He wasn't supposed to be there. That's the thing about Gatwick Matthew Patil. In the pristine, ivory-tower world of the Sinclair family, Gat was an outsider who somehow became the center of the universe. If you’ve read E. Lockhart’s We Were Liars, you know that We Were Liars Gat isn't just a love interest. He’s the catalyst. He is the person who forces Cady—and the reader—to look at the rotting floorboards beneath the polished surface of Beechwood Island.
Honestly? Gat is the only reason the Liars ever stood a chance at being real people.
The first time we see Gat, he’s just a kid with "too much energy." He’s the nephew of Ed, who is the partner of Penny’s sister, Carrie. Because Ed isn't a Sinclair, and Gat certainly isn't a Sinclair, they are guests. Permitted guests, sure. But never owners. That distinction matters because it defines every interaction Gat has with the family, especially with the patriarch, Harris Sinclair.
The Outsider Who Saw Everything
Gat wasn't just a boy in a book. He was a mirror.
While the Sinclairs spent their summers pretending that money didn't matter while simultaneously fighting over who would inherit the Clairmont house, Gat was reading Heathcliff and thinking about the universe. He was the "Man of Sorrows." He was the one who noticed that the staff on the island were treated like background scenery.
He felt the weight of his skin color in a place that was aggressively, blindingly white.
You’ve probably noticed how Lockhart describes him. He’s intense. He’s messy. He has this habit of writing names on his hand or staring so hard at things it feels like he’s trying to deconstruct them. He didn't fit into the "tall, blond, and handsome" Sinclair mold, and that’s exactly why Cadence fell for him. He offered her a world that wasn't built on lies and trust funds.
But being the outsider came with a price.
Harris Sinclair’s treatment of Gat is one of the most uncomfortable parts of the book to revisit. It isn't always overt. It’s the subtle exclusions. It’s the way Harris looks through him. It’s the way the family’s "democratically shared" island suddenly feels very private when a person of color who challenges their worldview is standing on the dock.
Why the Romance With Cadence Was Doomed
It’s easy to call it a YA romance. It wasn't. It was a collision.
Cadence and Gat were "The Liars" alongside Johnny and Mirren, but their bond was different. They were the intellectuals. They were the ones who saw the cracks in the foundation. Yet, Cadence was still a Sinclair. She had the privilege of being "pure" in her grandfather's eyes, even when she was breaking. Gat never had that luxury. He knew that one wrong move would get him kicked off the island.
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He was constantly balancing his love for Cady with his awareness of the injustice her family represented.
Think about the roses. Remember when Gat told Cady not to pick the roses because they have lives too? It sounds like typical teen angst or "deep" poetic posturing. But it wasn't. It was Gat’s way of saying that the Sinclairs think they can own and destroy anything beautiful just because they have the money to buy the soil.
He saw the entitlement. He hated it. And yet, he loved the girl who was the heir to it.
The tragedy of We Were Liars Gat is that he tried to be the conscience of a family that didn't want one. He pushed Cady to be better. He pushed the Liars to take a stand. That's what led to the fire. That’s what led to the "accident" that changed everything.
The Fire and the Truth About Gat
Let’s talk about the fire. If you haven't finished the book, stop reading. Seriously.
The Liars decided to burn down Clairmont. They wanted to destroy the symbol of their family's greed. They thought that by erasing the house, they could erase the fighting, the alcoholism, and the manipulation. It was a beautiful, stupid, teenage idea.
Gat was the one who really understood the symbolism.
He wasn't just burning a house; he was burning a system that viewed him as "less than." But the plan went horribly wrong. Because they were young, and they were drunk, and they were desperate, they didn't account for how fast the flames would move.
The revelation that Gat, Johnny, and Mirren died in that fire is the punch to the gut that most readers never see coming.
When Cady spends Summer Seventeen talking to Gat, she’s talking to a ghost. Or a memory. Or a manifestation of her own guilt. The "Gat" we see for the majority of the book is Cady’s mind trying to process the fact that she killed the person she loved most.
