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Chapter Text

I WAKE WITH a strained gasp. My eyes snap open as I shoot upright, my shoulders tensed and up to my ears, my back rigid straight, and my hands clutching onto the bedsheets that are now draped over my lap. My knees are slightly bent as I sit upright, staring wildly at the mirror across the room in front of my bed. My eyes flicker wildly left to right, trying to get a sense of my surroundings as I pant fast, my breaths sharp and ragged as if I had just completed a marathon. I feel beads of sweat trickle down the side of my face, or is that the rain, or tears perhaps? I can’t tell at this point, nor do I care.

Am I back in Nevis? No. No, I’m not. I’m not in Nevis. I’m not in the bed next to my mother as she held me in her arms tightly before she… well, anyways. I’m not back in Nevis, escaping the hurricane with my brother, James, who… No. No, I’m not back there. I’m in my bedroom, by the looks of it, at the Washington’s residence. I’m in my rather small bed, my trembling hands clutching at the bedsheets tightly, so tight my knuckles turn white. I’m in my bed, in my bedroom. I’m home. This is my home. Not Nevis.

I look to my right. Over there is my wooden desk by my window, my laptop surprisingly still open but the screen is black and loose-leaf papers are scattered over my desk along with random pens. An empty metal tray sits on the edge of my desk with an empty white mug and a plate with crumbs on it. My chair is scooted back slightly away from the desk. My blinds above my desk are closed over the window, so it blocks out the early morning sunrays a little that shines through them. A few feet away from my desk, is my closet where I store all my miscellaneous things and my clothes and shoes and then to the left of that is my vanity where I get myself ready for the day and then right next to that is my dresser where I store my pajamas and stay-at home clothes. My laundry basket sits between the wall and the dresser next to the closed bedroom door. I’m home. There’s no flood surrounding me. No dead bodies facing face down in the murky green-blue water. There’s no debris from torn houses from the harsh winds of the hurricane. There’s no thunder crackling, no lightning flashing. I don’t see him. I don’t see my older brother, James, who had died while trying to protect me from the raging storm back in Nevis. He shoved me out of the way when we were trying to catch our breath, standing underneath a tree that snapped off its trunk that was rooted to the ground. And what did I do? I just stood there with a stunned and frightened expression on my face as I watched the tree fall, fall, fall. It collapses onto James, the branch hitting his upper back and he topples forward in an instant, landing face down in the water like the other dead bodies. His limbs twisted at an awkward angle. The water turning from a green-blue color to a dark purple and I realize then, that it was blood. His blood.

My sharp, ragged panting comes short when I hear the obnoxious beeping coming from the left side of me. I whip my head over my shoulder, eyes widening and face paling. I’m still shaking as I lift my hand up from the bedsheets and slam the alarm off, wincing a bit as my hand makes contact with the buttons on top of it. Now, there’s nothing but quiet in my room. It’s just me. It’s just me on this small bed, in this dark and empty space.

I feel myself sinking a little into the mountain of pillows surrounding me. I close my eyes gently as I feel the tears start to slip down my freckled cheeks. I draw my legs up to my chest, wrapping my thin arms around them tightly and resting my forehead behind my knees, letting a lock of red-brownish hair fall in front of my knees as the rest of my long, curly, wavy red-brownish hair falls around me.

I swallow hard, licking my dry lips and letting out a shaky breath but it only turned out to be a choked sob. I clamp a hand over my mouth to try to stifle the sob but unfortunately that doesn’t work. I squeeze my eyes harder as memories of my childhood floods through my brain. I’m not the type of person who likes to discuss about their past. I like to keep my past tucked away in my brain behind a closed door and so far, I haven’t had to reopen closing wounds but basically my childhood life was a living hell. My father abandoned my mother, brother, and I when I was just ten-years-old. For what purposes, I do not know. I just remember my parents arguing one night and then boom. My father vanished. I never saw him again. Anyways, not even two years later, when I was about twelve, my mother fell extremely ill. Soon, I caught the illness. I survived the sickness but my mother didn’t. She died as she was holding me in her arms. Then, we moved in with our cousin who not long after James and I moved in with him, he committed suicide. We found him laying in a pool of blood on his bed in his room, the only conclusion that came to mind was that he either stabbed or shot himself to death. Then, after that a hurricane came. It destroyed my home. It tore and ate everything up. It tore homes apart, drowned people, killed children, it killed my brother. Ever since the hurricane, I’ve always been afraid of storms. It will always cause me to fall back in time and reexperience the hurricane all over again.

Now, here I am. I wrote my way out of hell, strangers, kind strangers heard my stories that were published in the newspaper and offered to help me get the next ship available to New York. So, I sailed across the Atlantic with other immigrants to Manhattan, New York City. There, I met Mrs. Washington at a marketplace one day. She’s a kind woman, a soft-hearted and sweet woman who loves me like her own son. I told her my story when she asked me what I was doing out alone in the dangerous yet beautiful city. She looked aghast, shocked and she grabbed my arm and dragged me all the way to their apartment where I met my adoptive father, George Washington, and my adoptive older brother Gilbert Marquis de Lafayette for the very first time. Martha, George’s wife and my adoptive mother, explained to George my story and insisted on taking me in and raising me as a child of their own. George agreed nonetheless and here I am. Three years I have been living with the Washington’s and I must confess, it has been life-changing for me and I never felt so loved in my entire life. I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

My choked sobs turn into a small sniffle as I lift my head up from my knees and wipe my tear-stained freckled cheeks with the heel of my palm. I swallow thickly, looking out the window as I wrap my arms around my legs again, resting my chin behind my kneecaps and admiring the beautiful sunrise. The dark, navy-blue sky suddenly changed colors. It went from a midnight blue to a light blue sky with a haze of pale yellow and soft pink and lavender purple mixed together. I think I see a haze of gray in the middle somewhere as the sun slowly rises up from behind the metal skyscrapers across the street from my apartment. The sunrays shine in between the skyscrapers, in a straight line and directly into my eyes. I have to use my hand as a visor to block it and I recoil slightly, grimacing.

I sigh through my nose as my pounding heart slowly calms down into a soft, slow rhythm. I turn over my shoulder toward my left, toward my alarm clock on my nightstand table next to my bed. The glowing red numbers read: 6:45 A.M. I have exactly an hour to get myself ready for school.

I shiver at the thought of school. I’m a little nervous but yet I’m also excited. But I frown as a sudden, fearful realization dawns upon me. I swallow. What if my past gets leaked out to the whole school? What if people know how pathetic I am? Especially during a storm? I mean, who would want to be friends with a bastard, orphan, and an immigrant? They can’t know. Nobody needs to know.

My anxious, racing thoughts comes to a halt when I hear three soft, tender knocks on my closed bedroom door. My eyes flicker towards the door, my breath hitching in my throat. I sit up a bit straighter against the mountain of pillows surrounding me, combing out any tangled knots in my lock of auburn hair that’s fallen around my shoulders and comb my bangs to the side. I sniff a couple of times and wipe away as many tears as I can off of my freckled dotted face with the heel of my palm. I clear my throat as I rest my hands on my lap and force a reassuring smile toward the door.

“Come in,” I say weakly, grimacing at how hoarse my voice sounds.

The door creaks open slightly and I brace myself for who might the intruder be. I swallow hard, my Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as I let out a shaky breath, watching intently as the door swings open. The knocker’s head pokes through the small crack between the door’s frame and the door itself. He smiles softly when his rich chocolate brown eyes land on mine. Only his upper body, from his chest and up, pokes through the door.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s me. May I come in?”

I shrug, smiling truly this time. But it’s just a small smile.

“You’re my brother, Gil,” I say with a chuckle, running a hand through my auburn colored hair. “You don’t have to ask.”

He shrugs and fully steps inside now, closing the door behind him and tucking his hands into his jean pockets. He rocks a little on his heels. He stands few inches away from the door.

“It’s a force of habit, mon petite lion,” he says with his thick French accent.

I fold my arms over my chest and roll my eyes, laughing to myself as I shake my head. My eyes land on my adoptive brother, Lafayette’s. Lafayette’s a smart man. A kind one too. He’s two years older than me, which makes him nineteen. He’ll turn twenty in a few months from now and in a few months past his birthday, I’ll be eighteen. Lafayette, or Laf or Gil for short, has rosy cheeks and pale skin, a lean, masculine and strong body. He’s physically fit and the biceps on his arms are about the size of a watermelon while mine are about the size of a grapefruit. His red-orange hair smoothed back and combed to the side and it glistens against the sunlight coming through the window. It’s then, that I realize, that that is hair gel. He wears a red long-sleeved turtleneck shirt with blue denim jeans and white Chuck Taylors. And me? I’m still in my pajamas.

Lafayette walks toward me in a graceful motion. It takes him two steps to make it to my bed. Power of having long legs. Lucky bastard. He sits himself down at the edge of my bed. The mattress jostles a little and it dips down a little due to his added weight. I watch him interlace his fingers together and lean forward slightly and rests his forearms on his thighs, his back arching a little. He presses his lips together in a straight line before turning to face me.

It’s quiet between us for a few moments as we stare awkwardly at each other, waiting for one of us to start a conversation. But instead, we just ended up having a staring contest until Lafayette clears his throat and sighs through his nose lightly. He forces the corners of his lips turn upward and he tilts his head slightly, examining every detail of me.

“You okay, Alex?” he asks quietly, his voice almost in a hushed whisper.

I swallow and my reassuring smile fades into a frown. But I quickly return that smile to him when he frowns worriedly and I nod curtly, sharply.

“Mhm,” I say. “I’m fine.”

Of course, he doesn’t believe me. He raises an eyebrow and gives me this look that says, “Are you lying to me?”

“Alex—” he begins but I cut him off, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

“I’m fine, Gil,” I say. “Really. What are you doing here, anyways? Shouldn’t you be getting on a plane?”

“I wanted to check on you,” he says. “I wanted to say goodbye before I leave for France for college.”

I only nod, but I don’t reply.

He sighs again, this time out his mouth instead of through his nose. He sits up straighter somewhat and runs his hand through his auburn hair. He turns to me, locking his chocolate brown eyes on my violet ones.

“I don’t want to leave you, Alex…” he mutters, his eyes flickering down toward his lap.

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. “Gil, I’ll be fine. Trust me! You do trust me, right?”

He nods. “Of course! You’re my brother! I trust you with my life!”

“Then know that I’ll be okay on my own. I don’t need you to follow me all the time like a lost puppy. Plus, Dad’s going to be one of my teachers there so it won’t be as bad.” “True,” he sighs, agreeingly. “But still. What if something happens to you, Alex? What if you get hurt? Or…what if there’s a storm while you’re at school?”

I wince when he mentions the storm but I let him continue ranting a little, letting him get his anxious thoughts off of his chest. I notice his leg is bouncing up and down slightly as he chews on his nails, his foot tapping against the wooden floor.

“What if you get r-ra-ra…” He can’t bare himself to finish the sentence. He doesn’t need too. I frown, looking down toward my lap, ashamed. Why I feel ashamed? I have no idea. Lafayette swallows hard, licking his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. His hands tremble as he raises one trembly hand toward his mouth and he bites his nails. His hand still shaking. His leg still bouncing up and down and his other free hand’s fingers drum against his knee as it bounces up and down. His eyes are wide and wild, filled with fear of what would happen to me. The fear of losing me, the only thing he loves in this world, the fear that he won’t be there to protect me. The fear that he won’t be there when I need him most.

I sigh through my nose heavily as I prop myself up in a straighter position than before. I swing my legs around the edge of the bed so I’m sitting shoulder to shoulder next to my brother. Even when sitting, I’m still a head shorter than him. I’m just right above his shoulder but under his ear. Lafayette moans miserably as he puts his face in his hands. I wrap my arm around his shoulders, resting my head underneath his ear and on top of his shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you, Alex…” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled with his hands covering his face, his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want too…I know you’re old enough to take care of yourself and all but…still. Mon ami, you’re…you’re small and fragile. Vulnerable. And you can be easily broken. You’ll make an easy target and…and if something were to happen to you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive myself…”

I feel the corners of my lips turn upward slightly and sit up, lifting my head off of his shoulder. I turn to him, rubbing his arm up and down comfortingly. I let out a soft laugh.

“Gil,” I say. “Calm down, will ya? You’re not going to lose me! I’ll be fine!”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, running a hand through his ginger-colored hair again. His cheeks puffs out as he exhales long and slow through his mouth. “It’s just…like I said, Alex: you’re vulnerable and small. I don’t want…I don’t want you to be heartbroken or taken advantage of, is all…”

I brush back a loose strand of hair behind Lafayette’s ear, almost absentmindedly. I rest my hand on his cheek and he hums with content as he closes his eyes gently and leans into my touch, gripping my small wrist for dear life.

“Gil,” I say, almost sternly. “Relax. I’ll be fine. Trust me. I know how to take care of myself and plus, on the bright side, someone taught me how to throw an uppercut!”

He snorts and I snicker. Soon, we both burst out laughing together, our laughs almost harmonizing but mine is a bit higher than his. We both double over, our arms slung across each other’s shoulders as we convulsed with laughter. Lafayette nods as he laughs, his mind filling up with childhood memories of when he first taught me self-defense. He’d teach me how to throw an uppercut and an undercut and how to grab someone from behind and flip them over your shoulder and pin them to the ground while their flat on their stomach and your knee in the middle of their back, their arms pinned behind them. He taught me knife-throwing while we’d walk through the woods and taught me how to shoot a gun, but he told me, very strictly and sternly, to use one when and if necessary. We’d spend hours in the backyard, from early afternoon say around four when Lafayette got home from school to roughly six in the evening when George gets home from work and Martha is just finishing making dinner, wrestling each other, throwing uppercuts and undercuts, throwing kicks and learning how to doge a punch or how to block one. Those were good times.

Lafayette glances at the clock on my nightstand once our laughter has died down somewhat. He frowns, sighing through his nose as his smile fades. He locks his chocolate brown eyes with my violet ones and I couldn’t help but grin.

“You sure you’ll be alright, Alex?” he asks, biting the corner of his lip.

I nod and squeeze his arm. “I’ll be fine, Gil. I swear.”

He nods, sighing through his nose one last time before pushing himself up off the edge of my mattress and runs a hand through his hair before turning around to face me. He smiles and extends his hand out toward me. I stare at it with a blank expression on my face, as if it were an alien.

“Come on,” Lafayette says. “Martha’s making breakfast. And I have to get you to school.”

I sigh through my nose as I gently place my hand in his. Lafayette helps me up to my feet and we stand in front of each other, staring into each other’s eyes. I swear, I can see my reflection in his pupil.

Lafayette tucks back a loose auburn curl behind my ear. He nods sharply and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me, alright?” he says, brushing back my auburn bangs out of my violet eyes.

I only nod and wrap my arms tighter around myself, making myself look vulnerable and small. Only then to have Lafayette pull me in a tight embrace. My head is under his chin as I snake my arms around him, returning the hug. After a few minutes, Lafayette finally pulls back and ruffles my hair. I swat at his hand, sticking my tongue out at him and folding my arms over my chest.

Lafayette only laughs a little before pressing a kiss to my forehead and ruffling my hair one more time before finally leaving me alone in this empty, cold bedroom with the door clicking shut behind him.

Chapter Text

“GOOD MORNING, SON,” says a man who’s roughly in his mid-forties with red-orange hair, almost the same colored hair as Lafayette’s but more brownish though and pale, smooth skin with rich gray-blue eyes. He sits at the end of the dining room table with his laptop flipped open and a couple of newspapers sprawled out around him. He picks up the white mug on the right side of his laptop (which reads World’s #1 Dad) and takes a long, slow sip out of it. His rectangular glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He sniffs and pushes them back up the bridge of his nose before continuing typing onto his keyboard with his left hand while holding his coffee mug with his right. I try not to wince when I hear the word “son” come out of his mouth.

“Morning, Dad,” I say as I swing off the bottom step, gripping onto the stairwell’s post and swing my body around it. I jog towards the living room couch and slide the shoulder strap to my bookbag off of my shoulder and let it flop down on the couch with a thump, crashing into the throw-on pillows. I sling my arm around George’s neck and press a kiss to his cheek. He pats my forearm and hums as he takes a sip of his coffee again. George raises an eyebrow at me.

“How’d you sleep, Alexander?” George wonders.

“Slept fine, Dad,” I say. I’m not allowed to call him “George” straight in his face.

“Are you sure, Alexander?” he says. “Your eyes are red…and there are dark circles underneath them. Did you stay up past midnight again working on that novel of yours?”

I shoot George a hard glare over my shoulder as I reach for a random coffee mug from the cabinet next to the stove. I narrow my eyes at him and scowl, my nose twisting up with disgust.

“So, what if I did?” I say, a little too defensively. He’ll know I’m lying. Or perhaps he’s gotten used to the deceit in my voice that he might actually believe my lies. I mean, I lie to him all the time now.

George sighs defeatedly, rubbing the spot with his forefinger and middle finger between the brows in a small circular motion.

“Alexander…” he says warningly.

“What?” I say, setting the mug underneath the Keurig machine before lifting the lid and popping the k-cup in the little hole and closing the lid. I press the button with the large pitcher symbol. I turn to face George, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back against the marble counter. I cross my ankles over each other. “So, what, Dad? What are you going to do about it? Ground me? Put me in time-out?”

“Son, don’t start this right now!” George whines, lifting his head up to meet my eyes. “On a Monday too. At seven o’clock in the morning…”

I shrug blamelessly. “Well, it’s not my fault. You were the one who brought it up!”

George narrows his eyes at me and I feel my cheeks warm with triumph, feeling the corners of my lip turn upwards slightly as I watch George sink his teeth into his bottom lip, trying not to bark back an argument. I humph as I turn back around to watch the coffee brew. I lean against the counter, my chin resting in my palm and my other arm draped over the counter.

“Well, good morning to you too, honey,” says a soft, feminine voice coming from beside me with a soft chuckle.

It’s then that I hear the bacon crackle in the pan and the scrape of the spatula from the pan as a young woman perhaps in her mid to late thirties stands next to me scrambling up scrambled eggs with melted American cheese on top. She has dark, chocolate brown hair pulled back into a low bun, letting a few curly bangs dangle in front of her emerald green eyes which sparkle against the sunlight shining through the window. She has smooth, flawless skin. She wears little makeup such as foundation covering her acne and light pink eyeshadow with eyeliner and mascara and cherry red lipstick coating her small, thin lips. She has on silver hoops and she wears a light pink blazer with a white shirt underneath and a pink skirt to match her blazer. She wears black high heels and a bracelet dangles from her left wrist, a watch on her right and a silver, diamond ring on her ring finger. I feel a small smile tugging on my lips.

“Morning to you too, Mom,” I mumble.

She eyes me worriedly as I swing the refrigerator to grab the coffee creamer. She smiles sweetly, almost concernedly. Though, she looks pained too. I can see the crinkles in her eyes as she tries to smile. It’s a long silence between the two of us, well, besides the chatter among George and Lafayette in the dining room. I pour in three tablespoons of creamer into the coffee and stir it up.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Alexander?” Martha asks worriedly.

I glance at her over my shoulder and flash her a reassuring smile, though it probably doesn’t look as convincing as I’d like it to be.

“I’m fine, Mom,” I assure her. “I promise. Just…had a bad dream last night…is all…”

She puckers her lips together, as though she tasted something sour, and heaves a long sigh through her nose. Her brows furrowing together, causing a small crease to form in her forehead and she narrows her eyes at me. She looks like she’s trying to analyze my brain, trying to figure out what’s going on in my head. She knows I’m lying. I’m not that much of a good liar.

“Alexander—” she starts, but I cut her off with a roll of my eyes and a look of annoyance.

“Mom, I’m fine,” I say. “Seriously! It was just a bad dream, is all! Nothing too serious!”

She sighs again through her nose and scrapes the scrambled eggs onto a plate next to the stove. She turns off the stove and scrapes the bacon onto the plate with the eggs and sets the pan down. She leans against the stove with her arms folded over her chest and an eyebrow raised.

“Alexander…” she says in a warning tone. Her expression softens and I feel her small hand on my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. Though, I don’t find it comforting in me whatsoever. I stare into my coffee, clutching the cup with both hands. I can see my reflection glinting in the creamer slightly. “You know you can tell me anything that’s troubling you, Alexander. You don’t have to keep it a secret. You don’t have to bottle it up like this. It’s not healthy…”

I feel myself scowl. “I don’t care.” I say it a bit too sharply, a bit too defensively. I swallow and look past her shoulder, at the window in the living room, a stony expression on my face. “I don’t want to about it.”

“Alex—” Martha says, her voice mewing. Almost pleadingly.

I shoot her a glare, a warning glare as I swallow the lump of tears straining in my throat.

Through clenched teeth, I growl as quietly as I can without a trembling voice, “I said I don’t want to talk about it…”

“Honey—”

“Martha,” George warns from the dining room. He doesn’t need to tell her to back off.

Martha glances from George to me with a worried look. She presses her lips together in a straight line and sighs through her nose defeatedly. She nods before patting my shoulder and pressing a kiss to my cheek. I watch her, while keeping my face straight ahead at the window in the living room, carry the plate with the eggs and the bacon to the dining room table.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding until she left the room. I feel slightly bad for her. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I know she was worried about me and just trying to help, but still. My behavior just then wasn’t acceptable. My jaw is set as I stare out the window, clutching the cup of coffee in my hands. I swallow the bile down my throat and blink my eyes. My teeth are still gritted together when I look back down at the coffee in my hands. My vision blurs, causing everything I look at to smear together. I close my eyes gently as I lean against the marble counter.

Why? Why did have it to be me? Why me? Why? I wish James were alive. He’d make everything so much better. He’d make everything feel safe. Don’t get me wrong, I love Lafayette as my own biological brother, but it’s just not the same. Sometimes…sometimes I wish it was me that had died in that hurricane or me that had died from that sickness my mother and I had. But I didn’t. There has to be a reason. There has to be a reason why all that happened to me when it did. And there is, isn’t there? I open my eyes slowly as the realization dawns upon me. I lift the cup to my lips, the tip of the coffee mug just under my upper lip and I stare out the window with a blank look, my brows furrowed together and a frown forming on my face. I don’t exactly take a sip, not yet anyways. I just let the cup touch my cold lips, my arm across my chest while my right elbow presses against my hand. There is a reason. And that reason is because James loved me. That’s why he pushed me out of the way from death. It’s because he loved me. He wanted me to experience life to the fullest. He wanted me to live to experience the beauty of life, the beauty of love and the beauty of making friends. He wanted me to make friends and fall in love. He wanted me to live because he, my dear brother, loved me more than anything in this world. He sacrificed himself for me, to give me the things I didn’t have. To let me find a loving and caring family, to start fresh again. I was too young to die. After all, I was only fourteen. But so was James. There could have been another way…I could have saved him but I didn’t. I just stood there like an idiot and did absolutely nothing. I just let him die.

