Hey guys! Please note that I do not own Hamilton. Lin owns Hamilton! If I owned Hamilton, I wouldn't be on writing a Hamilton fanfic.
Also, thanks to my great beta reader: Snowcrystal of Thunderclan!
The rest of the class passes almost lazily until it's time to go. Well, for everyone else. I may not get very nervous, but I certainly am not excited for the end of class. I also don't get to engage in the next debate because Lee was at the clinic. Instead, I watch some of the others. John Laurens is against Lafayette. Both are relatively good debaters, but if I were judging, I would have chosen Lafayette as the winner. His points flowed more, while John's seemed good but all over the place.
At the end of class, I pretend to pack up my books as I wait for everyone to leave. Thomas stops by my desk as I wait for everyone to go.
"Hey Alexander," he says. "You really showed that guy, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess I did," I reply dejectedly. He wasn't helping my mood by trying to tell me what I did was a good idea. I knew what the consequences of my actions might be, but I still punched Charles Lee. Thomas' attempts to cheer me up aren't working.
I look around and notice everyone else has left the classroom. "Thomas, I hate to say this, but can you go? I don't want anyone around for this."
"Okay," he says. I notice his pained expression but I don't say anything. I know what opening my mouth at the wrong time can do.
"Professor Brown, sir." I address the teacher.
"Alexander Hamilton," he returns. "What should I do with you? Hitting a fellow student, even provoked, is not acceptable. Now, you may have heard that college doesn't have detention. That means that students with errors for misconduct either gets a mark on their record or suspension. The suspension comes with a mark. If you don't want suspension or expulsion, defend yourself and your actions."
"Sir," I say. I gather my thoughts for a second before continuing. "I support LGBT+ rights. I believe that all people should be accepted. Mr. Lee told me he thinks transgender people should not be accepted. I disagree. I know that striking him was not the best way to show my disagreement, but I do disagree."
"Well Alexander, I can assure you that I agree with your assessment of the situation, particularly the part saying striking our is not the best way to show your disagreement," says Mr. Brown. "However, that does not excuse the fact that you have hit another student. For that reason, I must give you one strike. If you misbehave twice more, you shall be sent home."
"Thank you, sir," I reply. He nods his head as an acceptance and a dismissal. Quickly, I leave the room, holding my books. As I make my way back to my dorm, I see John Laurens and Lafayette. They are walking with Hercules Mulligan.
"Nice job debating," I call out to John and Lafayette. They smile and walk towards me.
"This is the man whom I was talking about, Alexander Hamilton. He punched Charles Lee in the face," whispers John. I smile at his comment, much like the stereotypical college student, John is ready for a fight.
"Thanks, Alexander," replies Lafayette in response to my call. "Though, I am sure I lost."
"I quite disagree," says John with a smile. "You totally had me."
"Stop them or they'll never stop," whispers Hercules. I nod and smile. I bet their self-deprecating natures can be endearing but that they can probably also be annoying.
"I, for one, agree with John," I say. "Lafayette's points were more organized than John's."
"Thanks," says Lafayette. He looks down at his shoes, blushing. John simply smiles, and if he's upset, he doesn't show it.
"You don't take debate, do you?" I ask Hercules.
"No, I'm a Costume and Set Design major," replies Hercules.
I check the time and realize that I have journalism in a few minutes. I tell the others. "I've got to go, I have journalism in a few."
"Okay, but first can you put your number on my phone?" asks John. I nod. He holds it out to me. I take it and type in my number. John adds my contact. "Do you want to be in a group chat with the three of us?" I nod again and he adds me to it. "See ya, Alexander."
Bye," says Hercules at the same time as Lafayette. I smile while John smirks at them. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, like the two of them are a couple. I doubt they are, but I feel my matchmaker side kicking in.
"Bye guys," I say. "See ya around."
I turn and start walking to my Journalism class. When I get there, I see benches facing the teacher. This is more like what I expect for a college class. I walk and sit down in the second row, next to a pale-haired boy.
"Hi, my name is Alexander. Alexander Hamilton," I say. I turn to face him and look him in the eye.
"Hi, I'm Aaron Burr," he responds.
"What's your major?" I ask.
"Law. You?" He replies.
"I'm also a Law student. I'm minoring in Creative Writing," I say. We look at each other then switch our gaze to the floor. Neither of us knows what to say. Just when the silence gets long enough to be awkward, the professor walks in. I turn to face the front of the classroom and grab my pen and paper for notes.
The class continues as a normal college class. Mainly just a lecture, but about rules and regulations. The teacher hands out syllabuses. I place mine under my notes and continue to take notes.
Class ends relatively quickly. Aaron Burr, the guy I was sitting next to, walks up to me.
"Hi," I say good-naturedly. He looks at me and smiles just a bit.
"Hello. Do you want to compare notes?" He asks.
"Sure," I say with a smile. No one had asked me to compare notes before. To be honest, I doubt that anyone at my old schools had ever taken notes, let alone be bothered to compare them. They would have tried to memorize the material on their own. Well, I guess that's why I'm here and they aren't. I forget all about my question.
