Hey!

Four things before you read (well you CAN skip this, but my feelings might be hurt):

1) This is where you met the mysterious woman from Day Nine at. Lots of you were wondering who the hell she was. Here she is!

2) Sorry if the beginning is JUST like the same as it had been for chapter 4 for the last attempt. I liked it enough to keep it.

3) If you didn't notice, all my assassination talk last chapter was mirroring the assassination of JFK! Lee Harvey Oswald, supposedly, killed JFK at 12:30 p.m. in Dallas (that's my time! Central! And what I had put down as the time Kat was "assassinated"!). I was pretty excited about that once I finished the whole section about it. But, I promise you, no more conspiracy theories or presidential assassination talks, unless Blank gets assassinated by that chick.

And lastly, 4) Tomorrow's chapter might be a little late. Brazil is playing against North Korea tomorrow and so I'm going to be preoccupied with that.

Day 2

Patrick awoke before dawn, an arm trapped beneath Kat and completely numb. He turned his head to gaze at her but didn't move anything else, not wanting to disturb her sleep.

She looked beautiful.

Her hair was sleep tousled, her mouth was slightly open, and her cheek held the faint crease of a pillow. Still she looked beautiful.

He turned his head and stared up at the ceiling, a crush of emotions weighing heavily on his chest. Careful not to wake her, he eased his arm from beneath her. It had been a difficult night for him, laying next to her, feeling the warmth of her curves so close, the scent of her filling his head and not acting on the sharp desire that stabbed him.

What he needed was a very cold shower to banish the tension that begged to be relieved.

Ew.

He quietly got dressed and, while carefully slipping out her window, blew her kiss. He jumped down from her balcony and jogged, slowly, away from her house. He had parked his motorcycle a few blocks over. He looked back at her house and he thought of a poem an old friend—whom you'll met in a while—once read to him:

To make a final conquest of all me,
Love did compose so sweet an Enemy,
In whom both Beauties to my death agree,
Joyning themselves in fatal Harmony;
That while she with her Eyes my Heart does bind,
She with her Voice might captivate my Mind.

I could have fled from One but singly fair:
My dis-intangled Soul itself might save,
Breaking the curled trammels of her hair.
But how should I avoid to be her Slave,
Whose subtile Art invisibly can wreath
My Fetters of the very Air I breath?

It had been easie fighting in some plain,
Where Victory might hang in equal choice.
But all resistance against her is vain,
Who has th' advantage both of Eyes and Voice.
And all my Forces needs must be undone,
She having gained both the Wind and Sun.

They were at the beach. They had absolutely no idea how the hell they convinced Walter not to kill them and allow Kat to leave the house. With Patrick Verona, no less.

"I have no idea what just happened", Kat looked up at Patrick, who smiled coolly. "What did you do?"

"A master never reveals his secret", Patrick said, sinking slightly in the sand as they walked.

"Come on!" Kat yelled at him, smiling. "Tell me!"

Patrick grabbed her shoulders and said, gazing into her eyes, "Yeah, right after this"—he leaned in to kiss her, the flames of passion and lust in their eyes. His lips were barely brushing her lips, teasing her. She grabbed his neck and pulled his lips onto hers. Excitement overtook her and he chuckled, lightly, but excitement, too, overtook him. Her fingers tangled in his curly black hair, as he leaned her over, his hands on her back. The waves crashed over the shoreline as they grew closer together, becoming one; it was very theatrical and romance movie-esque.

I think I got that right.

Kat broke away from Patrick, her breath winded and her eyes dazed. "I think we should stop before we get too into it."

"Why?" Patrick asked as he started kissing her neck.

"Must I remind you what is in beach sand?"

Patrick stood up, helping Kat, "How could I forget? The power point."

They started walking along the beach, as cliché as that sounds. "So, how did you convince my dad to not kill you?"

"I told him that I respected you far too much to do whatever he thought I did to you and that if I stepped out of line you would"—Patrick cleared his throat—"cut something off of me, something important."

"That's all it took?"

"Naw, I begged him, pleaded with him, on my hands and knees, kissed his ass, immensely, and fed him false promises. It was very hard work."

"Well I thank you very much", they stopped walking. She looked at him. "I'm very proud of what you did."

"Yeah", he said, looking at the sand, grinning, and "it was pretty sweet of me."

A woman, who looked like she was the same age as Patrick and Kat, walked to the shore, a few feet away from Kat and Patrick. She had the body of a dancer, tall and slender. She had four black pigtails, like girls have in Anime cartoons, and was wearing a knee length dark blue-gray apron and red sneakers. She was looking at the ocean, wiping her hands onto apron. It looked like she was cursing.

Patrick's lustful eyes turned into childhood wonderment as he noticed the woman, "Athena?" he asked as he walked towards the woman. "Is that you?"

The woman glanced at Patrick, confusion in her brown eyes, "Excuse me?" she asked, a slight Italian accent creeping up.

"It's me Patrick", he pointed to himself.

"PATRICK?" she screeched. She jumped towards him, a huge smile on her face. "Oh my god!"

"I thought you were in Italy."

"Oh, I am—um—not right now of course—but my grandmother died."

"Grandmother Flash died?" Patrick's face had a hint of sadness.

"No, not her", Athena said, "the other one, Darth Sidious."

"Oh", Patrick said as Kat strolled from behind him.

"Who's this? Dorothy Zbornak?" Athena pointed at Kat.

Patrick chuckled a slight little boy laugh, "No, this is my girlfriend, Kat Stratford."

Athena extended her hand to Kat, "Well, Kat, I'm Athena Baldwin; I'm an old friend of Patrick."

"Hi", Kat smiled then her face fell to a sullen expression, "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother; must be very depressing for you."

"Nope, I'm happy she's dead. I used to have to stay over at her house after school and she'd make Patrick and I scrub her feet or something so I could go out and play. And her little black Crocker Spaniel used to chase us around, its teeth snarling and gnashing at us. I hated that little fucker."

"Oh, well, sorry", Kat grew very uncomfortable.

"Why do you have an apron on?" Patrick asked Athena, noticing her get-up.

"Well, all my cousins' and I's parents decided to let us clean her house while they went to do something, I don't know. Anyhoo, my cousins were being dumbasses so I told them to fuck off and walked away", Athena nodded her head. An Italian yelling the word "Peanuts", interrupted the nice gauche moment. "Oh Chico", Athena said taking out a yellow Iphone. "Excuse me", she told Patrick and Kat as she answered the phone, "Hello?" She walked a few feet away.

"Like her?" Patrick asked Kat, as Athena talked on the phone.

"She's a little harsh and forceful."

"Just like you", Patrick pointed at Kat.

…"Did you trap it?"…"Why haven't you called Animal Control yet?"…"Oh, I see. Well trap them"… "Not in the same room, you idiot!"…"And then call Animal Control; for both him and the snake"…"Okay, I'll be back in a second. Bye-bye", Athena rolled her eyes, stuck her phone back into her apron's pocket, and walked back to Patrick and Kat. "I gotta go. My former alcoholic cousin, Seth, just discovered my Grandmother's liquor stash and he's going absolutely mad dog. And a snake somehow found its way into the house, so, bye!" Athena waved a huge wave at Patrick and Kat and left.

Reasons why it's called (9) Days of the Rite of Spring:

(500) Days of Summer Trailer: .com/watch?v=PsD0NpFSADM [If you've seen it, you know why]

Rite of Spring: .com/watch?v=jF1OQkHybEQ