I squeeze my eyes shut. No. No I didn’t just let him. He was willing. He was willing to face death himself. James was prepared for it. And I wasn’t. If our roles were reversed, and James was standing in my place right now, I have no doubt he’d feel the same thing for me. He’d blame himself for not being able to save me if our roles were switched. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if that ever happened. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. And that’s what I need to do, right? I have to move on from my tragic past and live life to the fullest, experience love and heartbreaks, experience befriending people. James would want me to go to college and get a degree in whatever career it is that I wish to pursue. He’d want me to get married and have children. He’d want me to be a father in the future. He just wanted me to be happy, after all we’ve been through together. So, I have to stay alive. Even though, I wish a million times I was dead instead of him, I have to stay alive. I have to. For my mother. For him. For Martha and George and Lafayette, my adoptive family. I glance over my shoulder toward the dining room and I find a small smile forming on my face as I watch my family boast with laughter as their silver forks clink against their plates, as they wine and dine together. I have to stay alive. For them. I have to learn to be able to forgive and that’s what James had taught me. He’d taught me to forgive. He forgave our father after he abandoned us and soon, I’ve learned to forgive my father as well. I have to stay alive. For James. I have to stay alive and complete all the things he wished he could do but didn’t. I have to fulfill James’s dreams and mine.

I sigh through my nose as I feel the smallest tears slip down my freckled cheeks. After a few minutes of silently crying to myself, I wipe my tears away with the heel of my palm, sniff, and clear my throat. Still clutching my coffee cup in my hands, I force my numb legs to move. I force them to move toward the dining room where all laughter and chatter ceased as soon as I stepped into view. All eyes turn to me, watching me intently and confusedly and worriedly all at the same time. I set my cup down next to my brother at the table. I grip the back of the chair. Martha beams at me, George smiles softly with a nod and Lafayette just grins, his arms folded over his chest. I pull out the chair next to my brother and Martha and across from George. I let out a shaky breath as I slide into the chair. I scoot the chair closer to the table. I interlace my fingers together behind my plate and press my lips together, eyeing my family. They’re silent. They wait for me to say something. Anything. I clear my throat, brushing back a loose auburn curl behind my ear and say:

“So. What’d I miss?”
***
We’re driving down the interstate now in downtown Manhattan toward King’s College High. I’m in George’s car, seated in the passenger seat with my arms folded over my chest as I gaze out the passenger side window, at the cars blurring together as they rush past us, some slowing down and honking at others as they come to a stop because of a red light or traffic. My bookbag sits on the floor. The buildings and skyscrapers blur together as we pass them. The sky is a perfect blue, cloudless and beautiful as the sun shines down on us, right above us actually. The music in the car roars and booms as George nods to the beat, his fingers drumming against the wheel and he hums along to the lyrics. Occasionally, he’d steal a glance at me over his shoulder worriedly but shakes it off and turns his attention back toward the road in front of him.

I rest my elbow on the windowsill and my chin in my palm as I stare up at the cloudless, blue sky. I wonder what James is doing right now up there. I wonder what my mother is doing. Is my father up there? Where are my family and what are they up to? I wonder if James met a girl up there. I wonder if he’s fallen in love with her and are happily together. The thought of that makes me smile a little. I close my eyes for just a moment. Oh, James…I can’t wait to see you on the other side when my time has come…

I open my eyes again just as we head towards an exit. I reel back from the window and turn my attention towards the windshield in front of me, my arms folded over my chest again. We come to a red light and George turns down the volume. I know what’s coming next.

“Okay, son,” George says, turning to me as best he can with a seatbelt across his chest. I don’t meet his eyes, I just stare out the windshield. “What’s going on? What’s happening in that brain of yours? I’m worried.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, he’s worried. Why am I not surprised?

“I’m fine, Dad,” I say. And that is all I say.

The light turns green and George presses the gas pedal and moves us forward.

“No, Alexander, you’re not,” he says flatly with a deep tone that slightly scares me. But I try not to show it. “You’re not alright and you know it. Something is going on with you and as your father, I feel like I have a right to know. I can’t help you, son, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t need your help,” I say, bluntly.

“Alexander—”

“Can we not talk about this right now, Dad?” I hiss. “On my first day too? I just…I’m fine. If you must know, Dad, I had a bad dream last night. That’s all.’’

For a moment, I thought I felt a sense of triumph in my chest when George doesn’t respond. But I know that look on his face. He’s thinking. He’s thinking about the right words to say. He presses his lips together and sighs through his nose.

“Was it about the hurricane?” George asks.

I swallow and look over my shoulder out the window. My jaw clenches and I fight the urge to let out a choked sob. I bite my tongue and kept my mouth shut for once. This, my friend, is a sign that this is the end of discussion.

George sighs again and turns his attention back toward the road. We don’t speak to each other for the remainder of the ride towards the school. George makes a left and after about ten more minutes of sitting in this car we finally pull up to the school’s parking lot. George pulls into the staff parking lot, though, which is as full as the student parking lot. The parking lot looks like it’s a sea of vehicles. There’s perhaps one or maybe two spaces free left. George pulls into a space near the small, rectangular building, closest to the entranceway. I bite my bottom lip, hard enough I thought it might start to draw blood. Busses line up the side of the curb, the doors swinging open to let the students out. The students climb off the bus one by one and wait underneath this giant archway above them, which is supported by six pillars. Three on the left side and three on the right. I see two double brown doors, which are closed. I glance at the clock. It reads 7:30 A.M. The school doors should be opening here in about fifteen minutes or so, according to Lafayette.

“Well, here we are,” George says after a few minutes of awkward silence. “Now. Here’s what I want you to do, Alexander.”

I turn to give him my fullest attention.

“The first thing I want you to do is wait with the others at the entrance. Don’t talk to anyone, or anything like that.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes again.

“The next thing I want you to do, son, is go straight to the Principal’s Office. There, you should find Principal Schuyler who’ll give you a map of the school and your class schedule and your combination lock and code for your locker. And after that, I want you to come straight to me. I’ll be waiting outside a door underneath a sign that says American English and Lit. got it?”

“Yeah, Dad. I got it,” I mumble.

George smiles approvingly and nods curtly. He ruffles my auburn hair and presses a kiss to my temple before turning off the ignition and climbing out the driver’s side door, grabbing his bag and slinging it across his chest and grabbing his coffee in his to-go cup.

“Love you,” he says before shutting the door. “See you in a few, Alexander.”

“Love you too, Dad…” I whisper, staring out the window for a few seconds.

I wait until George is out of view before grabbing my bag off the ground and slinging the strap over my shoulder. I grab my phone off its charger from the cupholder and with my pinky and ring finger I manage to push the passenger side door open, letting it slam shut. I stand in front of the car for a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths before finally forcing my legs to move.

I keep my head down, my teeth still digging into my bottom lip as I clutch onto my phone tightly, so tight my knuckles turn white. I watch my feet stepping in front of each other, the rocks in the road crunching beneath my shoes. I climb up the curb to the sidewalk and stand in front of the crowded entranceway. I swallow hard, licking my dry lips before finally gathering the courage to take my first steps toward the school. I stay far away from the students as much as possible, in hopes I would not draw any attention to them. I lean against an empty pillar, my arms folded over my chest as I watch the students roar with laughter. Some chat ridiculously loudly for no reason, bullies taunt nerds who are just trying to read their science books in peace, while couples make out. I scowl at the couples, my nose twisting up with disgust.

“Jackie!” I hear someone squeal with delight and excitement, the voice is feminine and high-pitched.

I jerk my head up toward the noise, tilting my head toward one shoulder curiously. I see a teenage girl, roughly my age—seventeen—or perhaps a year older with sandy blonde hair pulled into a high bun and a natural lean body with hazel eyes and who wears a jet blue sweater and black leggings with black boots. My eyes follow her as she runs through the crowded entranceway, towards the front doors. I furrow my brows as she jumps onto a teenage male with shoulder-length sandy blonde hair like hers pulled back into a low ponytail, letting a few blonde bangs fall in front of his eyes and rich blue eyes that are the color of the ocean and a muscular frame. He looks like he could be a football player or a bodybuilder. His biceps, compared to mine anyways, are about the size of a watermelon while mine are about the size of a grapefruit or an apple. I notice there’s a scar etched underneath his right eye from the corner of the corner of his right eye to his jawline. I raise an eyebrow. I wonder how he got it.

The girl jumps on the boy’s back, locking her slim legs around his waist and her thin arms around his neck, taking the boy by surprise. The boy, however, catches her, gripping the back of her thighs as she jumps on him, burying her face into the crook of his neck. I swallow. They’re together. Of course, they are. You don’t know that, Hamilton, my mind scolds. They could just be friends.

I must have stared at them for way longer than I realized because after what seemed like an hour, the blue-eyed boy finally turns to me and I feel my cheeks warm up. I bite the corner of my bottom lip before ducking my chin down and away from them. I can feel the boy’s eyes on me for a while before I see, in my peripheral, the boy turning his attention back toward the girl.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and instinct kicks in. I swivel around on my heels, fast as lightning and pull my arm back, ready to punch whoever it may be. My heart pounds against my chest, my eyes wild and determined and my breathing quickens. But I relax and lower my hand. It’s just a girl. It’s just a girl.

She stares at me with wide eyes, her jaw dropped open slightly, not fully all the way but only half way. She has smooth, flawless peach-colored skin with chocolate brown eyes. She has chocolate brown hair pulled back into a low bun behind her ears and she’s lanky and thin like me. She’s only a head shorter or so, probably up to my ears if we were to stand shoulder to shoulder. She wears a light blue dress with black leggings underneath and a necklace is around her neck. She wears little makeup but she does have on eyeshadow and pink lipstick and that’s just about it. She’s beautiful.

“You okay?” she asks softly as she hesitantly places her hand on my shoulder.

I feel myself tense up but I soon relax. I swallow and nod, flashing her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” I say, ignoring George’s rule about talking to strangers. “I’m fine. You just startled me is all. You okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything like that right?”

She smiles sweetly and shakes her head. “No. I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

“Of course,” I say.

She eyes me sideways, scanning me up and down, analyzing every detail I have. She tilts her head to one shoulder, clutching her textbooks and notebooks to her chest with both arms instead of just one.

“You’re new here right? I don’t think I’ve seen you in the school before,” she wonders. Her voice is soft and soothing. Almost therapeutic. I could listen to it all day and won’t be mad about it. Her voice is as sweet as a cinnamon roll.

I nod. “Yeah. I am.” I clear my throat. “Sorry about that, earlier, by the way. About me almost punching you in the face?”

She giggles and I can feel my heart doing summersaults.

“That was…that was merely self-defense,” I say.

“It’s not a problem,” she says. She holds out her hand. “My name’s Elizabeth Schuyler, though most people call me Eliza.”

“Schuyler?” I say, raising an eyebrow as her last name rings in my ears. I suddenly realize she’s the principal’s daughter.

“My sister,” says another voice creeping up behind her.

I look up to see a slightly taller girl, who in comparison is both taller than Eliza and I, with hazelnut brown skin and warm brown eyes glinting against the sun. Her frizzled dark brown hair is pulled up into a frizzled ponytail, her curls cascading over her shoulders slightly. She wears a light pink turtleneck with blue denim jeans and brown country-styled boots. She has her bag slung across her torso, her arms folded over her chest as she raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her face. I suddenly feel very frightened of the girl walking up behind Eliza.

“Pleasure,” I say. I turn to the girl in the pink, raising an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“My name’s Angelica Schuyler,” she says. She extends her hand out and I grasp it, though her grip tightens and I bite my tongue to hold back a yelp and fight the urge to grimace. “Alexander Hamilton,” I say through clenched teeth.

She smirks, quirking an eyebrow. Eliza just rolls her eyes. Angelica’s grip tightens.

“Where’s your family from?”

“Unimportant. But there’s a million things I haven’t done. Just you wait, just you wait—Ow! Okay, okay! You can let go now Miss Schuyler! You’re kind of crushing my hand!”

“Good,” Angelica snaps. She releases her grip and lets go of my hand. I shake it, rubbing my knuckles soothingly.

“Angie,” Eliza hisses, slapping her sister’s forearm gently, “be nice!”

Angelica mumbles something incoherently, folding her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes as she mimics Eliza’s voice. I press the back of my hand to my mouth, trying my best to stifle the snicker that escapes it.

“And Peggy!” exclaims another feminine voice from behind me.

I hunch forward slightly when I feel hands on my shoulders, and chest pressing into my back. I grunt as my eyes widen, startled. She lowers herself down from me and giggles at my shocked expression. I turn to find a young girl, probably about fifteen or sixteen, walk around me and stands next to me with her arms crossed over her chest. She has light brown skin with ebony, chocolate brown eyes and her frizzled hair pulled back into a ponytail like Angelica’s. She wears a yellow sweater and blue denim jeans with black flats. Her bag slung across her chest like Angelica’s.

I force a smile upon my face.

“Well, it’s uh…a pleasure to meet you all,” I say.

“What’s your name?” Peggy asks.

“Alexander,” I say. “Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton.”

Chapter Text

I STAND IN front of the entranceway between Eliza and Angelica. Peggy stands behind me, poking her head over my shoulder. My eyes are wide as I watch the once crowded entranceway slowly depart from each other and go their separate ways. Some going to their lockers, some going to offices or classrooms, some going to the cafeteria that’s down the hall, some going to the library, some going to the gymnasium, etcetera. It’s incredible, I must admit. Amazing…

“So,” Peggy says. “What are we all looking at?”

“Nothing,” I say. “Just taking in the view…”

“You’ve never been to high school before?” Angelica asks. “Not to be rude or anything. Just…curious is all.”

I wrap my arms around myself as I follow the three sisters down the hall. I shake my head.

“No,” I admit. “Not really. I um…I’m not the type of person who likes to talk about their childhood but let’s just say I was um…impoverished.”

“Oooh, big words!” Peggy teases. “I like him. Can we keep him, Angie?”

Eliza rolls her eyes, trying to keep a straight face, however failing at that task. She frowns, though, when her chocolate brown eyes land on my violet ones. Eliza tilts her head a little to the shoulder as we continue meandering through the halls.

“You were impoverished?” she says.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I mean…I did do a little bit of homeschooling with my brother before he…well…uh…before he left but my family…we couldn’t afford schooling where I came from…”

Eliza nods. “Ah…right.”

“Do you have your schedule?” says Angelica, with an eyebrow raised.

I shake my head. “Um…no. I’m supposed to meet the principal for that. My…uh…do you three happen to know who Mr. Washington is?”

“Of course!” Eliza gasps, a bright smile on her face. “He’s my English teacher!”

I stare at her for a moment, bemused.

“What?” she says, frowning.

I shake my head. “N-Nothing. It’s just…well…I’m supposed to meet him there after I get my map, schedule, and stuff…”

“Ooh! I can show you!” Eliza gasps, looping her arm through mine. Angelica smirks and nudges her elbow into Peggy’s side.

“I’ll leave you to it!” Angelica says with a wink. She grabs Peggy’s wrist before dragging her younger sister down the hall and they make a left, vanishing around the corner.

“Come on, Alex!” she says. “You don’t mind if I call you Alex, right?”

I shake my head. “No. Of course, not.”

“Right. Right. Now, come on! I’ll take you to the office!”

I let her drag me toward the office.

I don’t know how much time has passed. I must have left my watch back home. Just to be sure, I pull back the cuff of my sleeve back to reveal, yep. A bare wrist. I press my lips together into a straight line and heave a heavy sigh through my nose, long and slow. Though, the sigh sounds more like a grumble of frustration. Eliza speeds up her walking pace, gripping my wrist as she drags me down the hall, causing me to stumble every now and then over my shoelaces and nearly collapse onto my face on the white tiled floor once in a while. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself when she has the brightest smile on her face. It’s as bright as the sun. I can feel its warmth warming the coldness inside me, causing me to smile. Her smile is contagious. Maneuvering past students and mumbling apologies every now and then as students shoot her a hard glare, Eliza bursts a brown metal door open. I glance up at a banner hanging above it. In gold, bold letters, the sign reads: Principal’s Office. I swallow nervously, my smile instantly fading and turning into a deep frown.

“Papa!” Eliza squeals as she drags me into the office, the door slamming shut behind her, causing me to wince. “Dad, where are you?!”

Entering the office from another doorway, is a tall, slender man with dark brown short-cropped hair with hazelnut brown eyes and light brown skin. He wears rectangular glasses that is perched on the tip of his nose, his eyes flickering across a paper he’s holding in his arms, mouthing the words with his brows furrowed together. He has a little peach fuzz and razor-sharp cheekbones.

“Oh! Eliza!” the man chuckles as he looks up from the paper, readjusting his glasses. “What on Earth are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

I watch curiously as the man walks stiffly behind his half-circular desk and plops himself down in his black leather chair. He scoots his chair up toward his computer and shakes his mouse to wake up his computer. While he waits for that, the man turns his attention to us.

“Your new student is here, Dad!” Eliza beams.

The man’s eyes flicker toward mine and he grins. He hums, nodding his head. I suddenly feel a little self-conscious and I felt myself shrinking a little at his intense stare. I swallow nervously.

“Ah, yes,” the man whistles. “Alexander Hamilton, correct? Washington’s boy?” He raises an eyebrow as he tilts his head to one shoulder, examining me, analyzing me from head to toe, from my auburn hair that’s pulled back into a messy low bun, to my violet eyes, to my freckles dotted over my cheeks and nose, to my delicate, small frame.

“Um…yes, sir,” I say, scratching the nape of my neck. “That’s me.”

“Ah, yes,” the man says, leaning back slightly. His chair creaks as he rocks in it. “Washington’s told me so much about you, Mr. Hamilton. You’re a handsome one, that’s for sure. He was right about that.”

I feel my cheeks warm up and I don’t think it’s from the weather. I press my lips together in a straight line again and duck my chin down toward my collarbone, rocking on my heels a little anxiously.

The man chuckles, shaking his head. “No need to be afraid, my boy. I won’t bite. Now, what do you need, kid?”

I glance over at Eliza over my shoulder, who nods with her wide, contagious smile on her face. I lick my lips before turning my attention back toward the man.

“Um…Washington told me that I needed to get my schedule and a map of the school and the locker combination…” I mumble.

“Ah, yes,” the man says. He swerves around in his chair and reach behind him next to a printer to grab out three sheets of paper and a lock. He scoots his chair back up toward the desk and lays the sheets of paper out in front of me. He pushes his glasses back up his nose with his pointer finger and clears his throat. “Here is your schedule and the map and your combination code and lock. You are to meet Mr. Washington in his American English and Literature class which is your homeroom…”

I nod as I followed along his instructions and scoop the papers up in my arms.

“Thank you, sir,” I say with a curt nod and a small smile.

“Of course. And the name’s Principal Schuyler, Mr. Hamilton. I’m Eliza’s father—”

“Please, call me Alexander,” I say. “Or Alex if you will.”

He nods. “Right. Right. Of course. Now, off you go! I have a meeting to attend here shortly with a few staff members.”

I nod and let Eliza drag me out of the office. But before I could step out of the office, Mr. Schuyler stops me. I skid to a stop all of a sudden, causing me to almost bump into Eliza.

“Oh, and Alexander?” Mr. Schuyler says, with a raised eyebrow as he reaches next to the printer to grab something.

I walk back toward him with a confused and slightly worried look on my face. Eliza lingers against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest as she watches me. He hands me another piece of paper, but it’s in a shape of a small rectangle. I stare at it blankly.

“Have each of your teachers sign this slip and bring back to me before you leave today, preferably right after your last class,” Mr. Schuyler instructs.

I nod. “Of course. Thank you, sir.”

“Of course,” he says. “Now go on.” He waves me off like I’m a harmless little fly perched on his shoulder.

I stare at the sheets clutched in my arm while Eliza drags me down the hallway again. Eliza leads me down the hall to my locker but with a forlorn expression on her face. She glances up at the clock across the hallway, at the glaring red numbers which reads 8:10 A.M. She turns back to me.

“I don’t want it to seem that I’m abandoning you or anything like that, Alex, but I have to get to class…” she says, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder while her other arm clutches onto her textbooks to her chest. She rocks on her heels while biting the corner of her lip.

I flash her a reassuring smile, leaning against the metal locker. I shrug. “It’s alright, Eliza. I understand. I’ll be fine. You can go!”

She starts to turn but quickly whips her head over her shoulder, her teeth still digging at the corner of her lip.

“Oh! Um…let me uh…let me give you my number!” she chirps.

I don’t say anything, just raise an eyebrow.

“In case you um…” I smirk at her flustered state, her cheeks turning a dark shade of pink. “Uh…in case you uh need my help with anything…”

“Alright, alright, fine,” I say. I pull out my phone from my back pocket and unlock it. I hand it to her as she types in her number in my contacts before handing my phone back to me. I glance at her number in my contact and chuckle at her contact name. It reads: Eliza with a puppy dog emoji and a blue heart next to it. I roll my eyes, laughing softly as I tuck it back to my pocket.

“Just text or call me if you need anything!” she says. “It won’t be any trouble! I’ll come right away!”

“I will,” I say almost breathlessly. “Thank you, Eliza.”

“Of course!” she beams. “This is what friends are for, right?”

Before I could respond, she dashes down the hall, and disappears around a corner. I stare after her a while with a blank look on my face before sighing through my nose and turning back toward my locker. I swallow, puckering my lips together as it towers over me. Just staring at it makes it feel intimidating. I sling my bag off of my shoulder and it collapses onto the ground with a thump. It slumps against the metal locker and topples over slightly. I set the schedule and the map down and grab out the paper which had my combination code and its lock. Just staring at the numbers is even intimidating to me. I look back up at the lock, then back down at the paper clutched in my hands. I hook the metal lock to the little hook and stare at it with a blank look on my face. I glance over my shoulder, feeling somewhat self-conscious. Behind me, people meander through the halls, chatting with each other and laughing. Jocks whoops and hollers, laughing all the way. Nerds crouch down by their lockers and sit in a cross-legged position with a textbook in their hands. Couples are pressed against their lockers, making out. I scowl at them with disgust. Blech…

I pretend I didn’t just see that and turn my attention back to my locker. I look back at the combination code. The numbers read 3, 8, 15, 20, and back to 3 again. I look back up at the lock, then back down at the paper. I let out a shaky breath. Whoo. Okay. I can do this. Yeah. I can do this. I can do this.

