I suck at witty. I apologize in advance. The first time I saw this movie I literally yelled WHAT THE FUCK when all of a sudden Cat and Patrick were on a stationary paddleboat, talking all deep about deep stuff.

So this is a sort of prelude to that moment. Enjoy my brain’s overactive imagination.

Not So Witty Banter To The Paddle Boat

He scatters out the window, the cheering and whistles of the detention students dying behind him as he runs across the roof before another security guard sees him. It's a very short drop to the ground, and Patrick leaps, his bag bouncing on his back abruptly as his feet slam into the ground. The broadest, proudest smile digs into his cheeks as he runs a hand through his hair and tries to appear inconspicuous. Patrick Verona doesn’t believe his own memory- did that really just happen? Did Cat really just spring him out of detention by flashing a teacher?

Its not possible, but Patrick’s smile widens and he chuckles once, an amused huff, its almost too incredible. Yet he’s not surprised- not quite, it’s more like she just blew his mind. And he thought his little stunt on the bleachers had been impressive! Patrick shook his head as he walked along the side of the building towards the main doors, staying slightly out of sight of anybody leaving school.

He sighs, waiting. Where could she be? His heart jumps in joy and anticipation at the thought of seeing her opening the school’s front door. Did this spontaneous pass out of jail free card mean he was forgiven?

He’d danced on the bleachers, potentially ruining his hard-ass, criminal reputation forever (not like he cared much anyways), he’d followed her around, gone to a terrible concert to gain her respect (or something close to it) and had subjected himself to quite a bit of misery and he knew that he didn’t have to do half the things he was doing. Dancing on the bleachers? Was it really for the money? When Michael brought back the quote that Cat “hates him with the fire of a thousand suns,” he feels like a douche. He couldn’t kiss her then- there were so many reasons: the fact she’d just thrown up, that the entire night had been a setup. He wanted to spit on the money folded in his wallet. He felt like a scumbag, like a criminal for this. If Cat found out the person she hated most at school was paying him to take her out, this would end very badly.

He runs his fingers through his tangled hair, in a bit of a huff. He couldn’t do it yesterday- last night. Because as she’d leaned forward in that girlish, silly way in the car, all he could think about was the money in his pocket, and how this wasn’t supposed to be real. He was just being paid to take some chick out. Which is why he’d sung some sappy song in front of the entire girl’s football (pardon, soccer to all those barbaric Americans) team and which is why his heart was racing with something like pride and excitement at the thought of this girl.

Cat pushes the door open hurriedly, her hand covering her mouth. He comes out of his halfassed hiding place and their eyes meet. There is nobody around, because it's the Friday before prom and everybody is home or out and simply not hanging around school.

Their eyes meet- hers are slightly blue, his are tinted green. He wonders, briefly, if he should tell her.

She advances towards him, her hands in front of her face, and stops right before him. She’s standing close enough, closer than before, should be closer…

He lays his hands on her arms and grins almost maniacally. “I am sorry, but there is nothing your hands can do to hide that crimson tinge on your face, Cat.”

She bursts into a nervous laugh. “You owe me, Patrick….I can’t believe I just did that!” she admits, wringing her fingers together, still a little shaky. “I feel like I just did that in front of the entire school.”

“Don’t worry about that- in about two hours, when detention ends, it won’t matter, because they’ll all know every single gory, sexy, dirty detail.” He teases her, and without thinking, kisses her bright red cheek. “You saved me from two hours of miserable contemplation on my wrong deeds…” he twirls a curl of her delightful blonde hair between his fingers. Cat blinks at the kiss on the cheek, and looks shyly at him, but his eyes aren’t meeting hers, they’re looking at her hair. His stare is incredible; his green-brown-hazel eyes are staring at her eyes with a calculative, intense child-like wonder. It is scary how he can look at once so incredibly bewildered and then, sometimes, so relaxed and at ease.

“Patrick,” she whispers, but she didn’t mean it to be a whisper, it just happened that way. His eyes snap towards hers, and she finds herself out of breath under his gaze. She didn’t mean to say his name like that, she really didn’t. All she’d wanted to do was ask him, something, but she forgot…she’s losing her mind, right here, under his stare. His hands are warm as they brush lazily across her arms.

“Truly, I mean this, I apologize for yesterday…I was afraid of you being drunk and I dodn’t know…I fucked up, basically I was a huge ass. Will you ever forgive me?”

He wants to keep going and tell her everything but he feels like he can’t say anything more.

“Yes…” She whispers. He draws her closely, unable to look away from her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth, when Cat says again, “Should we get out of here?”

She untangles herself from his embrace and steps back from him- and it’s too far away. The sun glides on her pale blonde hair beautifully. Looking startled, Patrick looks around. He’d completely forgotten where they were, standing not even ten feet away from the school’s main doors.

“Where’s your car?” Patrick asks, squinting around towards the parking lot.

As he looks away, she looks at his hair, resisting the urge to run her hand in his mane. “I drove with Mandella this morning.” Cat states.

“My car’s parked a couple blocks away.” He glances briefly to the streets, and his mouth splits into a wide grin at Cat’s raised eyebrow. “Bite me- I don’t like fighting for parking in the morning.”

