WARNING: THIS STORY WILL BE STRONG T. It's nothing too bad, but I imagine non-psycho Alex to be made up of dick jokes, eyeliner, and aggression. So if you've gone to middle school, you'll be fine (but still read at your own discretion, I'm not trying to taint young minds or anything) Also some usage of f*ck and other curses, though not excessive (I think...)

Honestly, it was the most artistic thing she'd ever seen.

Her pen was nearly out of ink, but she was bordering on creating the most famous, risqué artwork ever. It was a circle here, a circle there. A loooong cylinder in the middle. A few more detail lines… maybe some droplets coming out of the end….

Wow, she mused in her head. That's pretty damn realistic.

She'd done it.

Alex Drake had successfully defiled page 143 of her calculus textbook with a drawing of male genitalia. It was perfect.

She glanced up from her art, now bored with her project completed, and her eyes immediately darted to the clock hanging on the wall. Seconds ticked by so painfully slow but, as it turned out, she still had thirty minutes of detention left. Which meant she'd spent the first thirty minutes drawing a penis. Still, the drawing was good enough that she'd definitely have to get Aria's expert opinion.

It really did belong in a museum.

But she didn't have time to dwell. What she really needed was a ticket out of this cesspool. Glancing around, perhaps for an accomplice, Alex feigned a stretch, if only so she didn't look so suspicious.

Two idiots were throwing wadded up balls of paper at each other. One girl was neck-deep in homework and reminded Alex of her sister a little bit (except Spencer had never gotten detention a day in her life). Another kid was doing a sudoku and blowing the occasional bubble with his chewing gum. And up front, sitting behind the heavy metal desk with his feet propped up, the teacher monitoring detention was drooling all down himself, his phone slowly beginning to slip from his limp hand.

A plan formed in Alex's mind. It was almost astonishingly simple. She grabbed her textbook, pocketed her pen, and strode toward the door. No one spared her a glance. She even stopped to see if the monitor would notice, but he only let out a short, strangled snore. Poor guy would probably need a new phone and a sleep apnea test. She really felt sorry for him.

But she no longer felt sorry for herself. Alex practically skipped out of there and jogged through the deserted halls, nearly taking out a janitor as she skidded around a corner. She made a beeline for her locker and yanked hard on the lock to open it—a trick she'd learned her first day of freshman year upon discovering the stupid thing was broken. She dumped her textbook inside and grabbed her backpack, slinging it onto her shoulder. Then she took off.

There was actually no reason to hurry. If she was going to get caught it would be by a camera, not any snitches lingering on campus. All the people that would care she was ditching were on their way home or too busy with their own stuff. She probably would get busted—maybe called into Hackett's office tomorrow during class—but another day of detention wouldn't kill her. So she only ran because you absolutely couldn't do that during school hours. It was a special kind of freedom.

Alex headed for the double doors out to the practice fields, happily shouldering out of Rosewood High. She took a moment to imitate the ending of The Shawshank Redemption, even though the sky was a nice blue speckled with puffy white clouds, and she had literally just walked out of her respective "prison". Still, it felt good to throw up her arms in victory and feel the warmth of the sun on her face.

Everywhere else was fairly covered, so… she took what little sunlight she got. Her usual uniform of shredded jeans and off-shoulder tops allowed for the occasional light tan-age—which was nice, she supposed, but she'd be damned if she spent any unnecessary time in the sun. That was Spencer's job. And Charlotte's, though their eldest sister preferred a boutique as a place of habitation and only sunbathed to get a beach-ready body or whatever.

If she was going to sweat, Alex preferred slamming her trainer into a mat while doing so. Fuck the outdoors.

Even as she made her way to where field hockey practice was going on, Alex could feel her mood getting worse—and her hair getting all gross. She dragged a hand through the front of it and pulled the rest of the sweaty locks over one shoulder as she walked.

It felt kind of cool to be walking through an empty parking lot, the sun beating down, and her steel-toed leather boots crunching against pavement. She felt like a badass. Admittedly, a badass whose mother bought her these boots cause she really begged for them around Christmas time, but a badass nonetheless.

And it felt infinitely cooler when she cut underneath the bleachers to reach her destination. But all that coolness died inside of her as the harsh shriek of a coach's whistle nearly bursted her eardrums.

"Jesus fucking Christ," she muttered, ducking back into the sunlight and onto the field. She stood on the sidelines and watched a moment, spotting her sister booking her scrawny self across the grass. She chuckled a bit, but then thought about it.

Alex swore under her breath again. She really needed to work on the petty insults she aimed at Spencer. They were the exact same amount of awkward proportions and gangly limbs and poorly-endowed assets. They acted so different sometimes Alex kind of forgot they were twins.

Maybe she should start pointing out her sister's better qualities (mainly to boost her own self esteem, though Spencer didn't need to know that), but… well, what would the fun in that be? Complimenting people was hard, especially when they were literally yourself. And, while Spencer may have occasionally utterly loathed Alex for her heckling, she had no choice but to love family.

Spencer gave her shit too, anyway. It was all in good fun, but still.

