Alexander (CENTURIES series: Book #1)

2

"Aren't you going to write that down?"

"No."

"Won't you forget?"

"You know I don't forget, Soph."

How many times had I heard that one before? And how many fucking annoying times had he proven that to be true?

I knew he didn't have to write down what was on that whiteboard to remember it. It was incredible irritating. That was the thing with geniuses; Annoying. Especially when they were cocky as fuck about it, acting all superior like this particular specimen.

"Stupid photographic memory of yours," I mumbled, glaring at the quiz in front of us while Alexander grinned. "Do you want to start with the first question or should I?"

"You start. If you can."

"If I can," I mimicked with a glare. His smirk only grew. "Fine. What is... Pne..." I paused, looking at the impossibly long word on the paper. "Wait... Pneumono.. ultra... micro—what the hell is that?" I exclaimed and stared stupidly at the paper. "Are we supposed to know what that is?"

"Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis," Alex said after a quick glance at the paper. "It's an obscure term that ostensibly refers to a lung disease caused by silica dust."

"How... thee hell... do you know that?"

He shrugged casually. "My mom's a doc, you know that."

"So?" I scoff. "My dad is a banker, but that doesn't mean I know what the freaking currency in China is these days."

"4,75 yuan equals one Australian dollar."

"Fuck you."

"I never thought you'd ask," Alexander smirked superiorly, leaning down to me. "Just name a time and a place."

Rolling my eyes, I looked around the classroom and found people bent over their quizzes, probably sweating profusely like me. This was one of the hardest quizzes Mr Miller had given us, but luckily I had Alexander; the guy with a photographic memory. His memory snapped a photo of everything and stored it inside that perverted brain of his. Such a waste of good braincells.

"Dumbass." I said, jabbing him in his ribs with my elbow. He chuckled under his breath. "Pull your head out of the gutter and answer the next question."

He chuckled again, having to hold a hand over his mouth not to make any noise. We were sitting in the back but Mr Miller still kept a keen eye on us. "Alright, which one, Reynolds?"

"This one," I said and pointed at question two. "What is the atomic weight of iron?"

"55.85."

"You seriously know that, too?" He didn't even hesitate, the bastard.

Alex leaned down to my ear until I felt his lips just gracing my shell. "Brain is the new sexy, Sophie."

Hiding the chill that just passed through my body, I subtly cleared my throat and pursed my lips. "Whatever,  Sherlock. Next question; What does THC stand for?"

"Tetrahydrocannabinol. The principal psychoactive constituent of the cannabis plant." He replied, giving a knowing smirk. When I just stared at him, he chuckled again. "It's weed, Reynolds."

"Oh!" I grunted and wrote it down. "Why didn't you just say so?"

"I did."

"Yeah, in layman's term."