Page 3 of Ramsay

Is this my lucky day? Usually, I’d be halfway across the room, observing them from afar.

Oliver’s the intellectual one, with his stellar grades and $3 words. He can outwit anyone who tries, and most don’t because they’d be hard-pressed to understand what he’s saying.

I had one class with him last year, advanced chemistry, and he was so far ahead of the rest of us, the teacher let him experiment with shit while we struggled through the lessons. He’s no longer in any of my classes, because let's face it, he’s too fucking smart to hang out with the plebs such as us.

I admit to no one but myself, but I think he’s hot when he shows his smarts, not caring what others think of his IQ.

His green eyes glance my way absently before he turns back to Ramsay, once again not really seeing me. I should be grateful because being in Ramsay’s presence has reduced me to a drooling idiot. I’m quivering with need, and it’s not cute, but it doesn’t prevent the tingle of disappointment anyway.

“I suppose we should break it up,” Ramsay says with a curl to his lip and Oliver nods, murmuring, “Coach Cruse would be mighty disappointed to lose his star player.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Ramsay says.

Oliver just rolls his eyes and sighs, “We hardly need the attention of the faculty right now.”

Ramsay nods, and steps away straight into the fray breaking up the fight easily by stopping Jensen’s fist mid punch with his hand.

My jaw drops, I’m sure it does because Ramsay may be the leader of this group but he’s more likely to allow Diem to use his fists while he tears you down with his arctic glare.

And fuck me, but the sheer power behind his hand is shocking in a good way.

Diem may be the bruiser but Ramsay’s no slouch and greedily, I eye his form, wishing I could see the sleek muscle I know is hidden beneath the urbane facade.

The ease with which he intervened is so hot that my core tingles painfully, my hormones already vibrating, now at Defcon five.

“Enough,” Oliver says calmly, approaching with his flat eyed stare boring into Jensen. “Move along before you get suspended from a game, and your whole identity becomes a wasteland of disappointment and tragedy.”

“Whatever, man,” Jensen grunts, his face a Rorschach of color.

He’s gonna hurt tomorrow, no doubt, and I hide my smile behind my hand as Jensen turns and stalks away with Sabrina rushing after him, but not before casting a furtive glance in Ramsay’s direction.

Tools.

Bemused, I watch Diem turn to Oliver with a scowl, but Oliver just grunts, “Now isn’t the time. If you want to fuck up his world, how about you don’t do it in front of the whole school?”

“Fuck off,” Diem mutters, staring after Jensen with glittering eyes.

Absently I note that Maeve slinks down the hall while I wonder, why does Diem hate Jensen so much?

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”

It takes me a full minute to realize the cool voice is directed at me and turning, I meet Ramsay’s gaze, caught out in the brilliant depths, the color striking against his dark hair and complexion.

“Run along now, wouldn’t want to miss your big day shaking those...pom-poms,” he says, raising a brow.

Flushing under his amusement, I bow my head and turn away. Since the Sinners hate Sabrina and her followers and vice versa, I’m guilty by association and as far as I know, they've never touched a girl in our group as a result.

Despite my disappointment, a small part of me is tingly all over with pleasure that he actually spoke to me. Noticed me. Me.

“Who’s that?” Diem murmurs behind me.

“Nobody,” Ramsay dismisses, and my earlier euphoria fades. Right.

∞∞∞

The remainder of the day passes in a blur of longing and self-castigation. I’ve been unable to get past Ramsay since the day I laid eyes on him a year ago and he’s only grown more mysterious.

Where the other boys pander to the god of social norms, the Sinners laugh in the face of it. They no more care what others think of them than the janitor down the hall, aimlessly washing the floors. This makes their appeal that much keener because who among us doesn’t secretly wish to be free of the ridiculous expectations put on us by our peers?

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