The American and the Australian

Summary: Kat and Patrick are going out. Everything appears to be blissful until they face some obstacles: Getting daddy Walter to approve of Patrick, Joey "pay-back-time" Donner and Kat's transfer to Sarah Lawrence.

Chapter 1

2 days after the movie

Katarina's P.O.V.

First bell. Must go attend algebra now. And I'd better maintain perfect punctuality; I wouldn't want after school detention- the amount of time I consume in school is ample. Tardiness is accounted for strictly here.

And the subject my rebellion for today? Chewing gum. Prohibited a few days ago. Hope somebody will attempt busting me, as I'm in the mood of defying a dictator.

Damn those rascals blocking my way. Hehe It's amazing how intimidating one glare in the hallway can make you. And surprise surprise. Here comes my boyfriend, the supposedly demon-in-disguise: Patrick Verona. Even though he's adorable (his attitude, his profoundness, his musical talents, his looks with the exception of that hair which isn't quite presentable and much more) I never enlighten him upon these complimentary opinions as I'm showing him the courtesy of 'keeping him on his toes'... besides, his ego isn't exactly the size of an atom.

He has a lime green pullover today that would get him a blunt naught from our modern day's fashion police. That's another thing why he's the guy for me, we have one major thing in common: we don't give a shit what other people think. We exist to please ourselves.

Since I'm in a rush now, I just slugged him on his shoulder as a greeting. Know how he returned my delicate act of affection? Slapped me on my ass. Vigorously. And now it's throbbing.

Note to self: Get back at him for that.

"Babe," he called after me in his Oz rich accent that Bianca thinks is incredibly sexy "got any more of that gum? It's a cigar substitute."

"Sure," I said, coming to a halt. It's so sweet of him to become a non-smoker for me. And he's working on becoming sober too! Anyway, I tried thinking of something cool dripping with sarcasm but failed so I pathetically settled on "but say the precise password: please. For I predictably proudly posses a packet in my pockets."

OK, that was stupid. I sounded like an imaginative toddler. But I have to admit that I was impressed at my own alliteration, if only Mr. Morgan were here to hear this for extra credit in English. I need it at the moment. If only he didn't overlook the fact that my vocabulary is at a higher standard than my fellow-classmates.

"A packet powered by my imagination." (Regaining my serious tone, realizing I've rambled too much) "So no I don't. But you can ask Bianca. She's the one who gave me this. But I think she's distributed the last one already, it's a protest on the new futile gum rule. Power of sibling positive influence."

"Positive?" He laughed, "Are you so sure about that? My typical Kat. Well are you done with the one you're chewing now?"

Exasperated at his quality of persistence, I smashed my lips against his and plopped the piece of crap into his mouth using my tongue (doesn't he get the gist of my speed-increasion plight?). He tried to kiss me but pulled away and yelped in pain when I painfully bit his tongue.

I distinctively heard someone whisper to her friend, "Mr. Stay-Away-Or-I'll-You-Alive-For-Lunch with Ms. I-hate-anyone-who-doesn't-fit-into-my-category-of-perfection, together?! What happened to the world?"

Second bell. I yielded to my earlier strive of making an early appearance to class.

"Sorry, Patty," I said in a loud teasing voice, ignoring everyone's gapes "but vengeance is irresistible. Maybe you'll think triple next time you're tempted to spank me in public."

Talk about karma! In an equal (and doubtlessly embarrassed) tone he said: "Come on Katty, if you wanted me to pull you into a fiery kiss instead you didn't need to create this scene. You could've just asked."

I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his statement.

Satisfied that he made me lighten up, he turned to our amused audience and ordered "OFF TO CLASS, PEOPLE! You're all going to end up in deep trouble, second bell's gone off a while ago."

Snapping out of oblivion, everyone scattered away frantically.

He kneeled down and whispered, "that hurt, you know."

"So much for being Mr. Tough guy." I whispered back "You can get your own revenge later. After school. At your place. That is if I don't get detention, I'm REALLY late incase you failed to notice- considering I'm monitored twice as strongly as the rest of the student body by our paranoid teachers."

"Yes, well you can't exactly blame them for being paranoid, after all the stuff you've been up to." He smiled, gazing fondly at me "But if they do give you detention- I'll think of something to get you outta there."

