Kat remembered the first time she'd read Romeo and Juliet. For all the hype, it really wasn't that great a read. She'd expected it to be some super-romantic, sweet, and classic love story – the kind that would bring the inner girl out of anyone – even Kat Stratford.
She'd read it during the summer after her freshman year as part of her summer reading requirements, thinking that hey – it may just as well have been the one good book she'd read over the summer. Two things struck her at once – firstly, the book was insanely sexist, and secondly, the book was insanely unrealistic.
For the love of God, Kat had thought, nobody – not even Romeo and Juliet – could fall in love that quickly. Romeo in general was someone she could spend days ranting about – he seemed to spend all his time moping and complaining – complaining eloquently, for that matter, but complaining nevertheless – about what an evil bitch love was. Meanwhile, Juliet was off in her own world spewing some crap about deflowering, and saying some five hundred lines that all equated to "I would rather die than lose Romeo."
And that's just the first day after they meet.
How anyone manages to fall in love in one day without even knowing each other's identity (until the bomb is dropped –surprise! You're in love with your mortal enemy!) – was beyond Kat. Besides, 'true love' and all that crap was fake – an image manufactured by Hollywood to get more gaggling girls to see their movies. There was no true love. She wasn't saying that love didn't exist, she was just saying that it wasn't that perfect, instant connection that everyone seemed to think it was.
Soul mates were bull – she highly doubted she would meet someone some day and just 'click'. What did exist, thought Kat, were two people who were compatible, who decided that they liked each other enough to overlook differences and try to change for each other. The term 'fall' in love was deceptive; it should've been 'grow into love', or something of the sort. Not nearly as romantic, but not nearly as ridiculous, either.
Why the hell Katherine Stratford was contemplating the ideologies of love, she didn't want to think about. Somewhere at the back of her mind lurked Patrick Verona, but she knew that was ridiculous. Her and Patrick Verona were probably the least compatible people ever. Half the time they couldn't stand each other. The other half…
You two are making out?
She pushed the thought away. That didn't have anything to do with anything, she thought. It was just…chemistry. She hated that term too, whoever thought of naming physical attraction after a subject having to do with mixing random liquids and gases deserved to sit in a chemistry lab all day trying to get two elements to 'click'.
She couldn't suppress the thought, though, that she had grown to like Patrick –if not love him (because, as she reminded herself, that was absolutely preposterous – they'd gone out on one date). And if she could grow to like –
Her thoughts were interrupted by Bianca, barging into her room.
"Well that," Bianca said, "Was a disaster."
Bianca had changed out of her date clothes and into her pajamas. Even though it was only 10:30, half an hour after the date had ended, Kat couldn't blame her for wanting to completely disassociate herself from what happened.
Kat winced. "There are always other guys."
"Yeah. I guess. But still! He was quarterback! I was really looking forward to this, too." She sighed. "I guess that's the last date I'm going on until college."
Kat rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Bianca, I'm sure plenty of guys would love to go out with you."
Bianca's face lightened. "Really?! You think so?!"
"Yes, I do. Come on, next Friday, let's go out again."
Kat felt really, really strange. Completely unlike herself, in fact. She tried to push away the fact that part – okay, almost all – of the reasons she wanted to go out was because of Patrick.
"Don't be ridiculous, Kat. Dad trusts Patrick. Well, as much as he could trust any guy, at least. You two can go out alone. Plus, I'd have no one to go with." She looked depressed again.
"How about that Calvin guy?"
"Who?"
"Really tall kid who follows you around like a stranded puppy?"
"Oh. Cameron." She shrugged, looking apprehensive. "Maybe."
"Come on. It can't be that bad, especially not compared—I mean, 'cause he's a great guy."
Bianca rolled her eyes. "It's okay Kat, we both know that Tommy was a disaster."
Kat winced. "Yeah."
"Maybe I will ask Cameron to go out sometime. But not next Friday."
"Why not?"
"Because next Friday," Bianca said, a hint of a wicked smile sliding onto her face, "You and Patrick are going to out aloooone. It'll be perfect, midway through dinner, he'll be struck by sudden realization. He'll wonder how he could have overlooked the fact that you two are soulmates."
She stood up with a flourish. "Then, a sparkle will come into his eyes. He'll realize that you're too special to give up."
Kat raised an eyebrow.
"Slowly but surely, he'll break down your barriers until you're in love with him too. Then, one day, while you two are watching the sun set on a beach somewhere, you'll admit your love for each other. It. Will. Be. Magical."
Kat blinked. "Firstly, we are not going to dinner. Secondly, Patrick does not have sudden realizations. Third, we're not soulmates. Fourth, what barriers? Fifth, eyes do not sparkle – I don't know where that delusion came from, but eyes don't sparkle! Glitter sparkles. Eyes don't. Sixth, there is nothing cornier than watching the sun set on a beach somewhere. And seventh, go watch the news."
Bianca looked affronted. "Well excuse me for being optimistic!"
"Optimistic?!" Kat scoffed, "More like unrealistic! Come on Bianca, face it, things like that don't happen in real life."
"Say that now," Bianca replied, full of self-assurance, "But don't say I didn't tell you when you and Patrick get married and ride off into the sunset."
Bianca shrugged and walked out of the room.
Kat wondered what the hell her sister was smoking.
***
You couldn't just label someone. Kat had learned that lesson all too well – no matter how shallow, unfeeling and stereotypical someone seemed, you couldn't label them. It was the mistake Hollywood made (then again, no one really cared about realism in movies nowadays) - everyone was labeled. Everyone was a cheerleader, or a jock. A geek, or too strong, or a pushover, a punk, an emo, or a badass. There were categories to the hilt.
But it was always more complicated than that. Bianca may have seemed like a shallow airhead preoccupied with popularity – and that she was – but there was more to her than that. Chastity Church may have seemed like just another mean, controlling, abusive head cheerleader, but somewhere down there, there was another side.
Somewhere, deep, deep down.
And Patrick Verona…well he may have seemed like a typical motorcycle riding bad boy with no concern for anyone or anything other than himself, but she couldn't lead herself to believe that anymore. It would have been so much easier just to label him as another asshole that objectified women, but she couldn't think of him as that anymore.
And as for herself, Kat thought, well that was a whole other dimension. In a way, she thought, she had been trying to put herself in the very box she insisted shouldn't have existed. While Kat would prefer to think of herself as a headstrong feminist who didn't like anyone or anything get to her, this was only true to a point.
Kat thought of the last time she'd let herself feel something other than scorn and mistrust for the other gender, and then winced, and tried not to think of that.
She couldn't just write Patrick off anymore, she thought, just like she couldn't write off what was between them as 'just physical attraction'. She couldn't write him off as a jackass looking for a good time, just like she couldn't write herself off as immune to his advances.
It all came down to whether or not she trusted him. There were two ways to look at the situation, one being a lot more attractive than the other. The first was that he was a douche who was just trying to add Kat to a list of conquests – in it simply because she was a challenge, more fun to chase than the girls already slaving after him.
The second was a lot harder to accept, and a lot easier to push away. The second meant that Kat's willpower, judgment and rationality meant nothing anymore. The second was that Patrick Verona actually gave a crap about her, and that maybe she gave a crap back.
***
To Kat, Monday morning dawned with apprehension as if the sun knew what Kat was feeling. To Kat, Monday dawned with meaning, too, as if it knew that boxes were being broken out of that day and boundaries were being crossed.
And yet to anyone else looking out there window at six AM on Monday morning, it dawned just like any other day. Monday morning proved that you could only see some things when you were looking for them.
***