A/N: So this is my first fanfic so please be kind. All reviews are welcome, and constructive criticism would be awesome. Thanks!
I do not own 10 Things I Hate About You, I simply speculate with the characters.
Well this was a terrific ending to another day in my glorious life, sitting on the couch watching a documentary on the exciting life of Sylvia Plath, an amazing feminist writer who eventually ended up killing herself. Lovely. And to make matters worse every commercial break has the new Levi's commercial with the young leather-clad Marlon Brando standing next to his motorcycle which only serves to make me make unwanted comparisons between the dangerously gorgeous Brando and a certain classmate of mine. Sigh. I switch off the TV and head upstairs. My dad is already asleep because he has go get up ungodly early to deliver some 16 year old's baby, which will no doubt send him into a week long rant about the evils of sex. Terrific.
I walk down the hall to the bathroom and find it occupied by Bianca, as usual. I heave a sigh and head to my room ready for a good nights sleep. That's what I need. A little rest will cure this case of the blues for sure. I walk to my dresser and pull out a pair of sweat pants to sleep in and proceed to put them on. I then grab a hair tie from my nightstand and pull my hair back, continuing my nightly routine. I sit on my bed for a second and realize that I am restless; I can't possibly sleep like this. At times like these my bookshelf is usually my best hope. I skim the titles of numerous feminist works before snatching my worn out copy of Pride and Prejudice, my one concession to being girly, and head back to bed getting ready to settle in for a lovely tryst with when I hear an odd noise near my window. It's a tree branch, it must be. Wait…there are no trees on this side of the house. Shit. There it is again, a tapping noise. Oh my god, someone is outside my window. I quietly throw my book on my bed and reach for the baseball bat in the corner, a relic from my little league softball days and nervously approach the window.
Oh, why do I always keep my curtains closed? Stupid. Stupid. Okay, I can do this. I stay to the side and reach for the edge of the curtain as the tapping persists. Okay, just do it fast, like a band-aid, I coach myself. By this time the nervous feeling in my stomach has gone from butterflies to bats and I feel like I can't breathe. I should call for my dad. No. I can handle this; it's probably just a squirrel… or an axe murderer. Okay, here it goes. I rip open the curtain ready for anything. Anything except Patrick Verona.
I hyperventilate for a moment before I realize that I am still clutching the bat and that Patrick is still outside my window, smirking in that way he does when he thinks that he's got me. I ignore the butterflies in my stomach and put the bat down crouching to open the window.
"What are you doing!?" I hiss, "Are you trying to scare me to death, what is the matter with you and what are you doing outside my window? Are you stalking me, cause this seems a little obsessive to me."
"Calm down Kat I just wanted to come talk to you."
"Shh! If my dad wakes up I'm dead and so are you. Now what do you want?"
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asks.
"Absolutely not!" But my protests go unheeded as he climbs through my window to stand next to me. And all of the sudden my once spacious room seems the size of a matchbox. Is he really that tall? Answer: yup.
"Patrick what do you think you are doing? Talk now so that you can go back out that window before I have to go get that baseball bat and make you leave."
He ignores the threat. Typical.
"So tomorrow night is that stupid lock in thing at the school." He says.
"Yeah, and?"
"Are you going?"
"No."
"Well you should."
"Why?"
Before I get an answer the worst thing possible happens. Bianca walks in. Perfect.
"Oh Kat." She says, "You are so busted!"