Hey, all! I'm happy to see that you guys are enjoying this even though it's most likely terrible. Chapters are probably going to be short until I get back in the groove of writing in third person again. I'm a bit rusty. Hopefully you lovelies enjoy! ~Shaymie

Thirty-six minutes. That was how long Alexander had been waiting for his new student. After about ten minutes, he decided to start getting his actual job at the library done before Burr or Angelica started yelling at him, but he kept his eyes on the isolated table in the back. At around twenty-five minutes, he decided to pack his stuff up and put it behind the checkout counter so nobody could steal it (not that anybody would want his ratty old backpack, but you could never be too safe in New York). At thirty-five minutes, he had been in the middle of reshelving some books, climbing down the ladder and grabbing another book that belonged on the top shelf. At thirty-six minutes (and forty-four seconds), his student had finally shown up, calling his name as he descended the ladder again. He nearly jumped out of his skin and put a hand to his chest. The boy stared back uninterestedly, his eyes showing no emotion. He already looked bored, and none of the actual teaching had even started yet.

"You're Hamilton, right?"

"You're late, Laurens. You're lucky your father's paying for two-hour sessions." Alexander sighed at the pile of books still sitting on the rolling table. Suddenly he was regretting taking Henry Laurens' request to tutor his son and "straighten him out". With special emphasis on the word straighten. Granted, he was getting paid an exorbitant amount of money. And it wasn't like he had to spend all his time with the guy. It was only a few hours after school and every other weekend, after all. But John Laurens was infamous around school for being an asshole and a stoner. Alexander had lost count of all the times he had seen him smoking behind the gym or in the locker room.

"Sorry, Hammy. I had better things to do than sit around in a dusty old library, learning about shit that isn't going to help me later in life." Laurens threw himself onto a nearby chair and hiked his feet up onto the table. Alexander glared at him and walked over to the counter to grab his textbooks. The shit he put up with for money… The guy was cute, with his abundance of freckles and dark curly hair that was threatening to break from its elastic, but looks meant nothing if his personality was terrible.

Laurens turned out to even worse than all the other children Alexander had ever had to tutor. Hell, he would have preferred tutoring Lucy Jefferson, and he hated the little brat. When Laurens wasn't making snide comments about his appearance-"Love the hair, Hammy. Very school shooter chic."- he was staring off into space, drumming his fingers on the table. Alexander was prepared to yell at him to pay attention when he caught a whiff of the stench of weed. Of course he had been smoking. He was almost always smoking.

"Laurens?"

"Sup, beautiful?" Alexander's face flushed, but he quickly steeled his gaze. Curse this beautiful stoner with the beautiful eyes and the fingerless gloves that normally looked ridiculous, but he somehow managed to pull off. He wanted to call off this tutoring deal already, say that there was no way he'd be able to deal with such an irritating guy, but he honestly needed the money. Every little bit counted, and Henry Laurens' money was sure to help. He'd just have to suck it up and deal with it.

"Don't call me that," Alexander muttered, ignoring the flush that went over his face. He tapped at an equation on the paper with the eraser of his pencil and sighed. He already knew the answer to the questions he was going to ask, but he had to ask anyway. "Do you understand any of this? Have you even been listening?"

"That would be a double negative, captain." Laurens mock-saluted and slammed his hand on the table, earning him a glare from Burr. Alexander shot him an apologetic look and sighed. He looked down at the table when Laurens slid over a wad of cash. His payment, he assumed. But there were still thirty minutes left, why was he paying now?

"What are you-"

"It's so I don't forget and take the money. Dad would kill me if I blew the money on… recreational activities," Laurens said as Alexander started counting the bills. He felt like $250 a session was definitely overkill, but apparently nobody else wanted to teach the guy. It was easy to see why, given his personality. And his "recreational activities", which were stinking up the back corner of the library. How long did that odor linger?

The rest of the session was the same, Laurens staring off at the wall, occasionally making a flirtatious remark if he came back to reality for more than two seconds, and Alexander grinding his teeth furiously. If the guy wasn't going to take the tutoring seriously, why the hell did he even bother to show up? There were a million and one things Alexander could be doing instead of trying to teach an ungrateful stoner. It was like talking to a brick wall. A wall that was covered in freckles and reeked of weed. He was almost relieved when Laurens swept all of his belongings into his backpack, gave another salute, and left the library almost as silently as he came.

"Good riddance." Alexander packed up his things and bid farewell to Burr before starting the long walk to Lafayette's house, shivering in the cool air. His jacket had far too many holes to even be considered remotely fashionable. Hercules and Lafayette had both offered him some of their old clothes, but they were too tall and/or bulky and the clothes just didn't fit. Even their clothes from middle school didn't fit. Maybe a trip to Goodwill was in order sometime soon, before it got even colder. Alexander put a hand in his pocket and frowned when he felt something brush against him. He grabbed the thing and took it out. It was a small slip of paper. When had that gotten there? There wasn't much written on it. Just a phone number and a name.

John Laurens, you smooth son of a bitch.