Alexandra (“Xandie”)

Pantone swatch: Oxblood.

Once under the EXIT sign, Xandie’s control expanded her excoriations: “Ecstasy tablets axiomatically exceed acceptable luxury limits for our undercover exploits here at St. Francis Xavier.”
     Holding her breath, Xandie examined her bobby sox and oxblood penny loafers for any exonerating stratagem. Would she be axed? Exiled behind the plexiglass, X-raying boxes of tax-exempt Exacto knives and Bics, enduring exponentially excruciating water-cooler conversations about “exotic” Cheez Stix flavours? Xanadu belted exuberant from the speakers. Xandie exhaled, suddenly inspired.
     “Don’t,” said her exasperated control, “try any x-rated antics on me now, you pixie. We could both be expelled before the 6th-form prom.”

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