Page 4 of Ramsay

I can’t explain it but something about him calls to me on a cellular level. I guess I recognize his brutality. Maybe I crave it. Like speaks to like as they say, and the cracks in my persona have become holes concealing a darkness that desperately wants to be free.

I’m hiding behind my lies and on a good day, it’s all I can do to keep my facade in place.

It’s why I avoid them at all costs. I can only spend so much time regretting my existence before I get tired of myself. Besides, I suspect they’re closer to the shit than I’m willing to go—it can’t be a coincidence that Diem’s last name is McCafferty.

Sabrina catches my eye later at cheer practice, barking orders like a drill sergeant. She’s in a mercurial mood, origin unknown, but when she gets this way, it’s best to steer clear, an impossibility until this infernal day comes to an end.

When I moved here a year ago, I sold my soul to the devil in the form of the blonde, blue-eyed powerhouse currently staring down Maxie Rhodes with an evil eye. I suppose it can only be explained away as a desperate feeling to fit in and belong, to cast off the shadows of my past. Little did I know, the cost would be so high.

Coming to Sterling High was my opportunity to reinvent myself, and I chose a persona that was so opposite of the ‘me’ from before that I lost who I was to begin with somewhere along the way.

My parents fearing for my health whisked me away to a new school in a new town with warnings to shape up. Of course, with them, there’s never a sentence after the dot-dot-dot. Or else what?

Will you kick me out? Send me away? Beat me? Talk to me? Notice me?

I was left with the great unknown, but I knew I was spiraling even without their threats. I saw where I was headed, and with that in mind, I resolved to find my way again, even if it rankled that it agreed with the parental unit.

Seriously though, I could never have countenanced that being amongst the popular dickheads would be just as fucking bad as before. Who knew the other side was just as rife with tragedy?

On the streets, there’s a hierarchy. Here, there’s a fucking caste system. If you’re not born into privilege, you’re nothing. Unless they lift you up and place you within their ranks. The problem is, once you’re there, you’ve sold your soul and there is no going back.

“Stand up straight, Rhodes, this isn’t a fucking party. What’s the matter, suck too much dick last night?” Sabrina sneers, her pretty features pulling into a mask of feral distaste.

Maxie’s miserable expression drops in mortification, but she complies like the good little sheep do, like I do. We all breathe a little heavier, hoping to avoid Sabrina's wrath. She hates nothing more than feeling as though she’s on the receiving end of unified censure. I think she must lay awake at night after nightmares of losing her top bitch status—it’s that important to her.

“Will, drop down and angle your shoulder,” she says, and I comply, keeping my eyes straight forward and my expression blank.

Moving down the line, she whips out more vitriol, and I go back to my musings, drumming up Ramsay’s brutal stare while Diem beat the shit out of Jensen. A double whammy, taking down Jensen a peg while getting a front-row seat to Ramsay’s perfection.

What lurks behind his cool stare? Sheer devilry I suspect. Although even Ramsay doesn't know what crawls beneath my skin, the nod to humanity, I cloak myself in every day to fool the senseless masses. Perhaps he’d be surprised to see beneath the layers. I know I am.

“Will!” Sabrina snaps, breaking me out of my reverie.

I whip around and bite back the snarl on my lips. Her eyes narrow on mine, a challenge from one alpha to another, but I’ve no skin in this game, I remind myself and back down without a fight.

She smiles, smirks really, and I turn away, taking deep even breaths.

I’m not who I was, and I’m not who I am. I’m not who I want to be.

Practice breaks shortly after, and I grab my bag, eager to move along. I’m crawling out of my skin, and I need the time to put myself back together.

Of course, my plans are derailed when Sabrina's grating voice calls out over the din, “Bitches, don’t forget, party at Diesel’s house tomorrow after the game. Will, hold up.”

Stopping in my tracks, I grind my molars, the sharp pain reminding me to keep my cool. The longer I play this game, the harder it is to pretend, mostly because Sabrina won’t stay off my ass.

“C’mon,” she tosses over her shoulder as she passes me.

Following her out, I glance around the lot, shivering in the fall air. I’ve always hated the dark, for it hides nefarious things best left in the shadows.

The darkness is where I lost my humanity and with it comes the reminder to stay in the damn light. I refuse to contemplate what happens if I don’t.

This is why I follow the bitch I love to hate as she stalks across the lot, her legs, long and lean but stocky. She has no grace like some of the other girls. She’s built for power, and I can see her jealousy when they prance by, where she leads like a fucking horse.

Whipping around when she gets to her car, she says, “Patrick asked me about you today. Be prepared to give him a little extra attention tomorrow.”

“Uh, what?” I ask. “What does extra attention mean?”

Huffing, she says, “Just talk to him, let him know you’re interested. He’ll do the rest.”

---