I tuck the paper underneath my arm and swallow again. I twist the knob on the lock to the left and to the right and to the left again, pulling it back slightly. It doesn’t budge. I narrow my eyes at the lock, confused. I glance at the paper to make sure I had the numbers right, which I did, and redid the process. The locker still won’t budge. I glance up at the clock above me. 8:20 A.M. I don’t know when first period will start. Guess I’ll just have to figure that out myself, won’t I? Okay. Let’s try this again.

Left. Right, right. Left. Right. Left.

Nothing.

I moan desperately behind clenched teeth. Third time’s the charm, right?

Left, right, left, left, left, right, right, left.

Still nothing!

I slam my fist against the locker, wincing a bit.

“Stupid effing thing,” I mutter.

“Locker trouble?” says a southern accented voice from beside me.

I yelp, a startled gasp escaping me and whip my head over my left shoulder to find a handsome young man, perhaps my age: seventeen or maybe a year older, with dazzling sapphire blue eyes mixed with a few gray highlights in his sapphire irises and sandy, shoulder-length blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail. A scar etched underneath his right eye, from the corner of his eye all the way down in a diagonal line across his smooth, flawless peach-colored cheek to his jawline. It’s faint, but it’s still visible. He towers over me, roughly about eight inches or so I would say. He has a muscular frame, so he must play either football or baseball here at the school or at least works out at the gym most of the time. His biceps are roughly the size of watermelon or a cinderblock most likely compared to my small ones. I bet you, he has a six-pack underneath that gray long-sleeved shirt.

I swallow and let out a little “heh-heh” type laugh. I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my cheeks warming up. I press my lips together in a straight line and nod.

“Here,” he says with a chuckle. “Let me.”

I step aside so he can have room. My arms are wrapped around myself and I watch him, trying to remember what ways his fingers move as he twists the lock back and forth, back and forth.

“Watch and learn, kid,” he says.

I do. I watch him closely. After about five seconds, the locker itself pops open and he swings it to the side, swinging it wide-open.

“And et voilà!” he says, both arms open as if he’s waiting for me to embrace him.

I gawk at him, mouth dropped open slightly in disbelief. Unfair!

“H-How? How...how did you—?” For once, I’m at loss for words.

The blonde smirks and shrugs. “Practice.” He pats my shoulder.

I blink. “Oh…um…well…thank you, I suppose.”

“Of course,” he hums. He leans against the locker opposite me, his arms folded over his chest and he has an eyebrow raised as I bend over to grab my textbooks and notebooks and stuff them inside my locker. I notice his stare and turn to him. He immediately looks away.

“What?” I say, folding my arms over my chest as I turn around to face him.

“N-Nothing,” he mumbles, clearing his throat.

I don’t respond. I just give him this look and raise an eyebrow at him, tilting my head a little to the side.

“I know you’re lying,” I say. “I’m not stupid.”

“It’s just ah…it’s just…I’ve never seen anyone with violet eyes before…” he says. “Nor have I ever seen you in this school until now…”

I don’t reply.

“My name’s John Laurens,” he says, extending out his hand. “I’m uh…quarterback here on the school’s football team. I’m eighteen, gonna be nineteen in about a month from now. I come from South Carolina. Charleston. Pleasure to meet ya.”

I arch an eyebrow again, but I smile a little before shaking his hand.

“Alexander,” I say. “Alexander Hamilton. Seventeen. From Nevis in the British West Indies on the Caribbean. Moved here to New York at roughly about fourteen and lived with the Washington’s for about three years. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Laurens.”

I turn back to my locker, my cheeks warmth with triumph when I see his shocked look. His jaw goes slack and his eyes widen slightly. He leaves his hand out in the open.

“W-Washington?” Laurens says, blinking and lowering his hand. “You’re his son?”

I grimace and shoot Laurens a dirty look over my shoulder past the locker door.

“Adopted son, but yeah, pretty much,” I say. “Got a problem with that?”

He clamps his open mouth shut and shakes his head, both hands up in surrender. He steps back a little.

“Erm, no, no,” Laurens stutters, clearly flustered. “Not at all! It just…took me by surprise is all! I mean, I know he had a son, Lafayette I think his name was, but not another one. He didn’t mention you.”

I knit my brows together, causing a crease to form in my forehead. George mentioned Lafayette, but he didn’t mention me?

“I-I’m sorry,” Laurens apologizes through a stutter, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to intervene with personal family things…I just…ah…just notice things is all. And I was just startled.”

“It’s alright,” I say, though it sounds more like a hushed whisper. I turn my gaze back to my locker, trying to finish unpacking my things and getting my locker sorted out.

“So, um…Hamilton,” Laurens says after a moment of silence between us. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “What’s your homeroom?”

“American English and Literature,” I say flatly. I raise an eyebrow at him over my shoulder. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Laurens says with a shrug. “Just curious…”

I eye him skeptically, my eyebrow still raised, before finally shrugging it off and continue to unpack. Laurens sighs defeatedly as he leans against the locker opposite me. He crosses his arms over his chest again and presses his lips together.

“I um…” he begins, though for a second, he appears to be at loss for words. I raise an eyebrow again at him, glancing at him over my shoulder as I stack my textbooks on top of each other inside my locker. Laurens scratches the back of his neck. “I um…English is my homeroom too…I was uh…I know um…this might sound a little cliché or something but uh…I was hoping—no—wondering if uh…I could take you to class? Since we’re in the same class?”

“Fine,” I say. I slam my locker shut, twisting the lock. I bend over and yank my bag off up the white tiled floors and slinging the strap across my shoulder. I step up close to him, like chest to chest close and jab my finger right in the center of his chest. Laurens looks confused and slightly frightened. I smirk a little. Good. “But listen here. If you ever put your hands on me, I won’t hesitate to break your neck. Got it?”

He swallows thickly. I can see the lump in his throat go up and down as he shoots his hands up in surrender. He nods quickly.

“Yes, sir,” he chirps.

“Good,” I say with a triumphant smile. “Now let’s go!”

Laurens leads me down the hall, chatting occasionally to a few of his friends and a couple of his teammates who happen to recognize him as we walk down the hall. I stay close behind him, though not too close. We make a left, then a right, then a left again, and another right and kept on down the hall straight ahead before we have to make another left. Finally, we reach a banner above a closed door with bold, gold letters reading: American Eng. & Lit.

“Here we are,” Laurens announces as he pushes the door open.

I see George at the desk, sniffing as he sips his coffee and occasionally pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his finger. He’d check his phone beside him when it buzzes and then goes back to work. To my left, I see at least four or five rows of desks in a straight line, followed behind the other. Most of the students looked rather bored, their cheeks or chins in their palms, some stare out the window, some actually doing work or jotting notes down, some reading with their feet propped up on their desks, some scrolling through their phones while chewing bubblegum, blowing a bubblegum and then pop it and go back to chewing it lazily. Clearly not interested in whatever George may have to say.

“Ah! Alexand—” George exclaims, jumping up out of his seat to greet me and invite me into the classroom and his wide smile instantly falters when he sees Laurens behind me. George growls, narrowing his eyes at Laurens and folds his arms over his chest, his brows knitting together. “Er… Glad you could come join us, son.”

“Dad…” I say in a warning tone as I slouch a bit. I fight the urge to role my eyes again. “Stop it!”

“I told you not to talk to anyone!” George snaps. He raises an eyebrow at me. “And what’d you do? Go on and chatted!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, the spot between my eyes as I close my eyes gently. I inhale deeply before slowly exhaling out my mouth.

“Dad? Can we not argue about this? You know I wasn’t going to listen to you! Plus, you have a class to teach!” I snap.

George’s gray-blue eyes flicker over to Laurens’s, who waves a little awkwardly behind me while I have my arms folded over my chest. George sighs through his nose just as the bell rings, indicating first period is starting. George pinches his lips together and his nose and heaves out another sigh.

He closes his eyes a little and shakes his head mumbling, “Lord, give me strength…” He jerks his head up and claps his hands together, gathering everyone’s attention. “Alright! Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Chapter Text

I SIT AT the far back of the classroom, at the fifth row of desks, away from the spotlight. I have my planner and my textbooks flipped open to the page that is written with blue dry erase marker on the dry erase board. George stands beside it with the marker as a pointer. I have my chin in my palm, my elbow resting on my desk, as I flip through the textbook absentmindedly. George’s voice drowns out as my mind goes blank. I blink. What was I thinking?

I look up and instantly, mine and George’s eyes lock with each other for a split second. I smile encouragingly at him and he nods, before continuing on with his lecture. Laurens sits on the left side of me while a girl who looks so similar to Peggy, with light brown skin and warm dark brown eyes but I happen to notice flecks of gold in her dark brown irises, her walnut brown hair is frizzled and pulled around her neck, therefore making her curls cascade over her shoulder and a few bangs covering one of her eyes. She wears a red leather jacket with a black shirt underneath it and a maroon colored skirt with black flats. She wears light blush and eyeshadow, little eyeliner and mascara but bright, cherry red lipstick. She stares, bored, at George with her cheek resting against her palm as she chews on a stick of bubblegum. I stare past her, out the window. I can see my reflection through the glass, faintly, but I’m there. Staring back at myself. To be fairly honest, it’s actually a beautiful day here in Manhattan. The sky is a perfect, cloudless blue with the sun shining its bright rays right above the school. It’s as though the sun is directly above us. Birds chirp as they fly across the sky, flapping their wings. Cars in the distance, past the bushes, zoom in a blur down the interstates. Skyscrapers tower around us, flashing their advertisements on the side of the buildings brightly, almost blindingly.

“Alexander?” George’s voice says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I blink. The girl in the chair beside me eyes me wearily as I clear my throat before turning back toward George. I sit up straighter, giving him my full attention as I brush back a loose auburn curl behind my ear.

George raises an eyebrow. “You still with us, son?”

I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. Feeling a little self-conscious, I shrink into my chair a little, wrapping my arms around myself while biting my lip. I nod.

“Okay…” George says. He claps his hands together. “Well, while we’re still on the topic of Alexander, everyone? I’d like you to meet my son, Alexander, who also happens to be your newest classmate. Alexander? This is everyone!”

I glance around the room, feeling all eyes pinning me to my desk. They don’t say anything. Just stare at me as though I were some kind of alien. I might as well be.

“Alexander?” George says. “Why don’t you come introduce yourself to the class?”

I give him a look, scowling and shivering at the very thought. I don’t answer his question, just give him the look.

“Or not,” George mumbles. He clears his throat before continuing. “But I would like you all to treat him with the same respect you give each other. Just because he’s new here, doesn’t mean he gets to be treated harshly or differently. With that said, let’s continue on with the lesson, shall we? Okay, good talk! So…”

George’s words begin to drown out around me as I turn toward the window again. I have my arms folded over my chest and I stare back out the window with a blank look, my lips pressed together.

I don’t know how long it’s been since George continued his lesson. But pretty soon, the bell rings, indicating first period was over. George seems to be in a middle of a sentence when his words were cut off because of the bell. George sighs through his nose and flops down on his chair.

“You all are dismissed,” George mumbles, rubbing the sides of his temples as the class simultaneously got up from their seats at once, scrambling to grab their bags before sprinting as fast as lightning out the door. I was the only one left in the room.

I pack my bag up, swinging the strap over my shoulder and pull the door open. I’m about to step foot into the hallways, until George’s voice stops me.

“Son,” he says, rather sharply. “A word?”

I sigh long and slow out my mouth before spinning around on my heels and following George’s orders. I swallow hard, letting out a shaky breath I didn’t realize I was holding and stand in front of George’s wooden desk.

“What were you doing with Mr. Laurens?” George demands, narrowing his eyes up at me. I freeze, for once, at loss for such words. What was I doing with him? Laurens was only helping me find the class and opening my locker door, and that was pretty much it. I don’t see any harm in that, do you?

“What are you talking about, Dad?” I say.

“I’m talking about you being with Mr. Laurens,” he argues. “I don’t like it.”

I roll my eyes. “Dad. Come on, seriously? He didn’t do anything to me nor did I do anything to him! He was…he’s actually kind of nice.”

George doesn’t reply, just raises an eyebrow.

“Oh my God, Dad,” I moan. “Grow up! He didn’t do anything to me! He was being kind to me and helping me!”

“Helping you?”

“He helped me unlock my locker for me because I was having trouble doing so and he showed me where English was which is why he stood behind me at the door at the beginning of class. So, would you just calm down?! I barely even know him!”

“Alexander,” he sighs. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I mean, son, this is high school! People are going to be jerks to you and will hurt you either physically, mentally, or emotionally—or even better yet—all three! I’m…I’m just worried, Alexander. And I want to make sure you’re alright, is all…”

I smile softly, resting my hand on his. “Dad. I’m fine. Really. Plus, I already made at least three new friends!”

George’s blue eyes lit up as bright as the sun and his smile is radiant. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Who were they?”

I grin. “The Schuyler Sisters. You know? Angelica, Eliza, and—”

“Peggy,” George chuckles, nodding approvingly. “Yes. And Peggy. No one can forget about her. A bright, clever young girl Peggy Schuyler is.”

I nod.

“They’re good friends to be with too,” George continues. “Angelica: The smart, brave, and fearless woman she is. Eliza: The sweet, caring, kind, and trusting woman. And Peggy: A bright, colorful woman full with potential. Combine all three, and you get one hell of a team.”

I snort, trying to stifle my laugh with the back of my hand. I feel my cheeks go warm as George smirks. He nods shortly afterward.

“That’s good, son,” he says. “I’m proud of you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright and that Mr. Laurens didn’t do anything to you.”

“Dad…” I say warningly, folding my arms over my chest. I raise an eyebrow.

“Alright, alright,” George chuckles, tossing both of his hands up in the air in surrender. “I’ll stop. You’re free to go, Alexander.”

I nod sharply, faking a salute at him before zooming out of the classroom in a flash, my shoes screeching against the tiled floors as the door flutters shut behind me.

***
“Boo!” a feminine voice whispers into my ear from behind me.

I yelp, spinning around on my heels and nearly dropping my three-ringed binders and spiraled notebooks that are on top of a textbook out of my arms. I turn and a small smile paints across my face. Peggy Schuyler stands before me.

She laughs at my stunned expression, her body hunched over slightly as she presses her palms against her knees, laughing until she can’t laugh anymore. I don’t resist the urge to roll my eyes again as I stuff my three-ringed binders into my locker. Peggy walks around me and leans against the metal locker across from me, over my right shoulder. My locker door blocking her between us but I can still see her face through the three lines in the middle of the locker door as I stuff my supplies inside it, getting ready for second period.

“Hi, Peggy,” I say with a slight laugh.

“Sup, Hammie,” she says, popping out the “P.”

I look at her through the three lines in the locker door, shooting her a hard glare.

“Don’t call me that,” I say flatly as I return to the task at hand.

“Awe, why not, Alex?” she pouts.

I heave a sigh through my nose. “It’s…it’s uh…it triggers me and it will send me to a very, very dark place. And that dark place isn’t pretty and trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to see me go to that dark place.”

She stares at me, her face paling and her eyes widening slightly as I close my locker shut, twisting the lock back and forth a few times until I hear it click. I turn to her, smirking when I see her frightened look, her arms folded across her chest.

“Not to self,” she says. “Never call Alex ‘Hammie’ ever again.”

I snort, rolling my eyes. I grab her elbow and start dragging her down the hall. “Oh, shush. Now come on! We’ll be late for class.”

“So,” she whistles. “How was it?”

I quirk an eyebrow as we round a corner down the hall. “How was what?”

“English!”

Oh.

I shrug. “It was alright, I guess. Not as bad as I thought it would be. Kind of boring, but it wasn’t exactly torture.”

She snickers. “Oh, Alex.”

“What? It’s true!”

She pats my shoulder, shaking her head as he continues to guide me down the hall.

I wish I had gotten my watch because I don’t know how much time has passed until we see them. There, at the end of the hall before we make another right, is a group of three teenage boys. One is a tall, slender boy perhaps about eighteen with ginger-orange colored hair with hints of red mixed in the orange together, hazel brown eyes that glints with mischief, a knowing smirk on his round face. He’s broad shouldered like Laurens and he wears a deep blue jersey that, on the back with bold white letters in all capitals, reads: JEFFERSON above the number 89. Next to him, stands a slightly younger teenage boy, perhaps about sixteen or seventeen and roughly about 5’ 4” with a pot belly, red-rosy cheeks with emerald green eyes and dark brown short-cropped hair, his bangs swept to the side a little like an arch or a wave. He laughs at a joke or a comment the “Jefferson” kid said as he munches on a bag of chips, leaning against his locker. Next to the pot belly kid, is another teenage boy roughly about as tall as Jefferson, so I’d say roughly 5’ 8” or so, with raven black hair, his bangs swept toward the side in a similar style as the pot belly kid’s. He has brunette colored eyes and razor-sharp cheekbones with an angular jawline. He’s physically fit, not quite muscular, but strong enough he could probably lift me up in his arms, bridal carry style, without difficulty. He also wears a dark blue jersey, but I can’t see what the name on the back says. The brunette’s eyes land on my violet ones and I go still. My stomach twists as I feel nausea rise into my throat. I suddenly have the feeling I shouldn’t be here…

“Oh, no,” Peggy breathes, standing close beside me, her eyes widening as well.

“What?” I say, glancing over at her over my shoulder. “What is it?”

“The Big Three…” she whispers, her eyes still trained on the boy that has the “Jefferson” jersey.

“The…Big Three?” I whimper, grimacing at how pathetic I sound.

She swallows thickly and nods, still not taking her gaze off of the Jefferson kid. She grips my elbow in case we have to make an escape and nods. She bites her lower lip.

“It’s what everyone here calls those three over there down the hall,” she whispers into my ear. I shudder as I feel her warm breath on my skin. “They’re douches. Jerks. Get caught by them…and well…you’ll never be able to escape them…”

I press my lips together. “M-Maybe we should…uh…go then…”

The brunette kid’s eyes are still on mine. He smirks cunningly before turning toward his “Jefferson” friend and whisper something in his ear.

“We need to go,” Peggy gasps, starting backward, tumbling over her heels. She grips my elbow tighter. “Like…now!”

“Wait!” I gasp as she drags me down the hall. “Now?”

“Yes! Now!” she hisses. “Trust me when I say, Alex, you do not want get caught by them! I’ve seen what they could do to you!”

I pause for a moment as our shoes squeak against the tiled floor as we race down the halls, shoving through the claustrophobic hallways as it’s filled with students lingering at their lockers before opening my mouth and looking up at the back of her head. I swallow.

“H-Have you…have you ever been caught by them?” I ask.

She shakes her head in one sharp movement. “No. But I’ve seen what they do to other students. It’s…terrifying. That’s all I’m going to say. Now, come on! We need to find Eliza and Angie!”

Running through these halls, as fast as we’re going, reminds me of the hurricane. James and I in the exact same position as Peggy and I are currently in: me behind her, her in front of me with her hand gripped tightly around my elbow. Waters rushing around us, curving upwards into waves, crashing at our skin, nearly knocking us over onto dead bodies that surround us. Wind rushing through the humid atmosphere, thunder crackling, lightning flashing. James death replays in my head over and over again, how useless I was just sitting there, watching. I just watched. I could have done something but I didn’t. I just stood there and screamed. Screamed as the tree itself falls and falls and falls, crashing onto James.

I feel the corners of my eyes brimming with tears as we swerve to the left, panting hard, our blood pumping through our veins with adrenaline. My breathing becomes sharp and ragged as I constantly glance over my shoulder, searching checking to see if “The Big Three” were still after us. So far, I don’t see anyone. I turn back to Peggy. She glances over her shoulder, her eyes wide as the sun as she tries to jiggle the knob to a door open. Her hands trembling. I glance over my shoulder too, checking one last time. In a blink, there they come. The three teenage boys, who are known here as “The Big Three”, stalks down the hallway. Students eye them frighteningly and push themselves against their lockers. I grip my hand on Peggy’s shoulder tighter.

“Hurry!” I gasp.

She curses and yanks a bobby pin from her hair, using it to pick the lock. Fortunately, we hear it click. Peggy swings the door open, shoving me inside…the janitor’s closet? Before shoving herself inside the closet and locking the door.

I back up into a yellow bucket and glance down to find a mop inside it. I turn back to Peggy, my arms wrapped around myself tightly. She runs a hand through her walnut curls and lets out a cackled laugh. She turns to me, frowning.

“Hey, you alright, Alex?” she asks, her hand on my shoulder.

I look up sharply, almost wildly and smirk.

“That was awesome!” I squeal. “It felt like a scene in a movie!”

She sighs heavily out her mouth, folding her arms over her chest and sliding against the closed door, her knees up to her chest as she rests her crossed arms on top of her knees.

“Guess we’ll just have to hang out here for a while,” she hums. “Or until the bell rings for second period.”

I nod and lean against the wall.

“Who are The Big Three exactly?” I say after a moment of silence between us. “I mean, their names?”

She sighs, wincing at each name she says.

“Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and…Charles Lee,” she grumbles. “I don’t know why we call them The Big Three exactly, like their origin. I guess it’s just they’re always around each other everywhere they go that it’s where people here got the group’s name from.”

I nod. “Oh. Makes sense.”

Silence. For about five minutes, there’s silence inside the janitor’s closet until—

“So, you’re impoverished? Not to be rude or anything, I’m just curious.”

I press my lips together, swallowing hard before letting out a shaky breath.

“Yeah. I was,” I confess. There’s no point in lying to her. I know I can’t hide it from my new friends forever. They’ll find out the truth eventually whether I want them to or not. Plus, they deserve to know.

Peggy arches an eyebrow as she looks up at me, her knees still pressed against her chest with her folded forearms on top of her kneecaps. I slide down the wall next to the bucket which has the mop inside it and sit in the same position as her. I swallow hard, letting out a nervous, shaky breath.

“Okay, look,” I say after clearing my throat. “You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone I’m about to tell you, alright? Not even your sisters or any of your friends. Got it?”

She hesitates, biting the corner of her bottom lip. “Alex…I hate lying to my sisters…”

“I know, Peggy,” I say. “But you have to promise me you won’t tell them or anyone else until I’m ready or I give you permission you can. Okay?”

She nods, but doesn’t respond. She just stares into my violet eyes and I heave a sigh through my nose, long and slow. Well. Here goes nothing…

“I came from Nevis, in the British West Indies in the Caribbean,” I begin. I keep my eyes trained on my shoes as I clench and unclench my already sweaty palms. I blink several times before clearing my throat again. “It…it wasn’t as pretty as you think it is. It was horrible. But that’s where I was born. And…when I was about ten…my uh…” I swallow, licking my dry, chapped lips before letting out another nervous laugh. “My uh…my father abandoned my family when I was about ten. I don’t know why. I just know he just left my brother, my mother and I to fend for ourselves and I never saw him again.”