"So, where do you want to do this?" asks Aaron.
"Umm, the library? I hear most students study there," I say. He nods. "Do you know where the library is?"
"Not really, no," replies Aaron. I pull out my map with a sigh and scan the map for the closest library. (This is Princeton, it's got to have more than one library.) I find it, only a few corridors away.
"This way," I say with a smile. He smiles back at me. We walk the halls for about five minutes until we arrive at Monroe Library. They tend to name important places, like libraries, after important people. Aaron walks in front of me and holds the door open for me. I nod in thanks. He smiles and leads the way.
I look around the library. I see a small section with computers and another section with tables. There are a few open ones. There are also books. Tons of books. I can see a whole section on the law. I hope I can check some out, but I don't know how. I think I'll ask the librarian after I compare notes with Aaron.
He leads us over to a deserted table. I'm surprised there aren't more people studying, you know, on the first day of college. I'm glad my teachers gave us work, including an article for journalism. I got out my notes and showed them to Aaron. He got his paper out. I blushed as I saw his neat handwriting, not cursive, but nice compared to my messy scrawl. (I know that Hamilton's handwriting was actually relatively good, but for goodness sakes, this is a fanfiction. Who cares?)
I start to read his notes, and he does the same with mine. They are generally the same until I get about halfway done with the first page. His notes say that Benjamin Harris was the first journalist in America. That's the same as mine, but then his paper says that he published "Publick Occurrences, Both Foreign and Domestic" in 1690, while mine says 1693.
"Hey, I think one of us got the date wrong about Benjamin Harris' work. Your notes say 1690, but mine say 1693," I say. He nods and looks up at me. I smile tentatively.
"Here, let's go check online," replies Aaron.
We walk over to a computer. He sits down in front of it and I pull another chair up to watch. He types in some stuff and gets to google. To be honest, I have no idea how he did it, but he did. I know there is a good reason as to why I only use my laptop. Aaron types some more until he gets the screen to say 'Benjamin Harris published Publick Occurrences, Both Foreign and Domestic was published in 1960'.
I smile and say, "You were right."
He nods, and I continue smiling. He knows he is right, but he doesn't brag about it or tease me. Aaron seems so unemotional. To be honest, I'm slightly jealous. I have often been told I need to control my emotions. Here, Aaron does it with what looks like ease, but I guess that's the point. Still, I'm jealous.
He looks at me and awkwardly nods to our table. I follow him back and continue looking at our table. It's an awkward situation, but after a minute I relax and Aaron follows suit. The rest of the time goes pretty quickly with each of us reviewing the others and before I know it, I'm done and going to leave.
"I hope we can do something like this again," I say. He nods and smiles. "When do you have journalism next?" I ask.
"Friday," he responds. He doesn't seem to talk much, but he also puts up with my talking.
"Me too!" I exclaim. "Do you want to study after class again?"
"Sure."
After that meeting, I go and talk to the librarian. I end up checking out two books. He is quite nice about it, too.
I carry the books underneath my arm until I get back to dorm 154. I slowly open the door and look around to see Thomas sitting on the couch. He has a laptop on his lap and he seems to be typing away. I walk to my bedroom and go over my notes for a little while. Then, at about 7:30, I hear a voice southern voice call out to me. Thomas. "Alexander."
"Yeah," I call back.
"Can you come here?" asks Thomas.
"Sure," I respond.
"Have you eaten anything?" he asks. I think about what I had eaten today and respond.
"Yeah, I had an energy bar for breakfast," I say aware of how pathetic it sounds, even to me.
"I'm making dinner," declares Thomas, not out of the blue, per say, but surprisingly.
"Um, okay." I'm confused, why is he obsessed with my eating habits all the sudden? Thomas then goes to the store, saying he needed to get stuff. I shrug and go back to my work. When he returns, he is carrying a bag in each hand. He has butter, cheese, and macaroni. I raise one eyebrow at him and he blushes.
"I like mac and cheese, don't judge me," he says defensively.
"Sorry," I say, looking down at the floor.
"It's fine," laughs Thomas. I laugh too, partly to cover up my embarrassment and partly because his laughter is contagious.
Thomas makes dinner. I offer to help, but he refuses.
"Alexander," he calls when he is done.
"Coming," I say. I walk out to the kitchen and see Thomas. There is also a large pot and two bowls. Thomas spoons some mac and cheese into each bowl.
We sit on opposite couches in the main room and make small talk about our day. I tell Thomas about talking to Lafayette, John, Hercules, and Aaron. In return, he tells me about the boy he debated, James Madison. It turns out James was also in his Literature class, which went well.
"So, what did Mr. Brown want to talk to you about?" Asks Thomas. I gather my thoughts and respond.
"He made me explain my actions, and I got off with only a strike," I say.
"Cool." We continue talking 'til we finish our food. Then, we go back to our old spots working on our papers. At around 10:45, I go to sleep.
So, that's Chapter 2! I hope y'all liked it! I have no idea when Chapter 3 will be out, so bear with me on the wait.
QOTC from Aaron Burr: 'Just you wait' or 'Wait for it'?