A/N: Okay, okay. I feel like a hypocrite. I actually stayed up to 4 in the morning (in Taiwan--halfway around the world from Central Standard Time), just to start on and finish this piece on 10TIHAY. Absolutely my favorite show of the year. And possibly longer too, considering I don't watch much shows.
This story scenario is completely made up by yours truly, and simply to entertain all of us with the idea of Patrick being 'understanding' for once. Not letting Kat off the hook--she actually gives up her pride, as well as her judgementalness on Patrick some. It's kind of a mutual give thing.
There are some allusions in here. For those of us that don't know, we've got a new president. No political comments are needed--just ones about the story. The others are about literature.
Okay, since I think I'm about to conk out anytime soon, I'm just going to leave the disclaimer, and get off. Oh and this too: those of you that read, please I don't know what stupendous situation you're going through in life, like summer boredom or whatever, but PLEASE review. Thanks~

P.S. This story is Complete.

Disclaimer: I do not own 10 Things I Hate About You. Not the show, the movie, or the original unplagiarized Taming of the Shrew. God help ya'll if I did with those lawsuits ;).

There were many things that happened today that had Kat, at this moment, royally pissed off. An exceptional (but somehow, not 'outstanding') grade on her English paper… her government teacher that waved off her feminist outlook during what should've been an 'open' class discussion… seeing Patrick Verona with another of his decorative/ bang-able chicks… she supposed the list of niceties would go on. It wasn't so much that those things pissed her off—there were very few injustices in this pathetic school that didn't—but more of, not having the usual things that 'didn't' piss her off.

First of all, Mandella was out sick the last few days. There was an influenza going around. Not swine flu. Barack may be prez, but she didn't see any winged farm animals up in the air yet. Gawd, how she hated that joke.

That took out not only her only trusted companion and friend at school, but her caring wastebasket of 'niceties'.

Second, her radio broke. No, Kat wasn't the girl on the street that rocked her head to 'A Thousand Miles'. She was the girl that got pissed off because it meant she lost NPR for the day. Or maybe even a week.

Third… well, she couldn't think of a third. She'd have to brainstorm that one sometime later. Just not during the moment that she was trying to get to class, and when minute bell had just rung.

Kat whisked in the door to her Economics class just in time that the tardy bell rang. Okay, good. No more detentions this week. Squeezing through the narrow space down her aisle, she dropped her bag unceremoniously by her desk and sat down.

Mrs. Patterson seemed to wake out of her seemly bored reverie. You know, the type that most students would approve of. And over-achievers (like Kat) would utterly detest. She blinked her eyes, as if regaining awareness of her classroom, and yelled loudly at its state of chaos.

"Okay, that's enough, Enough! What do you think this class is, a nursery? This isn't something I signed up for…" She began muttering in distaste to herself. The class, having heard it everyday since the beginning of school, paid no attention.

"Alright! Today's assignment is to summarize and do partnered presentations of Chapter 11 in the textbook. The list of topics is up here—sign up for your poison. Choose your own partners. During the last twenty minutes of class we will present. That is all."

And so with her required lecture done for the day, she reclined in her seat and promptly elapsed back in her melancholic reverie.

Trust Patterson to come up with something like this, of all days. Oh wait. She does this almost everyday.

Kat grumbled to herself as she idly flipped open her textbook to the eleventh chapter. Her eyes glazed over the paragraph mentioning demand elasticity. As if she didn't go over it already, trying to prep early for things as usual. As she pored over the corny cartoon that came alongside of it, it just hit her that she didn't have anyone to partner up with that day.

She looked to the left of her. The whole gang of gaggling preps were already deep in 'study'… or rather, about the new clothing line that came out in the mall recently. In a sense, that was good news for her. Not so much for her assignment's grade. Simply saying, the last time she tried to solo it out she received 'half marks for only following half the instructions'. Raising it to the school counselor didn't work that time either.

She looked to the right of her. The jocks were grouped up and with faces concentrating and huddled close, were diligently discussing last night's game. Michael saw her look his direction, and he dipped his head back quickly in his group of similarly sexually-obsessed friends. No luck with that… not that she wanted any.

That left her only Patrick. Staring at his back in the front seat of her row, she pondered if her day was really that suckage for Verona to finish douching up. Kind of like the 'Fatality' in Mortal Kombat. Not that she ever played the game… call it boredom when eating at Chuck E. Cheese's during Bianca's eighth birthday.

But all for the Ring From Brown.

So biting back irritation and something that was like (but couldn't be) anticipation, she walked to his desk with her book in hand.

As she looked into his aggravating dark and fathomless eyes, she knew that her entire dignity was sold off to some distant land, and she could never get it back.

"So what brings you here, Darkwitch?"

Kat pretended to choke. "Oh don't tell me you read The Troy Games Saga now. It's hard to keep up a bad rep with letting people know you read adult fantasy."

Patrick merely raised his eyebrows in the only way that could inflame her ire with such a simple facial movement.