I look up at her, locking my eyes with hers, waiting for her reaction or any questions she might have. She doesn’t say anything. She just has her lips pressed together in a straight line, her brows knitted together as she gawks at me. Her expression is placid, almost blank, like she’s staring off into the distance past my shoulder. I continue on anyways.

“Then, when I was about twelve,” I continue. “My mother had fallen seriously ill. We don’t know what the disease was at the time and pretty soon, I had contracted that same disease she had.” I swallow. I wait for Peggy’s response. Still nothing. I eye her worriedly before shaking it off and continuing on with my tragic story. “I manage to survive the illness…manage to pull through but my mother…she…”

“Died,” Peggy whispers, her voice barely audible.

I swallow again and nod shakily, my eyes brimming with tears. I bite the inside of my cheek.

“God, Alex,” Peggy breaths, looking aghast. “I’m so sorry…”

I smile softly up at her, reassuringly. “It’s fine, Pegs. Thank you. But I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” she says. “We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to…”

“No, no,” I say. “You deserve to know.”

She nods and remains quiet for a moment before letting me continue.

“Then, shortly after my mother died, my brother, James, and I moved in with our cousin, Peter. Who not long after we moved in…c-c-committed suicide,” I whimper. I close my eyes for a moment, seeing my cousin on his bed that day, surrounded in a pool of blood. The thought makes my stomach twist and I suddenly feel like I want to throw up my breakfast from this morning.

Peggy’s eyes widen slightly, her face paling.

“Oh my God,” she breathes.

“It only gets worse from there,” I say.

“What happened…?” she whimpers.

I swallow. “About fourteen, a hurricane came and it…it destroyed everything. It destroyed everything I knew and loved from my childhood. It destroyed my home and killed millions of people. My brother included.”

Silence.

I wait for a moment.

“I don’t know, but I manage to survive through that. All of that. The most vivid thing I remember, the most common thing that pops up in my head in my nightmares at night, is my brother’s death and…the bodies that were in the flood. There so much dead bodies in the water…so many…children included—”

“Okay, Alex, I think you should stop—”

“Then, shortly after the hurricane ended, I wrote my way out. I wrote my story into the papers and people, strangers, heard my story and helped me get a ship that’ll make sail to New York. When I landed into the New York harbor, I found Martha Washington—Mr. Washington’s wife—at a marketplace. She introduced herself to me and I did the same. She heard my story and immediately took me to the Washington’s residence where I was introduced to George and he also heard my story from her. She insisted that they take me in as their son, as part of their family. George agreed nonetheless, without hesitation. Since then, I have lived with them for the past three years and here we are.”

“Wow…” Peggy breathes. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Alex…”

I smile reassuringly at her, though it’s small and probably not as convincing as I’d like it to be. I shrug like it’s no big deal.

“It’s fine, Pegs,” I say. “Really.” I frown. “It’s just…I was afraid of what you might think. I mean, throughout my whole life up to this day, I had been taunted with words like: bastard, orphan, son of a whore, etcetera. I never really openly expressed my past to people except for my adoptive family, I’ve always kept these things to myself. But it’s alright. Really. I’m alright.”

“Alex,” she says. She crawls on all fours to me and sits down next to me on my left side. “You’re not those things. You’re more than those things people say about you. What they say about you, Alex, is a lie.”

“Really?”

She nods and lifts her arm hesitantly. “Yeah. May I?”

I let out a chuckle and nod. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

She slides her arm around my shoulders and rubs my shoulder up and down comfortingly.

“You know what I think?” she says.

I raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“I think that was incredible,” she says. “Tragic, but incredible at the same! I mean, you survived all those things! You survived through all of that and look at where you are now! A high school student! You’re not a bastard or a son of a whore, Alexander. What I see, is an angsty, depressed teenage boy.”

I give her a look, but instead of glowering at her, I feel the corners of my lips turn upward slightly. Those two words that came out of her mouth: angsty and depressed literally describes my current life.

“I’m joking!” Peggy giggles, slapping my forearm playfully. “But…what I really see, Alex, is a brave teenager. A brave, strong, teenage boy. A smart and kind-hearted kid. You’re not those things, Alex. Trust me when I say that you’re not.”

“Thank you, Peggy,” I say quietly as I feel tears brimming at the corners of my eyes. “Thank you…”

“Of course,” she says. “I mean, that’s what friends are for right?”

I look into her hazelnut brown orbs, seeing my small reflection inside her dark pupils. I feel my little smile becoming wider as I nod.

“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

I FEEL A hand on my shoulder, shaking me harshly. I jolt up, my eyes snapping open, letting out a strained gasp. I blink rapidly, blinking out the brightness out of my eyes and groaning, pressing a hand onto the side of my temple. When my blurred vision clears, I see Peggy standing above me, shaking my shoulder. Did I fall asleep? I must have.

“What—” I begin, but Peggy cuts me off.

“Come on, Alex!” she says breathlessly. “The bell’s ringing!”

I groan, huffing out a breath with my palm still pressed against my temple as I slowly sit up. It’s then that I notice black dots swim around in my vision. I blink them away, groaning again. Peggy extends her hand out toward me and I clasp my small hand around hers and she yanks me up from the spot where I was sleeping on the floor. Peggy hesitantly opens the janitor’s closet door with myself standing close behind her. I peek over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow as Peggy scans the hall up and down, checking to see if The Big Three are still there. Thankfully, they’re not.

I follow Peggy out of the closet and close the door behind me gently. We blend ourselves together in the crowded hallways as the student’s head toward their classes. About fifteen minutes of walking later, Peggy’s eyes lit up when she sees a familiar girl in a sky-blue blouse standing at a locker. Peggy grins as she grabs my elbow again and jogs down the hallway, dragging me behind her toward her elder sister.

“Liza!” Peggy shouts, her hand shooting up in the air in a desperate wave.

Eliza pokes her head around the open locker door, confused and then she beams when she sees her younger sister dragging me down the hall after her toward her.

“Peggy!” Eliza squeals, wrapping her thin arms around her sister in a tight embrace. I stay a few inches back, feeling awkward and more like a third-wheel around them. “Where’ve you been?! Angie’s been looking for you and she nearly called the police! You’re lucky I was there to stop her!”

Peggy giggles, rolling her eyes. “I’m fine, Liza!” She frowns when she meets Eliza’s eyes again. “Alex and I…well…we were trying to escape The Big Three.”

Eliza gasps, a hand hovering above her mouth, her dark chocolate brown eyes widening slightly. “Oh my God…did you…did you?”

“No, we didn’t get caught,” I interrupt. “We found a janitor’s closet nearby and hid there until the bell rang and they had no choice but to go to their classes.” I point at Peggy. “That was all her idea.”

“Oh,” Eliza gasps, embracing us both. “I’m glad you two are alright. Are you alright, Alex?”

“Yeah,” I assure her. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Come on,” Eliza says. “We should head to class, before Angelica kills both of you for scaring her half to death.”

***
I find myself sitting next to John Laurens himself in Biology. He doesn’t question me much, just mind his own business as he jots down notes from the white board in front of the classroom or answering worksheet questions while flipping through his textbook for references. I don’t mind at all whatsoever. It’s about halfway through class, when Laurens turns to me with those sparkling sapphire blue eyes of his and whispers, “So, how was English? How’d it go?”

I eye him sideways, my eyes flickering toward his and landing on his blue ones while my face is still facing toward the front of the class, my chin resting in my palm. I shrug.

“Was alright,” I say. “Not as bad as thought it would be. It was boring though.”

Laurens’s scoff is mixed with a snort. He nods. “Yeah. All classes here are pure torture. Six essays a day for homework this, project due in two days that, exams this, benchmark tests that, SOL tests here. I feel like I’m a prisoner in here. I don’t know if I can stand it here much longer. I mean, if I stay here any longer, I’m going to punch someone and it’s not gonna be pretty.”

I arch an eyebrow, trying to hide my smirk with the back of my hand as the students around us stop what they’re doing and slowly crane their heads over toward us, looking a bit terrified, as if they just saw a ghost.

“You heard me!” Laurens says.

I couldn’t hold back a snort. It escapes me before I could even stop myself. I pat Laurens’s shoulder.

“Gil would definitely like you, Laurens,” I chuckle while still patting his shoulder.

Laurens whips his head over his shoulder back at me and frowns, his brows knitting together and therefore causing a crease to form in his forehead.

“Who’s Gil?” he says.

“My brother,” I say with a smudge look on my face.

Laurens blinks a couple of times as he lets the information sink in and opens his mouth, eyes widening.

“Oh.”

Silence. And then—

“Oooh!”

I just roll my eyes with a laugh.

***
It’s just twenty minutes past noon now when the bell rings. I’m finishing up my Politics and Economics class, gathering my notebooks and textbooks and my three-ringed binder as I stuff them inside my bookbag hastily when the bell goes off for lunch. I zip my bookbag up, swinging the strap over my shoulder before pushing my chair in with my hip. I rush out the classroom door before my Politics and Economics teacher, Mr. Adams, could utter a word.

I check the clock above the lockers each time I pass one, checking the time. It’s around 12:35 in the afternoon when I run into him. He stands before me with his muscular arms over his chest as my face crashes into his chest, making an “Oof” sound escape me. I look up to see a brunette teenage boy with raven black eyes staring down at me with a cunning smirk on his face, an eyebrow raised as he just watches me plummet to the white-tiled floors, my bookbag—thankfully—makes the impact less painful when my body makes contact with the floor. Pain shoots through my whole body, my head pounds as if someone were slamming a sledge hammer against my forehead multiple times without ceasing. I groan, pressing my palm up to my forehead and slowly prop myself up onto one elbow so I’m sitting upright with my knees bent a little.

“Well, well, well,” says a cunning voice from behind me. It sounds southern. “What do we have here?”

I look over my shoulder and my heart stops beating, my eyes widening as my hand slowly lowers itself from the corner of my temple.

Thomas Jefferson strides toward me in one smooth motion, almost graceful, almost like he’s ice skating. He towers above me with a smirk on his face, his arms crossed over his chest and his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief against the afternoon sunlight shining through the windows in the hallways. I swallow thickly, biting my tongue to keep me from saying anything.

“My…aren’t you a pretty. What’s your name, kid? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in these halls before…” he says in his thick southern accent.

I feel the lump in my throat go up and down as I scoot back, only to be stopped by someone’s knees crashing into my bag. I look up to see the Pot Belly kid behind me with his arms also over his chest.

The Big Three.

“You shouldn’t be going down these halls alone, boy,” Jefferson says sweetly. Scarily sweetly, I should say. He says it in a way that makes my blood go cold.

“Aren’t ya going to say somethin’?!” the brunette kid, Charles Lee, snaps.

“I think he’s mute,” says Pot Belly, but was soon interrupted with a cough.

Jefferson crouches down to about my level, his arms draped over his legs as he crouches down in front of me. His eyes flicker up and down, left to right and it’s then that I realize he’s analyzing me, taking in every possible detail I have. Memorizing what I look like.

“Your eyes,” Jefferson whispers. “They’re such a strange color…they’re…like…a lavender purple color but with flecks of royal blue mixed in them. Strange…yet beautiful at the same time…”

I swallow hard before letting out a shaky breath. “Wh-What do you want?”

“Ah! So, he speaks!” Jefferson exclaims, tossing his hands up in the air.

“What do you want?” I growl through gritted teeth.

“What I want?” Jefferson says. He taps his chin, pondering about something as he looks up around us. “What do I want…hm…glad you asked that question, kid. Lift him up, boys!”

I’m hoisted onto my feet abruptly, sharply, as I feel two hands clench around my small bicep on my arm as I’m suddenly lifted off the ground. Lee grabs my left arm, twisting it back a little, while Pot Belly grabs my right, also twisting it a little behind my back. I grunt as I thrash around in their grasp, trying to yank my arms free. But unfortunately, no dice. “Let me go!” I grunt, trying to thrust my elbow out of Pot Belly’s grasp, only to hit him in his protruding stomach with my elbow, hard enough that he doubles over which sends him into a coughing fit. I try desperately to step onto Lee’s foot with the heel of my shoe, or even better, try to kick him in the spot.

“Hey!”

Jefferson towers over me and for a moment, only for a moment, do I stop struggling. He smirks evilly, laughing to himself darkly and I swallow, licking my lips.

“Your adorable when you’re angry, kid, you know that?” he says.

I don’t respond. Jefferson just heaves a sigh through his nose and forces a smile. Not a kind one at that either…

“You and I, kid, are going to have so much fun…” he taunts. “Now…tell me who you are…?”

I scoff, locking my violet eyes with his hazel ones, seeing myself in his pupils.

“Why would I do that?” I say sarcastically.

Jefferson’s cunning smirk turns into a scowl. “Because I asked. I just want to know your name. That’s all.”

“Alexander,” I say. And that’s all I say.

Jefferson’s cunning grin returns again. “Ah. Ah. Ha-ha! Oh, man. This is great. This is just great.” A pause. “You’re Washington’s boy, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You’re his son. His precious Little Lion.”

I feel my eye twitch and curl my fingers into my palms and biting my tongue to back off any snidely insults.

“His little boy,” Jefferson taunts. “Oh, I know you, Hamilton.”

I freeze, my wide eyes flickering toward his. How’d he know my last name? When I didn’t even give it to him?

“Seventeen,” Jefferson says. “An immigrant. Came from the British West Indies in Nevis near St. Croix.”

“What are you?” I demand with a scoff, glaring daggers into Jefferson’s eyes. “Sherlock Holmes?”

He shrugs. “Pretty much. Now shut up.”

Just for the fun of it, Lee swings his fist into my jaw, causing my head to swerve around my shoulder before it lulls back toward Jefferson and my head hangs low. I breathe in huge swallows of air, trying to get as much air as possible before Lee or Pot Belly gives me the next blow. But to my surprise, they don’t. I feel Jefferson’s cold fingers wrap tightly around my chin and he jerks my head upward sharply, causing me to wince, and forces me to stare deep into his eyes. I grimace as I feel his fingers tightening around my jaw and chin.

“James Hamilton. Abandoned him and his mother and brother to fend for themselves at the age of ten. Never saw him again. Two years later, age twelve, mother got sick. Hammie got sick too. Mommy died but Hammie didn’t.”

“Stop it,” I whisper, my voice shaky as I try to even out my ragged breaths.

“Age fourteen and a hurricane came.”

“Stop it.”

“Destroyed everything. Destroyed everything he knew and loved. Killed people he knew and loved—”

“Stop. It.” I say it bitterly, like I tasted something sour and sharply too.

“Including his brother.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I jab my elbows into both Lee’s and Pot Belly’s stomach, kicking both of them in their spots, causing them to double over and wheeze, coughing roughly. I grab hold of Jefferson’s collar and shove him against the locker door. He just smirks, revealing a little bit of white teeth.

“There we go…” Jefferson smirks. “There we go…”

I don’t say anything for a moment. I just stare deep into those stupid hazel eyes of his and breathing heavily, almost sharply through my nose, my lips twitching as Jefferson laughs cunningly whilst shaking his head. I grip his collar tighter, snarling like a dog as I slam him into the locker. He just cackles on.

“Shut. Up,” I hiss.

“Or what, Hammie?” Jefferson teases, wiggling his eyebrows with a playful smirk on his face. I try not to wince or grimace when he called me “Hammie.” “Gonna cry to your Mommy about it? Oh, wait. She’s dead.”

I don’t know what happened, but I’m now on the floor. Students around us gasps and stare at us with wide, intriguing yet frightening eyes. Now, I’m on top of Jefferson, gripping the collar of his shirt tightly into curled fists and punching, punching, punching the living daylights out of him. I think I hear his jaw crack once. I hear shouting. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I can hear it. It’s distant and faint but I can still hear it. My ears are ringing, almost blocking out the noise. Throughout the punches, all Jefferson does is smirk with a cracked lip. Dark red blood stains his upper lip as he smirks, his eyes half-opened.

“That’s it, Alexander,” Jefferson sneers quietly, so only I could hear. “That’s it…you know what you are?” A pause, my hand hovers just above his jaw, waiting for my next cue to give him another blow. “You know what you are, Alexander? You’re a bastard. You’re a poor bastard, little orphan who has no money, no family. I don’t know what Washington sees in you, Hamilton.”

I swing another blow to his jaw, but he just laughs and laughs his little stupid laugh. He still flashes his stupid little smirk on his face. I keep swinging and swinging and swinging until I can’t think of anything. Until it feels almost as though my mind were blank. Literally. No words popped into my head. For once, I was actually speechless.

“Alexander!” I hear a voice shout. It’s sharp and male, defienetly male, but it had a tinge of southern to it. “Alexander! Alex! Alex, stop!”

I feel two pair of strong hands grip my arms tightly. I feel myself being lifted up off of Jefferson’s almost limp body. He can still move his arms and legs, but it hurts for him to do so. I toss and turn, trashing my arms, trying to get out of the person’s grip. My legs kicking in the air, swinging back and forth frantically. My heart thumping against my chest, my breathing sharp, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes as my past haunts me.

I feel someone, the person who lifted me up off of Jefferson, drag me down the hall away from the crowd. Once we were a safe distance away, I sag against the person’s grip, against his chest, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as I feel hot tears roll down my freckled cheeks. The person sits me down gently on the floor, but I’m still pressed against his chest. I feel his muscular arms around me and I feel his cheek on my head as he rocks me side to side gently, soothingly. I hear his heart thumping softly against my ear as I clutch onto his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of it into my palms and pressing my face in between my fists.

He shushes me, tells me to breathe, and that it’s alright. That I’m okay. I’m okay. But I’m not. I’m not okay. My wails soon turn into gasps, into choked hiccups. I slowly open my eyes, blinking them, as I let out a shaky breath and swallow hard, licking my lips. I look toward the crowd, my head still pressed against his chest. The crowd has slowly dispersed, heading toward lunch. I see Lee eyeing me with a pathetic look and a smirk before turning around the corner. Now? It’s just the two of us in the empty hallways. My sobs bouncing off the walls and making them echo.

I sniff, blinking my eyes quickly, before finally looking up to see who had come to my rescue. My violet eyes meet diamond blue ones. They’re beautiful. The blue irises are like the colors of the sky on a sunny day with flecks of either green or gray mixed with them, I can’t tell. It looks a little bit of both. His eyes are full of worry and concern for my well-being. His light brown eyebrows are knitted together softly, his sandy blonde hair slightly disheveled and askew out of his ponytail, but still intact. I feel my cheeks grow warm as I swallow, pressing my lips together and ducking my chin toward my collarbone embarrassingly.

Of course.

Of course, it’s John Laurens.

Of course!

“Hey,” he says, his voice a little hoarse as he lifts my chin up with his cold fingers to meet his rich blue eyes. He grins a little. “You alright, Alex? Jefferson didn’t hurt you…did he?”

“No,” I say, flashing him an unconvincing reassuring smile as I shake my head, my thin arms around my small, narrow body. “No, he didn’t. He just…trigged something and I just overreacted. I’m fine, John. Really.”

He hesitates for a moment, biting his lower lip before exhaling long and slow out his mouth. He nods, finally giving in.

“Alright. If you say so, Alexander,” he says, standing up off of the tiled floor.

He looks down at me and smiles softly as he extends out his hand.

“Now, come on. Turn that frown upside down and let’s go spoil ourselves with pepperoni pizza and a chocolate milkshake and a king size package of Skittles. Sounds good?”

I force a chuckle to escape me. There’s no point in hiding it. I nod, placing my hand gently in his and I smirk at our hand’s size difference as he pulls me up to my feet. Now, standing in front of him, I’m only up to his shoulder and he’s above my head. Lucky bastard. Laurens slings his arms around my shoulders and guides me to the cafeteria.

Chapter Text

“WHERE THE ABSOLUTE hell have you been!” Angelica shrieks with a hiss through her clenched teeth as Laurens and I carry our trays toward a long, wooden table. Angelica stands from her seat, both hands gripping the edge of the table tightly, so tight her knuckles turn white, with wild eyes. Eliza sits on the right side of her elder sister, rolling her eyes as she chews on a cheese stick while scrolling lazily through her phone. Peggy sits on the left side of Angelica, across from Laurens, while scooping up forkfuls of lettuce, watching the intense scene between Angelica and I play out. Peggy arches both eyebrows with mere curiosity as she chews her lunch, her lettuce crunching between her teeth. “I have been looking everywhere for you, Alexander! I thought you were kidnapped or something and I almost called the freaking FBI! You’re lucky I didn’t do that, because if that were to happen, Mr. Washington would freak out! So. Tell me, Alexander! Where. Have. You. Been?!”

“I-I um…I uh…” I stare at her with wide, fearful eyes as she pins me to my seat on the bench across from the three. I would scoot over to Laurens for comfort and moral support but…her eyes are literally on fire and it’s terrifying me. I swallow hard. “I um…I was just er…I um…they found me…”

Silence.

Angelica tilts her head a little, her brows knitted together as she takes in the information that I have just said to her. Peggy glances at Eliza, who shrugs, before glancing back at me. I lock my violet eyes with her warm brown ones and nod slowly. As it clicks together, Peggy’s eyes widen.

“Oh my God,” Peggy gasps.

I duck my chin down, feeling a little ashamed and humiliated.

“What?” Angelica says, oblivious. “What is it?”

“Did you…?” Eliza says, swallowing.

Laurens nods for me, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders comfortingly, squeezing my shoulder as I try to avoid the Sister’s shocked stare.

“Yeah, he did,” Laurens answers for me. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“What’d you do?!” Peggy wonders, but a small grin appears on her face as she rests her elbow on the table behind her lunch tray and rests her chin in her palm, suddenly intrigued.

“I um…” I say, glancing up at Laurens as I scratch the back of my neck. Laurens nods, flashing a small reassuring smile on his face before I turn my attention back to the Sisters. “I uh…I may have punched the living daylights out of Thomas Jefferson…”

“What?!” Angelica shrieks, her eyes blown wide. “You what?!”

“I,” I say slowly and clearly. I keep my eyes locked with hers, showing her I’m being serious. I point at my chest. “Punched.” I make a punching motion with my fists. “Thomas Jefferson in the face.” I make a motion with my fist toward my face, to demonstrate what I did.

“Woah!” Peggy says. She looks toward her elder sister. “Can we keep him, Ange?!”

