Chapter Seven
"Willow," Mom sang in my ear, shaking me awake. "Li'l Willow, it's time for school." She repeated as I opened my eyes to met hers. I softly smiled and stretched as she sat down on the edge of my bed.

"Good morning." I yawned as I sat up, running my fingers through my knotted hair. Maybe Dad really did tie knots in my hair yesterday. I wouldn't put it past him.

"Did you sleep good?" She asked. I nodded my head, making her smile. "Good. Come downstairs. Your dad made your favorite." She explained as she left my room.

Quickly, I tossed the covers aside and chased after her, beating her down the steps. I took a deep breath, the smell of cinnamon filling my nose. Rye was already at the table eating. I took a seat beside him, grinning as I watched Dad carry over my plate full of cinnamon rolls.

"Good morning, Peanut," he greeted, kissing the top of my head. He slid my plate in from of my drooling mouth. "Sleep well?" He asked.

"Yeah, I slept great." I grinned as I quickly stuffed my face full. Dad always makes the best rolls. He smiled, nodding his head.

"Good. I was afraid of that stomachache of yours bothering you through the night, but you sure seem hungry for these." He teased. I stopped chewing, realizing I was still supposed to be sick. Then I wouldn't have to go to school.

"Yup, it looks like she's in the perfect condition to go to school this morning." Mom added, sitting down across from me. Well, I guess I can't get out school anymore. I let out a little sigh, going back to eating my treat.

Rye's hair was a mess, the curls tangling with other ones. His eyes were drooping, but he still shoveled fork loads into his mouth. He stared into the distance. I wasn't sure if he was sleep eating or beginning to doze off again.

"Hurry up and eat. School starts soon and you don't want to be late." Mom encouraged, seeing Rye's eyes close then shoot open again. He finished his plate and went his room to change.

Before I could leave the table, Haymitch arrived. He usually doesn't make it to breakfast. Typically, he sleeps in till past noon. It was weird to see him here so soon. "Uncle Haymitch." I smiled.

"Hey, sweet pea," He mumbled, ruffling my hair. He sat down at the table, sitting in Rye's spot next to me. "Peeta, mind bringing me something to eat?" He asked, leaning past me to see into the kitchen.

Dad grumbled something under his breath then handed Haymitch a plate filled with rolls. Haymitch grinned, slightly twirling his fork before stabbing it into the delicious roll. I turned back to my food.

Dad finally sat down at the table, smiling at me. I gave a quick smile back then stood up to put my plate away. "Pass me the butter, sweetheart." Haymitch declared, holding his hand out. Mom rolled her eyes and Dad chuckled beside her as she gave Haymitch the butter.

I rushed up to my room, quickly getting ready for school. We had an assignment to ask our parents and grandparents where they were when they first heard news about a rebellion. Of course, this wasn't a hard task for me at all. In fact, I could almost guarantee that she won't call on me today. It was pretty obvious where my parents were.

xxx

Finally, the last kid had spoken. I heard everything from being in a coal mine to fishing on a dock. Everyone in my class all had different stories than I would have expected, but a part of me wished I would have asked. It was a fairly simple task, but I was afraid that it would spark something too close to home. Oh well, I can ask them tonight when they're not tending to my mental wounds.

"I have another assignment," Mrs. Belling smiled, holding a sheet of paper. Most people groaned, tossing back their heads at the thought. By this point, I was only expecting worse and worse assignments to come rolling in. I wasn't even phased at the word anymore. "Next week, I want you to bring in someone from your family that feels comfortable talking about the rebellion."

That caught my attention. My eyes widened at the thought of bringing someone in to speak about their difficult time. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, debating about who to bring. I wanted to bring someone who didn't have too much trauma from the experience, but that was hard to weigh. Dad had more physical pain, I suppose. Most of his left leg was amputated and replaced with a prosthetic one, making it slightly difficult to walk. But Mom was the symbol of the rebellion. She's on nearly every poster for freedom I've ever seen.

I ignored my math lesson, fighting with myself over who to drag to this horrible assignment. I suppose I could bring both, so they could support one another, but that could just traumatize both of them. I didn't know what to do.

Before I knew it, it was already time to head home again. I hoped there was some leftover rolls from breakfast, but in the pit of my stomach, I knew Haymitch ate them all. I got caught in the flow of the students trying to leave, making me have to talk with people today. "So, Willow, I'm guessing you're going to bring your parents, right?" Prim asked, her blue eyes meeting mine.

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet." I answered, shrugging my shoulders. I really didn't want to bring anyone. Maybe if I faked being sick, I could escape this stupid speaking assignment.

"If my mother and father were victors and a huge part in the rebellion, there would be no question about what I'd do," she scoffed, giving me her opinion that I didn't ask for. "My parents hardly did anything in the rebellion. Too young." She explained. "But, my grandparents did do a few things, but nothing like your parents. Both of their duties combined and doubled wouldn't make up for what your mother did in one day, I suppose."

