I stood at the train station, irritated. Where was the train? I looked at the railway, still empty, no sign of the train. I groaned. What took him so long? I checked my watch, it was 11:40 am.
Fine, go to my house in District 2 exactly at 12:00 noon sharp, I'd have to go to the new Nut base by 12:30, I remembered Mr Hawthorne said.
District 2 was too far away, I couldn't make it there by 12:00 in only 10 minutes, not even the fastest train could ever do it.
"Where is it?" I yelled angrily. I looked left to right, still nothing. Okay, this was getting annoying. Connor never made it late.
Connor was my brother if anyone wondered, although no one thought we were siblings, they'd mistake us for our parents, no one can blame them. Anyways, Connor was my older brother by 2-3 years, so he's 18. He looked like our dad, even talked like dad, except with his flirting streak. He had our dad's blonde hair, although he had our mom's eyes, which had flecks of blue under sunny days. He was stocky, medium height like our dad, so he was like a miny-Dad with Mom's eyes.
He was annoying though, he'd often use his smooth way to talk and his appearance to get girls daily, but he mostly hit on housewives, so he'd always be beaten up by husbands, and it was always my part to get him out of it before they throw him in jail. He'd always end up going to school early after having into a fight for some random girl.
Kind of think of it, Dad always wanted to know where he got the flirting side from, and Mom would always reply, "He just got a tiny bit of it from you, Peeta." and we'd always laugh at the comment, except Dad was serious about this.
I stepped onto the railing and started walking north, and that was when the horn blew into my face. "Hey! Get out of my way! I'm going to pick up my sister!" Came out Connor's voice. I rolled my eyes.
"Let me in, Connor." I said as he opened the door. I walk in.
"Hey!" He grinned his pearly whites. "Where off to?"
I gestured to my clothes, "Where'd you think? Obviously, I'm going to go to District 2 to meet up with Mr Hawthorne."
He pouted as his shoulders slumped. "I still can't believe Mom sent you."
I looked at him straight in the eye and made a fake sympathetic look. "I'm sorry about that, really I am. Maybe it's because I look more like Mom, and let's face it, you'd flirt with Mr. Hawthorne's wife."
He smirked, "Come on, dining car's next. We'd be there soon."