Disclaimer: I'm a poor college student, please don't sue me. Besides, I'm making diddly squat off this. The Matrix and many of these characters belongs to Warner Bros., Wachowski brothers and company. I'm just.....borrowing some of them for fun.
Chapter 1
*three years earlier*
It had started out as a hobby, a way to escape reality. Catherine hated going to the school's library because she hated the way the librarians kept an eye on everything, as if they were waiting for her to steal one of their precious books. The head librarian marched around the shelves and tables on patrol and even had a German accent. That led the kids to dub her the Book Nazi. She was especially harsh on the quiet ones, watching them like a hawk. It was as if she could sense a student's outsider status and decided to capitalize on it. Like a predator, she always went after the weak ones.
Catherine was one of those outsiders. On one hand, she envied the girls who had the nice hair, the stylish clothes, the rich boyfriends, and who got invited to all of the parties. She could have easily fitted in; she had long legs, short dark hair, light and clear skin, and an angular face. Watching the popular girls reminded her of what her life could have been if her parents hadn't gotten divorced when she was eight. Before the divorce, Catherine had been a happy, carefree child. She had the best of everything: big house with a swimming pool, soccer practice, and a chest full of toys. Her mother always brushed her hair and read her bedtime stories. Her father was colder, less attentive, but Catherine assumed that he was just busy. She rarely saw him anyways so it didn't matter, he was always out late and never came back before she was asleep.
Then her dad decided that he needed a younger, skankier trophy wife and since Catherine's mom signed a pre-nup, divorce was a win-win situation for him. He practically tossed them out of the house. Catherine's mom came home after picking their daughter up from swimming lessons to find her bags on the lawn and one of her shoes acting as a paperweight for the divorce papers. Catherine had never seen her mother so upset. She couldn't understand the situation. What happened? What did her mother mean when she said that they had to leave? Where was her father?
On the other hand, Catherine was too proud and independent to want to be popular. She saw how all of the girls kissed ass just to be liked, and then once they became popular, they turned around and stabbed each other in the back. It was all just a stupid game of king of the hill. And for what? So that the popular guys, who played the same game, would notice them. The whole idea made Catherine want to puke.
Since her parents' divorce, she had pretty much survived on her own. Her mother moved back in with her parents for a while, trying to save up enough money to get a run-down apartment. The divorce had left her penniless and without marketable job skills. She never imagined that her ex-husband would replace her one day without warning. Everyone always said that once you married a rich guy, you'd be set for life. She was pretty enough and naïve enough to believe that she could do just that. It hadn't worked out as planned though. She wasn't supposed to get pregnant, wasn't supposed to lose her figure, wasn't supposed to age. He had thrown a fit when she told him that she was pregnant, shattering one of the living room vases against the wall and storming out of the house. She didn't know what to do except clean up the mess and cry herself to sleep. He came back two nights later, saying that she could remain his wife and that she must keep the baby-he was Catholic and an abortion was out of the question. However, he would have nothing to do with the child, he didn't want it in the first place. Catherine's mother thought that the worst was over, and that they would live happily ever after. She was twenty-one at the time.
Divorced at thirty, Catherine's mom used her charms to get a job as a waitress at a local bar. She always offered whatever she earned in tips to Catherine, so that she could go do "fun things," but Catherine always refused, knowing how much they needed to keep up with rent and food. They couldn't afford nice things like Nike shoes and Roxy jeans, which made Catherine an outsider at school. Catherine, at age ten, started taking money under the table for cleaning out storerooms for local shops. She never had time to develop friendships because she was either working or learning. Or rather, she was searching, searching for a way to get back to where she used to be: happy, loved, and innocent. She started reading books and putting up with school librarians, thinking that education was the way out. She tried reading "the classics" but found them boring and inscrutable. Literature had too many meanings and interpretations; there was nothing concrete about it. She turned to other areas. At age eleven, her teachers discovered that she was mathematically gifted, and started placing her in higher math classes. By the time she was in junior high, she was taking geometry with the high school kids across the street. This only caused her to become even more of an outcast. She was not only the poor, weird girl, she was also a nerd, a freak.
