10 Things I Hate About You and all its wonderful characters aren't mine. I just like the write about them, haha. :)

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Rewind.
What just happened?

He kissed me, more than once to be exact, and I was close to being speechless.

Ha, me… speechless...? That takes skill, I'll give him that. Really, kudos to Patrick Verona for reminding me that I'm a hormonal teenager. I bet he's beyond proud of himself.

But, how did he, unbeknownst to me and surely not by my own actions, get the impression that I'm that kind of girl?

The girl who doesn't give a damn about the world around her, as long as she had a boy to drape herself on.

The girl who would spend all night with him on the roof, just hooking up, rather than helping out the shaken and scared people downstairs.

The girl who wasn't worrying that every remaining piece of her mother's existence could be burnt up in flames that very moment.

I could have sworn I told him different. Right before he ran me over with that steel death trap of his a few weeks back, I told him that I wasn't the kind of girl to dedicate my diary to his existence, all because he was mysterious and full of secrets.

Oh, but I could see through him now. No longer was he the dark and brooding delinquent that I found slightly interesting. Instead, he had morphed into just a normal teenager, looking for a quick fix with whatever girl gave him the least amount of trouble. I guess he thought I was that girl then, huh?

I should have known when the brunette- a step up from the blonde I saw on the back of his bike- popped up. He wasn't serious. He was incapable of being serious. All he could do was flirt. How typical. Just another petty high school boy.

Yet, sitting here on the steps, waiting for Bianca, I can't get him out of my head. Did he just expect me to follow along with this wonderfully crafted plan of his? Did he even think that maybe I was like other girls… that I did, deep down, want that Prince Charming storybook ending he had found so ridiculous? I didn't dare say it out loud, but I did want it, complete with the red roses and bow-wrapped chocolates.

He wasn't going to give me that, which he had proved just moments ago. He wasn't interested in anything more than a few stolen moments in the janitor's closet between first and second period.

And people wonder why I'm such a feminist. Isn't it obvious? The male population has the mental capacity of a four year old and the emotional level of monkey. Yet they can jerk around girls and play with their heart in ways that even the smartest woman can't understand, let alone evade. I can't drink legally or even vote so how exactly am I supposed to avoid the tricks and traps of the male species?

Especially Verona's method, with his bad boy, Clint Eastwood sort of air and that "I'm dangerous, yet very misunderstood" attitude. After all I've been through, you'd expect me to at least be a little wary of that behavior. But, just like the other girls that he'd tricked through the years, I'd fallen for it, swooning over that brooding persona.

A really idiotic move… something Bianca would do, not me. I'm Kat Stratford- people are afraid of me, which Captain Intensity had so politely pointed out. Why had I let him get to me? Why had I let him win? Here I was, trying to prove to anyone who would listen (and yes, sometimes to those that weren't so interested) that all women weren't the same transparent, shallow pieces of ass that the media portrayed them as, yet I had gone and done the exact opposite. The old Kat was out the door, replaced by this emotional I-want-Patrick clone. Mother of God, I have really lost myself. As if the brushfire threatening Mom's memories wasn't enough, now I have this on my conscience.

With that wonderful revelation, I certainly wasn't in the best of moods to deal with old bitty that yet again appeared to gush over my so called 'boyfriend'. Before, when she had accused me of 'undressing' him with my eyes, I had thought it was cute. Now? Not so much. The last thing I wanted to discuss was Patrick Verona, but when she informs me about something he left for me, I can't help but be curious. Rather than leave behind little presents, I expect him to be angry and pull the 'keep our distance' bit again, considering I did just finish blasting him.

And I refuse to feel guilty about it. I'm definitely not going to feel guilty for screaming at him, ruining his moment… not guilty, not guilty, not guilty. I do not feel guilty.

Jesus, why is it so hard to make myself believe that? He was the one that pulled the noncommittal card on me. It should be the other way around- him feeling bad, not me.

I. do. not. feel. guilty.

When the elderly woman points over to a table around the corner, I focus on trying to stop myself from running over there to see what's there. It's like I'm a little kid at Christmas and Patrick's Santa Claus. Except he's probably left me something he picked up at the Dollar Store, rather than anything of actual value.

Sitting on the table is a black crate, one that looks pretty familiar. He didn't… he couldn't… Running my fingers over it, I look to find all of my records- the very ones that Verona had gone through before- perfectly safe from the fire. Padua's resident bad boy had broken into her house, not once, but twice that night without so much as setting off a single alarm or alerting the police. How did he do it?

My fingers gravitate toward the Beatles album that earlier he had found so intriguing. Taped to the front is a hastily scribbled note: "Looks like your memories aren't burning up after all. Next time, you'll need a better excuse to walk away. – Prince Charming"

I laugh before I realize what exactly his note entails.

A next time.

I'm not that kind of girl.

Well, unless he lives up to that Prince Charming nickname.
Then I am definitely that girl.

fin.

I just hated how ABC Family ended the latest 10 Things episode. I got really annoyed and I wanted to recreate it so Ethan Peck didn't look like such a horrible guy, haha. Hopefully it turned out like that.

The title comes from the song of the same name by The Filthy Souls. (Sound familiar?) I thought it would be appropriate, since Kat isn't much like herself in the latest episode.

Oh, and sorry if it doesn't make much sense to those of you who haven't seen the latest episode. Once you see the episode it should make sense. (Hope I didn't ruin anything!)

Please review and gimme some feedback! :)

Thank you for reading.