Angelica just gawks at me, her mouth hanging open down toward her collarbone, her eyes wide as a volleyball. She still stands up from her seat on the bench across from Laurens and I. She blinks and sits down, stunned.

“Wow,” is all she says. She blinks again, shock finally taking over her. “Wow.” Another blink. “Wow.” Another blink. “Wow.”

“You seriously punched Jefferson in the face?” Eliza asks, a small grin appearing on her face.

I nod, licking my puckered lips. “Yep. To the point where he can still move his limbs, but barely.”

“Is that why there’s scrapes of blood on your knuckles?” Peggy says, pointing at my red-stained knuckles.

I turn my hand around to see my knuckles and sure enough, bright red scrapes scatter across my knuckles.

“Yep,” I say, popping out the “P.”

“What happened?” Eliza asks. “I mean, what’d he do to make you fight him?”

I wince, biting my lower lip as I debate on whether to tell them or not. So, instead, I just say, “He just…said some things about my past and it triggered me. It made me ballistic, hysterical, you should say. I’m fine, really. I didn’t know what I was doing most of the time. I was just…hysterical. But I’m fine now. I think that really helped me a lot.”

“Are you sure, honey?” Eliza asks sweetly, resting her hand on my forearm.

I lock my eyes with hers and nod. “Yeah. Thankfully, Laurens stopped me in time before it could have gotten worse. But yeah. I’m fine, Eliza. Really, thank you.”

“Of course.”

A few more minutes have passed as the five of us chatted while eating our lunches. We’ll tell tales of our childhood or of our future, or what our future careers would be or even politics. We’d share dreams that we had the previous night, except for me. I opted not to share mine. We’d laugh about the occasional jokes Peggy would share or be intrigued with gossip Angelica would share to us or talk about Laurens’s family.

Apparently, Laurens was from Charleston, South Carolina like he told me when I had first arrived here at King’s High when he helped me with my locker. He’s the eldest son of senator Henry Laurens, who Laurens explained to us he didn’t have a wonderful relationship with. Laurens also tells us he has four younger siblings named Martha, James, Henry, and Mary, and that he wishes to go to Harvard College to study Marine Biology and possibly Law and soon join the military. Currently, here in the school, Laurens plays quarterback for the school’s football team and that his girlfriend is named Martha Manning. So, that was the girl who ran and jumped up on him at the school’s entranceway this morning… I think as I listen to him talk about his past.

The most vivid feature I keep gazing at is the scar etched underneath his eye as it trails down to his jawline on his right cheek. I knit my brows, causing a crease to form in my forehead as I tilt my head a little to examine his features closely. He doesn’t appear to have any other flaws on him, from my point of view at least. Other than his scar, his pale face is smooth and flawless, sharp and determined. His shoulder-length blonde hair is still pulled back into his low ponytail, using a blue hair tie to secure it. His sapphire blue eyes shine and twinkle against the afternoon sunlight shining through the cafeteria’s window across the room from us. I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s quite intriguing.

“You alright, Alexander?” Laurens’s southern accent says, startling me from my racing thoughts. I feel his hand on my shoulder.

I yelp, startled, as I whip my head over toward him. He eyes me worriedly, a small concern smile on his face as he tilts his head slightly.

“Oh,” I say. “Um…yeah. I’m fine. It’s just…uh…I have…I have an um…I have a question for you, John, if you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, sure,” Laurens says. “Ask away, Alex.”

I swallow. “Well, um…you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to or if it makes you comfortable to talk about—I completely understand—it’s just uh…um…”

“Alex?” Laurens says, arching an eyebrow.

I take a deep breath before clearing my throat. “How’d you um…how you um…how’d you—”

“How’d I get this?” he finishes, tapping his scarred cheek gently with a knowing smirk on his face.

I nod but I don’t say anything. Laurens hesitantly glances over his shoulder at the Sisters who are waiting for his response before turning back to me. He leans down a little and I feel my breath hitch slightly at the coldness of his breath as it tickles my skin.

“Meet me at your locker after lunch,” he whispers into my ear. “I’ll tell you then.”

I nod again as he pulls back. He swivels around so he’s facing the three Sisters as if nothing happened.

For once, I don’t say a word.

***

I wait by the lockers impatiently for Laurens, my slim arms across my chest as I impatiently tap my foot against the white tiled floors. I look around me with a vacant expression on my face around the claustrophobic halls. Students linger against their lockers, some opening the lockers while others closes theirs. Couples make out against the lockers. I have to fight the urge to fake vomiting my guts out when my eyes land on that. Bullies taunt nerds. Others laugh and joke around, some just scroll on their phones lazily, their eyes filled with boredom as they wait for the bell to ring. Others just walk down the halls casually with their friends.

I’m about to leave my locker, gripping the strap to my bookbag tightly when I hear a shoe squeak against the tiled floors, catching my attention. I whip my head over my shoulder and I see Laurens himself jogging down the halls, mumbling apologies as he shoves against other’s shoulders. I feel a fond smile appear on my face as he approaches me, looking breathless. He smiles sheepishly down at me when he sees my worried, frustrated look and scratches the nape of his neck awkwardly. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Uh…sorry I’m late…” he chuckles.

I raise an eyebrow. “John, you’re fifteen minutes late. What happened?”

He sighs heavily. “I ran into her.”

“Her?” I repeat with curiosity in my voice as I tilt my head to one shoulder.

“Martha,” he says, grimacing at her name. “Martha Manning. My girlfriend my father forced me to date.”

Oh.

“Why would he force you to date her if you don’t like her?” I wonder.

Laurens looks around us, making sure no one is eavesdropping on our conversation before leaning close to me that our noses almost nuzzle against each other’s and I can feel his cold, icy breath on my warm skin as he whispers into my ear quietly, “Swear to me when I tell you this, Alexander, not to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

I swallow the lump of nervousness down my throat, staring wide-eyed past his shoulder before letting out a shaky breath. “I promise…”

“Can I trust you?” Laurens asks, a bit louder.

“Of course,” I assure him, locking my violet eyes with those icy blue ones. “I won’t tell a soul unless you want me to do so.”

Quietly as possible, Laurens whispers shakily into my ear, “Because I’m gay.”

He leans back away from my personal space and inhales sharply through his nose. He holds his breath, I can hear him doing it, as his eyes widens slightly, waiting for my reaction. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip again, wrapping his arms around himself as he leans against the locker across from me, one ankle wrapped around the other. The blood in his face draining quickly, making his skin look porcleian, almost white as snow.

I don’t say anything for a few minutes. I just gawk at him as though he were some exotic animal, my own eyes widening with surprise, my mouth hanging open a little. I was totally not expecting that.

Laurens’s face falls deeper when he sees my expression. He sighs through his nose, shaking his head as he ducks his chin towards his collarbone, He doesn’t meet my gaze and swallows thickly.

“Shocking,” he says after a while of silence between us, his southern accent rolling off his tongue beautifully. “I know, right? Go ahead. Say it.”

I blink my eyes rapidly, clamping my half-opened mouth shut as I’m slightly being brought back to reality.

“Say what?” I breathe, almost like a gasp.

“You’re disgusted of me, aren’t you?” Laurens grumbles, still not meeting my eyes. My heart clenches tightly as I see him shrink a little. “And don’t lie to me too. I know that look. It was the same look my father gave me when I told him…”

“John…” I say, hesitantly stepping closer to him, biting my own lip. I look up into those beautiful, crystal blue eyes which makes my heart shatter to see they have tears brimming in them. “John, listen to me. I’m not disgusted by you. I totally support you. I do with every ounce in my heart. I was just surprised, shocked. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Really?” Laurens says, finally locking his eyes with mine. He smirks a little as he asks that question, raising an eyebrow.

I nod. “Yes. Really. I don’t see anything wrong against loving the same gender. I mean, after all, love is love right? It doesn’t matter if it’s a female or a male or how old you are. If that person makes you happy, then so be it.”

Silence.

I frown when I don’t hear a response from him and look up. I notice tears glisten in his eyes, making those blue irises twinkle against the fluorescent light above us. I tilt my head to one shoulder, confusion written all over my face.

“John…?” I say worriedly.

“That was…the kindest thing anyone’s said to me,” he whimpers. “Thank you, Alex.”

“Of course,” I giggle, punching his shoulder playfully. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” he says through his own giggle which sounds rough and southern.

“So,” I say, after another moment of silence. “If you don’t like Martha whatsoever, then how come your father is making you date her?”

He pauses, furrowing his brows together as he frowns. I can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure out how to best explain it in a way I’d understand. Laurens looks back up at me.

“My father thinks by dating her it would cure me,” he explains. He waits for any questions that I might have before continuing. He sighs through his mouth. “My parents were serious Christians and did everything a Christian would do. They’re strongly against people like me and believes a woman and a man should be together, not the same gender if you know what I mean.”

He looks up at me, waiting for me to respond. I nod, but I don’t say anything. I let him continue his story. He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, swallowing thickly.

“It was when I was in boarding school did everything change. When I was fourteen, in boarding school, my…my mother had died in a car accident…”

I let out a breath, a sympathetic breath at that, as I reach out to comfort him, placing my hand gently on his forearm. He looks down at me and forces a fake smile on his face. I return the smile.

“After my mother’s death, my father became an alcoholic. I knew it was just his way of coping his grief and all but…” He trials off, a forlorn look on his face. He looks distant.

“But what, John?” I prompt.

Laurens sighs again and rolls up his sleeves toward his elbows. I look down curiously and instantly regret it. On his arms are faint red scars all over. He lifts the hem of his shirt slightly just stopping underneath his belly button. I feel my cheeks grow warm as I chew on the inside of my cheek, staring wide eyed at the scars. After a while, he lowers the hem of his shirt back down and slide his sleeves back to their original position before crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

“He did that,” Laurens continues. He locks his eyes with mine again and I swear I can feel my heart stop beating. “My father.” He looks away from my shocked gaze. Silence.

“My father…” He chokes on the word, grimacing at how pathetic his voice sounds. I rest my hand on his forearm gently, rubbing it up and down comfortingly, shushing him. “My father would…would do things to me. Horrible things. It still haunts me to this day. He’d get so angry for no reason and just…smash glass—alcohol bottles to be exact—everywhere. Especially on me.” He pauses and points to the long scar etched on his cheek. “That’s how I got this…”

I’m speechless again. Whatever train of thought I may had evaporated like dust. Trailed off. I stare at his scar intently, shocked at the fact that his father did this. Laurens frowns again, his cheeks turning a light shade of red as he ducks his chin towards his chest.

“So…yeah…” he says. He looks up at me again. “Just promise me, Alex, you won’t tell anyone about this?”

“You have my word, Laurens,” I say with a grin.

And I know I’ve earned his trust. He grins back.

After third period, comes gym. I stand in front of the male’s locker room holding a plain white t-shirt and a pair of balling shorts. I stare at the entranceway with a rather frightening look as boys meander here and there through the room. Some laughing and joking, others scrolling on their phones again lazily while they change. It’s times like these I wish Lafayette were here.

I press my lips together in a straight line, sucking in a huge breath and holding it there before stepping into the locker room. I let the breath out as I scan the room, hoping to find Laurens so at least it wouldn’t be half as bad. I flinch at every bang I hear, every loud shriek of laughter. I keep my head down as I try to find a random locker, mumbling pathetic apologies here and there as I shove through the crowd. I reach one in time and remembering how Laurens did it, unlock the lock that’s on the door. Fortunately, the door swings open without any difficult. I grin in triumph.

I glance back around over my shoulder, making sure no one is watching me. I set my gym clothes on the wooden bench behind me and grab the hem of my shirt in my small fingers before wiggling myself out of my shirt. I slide it off and let out a breath, before looking back over my shoulder again, my paranoia getting the best of me. Luckily, no eyes are trained on me.

Okay. That wasn’t so bad.

I turn back around again. I slide my arms through the sleeves first before poking my head through head hole when I feel a tap on my shoulder blade. Instinctively, I yelp and whip around. I hear a destressed cry of pain and look around stupidly for the intruder, my fists still up. I freeze when I see a boy about my age, huddling on the ground while cupping his cheek. He looks similar to Lafayette: with peach colored skin and ginger-orange frizzled hair. Though, his glasses are askew and he winces as he looks back up at me.

“Oh my God!” I gasp, crouching down to his level, holding out my hand while placing the other hand on his back to help him sit up. “I am so sorry! I did not mean to do that to you whatsoever! I truly apologize! That was merely self-defense! Are you alright, kid?”

His hazel brown eyes meets mine and he laughs. I frown. Of all things, he laughs? He sits up a bit straighter, crossing his legs on top of each other. I do the same without thinking.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m alright. I understand it was self-defense. Someone taught you good.”

I scoff with a laugh in between, nodding my head with agreement.

“Yeah. My older brother taught me some a few years ago.” I quickly re-extend my hand out toward him for him to shake. “Alexander. My name’s Alexander Hamilton. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Samuel,” he laughs, shaking my hand with a nod of his head. “Samuel Seabury. A pleasure as well.”

“Are you new here too?” I ask out of the blue.

He shakes his head. “No. I’ve been to King’s since freshman year. But I heard you were here and well, I’ve always wanted to meet the Little Lion.”

I eye him wearily, knitting my brows together. “How…how did you know—”

“That’s what Lafayette used to call you,” he says. “I used to be friends with him before he graduated. He would always talk about you, you know? Always called you a Little Lion because your red hair reminded him of a lion’s mane and your loud talking and your powerful ways with the English language reminds him of a lion’s roar. It’s an honor to meet you, Alexander.”

I give him a fond smile. “Call me Alex. And you too, Samuel.”

“Call me Sam,” he says.

“Alex!” a familiar southern accent’s voice echoes throughout the locker room. I frown, glancing over at Seabury who shrugs before turning back toward the sea of teenage boys before me. I see a hand poke out above the crowd and I hear breathless huffs as shoes smack against the tiled floors, thumping like heartbeats. “Alex!”

“John?” I say, standing up with Seabury at my side.

“Hey,” Laurens says, breathlessly. “I saw you come in and I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

I pat his cheek affectionately, humming. “Hm. You’re sweet, Jack. I’m fine, thank you.”

His snarky grin falters as I brush past his shoulder toward the entranceway to the gymnasium. Laurens quickly spins around on his heel to chase me. Before I could actually get any further, however, he places a hand on my shoulder, yanking me. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“Woah! Woah! You okay, Alex?” Laurens asks. “I didn’t do anything to upset you, did I? You sounded annoyed…”

“I’m fine, John,” I say. “Really. Now come on. Let’s go. Or we’ll be late.”

The two glance at each other worriedly, shrugging their shoulders before following me nonetheless. I suddenly feel a chill go down my spine as the last of the students follow in, letting the metal door slam shut.

I’m so going to regret this.

Chapter Text

“ALRIGHT, CUPCAKES!” THE coach bellows as he paces back and forth in front of us. He’s a rather…large man in his mid-forties with dark brunette brown hair swept to the side and piercing emerald eyes and who has a rather…large protruding stomach eyes us wearily. We’re all lined up on the benches in the gymnasium. I’m squished between Laurens and Eliza. I’m hunched over a little as I rest my forearms on my thighs, interlacing my fingers together.

“There’s a new kid on the field today!” the coach booms. I swallow as he mentions me, keeping my eyes trained on him. “I want you to treat him with respect just like the rest of you treat each other with respect. We’re all humans, we don’t need to be treated like animals just because someone’s not up your ally. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” the students, except me, responds. I’m surprised by the fact that they actually salute him.

“Hamilton!” the coach chirps, holding out a clipboard and yanking a pen from the top of the clipboard and click it open as he jots something down on the paper. “Come on up, kid!”

I freeze when I hear my last name, my eyes widening as I bite my lip. I clench the edges of the benches tightly, so tight my knuckles turn white. I glance over at Laurens, who smiles softly as he nods encouragingly. I turn back to the coach just in time for his eyes to lock on mine when he looks up from the clipboard.

Digging my teeth into my bottom lip, I swallow the lump down my throat and exhale a shaky breath before finally gathering the courage and push myself up off the bench. I can feel all the student’s eyes trained on me with curiosity as I keep my head down, my back facing them, and made my way toward the coach. I stand side-by-side next to the coach, my head still down and I try not to grimace as he claps a hand on my shoulder, nearly causing me to tumble over slightly.

“Kids? This is your new classmate, Alexander,” the coach says. I still don’t look up. “I want you to treat him with the same respect you treat each other, got it? So, Hamilton.” I can feel his eyes burn into me as he turns to face me. “We go by last name basis here. So, I’ll just call you Hamilton is that alright?”

I nod, my teeth digging into my lower lip harder. “Mhm. Yes, sir.”

I can feel him smirking as he pats my shoulder. “Good. My name is Coach Adams. I will be your coach for the rest of the semester. Why don’t you introduce yourself to the rest, hm?”

I clear my throat, finally looking up at the students before me who are all gawking at me with wide-eyes. I find Laurens’s piercing sky-blue ones among the crowd. He smiles a little, his arms folded over his chest as he nods his head.

“Um…okay,” I say, not taking my eyes off of Laurens’s. It almost feels like we’re having a staring contest. I swallow again before clearing my throat, licking my dry, chapped lips. “Um…as Coach said, my name is Alexander Hamilton. Um…but you all can call me Alex if you wish. Uh…I come from Nevis and St. Croix in the British West Indies in the Caribbean, which by the way, isn’t as pretty as you think it is. Um…I can speak two languages fluently: English, of course, and French. Um…I don’t like to talk about my past that much but I can tell you that I didn’t have a pretty childhood growing up. Um…let’s see…I love to write and well…that’s er…pretty much it.”

“Alright,” Coach says, turning to face the students. Laurens’s nods proudly at me. I feel myself smiling softly up at him. “Any questions for Mr. Hamilton?”

A student raises her hand.

“Yes,” Coach says, arching an eyebrow.

“Did you have any siblings?” the girl who had her hand up wonders.

I freeze, my shoulders tense up to my ears, and for a moment all I see is James underneath the tree. I blink my eyes, letting out a quavering breath before clearing my throat again.

I nod.

“Yes,” I say, my voice croaky slightly with emotion. “An older brother…”

“What was his name?” the girl asks.

“James,” I say. “His name was James…”

I feel myself wrapping my thin arms around me, feeling myself shrinking as I stare at my shoes, chewing on my lip.

“Was?” Another kid pipes up. “What happened to him?”

I feel my eyes grow wide. There’s no point in lying to them, no point in hiding. They’ll find out eventually.

“He…” I start. “He died.”

Silence. I feel the Coach squeeze my shoulder comfortingly.

“Kid,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry…”

I shrug. “It’s alright. I’m…I’m fine. Really.” I look back up at the row of students before me, and smile softly at their apologetic looks. Even The Big Three looks a little apologetic. I clear my throat as I continue. “When I was fourteen, a hurricane came…and…it destroyed everything. It was a small one but…still. It…it destroyed everything I knew and loved…destroyed buildings and homes, killed people. It killed my brother…”

Silence.

“So, yeah…” is all I say.

I wait for the Coach to say something or any more questions but no one dares to speak. Quickly, I rush back to my seat on the bench between Eliza and Laurens. When I sit down, I let out a shaky breath. I feel Eliza’s hand on my forearm.

“You alright?” Eliza asks quietly.

I nod, smiling softly at her. “Yeah. It felt good to get it off my chest, plus, I feel like you all should know…”

“Oh. Thank you for trusting us with that, Alex,” she says. “You’re brave.”

I flash her a soft smile before turning my attention back to the Coach. I can feel Eliza still staring at me, though in my peripheral, she looks dreamy at me. I couldn’t help but wink at her, which immediately made her cheeks go a bright shade of pink. She bites her lip and quickly looks away with Peggy teasing her older sister all the way. Laurens chuckles beside me as he watches the two siblings argue quietly with each other, Eliza blushing madly as she swats her hand against Peggy’s arm, who bursts out laughing. “I think she likes you, Alex,” Laurens whispers as Coach Adams explains the rules of dodgeball with a red ball clutched in his hands.

I scoff, folding my arms over my chest as I try not to stare into Laurens’s blue eyes again and try to pay attention to the Coach. I raise an eyebrow as I glance over at Laurens. “Like me?” I scoff. “We only met for a day! How can she possibly already like me?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know but still. Eliza’s a sweet girl. Kind. I think you should give her a chance when you’re ready.”

I look back over at Eliza, who only for a split second meets my violet eyes and quickly turns back around to face Peggy again, her face still tomato red. I feel myself smile softly at her before turning my attention back toward the Coach.

“Maybe…” I mumble.

“Alright, Cupcakes!” the Coach bellows again as he sets his clipboard down on a chair and grabs a red ball in his hands, turning to face us. “So, today’s game…” He has a smirk on his face and it suddenly dawned upon me that I don’t like that smirk. “Dodgeball.”

My eyes widen as I feel the blood drain from my face, making my skin look ghostly white. Yep. I’m going to regret this.

“Alright, for those of you who need a recap, we arrange one or more balls in the center of the court,” the Coach says, gesturing to the wide court before us. He paces back and forth before us. “We set a timer for ten minutes then we rush to the balls in the center of the court when play begins. Try to dodge balls that your opponents throw at you. The objective of the game, obviously, is to illuminate all members of the opposing team by hitting them with the balls, catching a ball thrown by the other team, or inducing an opponent to commit to violation, via stepping outside of the court. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” We all chorused.

“Alright. Let’s get down to business!” the Coach exclaims, clapping his hands together to get our full attention. “We need team captains.” A pause. When the Coach’s beady, hawklike eyes land on mine, I feel myself stiffen. I feel my breath getting caught in my throat. He grins, though. “Hamilton.”

I can feel Jefferson’s scowl as I hesitantly push myself up off the bench and stand on the left side of Coach Adams. I chew on my lower lip as I keep my wide eyed trained on the floor, staring at my shoes while fiddling with my nimble fingers.

“Jefferson!” the Coach snaps.

I can feel myself go pale as I look up to see Jefferson with a sly grin on his face as he walks down the aisle of the benches, locking his hazel eyes with mine. I swallow the lump in my throat as I let out a shaky breath. He stands on the right side of Coach.

“Now,” the Coach says. “You two will need to pick your teammates. Jefferson?”

“Lee,” Jefferson calls almost automatically. His voice flat like a robot’s.

Lee smirks as he makes his way towards us, high-fiving each other. I feel the Coach’s eyes on me. I guess it’s my turn now.

“Laurens,” I say without hesitation.

Laurens smirks at me as he stands up from the bench, marching his way over toward me.

“Madison,” Jefferson sneers.