Catherine learned quickly how uncaring the world could be. When she found out why her parents had gotten a divorce, she became even more cynical and rebellious. She saw her father for the shallow hypocrite he was, and vowed that she would never be as naïve as her mother. She would be strong and capable of taking care of herself. She would never make the same mistake her mother did, leaving her life in the hands of others only to be blindsided by her own foolishness.
Her quest for stable knowledge eventually led her past math and into computers. The high school library got its first computer lab when she was in seventh grade and taking geometry with sophomores. On the way to math class, she saw the new computers through the window. Students were typing diligently while the Book Nazi paced at the end of the room, giving out instructions. Catherine looked around, saw that no one was paying attention to her as usual, and crept up against the window to watch.
Most of the kids looked bored as they practiced typing words like "car," "card," "care," "carp," and so on. One kid, though, was doing something else. Catherine couldn't see what he was doing, but he was completely absorbed in it. So much so, that he didn't notice that the Book Nazi had stopped until she shouted out, "Joseph! What do you think you're doing?"
"Uhhhhh......," said the unfortunate student, looking around wildly for an excuse. He happened to look out the window and caught Catherine peeking in. The Book Nazi followed his gaze and saw her too.
"Uh oh," thought Catherine as she ducked and scooted away from the window. The bell had rung ten minutes ago-Catherine was usually late to class-and she didn't want to be caught outside without a hall pass. She rounded the corner just as the computer lab door opened.
"Hey! Young lady, where's your pass? Hey!"
But she was already gone.
After class was over, Catherine packed up her books and headed back toward the junior high, making sure to pass by the library. The kids from the computer class were just trickling out of the side door. Catherine watched them until that boy-Joseph was his name?-saw her and started coming toward her.
"Shit," thought Catherine, hunching her shoulders and speeding up her walk. He caught up to her anyways.
"Hi," he said, giving her a smile.
"Hi," she grumbled back.
"What's with the attitude?"
"You almost got me in trouble. You coming back for more?"
"Oh, sorry about that," he said, giving her a sheepish grin. "I had to get the Book Nazi off my back."
Catherine said nothing but kept walking.
"My name's Joe, by the way," he said, ignoring her scowl. "I was wondering if you liked computers."
Catherine stopped. She looked at him, saw sincerity in his brown eyes. He looked like a sophomore with pale skin, skinny legs, and short-cropped curly black hair. Something about him annoyed her. He was trying to hard to be nice, even though he seemed sincere, as if he sensed she was an outcast and wanted to befriend her. Well, she didn't need anyone's charity.
"What's your deal, huh? I don't know you, you don't know me, so you don't need to give me lame lines in hopes of getting on my good side," she said. "And now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class." She turned and started walking away.
"Hey, if you ever want to actually talk, you know where I'll be every third period," he called after her. "I know this isn't the real you. You're looking for something to hold on to, you're waiting for something. Why don't you make some friends while waiting?"
She stopped in her tracks. Who was this guy and how dare he say all these things about her? He didn't know who she was, where she came from.
"Listen, jerk," she said, turning back to him. "You don't know anything about me, so why don't you mind your own business and stop mouthing off about things you don't know about?"
"Hey, easy there, I'm sorry," he said, putting his hands up in surrender. "I know that I don't know much about you, but I do know some things. I know your name's Catherine and that you go to the junior high. I was in your algebra class last year as a freshman and I saw the way you acted in class, like you were bored stiff and just doing your time here. You weren't even paying attention, while everyone else was taking notes like crazy. You're different from most people here. I just wanted to get to know you."
That seemed to work a little better, he noted, as she started to relax her defensive posture. Encouraged by this, he went on.
"Look, I think we can help each other out here. I saw you looking at those computers like they were candy. I'll teach you how to work those things, and you teach me how to find the apothem of a triangle."
The bell rang at that moment.
A student walking by shouted out, "Hey Joe, quit talking to the nerd girl and get your ass over here."
