Chapter one.
I woke today with the sound of someone going through my stuff. The someone was getting louder. They dropped something. I let out a growl and then pushed the covers that were over my head off to look up and find Patrick Verona roaming trough my underwear drawer and holding up my sexy underpants. I cleared my throat to get his attention.
It did not seem to faze him that I was watching him roam through my unmentionables. "Why haven't I seen you in these yet?" he asked. Threw the sheets off me entirely and marched across the room to take them from his hands.
"You will never see my in these. And what makes you think you have the right touch any of the contents in this drawer?" I say to him.
"At least I was touching the ones in the drawer and not the ones you have on." He said back in his deep, sexy, annoying at the same time voice. I looked down to see I was only in a tank top and some underwear. They were not modest looking either. They were lacy and black and had a little pink bow on the front. I rushed over to my big comfortable chair in the corner holding on to my robe.
I wrapped the robe around me quickly and yelled; "Get out!"
"Alright Stratford." I opened the window for him to leave. He began to climb out the window when he suddenly turned back to give me a quick peck on the cheek then dashed out the window. I stood there for a few seconds hand pressed lightly to the spot where his lips were a few seconds ago, trying to hold the warmth of them to my face. Then I shook this off a went to get ready.
Once done preparing myself for school I went down stairs to eat breakfast. Bianca was sitting at the table with headphones on her head listening to Kesha my idiotic sister's idea of sound. She then looked up from her bowl of cereal to look at me, making a face of distaste, and pulled one of her earplugs out her ear.
"You're not actually going to school like that are you?" she asked. I looked down at myself I was wearing my favorite jeans (vintage) an open flannel shirt with a Arctic Monkeys tee shirt on the inside. My boots on my feet. I looked up at her.
"Yes. Why what's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she looked me up and down while she rose from her chair at the table. She Walked over to me.
"Take of the flannel. Take your hair out of the ponytail. And if you go up stairs and but on your chucks instead of your combat boots you my just have Verona asking you out today." She said to me.
"What does he have to do with anything?" I asked. While slipping out of my flannel.
"Ugh. Everything Kat." She said to me. "He is most defiantly the only guy that will survive a date with you."
"That's not true. And why would I need to go on a date anyways?" I asked
"Because. Joey wants to take me to his house to night. And I need dad to be distracted by you and the deep voiced man boy so that I can go with dad freaking over you, instead of me." She replied
"Oh I see. " Was my only reply. I slipped my flannel shirt back on. I went into the kitchen, poured myself a bowl of granola, and poured my vanilla silk milk on top. When I was done eating, I ran up stairs to grab my backpack. In addition to decided that I would change into my chucks. Only because I felt like it. Not for the benefit of having Verona asking me out.
"Kat, hurry up. I don't want to be late." Bianca yelled up to me. I flung my bag over my shoulder grabbed the keys to the Volvo and bounded down stairs. I walked out the door and left it for her to lock with her key while I got in the car and started it and turned on my iPod. When Bianca got in I had Cold War Kids blaring in my speakers.
We arrived to the school quickly and as soon as I parked, Bianca was out of the car and in the arms of Joey Donner. I turned up the music more, shut my eyes, and listen to the not so sweet sound of Bjök Its oh so quiet. When there is a tap on my window. Patrick of course. I rolled down my window.
"Isn't a little early to be lurking?" I questioned.
"I wasn't lurking. I was just coming over to ask how long you stood in the same spot after I gave you that little smooch." He replied.
"I-I didn't stand in the same spot. After you left I got ready promptly." I said in return.
"Ah, I see your trying to act like I didn't thrill you a little with," he leaned in "the warm" he leaned in a little more. I could smell the cinnamon and tobacco on his tongue. "Soft feeling of my lips," he brushed his hand across my cheek. "Against your skin." His voice was husky, and tempting.
"I'm not acting sweetheart, I'm telling you the god to honest truth. Now will please take two steps away from my car so I can get out?" I said. He walked not only two steps but also all the way up on to the sidewalk. I shook my head at my slight disappointment that he did not wait for me. I got out of the car and slammed the door.
First period was a bore. I walked to my locker to switch my books when I saw a piece of notebook paper sticking out of my locker. I opened my locker then open the note. It read:
Arctic Monkeys are playing tomorrow night. I'll leave your ticket on the windowsill.