"Every job was important." I countered, trying to turn away from this subject. I hated when people weighed their family against mine, claiming mine did all of the work in the rebellion. Dad told me that everyone was important, and I believe him. After all, we couldn't all be symbols.

"Please, all my grandparents did was sit in their house in the Capitol and watch the Hunger Games go on for years until the star-crossed lovers appeared and made them realize how idiotic the Games really were," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "After that, then they were against the Capitol, but in secret, of course. They didn't do anything besides happen to be in the area where my grandmother got bombed."

I stared forward, unsure what to say. It was true. It's hard to have Capitol loving grandparents speak if I bring my star-crossed lover parents into the mix. I would blow the rest of the students out of the water. But I didn't want to do that.

Rye rushed to my side, grinning from ear to ear. "Gale said he's coming over for dinner tonight." He declared.

"What?" I exclaimed, scrunching my nose at him. My day could not get any worse. I have to find someone to spill out their rebellion experience and survive supper with Gale at my table? No way. I won't allow it!

"Yeah, he said he was invited by Mom and Dad. Isn't it cool?" He explained, his gray eyes sparkling with delight. No. Not it wasn't cool. It was terrible.

"Gee. Sounds like we'll have so much fun tonight." I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

Rye giggled, holding his backpack straps close to his body. "I know, right!" 

I let out a sigh, deciding to drop the conversation. There were too many things trying to fill up my mind at the moment. Gale eating with us. Finding some poor soul to lay out their rebellion problems. The image of Rue in the flowers. The clip of my mother killing someone without hesitation.

Ugh. A shiver ran down my back at the thought of the last one. That was not something I wanted to think about again. It was something I should just bury deep, deep down inside of myself and try to forget.

"Geese!" Rye shouted, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up, and sure enough, Uncle Haymitch was outside feeding his geese. Rye ran off towards them and I followed. I loved Uncle Haymitch's geese.

Their obnoxiously loud honks filled the air as we got closer and closer. "Hi, Uncle Haymitch." Rye greeted, patting each goose on the head. I stroked my hand over a little one, hearing his tiny honks of delight.

"How are my favorite kiddos?" He asked, tossing out more food for them. The only time Haymitch feeds his geese is when he's out of liquor. Which, makes sense, since the train hasn't been here in a while.

"Good." We answered. He nodded his head, walking over to sit on his front steps. We followed suit, sitting beside him.

"Uncle Haymitch," Rye started. "When will your geese fly south?" He asked, looking up into his matching gray eyes.

"My geese don't fly south," he grumbled. "They have plenty of food right here." He answered.

"Oh. I thought all geese fly south." Rye replied, staring forward again. We sat in the quiet, watching them honk at each other. Suddenly, I felt the need to tell Haymitch about tonight.

"Haymitch," I begin, gathering his attention. "Gale is coming over for supper tonight." I stated.

"Gale?" He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows at me. "As in Gale, your mother's hunting partner and best friend Gale?" He clarified. I nodded my head, slightly turning up my nose.

"I'm really excited," Rye added, not noticing our obvious hated for the man. "He's pretty cool. Did you know he got to fly in one of those cool spaceships?" He smiled, still watching the geese honk and chase each other.

"Did you know I got to fly in one of those spaceships?" Haymitch fired back. Rye turned around, his eyes as wide as plates. He shook his head, a grin plastered on his face.

"Tell me a story about it! Tell me! Tell me!" Rye begged, nearly bouncing on the steps. Haymitch leaned forward. I could tell he was about to say something to crush his spirits, but decided against it.

"Sorry, kiddo. I don't have any good stories. They're all very...well...boring." He slowly nodded, softly smirking. Rye rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Haymitch.

"It was too long ago, wasn't it?" He asked, a slightly sadness present in his voice.

"Exactly. I'm an old man who forgets where I keep my keys to the house." Haymitch agreed, leaning back against the steps.

"And to your liquor cabinet." Rye added, smiling at him.

Haymitch raised his hand, pointing at Rye and slightly lowered his eyelids. "Exactly, Squirt." He grinned, using my parents' nickname for Rye. He giggled, giving Haymitch a hug.

I licked my lips, debating about what to do. Gale was definitely going to ruin my night. I couldn't even stand looking at him during school, let alone in my house. I squirmed, thinking about how I'd have to sit across from him today at the table.

I turned and looked at Haymitch, who was now free from Rye's tight grasp. "You're joining us, right?" I asked, hoping he'd hear the pleading in my voice.

"Yes! Uncle Haymitch, you have to!" Rye joined in. Yes, there was no way Haymitch could say no to Rye. He was too sweet and innocent. And Haymitch, well, we all know what he's like.

He rolled back his gray eyes, letting out a long sigh. I could tell this was killing him. "Fine. But only because you kids are getting on my nerves." He grumbled.

I silently cheered, thankful that I wouldn't be the only one who hated Gale at the supper table tonight. Rye jumped up into the air, startling a few of the geese. "Careful! You're scaring the geese!" Haymitch scolded as Rye took off for the house, joy radiating off of him.

