The smell of pumpkin spice lattes and Thanksgiving was in the air.

And following it was the scent of anxiety with a little dash of terror.

Midterms were right around the corner, and students at the college were cramming 24/7, turning the library, coffee shop, and dorms into an explosion of textbooks and notecards.

Alex had figured that he would be the only one who would actually be caring about the tests, other thatn the Schuylers, but his friends had surprised him once again.

And so it turned out that the group of seven were in the library, books, pens, and study guides scattered everywhere. Alex had his hair in a messy bun, and chunks of it were falling out into his face, which he kept absentmindedly brushing away as he scribbled on notecards. John had corralled his hair back into an explosive ponytail, and it seemed that the more stressed he was, the bigger it got. Laf was staring at his essay dazedly, muttering to himself as he sipped his fourth coffee that day. Hercules-well, Herc had given up and was now drooling onto his Chemistry book as he snored.

The sisters were all in different stages: Eliza was hurridedly trying to remember all the bones in the human body, Angelica was close to sobbing over her Law book, and Peggy was considering trying to sacrifice animal crackers to the Gods so that she could pass her Greek exam.

"Alex, what did you get for 37 on the study guide?" John nudged Alex, who was muttering to himself in...Spanish? John had no clue, the only language he spoke was English.

Alex stared at him blankly for second before his brain switched over back to English, and he snatched up a packet that had been hiding underneath his Political Sciences textbook. He shoved the paper at John, then went back to scratching tiny sentences onto an already-crowded piece of notebook paper.

"What-what are you doing?" John asked, looking at the paper with a puzzled expression on his face. "Professor Adams said that we could use any notes on our exam that you could fit on a piece of paper. And now here I am, finding out that I learned absolutely nothing over the whole term." Alex looked like he was about to either pass out from the stress or burst out crying-or both.

"Well," John sighed, "If it helps, I'm pretty sure I'm going to fail all of my classes and end up working at McDonalds for the rest of my life."

There was a sympathized mumbled agreement over the three tables that they all shared, and John was wasn't sure whether to be relieved or scared to know that he wasn't the only one who thought that.

"I...can't," Laf wheezed, and shut his book before collasping back into his chair. "Yep, my brain's fried," Eliza agreed, and she, too, shut her book before slumping back. Angelica continued to stare at her notes until Eliza gently pried them out of her hands. Peggy laid on the floor, her hair spread into a halo around her head, tears glimmering in her eyes. "Dad's gonna kick me out," she sobbed, and covered her face with her hands.

"Hey," John said, and knelt next to her. "I'm sure he won't make you leave."

"Yes, he will!" Peggy was hysterical. "He already hates that I'm here for art," she spat the word as though it were despicable, "This'll just prove his point that I can't make it in the real world."

"Well, you can just stay with me. My dad's going to kick me out anyways for being gay." John shrugged. "I'm already moving a little money from his bank account to mine so that I can get what I can before he cuts me off."

There was a collective grumble from the students. It was clear that everyone hated John's dad and thought that he was an asshole.

"I don't know how I'm going to survive these for another four years," Peggy sighed.

"I suggest more coffee." Everyone looked up at Alex, who was blearily watching the rest of the group. Laf queasily nudged his cup back. "No more for me, mon amie," he muttered. "I have had enough to last a duree de vie, a lifetime."

The group laughed, and Alex smiled tiredly. "It's getting late," John said, and stood up. "I'm going to go back to my room. Alex?"

Alex shook his head. "I'm going to stay here for a bit. Just a little longer and then I'll go home." John nodded and started to pick up his stuff, stuffing papers into books and making a stack of notes. The sisters and Laf started to do the same, trying not to disturb Hercules, who was still snoring.

Finally, while Alex was still staring at his notes, the rest of the group left, including a stumbling Herc. It was about nine at night, and most of the students had gone back to their dorms, probably putting their books underneath their pillows to hopefully gain futher knowledge through osmosis.

Alex put away his Political Sciences book and flipped open his History one; he was hoping that maybe studying a different subject might make him pay more attention.

Alas, that was the not the case, and pretty soon he felt like he was eating carboard: it was tasteless, boring, and utterly inedible.

Alex looked at his phone and sighed. It was around ten thirty, and he should probably head back. Maybe he could try to study a little more back at his dorm before bed, it was certainly putting him to sleep here.

Drawing his coat tighter around himself, Alex hunched his back against the freezing air outside of the library. It was about twenty degrees, a sudden cold spell had hit about a week ago, and even though he had moved to the States a little over three years earlier, Alex still wasn't used to it being this cold. He came from an island where it was usually seventy and sunny, not the Artic.

Footsteps sounded in the dark behind him, and he instictively knew who it was.

"What the hell do you want, Jefferson?"