I watch as the Pot Belly kid from The Big Three wobbles down the steps between the benches, folding his buff arms over his chest as he glares directly at me. I swallow, turning to face the line of students again.

“Eliza,” I blurt out.

Her face goes from ghostly pale to bright red. She digs her teeth into her lip and her chocolate eyes widen. I couldn’t help but beam at her, nodding. She turns to her sisters and immediately, they’re shooing her away. Jefferson calls his next teammate once Eliza’s up next to me.

“Burr.”

A teenage boy with pale skin and silky raven black hair smoothed back like a tidal wave and beady black eyes smirks slightly as he makes his way towards Jefferson’s group.

“Angelica.”

“Harrison.”

“Peggy.”

Of course, I had to include all three sisters.

Peggy beams with relief as she climbs her way down between the steps and towards my group. She stands next to Angelica, glancing over nervously at Jefferson.

“McHenry.”

“What are the other ones?” I whisper to Laurens.

“Well,” Laurens whispers, his southern accent rolling off his tongue quickly before he could stop it. “There’s Tilghman, Seabury, Fredrick George—who is mostly known as ‘King’ here in King’s High—Meade, Reed, and many more. But we only have like five people left on the benches, though.”

I nod. “Thank you, John.”

He nods as he steps back, letting me take the lead. I turn back toward the students on the benches.

“Tilghman!” I call out sharply, almost like a soldier.

He grins as he stands up. He’s almost as tall as Laurens, with dark brown wavy, short-cropped hair smoothed to the side and emerald green eyes that twinkle against the fluorescent lights above us. He’s quite muscular too, almost as muscular as Laurens. He must be one of the players on Laurens’s football team. He jogs down the steps, taking two at a time (Lucky bastard with those stupid long legs), and claps a hand on Laurens’s shoulder who nods in greeting and then turns to me, extending his hand out.

“Tench Tilghman,” he says with a smirk as he mocks a princely bow. “At your service, Mr. Hamilton.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” I say with a small smile, shaking his hand. “And please. Call me Alex.”

“King!” Jefferson calls out.

Another kid with short-cropped military styled blonde hair and pale, gray-blue colored eyes jogs down between the benches slows to a walk as he stands among Jefferson’s team. I turn back to the benches.

“Meade!” I cry.

Another kid with dark brown hair and golden hazel eyes jogs towards my group and claps a high five to Laurens and claps a hand on Tilghman’s shoulder. The boy turns to me.

“Richard Kidder Meade, a friend of Laurens,” he beams. “A pleasure to meet you, Hamilton.” He pauses, his bright smile fading into a small frown. “I…I’m sorry about your brother.”

I try not to grimace as I flash him a non-convincing reassuring smile. “It’s alright. Thank you. And please, call me Alex. A pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Reed!” Jefferson calls.

I turn back toward the benches. Poor Seabury, he looks traumatized as he anxiously waits for someone to call him. His eyes flickers between Jefferson and I and he’s practically on edge of his seat, gripping it with both of his hands tightly while biting his lower lip. He swallows hard as his eyes land on mine and I smile compassionately at him.

“Seabury.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders slumping a little. He grins as he makes his way toward me, nodding in greeting at the others. My teammates and I turn to face Jefferson’s group. We stand a few inches away from each other, my arms folded over my chest as I narrow my eyes at Jefferson’s, who snarls at me with his arms folded over his chest as well, a scowl on his face. Laurens stands on my left, glaring at Lee while Tilghman stands on my right, staring King down. I feel slightly self-conscious since both boys beside me are at least a foot or so taller than me.

In fact, almost everybody on my team is.

The Coach stands on the far end of the two rows of students. He glances nervously between us, suddenly realizing that this might not be a good idea after all and suddenly regretting his decision on dodgeball. But nonetheless, he clears his throat to get our attention which sure does the job. In unison, all students’ heads whips over their shoulders toward the Coach’s. Coach swallows before clears his throat, biting his lower lip a little.

“Alright,” Coach says shakily. “Hamilton and Jefferson are team captains. You follow their orders. Hamilton?”

I look up when he addresses my name, arching my eyebrow.

“You take this side of the court,” he orders. He points toward the left side of the court. He turns toward Jefferson. “Jefferson? You take the right. I will place three balls in the middle of the court like I’d explained.”

I watch as Coach Adams walks rather stiffly, almost tense, as he places the first ball in the middle. He quickly rushes towards his office to grab two more red balls and place them on either side of the center one. The wheels in my brain are already turning as I try to come up with a plan of attack.

“Alright,” Coach Adams says as he steps away from the three balls and outside of the court. He pulls out a stopwatch from his breast pocket. I can hear the beeps as he sets the timer. “I’ll set the timer for ten minutes…”

I hear another beep.

“And go!”

On an instant, I run toward the center of the court to reach for the middle ball as soon as Jefferson does. I grin, my freckled dotted cheeks warming up with triumph as I clutch the ball close to my chest. Jefferson growls with frustration as he reaches toward the next ball. I swallow the lump in my throat, jogging towards the right side of the court, maneuvering past Meade and Tilghman and in between them, I reel my arm backwards and toss the ball across the court with all my strength. I curse under my breath when I see the ball bounce away from Jefferson. Jefferson grins as he takes this opportunity to hit me, reeling his arm back and throwing the ball towards me with all his force. Luckily, I dodge the ball by ducking my head quickly, almost instinctively, with my arms up above my head as my sneakers squeak against the polished, wooden floor.

I hear Jefferson curse aloud, for everyone to hear.

“Jefferson! Language!” the Coach bellows from the benches.

Jefferson ignores him.

In my peripheral, I see Eliza sprint up towards the line of balls in the middle of the court. She grabs one and tosses it across the court at Reed. It hits him directly on his side as he failed to dodge it. He curses silently to himself. Eliza squeals with triumph, high-fiving her sisters. I grin at her.

That’s my Betsey, I think. I freeze momentarily, eyes widen as I realized what I just said. My Betsey?

“Alex!” I hear Laurens cry out.

I spin around on my heels, eyes wide with a look of alarm on my face. My blood pumps through me, heart pumping with adrenaline and excitement. Laurens flashes a toothy grin as he tosses me a red ball. I catch it as soon as it hits my chest, grunting. I nod my thanks at him and he nods his “Your welcome” back at me as he sprints down the other side of the court next to Seabury who fidgets, chewing on his lower lip and looking at the opposing team with wide eyes.

I narrow my eyes at Jefferson as he maneuvers through his teammates, grinning evilly at me, taunting me. I snarl with clenched teeth like a dog as I keep my eyes trained on Jefferson. He still taunts me, mocking me and teasing me, doing anything that will get me upset or angry so I’m caught off-guard. But I won’t let my guard down. With all my strength, I toss the ball toward Jefferson. I let out a sharp gasp as I stumble backwards, tripping over my shoelaces as I stare wide-eyed as the ball spins and spins through the air, making its way toward Jefferson. I suck in a huge gulp of air, holding it with anticipation and dread. Will it him and get him out or will it miss him? I squeeze my eyes shut, glancing over my shoulder.

“This isn’t over, Hamilton!” I hear Jefferson sneer.

I open my eyes, glancing around to find that Jefferson’s on the floor, glaring daggers at me with a rather frightening scowl on his face as the ball rolls off his chest, down his lap, and off to the side. I grin, hopping up and down and pumping my fists in the air. Laurens rushes towards me with a loopy grin on his face and barrels right into me. I yelp with surprise as I rest my hands on his shoulders while he wraps his strong, muscular arms around me, lifting me up and spinning me around. He sets me down gently, his face turning bright red with embarrassment. I smile fondly at him, my small hands still on his shoulders as he embraces me, ruffling my auburn hair and congratulating me.

“I did it!” I shriek with laughter as the rest of the team comes to surround us, congratulating me as well. Laurens only laughs as I bounce up and down excitedly. “I did it! John, I did it! Oh my God!”

Laurens nods, embracing me tightly again. “I’m so proud of you, Alex!”

“I can’t believe I did it!” I gasp. “I can’t believe it!”

After a while, the game starts to die down. The students, including myself, are drenched with sweat and puffing, breathless as we make our way toward the benches to take a break. I reach for my water bottle, beaming with triumph and the tips of my ears warms with victory.

The bell rings, indicating class is over. In conclusion, our team won, with me in the lead. Throughout the end of class, I couldn’t help but smile widely.

I’m in the locker room now, standing in between a locker and a bench with my bag on the bench. I tie my russet curls into a loose, messy low bun, letting a few bangs dangle in front of my ears and eyes. I unzip the bag and pull out my school clothes, prepping myself to get changed into them when I feel a soft tap on my shoulder blade. Instinctively, I yelp with surprise and swing my arm back, spinning around on my heels. I’m about to throw a punch when my violet eyes land on…

“Gil?” I say.

“Hey there, little brother,” Lafayette says with a smirk as he ruffles my russet curls.

I swat his hand away but in a playful gesture as I turn around to finish unpacking my school clothes from the bag.

“What are you doing here, Gil? Shouldn’t you be out shopping with Martha?” I say, glancing at him over my shoulder with an arched eyebrow. “Not that I don’t mind you being here, of course.”

I slip off my gym shirt to reveal my flat torso and slide on my forest green turtleneck shirt I was wearing before.

Lafayette shrugs. “Heh. School is almost over anyways so since I was already out and about, I thought I’d do George a favor and take you home myself. And Principle Schuyler said I could hang around here for a little bit.”

“Hm, makes sense,” I say.

I slide off my shorts to pull on my jeans again and watch Lafayette plop himself down on the wooden bench next to me.

“So,” Lafayette hums. “Talk to me, lil’ bro. How’s school?”

I shrug. “Eh. It was alright. Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

He pats my shoulder before ruffling my russet curls affectionately. “See. Told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Um…Gil?” I say, a smile pressed against my lips. “I think it’s the other way around…”

He arches an eyebrow as he glances at me over his shoulder. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I think it was me who told you it wouldn’t be so bad…”

My brother blinks at me several times with a confused look on his face before he suddenly remembers and nods his head. “Oh. You’re right.”

A pause.

“So. Have you met any new friends?”

I sit myself down on the bench next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder. I look up at the ceiling in the locker room, almost dreamily, a lopsided grin on my freckled face. I shrug again.

“Yeah,” I say, looking up at Lafayette’s eyes. “I have, actually. I think, anyways. I mean, I think this one girl likes me…”

I suddenly wished I hadn’t said anything about Eliza liking me because Lafayette arches both eyebrows this time, a teasing smirk on his face as he nudges his elbow into my ribs.

“A girl, eh…?” Lafayette teases, his thick French accent rolling off his tongue. “Is she pretty?”

“Well, of course she is,” I say. “She’s…sweet and kind and smart. She’s…adorable. She’s sweet as a cinnamon roll.”

Lafayette’s teasing grin grows wider as I describe Eliza to him. I feel my freckled cheeks go warm.

“Ooh! Someone’s got a crush!” Lafayette squeals, nudging his elbow into my ribs again.

“What?” I stutter. “No! No, I don’t! I don’t, Gil! We’ve only known each other only for a day! How can she possibly like me? She doesn’t know anything about me except for the fact that I was impoverished growing up nor do I know anything about her! So, would you calm down?!”

Lafayette just snickers, trying to stifle it with the back of his hand but failing. I slap his forearm playfully.

“Alright, alright!” Lafayette says, tossing both hands up in the air. “I’ll stop!”

He slings his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him. I find the corners of my lips turning upward slightly as I lean my head onto his shoulder. After a few moments of silence, I hear the bell ring uncomfortably loud. I look up instinctively to find the source of the sound and turn to Lafayette. He looks down at me, that teasing grin still on his face.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

We both get up in an instant. Through the sea of students that are piling through the entranceway to the locker room, I glance over my shoulder. I find Laurens in the back of the crowd. There’s no mistake in finding him. He’s pretty obvious to find because well, he’s a head taller than everyone else in the group and because of his light blonde hair. His bright crystal blue eyes land on mine and he smiles softly, waving at me.

For once, I actually smile. I smile a true smile as I wave back at him before turning around to face the front.

Then, I leave the locker room and towards home.

Chapter Text

LAFAYETTE AND I stand in George’s classroom as we wait for George to come back from a teacher’s meeting. Lafayette insisted on making sure George knew where we were so he wouldn’t panic while I argued that we really didn’t. So, now we stand in front of his empty desk, his desk chair pulled back slightly with papers scattered over the wooden desk along with pens and highlighters and Sharpies. I see a framed photograph of the four of us next to his computer. A family portrait of the Washington family. Martha on the right side of George with her head on his shoulder and a small, gentle smile on her face. George on her left, with an arm around her waist, his cheek on top of her head. Fourteen-year-old me stands in front of Martha with a smile on my face and my arms behind my back, my chest puffed out as Martha has her hand on my shoulder and sixteen-year-old Lafayette standing in front of George with his arms clasped behind his back as well while George has his hand on Lafayette’s shoulder. I smile a little at the framed portrait of us all together.

I hear a soft, tender knock on the wooden door. I whip my head around over my shoulder and so does Lafayette as we watch the door swing open, hoping it’s George himself but only to find…Laurens? In the doorway. He holds a white sheet of copy paper in his hands as he pokes his head through the cracked doorframe. I arch an eyebrow with surprise.

“Oh! Alex!” Laurens says with a small smile on his face as he fully steps into view, his paper still clutched in his hand, his bag slung across his back. “Hey!”

“Hi,” I say as he walks into the room. He stands a few inches away from Lafayette, who narrows his eyes at Laurens, a slight twisted scowl on his face as he slings his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder protectively. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes at my brother.

“What are you doing here?” Laurens wonders, tilting his head a little.

“Oh, we just wanted to let George know where we were heading off too,” I explain. “Even though we didn’t because school’s over and he knows students are leaving already. But this one insisted.” I jab my thumb at Lafayette.

Laurens looks to my left to find Gilbert de Lafayette standing before him. His eyes widen slightly as they meet my brother’s. Laurens smiles hesitantly, almost nervously as he clears his throat and extends his hand out while he clutches the paper under his arm. “

You must be Lafayette,” he says. “John Laurens. I’m a friend of Alex’s. A pleasure to meet you.”

Lafayette eyes Laurens warily, and makes a gruntled noise as he shakes Laurens’s hand. Laurens winces slightly but his tense expression on his face relaxes when Lafayette’s grip on his hand releases.

“Yes,” Lafayette says with a nod. “I am Lafayette. Alex’s older brother. A pleasure to meet you as well, Laurens. And please, call me Gil or Laf.”

“Right,” Laurens agrees. “Then call me John.”

“So,” I say, interrupting the conversation as I clear my throat. I turn my attention from my brother to my friend. “What are you doing here, John? Shouldn’t you be on the bus or something?”

He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, that um…well…I wanted to see if Mr. Washington was here. I keep forgetting to turn in my English essay so I might as well turn it in now before I forget about it again.” Laurens pauses as he scans the empty classroom for George before his blue eyes land on my violet ones again. “Um…where is Mr. Washington by the way?”

“He’s at a teacher conference meeting thing,” I answer, folding my arms over my chest. “He should be back in a few minutes.”

Laurens nods. “Oh.”

Another round of silence.

“So, Laurens,” Lafayette says, narrowing his eyes at Laurens. I shoot him a warning glare, slapping my brother on his arm gently. I stand on my toes slightly as I grip his shoulder to keep my balance and whisper into Lafayette’s ear: “Be nice.” Lafayette grumbles under his breath with a roll of his eyes as I lower myself onto the ground, “Yeah, yeah.” before continuing.

A bit louder, Lafayette says, “So, Laurens. Tell me about yourself. How’d you meet my brother?”

“Um…well,” Laurens says, his southern accent thickening. “I’m from Charleston, South Carolina. I moved here to New York a few years ago, at the start of nineth grade to be exact after my father…” He pauses as a painful memory fills his mind before clearing his throat and continuing. “Anyways. Uh…yeah. I moved here and stayed in an apartment and have been going to this high school since freshman year. Uh…I love drawing and turtles—I know weird—um…I’m the quarterback on the school’s football team and I met Alex by helping him unlock his locker.”

“Hm,” Lafayette says. “Anything else I should know?”

“Gilbert—” I begin to protest, but Laurens cuts me off.

“Oh, uh…well I want to study in Marine Biology when I get to college after graduating from this hellhole—” I snicker slightly at that. “And um…perhaps join the military. I mean, my whole family was military so it’d only make sense if I was too.”

Lafayette nods approvingly, a warm smile on his face. I let out a sigh of relief, my shoulders slumped.

“You seem like a good man, Laurens,” Lafayette says. “You’ve been keeping an eye on my brother?”

“Oh, yeah,” Laurens says, looking down into my eyes. “He’s not bad. Good kid.”

I shoot him a look of annoyance.

Lafayette nods. “Good.”

“Boys?” a southern voice says from behind Laurens. “What are you three doing here?”

I look up to find George standing in the wide open doorway with a confused expression on his face, his brows knitted together as he frowns, his gray-blue eyes narrowed down at us. George closes his classroom door behind him and makes his way towards his desk. He shuffles a few sheets of paper against his thighs as he plops himself down in his desk chair, pulling it up to the desk itself.

“Oh,” Laurens says, turning towards George, who looks at him like he’s stupid. “Um…hey, Mr. Washington. I uh…just wanted to drop off the essay before I forget about it again.”

George smiles brightly at his student before taking the paper and placing it on top of a stack of papers on the edge of his desk. He laughs silently to himself as he nods.

“Thank you, Mr. Laurens,” George laughs as Laurens walks out of the classroom with a nod.

“You’re welcome sir,” Laurens says, giving him a fake salute. “Have a good evening.”

“You too,” George says as Laurens shuts the door behind him. George then turns his attention towards Lafayette and I. “Now. What are you two doing here? It’s after school hours. Unless, Alexander, you have some kind of after school activity like baseball I didn’t know about.”

I shake my head. “No, Dad. Gil insisted on letting you know that he was taking me home when I tried to assure him he didn’t have to. But like I said, he insisted.”

“Right, of course,” George chuckles, shaking his head at the two of us fondly. “Thank you, Gilbert. You didn’t have to do this. You could have just given me a text or leave me a message.”

“Told you,” I whisper into my brother’s ear, my hand on my shoulder as I stand on my toes a little. Lafayette shoots me a hard glare and whacks me against the back of my head with the back of his palm, folding his arms over his chest and sticking his tongue out at me.

“Ow!” I mutter, rubbing the back of my head in small circles soothingly.

“Well,” Lafayette says, turning his attention toward George. “We should get going. Wouldn’t want to worry Martha.”

“Right, right,” George agrees with a nod. “Let her know I’ll be home around five or so. I have some papers to finish grading…”

“Okay, Dad,” I say as I follow Lafayette to the classroom door.

“Love you boys,” George says.

“Love you too,” Lafayette and I both say simultaneously as soon as the door clicks shut behind us.

***

“Do you have any homework?” Lafayette asks as we’re driving down the crowded interstate of Manhattan, New York City. Cars blur around us as we continue straight ahead. I sit in the passenger seat of his blue Honda SUV with my arms crossed over my chest, gazing out the passenger side window. I can see my reflection in the glass window, but faintly.

I don’t turn around to face him when I answer, “Only on a few subjects. Nothing much.”

“Yeah,” Lafayette agrees, nodding his head. “First comers normally don’t get a lot of assignments. But once you get used to the school, then it’ll just pile up and pile up.” Silence fills the car.

“Do you have to go to college, Gil?” I whimper, glancing at him over my left shoulder with a slight pout on my face.

“Oh,” Lafayette laughs, his hazel eyes flickering over to me before turning their attention back to the road. “So, now you don’t want me to go?”

“I’m just saying,” I say remorsefully. “I mean…we’re always together. We’ve never been separated from each other before…”

He sighs lightly through his nose, gripping the steering wheel a bit tightly. “I know but I have to go, Alex. It’s part of the education journey!”

Lafayette frowns when sees my forlorn expression on my face as I turn my head around to face the passenger window again, resting my crossed forearms on the windowsill.

“Look,” he sighs, running a hand through his ginger-colored hair. “I know you don’t want me to go. I don’t want to go either—”

“Then stay!” I say, whipping my head over my shoulder again, my voice cracking slightly. “Stay Gil and go to a different college here in New York! In home!”

“Alexander,” Lafayette says with a hint of sadness and guilt in his voice as we slow to a red light. He turns to me slightly, resting a hand on my shoulder. “France is my home. I know you’re scared—”

“It’s not that I’m scared, Laf!” I argue. “I’m downright terrified! Okay? It always happens to me…” I mumble the last part under my breath.

“What do you mean, Alex?” Lafayette says after a moment of silence.

I heave a heavy sigh through my nose as I stare at my lap. “Everyone I love leaves me.” A pause. “My father, my mother, my brother, my cousin, and now you!” I turn to look into his eyes. They’re facing the road now as we’re moving again. “I just…I don’t know…”

“Alex,” he says finally. “It’s normal to feel those things. You have every right to feel the way that you are right now. But you have to listen to me, okay? Just hear me out. And that would be enough.”

Another pause.

“I have to go to college, Alex. I have to get this degree and pursue my dreams as an actor.” Another pause. I can feel Lafayette’s eyes burning into me as he says, “You know, I love you, right, Alex?”

I press my lips together as we make a left turn and nod. But I don’t respond to him. I just gaze out the window with a pained look on my face.

“We’re Washington’s,” Lafayette says. This catches my attention and I turn to look at him with a confused look. “We’re brothers. Biological or not. We’re Washington’s. And us Washington’s always stick together. No matter how far apart we may be.” Lafayette smiles softly as he turns to face me. “I won’t be gone forever, Alex. You know I’ll come back home for the holidays. We’ll even FaceTime when I land.”

He reaches over and ruffles my russet colored hair playfully. I force a smile to appear on my face.

“You have to be brave, though, Alexander. You have to be our Little Lion. Our mon petite lion.”

Lafayette turns back to the front with a satisfied smirk on his face.

***
“Mom!” Lafayette calls as he unlocks the front door to our small apartment. “Alex and I are home!”

“I’m in the office, honey!” I hear Martha’s distant voice echoes from up at the top of the stairs.

I follow after Lafayette into the apartment, closing the door behind me as I enter the living room. I kick off my shoes and shrug off my bookbag, letting it flop down onto the couch lazily. I dust off my hands onto my jeans and climb up the stairs after Lafayette. I follow my brother into Martha’s study.

As expected, Martha sits at a desk with a computer in front of her, her fingers clicking away on the keyboard as she types rapidly. She adjusts her rectangular glasses slightly, then sniffs, then goes back to typing. She glances up past her computer as the two of us walk in her study, with me closing the door.

