In Love, Against All Odds

Threads of Conversation

The next day, I walked into uni with yesterday's drama still hanging in the air. The cool morning breeze hit me as I strolled in with Alista, Vinita, and Brailey. I didn't say much, though—my eyes were busy scanning the crowd. Where was Patrick? He hadn't shown up yesterday, and yeah, I told myself not to overthink it, but still... I couldn't help but worry. Was he avoiding me? Or was it something else?

"Earth to Kat," Alista said, waving her hand in front of my face. Her smirk said it all—she knew I wasn't paying attention.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," I replied, trying to brush her off, but the teasing look on her face didn't go away.

"Sure, you are," she said with a chuckle. "Let me guess—you're scanning for a certain someone?"

I rolled my eyes. "Nope, just looking for... a coffee. I'm tired, okay?"

"Uh-huh, whatever you say," she said, flipping her short blonde hair over her shoulder dramatically.

We reached class, and I tried my best to focus. Tried. The professor was going on about design principles, and I was supposed to be taking notes, but my notebook ended up with doodles instead of anything useful. Alista caught me once or twice and just shook her head with that annoying little grin.

And then it happened. Just as class was wrapping up, Patrick walked in. My heart did this weird little flip thing, and I hated how obvious it felt. He was wearing a simple graphic tee, some ripped jeans, and a bomber jacket, looking effortlessly cool as always.

"Hey, Kat!" he called out, heading straight toward me. His grin made it impossible not to smile back.

"Hey! Long time no see," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Yeah, sorry about yesterday. My sister wasn't feeling well, had to take her to the hospital. Fever and all, but she's doing much better now," he said, running a hand through his messy hair.

I softened immediately. "Oh no, that sounds rough. I'm glad she's okay, though."

"Thanks," he said, his smile genuine. "So, what did I miss? Did Mrs. Page give another one of her legendary lectures?"

I laughed. "Oh, you know it. She was on a roll. But nothing too bad—you didn't miss much."

He nodded, leaning casually against the desk. "Good. Would hate to fall behind... Speaking of which, how's your project going? Still working on that sustainable fashion line?"

I lit up instantly. "Yeah, it's coming along! It's tough, but I really want to nail the concept. Recycling materials while keeping things stylish—it's tricky, but I love it."

"That's awesome. Honestly, I think it's great you're doing something that matters," he said, his brown eyes meeting mine. "Fashion can change so much, and you're already ahead of the curve."

I couldn't stop the blush from creeping up my neck. "Thanks, Patrick. That means a lot."

We ended up talking about everything—design, our favorite styles, and even random stuff like hobbies. Turns out, Patrick was into drawing and painting.

"You draw?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, kinda. Well, more like I'm obsessed," he said, shrugging. "It's probably why I skip class so much. I lose track of time when I'm working on something."

I raised an eyebrow. "You skip class to draw?"

"Guilty," he said, grinning. "But hey, it's not like I'm slacking off. I've already submitted all my sketches for the semester project. Mrs. Page didn't even complain."

"Wait, you submitted already?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah," he said casually, like it wasn't a big deal. "Drawing's kinda my thing, so I don't have to stress about deadlines."

"That's insane," I said, honestly impressed. "You must be really good."

He chuckled. "Let's just say I've had a lot of practice. My room's basically a mini art studio."

"That's so cool! You should show me sometime," I said without thinking.

"Sure," he replied, a little surprised but smiling. "But only if you promise not to laugh at the mess."

"I won't promise," I said, grinning.

By the time the bell rang, we were still talking about his art—how he loved sketching outfits, landscapes, and even random characters he imagined. He made it sound so effortless, and I couldn't help but admire how passionate he was.

"Lunch?" he asked as we packed up.

"Sure," I said, trying not to sound too eager.

We walked to the cafeteria together, grabbing seats by the window. My usual table was a few spots away, and I could feel Alista's eyes burning holes into me from there. But for once, I didn't care.

Lunch with Patrick was easy—like, really easy. We talked about his favorite artists, my favorite designers, and even our shared love for streetwear.

"Art and fashion kinda go hand in hand, don't you think?" he said.

"Totally," I replied. "Both are about expressing yourself. Just in different ways."

"Exactly," he said, his eyes lighting up. "That's what I love about it. There's no right or wrong—just creativity."

By the time we finished eating, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. For a second, I almost forgot about the mess with Bradwin, the breakup, and all the drama that came with it. Patrick was like this weird breath of fresh air, and I wasn't sure what to make of it.

After lunch, we went to our next classes, but his words stayed with me for the rest of the day. For once, things didn't feel so heavy.

When the day ended, I headed home feeling... different. Better, even. Patrick was still on my mind, but it wasn't the overwhelming, confusing mess I thought it might be. It felt... nice. New. Like maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something good.

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