One

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•Alexander's POV•

Great. Late on the first day of senior year. I take a breath before walking into my first period class, hoping I have it with anyone I know. When I enter the room, the only person I recognise is Thomas Jefferson. Great.

The next thing I notice is that the only available seat is next to Jeffershit. That's fine. I'll live. I take my seat and pull my things out, doing my best to ignore him. My plan works for the most part, until the bell rings. I gather my stuff together, but as I walk out the door I hear Jefferson saying something behind me to someone.

"I still can't believe hamilslut somehow got into such an advanced class. Probably fucked Washington or something." Trying to ignore him I continued to walk, hoping to find one of my friends, preferably John. No such luck. Jefferson continues behind me.

There's no doubt he knows I can hear. I fucking hate when he does that. "At least he knows what he's good for. I mean he's just some weak immigrant. All he's good for is a good fuck." I feel the heat rising behind my eyelids.

I turn around, done with Jefferson's shit. Next to him is James Madison, looking bored, and Aaron Burr, looking neutral as always. "Why don't you shut the fuck up! You speak like you're not living off daddy's money." I exaggerate a pouty face. "I mean. Unlike you I can work hard enough to get somewhere on life. I'm not a trust fund baby."

That seems to get to him and I smile. My victory is short lived. "Hamilton, we all know you'd do anything for a pretty penny. It doesn't take much to get between your legs." Jefferson paused while my anger boiled. How dare he! "I'm sure Laurens would know. He probably pays you too. You're just a whore. Like your mother."

That was it. Fine. Talk shit about me. Don't bring John into it. Everyone knows we're just friends. I couldn't take it. He had also mentioned my mother. Before he could continue I ran into the nearest bathroom for a good cry.

It took some time but once I calmed down enough I grabbed my pen and decided to talk to my soulmate. T. It's what I had always known him as. I grabbed my emrald green pen and scribbled something on my arm.

Hey. I wrote with shaky hands and you could see something was up.

After a few moments his response in a sparkly magenta ink- he knew how much I hated the color but over the years it had become my only source of comfort. You feeling okay? You're writing looks kinda shaky.

Not really. I wrote. Some asshole kept calling me a whore again. Brought my mother into it this time.

Another few moments before I got my response. Don't worry about him. He's not worth it. I smiled a little.

I know. I can't wait until I meet you in person. It's going to be amazing.

Yes it will. After that there was no more speaking as he begun to draw stars. I smiled to myself. They reminded me of my home in the Caribbean.

Thank you.  Was the only other thing I wrote.

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