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The "ghost" Gat is different from the real Gat. He’s softer. He’s more patient. He’s there to guide her toward the truth because the real Gat would have demanded the truth. He wouldn't have let her hide in her migraines and her memory loss forever.
Was Gat Really a "Villain" in the Sinclair Story?
If you asked Harris Sinclair, he might say Gat was the corrupting influence.
From the perspective of the "old guard," Gat was the one who put ideas in the children's heads. He was the one who made them realize that their grandfather was a tyrant. But that’s a narrow way to look at it. Gat was the hero of the story because he was the only one who was actually honest.
He didn't pretend the world was perfect.
He talked about the plight of people in other countries. He talked about the history of the land. He challenged Cady to think about someone other than herself. If Gat hadn't come to the island, the Liars would have probably grown up to be just like their mothers—bitter, entitled, and constantly looking for a way to secure the biggest slice of the inheritance.
Gat gave them a way out. It just happened to be a way out that ended in tragedy.
What Most People Get Wrong About Gat's Motivations
Some critics argue that Gat used Cadence to get back at the Sinclairs. That’s just wrong.
Gat’s feelings for Cadence were clearly a source of immense internal conflict for him. He felt guilty for loving her. He felt like he was betraying his own principles by participating in the Sinclair summer fantasy. There’s that scene where he talks about his life back home, his girlfriend Raquel, and the "real world."
He lived in two worlds.
In one world, he was a bright, politically active kid with a future. In the other, he was a "hired hand" or a "charity case" on a private island. He wasn't trying to steal the Sinclair fortune; he was trying to figure out how to exist in a space that was designed to exclude him.
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His intensity wasn't "crazy." It was a reaction to being ignored.
When you re-read the book, look at the way Gat watches the adults. He sees the drinking. He sees the way the sisters weaponize their children against each other. He’s the only person on that island who isn't performing a role. Everyone else is wearing a mask. Gat is just Gat.
Actionable Insights for Readers and Re-readers
If you’re heading back into the world of Beechwood Island or recommending the book to a friend, keep these points in mind to get the most out of the experience:
- Watch the Hands: Pay attention to when Gat writes on himself or others. It’s his way of making things permanent in a world where everything (like the Sinclair favor) is temporary.
- Track the Literary References: Gat isn't just "well-read." His references to Wuthering Heights are specific clues about his role as the Heathcliff figure—the person who comes into a wealthy home and inadvertently tears it apart.
- Question the "Ghost" Conversations: Once you know the twist, look at the dialogue between Cady and Gat in Summer Seventeen. Notice how Gat never interacts with the physical world in a way that leaves a trace. He only exists in the spaces Cady creates for him.
- Analyze the Racial Dynamics: Don't ignore the subtext of Gat being South Asian in a colonial-style family setting. It’s not just a background detail; it is the core of his conflict with Harris and his feeling of displacement.
We Were Liars Gat remains one of the most compelling characters in modern YA because he represents the "uncomfortable truth." He is the reminder that you can't build a paradise on a foundation of exclusion and expect it to stand. The Sinclairs tried to keep the world out, but Gat brought the world with him.
In the end, the island didn't change Gat. Gat changed the island.
He didn't survive the fire, but he survived the Sinclair's attempt to erase him. He lives on in Cady’s (and our) memory as the boy who dared to ask "Why?" in a family that only wanted to hear "Yes." If you're looking for a lesson, it's that being an outsider isn't a weakness—it's the only way to see the truth clearly.
Go back and read the "Variations on a Theme" sections again. Look at how Gat is described in the fairy tales Cady invents. He is often the beast, the mouse, or the forgotten son. But in every version, he is the one who loves the princess enough to tell her the house is on fire.
And sometimes, the only way to save someone is to let the whole thing burn.
Don't just remember the twist. Remember the boy who made the twist inevitable. Gat wasn't a liar. He was the only one telling the truth.
To fully grasp the impact of Gat's character, your next step should be to read the prequel, Family of Liars. It provides the necessary context for the Sinclair family's history of secrets and helps explain why Gat’s arrival was such a shock to their carefully curated system. Examining how the previous generation handled their "outsiders" makes Gat’s journey even more poignant.