He gazed over my shoulder. “You forgot your bag,” he said, lowering his hand and calling attention to my stuff. “Wouldn’t want to forgot that.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I held back and grabbed it. I was sure knowing Ramses I’d find out. He was always one to speak his mind after all, at least when it came to me.

Thirteen

December

The guys de-academied themselves in Ramses’ Mercedes Benz, removing jackets and pushing up shirt sleeves to “blend in” once we got to the party. Crestfire Hills turned out to be more than an hour away, and since I had worked with Ramses, I trusted these guys not to murder me—for the most part. Ramses was definitely aware of me in the passenger seat, but I think mostly because of his friends. They were complete jocks. Seriously, the way they talked about sports, video games, and girls… needless to say, I heard it all and laughed through most of it. Being with them all reminded me of better and normal times, though I hated to admit that. The car trip reminded me of homecoming night, the moments before things got shitty and my life had been kinda all right. In actuality, the strange comfort of the feeling triggered something that had me putting distance between them and myself the moment we did get to the party. It was in some kind of frat house on campus, the “welcome” sign making the event out to be some kind of open house. Bodies mingled and drank, drank and mingled like a typical college social gathering. I attempted to move away from the party I arrived with in the influx of it, but I noticed Ramses stayed close. He looked out for me, even going first so I could walk and stuff through the crowd, and I didn’t know if it was because he felt he had to (maybe since he took his sole, female coworker more than an hour away), but whatever compelled the boy in half an academy uniform to take care of me tonight. He actually looked kind of in his element here, his tie and academy jacket gone and his dress shirt untucked. He left all that and who he was in the car, standing before me kinda thicc with the surprising amount of muscular definition he usually kept stashed away behind chunky sweaters of various designs. He definitely wasn’t a nerd. At least a weak one. He looked at me. “So this is a college party.”

Laughing, I nodded. “Apparently.”

His eyes smiled more than his mouth, but not in a bad way. He’d never been one to be flagrant about being happy. I could tell he wanted to sometimes, but was obviously very cautious about me and what to make of me. At least, that’s what I assumed. Again, I’d given him a reason to be hesitant about me so I didn’t blame him for all that. Through the party people, we made our way to the kitchen, and when Ramses grabbed some red Solo cups off the platter of many for us, I eyed it. “You really trust that?”

Obviously thinking better of it, he cringed before tossing them both and filling us fresh cups from a nearby keg. He gave me one, and by the time he filled another, I’d already drunk mine. I handed him back the cup, awesome at drinking. I shook for another, and his eyes bugged the hell out.

“Whoa there, tiger. Save some for the fishes,” he said, though he poured me mine. He handed it to me.

“Fishes don’t drink,” I told him, getting a big ole gulp. I waved it for him to top me off, and raising his thick, dark eyebrows, he did.

“True. Though you should probably take it a little easy,” he said.

He wasn’t in charge of me, but since I’d gotten myself into trouble the last time I heavily drank, I didn’t fill my cup any more after taking another sip. I gestured toward his cup. “You just going to nurse that or let me make a fool of you?”

His pride clearly at stake, Ramses lifted his cup but made a point to shake his head first before taking a swallow. Joining him, we did so together, but I didn’t guzzle down what I had this time. We ended up taking our drinks as we walked through the house and came across one of his friends, the mini-monster-truck-sized one who looked a little like Chris Pratt if I squinted. I mean, I had to squint really hard but I could see it. Anyway, the dude was totally under another keg, sucking down booze while a couple of shirtless guys with spirit paint on their chests chanted him on.

Ramses tucked a hand under his armpit, shaking his head. “Can’t take him anywhere.”

“Obviously,” I said, smiling a little before taking a drink. I noticed Ramses’ more than familiar eye on me, and I lowered my arm. “What?”

His doe-colored eyes narrowed a little, his look curious when he tilted his head. “What’s your deal anyway?”

“Deal?”

“Yeah. You weren’t in school today.”

“You weren’t either.”

“I had a reason. School and all that’s basically bullshit for me. I get ahead super fast and really just spend the time sleeping. Senior year has especially been a joke. I’m ahead like three credits but I have to go to graduate.”

Jesus. He was smart, a nerd albeit an unconventional one.

I wished my reasons for skipping class had been the same as his, but because they weren’t I either had to lie again or come up with some fraction of the truth to give him.

“I was in school, but I’m not now,” I said, choosing the truth. I shrugged. “Don’t need it in the place I’m at in my life right now.”

“Which is?” he asked, then pointed toward my arm. “And what’s with the bag? You carrying your life in there or something?”

Damn, I knew I should have left this thing in the car.

It was instinctual not to, someone could take it from me. All I had. I adjusted it. “I’m not in school because I don’t want to be. Happy?”

“Not really,” he confessed, taking another sip of booze. “Just more curious.”

I had my own curiosity when it came to him. I pointed at him now. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“It’s one thing for you to leave a town… that one you said you came from because of college, but it’s entirely another to just up and leave in high school—which you obviously were in.” I tried to sound passive about it, shrugging. “What really happened there? Why did you leave?”

Tags: Eden O'Neill Court High Romance
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