"Shut up, man, I'm talking to her. I'll meet you in class."
"Whatever."
Joe turned back to Catherine. "Sorry about that, he's really not that bad once you get to know him."
Catherine nodded, but Joe could see that the defenses were back up.
"Anyways, here's my phone number," he said, scribbling it onto a scrap of paper. "Give me a call if you're willing to trade."
"I don't need your help, I can learn about computers on my own." Catherine took the paper and stuffed it into her back pocket.
"You'll need one to practice on though, and unless you like having the Book Nazi marching around you, you can come over and use mine."
"I'll think about it."
"Let me know soon. Tomorrow night's pasta night at my house, and you're welcome to stay for dinner," he said, giving her his most charming smile.
She waited a week before calling him. She didn't want to be anyone's charity project, but he seemed sincere and she had had a lot of practice reading people. Besides, he was right: she was fascinated by computers. She had read a few books and articles on them, found out what they could do and what cutting edge computer programmers were doing. One idea that intrigued her was using telephone lines to connect computers to each other. The article said that the military was experimenting with this idea as a way to communicate secretly. She devoured books on programming languages and computer codes and was eager to test her knowledge. Programming was like math; it stimulated her analytical and creative problem solving side, and like math, computers would never have wishy-washy interpretations and multiple levels of meaning. A computer wouldn't betray you.
She waited a week because she needed time to think about what he'd said. Was she waiting for something? If she was, she didn't know what. But the more she thought about it, the more she saw that it was true. All of the time spent learning, searching for a way out, and she hadn't really stopped to think about what she was trying to escape or what she was preparing for. She just felt this inner drive to know, and assumed that it was because everyone said that education was the way out. The way out of what? If you wanted to become successful and rich-not living off of canned beans and macaroni like she was, or slowly dying of lung disease from being a bar waitress like her mother-you had to go to college, get a degree, and start climbing up the corporate ladder, only to........what? End up like her dad? Was she trying to reclaim her childhood? Hell no! She hated her father for what he did to her and her mother. But then what else was there? She knew that there had to be something beyond the rat race. Maybe that's what she was waiting for: the answer to her future.
Chapter 1
*three years earlier*
It had started out as a hobby, a way to escape reality. Catherine hated going to the school's library because she hated the way the librarians kept an eye on everything, as if they were waiting for her to steal one of their precious books. The head librarian marched around the shelves and tables on patrol and even had a German accent. That led the kids to dub her the Book Nazi. She was especially harsh on the quiet ones, watching them like a hawk. It was as if she could sense a student's outsider status and decided to capitalize on it. Like a predator, she always went after the weak ones.
Catherine was one of those outsiders. On one hand, she envied the girls who had the nice hair, the stylish clothes, the rich boyfriends, and who got invited to all of the parties. She could have easily fitted in; she had long legs, short dark hair, light and clear skin, and an angular face. Watching the popular girls reminded her of what her life could have been if her parents hadn't gotten divorced when she was eight. Before the divorce, Catherine had been a happy, carefree child. She had the best of everything: big house with a swimming pool, soccer practice, and a chest full of toys. Her mother always brushed her hair and read her bedtime stories. Her father was colder, less attentive, but Catherine assumed that he was just busy. She rarely saw him anyways so it didn't matter, he was always out late and never came back before she was asleep.
Then her dad decided that he needed a younger, skankier trophy wife and since Catherine's mom signed a pre-nup, divorce was a win-win situation for him. He practically tossed them out of the house. Catherine's mom came home after picking their daughter up from swimming lessons to find her bags on the lawn and one of her shoes acting as a paperweight for the divorce papers. Catherine had never seen her mother so upset. She couldn't understand the situation. What happened? What did her mother mean when she said that they had to leave? Where was her father?
On the other hand, Catherine was too proud and independent to want to be popular. She saw how all of the girls kissed ass just to be liked, and then once they became popular, they turned around and stabbed each other in the back. It was all just a stupid game of king of the hill. And for what? So that the popular guys, who played the same game, would notice them. The whole idea made Catherine want to puke.