“Bite you?” Cat snickers, “Watch it, you might give me ideas.”

Patrick chuckles, “First flashing your football coach-“

“Soccer coach.” She corrects him, but Patrick rolls his eyes, continuing.

“-Now you want to bite me? Isn’t that a little kinky?”

“Rawr,” she says in a monotone, but he can tell the corners of her lips are twitching, trying not to smile. For some reason, all Patrick can think about is when Cameron told him that Cat wore black lingerie. He charmingly slides his arm over her shoulders, and messes a little bit with her hair.

“Good kitty. Come on, let’s go.”

“Good one. Cat. Kitten. Kitty. Never heard that particular pet name before,” she answers as he leads her away. She can’t explain, she wants to distance herself from him, so she ducks under his outstretched arm and restores their respective personal space. “Where’s your car, again?” she asks.

Glimpsing down the parking lot, she doesn’t notice Patrick creeping up behind her until he grabs her shoulders, and turns her towards the sea.

“What if we took a walk that way?”

She glances at the sea, eyes wide. She thinks about it a second, but he doesn’t give her much time to respond as he runs and leaps down the hill across the street, shouting like a delighted, long-legged, dashing kid.

Cat shakes her head. “Dashing?” she mutters to herself. Despite the little, delighted smile on her own face, she has to remind herself to stay guarded. He’d made a fool of himself for her, declaring eternal love for her in the craziest way, but there was still that nagging feeling in the back of her heart.

Cat is pulled out of her mind by Patrick’s voice, calling. “Are you coming or do I have to carry you down here myself?”

Rolling her eyes, she steps over the drying grasses and dirt and rocks and shrubs, following a nonexistent path that seems more even than the rest of the hillside. “Why do you want to come down here?” she calls out, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looks up to see him walking back up towards her.

“To get closer to the water and shove you in, of course.”

Cat raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “I very much doubt you’ll succeed. Try if you like.” Patrick gave her a wicked grin.

They walked across the large soccer stadium, Cat staying strategically away from the dark haired boy examining her.

“There is this wonderful invention called the camera. You might want to take a look into investing in one if you’re just going to keep staring at me.” Cat said, a little unnerved by his stare persevered.

“What was it that you were telling Coach… Something about distracting somebody...Misdirection perhaps?” Cat made a face, prompting him to grin. “I think you’re just naturally talented at being the centre of attention.”

Cat sighed. “Yay me. What I always wanted.”

They were now standing in the middle of the football field, and Cat looked up at the bleachers. “Centre of attention, huh? And what about your sappy little display of musical cheesiness?” she said, staring him up and down, seeming unimpressed.

He was standing close to her, staring down at her, smirking. “I think you liked it.”

Cat bit her lip, holding back a smile difficultly, “The band was a nice little touch.”

“Com’on, you wouldn’t flash your soccer coach if you thought my self-humiliating act of tender loving affection was a nice little touch- you like it. I bet you couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.”

“You think you know me, Patrick?” Cat challenged haughtily.

“I’m getting there.” He said quietly, his eyes crinkled slightly, “Its not easy.” He briefly wondered if this was his chance to truly start over- redo the car scene properly. If Cameron, the definition of naïveté, could get it right, so could he, dammit.

“You know, you’re not as vile as I thought you were.” He made a silly, twisted face for a brief moment, as if his odd facemaking could disprove her theory, “Sometimes.” She added for good measure.

There, basking in the hot sun in the middle of the deserted football field, Patrick briefly wonders if he should kiss her.

She beats him to the next move, clasping her slender, pale hand around his rougher one, and dragging him. “There are paddle boats down by the water. Want to rent one?”

Patrick looks at her, surprised. “Our second date on a paddle boat?”

“You driving me to and from that stupid party is not a date, cryboy.” Patrick winced slightly.

“Alright, alright. Fresh slate. Restart. Forget about the past. Paddle boats, then?” as they walk towards the end of the field, he embraces her from behind, whispering menacingly in her ear. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll push you into the water?” Cat, a far cry from a weakling, wiggles her way out of his grasp quickly.

“Try. And see who bails you out of detention next time.” Patrick laughs.

“Does that mean I can rely on you to bail me out every time I offend somebody’s sensibilities?” he asks her as he rushes to walk by her side.

Cat stops walking and turns around, pretending to think about it. “Let me see.” She replies with her best imitation of Bianca. “No.”

She stomps forward through the wooded path down to a small boardwalk along the bay. He follows, looking a little overwhelmed. “Feisty.” He mutters, eyes trailing up and down her slim body. It’s not like he never noticed it before. The dancing, her skills in soccer, she’s beautiful and she’s not even trying. She’s just trying to drive everyone around her absolutely crazy.

She turns around, looking at him. He wonders what witty, vicious thing she’ll say now. Instead, however, she smiles at him. “We only have ‘till midnight to get down there. After that, I disappear.”

He smiles back, meeting her eyes. “Whatever you say, princess.” She rolls her eyes, obviously not approving the pet name, but there is a semblance of peace between them again, and Patrick keeps silent the rest of the way down towards the water, smiling lightly as he hurries up and follows her down the path.