Fancy

Chapter 5

Katniss

I shudder as we leave the prison where my worst nightmare lies. Peeta holds my hand gently as we walk back to his old ford truck he's had since high school. He helps me up into it and I pull the door shut.

He went in with me and we talked to Gale. Well, more like the two boys talked. They said a lot of harsh things to one another, Peeta defending me mostly because I couldn't stand to speak to him. Somehow, Gale found out about my working at the Tracker Jacker. He kept talking about how it didn't surprise him and after a while, I just left the room, Peeta following not five minutes after. I don't know what they talked about after I left. I don't really want to know. Most likely, it was nothing I would have wanted to hear anyway.

"You okay?" Peeta asks as we start to leave.

"This shouldn't have happened," I say. "I fell into his trap all over again."

"You were trying to be a good person Katniss," he says.

"Now you see why I don't try so often," I say as I look out the window and watch the world go by. "I don't even try with you."

"You haven't scared me off yet," he jokes. I just shake my head and look away. He seems to get the message and changes the subject. "Do you have to work tonight?"

"Yes," I say, feeling uncomfortable talking about my work. "I'm working all weekend."

"I wish you didn't work at a place like that," he says again. I roll my eyes at that and repeat to him what I seem to find myself repeating to him constantly.

"I know," I say. "And I don't like it either. But where else can I earn a whole month's rent in a single night without actually whoring myself out?"

"I told you I would take care of you," he says.

"I can't let you do that. I need to take care of myself first. I need to know when I leave, I'll never have to go back," I say, getting slightly annoyed.

"You'd get out of there quicker if you at least lived with me," he says.

"We aren't even actually dating Peeta," I say coldly. I feel him look at me and I sigh. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"I don't know what else I'm supposed to do to convince you I'm good enough," he says with a bit of edge to his voice. I nervously play with a dyed red strand of hair, curling it around my finger.

"You are good enough," I say. "But I'm not." I feel the truck stop and I notice we're at the woods.

"Katniss," Peeta says softly. "Can you look at me?" I turn to him and he sighs. "You have always been worth it. I have never thought you weren't worth it. Not for a single minute. You need to stop thinking about yourself like that."

"My mother didn't even want me," I say.

"You know that isn't true," he replies. "You know she only did it because you guys had practically no money left. She did it to save you." I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the truck. I start walking up the invisible deer trail to our meeting place. I hear Peeta start to follow me and when I turn back to him, he's carrying a box.

"What's that?" I ask him as he stops in front of me.

"Maybe something that will change your mind about what your mother thinks of you," he says as he hands me the box. I sit down beneath the tree and open the box. Inside is my old CD collection I left in my room, a tattered red notebook that is all to familiar, and a letter. I carefully open the level ops and find a carefully written letter in my mother's handwriting:

Katniss,

I know that I'm the last person you would want to hear from is me, but when Peeta came to me, I knew I needed to give you your music back.

Your father would never have wanted this for you, but I needed to get out on your own if I were going to keep your sister out of foster care. I'm sorry that that led you to have to work where you do, but you need to understand that you will never let me down as long as you work to let yourself become the star your father always wanted to be. Like your father, you have a voice and imagination that is the essence of beauty itself. Whenever you have a chance, I want you to look back on your work and your father's and try to follow your true passion.

I haven't told Prim where you are, but she misses you dearly and would love to have you visit sometime. If you can't though, I'm sure she'd understand. You can even blame me if you need it. Just know the money you send is going into a college fund for her and that she plans to go into the pediatric medical field.

I hope you can find some way to forgive me.

~Mom

I feel a tear run down my cheek as I close the letter and lift out my CDs. All my life, Country Music was my dream. From Patsy Cline and Dolly Parton to Reba McIntyre and Trisha Yearwood, I idolized the women of country music who stood with the men and could sing with just as much southern soul and passion as the rest of them. The music now doesn't have that. Those girls don't know what country music is about and most of the guys don't even sing about relatable things.

My mother packed all of them. Travis Tritt, Tim McGraw, Garth Brooks, Toby Keith, and all the rest tucked carefully in their covers and stored away in the box. I lift out the tattered red notebook and smile at my father's careful handwritten songs and the few that are my own.

"She does care Katniss," Peeta says finally and I look up at him with a small smile.

"I know," I say. "And I think I have an idea."

"What's that?" he asks.

"I'm going to try to write again," I say. "And maybe even sing."