Plot Twist

Chapter 2

"What?"

I'm not sure how long I stared at his face, but by now, look-alike-Peeta was wearing an irritated expression.

I cleared my throat, trying to get my fangirl under control, but my head was spinning and I couldn't quite catch my breath. "Could you, uh, pass the salt, Peet - I mean, brother?"

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Rule number one of visiting fictional books: don't call your pretend-brother by another character name because this is certainly not district twelve and he isn't making out with Katniss or throwing bread at people.

I tried to rationally come up with an explanation as to why Josh Hutcherson/Peeta was sitting here, and I was asking him to pass me things, but I couldn't. I mean, what the hell? How could I rationalize any of this? I was in a fucking book, for pete's sake! How was any of this going to be explained?

My stomach twisted and I felt nauseous.

Don't do this now, Cal. You cannot break down, okay? You need to keep your shit together right now because if you have an emotional melt down in front of these people, they a) ship me off to a mental hospital - and who knows what kind of mental hospitals they had in fictional books? - or b) find out you're an imposter.

I closed my eyes, taking a few deep calming breaths before opening my eyes and assessing the scene. Apparently, my little "moment" had been painfully obvious to the rest of the family because they were all staring at me with concerned expressions.

Except for Peeta.

He looked at me like I was scum underneath his shoe or something.

I mean, hello? Weren't book-character brothers supposed to be like these nice, understanding and protective siblings or something? What the hell was his problem? Eat too much bread there, Mellark?

Okay, the Hunger Games references are definitely getting a little out of hand here, Cal. Besides, you already called him Peeta once! You need to learn his name before you accidently slip that he looks exactly like an A-list celebrity. At least in my world, right?

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" Fake-mom peered at me with a worried expression before taking her hand to feel my forehead. "You don't feel warm, but my goodness, you could be coming down with something! You should stay home from school today. What if it's pneumonia? That could be fatal, I watched an episode of Doctor Oz where -"

"Sweetie, you're worrying too much. Our little Cal here may be human, but she's not a glass doll. She's fine," Fake-Dad came to the rescue, cutting off Pretend-Mom and giving her an expression I could only describe as full of love, pride and admiration. I may not have known these people for more than a few minutes, but it was painfully obvious how much they loved each other. They must've had that weird mate bond thing going on.

Ugh, the feels.

"She might be delusional, mom, did you hear her? She called me Pete," Fake-brother took that moment to chime in and interrupt the little eye-staring-love fest going on.

Shut up, Peeta, you idiot. Can't you see this is a feels moment for fake-parents right now?

"You must've heard me wrong," I replied, gaining everyone's attention again and giving pretend-brother a glare, "And, uh, Mom? I'm totally fine. I don't have pneumonia and that Doctor Oz show is crap. Seriously, the man has a, 'new incredible weight-loss technique' every single episode. You need a new show." Despite my mini-rant about day-time television, I felt uncomfortable. Not only did I not know these people and they seemed to know me shockingly well, but I wasn't used to all the...fretting. First, Skylar practically had a conniption when she thought I had been hurt in the bedroom earlier, and now Fake-Mom was freaking out.