I stood up and Haymitch followed suit, cracking his back before he headed towards his house. "You better head home. I'm sure your darling mother wants you to look absolutely stunning tonight for our guest." He stated, making me pout. He knew how much I hated dresses. I listened to him laugh as he shut the door.

I huffed, heading home. I should be grateful that Haymitch willingly decided to come over for supper. If he wasn't going to be there, I'm not sure what I would do. He was going to be my rock for tonight.

I entered the house, smelling the air. Dad had baked again and Mom's game was in the oven, roasting itself into sweet deliciousness. Oh, the idea was nearly making my mouth drool.

I wandered into the kitchen, hoping I could sneak a bite, but my wrist was quickly caught. "Nope! Upstairs. Now." Mom commanded, pulling my hand away from Dad's cheese buns.

"Aww!" I whined, slouching my shoulders. Mom shook her head, shoving me towards the stairs.

"No whining, Willow. Gale will be here any minute and I don't need him to see you at your worst." She argued, nearly carrying me up to the steps.

"But Mom!" I groaned. I already knew what was waiting for me at the top. A nice, clean dress and pinching shoes to match. No doubt they came from Aunt Effie. Even though I have never met the woman, she send me gifts on my birthday and Christmas.

"Willow, listen to your mother." Dad called from the kitchen, backing her up. I rolled my eyes as Mom pointed to my room, blocking the way to the stairs. I knew there was no point to complain anymore. What Mom said went.

Sure enough, placed on my bed was a nice red dress and matching red flats. There was a note, explaining it was from Effie, wishing me a happy birthday and reminding me to behave for my parents.

I slightly scoffed as I placed the note on my desk. My birthday wasn't for another few months. No doubt this was left over from last year. I forced myself into the dress, telling myself I was only doing this to please my parents. I crammed my feet into the shoes, reminding myself to write Effie back that my feet had grown a size since last year.

I stood in the mirror, brushing down my hair. It was a mess from surviving school and Haymitch's geese, but other than that, it looked fine. I ran my hand down my dress, smoothing it out. This was only for supper.

I exited my room, hearing everyone downstairs rushing to get things ready. "Katniss, I don't understand why we're forced to dress nice for Gale. He does know us, ya know?" Dad argued as Mom forced him into a nice shirt and tie.

"Because," Mom huffed as she fussed with his blonde hair. "I want him to see how much we have changed since the last time we met." She declared, nodding her head in satisfaction at her work.

"Seems a little extreme for someone you've trusted your life with." Dad replied, slightly shaking his head as he walked past her. I walked towards Mom, hoping this would calm her nerves.

"Well, don't you just look fabulous?" She smiled, reaching over to fix my dress so it was square on my body. I lightly chuckled, feeling her hands shift my dress. "Perfect." She nodded before walking off to tend to Rye, who was going to be the most trouble. The door opened then slammed shut.

I was wrong.

Haymitch was going to be the most trouble. He was dressed in the same shirt from the past two days that smelt like alcohol. "So when's our guest showing up?" He asked. He stopped, staring at Dad. "Wow, I can't believe she talked you into wearing that horrid shirt." He stated, picking at Dad's shirt as I followed behind him.

Mom sighed, rolling her eyes. "Haymitch, go home. No one asked you to show up." She grumbled, shoving him towards the door.

"On the contrary, sweetheart," he replied, holding up his hand to stop her. "Willow and Rye asked me to come."

"Haymitch, they're children." She argued.

"Wow. Come on, Katniss. Have some love for your favorite mentor slash babysitter and let me sit down with the guy and have a few glasses of wine." He fired back, stumbling towards the dining room table, taking a seat.

"Haymitch, we're trying to impress him. Not show him how disgusting you can be." Mom spat, crossing her arms over her chest. Haymitch looked around, spotting me standing off to the side.

"And to think, your father fell head over heels for that." He stated, gesturing towards Mom. Behind me, I could hear Dad laughing. Mom cursed under her breath as she rushed to go find someone else to pick on.

Rye came and sat at the table, smiling at Haymitch. "Mom said she wants you to go home because you're going to make a mess of her lovely supper." He grinned, swinging his legs back and forth in his chair.

"Did she tell you to say that?" Haymitch asked, leaning across the table. Rye shook his head, his blonde curls swishing back and forth.

"No. She had some bad words thrown in there," he explained. He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. "Maybe she was talking to Dad."

I walked over to the table, sitting beside Rye. I smiled at Haymitch, placing my hands on the table. I needed him, so I was glad he was just as stubborn as my parents. I knew he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

Someone knocked on the door, making me and Rye sit up straight. Dad walked towards the door, slightly tripping his prosthetic leg on the rug. He opened the door, giving me a view of the man I hated.

Gale.

I immediately vowed to myself to make this the worst supper he had ever had. He was going to regret ever coming back to 12. "Peeta, nice to see you again." Gale breathed.

"Gale." Dad replied, his voice hard. That's when I realized I would have help. It was now obvious Dad was against the man being in our home. This was going to be an interesting meal.

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