"Cuz the players gonna play, play, play, play, play and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate," I sang, ear splittingly loudly. The hot water rushed through my hair and splattered back out again on the floor. Luckily Fiona had an iPad mini, and the charger from that fitted my iPhone, so I'd started blaring music again. Not to mention singing along.

"Rosie, can you hurry up? I don't think I can stand much more of your screeching!" Fiona laughed from the stall next to me. I rinsed the last of the conditioner out of my hair and turned the shower off. The water spluttered out slowly, and then dripped to a complete stop. I grabbed the towel at my feet and wrapped it around me.

I threw on the same outfit from last night, as Fiona had offered to lend me some of her clothes until I got more on Saturday. "You nearly ready?" I called.

"I'm coming now," she said as she emerged from the shower stall, her hair still in an immaculate (although dripping wet) plait. "Let's get to class."

***

     After a weary morning of classes to which I payed absolutely no attention to, me and Fiona headed to Harriet and Julia's room. "There's a lovely little cafe in town we could go to," she enthused as we walk. "It does the best hot chocolates in the world, and some damn good coffees too."

     Even though I'd only known her a day or so, I'd already gotten used to Fiona's constant enthusiasm and optimistic ways. I'm telling you, the girl could find something good in every awful situation. I bet if we were dying, she would say brightly, "well, at least we will get to see what is on the other side at last."

     I already knew what's there. And although being a Cupid had become my next big dream (it used to be opening up a popular fashion store in New York, so that current one seemed far more reachable), being alive was the best thing in the universe.

     "Coffee sounds good," I said, stifling a yawn. I spent half the night going through all my clothes, trying to see if I could do anything to them. After about a hundred failed attempts, I wondered why I ever wanted to be a fashion designer. I think I was much better at actually shopping.

We reached the room and let ourselves in. Everyone was here. I sank down into one of the bean bags scattered childishly about the room, and caught a can of Coke thrown at me by Finn. Fiona flopped down next to me. "Can we show Rosie the Bride Cafe today?" She asked eagerly, with the air of a puppy wanting to go on a walk. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Leave the poor girl alone, it's her first day of classes. You want to take her absolutely everywhere but don't worry, there's plenty of time," she sighed. She was right about Fiona wanting to take me everywhere - I'd been getting hastily scribbled notes during every class informing me about the latest place that had just spring to mind, accompanied with an excitable grin. But she was wrong about there being plenty of time. Who knew how long I'd be staying there.

"Yeah, let's just stay here and have a lazy movie night," Finn chipped in. We all agreed to watch a movie, and after a lengthly debate eventually settled on Sweet Home Alabama. The boys groaned.

"But it's such a girly movie," Finn feebly protested.

"And I've seen it a million times. It's my sister's favourite movie." Owen grumbled. I froze. The moment seemed to be stuck in time, the use of the present tense sounding so out of place. It's my sister's... My sister's... My sister's...

"Rosie? Are you alright?" Fiona asked, sounding concerned. I jerked out of my stupor to find everyone was staring at me, and if I was back in my old body I knew my cheek colour would fully resemble that of a tomato. However, Jessica didn't seem to blush as easily, which is perhaps a good thing.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But the boys are right, it's a crap movie. Let's go for something different," I said with some difficulty. The others didn't seem to question it too much, instead re-starting the conversation about what movie to choose. However, Owen's eyes seemed to linger on me a fraction of a second longer before joining in the debate.

It didn't take long to find a suitable alternative everyone seemed happy with; the Hunger Games. I wasn't a massive fan of it but just nodded seeing as I was the one who dissed the last movie. As Julia pulled it out of her drawer, I said, "Anyone want popcorn or anything? I can nip round to the shop."

I was bombarded with orders for sweet popcorn, wine gums, drumstick squashies, galaxy caramel chocolate and Terry's chocolate orange. I headed out.

I was starting to walk towards the nearby shop, having reached outside, when I heard heavy panting approaching me and then a presence alongside me. "Hi Rosie," puffed Owen as he pulled his cardigan further round him and his cap down more securely on his head. "I thought I'd come and give you a hand bringing the stuff back. I was going to tell you but you were off like a shot."

I felt a small pang of guilt. It would probably be a bigger one if he wasn't my brother, and if I was alive it wouldn't be there at all, but because he was being so kind to me, who is to him a stranger sharing a room with the girl he loves, it was there. Small, but definitely there. "I should have waited." And although I hated letting my brother get one over me, I added in a small voice, slightly hoping he won't hear, "sorry."

He shrugged. "No biggie. But what I really wanted to talk to you about was why you reacted like that earlier."

I froze again, but seeing his curious look I forced my feet to shuffle forward another few steps. "What reaction?" I said perfectly innocently.

He stopped and turned to look at me in a single fluid motion. "There. You just did it again, there now. Froze. And don't tell me you didn't, because I do have eyes."

If it had been your average brother sister situation I would probably have made a joke about how his eyes obviously aren't that affective as he can barely see without his glasses. But that wasn't your average brother sister moment. In fact, I would never have an average brother sister moment again, and neither would he.

He backed away slightly, suddenly looking awkward. It's then I realised that there was fat little droplets of water running down my cheeks. I wiped my eyes fiercely. "On second thoughts, it's alright if you don't want to talk about it," he amended, staring down at his shoes. "Let's just go get what we need."

