When You're Not Looking | By : Embracer Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy Views: 13084 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Hunger Games. It all belongs to Suzanne Collins. This is just for fun, not money. |
Chapter 3 PEETA POV Well, that worked out quite well. Now, I get to drive this fascinating creature back to her work giving unfettered access to her for at least ten minutes. After we’ve said our goodbyes to everyone, I guide her out to the valet with Finnick. Everyone else disperses to their own cars. Finnick’s car comes first and he bids us farewell, kissing Katniss on the cheek. I want to do that, too. We’re alone. “So, where do you work?” I ask trying to catch her eye, but she seems intent on looking at her hands. “Abernathy Family Pharmacy on Forest Drive. Do you know where that is?” she asks without looking at me. “Yes,” I definitely know the place. It’s where I went every week to get my dad’s medicine before he passed, but I can’t tell her all of that now. How could I have missed her all the times I was in there? “How long have you worked there?” “Almost three years now. Why?” How do I answer this question? Do I tell her? “I used to go in there weekly, but I haven’t been in a long time. I guess I must’ve missed you…” her eyes snap to mine. I guess that was a weird thing to say, “you know, when I went. Maybe you were on a break or something.” Wow, now she thinks you’re a creeper. “I do a lot of the home deliveries or prescriptions and equipment. So, I’m not actually in the office very much.” She seems okay, but she continues with curiosity in her eyes. “Why don’t you come in anymore?” It’s my turn to look at my hands, and try to figure out how to answer, “The medicine was for my dad. He doesn’t need it anymore.” She must read me well, because all she says is, “Oh.” She’s searching my eyes now, for what I’m not sure, but hers convey sympathy and understanding. My car has arrived, and I guide her by the small of her back to the passenger side and open her door. She slides in gracefully and smiles. I hop in the driver’s side, looking at her while I fasten my seat belt. She is fidgeting with hers and looks away. We begin the 6mile journey. She’s staring out the window, and I can see the long line of her neck, and she’s playing with her fingers. Come one Mellark, think of something to say! I’m trying desperately to find something to break the ice with, but nothing. She does it for me, “Where’s your bakery?” That’s a question I can answer easily, “It’s on Pickens Street, right across from the University.” She ponders as if she’s trying to remember, “What’s it called?” I smile, “It’s a very clever name: Mellark’s Bakery. It took a long time to come up with that one.” She smiles in return, getting my little joke. So, I decide to push a little, “Would you like to come by sometime and take me up on my “anything” offer?” Her eyes bore into me suspiciously, but the smirk on her face gives her away. She doesn’t respond for the duration of the red light. When it turns green again, “When?” I’m floored by this. This is great! “Anytime. It’s Friday, and we usually close at 7pm. How about tonight?” She only nods her head as her response. I pull into the parking lot at Abernathy’s, and she hesitates before getting out of the car. She looks at me and puts her hand on top of mine on the gearshift, and says, “I guess I’ll see you tonight.” It’s my turn to just nod, and she’s gone. I rub my hand briefly where hers had been and pull away trying to breathe. Wow! Did I just get a date for a Friday night? How did that all just happen? This is surreal. I haven’t been on a real date in a couple of years. Since then, it’s just been when someone sets me up blind, and they always turn out to be horrible dates. The expectations on both sides are always too high, and the simple fact that you’re complete strangers never helps. No one has made me feel any kind of spark like today, not even Delly. I was with her for two years, but it never felt like that when she touched me. Katniss either has some sort of magic power or we were supposed to meet. Mellark you’re such a pansy! Yea, so sue me. I’m a romantic, can’t help it. My subconscious and I are not getting along these days.
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