Pat.
Arctic Monkeys! How did he know they were my favorite band? Then I looked down at my shoes and noticed my tee shirt. How could I think that he and I actually had the same interest in the same good music? I slammed my locker shut after retrieving my books.
The next day I sat in the lunch quad eating an apple listening to No Cars Go and reading a book on arranged marriage in the Middle East. When a muscular floppy haired boy sits next to me and takes an earplug out of my ear.
"Hey." I protest.
"So what do you say?" he asked. I took another bite of my apple.
"About what?" I said around the apple.
"About you, me, and some freezing apes." He clarified.
"Ah, I say no." And with that, I rose from the table throwing away the core of my apple. Pocketing my iPod and taking my book in my hands. I began to walk toward my next class, fully aware that Verona was close on my tale.
"And why the hell not?" he called after me.
"I don't think you could grasp the intensity of their music the way I grasp it. There for I would be there enjoying music and then you would be there trying to get into the pants of the hot chick stand next to you."
"I understand their music just fine." He replied
"Oh okay. What is your favorite song by them?" I asked
"'Fluorescent Adolescent." Funny that was my favorite.
"Okay what is so great about that song?" trying not to lose my judging demeanor.
"The whole concept of how time can completely change things. Sometimes for the worst." He moved a strand of hair back behind my ear and out of my face. "Sometimes for the best." He looked me dead in the eyes for a few seconds. However, it felt like a good solid hour. And I noticed that Patrick Verona had to have had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They were dark chocolate brown, but black was playing on the iris to give them an amazing twist. And then he goes and ruins my discovery with the comment "And the video is cool."
I looked down at my boots pretending to decide whether to go with him. The truth was I had already decided about twenty seconds ago. "Pick me up at eight." And with that, I turned to face the torments that gym class had in store for me.
Later that night I sat in my room and worked on my song. I had the perfect melody. I just needed to work on the words. I strummed the guitar, and then thought.
I have a secret. That I wanna tell you. And my little secret. It's all about-
The end of my writers block was ended when a sharp tap was placed on my window. I walked over to the window and opened it.
"You." I said
"Me." Patrick replied.
"ugh. I was just getting over my writers block when you came a tap-tapping on my window." I said adding as much venom as possible to what I was saying. We walked over and picked up the piece of paper that I was writing on.
"is this the creation that I ruined?" he asked raising a brow. I shook my head yes. He picked up my guitar and started strumming the chords. I turned on my heel to lock my door so my dad or Bianca would stumble in to find the deep voiced man boy sitting in my bedroom. "So are you gonna do the talent show?" he asked, still strumming. I laughed mockingly.
"Ha. You're joking right?"
"No I think song has some major potential." He replied
"I can't. I have enough stage fright to feed a third world country for a year." I said back
"Oh, okay well let's go."
"Go? Go where?" I asked.
"To go see Arctic Monkeys." He said then looked down at my sweatshirt and wholly gym shorts. "You should hurry up and get dressed." I turned to do pick out what I was going to wear. He sat down in my chair and started to strum on my guitar again. I decided to wear the tee shirt from the first concert I saw of them, and my favorite jeans. I knew Patrick saw that I was ready to get dressed but he just sat there.
"Could you please avert your eyes while I change?" I asked. He didn't say anything just slipped out the window. I slipped my gym shorts of, grabbed my jeans off the bed, and pulled them on. Then off came my sweatshirt, on came my tee shirt. I sat down on the bed to put on my socks.
"Hey is it okay if I light up out here?" Patrick asked cigarette in hand.
"No! And you really shouldn't smoke." I said standing up from the bed to put on my belt. Patrick came back through the window.
"Oh, don't tell me you protest against smoking to." He said a joking tone to his voice, but he crossed his arms for show. I turned to face him with a serious look on my face.
"No. It's just my mom died from emphysema. I don't want to see—"I paused. what should I saw to not show that I had slight feelings for him? "You do that to the ones who care about you." I turned back around to pull on my north face jacket.
"Are you one of those who care about me Stratford?" he asked in a quiet voice. It would have been considered cute if I hadn't been dreading the day he would ask that particular question. I turned around to face him, zipping up my jacket in the process, then took a deep breath.