Alexander

9

Alex's POV

I knew the moment our lips connected that it was a mistake. And this proved it. He could have at least gone with the verbal route and spread rumours about me instead of vandalizing school lockers.

Now everyone that passed by locker 168 knew that whoever's it was was trans. And a slut, too, apparently. I plopped into my chair in Science. Thomas Jefferson sat next to me, slamming his notebooks onto the desk.

"Hey, Hamilshit." He grinned. "Would you prefer Miss or Mister in front of that?"

"Would you prefer the stick up your ass or in your eye?" I shot back.

Aaron Burr, who sits behind Jefferson and I, chuckled. Thomas huffed, pushing my shoulder a bit.

"Fuck you." He said.

"You wish." Was the last thing I got in before Mr. Adams walked in.

-

I walked into the cafeteria. As I expected, the majority of seats were taken since I was late. I spotted Laurens with Laf and Herc at their table. He made eye contact with me before I turned and rushed to the hallway. It was deserted, which I was happy about. I placed my bag on the ground and pulled my makeshift notebook out. I never found my old one.

As I wrote the date, I heard footsteps. I ignored it. They slid down the wall next to me, sighing.

"Alex, I'm sorry. I didn't do anything an-"

"-I don't want to hear it. I regret kissing you or giving you the satisfaction of knowing my secret. Fuck off." I dismissed him, continuing to write the date in my notebook.

"No, Alex," he grabbed my wrist, "you aren't listening or letting me speak. I didn't do anything. We don't know who found out, or how, but we can hunt them down. What do you say?" He stuck out his hand. "Partners in crime?"

I hesitated. Are you sure it wasn't him? It wasn't. It couldn't be.

I shook his hand. "Partners in crime."