“Oh. Hello, boys,” Martha says, pausing her typing for only a second as she swivels around in her chair to stand up and embrace us. We each wrap our arms around her as best we can before pulling away. She beams at us, pressing a quick peck on our cheeks before turning her eyes on me.

Lafayette sits down in one of the chairs in front of her desk while Martha grabs both of my hands in hers, guiding me towards the desk with a beaming smile on her face, her eyes wide with curiosity and eagerness. She sits herself down in the chair at her desk, her hands still clutched with mine, leaning forward slightly and looks me dead in the eye.

“So, Alexander!” she chirps. “Tell me everything! I want to know all about it!””

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her excitement, chuckling softly to myself as I shake my head. “Mom, I’m not five.”

“I don’t care,” she snaps, jabbing her finger at me. “I want to know everything that happened. So, tell me, Alexander, dear, how was your first day?”

I tell her how I befriend Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy. I tell her about Principal Schuyler and about Laurens. I tell her about The Big Three, which made Lafayette grimace and shudder though I ignore that. What I didn’t tell her, though, is how I punched the living daylights out of Jefferson, so hard that he can barely move his limbs. I tell her about my classes and my teachers. I tell her about dodgeball in gym today and how I was team captain and how my team won.

“Oh, Alexander!” Martha gushes, pride in her voice. I feel myself smiling sheepishly a little, wrapping my thin arms around myself and shrinking a little in my seat. I feel my freckled cheeks grow warm. “I’m so proud of you! Look at you! First day and you’ve already made, what? Four friends?”

I nod. “Yeah. Crazy, right?”

Lafayette grins proudly, wrapping his arm around me. “I’m so proud of you too, mon ami. You’ll do great this semester.”

He ruffles my russet colored hair teasingly. I shoot him a hard glare, swatting his hand off of me, sticking my tongue out at him. Smirking teasingly, Lafayette sticks his own tongue out at me in return. I roll my eyes, a smirk on my face.

Martha laughs softly, shaking her head at our childish behavior.

“Well,” Martha says. “Do you have any homework assignments to complete, Alex?”

I nod. “Only a few, like maybe three at the latest. But other than that, no.”

“Okay. Well we have to drop Gil off at the airport around three in the morning tomorrow.”

Lafayette’s smile fades when Martha mentions about his departure to France. He glances toward me over his shoulder, a look of apology and sympathy in his eyes. No, make that pity. A look of pity forms on his face when he sees my forlorn expression. I glance down toward my lap, biting the corner of my bottom lip as I fiddle with my fingers absentmindedly, a lock of auburn curl falls in front of my eye and I let it hang there and dangle before me. For only a split second, my violet eyes flicker over toward Lafayette’s before turning back towards my clasped hands in my lap.

Martha notices the tension between us brothers and sighs.

“Alex, honey, what’s wrong?” Martha asks sweetly.

“It’s nothing, Mom,” I say. I look up into her eyes and flash her an unconvincing reassuring smile. “I…I’m fine.” I try not to show any emotion in my voice, I try to keep a calm, straight face. I can’t breakdown. Not in front of her or Lafayette. I can’t.

I have to be their Little Lion.

“I don’t want to push you, Alex, but something is bothering you…” Martha pauses, glancing between Lafayette and I and back again. She locks her eyes with mine. “It’s about Gilbert, is it?”

I look away from her penetrating gaze and glance over my shoulder, nodding somberly, my eyes downcast. A frown on my face.

“Gilbert?” Martha says, her eyes still trained on me. “Could you give Alexander and I a few minutes?”

Lafayette nods. “Of course, Mom. I’ll be in my room, packing for tomorrow.”

I hear his chair squeaking back as he stands up. Lafayette presses a soft, brotherly kiss to my head before squeezing my shoulder and leaving the room. The door clicks shut behind him softly.

For a few moments, there’s nothing but silence between Martha and I. Martha just stares at me like I’m some exotic zoo animal while I stare with a blank look at my hands. I swallow the lump of tears that threatens to pour down my cheeks down my throat.

“Alex…” Martha begins but I cut her off.

“Don’t, Mom,” I say, not meeting her eyes. “Don’t, okay? I’m fine.”

“Alex, you’re not fine,” she says sternly. “You’re upset.”

“Well, duh!” I snap, whipping my head up to meet her gaze. My eyes mixed with a lot of emotions such as anger and grief. My voice cracks and I try not to grimace. “You think?”

“Alex—”

I shake my head sharply, desperately trying to fight off tears. “No. You don’t get it, Mom! You don’t! Don’t say you do.”

A pause.

“Everyone I love leaves me,” I whimper, resting my heels on the edge of my chair, my knees up to my chest and my chin resting behind my kneecaps with my small arms around my knees. To her, I must look small and fragile. I feel small and fragile. I feel breakable. I’m not their Little Lion. My eyes flicker from hers to my knees. “My father, my mother, my brother, my cousin and now…” My voice chokes up and I wince.

“Alexander,” Martha says gently, calmly. Her eyes are soft and a small smile creeps up on her face. “Gilbert isn’t going to leave you. He’ll come back for the holidays!”

“You don’t know that,” I snap. “You don’t know that, Mom! What if something happens to him on the plane? What if…” I swallow hard, blinking rapidly as I let out a shaky breath. “What if the plane crashes and he…”

Silence.

I stand up from the chair abruptly, causing her to look up with confusion written over her face. I wipe my eyes with the heel of my palm, sniffling as I turn to face her over my shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Mom,” I say. “Maybe later, but not right now. I-I’ll be doing homework.”

Before she could say another word, I walk right out of her study, letting the door shut behind me. I swallow again, hard so hard my throat burns as I make my way towards my bedroom down the hall. Clamping a hand over my mouth to stifle a choked sob, I swing my bedroom door open and storm on inside, slamming the door shut behind me. I have my back pressed against the wooden door behind me, my hand still clamped over my mouth to stifle the sobs that finally escape me. The fear of the plane crashing and Lafayette’s death squeezes my chest and makes it even harder for me to breathe. I feel hot tears roll down my cheeks as I imagine his death, the plane crashed in like a forest or something and engulfed with bright, orange flames. I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel myself slide down my bedroom door. I shake my head, mumbling “No” over and over again shakily.

No.

No.

That won’t happen. I can’t let that fear control me. Plus, the chances of the plane crashing are very slim. Plane crashes are much rarer than cars. So I’m told, anyways. I’m sure Lafayette will be fine. Yeah. He will be fine.

Feeling slightly reassured, I sniff and lift my head up from my hands and wipe the stained tears off my cheeks with the heel of my palm. I stay like this for a few minutes, my back pressed against the door with my arms around my knees and my chin on top of my knees, staring out the window above my desk. Martha’s right, of course. And Lafayette. He’ll be back in time for the holidays. He won’t be gone forever or abandon me like my father did. He’ll come back. He has too.

With that on my mind, I push myself up off the ground, dusting my jeans with my palms. I walk slowly, taking my time, to my desk. I pull out the chair and sit myself down. I lift the laptop’s lid and turn on my computer. I pull out my phone from my pocket to check any unread messages or notifications while my computer wakes. I smile fondly when I see a text from Eliza.

Eliza: Hey. It’s me, Eliza. I just wanted to make sure you got home alright.

Me: Hey, Eliza. Yeah, I did. My adoptive older brother, Lafayette, took me home. What about you? Did you and your sisters arrive home safely?

As soon as the screen to my computer is up and as soon as I set my phone down, I hear a soft ping from my phone. I let out a laugh as I grab it to read the text message before replying.

Eliza: Yeah, we did. Angelica drove us today. But we made it home alright. How’re you, Alex?

Me: I’m alright. Kind of worrying my mind off but other than that I’m okay. You?

Eliza: I’m alright, currently doing boring old homework. You’re lucky you get only like three assignments while the rest of us have like a thousand. Not to mention exams…

I can feel her shudder on the other line. I see the three dots inside the bubble, meaning she’s still typing out her message. Another whomp comes through as the message is sent to me. I look down at it and frown, instantly wishing I didn’t utter a word.

Eliza: What’s worrying you, Alex? You okay?

I pause, my thumbs just hovering over the little rectangular screen of my phone. I chew on the corner of my lip, hesitating if I should tell her. I mean, she’s my friend, right? She deserves to know. I heave a sigh through my nose and type:

Me: My brother, Lafayette, he’s…he’s leaving for college tomorrow. He has to take a plane to get to France and I’m just…anxious I’ll never get to see him again, you know? We’re close siblings, adopted or not, we’re super close. And well, besides school, I’ve never been truly separated from him and I’m just worried about the plane crashing and him not making it out of it alive. I know I probably sound stupid and being paranoid but it’s just... everyone I love leaves me.

I set my phone down, letting out a shuddering breath. To be fairly honest, it does make me feel better to talk about it. It feels as though a thousand pound semi-truck is suddenly lifted off of my chest and I can finally breathe again. I type in my password to my computer as I wait for her response.

I drum my fingers on the wooden edge of my desk, my violet eyes flickering from my computer to my phone, waiting for her response. As I type in my password to my laptop, I hear a soft ping coming from next to me. Quickly, my fingers scramble for the phone. I pick it up and read Eliza’s message, mouthing her words she sent me as I read:

Eliza: Oh, Alex. Relax! He’s not going to be gone forever! You know that! He’ll come back! He’s going to be back for the holidays, right? He won’t leave you, Alex. Plus, the chances of him getting into a plane crash is extremely rare. Car crashes happen more than planes. I’m sure he’ll be fine.

I heave a long sigh and look up through the window with my hands rested underneath my chin.

I do hope they’re right.

Chapter Text

SOMEONE SHAKES ME awake. I jolt up from the mountain of pillow that surrounds me, my heart pounding like a fist knocking on a door faster than a flash of lightning. My violet eyes fling wide open, jaw dropped slightly. I suck in huge gulps of air, my eyes flickering back and forth, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake and I think they’re calling my name but I can’t exactly be sure. Their voices sounded muffled and faint. Distant.

“Alexander!” the voice shouts. He sounds worried and slightly panicked. “Alexander! Mon petite lion! Hey, hey! Shh! Calm down! You’re okay! You’re okay, Alexandre!” My heart slowing down, and my breathing slowing down as well, I look to my right to find my brother Gilbert de Lafayette, standing next to me. Well, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed with a hand on my shoulder, but still. Worry fills his hazel brown eyes and now relief that I’m awake. I quickly look around my surroundings. I see my desk with my laptop lid up, the screen black. A coffee mug sits on the edge of the desk with papers scattered everywhere and pens and highlighters too. A pencil here and a textbook flipped open there. There’s my closet and my dresser with my pajama drawer still pulled out. A pair of clothes lays on the wooden floor and my bedroom door is closed. My lamp on my nightstand is on, despite the bright sunlight shining through my window. I have to wince against the bright sunrays shining through the blinds. I sniff and wipe my freckled cheeks with the heel of my palms. I look down and notice there are tears on my palm.

“Laf?” I say, wincing at how croaky I sound and weak I feel.

He nods, a relieved smile on his face. He slides his muscular arm around my small, delicate frame and pulls me close to him.

“Yes, mon ami. It’s me. I was beginning to fear that you might never wake,” Lafayette says.

I frown. “What…what happened?”

“You having a nightmare, mon petite lion. I woke up to you screaming and I entered your room to find you crying and tossing and turning. You look like someone tased you or electrocuted you. I tried to wake you but you wouldn’t and I was beginning to fear you might not.”

“Nightmare?” I groan, closing my eyes gently as I press a hand to my temple. I don’t remember ever having a nightmare.

“Oui,” Lafayette confirms. Nodding. He frowns. “Do you not remember what it was?”

I shake my head, blinking my eyes open as I stare at my fingers that’re in my lap. “No…I-I…What was I screaming about?”

Lafayette shrugs, his strong arm still around me. “I don’t know. Me, I think. I heard my name.”

“Oh,” I say. “I must have had a dream about you dying from a plane crash or something. That’s probably why I was screaming.”

Lafayette nods with agreement and then frowns again. “You alright, Alexandre?”

I nod, wrapping my thin arms around myself and drawing my knees up to my chest.

“Yeah,” I say. “Now that you’re here and I know you’re alive.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, ruffling my russet curls. Lafayette pushes some ruffled bangs out of my violet eyes and presses a soft kiss to my forehead before patting my shoulder and getting himself up of the bed.

“Well,” he says, “come on, now. Martha’s making breakfast and you have school. It’s Tuesday!”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I say.

Lafayette nods and presses another kiss to my forehead before exiting my bedroom door, letting it close shut behind him and leaving me alone in my empty, cold room. I sit on my bed, with my knees drawn up to my chest and my arms around them and my chin behind my kneecaps. I stare blankly at my dresser for a while until my phone buzzes next to me. Jolting out of my daze, I quickly reach for my phone. The number reads UNKNOWN and the caller wants to…FaceTime? I frown, hesitating for a moment before finally gathering my courage and pressing the “Accept” button. Well, rest in peace me!

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed!” teases the caller.

“Peggy!” I exclaim, my voice filling with excitement when I see my friend in front of me on my screen, a bright smile replacing my frown.

“Hey, Alex!” she says. “Eliza gave me your number. If you don’t mind, of course. I wanted to check on you.”

“Aww, thanks Pegs,” I say. “And I don’t mind at all. I actually just woke up.”

“Oh, shoot,” she gasps, her hazelnut brown orbs flying wide open. “Did I wake you? I’m so sorry, Alex—”

“Peggy, relax!” I laugh. “It’s fine. No, you didn’t wake me up. Lafayette did, actually.”

“Oh,” she says.

“So,” I say, flipping the bedsheets off of me. “What’s up? There has to be a reason as to why you called. I don’t mind, I was just curious is all.”

“I don’t know really,” she says with a giggle as I begin to make my bed. “I just felt lonely. I mean, Angie’s got her boyfriend over and Eliza’s being Eliza.”

“Boyfriend?” I say, smirking as I tuck the corners of the white bedsheets underneath the mattress. “Who’s her boyfriend?”

“Why do you want to know?” she demands, a playful smirk on her face.

I shrug. “Just curious.”

“His name is John Church. He’s British too.”

“Ooh, a Brit!” I say with a girly like giggle as I fluff the pillow. “What’s he like?”

“Why do you want to know, Lexi? You into guys or something? No hate, totally support ya if you are, just wonderin’.”

“W-What?!” I say, completely flustered. I glare at her small face on my phone. “No! No! I’m not! I was just…” I shrug. “Curious.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll send you a pic.”

I pause just at the foot of my bed, slowly turning around to face my phone that’s propped up against it’s pop socket on my nightstand. I open my mouth to say something but then the thought suddenly disappears and then returns again.

“You took a picture of Angelica’s boyfriend?” I say.

“No,” Peggy says. “Angelica made me take a picture of them before Church went back to London to visit his family for a few days and then came back to America. But I cropped out Angie so it’s only him.”

I head over to my closet and swing it open.

“Which color green should I wear today?” I ask Peggy as I rummage through the clothes in front of me, trying to pick out an outfit to wear for school.

I can feel Peggy’s frown behind me on my phone as she asks, “Didn’t you just wear green yesterday?”

“Maybe,” I say innocently. “But what’s the harm in wearing green again? It’s my favorite color! Got a problem with that?”

“Uh, no! No!” she says quickly. A pause. “Not at all, Alex.”

“Good.”

“So,” Peggy whistles. “What are the plans today?”

“Well,” I say. “I think we have to take Laf to the airport this morning so he can go to France for college and then after that school, school, school, homework, homework, homework, dinner and sleep and repeat.”

“Sounds…” I can feel her grin a little and wiggle her eyebrows as I rummage through the rack of green shirts in front of me. “Productive~”

“Ooh,” I say teasingly, looking back at her over my shoulder. “Look at you! Using big words! I like it!”

She snickers, swatting her hand at the camera as though she were slapping my forearm playfully. She rolls her eyes.

“So,” I say. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good,” she says. “You?”

“Same.”

“Alex! Petite lion! Come on! We got to get me to the airport and you have school!” Lafayette calls from downstairs. His voice slightly muffled to the closed bedroom door. “What’s taking you forever?”

“I’m coming, Laf!” I call back. I turn back to Peggy with an apologetic look on my face. “Sorry, Pegs. But I got to go. Laf’s being impatient.”

“No worries, Alex! Totally understand! I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. See you at school.”

I decide to go with a dark green long-sleeve turtleneck shirt with black denim jeans, the back of my turtleneck shirt tucked into my jeans while the front stays just where it is. I grab my hair brush off my dresser, detangling any knots from my unkept curls, wincing here and there as the bristles of the brush pulls on them. After a few minutes, I grab a fistful of red hair in my hand with my free hand loop the hair tie around it and pull it back into a somewhat neat ponytail but it’s also messy at the same time. I close my laptop and stuff it inside my bookbag along with other textbooks and homework assignments. I zip up my bag and swing the strap over my shoulder before grabbing my phone and water bottle.

I pause by my bedroom door to open the message Peggy had sent me. I let out a sharp whistle when I see the picture of Angelica’s boyfriend, John Church. He’s handsome that’s for sure with a well-built muscular frame with dark brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, letting a few bangs hang in front of his ear. He has dark brown skin with golden brown eyes and handsome, razor sharp cheekbones and an angular face like Laurens’s. He’s quite, uh, how you say…hot.

“Alex!” Lafayette calls from downstairs, clapping his hands to get my attention. “Come on, man! Let’s go!”

“I’m coming!”

***

We’re at the airport now. It’s not that crowded as I’d expected it to be on a Tuesday morning. I sit in the lobby with Lafayette on my right and Martha on my left. George on the other side of Martha. We’ve already gone through the metal detectors and the security guards before entering the lobby. Lafayette clings onto his passport and tickets, his sharp teeth digging into his lip as he nervously scans the room. People mill about, chatting and laughing, some eating their breakfasts while other scroll through their phones. I sneak occasional glances at Lafayette. He looks like he might possibly regret his decision in going to college in France. But he also appears to be pretty excited.

“You’ll do fine, son,” George says soothingly, resting a hand on Lafayette’s shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

Lafayette nods. “Yeah, yeah. I will. I will.”

“Do you really have to go, Laf?” I whimper, resting my head on my brother’s shoulder.

“Malherureusement, oui, I do, petite lion,” Lafayette murmurs into my russet curls.

Silence. We remain that way until the ceiling speaker says in a female voice says, “Flight 1781 is now boarding.”

The four of us get up. I wrap my arms around myself, tucking my fingers under my armpits add keeping my head lowered, staring at my shoes. I let out a shaky breath as I follow Lafayette toward the plane. I stare at it, glaring, sending the plane a mental message that if it does anything to my brother, I’ll burn the plane itself.

Lafayette stands in front of the plane’s ramp, gripping his bag and his suitcase. He turns with a warm, kind smile on his face. Perhaps, the last smile I’ll ever see from him. I try to shake that thought out of my head. I watch from a distance as Lafayette embraces George and Martha tightly before finally walking up towards me and smiling down at me. I swallow, at first not meeting his intense gaze and then finally doing so when I feel his two fingers on under my chin and forcing me to look up at him directly into his eyes.

“Hey,” Lafayette says. “Look at me, Alex. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that, Lex,” he says. “I’ll call you as soon as I can and FaceTime you when I land and get into my dorm, okay?”

I don’t respond.

Lafayette heaves a sigh through his nose and engulfs me in a tight embrace, lifting my small frame slightly off the ground. Only a little.

We stay like that for a few minutes. Lafayette’s strong, muscular arms around my small frame, pressing me closer to him and nuzzling his nose into my messy, russet curls. I squeeze my eyes, trying to let the fear of the plane crashing go and try to relax as I wrap my thin arms around him in return, burying my face into his chest.

This might be the last hug I’ll get from him…

(Shut up.)

“Hey, relax, Alex,” Lafayette’s French accented voice says. “You’re tense.”

“Maybe if you stayed, I wouldn’t be so tense!” I snap, my voice slightly muffled from his chest.

Lafayette sighs frustratingly. He pulls me away from his embrace but he keeps his hands on my shoulders. I scowl at the ground beneath me, my arms folded across my chest.

“Alex, you know I have to go to college—”

“In France?” I hiss, snapping my head up sharply to look him dead in the eye. “You just have to go France? You couldn’t just stay here in New York and go to like…like…Columbia or Harvard?!”

“Alex—”

“What if the plane crashes, Laf?! What if you don’t make it out?”

“Hey, now,” Lafayette says, crouching a little to get to my level. “Don’t think like that, petite lion. You know I’ll come back. I’ll be back in time for Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s. I’ll FaceTime you as soon as I land, okay? I promise, petite lion.”

A pause.

I swallow the lump of tears down my throat, which makes it burn.

“Promise?” I whimper, grimacing at how small my voice sounds.

Lafayette holds up his hand and wiggles his pinky finger, winking at me and smiling softly. “Pinky promise.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little, scoffing out a laugh as I loop my pinky finger around his.

“Pinky promise.”

“That’s my little lion,” Lafayette whispers before standing up and embracing George and Martha one last time before finally turning towards me.

“I have to go,” Lafayette says. He embraces me one last time before ruffling my auburn curls and pressing a soft, brotherly kiss to my forehead. “I love you, Alex. No matter what happens.”

“Love you too, Gil…” I mutter.

I stand back a few inches away from Lafayette and in front of George and Martha. I feel George wrap an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder up and down comfortingly. I watch Lafayette with a warm smile on my face as he bends down to pick up his carryon bags and his suitcase before stepping onto the ramp. He lets out a shuddering breath before climbing up the ramp itself, but pauses midway. He turns around over his shoulder and grins. I stare at him for a moment, confused but my confused expression turns into a small smile as Lafayette gives us a salute and a nod of his head before turning around and continue walking up the ramp to the plane.

I swallow again, licking my dry, chapped lips as the ramp pulls up and the door closes. I see Lafayette through the small windows on the plane, shuffling through the crowded aisles to find himself a seat. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip as I watch him stuff his suitcase above his seat and then his carryon bag. He takes off his jacket before sitting himself down in his seat. Lafayette buckles himself up and glances out the window beside him. He smiles a little at me, at us, before saluting us again one last time. I salute him.

The plane starts up and inhale sharply through my nose, watching the plane slowly go up the runway, my violet eyes wide and the plane lifts off the ground. It shoots up towards the sky, diagonally at first and then straight.

I turn and walk back inside the lobby without looking back.

