Trust [Lams AU]

7

Trigger warning: drug mention, eating disorder mention, street gang mention, violence mention, at one point Alex goes on a rant about how people treat him differently because he's an immigrant and he's from a poor country

I'm sorry if the story Alex is writing is kind of weird it's based on a story I'm writing. I read a book about something similar and it inspired me to write my own story. 

Enjoy! 

Alex's first impression if Colonial Prep was that it looked like a church. Not just any church. It looked like a very fancy church in a very fancy neighborhood where only very fancy people were allowed to go because even though they preached that all people were equal in the eyes of God they refused to associate themselves with anyone who made less than $100,000 a year.

The day of Alex's placement test had arrived. He'd washed his hair and gotten a good night sleep and eaten blueberries for breakfast (according to Mrs. Washington blueberries were good for your brain. She'd offered to make him salmon for dinner last night because salmon was also good for your brain but Alex had refused because he found salmon absolutely repulsive).

"Don't be nervous, Alexander." Mr. Washington said as he dropped Alex off in front of the school. "It's just a placement test. Just do your best."

Though Alexander would never admit it to the Washingtons, he was nervous about the test. This was his first step towards achieving his dream of being a lawyer. If he messed this up, his entire plan would be thrown off track.

I am not throwing away my shot.

Alex got out of the car and walked into the school. He walked into the lobby and awkwardly approached the woman at the front desk.

"Name?" She asked. She was smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes. It wasn't a real smile, the kind you do when you're genuinely happy about something. It was the fake smile you do when you're forced to be nice to someone you want absolutely nothing to do with.

"Alexander Hamilton."

"What are you here for?"

"I'm here to take a placement test. I was told to talk to Principal-"

"He's in the main office. Two doors down to your right. There's a sign outside that says 'main office'"

"Thanks." Alex smiled awkwardly and started walking down the hall.

He made his way down the hall to the door marked "main office." Opened the door and stepped inside. When he got inside, a tall man in a suit turned to him and smiled.

"My name is Philip Schuyler. I'm the principle of this lovely school. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Mr. Schuyler extended his hand. Alex shook it hesitantly.

"Alexander Hamilton. The pleasure is all mine."

Alex grinned to himself. All the books he'd read had made him an expert in "fancy talking."

"Come, Alexander. Step into my office." Mr. Schuyler said.

Alex followed Mr. Schuyler through a door into a smaller room that must have been his office. It was impeccably neat and tidy, the walls decorated with college degrees in shiny gold frames and photographs of his family. Even his desk was impeccably neat, the papers organized into perfect stacks.

Alex awkwardly sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"So, Alexander Hamilton. Where are you from?" Mr. Schuyler asked, grinning at Alex from across the desk.