The next morning I decided over my overflowing bowl of Cocopops that I would enroll at St. Christopher's public school.
The meeting a week earlier with my headmaster, who if you ask me was about as privileged and illiterate as the boys he taught, ruled that I was to be excused from the last private school in the area, and sent to a public school of my and mother's choosing.
Ever since she collected me from the hospital mother had been even more dramatic than usual, reciting my many woes in a 20 minute monologue, and instructing that I decide on a school by the next morning. Which is why, having completely forgotten this conversation until the moment I heard my mother's footsteps clicking on the hardwood floor, I rushed to find the list of schools. I found it buried deep in the pile of newspapers and unopened letters, that draped over the kitchen table like the tablecloth we didn't have.
A moment later I turned to see my mother swaying in the doorway. Today she was dressed in a long fur coat and black beret. This striking hat, I noted, was topped with a peacock feather that flickered like a glossy blue flame with her every resounding step.
I slowly placed the list on the table, positioned my cup of coffee over it casually. My mother patted the hairspray-stuck ends of her hair and folded into the chair opposite me.
"So Richard, have you decided on the next school to be blessed with your presence?" She asked, the knowing lift of her lips tugging a Hollywood smile.
"Of course" I grinned through a mouthful of cereal. Slowly I turned back to the kitchen table and the list of schools, lifting my coffee cup and leaving a thick liquid circle around one of the schools.
"St. Christopher's." I said.
The halls smelt of sweat and Friday's chicken curry. The missing undertones of expensive disinfectant that haunted the halls of every other school I'd been to was abundantly clear, but that was the only difference. The bell rung shrill and impatient, my peers flowing through the opening doors the way ants flee a burning nest.
I got to my first class fifteen minutes late.
The blurred eyes of my peers rose, took in my disheveled appearance and recognised me as one of their own, and I remembered why I left my last school. By the time I found an empty seat I was already plotting my escape through an open window or a carefully played distraction.
The first empty space I saw was next to a guy so deeply asleep he might as well be sedated, and a girl with oval eyes and dark hair that brushed the sharp bones of her shoulders when she glanced up at me and froze.
"Castle?"
"Beckett." I grinned, sinking into the too-small chair next to her and leaning on the too-small desk too-casually, feeling more than the rushing of a rapidly beating heart; feeling what I was sure where the early signs of heart failure.
"What are yo-? What are you doing here?"
I laughed "good to see you too"
"Seriously."
"You heard I got kicked out of all the private schools around?"
Kate nodded impatiently.
"I'm making my way around public schools now."
She raised her eyebrows septically, "You're really lowering your standards, Castle, honouring a mere public school with your presence."
"I know." I replied sincerely, "times are hard Beckett."
"Why here though? She asked, leaning closer, sharp features lined with sarcasm "Was it because of Curry Fridays? Apparently we have the best curry in the city."
"Was that what that smell was? I thought something had died. Actually," I paused dramatically, "it was fate."
Her corner of her lips seem to lift of their own accord, and she bit down hard. "Fate huh? Did fate tell you to put on that shirt this morning?"
I laughed loud and echoing in the silent room, our oblivious teacher carried on flicking through the PowerPoint, pausing only to murmur something about rhyme schemes.
Kate smirked, chewing at her penlid a little too harshly, "I think fate might just have it out for you Castle."
"Fate brought me to you didn't it?" I replied with too much seriousness.
Our teacher, bell-shaped with a ringing voice to match, interrupted Kate's silence just when I thought I might say something stupid, and that was the first time that I truly appreciated literature.
Twenty minutes later our teacher had set our task and retreated to the staff-room, I guessed to top up his large mug of strawberry tea, leaving the class to not analyse the set of poems he'd left on our desks.
"Why did you get kicked out of your last school?" Kate asked.
"I corrected the spelling on every graffitied surface with red permanent marker"
Her laughing eyes narrowed.
"And drew little sad faces and wrote 'nice try' and 'keep working hard' next to them."
"Of course you did." She smiled wide around her penlid.
"If I'm being honest I'm glad I got kicked out; they should be praising me for my dedication to the English language, not punishing me."
"Okay Castle." She squinted at the poem on her desk, made a note on the page.
"No, seriously! Like look at this poem." I said, pointing at 'Schoolboy' by William Blake, "he gets it, he gets how school traps you; how it restricts you."
The guy on my other side snored loudly and I nodded frantically, "see? He gets it too!"
Kate crossed her arms, assessing me again.
