Disclaimer: I own nothing. The song belongs to Taylor Swift. I just like to imagine.

One Moment

Baby I was naïve, got lost in your eyes

And never really had a chance

I had so many dreams about you and me

Happy endings, now I know

--Taylor Swift

It took a second for him to infuriate me. It took a minute for him to irritate me. It took him a few minutes to make me angry. It took him an hour to enter my dreams. It took him days for me to like him. It took him a week for me to trust him. It took him months for me to love him. It took one moment for him to break me.

I remember that day. It started the same they all did. I woke up, annoyed Bianca with my clothes and promised my father that I wouldn't get pregnant. I saw him in the parking lot and smiled. Every morning since we started officially dating he'd come up to me and give me a carnation. Since I'd given mine away from Bianca's little pom-pom foundation. He completely ignored me walking away as if I didn't exist. No carnation.

I thought maybe he'd been having a bad day. Patrick is very . . . emotionally unstable. One minute he's perfectly content and next he's ripping off your head. Or he's kissing you senseless then hating you. I'd learned to deal with the whiplash. He just needed space.

He wasn't at lunch. I sat with Mandella and her girlfriend. Sugar or whatever her name was, was still acting as if I was planning on stealing Mandella out from under her nose. I figured maybe he'd got held back after class. That happened a lot. Teachers here will keep you late for sneezing to loud.

He sat in his old seat in English. Five desks diagonal to mine, all the way in the back next to the window. Instead of listening to Miss. Preppy Blonde I stared forlornly at his usual seat next to me. I had no explanation for this.

I'd caught up to him later in the afternoon, cornering him in the empty Auto Shop. Honestly concerned I asked what was wrong today. NOTHING, he snapped at me. I never being one for going down without a fight asked again and for the truth this time. "I don't have to tell you everything. I'm my own person Kat and sadly I'm not your little pet that you carry around in your pocket. Leave me alone." Depressed and rejected I pushed him back into a wall. He pushed me back. Maybe out of reflex. Staring up at him I cowered when he reached for me. He raced out of the garage. Maybe he just didn't care.

He'd never pushed me before. Every touch we've ever shared was tender and caring or friendly and trustworthy or nonchalant and meaningless. We'd never physically fought each other. My hopeful brain could find no explanation other than maybe he hadn't meant to. But the logical part of me whispered, maybe he didn't care as much as I thought.

I lay in my bed late trying to ignore the facts. My tears came down slowly and I didn't try to stop them. I was silent though. Bianca's room was being painted and she slept on the other side of my bed. I couldn't help but remember the times when a very different body had occupied that same spot.

Another day passed and he never approached me. He sat in the back, far way from me in every class. He brought me no carnation. He ignored me as if the last couple months had never existed. Like I meant nothing. He was at lunch. When I approached him with an apple and a hesitant smile he got up and left. I dumped the apple and ran to the bathroom. Sinking down into the corner near the sinks away from all public eyes I bawled.

I'd been to his house once. His mother was a stripper and his dad was gone. I hated going there because his mother enjoyed bringing the club back to the house if you know what I mean. But I needed him. I needed the old him and maybe if I went to him he'd change back.

His mom was having a party apparently and had brought all her stripper friends. The loud music could be heard for blocks. I stopped on the sidewalk looking up at the house. It was bigger than my own surprising because she was a stripper and my dad was doctor.

Just as I was going to try his ground floor window he stumbled out the door . . . with two strippers in tow. They were wearing lingerie or so it's called. Theirs was more of a few pieces of fabric strategically placed. He had no shirt on and his face was red in the aftermath. He had an arm wrapped around each of them and a car pulled up. He shrugged them into the car with a goodbye kiss each.

I felt myself break. This wasn't a figurative thing. I felt my organs shut off and brain cloud up. I felt as my heart shattered in my chest impaling me with the pieces. But I couldn't move. I watched him watch them go. I watched him turn around with a cocky grin on his face. He looked at me the grin sliding off his face. He took a step towards me and I stepped back on reflex. He reached a hand out towards me with a pleading guilty look on his face.

"Let me explain. Please I just need a moment." A moment. I turned slowly and walked away. He called after me. I turned back to him remembering something. I wrenched the chain from around my neck breaking the clasp. It was a glass heart. He'd bought it for me. He'd come closer until he was only a few feet away from me. I numbly dropped it on the ground. He jumped at the crash. I didn't. Walking away I smiled as I realized a piece of glass from the crash was impaled in my leg. I left it there. I walked away slowly. I remember those days. Those two days that Patrick Verona broke my heart. So many hours and days spent dreaming of him. So many weeks of loving him. And all it took was one moment to ruin it. To break me . . . all he needed was a moment.

A/N

I'll kill Patrick if he attempts to actually do this.

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