Problems

|| Chapter 6 ||

Okay so in this chapter we got ourselves a bit of a debate with Hammy and Jeffershit.

My Opinion, though it is valid, is NoT SubJecT tO ConGrESSioNaL ApProVAl

But yeah, debates... two sides of it... I won't say which I agree with since we're in 21st century, and legit everyone gets offended at everything.

Enjoy (I wrote a debate for you all >:)
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"John, move your ass. I don't want to be late to my first history class."

Alexander was standing in the doorway while John scrambled around, looking for his stuff. Alex sighed and sipped his coffee. He had been up since 2 am, with nightmares plaguing his dreams. Caffeine was the only thing keeping him awake at the moment.

Finally, when John had gotten his crap together, they headed out. John threaded his fingers through Alex's and Alex smiled up at his boyfriend.

His boyfriend.

It had almost been two weeks, and they had been the best days of Alex's life.

Alex walked into the lecture hall and took a seat. He was excited; he had always had a passion for history. He had looked forward to the class for the past week, and even more so when he realized that his teacher was none other than Mr. Washinton, the kind man who had helped him on his first day.

To his left, a familiar guy with a bushy afro walked thorough the door. Alex locked eyes with the man and realized that he was the same guy that had called him a fag on his first day. Alexander narrowed his eyes.

"That's Thomas Jefferson."

"What?" Alex looked over at John, who was whispering out of the side of his mouth.

"Thomas Jefferson. He's basically the most popular guy on campus." John scowled. "He's a jerk."

"Oh," Alex said. He glanced at Jefferson again. The guy was wearing a loud magenta coat and his hair seemed to get bigger every second.

"And... He likes debate." John's eyes slid towards Alex. He knew how much Alexander liked a good argument.

Alex grinned. "This ought to be fun," he said happily.

"Ok, class, during this semester we will be studying the Founding Fathers and delving deeper into the American Revolution." Mr. Washington smiled at his students.

"We will also be having a few debates tossed in there as well. Speaking of which, we will be having one today to help break the ice."

(Prepare yo selves)

Alexander was practically glowing. He loved debate. He glanced at John, who seemed to shrink in his seat.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alex murmured, putting his hand on John's.

John shuddered. "I hate speaking in front of people."

Alex frowned. He wanted to help his boyfriend, but just as he opened his mouth, he was cut off.

"Mr. Jefferson, you are up first for debate." Mr. Washington looked up from a peice of paper inhis hand. "Who would you like as your opposing team?"

Jefferson scanned the room. His eyes roamed over people until they stopped on Alex. A malicious grin spread over his face.

"I'll take the immigrant," he said, eyes glinting.

Alex went red. Immigrant? What was this guy playing at?

Mr. Washington pursed his lips, obviously not liking Jefferson's choice of words. "Mr...Hamilton, is it?"

Alex nodded.

"Please come to the front of the room."

John hid his face in his hands.

"Relax, it'll be fine," Alex muttered out of the side of his mouth, and stood up, walking down the aisle until he stood at the front of the room.

Mr. Washington gave Alex a small smile before turning back towards Jefferson.

"Your topic will be inspired by our current persident's views on immigration. Jefferson, you will be on the opposing team, while you, Hamilton, will be pro-immigration."

(Shit's about to go down like it's 1776)

If possible, Jefferson's grin grew. A viscious light glinted in his eyes.

Alex stared back at him, refusing to give in to Jefferson's look. He lifted his chin a little in defiance.

"Jefferson, you'll be starting off first. Go ahead." Mr. Washington stepped back.

"Immigrants... where do I start? They poison our society, making the country rotten from the inside out," Jefferson began, narrowing his eys at Alex before turning to address the rest of the class. "They slip into our borders, undetected, and take the jobs that our men have worked hard for. They don't have to fight for things, they get them handed to them out of pity. They are overrunning this country. No wonder California and other states are having water shortages, the immigrants that either work the fields or sit at home are taking too much. They are leeching out our resources, they take the already limited supplies of our country and waste it. We need stronger borders. We need to start more deportations. We need. Them. Out," he concluded, turning back to stare at Alex.

Alexander could practically feel the steam coming out of his ears. He stepped forward, and near the back of the room John let out a small groan.

"Immigrants-yes, where do I begin?" Alex questioned, not trying to hide that he was mocking Thomases intro, and he, too, faced the rest of the room. "They are fleeing from their own goverments. From the natural disasters that devastate their countries. They have no money, no food. They need help, yet no one is offering it. So, yes, they are crossing the border. But without immigrants, where would we be? They do the jobs no one is willing to do. From working in the fields," his eyes flickered to Jefferson for a second, " to helping clean our streets and schools. They have nothing when they get here. So they start from scratch. They aren't like us; they work for their whole lives to get to where we are right now. When we are born, we get a house. We get money. They begin with nothing."

"No wonder you look the way you do." Thomas jeered.

"Excuse me?" Alex turned to Jeffferson.

"Your mother was a cheap whore who couldn't even buy you good shoes!" Jefferson spat, and he glared at Alex.

Alexander felt rage bubbling up inside him. Yes, his shoes were a bit tattered. Yes, his clothes weren't the best. But his mom had been a good woman. Not a whore.

"Turn around, bend over, and I'll show you where my shoe fits!" He snarled, and Jefferson lunged at him. The class Oo'ed and snickers erupted.

"Okay, OKAY! That's enough!" Mr. Washington flung himself between the two boys. "Jefferson, take a walk. Hamilton, take a walk!"

Jefferson glared at Alex, but reluctantly stormed back to his seat. Alex sat down in his own and John leaned over.

"Jeez, Alex, I think you made yourself an enemy you really don't want." He glanced nervously in Jefferson's direction.

Jefferson's eyes bored into him from across the room. Alex stared back at him.

"I don't care," he replied, "I can handle it."