So I'd just like to say that all texting is in bold/italics, and the grammer is completely awful, but it's on purpose. Also, the band A bright tomorrow is not real (That I'm aware of), I made it up for the story. I own nothing sadly :( no copyright infringement intended. This is my very first fanfiction, and I hope you like it.

Part 1

Saturday morning dawns and Kat untangles herself from her sister. Could Friday night have been any worse, for both of the Stratford sisters, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and fighting the urge to groan, Kat crawled out of bed. Bianca would probably sleep for a few more hours, and her dad would already be at work, so she grabbed her robe and headed for the bathroom to shower before Bianca turned it into her own personal spa. Her mind just would not stop pondering Patrick's disappearing act the night before. Where had he gone, and why did she have to care so freaking much. Feeling like an idiot was something the loathed, but somehow that seemed to be her natural state around tall, dark, and intense.

Groaning in frustration and shaking her head, she vowed not to think of the asshole again for the rest of the day. After her shower and morning rituals, she put on her robe and went back to her room to dress for a Saturday of no homework or chores. Dressed and feeling marginally better about life in general, she grabbed her cell phone to call Mandela; only to her shock, there were a dozen missed calls and just as many text messages. Most all of them were from Patrick, and with a frustrated exclamation, she tossed her phone back on her desk. Bianca made a sleepy snuffle and rolled over, and Kat put her hands on her hips while wondering. What if something was actually wrong, what if the idiot gotten into some sort of trouble, and that's why he'd disappeared. Against her better judgment, she started reading the texts.

"Kat I'm srry, damnit answr ur phone." Well how original of him, she rolled her eyes. The next two were variations on the same theme. The fourth one astonished her, "Kat I got arrested, will u plz answr ur phone."The last text made her sigh and bite her lip, "Kat obviously ur pissed, listen 2 ur voicemail, really srry."

Patrick had apologized, and just for that, she was very near to forgiving him. Something about him made her want to give him the benefit of the doubt, mostly because it seemed as if nobody else ever did, but that was the stupid in her wanting to trust him. Voicemail was number 1 on her speed dial, so she pressed it and listened to his explanation. Sitting down on the chair by her desk after hearing what he had to say, she could barely believe it. So he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and because of it, he hadn't been able to let her know. With a slight shake of her head and a relieved grin, it really hadn't been his fault; she realized that forgiving him would be no trouble at all.

So she flipped out her phone again and began the text, "Im srry I didn't answer the phone, I was sleeping. Ur forgiven. R u okay?" There that was short sweet and simple not at all idiotic, figuring he'd still be asleep as it was a little before 8am, she sent it off feeling calmed. When an instant reply came through a flash of surprise lit up her eyes.

"Im fine, A bright tomorrow is playing at Jake's tonite, wanna go, 8pm."

Biting her lip at his reply, she couldn't help but wonder what his deal was. Why did he have to make her so crazy, why did he have to frustrate her beyond all reason, this was stupid. It was almost as if he were asking her out, but she knew for a solid fact that he was only interested in getting her under him, and she had no intentions of going there. She wanted to scream, but figured Bianca would wake up and start pestering her. Maybe he just wanted to talk in person and get the whole dance incident out of the way, so they could be friends. With some reflective thought, that was really the only solid reason she could come up with, so she texted back,

"No date, but I mite show up solo. Maybe cya there."

His reply was slower, "Ur still mad."

She rolled her eyes at that, "Not mad, just no date. Dad would freak." There that was reasonable and he really couldn't say anything snarky about it, after all he'd met her dad.

Later on that day Kat finally got around to telling Bianca about the band and Patrick, and Kat had to beg her not to tell dad. With a squeal and a mischievous grin she said, "You will definitely owe me one". Getting ready wasn't as nerve wracking as she had expected it to be, a fluff of her already curled hair, and a light application of make-up nothing fancy, after all she was not out to impress anyone. A cute outfit of comfortable jeans and a rocker t-shirt, and she considered herself ready to go. Dad, amazingly enough, didn't give her too much flack, and she made her way to the club.

Patrick texted her around 8:10, "u coming."

She texted back, "be there in 5min".

At the door of the club, she paid her way in and flirted outrageously with the bouncer, and felt marginally better about showing up at the same venue as Patrick. An open table away from the crowd, but still close enough to ogle the lead singer, was against the far wall, so she quickly snagged it. Closing her eyes, and letting the music wash over her, she conceded that as annoying as Patrick was, he had kick ass taste in music. Sandalwood assaulted her senses, and without opening her eyes, she knew it was him, which freaked her out way more than she wanted to admit. Any man could be wearing the same cologne, but on Patrick, it just smelled completely unique. He was wearing his jacket, a pair of worn jeans, and a royal blue t-shirt; the boy didn't even try hard and he was sexy. That irritated her.

"Someone still has her panties in a twist." Was his opening shot as he leaned against her table.

Kat scoffed, "Don't, for one minute, think that you have any effect whatsoever on my panties."

His next question made her scowl, "Then what do I have an effect on?"

She shrugged in a nonchalant manner, "Other than my upchuck reflex, nothing."

Patrick slapped his hand on the table, "Ooh, see that, there. Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?"

Kat rolled her eyes, she wanted to laugh and punch him in the face at the same time. Realizing the latter would get her thrown from the club, she settled for ignoring him. Shifting nervously at how close he was, she did her best to concentrate on the music, but it turned out, ignoring him was not on his agenda. Patrick snagged a strand of her hair to rub between his fingers, so she slapped his hand away. A crooked grin settled onto his mouth, and Kat had to admit, as much as she hated to, that he had a dark mysterious male presence, and despite her inner arguments, she was definitely attracted.

Patrick sighed when she held her silence and said, "So you're not talking to me now." Turning in her chair and quirking her brow at him, she pinched her lips with her fingers.

"I could take the hint and shut up, but how else am I going to find out if you forgive me," he said on a laugh.

"You're forgiven Verona, god, just sit down, shut up and listen to the music. It's the reason I came." Exasperation was clear in her tone. Patrick pulled up a chair with his foot and sat down beside her, she almost said finally, but figured it would only invite more unwanted conversation.

"Was that meant to imply it wasn't because of me," he said.

Cocky grin in place and his all male attitude set her off, so she snapped out, "If you don't shut your mouth Verona, I'm going to shut it for you."

His hands came up in surrender. "Chill with the violence Stratford, one last question and I'll sit here like a good boy, promise."

A serious weight had come into his eyes so she rolled hers. "Spit it out," she snapped.

His hand came to rest on the back of her chair, and he leaned his body into her personal space. In a barely audible whisper, his lips brushing against her ear, he said, "Will you go out with me tomorrow night?"

Kat jerked in surprise, and frowned, what the hell was He trying to play. His motives were so unclear to her that she couldn't help but shake her head in denial. "Patrick just shut up." His eyes took on a hard edge and his lips thinned out into a frown, but he nodded accepting that this wasn't the time or place, and said later against her cheek.