     I shook my head. "No, I'm just being insanely stupid. Please don't worry yourself over me." I told him, and it felt as if my legs have turned to jelly. I often scoffed the girls at school who talked about their legs turning to jelly when they saw their crush. But now I realised the sensation was all too real, and it wasn't necessarily applied to a particular moment, like meeting your crush. It could be applied to anything that makes you embarrassed, short of breath, close to being discovered at something. And my secret was far bigger than a severely stupid crush.

     He slung an arm around my shoulder. I half expected him to throw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, as he had always had the upper hand height wise, at least in my old body, and liked to prove it on a daily basis. Especially when I was wearing heels, because that was the only time I could match his height, and only in my highest pairs. "Rosie, I know you're new here, but you should know that we're always here for you. All of us." He said firmly, and with such conviction I almost believe him.

     "Even Harriet? She hasn't exactly warmed to me, to say the least," I laughed. But he looked at me seriously, his eyes telling me that this wasn't the moment for laughter or humour.

     "She's alright once you get to know her. But she's fiercely protective of Julia, heck, all of her friends. She's wary of you. She doesn't want anyone to get hurt." I looked at him curiously.

     "Why should I hurt anyone?" I quizzed him. I could have sworn I saw a faint pink blush creep into his cheeks.

     "No reason." But despite his offhand manner his eyes refused to meet mine, instead finding his shoes a far more interesting subject. I made a mental note to find out what's going on later.

***

     I fell back down onto the beanbag, my arms laden with goodies. I passed everything around, keeping a creme egg for myself. I carefully undid the shiny red and purple wrapper, scrunching it up in a single motion and sending it sailing in a high ark towards the bin. Instead of landing in with a plop to my admiring audience, it whacked Harriet on the forehead, prompting instant and infectious laughter. I couldn't help myself joining in.

     "You throw really hard," she informed me as I apologised. "It's not really the season for creme eggs either."

     OK, it was admittedly nowhere near Easter, so she had a small point, but I stuck my tongue out at her anyway. "You're just saying that because your jealous."

     She shook her head and looked away pointedly as I made a big show of sinking my teeth into the creamy chocolate. But I caught her stealing little glimpses back now and then. I grinned at her. "Sooooo jealous!"

     "I am not," she replied but this time she was smiling too.

     Tonight was the perfect night. There was a friendly feel in the room, and delicious food to be shared. We were all in stitches at places in the movie which are deadly serious and really shouldn't be funny. And I laughed so hard at Julia's impression of Katniss volunteering that Fanta squirted out of my nose, cueing yet more laughter.

     Yes, it was the perfect night.

     But nothing ever stays perfect, does it?

     Something else always gets in the way.

     We were all counting down the time left until the Games began, as the characters stood on the metal plates around the Cornucopia, matching our tones to the deep male voice counting down, when Owens phone rang. And rang. And rang.

     "Sorry guys," he said, just as the time was reaching zero. "I guess I'd better take this, it's from my mum."

     I was so caught up in the movie that I barely noticed him leaving the room. It was after all the bloodshed was over that I properly noticed he was gone. But even then, I didn't think twice about it. After all, I had heard the phone ring.

     It was only once we get to the stage where Katniss was trapped up a tree, with the Careers and Peeta waiting on her coming down below, that I commented on it. "Owen has taken a really long time on the phone, hasn't he?"

     Finn frowned. "Yeah, you're right, he's been gone for ages. He never spends this long on the phone."

     Fiona sighed, her eyes still glued to the screen. "So? I'm sure he's fine. You're panicking about nothing."

     Still, I couldn't shrug off the feeling something was wrong as easily as Fiona just shrugged her shoulders. A thought suddenly occurred to me that sends shivers down my spine. "I'm just going to go check on him." I informed the gang as I rose.

     All at once there was dozens of protests. "But you're missing the movie!"

     "He's probably still on the phone chatting, you'll just be interrupting him."

     "You seem to be awful worried about him. And you walked to the shop him earlier. He was the first person you met here. Do you have a crush on him, Rosie?"

     All at once my mind is plagued with disturbing images of me and him, that are definitely rated over fifteen. "OMGosh, no," I said, shooting Harriet my best death stare. "That's just plain wrong. He's my br-" I stopped in my tracks. "He's my friend. It's frankly dirty minded and disgusting to think of him like that."

     "I bet you think of him like that all the time," she smirked.

     I would given a million bucks to punch that smirk off her face. And it took me a lot self control that I didn't know I had to refrain myself from doing so. "Seriously, that better be some kind of joke because there's no way that could be serious."

     Fiona joined in the glaring match. "Don't worry, it's a joke. We all know you don't like Owen that way." The other two nodded supportively and earnestly, but Harriet still looked smug, as if she'd worked out my greatest secret and was now superior to everyone else. I decided to just leave without continuing the argument, because my hands had already clenched up into fists and were being slowly drawn towards Harriet's face by a mysterious force. Gravity, perhaps?

     Nope. It was complete and utter loathing.

     Without further ado, I slipped out the door to go find my brother, just as Katniss dropped a pile of tracker jackers on her enemies heads.

     Hmm. All I needed now was a tree full of tracker jackers with Juliet and Harriet underneath to make my life complete.

Hey guys! I hope this chapter was as fun to read as how fun it was for me to write! Any ideas for what Owens phone call could be about? Lol! Anyway, this is only half of the chapter I was planning on writing, but with the authors note it's over 2000 words so I decided just to split it in half. Which means unfortunately the next chapter will also be serious (although come to think about, this chapter wasn't that serious because it was only half of the serious one!) Anyway, four comments = upload in two days. Less = upload in four days.

Zoe xxx