Despacito~♡~ Jamilton ✓

20

"Alright. Good morning everyone. I'm George Washington, I'm your Debate and Law teacher for this semester. I'll be leading you through the laws and commandments of a proper debate session. Any questions?"

I start to tune out as clueless students that start asking questions and someone sits down next to me. I glance and them but them growl.

How? How does Jefferson just so happens to be in the same class I'm in?

"Really? There wasn't another open seat?" I scoff, not even looking at him.

"If there was, you think I would've sat next to you, Hamilshit?" He shot back while getting his laptop out to take notes.

"My bad. I just naturally assumed you'd be dumb enough to sit by someone who legitimately hates you with every living, and dying molecule possible in their body. Excuse me." I pay attention to Washington again.

"Oh Hamilton, that time of month again?" He teases and I flicked him off.

"Oh shut up, you overly used  meme."

"What is that even supposed to mean?"

"It's a guy thing. You wouldn't understand it."

Payback, bitch.

We stopped arguing for the rest of the time, class ending when Washington handed out a syllabus so we know what we'll be learning. When ever is out of the classroom, I approach him.

"Hey what's up, Alexander?"

"Can you change my seat? I hate Jefferson and he hates me. We'll kill each other if we don't move."

"Sorry son. You have to learn to deal with your problems like the young adult you are." He ruffles my hair and I smack his hands away.

"Stop that! It takes forever to put my hair in a perfect ponytail!"

"Boohoo. Get to class."

"Get to class." I mock while exciting the classroom.

..Jefferson
I sigh. Another class Hamilton and I were in together.

And it just so happens to be my favorite class.

Creative writing and literature. (Thats what college writing classes are called, I did ma research)

He sat three rows in front of me, next to I think Hercules. Or was it Madison? Oh well.

He looked scrappy as always, wearing a pair of light washed jeans and dark blue sweatshirt. And god, the man couldn't even put his hair in a correct ponytail. It's not that hard.

Why do I care? It's not my fault the damned dwarf doesn't know how to dress himself properly.

I was wearing a magenta dress shirt, black jeans and a  matching purple and white tie. Not to mention I kept my hair in braids the night before so it could be extra curly today.

Yes. I know what I'm doing, sweetheart.

Anyways, Mrs. Adams talked for what felt like years about what our first writing prompt will be. And guess what it was....love.

She could've picked flaming cars or dinosaur folk and even butterfly shrimp but noOOO. She had to pick love.  So fucking clichè. And I just noticed everyone was groaning.

Who wouldn't?

"Alright, I know you're all upset about having work on the first day, but trust me. It'll be worth it." She clasped her hands together.

"Now, you can either write a story about someone trying to figure out the meaning of love or you can just explain in your own words what you think love is. Anyone who tries to plagiarize or copy off the internet will be caught and charged. You have three days. Any questions?"