Broken Winged Birds that Cannot Fly

Chapter Nine

A/N: The update day for Broken Winged Birds will be Wednesday from now on as it fits my college schedule better.

Also, I'm going to be holding a cover art competition! Design a cover for any of my current stories and the winner will get a one shot of their choice written and published onto my page! I'll be posting the full T&C's on my profile soon! :-)

Chapter Nine

I am forced to miss school the next day. My body is at war with itself, causing me to have spent 75% of my day in the bathroom. Before she went to work, my mum explained that it's my organs moving in my body to accommodate the baby that is growing inside. Everything is being pushed, putting pressure my body and causing my sickness. Prim spent some of the day with me, making soup for me and chatting, but she left at six o'clock to meet Rory at the park. Well, she says the park. I doubt that's where they're actually going. I don't think she wanted me to know what they were really going to do.

I don't have to worry too much about her, though. I think seeing me on my bad days has put her off any thoughts of unsafe sex. Thoughts that I hope weren't there to begin with anyway.

Peeta comes to see me in the evening when the house is empty. We sit in my room, underneath my blanket, and talk. I feel safe snuggled against his side, like the curve of my body is a puzzle piece that slides perfectly into the side of his. His fingers play with the end of my braid while we chat, his arm hooked around me in a protective hug. Being with him almost helps me forget how nauseous I feel.

"What did I miss today?" I ask, sticking my hands between my knees to warm them up.

"Well, the Seniors got pulled into the hall for a talk about STD's," Peeta answers. He sighs heavily, the memories of the talk clearly disturbing him. "It was informative, to say the least . . ."

I pull a face, feeling glad for the first time today that I actually took sick today. The last thing I want to sit through right now is a talk about STD's and sex. I'm already serving my punishment for having unsafe sex. I'm just lucky that Marvel was clean. "Who organized that?" I ask.

"Mrs Lyme," says Peeta. "They tried to make it cool by giving out prizes and stuff."

"Prizes?" I scoff.

"Yeah and you'd never guess who got the main one," Peeta replies.

I think it over and roll my eyes. "Glimmer?"

"Cato, actually."

"Fantastic," I say sarcastically. "What was the main prize?"

"Tickets to some concert. Some indie band I've never heard of but the populars seemed excited about it," Peeta answers. Of course they were. "I got these though." He sticks his hand into his pocket and produces a handful of small square packets. On first glance, I think they're sweets but when I look closer I realize they're something else.

"Oh my god!" I cackle, picking a packet out of his hand. "You got condoms?!"

"We all got condoms," Peeta laughs, taking my hand and shifting the condoms into it. I count them up and laugh even harder when I reach the final number.

"Damn, they gave you ten!" I snigger. "What the hell? Did they give ten each?"

"They gave out bags of stuff," Peeta explains. "Condoms; health pamphlets; even a weird pleasure gel thing. Honestly, I think it was more a sponsor event for Durex."

I snort. "Well at least Glimmer and Gale won't have to fork out for protection for a while," I say.

Peeta laughs and shakes his head. That sort of humour doesn't usually get him but when it's me, somehow it always tickles him. This sort of talk has reminded me of something, though, of something I'd been meaning to ask him ever since Marvel and I spoke at the park. "Peeta, are my boobs getting bigger?" I ask.