Her eyes were a swirling blur of colour in the bright light of the classroom; like mixed paint on an artists palate, and I forgot I was supposed to be saying something.
Then Kate got up, grabbed her tattered jean jacket from the back of her chair, and slung it over her back, the tips of her fingers dragging it through the air like a cape when she sashéd out of the room.
I watched her open-mouthed, thinking numbly of the envy of the thousand models she just put to shame with the easy sway of her footsteps.
She turned, eyebrow and lips lifting in union, "Well? You coming, Castle?"
I got up too fast, knocking the plastic chair to the ground with a resounding crash, and nearly ran to catch up with her. "Where're we going?"
She smiled knowingly, "Somewhere that would make Blake proud."
I couldn't argue with that.
We walked the long road away from school; past small shops with drawn shutters, and wide pavements with empty crisp-packets, and our footsteps echoing for miles.
"Are we going in here?" I asked when we reached the amusement park about a mile from our school, she shook her head, smiling, and walked faster.
A few minutes later Beckett stopped outside a kiddies park, grinning widely. "I think this is more your suited to your age-range, Castle."
It was a small park, probably one of the smallest I'd ever seen; with a rusty swing-set and the seats of the see-saw covered with gum and more miss-spelt graffiti than the desks of all the schools I'd attended combined.
I stopped walking, nearly crashing into the low metal gate. Kate looked at me, and I looked back at her; happy and smiling and waiting for me to say something. And then I laughed, and once I started I couldn't stop, gasping breath falling away like something I could live without.
Kate watched me with all the sharp control she had even back then, with the look she gives me now when I eat whipped cream out of the can. All these years later it slips, and she looks at me like she's only just realised I'm there, and she strokes my cream-coated upper-lip, slips the finger into her mouth around her smiling teeth, the bounce in her feet and the sway of her hips the same as it was when we were 17.
I followed Kate's lifting, swinging, falling action over the gate, but never having possessed her easy grace, slipped and fell into the grass with a yelp. Kate looked at me lying there, lost in the lifting, uncut grass, and her tight-lipped control slipped and broke apart, her mouth falling open on a laugh like falling rain.
"Help me up?" I asked through bursts of breathless laughter.
I grinned when she offered a hand, grasped it firmly in mine, and pulled her into the grass. Kate gasped, falling in slow-motion and then fast-forward, and then time just stopped; the edges of my body fitting into the curves of hers and her laughing breath dancing hotly on my neck.
She lifted her face slowly, smiling shyly with her legs bracketing mine, her hair draped like a dark curtain around us, beams of light shining through in streaks.
"Hey." I said, because I couldn't think of anything better to say.
"Hey." She said back.
Kate looked at me, but she didn't move, it was after several stretched minutes that she finally spoke, "Don't overthink this, okay?"
Before I had a chance to reply she had tilted her head down to mine, the soft edges of her hair brushing the grass.
Kate smiled, and I felt the smile on her lips when she kissed me, catching my mouth and the breath I'd been holding with hers, the barely there touch of her lips on mine soft and slow and fleeting. And I thought I'd never breathe again.
She pulled away slowly, and got up too fast, eyes glittering and wide when she shouted "race you to the swingset!" And ran without tripping on the straggling ends of her laces.
I followed her like I always have, speechless for only a moment before I dragged myself up and chased her across the park.
We stayed on those swings for two hours, feeling like we were flying and then falling twice as fast.
I looked up at Kate, her long legs splayed out in front of her, and toes pointed in scuffed boots when she lent into the wind like she had no fear of falling. And I remember the feeling of rushing and flying and falling that had nothing to do with the swing-set and everything to do with her smile.
She slowed after forever, feet buried in the thick grass and eyes watching the distance, and then she grinned, a soft and slow, and stretching like the unlimited horizon ahead of us.
Kate jumped up abruptly, walked into the distance with clear direction.
I sat still, watching her, not knowing if I was supposed to follow. A few minutes later Kate came back with a skateboard in her hands.
"I saw it from the swingset, I guess some kids must have left it here... I'm going to teach you how to skate so that next time you decide to try you don't break your neck."
I laughed, "sounds like a plan."
A little while later I was balancing on the lost skateboard facing, with my hands gripping Kate's while she dragged me carefully sideways.
"I don't understand why we're doing this." I muttered, teeth gritted over the difficulty of not falling.
She raised her eyebrows sternly, "you need to feel what it's like to move on a skateboard before you can ride."