Snapping out of her rare moment of introspective thought, Alex proceeded with her original plan. A few paces away, resting on the benches lining the field, sat Spencer's Rosewood Sharks duffle bag. The bag was in plain view of the players, but Alex wasn't trying to be sneaky. She rifled through it until she found her sister's keys—and a spare granola bar with chocolate chips in it, which she pocketed—then zipped up the bag, mission accomplished.

"Alex!"

Her head snapped upward and she caught sight of Spencer, smack in the middle of running suicides. Her sister had her arms thrown up in question and her face screamed infuriation, so Alex responded with a cordial wave and a middle finger. Then she sauntered back to the parking lot to their shared Toyota Highlander, waving the key fob around until she managed to unlock the thing.

Slipping into the driver's seat, Alex jabbed the START button with her thumb, turned the radio off of the news station Spencer always insisted they listen to on the way to school in the mornings, and pulled out her cell phone.

"Hey, Toblerone," she greeted, as her sister's boyfriend's quiet voice came through the speaker.

"Alex," he responded, and she could practically hear him roll his eyes at the nickname. "What's up?"

"Can you pick our beloved Spencer up from field hockey practice? I'm stealing the car."

"Oh, again? Does this require me having 911 on speed dial, because the last time you did this–"

"Everything's fine. I just ditched detention and didn't want to wait. And it's not like last time, trust me. I've avoided large doses of Hanna and alcohol together ever since."

He chuckled. "That's good to hear. Yeah, I can make it. I just finished up at a landscaping job, so it's perfect timing. I'll be there."

"Thanks. You're the best brother-in-law ever."

"Spencer and I aren't–"

"You will be. You two are sickening." Alex grinned. "All I hear about is 'Toby this and Toby that and oh his truck is so sexy and he has the greatest muscles and he's such a sweetheart'. And she doodles Mrs. Spencer Cavanaugh inside of little hearts in all her notebooks. It's disgusting."

Toby was silent a long moment. Then he spoke, voice hoarse and innocent. It was actually kind of sweet. "Really?"

"Oh, absolutely." Not. Spencer only talked up Toby when Alex asked how they were doing, and she probably actually doodled something equally lame but less embarrassing, like Shakespeare characters or something. But this was all in the effort to make it too awkward for them to stop and makeout on the way home. A long time ago, Alex had taken it upon herself to be a nuisance to her sister.

This included cockblocking.

"But are you sure we're talking about the same Spencer?"

Damn it. She decided to leave him wondering, and hung up with a coy, "bye, Toby."

Another accomplished mission. She was on a roll today.

Buckling her seatbelt and checking the mirrors (she was a badass, but her mother insisted they drive safely based on how many stupid car accidents Charlotte had gotten into growing up), Alex pulled out of the parking lot. She remembered the granola bar she stole from Spencer's bag and snacked on it on her drive home, cranked up music with heavy bass, slid on the cool pair of aviator sunglasses Emily lent her, and enjoyed the ride. The AC was blasting a cold breeze, which Spencer always nagged her about because it wasted gas or whatever, but hey, Spencer wasn't here, was she?

When Alex got home, she winced at the sight of her sister's car in the driveway. Their mother wasn't home yet, so there wouldn't be any unpleasant lecturing, but Alex just knew Charlotte would have questions.

Maybe she could sneak into her room through the window? But it wasn't worth the effort, really. She'd have to climb a tree and all, and she really wasn't up for leaves in her hair today. It would be easier to just dodge questions and attempt to swear Charlotte to secrecy.

"Why are you home so early? And where's Spencer?" Charlotte was sat on the couch, feasting on a bag of butterscotch candies and watching some trashy reality tv show.

Alex huffed a long sigh. She hadn't even gotten all the way through the front door yet. "They sent me home early from detention," she bit out, in a sarcastic tone. "I'm too angelic to be there, it turns out."

"Yeah, I smell bullshit," quipped her older sister. "You ducked out, didn't you?"

"Yes." Giving up completely, Alex sat on the back of the couch and then flipped over beside her sister. Upside down, blood rushing to her head, she watched the spray-tanned couple on the screen arguing over something, and waited for Charlotte to say something.

"I'm not going to tell mom, if that's what you're thinking."

Well that was surprising. Not that her sister was a snitch, but Alex figured she wouldn't exactly be on her side. Charlotte was a reformed delinquent, she had every sort of mistake under her belt and her record was far from spotless—from juvie to rehab to Radley—and she didn't like to see her younger sisters going down a similar path that she had once upon a time. Spencer and Alex had heard the words "try to stay out of trouble" several thousand times, and that was the opposite of what Alex usually did.

"Thanks."

"Just don't do it again, Lex."

A beat passed. "So… can I have a butterscotch?"

Charlotte popped one in her mouth and grinned. "Nope."

Alex sighed, then rolled off the couch and upright. "Well I'm getting food. Want anything besides candy, you sugar addict?"

"I'm fine."

Shuffling toward the kitchen and to the refrigerator, Alex pulled out the chocolate milk and drank straight from the carton. (They only bought it for her and Charlotte, because they drank it like water. Spencer and their mother opted for actual water). Then she searched the cabinets for something appetizing.

