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“‘Sure you can double check my work against yours,’ I said,” Burr mumbled, his feet thumping against the floor of a nearly empty classroom. The repetition was soothing for the panicking teen, something familiar in an otherwise chaotically embarrassing situation. “‘The teacher will never notice,’ you said. ‘She’s a damn near idiot!’ you said--”
“I’m going to cut you off right there,” came another voice, this one slightly older and thick with annoyance and boredom. “I said she /is/ an idiot.” The boy smirked, a glint of mischief in his dark brown eyes. He was perched perfectly on the top of a school desk, his legs crossed as he watched the dark skinned boy in front of him walk the same path, over and over, anxious and wanting this whole day to be finished.
“She caught us anyway, Alexander, and now look. My father is turning in his grave,” his words were jumbled and fast, and they almost couldn’t be picked up by Hamilton as he moved further towards the door.
Alexander rolled his eyes, “You act like she threw us in prison. It’s and hour of detention, and obviously it isn’t very serious. She’s fifteen minutes late, and look at him, he’s solid asleep.” He gestured wildly behind him, and Aaron froze to get a better look. Sure enough, in the back corner was a kid in a pink t-shirt. His head was resting in his arms, and his wild curly hair hid every part of his face from the rest of this world.
“His own personal pillow--” Aaron commented in slight amusement. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is; I am practically a child prodigy. There’s no room for error, no room for tardiness or cheating or bad marks. Everything needs to be perfect, and you’ve ruined that for me.”
“Perfect? /Perfect/?” Alexander’s voice was bitter now, and he too stood up, stepping in front of the other boy and stopping him in his tracks. Their faces were only inches apart now, and Burr could feel every word Hamilton said against his skin, “you have never gotten in trouble in your life. I highly doubt that anyone in your goddamn backwards family would ever even give a second glance to this. Their little child prodigy, Aaron Burr, making a fucking mistake.” He took another step forwards, and as he continued, Aaron could feel his spit hitting his cheeks, “get over yourself, stop thinking you’re so goddamn important that a detention in the eleventh grade at fourteen years old is going to affect you in any way.”
A thick silence filled the air as Aaron pondered his reaction, but before he could reply, the mess of hair and drool came alive from the back off the room, doing it for him, “Will y’all just make out and get it over with?” His accent was thick and southern and as he spoke, he slunk back into his seat, kicking his feet onto the desk. “It’s going to be nasty whenever you do it, at least if you do it now I can know to avert my young, innocent eyes.”
It was unclear who pushed who away faster, but both boys retreated to their seats, each mumbling their own rendition of “I’m not gay.” Thomas, the southerner, looked way too pleased in himself, an evil grin on his face. At least that got them to finally shut up.