"SO, MISS HAMILTON," Mr. Laurens starts, dapping some sauce off of the corner of his lip with a napkin before resting his hands on top of the table behind his plate. I notice his gold ring on his ring finger. I look up as I lift my fork, munching on some white rice, my eyebrows arched as a sign for him to continue. Mr. Laurens leans back a little in his chair, resting his folded hands on his stomach now. "Tell me about yourself. I don't think we've properly got an introduction last time."
I set my fork down and wipe away the sauce from the corner of my lip with my napkin as well before placing it back down. I meet Mr. Laurens's eyes. He has his eyebrows upward, waiting for me to go on, looking at me expectantly. I clear my throat.
"Um...well...I um...I'm from the Caribbean," I start. Okay, good start, Alex. Mr. Laurens's eyebrows arch upward even higher than before. He seems surprised.
"The Caribbean?"
I swallow and nod. "Yes, sir. I was originally from Nevis in the British West Indies but I soon moved to St. Croix after..."
I trail off for second, swallowing before continuing. John gives me an encouraging smile and nods slowly once. I look back at Mr. Laurens.
"After my...my...my uh...after my mother died."
Mr. Laurens impressed grin fades into a small frown. "Oh...I'm...I'm so sorry...."
"It's okay," I breathe shakily. "You didn't know and it was a long time ago."
"So...it wasn't recent?" he wonders. I know he's only curious, but still.
I nod. "She died when I was twelve..."
"Alex..." John whispers, pressing a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it—"
I shake my head. My life. My choices. Not theirs. "No. I want to."
John tosses both hands up in the air as he leans back a little to give me space. "Okay. But I'm right here if you need me. Oh, Dad?"
"Yes, son?" Mr. Laurens says.
"Don't intimidate her," John growls, jabbing his fork at his father. "She's...she's quite sensitive to some things."
Mr. Laurens obviously ignores him.
"She died of sickness," I stare at Uncle Lawrence's watch, fiddling with it. "I got the sickness when I was twelve. I managed to pull through but...she...didn't."
Silence.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Hamilton—" Mr. Laurens apologizes.
I cut him off with a small smile. "It's alright, Mr. Laurens, sir. I'm fine. I'm used to it by now. And please, call me Alexandrea. Or Alex if you will."
He nods. "Very well." He clears his throat. "So, uh, I heard you were new at King's High. Correct?"
"Mhm. That I am," I say. "How uh...how'd you meet my boy?" Mr. Laurens wonders.
"I uh...well," I laugh at the memory. "Well, uh...I met him by my locker on my first day. He uh...he saw me having trouble with my opening my locker and offered some assistance. And well...we became close friends immediately shortly after, and well, we got together."
"Mhm, I see," Mr. Laurens says thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "And uh...what are um..." He clears his throat. "What're your intentions with my boy?"
YOU ARE READING
Helpless (Book 1)
FanfictionSeventeen-year-old Alexander Hamilton should feel lucky. He should feel lucky that he survived the hurricane and the illness he and his mother had when he was twelve. He should feel lucky that he has a family now, an adoptive one at that. He doesn't...