Upon finding nothing to suit her cravings, she went back to the living room and sidled up to the couch. "Can I have twenty bucks?"

Charlotte shot her a skeptical look. "Why?"

"I want pizza."

Her sister shrugged, then went back to watching her show. "Purse is on the counter. Knock yourself out."

Alex practically bounced over to retrieve the cash, then whipped out her cellphone to call for delivery. Fingers hovering over the keys, she smirked.

"Can I get a stripper, too?" she called into the living room, and Charlotte bursted out laughing.

"Yes, definitely. But no. Mom will be home in an hour."

"Oh come on, nothing goes with pizza quite like assless chaps." Alex dialed the number for the pizza place. "Maybe I could cut a deal with the delivery guy?"

Charlotte's voice was choppy with laughter. "I dare you to try it!"

Laughing too, Alex waited for the line to stop ringing. She couldn't keep a straight enough face to even begin to ask, so just ended up ordering the pizza. Too bad, she might've been surprised at the response.

She sat with Charlotte on the couch for a little bit, occasionally commenting on the tv show and attempting to (unsuccessfully) sneak a butterscotch, until four o'clock rolled around. They were debating if Spencer or the pizza guy would get there first, and at 4:06, the front door flung open with a thud.

They both flinched.

"Alex!" Spencer dumped her bag by the door, and Alex could practically feel her anger. "What the hell?!"

Alex cast a frightened look at Charlotte, and her older sister shrugged at her, as casual as can be but smiling in that smug way she had when Alex had dug herself into deep shit.

"So how's Toby's truck?" Alex steered her gaze to Spencer, raised her eyebrows suggestively. Maybe her twin wouldn't strangle her if she struck first and hard at the knees. Embarrassment was a real killer, man.

Spencer blushed furiously, but crossed her arms and straightened like a hardened military general, way better at psychological warfare than Alex. "It's fine. "Why did you steal the keys out of my bag?"

"So I could drive home." Alex lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, sheepish. If only it was acceptable to escape her problems with violence. She'd kick Spencer in the solar plexus, change her name and face, and board a plane to Australia.

"You had detention! Why were you driving home?!"

"I don't see why it's a problem. I called Toby for you."

"Yeah, thanks," spat Spencer. "What did you say to him this time? His face was red the entire ride. We said all of two words to each other."

"I said all good things."

Spencer rolled her eyes, deflating—apparently not willing to even try to get answers. Then she scooted to the couch and plopped herself on the middle cushion, head in her hands and elbows on her knees. This time the look Alex exchanged with Charlotte was concerned. Something was definitely wrong.

"You okay, Spence?" Alex nudged her, lightly.

Spencer rubbed at her face with the heels of her hands, then nodded, though it wasn't very convincing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little stressed out."

"You're always a little stressed out, Spencer. This is looking different. What's wrong?" said Charlotte, looping a comforting arm around Spencer's shoulders. "Is it Toby?"

"No. We're doing great." The more she talked, the more pitiful she sounded, maybe even on the verge of tears. And they'd only seen Spencer cry, like, three times. Even when she was a baby-though Alex wouldn't know because they were babies at the same time, y'know? But Spencer seemed like the silent "it's-so-quiet-is-it-dead?" type of baby, while Alex probably bashed people in the teeth with her rattle and screamed at everything. She'd have to ask Charlotte about it later.

"Is it because Lex is an idiot?" pressed Charlotte, voice gentle.

"Hey!" Alex cried in outrage, tuning back in. "I said I was sorry!"

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow. "No, you didn't."

Spencer snorted. "I'm used to that Alex being an idiot. This problem is much more complex."

"Well what is it?"

They waited with bated breath, curious to find out what this mysterious problem was, if only so they could fix it.

"Nothing." Spencer straightened up suddenly, wiping her eyes. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Then she slipped out of Charlotte's hug and marched upstairs, leaving them in a confused silence.

Alex looked at her older sister. "What the hell was that?"

"I dunno." The blonde shrugged, pursing her lips in thought, then she pointed at Alex with purpose. "But keep an eye on her, okay?"

"Aye, aye, captain."

The doorbell rang then, and Alex rose to retrieve the pizza. She tipped the guy generously, thoughts of strippers and detention long gone from her brain. There was something up with Spencer.

And maybe it was time to use her skill of mischief to do a little sleuthing.

A/N: Hello, folks. I'll admit right off the bat that I don't have a long-term plan for this story, but by golly I'm gonna make this one a multichapter! I would still be agonizing over plot details, sitting paralyzed at the keyboard, or maybe even in the process of burying away this idea forever if it weren't for KING011, who requested some more Arlex (Alexia?) and essentially inspired me to get the first chapter done. So thanks! (If anyone else wants to give me a swift kick in the pants for later chapters when I don't update fast enough, that'd be appreciated. Just shoot me a PM and call me a slow lard, and I'll try my hardest to write)

As always, I hope you enjoyed. Please favorite, follow, review, and see you in about a week (hopefully...)