"Aw, c'mon Hammie, we just want to talk!" Alex turned around and saw a smirking Jefferson, with the two goons he knew to be Samuel Seabury and George King.

"Just let me go back to my dorm, okay? I just want to go home," Alex sighed, and Jefferson pouted. "Alex. Poor, poor Alexander. You see, I just can't do that." He dropped the exagerated frown, his face going cold. "Grab him."

Alex dropped his books, but it was no use. Between two juniors in college and a small freshman that barely tipped the scale at one hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet, there wasn't much of a scuffle.

Blood was running down his chin and the streetlight was blinking above him, shining like a diamond against the dark, cloudy sky. Jefferson's face loomed above his, going in and out of focus, and he said something that Alex couldn't quite make out over the ringing in his ears.

The next thing he knew was that he was being dragged somewhere, and his senses jumped alive when the burning smell of chlorine hit his nose.

Oh no.

"Okay, Hamilton, here's the thing. You need to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut. So I'm going to help you with that and fill it with something. Like, oh, I don't know, water?" Jefferson grinned at Seabury and King. "Go ahead, boys."

If you didn't know it, dear reader, water is quite cold in November, especially in twenty something degree weather. Even if it's in a heated pool, I wouldn't recommend it.

Alex didn't recomend it either.

It felt like hitting a block of ice.

Water flooded his mouth and nose, stinging his eyes. Other than the fact that it was so cold that he couldn't feel his toes, Alex might have wanted to just sink to the bottom of the pool. It was quiet here. Peaceful.

Plus he wanted to see what Jefferson's face looked like when he found out he had drowned a fellow student.

At least the freezing temperature had dragged him out of his stupor; it felt like it had shocked his brain back into action. His feet brushed against the bottom of the pool, and he pushed off against it, kicking to the surface.

The freezing air felt like knives in Alex's lungs, but he gladly gulped it, partly grateful that he wasn't at the bottom of the pool.

Hauling himself out of the water, Alex was glad for once that he kept forgetting to put his phone in his pocket. It it had been with his books, and although Jefferson might have taken it, he was happy that it wasn't a waterlogged, dripping mess like the rest of him. His glasses had somehow not been lost in the escapade, which was great, because otherwise he would be blindly walking around all night and would probably freeze to death before he found his dorm.

Luckily Jefferson and his posse had dissapeared, but the cold was already causing frost to start forming on his sweatshirt, and his fingertips were going numb, along with his toes. He sighed, then started his way back to the dorms, earning a few strange looks from the students who were still out. Gingerly picking up his books off the ground so as not to drench them (his phone was still there, thank God), he left a trail of water on the sidewalk as he walked along, like a trail of bread crumbs from that fairy tale. Only it wasn't a fun trek in the woods; instead it was shameful walk back to his room, like some poor drowned rat that had fled the Titanic while it was sinking.

Alex thanked God that no one was around as he squished over to the stairs, leaving puddles all over the carpet and the floor.

He fished his key out of his pocket (another thing he was grateful he hadn't lost), and opened the door to reveal John, who looked up from his phone at his desk.

"Oh he- what the fuck happened to you?!"

"Jefferson."

"What?"

Alex squelched his way over to the bathroom, trying not to drip water all over everything. "I'll tell you after my shower."

"From the looks of it, you've already had one."

Alex ignored the comment and shut the door, turning on the shower to the hottest it could go. He peeled off his clothes and piled them into a wet messy ball that he left in the sink, then stepped into the shower.

The spray felt burning, like it was so hot it would melt off his skin, but Alex didn't mind. It was better than being freezing his ass off.

He scrubbed the blood of off his face and arms, then washed his hair three or four times, but the acrid smell of chlorine didn't seem to want to leave. It stayed, taunting him while it mixed with the steam, until the whole bathroom smelled like a hot tub at a hotel.

Finally, when his skin was as red as a lobster's from the heat, he shut off the water and ruffled a towel around his hair, then pulled on a sweatshirt and pajama pants, along with his glasses, which fogged up almost immediately from the steam. He looked distastefully at the dripping ball of clothes, then threw them into the bottom of the tub, where, Alex figured, they could stay until the next morning.

He flopped onto his bed and threw an arm over his face. It was too bright in here, and the whiteness seemed to burrow it's way under his eyelids and into his brain, where it stayed, pulsing, a beacon behind his eyes.

He felt the bed shift, and he opened his eyes. John was sitting on the edge, his eyebrows raised. "So what happened?"

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Ok my stories are wayy to long for this they are always over 15,000 which is the limit and it’s kinda annoying that I can’t put my whole story’s on here. Welp you’ll get a update later today or tomorrow. And I wanna say HI to @KiBells she subscribed she doesn’t comment but I know she reads every chapter of my book 🤚