Oh, and I live in Australia. I usually post my chapters in the morning (now it's 6:08, actually) before I go to school. Heh. Australia's such a hole… lol. But it IS Friday, in America it'd still be Thursday, right?

My good news! This story (you've already guessed that I write ahead, I hope… ^_^;) has just hit over 60,000 words! Ye-haw! So there'll be a lot more of it to come… hopefully. *Grin*

*

Trust. As always. That stupid bitch always gets in before me. Always beats me to it. The perfect Kasumi always wins over the bastard child.

She watched him walk away. His footsteps were so quiet and nimble; it was almost as though he was gliding along the ground. He certainly did have a somewhat surreal quality about him.

Why did Kasumi have to get in before me? Even though I don't know him, even though I don't like him, even just the fact that I beat her to it would be satisfying in itself. Just once, I wanted to be better, I wanted her to watch longingly from the outside, staring in at me, instead of the other way around. I wanted to win the prize. I wanted to be accepted.

Almost on a whim, she opened her mouth to call him back, before shutting it again. It was better that he went away. She didn't have to stare at her stupid wretch half-sister's property. The sign that she had lost. Again.

But then again. He did say that he would have gone with her… but what difference did that make? He wasn't going with her. And he was probably saying it to make her feel better.

Saying it to be nice, like the gentleman that he was.

The best guys were always the unattainable ones. It seemed that one thing was constant, even between a public school and a snobby school.

She had just tried to be nice for once in her sixteen years of life. And it had come back and painfully bitten her on the butt. So what's the point of being bloody nice? All that happens to nice people is they get trodden on by bitches like that French shit-head. Or get ignored. Why am I even bothering being nice to Hayabusa, anyway? It's not as though I care what he thinks. More importantly, it's not as though he gives a shit about me…

She couldn't convince herself. She would have had to have been a fool to not understand the look that was in his eyes earlier. Genuine remorse when he told her that he couldn't go to the dance with her. As though he really did want to go with her, not Kasumi.

And his expression earlier, when she had been dangerously close to flashing her bum. Embarrassment, unlike most guys who would have craned their necks to get a better view.

He is what you call a nice guy. I, on the other hand, could never be like that. Not to mention that I'm a chick, not a guy, but even if I was, I'd have no hope.

I have no frigging hope anyway. That Raidou dick might have been right after all. I might just end up in the gutter. As if anyone would give a shit if I did. They'd probably go, 'that's nice, dear' and turn back to worshipping Kasumi.

The bell rang shrilly, signifying the end of the break. She ignored it.

Damn bloody freaking hell. Why couldn't I have got in earlier? Why do I have to be such a bitch to everyone? It doesn't get me anywhere, although sometimes it does make me feel better to see them squirm… why does Kasumi have everything and I have bloody nothing?

She got up, brushing leaves off her skirt, before sneaking in to grab her book bag, past the classrooms and out of the school altogether. I could really go a ciggie right now.

*