A/N: Sorry for taking a while to post this. I did about four retries before finally posting 😂👌. Thanks for 170 votes and 500 follows. Make sure to vote and follow for more, good parts are coming up 😜😋

Alexander's POV - Before The Party

I was finally able to part my eyelids from each other that surely felt they where glued together after a three hour nap. Maybe it would be best the spend the last remaining hours of summer relaxing before both school and insomnia join forces in tearing it away. Tomorrow is our last day, and I guess I was going to spend it the first hour of the day, partying at James Reynolds' house.

           I honestly have no clue how that dork, cool wannabe ended up with Maria Lewis. (I tried googling what her maiden name was but I couldn't find an exact answer, I tried my best).  She's known as one of the most beautiful and 'sexy' girls in the school, most guys in the school's dream girl or any someone all the girls wish would be their best friend. I'm blaming James' internet "fame..." Some how he managed to hit 10,000 subscribers on YouTube. I never knew so many people like watching future drug addict.

What? Why are you looking at me?

        The rest of his life is laid out right before my eyes: get rich off YouTube, marrying Mariah, they film a dead body in a forest, get demonetized,
Mariah cheats on him, they get a divorce, she takes all his stuff, he becomes poor and helpless, living with his parents and pan-handling on the streets or the hills, Pan-handling and spending his pity money on alcohol, cigarettes or drugs.

       With all honesty, who am I to judge? I may be an excellent writer with great grades dating the best girl in existence, but I'm not exactly the greatest or in the best shape, mentally or physically.

Seconds after I swung up from the bed and off, my phone vibrated, dinging with a message from Eliza.

Hey Alex. When r u coming? I'm going to the park soon. We will just meet up with Angelica at the party 😘.

Her message sent a light bulb flickering in my head. Her and I where going to meet up, go get a bite to eat and go for a walk for an hour and possibly bike of to Reynold's house to have fun with Herc, Laf, Angelica, and maybe Burr.

         Aaron Burr! Have I mentioned him yet? His high school stereotype would likely be the outcast. He doesn't rely on anybody, but not quite an introvert. He's active in group projects, the most responsible and just wants to get things done correctly. Him and I often partner up in classes, being a good team together of both smart hard workers. We're good friends, but not  best. It'll likely stay that way.
What? Why are you looking at me again?

          I'm completely surprised he's attending the party. He's a lot more mature then all the people who are joining us there, possibly because he has literally nothing else to do.

           I was responded back:
Oh! Thx for reminding me! Getting ready now and we can meet up at the park.

          She sent a simple thumbs up, then I was off getting ready, then thundering down the stairs and to the door.

          "Hamilton! Where are you going?" My dad all of a shouted from the kitchen table, sipping from a black cup of coffee and reading a book.

          Why's he for once taking notice in me?

        "Oh, er.... I'm going off to the mall with my friends, we're going to hang out today." I fibbed.

        He stared at me for a few seconds in disbelief, then went back to his coffee uncaringly. "Alright. Just be back by-"

       "Yeah, yeah, eleven, I get it." I rolled my eyes in agitation, leaving through the door and to the front.

        As I walked to my bike that I forgot to put into the garage from earlier, I noticed our mail box wide upon and an envelope as if someone had been digging through it illegally. Curiosity dragged me over to it.

        It was a light pink envelope. A sticker of a rose red heart sealing the top and bottom together. There was no names or anything, just something that said: "To Alexander H."

        I smiled lightly, picking it up and gingerly peeling it open. I bet it's from Eliza!

       I delicately pulled out a properly folded, white lined paper in three. I opened it up, and there revealed an unfamiliar, tiny, thick and curled cursive writing, much difference from Eliza's tall, more slender and straight writing. It said:

         Dear Alexander,
Disgrace - A Noun
/diś-grás/dis-greys/
the loss of respect, honor, or esteem; ignominy; or shame in one, especially as the result of a dishonorable action.

Everyone has been called this word.

