A/N: So fuckin' angsty! Ha, I didn't even intend for it to be, but this chapter turned out to be one of the angstiest ones yet. Alas, my fair readers, all will change in the next, very large installment: The Halloween Ball! Yes, yes, everyone will be in the next chapter (or two, depending on the size, and ease of reading) and it will be much lighter, sillier, and a little bit dirtier. (; Hope you enjoy!

Kat sighed. She sighed again and held her arms out straight from her sides, her fingertips brushing, just barely, the cold stone walls of the maintenance closet. One would think that paying fifty-thousand dollars a year to go to one of the top boarding schools in the world would afford a student the right to change room assignments if there was a disagreement between roommates. However, the headmaster had been quite unfeeling when he'd told Kat that she would have to work out her differences and stay right where she was.

Kicking the corner of her trunk, the same trunk she'd lugged up the stairs that fateful first day, Kat felt like crying. Crying not only because of the throbbing pain now in the toes of her right foot, but also from the complete and utter fuckery that her life had become in the past week. She had gone from having great friends, and being wanted by one of the most handsome, funny, whatever-other-gag-worthy-adjective boys in the school, to trying to find a place to store her favourite pair of Choo's amongst the mops and buckets. Slumping down onto her trunk, Kat covered her face with her palms and bit her lip, painfully holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't leave; there was nowhere else for her to go. But she wasn't too keen on staying, not at a place where everyone hated her, at least. It was going to take some serious self-talk, some serious ball-growing, for her to be able to make it a day longer at Hogwarts. Maybe being stuck in the closet was just what she needed.

Theo was always the player. He was the one who played games, the one who had conveniently left out the fact that he had a girlfriend when he'd shared a bed with Railey so few nights ago. And to be honest, Railey was done with it. However, was she done with him? Definitely not.

Groaning deeply, Theo thrust gently against Railey as she ground herself into his lap in a teasing manner that rewarded him with practically no relief. He'd tried, to no avail, to get her uniform skirt off for the past half an hour, and it just wasn't happening, as was evidenced by his swollen lip from a nip that had drawn blood.

"Rai… fuck, Rai, stop teasing," he muttered and Railey lifted her head from the crook of his neck, smugly glancing at the huge love bite she was leaving.

"No, you stop teasing, Theodore," Railey growled. "You want me?" She pressed against him intimately, causing him to groan once more. "Then win me over. Drop your underage girls, and win me over. Take me out, surprise me, beg me to be yours. Win me."

She stood up, snorting at the obvious bulge in Theo's trousers. "And take care of that before your roommate gets back."

Kat emerged a day later with a list, composed of three very essential things to her survival at school. Wearing a triumphant smile and her favourite pair of Alexander McQueen black cigarette-leg jeans, Kat read over her list once more:

"1. Apologise to Draco.

2. Discuss feelings with Blaise while bashing him over the head repeatedly with hard object.

3. Let the fuckers at this school know that it takes a bit more to get rid of me."

He'd been alone on the soccer pitch for going on three hours, driving the ball into the net, perfecting his penalty shots and dribbling the length of the field so many times he lost count. Draco had decided to turn his confusion and anger and plain hurt into something slightly more productive than crying in the boys' shower when one thinks no one is listening. So much had changed in so little time: he wasn't with Pansy anymore, he wasn't friends with Blaise anymore, he was hardly even team captain anymore. When had his life turned to such shit? His father was the fucking Earl of Wiltshire for chrissake; he should be living a privileged life, a life in which he gets everything he could ever want.

Draco pivoted with the ball, turning the other direction and heading towards the other goal. He put all of his energy into this one last sprint, pushing himself, imagining a defender trailing just behind him. Glancing up to the goal, Draco stopped so abruptly that he tripped over his own feet, landing hard on the grass in front of him. On the crossbar of the goal was Kat, her legs dangling in the air below her as she balanced precariously. In her hands was a piece of poster board, one of several, he could tell, from the other corners peeking out from behind it. It read, "I'm sorry."

Draco pulled himself to his feet, and advanced slowly on her, not even bothering to brush the grass and dirt from his kit. Kat let the first poster fall, revealing the second. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Draco only scowled. Kat wobbled uneasily, but let that poster follow the other to the ground. The next one read, "I'm an idiot," and Draco couldn't help but smirk affectionately. "Forgive me," the last poster read and Draco was scowling again, almost below Kat now. Words failed him, and when he finally could speak, he could only come up with, "How did you get up there?"

"Jumped," Kat joked weakly before pointing to an unfamiliar figure, retreating back to the campus. "Actually I had a little help."

The tension between the two was as thick as the silence that followed and Kat finally had to lower her gaze from Draco's unnerving stare. She felt as though he could read her thoughts or see her insides – both things she wasn't so fond of.

"So," she finally continued when she couldn't take it anymore, "Will you accept my apology?" Draco's nose scrunched pensively and Kat felt like she'd already lost.