Since her parents' divorce, she had pretty much survived on her own. Her mother moved back in with her parents for a while, trying to save up enough money to get a run-down apartment. The divorce had left her penniless and without marketable job skills. She never imagined that her ex-husband would replace her one day without warning. Everyone always said that once you married a rich guy, you'd be set for life. She was pretty enough and naïve enough to believe that she could do just that. It hadn't worked out as planned though. She wasn't supposed to get pregnant, wasn't supposed to lose her figure, wasn't supposed to age. He had thrown a fit when she told him that she was pregnant, shattering one of the living room vases against the wall and storming out of the house. She didn't know what to do except clean up the mess and cry herself to sleep. He came back two nights later, saying that she could remain his wife and that she must keep the baby-he was Catholic and an abortion was out of the question. However, he would have nothing to do with the child, he didn't want it in the first place. Catherine's mother thought that the worst was over, and that they would live happily ever after. She was twenty-one at the time.
Divorced at thirty, Catherine's mom used her charms to get a job as a waitress at a local bar. She always offered whatever she earned in tips to Catherine, so that she could go do "fun things," but Catherine always refused, knowing how much they needed to keep up with rent and food. They couldn't afford nice things like Nike shoes and Roxy jeans, which made Catherine an outsider at school. Catherine, at age ten, started taking money under the table for cleaning out storerooms for local shops. She never had time to develop friendships because she was either working or learning. Or rather, she was searching, searching for a way to get back to where she used to be: happy, loved, and innocent. She started reading books and putting up with school librarians, thinking that education was the way out. She tried reading "the classics" but found them boring and inscrutable. Literature had too many meanings and interpretations; there was nothing concrete about it. She turned to other areas. At age eleven, her teachers discovered that she was mathematically gifted, and started placing her in higher math classes. By the time she was in junior high, she was taking geometry with the high school kids across the street. This only caused her to become even more of an outcast. She was not only the poor, weird girl, she was also a nerd, a freak.
Catherine learned quickly how uncaring the world could be. When she found out why her parents had gotten a divorce, she became even more cynical and rebellious. She saw her father for the shallow hypocrite he was, and vowed that she would never be as naïve as her mother. She would be strong and capable of taking care of herself. She would never make the same mistake her mother did, leaving her life in the hands of others only to be blindsided by her own foolishness.
Her quest for stable knowledge eventually led her past math and into computers. The high school library got its first computer lab when she was in seventh grade and taking geometry with sophomores. On the way to math class, she saw the new computers through the window. Students were typing diligently while the Book Nazi paced at the end of the room, giving out instructions. Catherine looked around, saw that no one was paying attention to her as usual, and crept up against the window to watch.
Most of the kids looked bored as they practiced typing words like "car," "card," "care," "carp," and so on. One kid, though, was doing something else. Catherine couldn't see what he was doing, but he was completely absorbed in it. So much so, that he didn't notice that the Book Nazi had stopped until she shouted out, "Joseph! What do you think you're doing?"
"Uhhhhh......," said the unfortunate student, looking around wildly for an excuse. He happened to look out the window and caught Catherine peeking in. The Book Nazi followed his gaze and saw her too.
"Uh oh," thought Catherine as she ducked and scooted away from the window. The bell had rung ten minutes ago-Catherine was usually late to class-and she didn't want to be caught outside without a hall pass. She rounded the corner just as the computer lab door opened.
"Hey! Young lady, where's your pass? Hey!"
But she was already gone.
After class was over, Catherine packed up her books and headed back toward the junior high, making sure to pass by the library. The kids from the computer class were just trickling out of the side door. Catherine watched them until that boy-Joseph was his name?-saw her and started coming toward her.
"Shit," thought Catherine, hunching her shoulders and speeding up her walk. He caught up to her anyways.
"Hi," he said, giving her a smile.
"Hi," she grumbled back.
"What's with the attitude?"
"You almost got me in trouble. You coming back for more?"
"Oh, sorry about that," he said, giving her a sheepish grin. "I had to get the Book Nazi off my back."