Whether they just thought it,
they communicated it,
or used another word,
or where joking,
or meant it.
Not only that, but everyone's pictured at least one person in existence, dead or alive, fake or real, good or evil, kind or cruel, caring or neglectful, sinful or moral, to be considered a disgrace.

That's just humanity.

Of course, depending on who makes this conclusion about someone, how they tell them, and how often they say this results in how much it hurts, how they react, and what it causes.
I myself, have become accustomed to this,
it just seems to be how I live,
but you.

How can someone believe that of you?

0% of the whole human population, so zero of seven billion people are officially perfect, but it's just as opinion.
Perfect meaning: having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.

No flaws.

Perfect is just an opinion, but right now, it's a fact when I say:
You are perfect, my dear Alexander.
but you'll never realize it, and I can never tell you.

Well, maybe some day,
Heh, I'm just too much of a disgrace to have something as great as that occur.

Love, your not-so-minor admirer

Confusion flooded my head. Elizabeth wouldn't write that, she's more of a poet that sends cheesy stuff over texts. It's not signed, either, she would've wrote her name. I'll just have to ask.

Leaping onto my bike, I took one last glance at the letter which I placed in a pocket of my shorts. Then my gaze switched over and on Flower Boy's house. What was his name again? John Wick? Michael Vick? Something girly. Why couldn't even have knocked instead of throwing a darned rock into my room? Maybe he's grounded or something. Probably.

Shaking away my thoughts, I finally sped off to meet Eliza at the park between our parks.

Five-Ten Minutes Later (because writing that out is filler)

I finally strolled into the park, halting my bike on a side walks next to it then guiding it to a bike rack to hold it. After parking it, I noticed Eliza on the swing set. Her long, black hair was up in a blue bun, wearing jean shorts a few centimeters from her knees on her pale skin. She wore one of our blue school shirts that where big on on her with a large text saying "When your living on your knees you RISE UP!" Next to an eloquent, formal dog whose our mascot, Kinge.

She waved at me with a bright, beautiful smile as I ran over and in front of her. "Hey, Liz." I said unenthusiastically with my head in the clouds.

"What's wrong, Alex?" She asked in slight concern.

"N-nothing, it's just, I'm confused. I found this letter on my driveway for me and I have no idea who it's from. Is it from you?" I asked, handing the letter for her to read.

Eliza read it with a confused expression and narrowed eyes. Hopefully she won't pull a psycho girlfriend on me. She knows I'd never cheat.
What? Why are you looking at me again?

"Yeah, I don't know what it is. Maybe it was to someone else? I know it says 'H' too, but there's a lot of Alexanders..." She said with an unsure tone. "But that's a weird coincidence. Do you know any girls that might like you and do this?

Eliza was trying her best to straighten her friend along with her cheeks going red in sadness. My heart filled with sympathy for her, holding her hand. Maybe I could cheer her up.

I shrugged. "Other than this one blonde girl from the mall named Brooke or something with her taller, brown haired friend but I think they left off for frozen yogurt with some other nerdy guy who almost bought a girl's shit."

She snickered, "What? Alex, who in the world do you see at malls?"

"I once saw this guy who was wearing his underwear on the outside of his pants."

"Eww, Alexander! Too much information!" She laughed her sweet honey laugh.

"Isn't that What Super-Man does? You where for Halloween in third grade you said!" I bantered jokingly.

"Haha, okay, you got me there. Thanks, that stupid letter was bothering me and I'm feeling a little better."

"I don't even who did this, Eliza! I'm sorry." I insisting despite her pressuring me.

She let out a sigh in disbelief. "Yeah, Yeah, I'll see you at the party."

"Huh? Aren't we going to hang out?"

"I forgot that uh... I have to go, er, back for school on Monday!" She blurted out, leaping on her sky blue bike. "Bye, see ya later."

I slowly waved at her, feeling a stab of rejection and a swarm of confusion. Does she thinks I'm cheating? I have no idea where the letter came from.

I guess at the party I'll just have to brighten things up, but why do I have a feeling this will either majorly make or break things?