I sit on the concrete wall behind the school and watch Kat Stratford talk. I say "watch" because, though her lips are moving, and her hands gesturing a mile a minute, I'm barely hearing anything she's saying. Something about healthcare, maybe?

Every inch of Kat exudes passion. Her eyes are burning with anger at ten thousand injustices; her fingers curl and uncurl, unconsciously grasping at something she can't touch, longing to make a change. Later, I'll sketch her this way. Kat doesn't know about that, the sketches. She would probably never guess in a million years that I spend hours trying to recreate, on paper, the exact stunning spark in her eyes. I doubt she'd even take the time to think about what I do when I'm not with her or at school. She turns to me, leans in, her lips forming the words "Don't you see?!" and my stomach does flips. I'm itching to touch her, to kiss her, but who knows what she'd do if I tried.

She turns away again, looking out over the school courtyard. I think she's talking about Iran now, about oil, about greed and corrupt political systems. All I can do is nod.

The California sun comes out from the clouds it's been hiding behind, and the golden light hits her hair and face, making her seem to glow. The sudden warmth seems to surprise her, and she stops talking, tilts her head back to feel the sunlight touch her. My breathing catches in my throat, and I find myself saying "You look really nice today, Kat." She looks at me, surprised. "Thanks. You look good too." She laughs. "What brought that on?"

Before I can answer, a voice calls her name from our right, and Kat's face lights up in a way that's not from the sun, or from passion about political change; and not, God knows, from anything to do with me. She springs off the wall and over to him, shouting "Hey!"

Her boyfriend (even in my mind, the word tastes bitter and poisonous) smiles and bends down to kiss her, and she wraps herself around his neck, pressing against him and looking for all the world as if she wants to become a part of his tall frame. Some feminist. When they break apart, she says in a voice that's breathless from kissing and infatuation, "I thought you weren't coming!"

Patrick Verona grins and says in his smooth, low voice "I knew you couldn't go a whole afternoon without the pleasure of my company." Kat scoffs and rolls her eyes, but she's smiling, and the scoff turns into a bit of a giggle at the end. It feels like I've been kicked repeatedly in the stomach. He lowers his voice enough to hint at the feel of of intimacy and secrecy, but not so low that I, sitting a few feet away, can't hear. "I was thinking we could go to the beach" Kat smiles up at him from under her lashes, and turns to face me, letting Patrick slip his arms around her waist. "You want to come, Mandella? I mean, we're not really doing anything here..."

I feel like throwing up. "Nah. I think I'll go... Do some homework. I've got a Chem test on Thursday. You go without me." The pain has to be written all over my expression. I know I'm not hiding it very well, the way my heart has plunged to my feet, because Patrick is staring at me with confusion on his chiseled features, as if he's trying to puzzle out my strange behavior, but Kat barely blinks before smiling and saying "Ok then. See you tomorrow Mandella." She turns to Patrick, who's still staring at me. "Let's go." He smiles at her and hands her a helmet. Once he gets on the motorcycle, however, he stares at me for a long moment before shaking his head slightly and riding off with Kat's arms wrapped around his waist.

I watch the girl I can never have ride away, and I sigh, putting my head in my hands.

A/N: Woot! 10 Things I Hate About You! This was super fun to write, with the whole making-you-think-it's-someone-else thing. (which worked...? *fingerscrossed*) And for the record, I ship Katrick boarderline obsessively, but from the frist episode, I kind of picked up on an obsession/worship/love vibe coming from Mandella, which only intensified after she punched that Woo kid. I don't know if I'm the only one to think this, but as far as I can tell I'm the only one who's written it here...

I'd love love LOVE you to review if you have something constructive and/or positive to say, but please be mature and don't flame me for the one-sided almost-femmeslash (which, nothing even HAPPENED, so it barely even counts)

(Oh. And, in case someone picked up on this, I know that the whole kissing Patrick bit may have seemed a bit OOC on Kat's part, but that's exaggeration on the part of Mandella's jealous mind, not because Kat has actually become one of those girls who only thinks about her boyfriend or whatever.)