"Tsk tsk, so hasty to conclusions are we? My girl cousin reads that stuff. I'm the victim to her gory descriptions of the interc—"

"Okay, okay, I didn't need to know that," Kat said wryly. "Just tell me you'll have the section on Inelasticity down before our time to present."

"Oh yeah? I say we first cover that silly obsession you have on me," Patrick grinned boyishly at her. "Unless you're still in the closet about it all."

It was then that Kat knew her day was already sentenced to royal pain. Not that 'he' was in any sense royalty… but his sorry-ass mouth was. In the sense of douche, not duke.

"Closet was burned down. Sorry for not giving the notice. Now let's get this over with."

Over the next fifteen minutes Kat learned that males deserved every bit the name that they built up for themselves. Like, you know. The name sloth. Useless garbage. Bona-fide Nincompoop.

She ended up just writing everything on a sheet of paper when the teacher gave the notice that the class was presenting.

Just as the teacher announced their topic, Kat finished her hastily-scrawled summary and shoved it in Patrick's hands. He glanced over the page and gave her a look that clearly said 'I'm not reading your graffiti, no matter how artful it is." Kat just rolled her eyes at him and motioned him to go and present.

Patrick sauntered towards the front, and the teacher yelled at the class to 'be respectful'. Kat put her head down but held in her breath, waiting for him to start reading.

It must've been that Tuesday, not Monday, was the day that was chosen to be completely and utterly miserable for her. Patrick looked at the paper, and frowned. And looked. And frowned some more.

She wanted to bury her head in her hands and despair over her Ring. Well, maybe not that. But certainly a lost A.

Kat knew it wasn't her grade that really bothered her though. It was the fact that she buried her pride and came over to his desk in the first place. The fact that she endured comment after comment, remark after remark of narcissism, self-absorbedness, and cockiness. Not to mention the plain asshole-ness that got served with the douching. And all for an unreliable presentation partner who couldn't even at least manage to read her notes.

She felt like she wanted to call today The Day Unmentionable, and leave it blank in her private journal.

Then, like an old song which name you've forgotten and only knew half the words to, she realized someone was speaking. Not stuttering, or pausing in any way—but speaking forcefully, with clarity and understanding. It took her a few seconds before she realized that person was her failure of a partner, Patrick.

"Demand elasticity can be thought as a lever. You have price on one side, and demand on the other," Patrick explained, using his arms as model illustrations. "The lower one is, the higher the other will be. It doesn't matter whether it's price, 'or' demand. The goal is perfect elasticity—where there is no weight on either side of the lever." He held his arms straight to demonstrate the concept.

If the class' silence signified everyone was shocked, Kat didn't know if what she felt that moment signified anything. All she knew is that she couldn't keep her mouth closed, and even though was getting a feeling that some bug could fly in it at any moment, she had no thought to close it. He was repeating—okay not just repeating, but showing that he understood perfectly what she had exasperatingly tried to teach him just earlier—and with such unquestionable confidence that made his indifference to education seem only just an act.

Woah, maybe it was an act…

"Now Inelasticity," at which point Patrick sent Kat an undeniably amused smirk. Kat couldn't help but smirk back sheepishly. "is nothing but proof of a business' inefficiency and ineffectiveness. Picture it like a straight, vertical drop. Kind of like Dungeon Drop, except that it's much too fail for your money."

The class laughed appreciatively, and Kat found a smile coming on her face. Even the teacher found the energy to sit up in her chair.

And so the class had its first interesting lesson in the record of the entire school year. When Patrick Verona finished, the entire class gave him their appreciation in a gracious round of applause. He bowed, directed a smirk at Kat, and walked back to his seat.

After class, Kat ran up to catch Patrick in the hallway.

"…Okay, so I have to say. Where did that come from?"

"From your little college lecture, Dr. Kat," Patrick raised his eyebrows at her, grinning.

Kat looked at him exasperatedly. "Okay, okay. But why didn't you even show that you were paying attention the whole time?"

He grinned even more widely. "Just thought it would be funny to see you mad over this. Never knew you were the type to care for grades, Hermione."

Kat didn't try to stop the grin that spread across her face. "And never thought you would actually try to 'get' a good grade… should I say, Ron Weasley?"

Patrick gave one of his deep (and aggravatingly attractive) chuckles, as he leaned towards her ear. "Only if we get to make-out in the middle of basilisk fangs."

Kat stood stock still as she watched him walk away. Damn—she never even read that part yet. She bought the book, but got too busy when they started moving to California. Not that she didn't intend to pick it up again… but somehow this happened to give her more motivation.

With that in mind, she set off towards her locker, and then next period. Which happened to be BCIS, a required class she had to take at Padua (though not in her old school), and also something Kat wasn't looking forward to. Not even a bit. Or byte, if you're at least attempting to be enthusiastic she supposed. Not that it was the case.

Somehow though, she managed to get her day back. Even with all the odds against it. Still, you can't guess what the forces of… purely authentic desperation… can do. At least that's what she guessed (hoped, desperately wished) it was.

But whatever it was, it just happened to upend everything for her that moment. And may've actually made her day.