I Yearn for You, My Alexandria

PTE

ust. Alexandria sat at the teacher's desk, a stack of student council paperwork before her, the very picture of dutiful authority. She tried t

s Hu

t, too-beautiful day he was missing. He'd earned this detention for smoking behind the bleachers-a location she may or may not

tood up, the legs of her chair scraping loudly in

staring out the window. "What do

signment for detention is to write a five-hundred-word essay on the importance of person

on his lips. It was the same smirk he'd worn when he'd

enly. "And the Saturday after that. I have the sign-up s

to life in that gaze. The muffins were a ceasefir

ve a short, sharp laugh. He picked up the pen. "Fine. Wha

tended to go back to her work, but she watched him. He scribbled furiously for about th

loudly, and shifting in his chair, the very image of restless e

n. He wrote for another five minutes, then stopped. He looked at the paper, then out the window,

page, his scrawling handwriting covering every line. When he was done, he didn't bring it up to her.

r legs screeching in protest. He sauntered to the front of the room and dropped the

confident rumble. He winked, then turned and strode

y. The first line made her blood run co

t accept drinks from strangers at parties. They also shouldn't get so drunk that they can't stand up, or tell their secret house key location to

appened at Cole Kincaid's party. He hadn't used her name, but anyone who knew them would know exactly who he was talking abo

r knuckles white. The muffled war was over. It was l

PTE

signed with Alexandria Harmon's precise, authoritative script. Chris,

UDENT BODY

ervice & Restor

support of Student Body-led events and activities. This initiative is designed t

list of assigned names. At

Christia

Support & Logistics,

emainder of A

isor: Ha

port & Logistics. It sounded like a fucking joke. He w

r usual sycophants. He didn't care. He stalk

Harmon?" he snarled, sho

detention assignment, Chris. The school board approved the new initiative. We believ

ed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Thi

ely," she said, her voice dripping with feigned sincerity. "Think of it as... charac

enied his story. She had absorbed it, and used her power to completely neutralize him. If he was working directly under her, constantly supervi

ring Fling committee. He stood, fuming, as she directed him with a pointed

f soda, his strength co-opted for her parties. He was sent on coffee runs for her

war was still on, but the battlefield had shifted to a psychological torture chamber of her own design. He was no longer a rival; he was a resource. And as he stood in th

ce of Edison High, had been out