"What the hell are you doing here?" Kat whispered furiously, "Is terrorizing people in the dead of night a family thing or something?"

Patrick looked at her calmly. "I needed to talk to you."

Kat stared at him. "And it couldn't wait 7 hours until school tomorrow?"

Patrick shrugged. "No one's ever snuck into your house bef--"

"That's exactly what your cousin said!"

Right on cue, Sophie said, "Patrick, Dad's going to kill you!"

He glared at her. "Me?! He's going to kill you, too! At least I have something I want to talk to her about! What's your excuse?"

"Well maybe," she said, shooting Patrick a glare, "I have something to talk to her about too."

They seemed to have forgotten that a rapidly panicking Kat was there.

If Dad finds out about this, he will take away my door and nail boards to the windows. He'll never let me out of the house again! More importantly, what the hell do they have to talk to me about?

Kat tried to tune out the argument going around her, but it was hard as hell, considering that they sounded like they were arguing about a major catastrophe.

"Oh yeah?" Patrick shot back, "What, exactly, do you need to discuss with a person you've met once over breakfast that's so important that involved sneaking out of the house?!"

Sophie looked at him. "You."

Kat nearly fell off the bed. "You know," she said, "I'm going to go to the bathroom now. Try and keep it down. If my dad wakes up, there are no words to describe how, utterly screwed we are."

Kat went into the bathroom and shut the door, taking deep breaths. What she hadn't anticipated was the door being highly un-soundproof. Or the fact that she could hear everything they were saying, whether she wanted to or not.

"Sophie," Patrick was saying, "What the hell were you going to talk to Kat about?!"

Kat cringed. At least, she thought, they weren't shouting. Thank God, she thought, her father's room was all the way down the hall – Kat smiled guiltily as she remembered him saying that he needed to keep a closer eye on Bianca than Kat.

"I already told you! I needed to talk to her about you!"

Kat's head was spinning. Sophie snuck into my house to talk to me about Patrick. Patrick snuck into my house to talk about…?

What the hell was going on?

"Oh," Patrick retorted, his tone practically overrunning with sarcasm, "Because I'm mute and can't do that myself."

Sophie narrowed her eyes. "Because that worked so well last time."

Kat winced at the memory.

"You know," Sophie said with such ferocity that Kat was immediately reminded of the way Patrick spoke when he was really, really angry, "She is the first girl you've had over who I've actually heard you mention again, after! And I know for a fact that you're not going to be able to talk that through with anyone, much less her!"

Kat's heart sped up, and she bit her lip. She wasn't sure how to respond – there was confusion, as always, and a small bit of apprehension. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. She was being compared to other girls – other girls that hadn't stayed for breakfast. Who'd –

It hit her, then, what Sophie was talking about. Kat felt a combination of horror and a strange, warped desire to laugh.

Sophie thought they'd slept together. Kat groaned.

Patrick sounded different when he spoke again. "Yeah, well, she was hungover as fuck, I wasn't going to just kick her out of the house."

"Really, Patrick? Is that the only reason?"

Kat held her breath, asking the same question.

Patrick didn't answer.

Kat shook her head and opened the door of the bathroom as loudly as possible. It worked – they both turned to stare at her.

"Today," she said, "I learned that my bathroom door is not soundproof."

They both cringed, and Kat felt a tiny amount of satisfaction at the horror on their faces.

Kat turned to face Sophie. "I know what you think we did that night," she said, shaking her head, "But we didn't do that. It. Anything."

She frowned. "Well. We did something, but not--" – she gestured a bit wildly – "—that."

Kat tried to focus on Sophie and not look, speak to, or even think about Patrick. "And besides, you're looking at this way out of perspective. This is high school, not 'One Tree Hill'. It's not as if the world is going to end if--"

Sophie cut her off. "You two are just like each other, you know that? All about perspective and how it's just high school and how none of this actually matters and how everyone takes everything too seriously and how 'it's only dramatic if you make it dramatic'.

"Well yeah, okay, some people do see things out of perspective, and, yeah, some people are too serious about things that they should just let go of, but at least those people can say they truly know what life is like! You guys have obviously never heard the phrase 'carpe diem'!

"At least people who make everything dramatic and over the top get to be happy – actually happy – when something good happens, just because they've been upset. You can't actually be happy unless you've been truly upset, just like you can't actually feel love if you've never been hurt, or cried, or died inside. So yeah, maybe perspective is good, and maybe I'm just being an ridiculous here – so yeah, go ahead and call me an idiot and a drama queen – but if everything in life is just to get you closer to dying, you might as well make the lows as low as possible just so the highs are worth getting to."

She stared at them both for a minute and then climbed out of the window.

Kat shook her head and sat down on the bed. She lay down, her lower legs dangling over the edge.

How, she thought, was she supposed to respond to a speech that put into words everything she'd been trying to escape from all her life?

It was funny – in a rather non-amusing way – ironic would be a better word, how when someone close to you died, everything was put in perspective for you. There wasn't anything you had to do – there was nothing you could do.