Catherine said nothing but kept walking.
"My name's Joe, by the way," he said, ignoring her scowl. "I was wondering if you liked computers."
Catherine stopped. She looked at him, saw sincerity in his brown eyes. He looked like a sophomore with pale skin, skinny legs, and short-cropped curly black hair. Something about him annoyed her. He was trying to hard to be nice, even though he seemed sincere, as if he sensed she was an outcast and wanted to befriend her. Well, she didn't need anyone's charity.
"What's your deal, huh? I don't know you, you don't know me, so you don't need to give me lame lines in hopes of getting on my good side," she said. "And now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class." She turned and started walking away.
"Hey, if you ever want to actually talk, you know where I'll be every third period," he called after her. "I know this isn't the real you. You're looking for something to hold on to, you're waiting for something. Why don't you make some friends while waiting?"
She stopped in her tracks. Who was this guy and how dare he say all these things about her? He didn't know who she was, where she came from.
"Listen, jerk," she said, turning back to him. "You don't know anything about me, so why don't you mind your own business and stop mouthing off about things you don't know about?"
"Hey, easy there, I'm sorry," he said, putting his hands up in surrender. "I know that I don't know much about you, but I do know some things. I know your name's Catherine and that you go to the junior high. I was in your algebra class last year as a freshman and I saw the way you acted in class, like you were bored stiff and just doing your time here. You weren't even paying attention, while everyone else was taking notes like crazy. You're different from most people here. I just wanted to get to know you."
That seemed to work a little better, he noted, as she started to relax her defensive posture. Encouraged by this, he went on.
"Look, I think we can help each other out here. I saw you looking at those computers like they were candy. I'll teach you how to work those things, and you teach me how to find the apothem of a triangle."
The bell rang at that moment.
A student walking by shouted out, "Hey Joe, quit talking to the nerd girl and get your ass over here."
"Shut up, man, I'm talking to her. I'll meet you in class."
"Whatever."
Joe turned back to Catherine. "Sorry about that, he's really not that bad once you get to know him."
Catherine nodded, but Joe could see that the defenses were back up.
"Anyways, here's my phone number," he said, scribbling it onto a scrap of paper. "Give me a call if you're willing to trade."
"I don't need your help, I can learn about computers on my own." Catherine took the paper and stuffed it into her back pocket.
"You'll need one to practice on though, and unless you like having the Book Nazi marching around you, you can come over and use mine."
"I'll think about it."
"Let me know soon. Tomorrow night's pasta night at my house, and you're welcome to stay for dinner," he said, giving her his most charming smile.
She waited a week before calling him. She didn't want to be anyone's charity project, but he seemed sincere and she had had a lot of practice reading people. Besides, he was right: she was fascinated by computers. She had read a few books and articles on them, found out what they could do and what cutting edge computer programmers were doing. One idea that intrigued her was using telephone lines to connect computers to each other. The article said that the military was experimenting with this idea as a way to communicate secretly. She devoured books on programming languages and computer codes and was eager to test her knowledge. Programming was like math; it stimulated her analytical and creative problem solving side, and like math, computers would never have wishy-washy interpretations and multiple levels of meaning. A computer wouldn't betray you.
She waited a week because she needed time to think about what he'd said. Was she waiting for something? If she was, she didn't know what. But the more she thought about it, the more she saw that it was true. All of the time spent learning, searching for a way out, and she hadn't really stopped to think about what she was trying to escape or what she was preparing for. She just felt this inner drive to know, and assumed that it was because everyone said that education was the way out. The way out of what? If you wanted to become successful and rich-not living off of canned beans and macaroni like she was, or slowly dying of lung disease from being a bar waitress like her mother-you had to go to college, get a degree, and start climbing up the corporate ladder, only to........what? End up like her dad? Was she trying to reclaim her childhood? Hell no! She hated her father for what he did to her and her mother. But then what else was there? She knew that there had to be something beyond the rat race. Maybe that's what she was waiting for: the answer to her future.