"Duh." I replied, shooting him a significant smile "you do owe me, big-time."

I took the liberty of pecking him on the cheek before heading off.

I unsuccessfully tried to avoid my worry about our relationship when I accommodate at Sarah Lawrence. I'm accustomed to having him around. I'll miss him so damn much.

Mandela just popped up beside me out of the blue.

"I witnessed the Shakespearian scenario you erected just there…" she informed me "so what was with that gum-packet twaddle anyway?"

End of P.O.V.

Joey watched heatedly as Kat and Patrick embraced in the parking lot after school. He decided to approach the guy before he got in to his car (Kat's left already).

"Listen man," he said sternly "I consider the money I gave you a big loss."

Patrick glanced at his watch impatiently.

"Good for you." he replied, "Want to know my interest in your considerations? Equivalent to the weight of a sand grain. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Yeah I hired you to do the job." Joey snarled, seething "But that's just it: it wasn't a job. You're the shrew's man now. You didn't need the money to date her. If anything, I did you a favor- otherwise you would've gave up on her and so you two wouldn't be a couple now."

Patrick rose and glared venomously at the shorter boy. "Want your money back? Watchu planning on doing about it hot-shot-wannabe?"

"Oh, only make you regret it. Big time." Joey vowed "you and that cow-"

But he didn't continue. Patrick had punched him on the face.

"Fuck you, faggot!" Joey bellowed, falling onto the floor and bleeding "I've been physically abused enough this week as it is!"

"You should've thought better than to insult a girl at her boyfriend's face, then." Patrick said offhandedly "And threaten me in the process, nevertheless!"

"The reason I want the cash is because I fucking need it now you bastard." Joey said, clutching his wounds "I'm a model who's temporarily been deliberately disfigured by people who think they can get away with it!"

"You'll live, unfortunately," Patrick retorted, hopping into his car, "I'm in nobody's debt, clear? And you'd better maintain distance from Kat and I. Or there wont be no modeling for quite a long time. And it'll give people's sights a vacation; not seeing your hideous form in the ads for a while. And another thing, aim another swear word in my direction and I promise you I'll present you with a black left eye to match your right one."

Joey watched despairingly as his car zoomed off.

'I should've been taller,' he bitterly thought, still lying on the ground- in too much pain to try to get up 'I would've had him down myself in a jiffy'

He unexpectedly felt a tug on his arms.

"Come on", a slender brunette said in a British accent, pulling him up "I'll help if you show me a little cooperation."

He got to his feet.

"Thanks for that."

"It was nothing. Er, do I know you?" She wanted to know; puzzled "you look awfully familiar."

"Um. Yeah." He said, covering his blood with some tissue "Joey Donner. Model."

"Hello Joey. Being a model explains why I find you familiar, because I suppose I've come across your picture." She eyed his injuries pitifully. "I saw your interesting little encounter with... a foe, I presume? Should I fetch you a first aid kit from the nurse?"

"That's all right. Just some surgery, medicine, some make-up and I'm good as new," he said casually, suppressing a wince "Speaking of familiar, I don't recognize you. Are you new here?"

"Exchange student," she said, extending her hand. He shook it. "Stephanie Wotson."

"Cool to meet your acquaintance, Steph. You from England?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't address me by that nickname- a heartbreaker used it on me before. I've arrived from Milwaukee, actually" She said, grinning, "Exactly where he who gave you gave you this scar," she noted mystiquely, imitating Mr. Olivander from the Harry Potter movie, touching his wound "was at last year."

Joey's jaws swung uncontrollably open from shock, "Patrick? Milwaukee? Not prison?"

She giggled "Yes, Patrick, my ex. Yes, Milwaukee, the city. And yeah most definitely not prison; I understand how vile he can be but surely he's not that evil?"

Joey's jaws, if possible, swung even wider. "Your ex? You guys were an item?"

The girl looked perplexed and slightly offended. "I hope you are not implying that he's too good to date me?"

"On the contrary, I mean- the opposite: You're too much for him."

She smiled shyly at that compliment.

Then an idea (a.k.a. an intrigue) hit him. He cracked a cunning smile.

"Love," he said charmingly, full of adrenaline from his potential conspiracy "I have a beautiful little task for you- hear me out and prepare to execute it."