I nodded, because she sounded kind of like Yoda, and let her continue to lead me across the strip of Tarmac that broke up the grass. A few minutes later I progressed to watching her ride, the easy, flowing motion I was sure I'd never replicate. And then I followed her hands on my waist when they moved me to face forward on the skateboard. It took a few attempts, but eventually I managed to make it halfway across the Tarmac before I jumped off to the sound of her laughing.
"I can't do this." I declared when it was starting to get dark.
Kate's hands on my waist tightened when she replied "you know we could always cuddle, Castle."
I let out a shocked laugh and she grinned against my cheek.
"As appealing as that sounds, I'd rather make a deal."
"A deal?"
"Call it a happy compromise."
Kate shifted, folding her arms impatiently, "I'm listening."
"For each attempt I make to skateboard there and back I get an answer."
"Okay," she said thoughtfully, "but you've got to answer the questions too."
"Deal."
I climbed back on the skateboard with newly found determination, skating a few paces and then tripping. I tried a few more times before I reached the end of the line; I repeated this process 4 more times after that.
"What's your favourite TV show?" I asking, having joined her on the almost-mobile swing-seats.
"Nebula 9." She replied automatically, eyeing the scuffed edges of her shoes that peaked out of the grass.
I grinned, "Seriously?"
"Shut up." She scowled back, and it was adorable, but I thought about how she'd probably push me off the swing if I told her and pursed my lips hard.
"Firefly." I said.
"Never seen it. Cats or dogs?"
"Watch it. Dogs."
"Watch nebula 9. Cats."
"Not if you paid me."
I paused, thinking carefully before breaking into a wide grin when I decided what my next question was. Swinging sideways I nudged Kate with an eager smile. "Believe in love at first sight?"
Beckett rolled her eyes, nudging me back harder. Laughing I gripped the handles of the swing to stop myself from toppling off.
"No. Absolutely not." She said.
"Yes; absolutely yes. Zombie apocalypse, could it happen?"
"Seriously Castle?" The-whipped-cream-eating-glare again. "No way."
"Yes! I have a survival guide and everything!"
Kate sighed, "Of course you do. Tea of coffee?"
"Coffee." I said.
Kate caught her bottom lip between her teeth and repeated, "Coffee."
She looked up and I looked down and our eyes met for a moment too long, smiling at this small thing we had in common. And I'm not sure why it mattered so much; I'm not sure why any of it mattered, but in that moment it felt like everything made sense. In the darkening light we could pretend that the swing set wasn't rusting; that the see-saw wasn't illustrated with poorly-spelt graffiti, and that this moment was anything more than a soon-to-be fading memory.
We both jumped when Kate's phone jingled. She retrieved it from her coat pocket and groaned, "I should go home, my parents are wondering where I am."
I realised then that I'd forgotten I even had a home to go back to.
"Me too." I said after a while. Kate nodded, rising from her seat next to me.
She looked almost sad for a moment, dark hair shielding the majority of her face from mine, and then she looked up, features set with her decision and said, "we don't have English tomorrow, but meet me at the gates after school?"
I nodded, probably after too long, everything but the beat of my heart slowed by the mere idea that Kate Beckett wanted to see me tomorrow.
"Beckett?" I said, when she was halfway across the park.
"Yeah?"
"What's your name? Your first name, I mean." I felt shy and nervous, and like it didn't matter, but I felt like when she smiled tilted and beautiful, and her eyes widened and crinkled around the edges, that I needed something softer than 'Beckett' to call her by, even if it was only in my head.
"Kate." She said, and I remember thinking that 'Kate' was perfect.
"Until tomorrow." I called out, a moment before she was swallowed by the darkness
I could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, "Goodnight, Castle."
A/N: Okay so before I say anything else, HOW AMAZING WAS THE TIME OF OUR LIVES?!
*Coughs* Thank you to those of you who reviewed, followed and favorited last chapter! I know that some of you found last chapter a bit strange, but I hope it was a good strange!
I thought it'd be fun to set a fic in a time where Kate is disinhibited and carefree, and the idea of rebel teenage Beckett is my favourite thing ever. In later chapters I will probably time-jump to season 1 of castle so I'd love to hear what you think about that idea and generally how you feel about this story so far because I know it's kind of different...
By the way, Castle and Beckett are the same age in this fic and Johanna is still alive at the moment, just in case there's any confusion.
This was mostly a filler chapter, so I hope it wasn't too boring and that you'll stay tuned for next time- I'm pretty excited about the next one!