Kat: A Fender Strat? Is this for me?
Patrick: Yeah. I thought you could use it. You know, when you start your band. Besides, I had some extra cash, you know. Some asshole paid me to take out a really great girl.
Kat: Is that right?
Patrick: Yeah, but I screwed up. I fell for her.
Patrick: It’s not every day you find a girl who’ll flash someone to get you out of detention.
Kat: You can’t just buy me a guitar every time you screw up, you know.
Patrick: Yeah, I know. But then, you know, there’s always drums and bass and maybe even one day a tambourine.
7:40 pm • 9 November 2009 • 1,276 notes
Kat: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick. It even makes me rhyme. I hate it… I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh; Even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around. And the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you; Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
7:10 pm • 9 November 2009 • 4,977 notes
Bianca: Are you okay?
Cameron: Never been better.
6:40 pm • 9 November 2009 • 292 notes
Kat: Tell me something true.
Patrick: Something true? I hate peas.
Kat: No. Something real. Something no one else knows.
Patrick: Okay. You’re sweet. And sexy. And completely hot for me.
Kat: You’re amazingly self-assured. Has anyone ever told you that?
Patrick: I tell myself that every day, actually.
5:39 pm • 9 November 2009 • 1,760 notes