She bit her lip. "Patrick?"

He was just standing there – where he'd been after Sophie had left – looking at her with a curious expression on his face. She felt a pang of appreciation at the fact that he hadn't left.

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

"This seems to happen a lot, doesn't it?"

"What, us ending up alone together in the middle of the night?" He smirked at her.

She looked at him and smiled, and then asked the question that she'd been itching to ask for ages. "Was what she said true?"

Patrick's smirk faded. He seemed to consider something for a moment, and then, slowly, said, "She said a lot of things."

"Was any of it true?"

"Yes."

"Was all of it true?"

She held her breath, and – even though she'd never admit it – crossed her fingers behind her back.

There was a slight pause.

"Yes."

Kat blinked, wondering whether or not to ask one last question. She'd been lucky so far – and if she really didn't like his answer, there was always the taser, she joked to herself. She closed her eyes and jumped. Carpe diem, right?

"Was everything you said true?"

There was a longer, more agonizing silence.

"No."

She frowned. "What wasn't?"

He sighed. "If I answer this, will you answer a question of mine?"

Kat groaned. "Fine. What was the lie?"

"I told her I just let you stay because you were hungover."

Realization, Kat thought, could be two things. It could be like dropping a boulder off a cliff – fast, harsh and practically knocking you off your feet. But this time, realization felt different. It was like sand in an hourglass, filtering through slowly, or like a jigsaw puzzle, coming together at once.

Happiness could be like that too, she thought, setting in slowly with the realization. She turned to Patrick and smiled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Your turn to be put in the examination seat," he said, and smirked.

Kat laughed softly. "Here we go."

"Were you surprised?"

Kat blinked, confused. "About what?"

"My answers." He shook his head. "To your many, many, endless, infinite questions."

Kat rolled her eyes. "I…was surprised, yes."

Patrick nodded, and then dropped on to the bed with her, his legs also over the edge. Kat felt as if they were on some misplaced, upside down and sideways swingset.

"That thing you said earlier today," Kat said suddenly.

"What thing I said earlier today?"

"That thing…" Kat hesitated. "About whether you were coming for Bianca or me."

Patrick nodded. "Yeah?"

"Unfortunately," she said, and then thought for a moment. "Bianca's already got someone coming for her. She'll be…" she coughed suggestively – "occupied that night."

Patrick smiled. "Shame," he said, "I guess I'll have to settle for you."

She sat up and threw a pillow at him.

"Aren't we a bit old for pillow fights?"

She sighed, and, unwilling to argue with him, changed the topic. "Your cousin."

"What about her?"

"Do you think she's angry with me? Or you?"

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Probably not. She's usually like that – she wants a career in the performing arts, and, let's face it, has some dramatic tendencies. So yeah, she probably meant what she said," Patrick continued, "But she's probably not upset. In fact, she's probably thinking to herself right now about what a great speech that was."

Kat raised her eyebrows.

"And," Patrick acknowledged, "She's usually right."

Kat laughed. "Damn her," she said.

"I'll tell her you said that."

Kat scoffed at him and climbed into bed again, trying to salvage the rest of what would have been a sleep-filled night. She tried not to feel a tingle of pleasant surprise when she felt Patrick slide in next to her.

"You are such a jerk," she said, as he threw an arm lazily around her.

"I know," he said.

"I can't believe you."

"I know."

"I hate you…" she trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in midair.

There was a pause.

"That's a shame."

Another pause.

Kat hesitated, and then finished her thought. "Sometimes."

Patrick smiled. "We're even, then."

***

"Kat."

Someone was saying her name.

She groaned.

"Kat."

Whoever it was shook her.

"No…stop…sleep," she mumbled.

"Oh my God, you're dad is coming," she heard the voice say.

She sat up suddenly, desire to sleep gone. Various escape plans ran through her head.

Patrick Verona smirked at her. "You would wake up when I say that."

She groaned. "Whattimeisit?"

"Half past five," he said.

"Why am I awake? Why are you awake? I swear to God, Patrick, I'm going to be falling asleep in all my classes today. If I fail my math test because of you, Verona, there will be hell to pay. I mean that!" she added, when Patrick opened his mouth – no doubt to make a snide comment – "I do!"

"Hold your horses. I just woke you up to say good morning. And bye."

Kat shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "You're leaving?"

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Well," he said, "If you'd like, I can stay for breakfast. Me and your family could have a nice little chat over breakfast. Your dad and I could probably talk about the day's newspaper, his job, oh, and why the hell I was in his daughter's room--"

Kat laughed rather psychotically.

"Get out."

---

A/N: This was a tricky chapter to write – much like chapter six – because we've never really seen Kat or Patrick get actually emotional. There was a tiny hint of it in Light My Fire and Dance, Little Sister, but not that much, so I'm worried that I may have been OOC at times.

Anyways, thanks for all the comments; it's incredibly motivating :)