"No," Draco said in a voice that was oddly hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "It's not worth it." Kat's knuckles turned white where she gripped the metal pole and she closed her eyes in a last stitch effort to keep herself composed.

"Nothing's been right since I met you, Kat," she heard Draco continue and her jaw clenched against the instant hurt she felt. "I didn't mean to feel how I did towards you. I don't know what happened. It's not like me. Everything was great before we met. I had the girl, the best friend, the… the fucking mental stability!" She heard him sigh in frustration, but she couldn't open her eyes. Tears caught in her lashes and Kat took a steadying breath, wishing she were on the ground, wishing she didn't feel so fucking humiliated.

"You could've changed everything, Kat," Draco murmured just loud enough for her to hear. "But now I'll never know. I don't want to know. I just want my life back."

Kat felt her wall break, and the tears slid easily down her cheeks. Opening her eyes, she saw him for the first time, standing there, just as hurt as she was, without the right to be.

"Help me down, will you?," she asked quietly and he stretched his arms out to her. She tumbled down easily and he gracefully caught her and placed her on the ground once more. His eyes gave away how uncomfortable he felt and Kat figured she'd save him the trouble of awkwardly excusing himself.

She turned and ran.

Blaise jumped half way out of his chair, upsetting most of the things on his desk, when the door to his dorm was slammed open, banging against the wall angrily. He'd expected to see Draco, in another fit of rage, fists already curled to fight, in the doorway. Kat was a surprise, a much unexpected surprise.

"You were right," she breathed, her cheeks red from the chill outside, her eyes red from her tears. Blaise stood up and stared at her inquisitively. She looked like hell. Although, he had to admit, he'd never seen hell look quite so enticing before.

He watched her close the door hastily, tear at her sweater hastily, throw her camisole on the ground hastily before he finally questioned her.

"What are you doing?," Blaise asked incredulously, closing the distance between them to grab her wrists and stop her fingers from unbuttoning her jeans.

"You were right, Blaise," she said more forcefully, her chocolate eyes trapping his own cerulean ones. "I wanted it. I still want it." Pulling at her wrists, she whined lightly when he wouldn't let go. "I need it." Her last words were like a small electric shock and he dropped her wrists, stepping backwards. There was no thinking, hardly any breathing, and Kat took advantage of his carelessness to wrap around him, to kiss him lightly on the lips, the jaw, the neck. What she had said hadn't been lies; she wanted this just as much as she wanted it to be with Draco, and what the hell did that mean about her. She was just a whore, a filthy whore who couldn't make up her mind and ruined lives everywhere she went.

"Kat… Kat," a voice said forcefully, bringing her back to reality. Blaise gripped her biceps, holding her away from him, though it took quite a bit of strength. "No. No, this isn't right." Her anger became tantamount to her previous sadness and she glared at the boy in front of her, the boy who looked suitably rumpled from her attack.

"Kat, whatever this is, it's not worth it." The words echoed in Kat's ears and she could swear the world was against her in that moment. She hardly noticed picking her clothes up and sliding them back on, hardly heard Blaise's soft questioning, saw the look of confusion in his eyes.

Unwanted. She'd had too much, and now she had nothing. And fuck her list. That was the last time she would ever write something out.

The girl standing in the doorway to Kat's closet was unfamiliar, but she stepped into the cramped quarters as if they'd been friends forever. She shoved a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee in Kat's direction, waiting for the girl to hesitantly accept it before speaking.

"I heard that you were living in here. A bit pathetic, but understandable," Railey said, tucking a strand of straight hair behind her ear. "I'm Railey, and I'm in the year below you. We've never spoken before, but I've heard enough about you to assume that you probably need someone to talk to before you go absolutely mad and jump off the West tower. Kat frowned at the assumption, but said nothing, only sipping at her coffee.

If she was being honest, Railey was a welcome sight. The past week had been a constant cycle of sleeping and going to class and ignoring what had happened with Blaise and Draco. There was some eating thrown in there as well, but only when completely necessary to keep her from passing out. She needed something, someone, anything at all to save her from going completely mental and either offing herself or getting on the first plane back to the States.

"Look. I don't pity you," Railey continued, seeing Kat's look. "Nor do I intend to coddle you and tell you everything's going to be okay. I'm sure there are plenty of other girls here who would do that, but not me. You can respect that, I'm sure. " Kat nodded slowly, spinning her inherited Cartier ring around her finger absentmindedly.

"I do know that we've both been fucked over." Railey smiled ruefully, the first sign of any emotion since she'd entered the closet. "And what's worse than being fucked over is dealing with it all alone. I mean, you can hardly plot revenge when it's just you in this closet." Railey sat down on Kat's half-unpacked trunk and patted the empty space next to her.

"Now sit and tell me what's happened. Planning will come after."