape.
"Lift you shirt," she orders. And again I do so. The cold of the stethoscope surprises me. She slides it across my bump until stopping at a particular spot. Her eyebrows knit together and a curious expression creeps onto her face.
"What's wrong?" I say an urgent edge to my voice.
"Stand," she response. With the measuring tape, she wraps it around me, measuring the bump. Her eyebrows knit further together.
"Mother, What's wrong?" I say a little more stern this time. She doesn't answer but instead grabs my forearm and leads me to the bathroom.
"Get on it," she says pointing to the scale on the floor. It was fancy and came with the house. I step on to it and wait for it to register. When it does mother's face knots into an expression I cannot read.
"What's wrong? Mom please tell me." I say grabbing her shoulders.
"But it can't be… Its not possible…" She mutters.
"What's not possible?" I ask.
"But how… No…" she mutters again. I shake her, trying to throw her out of her fit.
"WHAT'S WRONG?!" I all but yell at her. She looks me in the eye. Worry overflows over her blue eyes.
"There's two…" she says.
"Two what?" I ask.
"Two heartbeats," she whispers.
A/N Again I'm so sorry for taking so long. I was wondering what moments in the book I should still keep (Between the Victor Tour and The Quarter Quell) tell me in a review. Again thanks so much for reading my story. I hope I can get into a regular updating schedule. Thanks, Have A Wonderfully Fantastic Day!