***

I stand in front of the school’s entranceway now with my arms folded over my chest as I lean against a stone pillar, staring blankly at my crossed ankles, thinking about horrifying scenarios of the plane. It isn’t until I feel a small tap on my shoulder did I jolt up from my daze. I whip my head over my shoulder, lifting a curled fist up and my arm drawn back but I relax when I recognize a familiar southern voice.

“Woah! Woah!” says the southern male voice in front of me. “Relax! It’s just me, Alex!”

I look up and recognize the familiar pale-blue eyes and the light golden blonde hair and, of course, that southern accent that rolls of his tongue. He holds up both hands in front of him as if that would protect him from the blow I was about to swing at him.

“Laurens,” I breathe, lowering my arm. He smiles a little and nods.

“Yep,” he says, popping out the “P.” “That’s me.”

I shoot him a look. “Never sneak up on me like that again.”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he stares down at me with wide eyes. “Noted.”

Silence.

“What do you want, Laurens?” I say.

He shrugs, sticking his hands into his back pockets of his blue denim jeans and rocks back and forth on his heels. “Oh, well, you looked kind of lonely over here so I thought you could use some company.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little at him over my shoulder. “Thanks.”

He smiles a little. “Of course.”

Another moment of silence, though I can tell Laurens is wanting to ask me something but he looks afraid to do so. I just stare with a blank look at the brown metal doors that remain closed to the school. Laurens swallows thickly, before letting out a shaky breath and finally summoning all of his courage to ask me, “Why the long face?”

I glance at him over my shoulder. I don’t say anything, just arch an eyebrow.

“Well uh,” Laurens says, his pale-blue eyes roaming over me, analyzing me. “You uh…just look a little down. Something wrong?”

I heave a sigh through my nose. It’s not a heavy, long one like I might use if I’m annoyed or frustrated, but I light one. I turn my attention back toward the brown metal doors that lead to the school, waiting for them to be pushed open by Principle Schuyler himself.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’m just…a little anxious…”

Laurens leans against the pillar across from me, eyeing me worriedly. He tilts his head to one shoulder. “Anxious? About what?”

I sigh again through my nose, a light one at that, before finally turning around to meet his eyes. I mirror his position against the pillar, my back pressed against it with my arms over my chest and my ankles still crossed.

“My older brother left for college this morning,” I say. “He had to take a plane to get to France and now I’m scared to death that he might not come back, that plane will crash and…I’ll never see him again. I know, it sounds stupid and I’m probably just being paranoid, but I can’t help but think…”

I look down at the ground towards my shoes.

There’s a moment of silence between us before Laurens says, “It’s not stupid, Alex.”

I look up, confused. I blink at him as though he might be stupid. I don’t say anything but I wait for him to continue.

“You have every right to feel that way,” Laurens continues. “It’s totally natural and normal to feel that. If it makes you any better, though I’m not sure if it will, but I have a fear of planes too so I know exactly how you feel.”

I couldn’t help but smile up at him and nod.

As soon as I nod, however, a high-pitched female squeal echoes through the entranceway. I whip my head over to peer over Laurens’s shoulder to find a teenage girl with blonde hair and green eyes with a little bit of gray in them run towards us. Laurens gives me a look that might have said “Help me,” or something of the latter. He grimaces at her shrill shriek and winces as she launches herself onto his back, wrapping her thin arms across his neck and her legs around his waist. Laurens catches her in time by her thighs. I shift awkwardly, biting the corner of my lip. I feel like a third-wheel.

And I hate being a third-wheel.

“Ugh,” Laurens grunts. “Hi, Martha.”

“Hey, Jackie, baby!” she squeals, burying her face into his neck. Now, Laurens is defienetly giving me a look that says “Help me!” I don’t know how to help him so I just shrug which made Laurens groan miserably. “

Hi, Martha,” he says again.

Martha lowers herself onto the ground but still has her arms wrapped around Laurens’s neck. She gives Laurens a quick kiss on the lips which Laurens grimaces at. I also grimace, looking away immediately. It’s stupid. It’s wrong to have Laurens’s father make him go through this.

Once Martha is pulled away from Laurens, she turns to me and jealousy crosses her face. Possessiveness kicks in, I should say, as she wraps her arm around Laurens’s waist. She sends me daggers as she pulls her “boyfriend” closer to him.

“John?” Martha says. “Who’s your new…friend…?”

“Martha,” Laurens says in a warning tone. “Be nice. He’s new here. This is his second day here at King’s.”

“Oh, well, excuse me,” Martha says, tossing both her hands up. “I didn’t know!” She smiles sweetly at me and extends her hand out towards me for me to shake. “Sorry for that, um, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Martha Manning. I’m John’s girlfriend. A pleasure to meet you and welcome to King’s High.”

I smile softly at her and, gathering my courage, walk my way up and shake her hand with one firm motion.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Manning,” I say as politely and kindly as I can without having to meet Laurens’s begging blue eyes. “And thank you for the warm welcome.”

“Ugh! He’s so polite, Jack!” Martha gushes, wrapping her arm around his waist and a hand on his chest. Laurens tries so hard not to roll his eyes. She rests her head on his shoulder. “Your parents must have raised you well! What’s your name?”

I grimace when she said the word “parents” as though it was venom from a rattlesnake. But I try to keep a cool and collected composure. I straighten up a little, set my jaw but not to tense, and square my shoulders.

“Yes…” I say, locking eyes with Laurens’s. I swallow. “They have.” I look back down at Martha, who eyes me worriedly yet confusingly yet curiously all at the same time. “And to answer your question, Miss Manning, my name is Alexander Hamilton.”

I bow like a prince, with one arm behind my back and the other gently grabbing her small hand in mine. She blushes horrendously, her cheeks turning a dark shade of red, almost the color of blood, as I lift her hand up towards my lips and press a gentle kiss to her knuckles in greeting. I lift my violet eyes towards hers, a small grin appearing on my face and I wink.

“At your service.”

Chapter Text

“OKAY, WHAT THE hell was that?” Laurens demands while I swing my locker door open. I think I’m getting used to the lock and the combination. Even though it is just only my second day here at King’s High. I arch an eyebrow as I glance over my shoulder to lock eyes with Laurens. He doesn’t look happy.

“What was what?” I say, playing dumb.

“You were flirting with her, Alexander,” Laurens snaps, folding his muscular arms over his chest as he crosses his ankles over each other. He raises an eyebrow as he looks down at me.

“So? You don’t even like her! What’s the point?” I deadpan.

“She’s my girlfriend, Alexander!” Laurens growls.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes so instead, I just heave a sigh through my nose as I stuff my textbooks inside my locker.

“No, she isn’t, John,” I say. “Your father forced you to date her because according to you, he thinks it will cure you.”

“That’s not the point Alexander,” Laurens says. “The point is she’s still my friend.”

“Look, Jack,” I say. I notice he winces at the nickname. I frown slightly, my brows furrowing together but I shrug it off. “Can we not argue about this right now? Why don’t we argue about this after school? I have a lot of things to worry about, and you aren’t one of them.”

I slam my locker door shut, twisting the lock back and forth a few times before slinging my bookbag over my shoulder and turning to face Laurens. I press my lips together and felt my freckled cheeks warm up with triumph. I clutch my English textbooks close to my chest, waiting for Laurens to make an argument. He just narrows his icy, cold blue eyes at me and scowl. He looks like he wants to say something, I can see his eyes flickering up and down, his lip twitching, but he just can’t seem to get the words out. I make a scoffing noise before walking past him, brushing my shoulder against his as I pat his shoulder before walking down the hall.

“No, seriously, Alexander,” Laurens says, jogging up beside me. I feel him grab my elbow to pull me back slightly. I roll my eyes this time, sighing heavily. “Why’d you do that? What the hell was that all about?!”

I shrug. “It was nothing, John. I was just being polite and introducing myself to her.”

“By flirting with her,” Laurens says.

I roll my eyes again. “Would you calm down? I’m not going to hit on her or anything. I just met her!”

“Well, you know what they say,” Laurens grumbles. “Love at first sight.”

I whack his arm with the back of my hand. “Shut it! Calm down! Trust me, John. I’m not ready for dating! Flirting and using my charms is just a…um…how you say…? Trait…I inherited from my mother. But other than that, I was just being polite so would you calm the eff down?” Except I don’t say “eff”. I say what it stands for.

Laurens sighs, his tense shoulders slumping a little. “Fine. But we’re not done here. See you in Bio, Hamilton.”

I watch him walk away from me, his back facing me and his arms are still crossed over his chest. I stand there in the middle of the crowded, claustrophobic hallway with my jaw hanging open slightly and my eyes narrowed after him. Students walk around me, chatting with their friends or boyfriends or girlfriends, some bumping into me and nearly making me stumble forward over my shoelaces.

“You alright?” says a deep, male voice from behind me.

I yelp with surprise, jumping up in place and spin around on my heels to face a teenage boy with dark black eyes that twinkle against the fluorescent light above us and pale skin with silky, raven black hair smoothed to the side. He has an angular face with sharp cheekbones and jawline. He has a hooked nose like mine and his thin lips are pressed together. His brows are knitted towards each other as he narrows his eyes at me with worry and concern, a crease forming in his forehead as he tilts his head to one, broad muscular shoulder. He’s naturally lean and muscular and quite handsome. His hand is on my shoulder.

“Um…yeah, I-I’m fine,” I say.

“Are you sure?” the boy says. “You spaced out there for a second.”

“Oh,” I say and then nod. “Yeah. I’m alright. Thanks.”

“Of course,” he says. He walks beside me with his textbooks also clutched to his chest, his bag against his back.

“So, uh…what’s your name?” I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

“Aaron Burr,” he says. He extends his hand out for me to shake. “And you must be Alexander Hamilton. A pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” I say with a small smile as I shake his hand. I shiver. It’s cold.

“So,” Burr says as we begin walking down the hall toward our classes. “I heard you were from the Caribbean?”

I freeze suddenly, my eyes widening a bit. My head whizzes over my shoulder quickly and I shoot him a hard look. He immediately steps back and tosses both hands up, his raven black eyes widening with confusion.

“How’d you know that?” I demand.

“Uh…gossip?” Burr says, though it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Uh-huh,” I say, turning around to face the front and we make a left before continuing down the halls.

We remain silent for a while, until Burr clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and glances at me almost hesitantly. He looks rather…scared. He chews on his lip. I glance at him, arching an eyebrow.

“What?” I say.

He shrugs, shaking his head as he clears his throat. “Er…nothing.”

I hum suspiciously in response before turning my attention towards the front, my arms folded over my chest. Burr swallows as he shuffles up toward me, trying to catch up. He clears his throat.

“So, you’re new here?” he asks.

I nod. “Yep.”

“How’re you uh…taking it? The better word, I should say, should be liking it here?”

I shrug. “It’s alright.”

Burr raises an eyebrow as we make a right and continue walking down the hall, students around us chatting away and laughing at random jokes.

“Do you speak anything more than two words an answer?” Burr asks.

“Yes, I do,” I say. “See. That was three words I just spoken.”

“Oh,” he says. “Are you seclusive or something?”

“Seclusive,” I repeat, an eyebrow raised and the corners of my lip twitches upwards. “Big words. I like that.”

“Hm, yes,” Burr agrees with a nod. “I do read a lot in my spare time.”

“You sound professional,” I comment. I turn to him over my shoulder, a curious eyebrow raised. “Are you like a lawyer or something?”

“I do wish to be a lawyer one day after I graduate college,” he says. He glances at me. “You?”

“Same,” I say. “But right now, I’m currently a novelist. Or, well, the more precise word should be writer. I like to call myself a novelist.”

Burr chuckles as we make another left.

“What do you write?” he wonders.

“Oh, just random short stories as of right now,” I say. “Or whatever thoughts come to mind. I don’t make any outline or rough draft of it. I just write whatever comes to mind as of right now.”

Burr only hums in response.

We remain silent for quite some time, that is, until we reach English. Burr steps in front of me, glances at the long, rectangular glass window in the middle of the door with his arms crossed as he stares into the class before turning towards me. I turn toward him.

“I um…I have to get going,” he says. “I have Chemistry to get too.”

I nod with understanding. “I have English to get too.”

Burr smiles softly as he gently pats my shoulder. He frowns though and inches close towards me. I can feel his cold breath against my warm skin and I shiver, staring down at him with a mix of fear and confusion. He grins.

“Talk less. Smile more.”

Before I could utter a word, he meanders around me and walks down the hall.

I stare after him with a blank look on my face, my jaw hanging open slightly as I blink my stunned eyes. Wonder what he means by that… I shake my head and turn towards the classroom door. I grip the silver knob and twist it to the left before swinging it open and walking inside.

I enter the class and close the door gently behind me, shuffling towards my seat in the far back next to that red jacketed girl I sat next to yesterday. I’m hoping George doesn’t mention me. I really don’t feel like being in the spot light at the moment.

“Ah! Alexander!” Well, there goes that. “Just the person I’ve been waiting for!”

I grimace before slowly turning around to face George with a warm smile.

“Hi, Dad,” I say. “Can I go sit down now?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” George says, waving his hand at me and shooing me away as though I were a harmless little fly. He sits back down, swinging his chair around as he pushes the bridge of his glasses up his nose. He sniffs and types away until the bell rings.

I sit myself down in my desk, bending over at my side to pull out my textbooks and my three-ringed English binder and my agenda. I flip my planner open, clicking my pen, before looking up at the white board with today’s homework assignments. I squint as I try to read what the black marker says. Let’s see. There’s an essay on Shakespeare: Macbeth and one on Edgar Allen Poe. I jot those two down before looking back up again. A study guide sheet to answer for an upcoming test that’s in a couple of weeks.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. I yelp, whipping my head over to my left to find Eliza beaming down at me. She has her textbooks close to her chest and her raven black hair is pulled back into a high bun, letting a few curly bangs dangle in front of her ears. She smiles widely and waves at me as she pulls out her chair at the desk next to me. I smile gently, waving a bit shyly at her. She scoots herself forward, smoothing out her baby blue dress and tucking a loose strand of brunette hair behind her ear. She flips her textbook open to the page the white board says and turns to me.

“Hey,” I say, brushing back a loose auburn curl.

“Hi!” she says, her voice sweet as sugar.

“You seem excited,” I say.

“I am!” she gasps.

“About what?” I wonder.

“Well um…every year here at my place, my mother hosts a ball. It’s usually around during winter so it’s called a Winter’s Ball. It’s happening in about a month or so and um…I was wondering if uh…um…uh…”

“Yes?” I prompt, setting my pen down and resting my hands on top of each other flat on my planner. I turn to face her with curious eyes.

Eliza swallows nervously, chewing the corner of her lip as she fiddles with the hem of her dark blue shawl. Her brunette brown eyes flicker up and down as though she was analyzing me, trying to memorize every detail I have.

“You okay, Eliza?” I ask, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her brown eyes widen slightly when she sees my hand on her shoulder. She presses her thin, pink lips together in a firm, straight line. Her pale cheeks turn into a deep shade of red. She whimpers and bites her lip. I stare at her with worried eyes. “You look a little…tense…”

She swallows again, thickly too. I can see the lump in her throat go up and down, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of my hand that’s still on her shoulder.

“Um…I was just uh…wondering…if um…if you’d…if you’d…uh…if you’d er…want…to…” As she finishes her question, her words get smaller and smaller and she even shrinks back a little. “Uh…um…want…to…go…with…me…?”

I blink a couple of times. She swallows again, wrapping her arms around herself and cursing herself. She moans embarrassingly and rests her elbows on her desk, burying her face into her hands to hide her blush. And it’s not from her makeup.

“Ooh,” she whines desperately. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Alex! I…It’s just…Angie has John Church and Peggy has Stephen and I have no one and uh…I-I—” She looks at me through her fingers, and blurts out quickly like the words are smashed together: “I like you!”

I freeze, my violet eyes widen slightly. She likes me? Eliza Schuyler likes me? Laurens was right. I stare at her with shock, my jaw hanging open slightly. For once, no words come out. I can feel a few students’ eyes on us as the scene intensifies before them.

Eliza gasps, realizing what she just said and her cheeks turn into a deep mahogany red.

“I-I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Alex! You just got here and I…I…I—”

Before I could stop her, Eliza scoots her chair back quickly, so quick that the legs squeak against the white tiled floor, causing her chair to knock into the student’s desk behind us. She winces and mumbles a quick apology to the student behind us and gathers her textbooks into her arms and swings her bag around. I open my mouth to protest, but before I could utter a word, she’s out the classroom like a bolt of lightning. I wince as the door slams shut behind her, leaving the class into total silence.

I run a hand through my dark auburn curls and huff out a sigh, my freckled cheeks puffing out. I stand up from my desk, leaving my things where they are. I lock eyes with George, who has an amused grin on his face, an eyebrow raised. I keep my expression calm and collected, a straight-face, as I say, “I’ll be right back.”

I fumble out of my chair, stumbling my way towards the classroom door, ignoring the few snickers coming from the students behind me and swing the wooden door open. I let it flutter shut behind me as I race down the halls after Eliza. I see the flap of her light blue dress running around the corner, making a sharp left. I swerve to the left, my shoes squeaking against the tiled floors and call out with desperation, “Eliza! Eliza! Eliza, wait!”

She jingles the knob to a closet door when I reach around the corner and flings herself inside, letting the door slam shut right in front of me. I hear it click. I curse under my breath and glance back and forth down the hall, making sure no one is in the halls but me. I heave a heavy sigh through my nose and rattle my knuckles against the glass window in the middle of the door. I lean against the door with my arms folded over my chest, my ankles crossed.

“Eliza,” I say.

“Go away,” she mumbles, followed by a sniff.

I heave another sigh with my lips pressed tight together. I still stare at my black Nike tennis shoes as I lean my head against the brick wall.

“Eliza, please,” I say. Though, in all honesty, it sounded like a beg or more like a whimper.

“I said go away!” she snaps, her voice slightly muffled behind the closed door.

I sigh again. “Eliza. Please. I’m not mad.” A pause. “I’ll go.”

Another short pause, and then a small, “Really?”

Her sweet voice is so small that my heart breaks. I chew on the corner of my lip. I’ve never been the one for school dances or events as such, but I’m sure it’s what Lafayette would want me to do. Plus, she’s my friend, right? I force the corners of my lips turn upward slightly and nod, even though she can’t see me. I swallow.

“Yeah,” I say. “Really.”

I hear the knob click and it jingles left and right a bit before she swings it open. She wraps her thin arms around herself, smiling shyly as she leans against the doorframe. She presses her lips together in a small line and her dark brown eyes flickers up toward my violet ones.

“Thank you, Alex,” she says after a moment of silence between us. “You really don’t have to go if you don’t want too. I shouldn’t have made that move on you. I mean, you just got here and you still need time to adjust and—”

I put my index finger to her lips to shush her. Her eyes widen and her pale cheeks turn into a rosy shade of pink as she stares down at my finger. I couldn’t help but look smug.

“Eliza,” I say. “Hush. I’ll go. I…I want to go.”

I lower my finger from her lips and she looks up at me questioningly. “A-Are you sure? I don’t want to seem like I’m—”

I nod. “I’m sure. Trust me. Without Laf, it’s just…pretty quiet around the house.”

“What about Mr. and Mrs. Washington?” she asks innocently.

“They’re alright. It’s just…you know how brothers are,” I say with a fond smile on my face. “Always putting up fights with each other.”

“Laf seems like a nice guy,” Eliza says.

I nod. “He is.”

“When he comes back from college for the holidays, Alex,” Eliza says, almost hesitantly. “Would it be alright if my sisters and I could meet him?”

“Of course!” I exclaim, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He’d love to meet you! Why don’t you and your sisters come over and we can FaceTime Gil tonight? He’s supposed be FaceTiming me when he lands.” Supposed is the key word.

Eliza smiles, a warm blush coating her cheeks. She nods, sniffing before tucking a loose strand of dark brown hair behind her ear.

“Yeah,” she says. “I’d like that. If it’s not too much trouble, I mean.”

I shake my head, taking both of her hands in mine and looking dead in the eye. “It’s not. I promise. Plus, Martha can use some girls around. I’m sure she feels lonely with just us men around the house.”

Eliza chuckles and fully steps out of the closet, letting the door shut behind her.

“Thank you, Alex,” she says. She frowns after a moment of silence has passed between us. “I’m so sorry for acting like that, Alex. I didn’t mean to overreact like that. I was just so stressed with the Ball coming up and school and the fact that I still don’t have a boyfriend while Peggy and Angelica do…it’s just…ugh…you know?”

I force a small laugh to escape me will nodding my head up and down with agreement.

“Yeah, I do know,” I say. “Also, I didn’t know Peggy had a boyfriend? She never told me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Eliza says with a shudder as we walk down the hallway back toward English. “Stephen Van Rennselar.”

I frown, my brows knitting together with a crease forming in my forehead. “Isn’t Peggy a little…young to be in an…intimate relationship?”

“I suppose,” Eliza agrees with a shrug. “But the two are head over heels for each other. Plus, what does age matter? I mean, love is love, right? No matter the gender or age.”

I force a small smile to form on my face. “Yeah. You’re right.”

***

When English is over, the bell rings to confirm that class is officially over. I take my time, slowly scooting out of the chair and reaching behind me to grab my textbooks and notebooks and all of my other supplies and stuff them into my bookbag. I zip up my bag, swinging the strap over my shoulder and pushing my chair back in. I pull out my phone from my back pocket to check for any misread messages or notifications. So far, nothing. Well, besides someone on Instagram made a post and there’s a tweet here and a news alert here, but other than that, no messages. I click my phone off and tuck it back safely into my back pocket before exiting the classroom. Just when I’m about to step out into the claustrophobic hallway, George’s voice stops me.

“Alexander? May I have a word with you, son?” George asks, shuffling through stacks of papers of what I assume maybe essays.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I groan, spinning around on my heels to face him and walk toward him until I’m standing in front of his wooden, rectangular desk. I stand before him, gripping both straps of my bookbag tightly.

“Yeah, Dad?” I say.

“You’re not in trouble,” George says. “I just want to make sure you’re alright. With Gilbert gone and all…? I know how close you two are...”

I relax a little and force a shy smile on my face. “I’m fine, Dad. It’ll take some time to get used to with Gil not around, but I’ll be fine. I promise.” A pause. “Also, Dad, is it okay if the Schuyler Sisters come over tonight? Eliza wants to meet Gil and Gil promised me he’d FaceTime me when he lands and well—”

George chuckles, shushing me immediately. “Of course, my boy. They may.”

I smile widely. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nods. “Of course. You are dismissed, Alexander.”

He waves me off like I’m a harmless little fly on his shoulder but the smalls smile that was on his face a moment ago, faded into a frown. He sighs, his cheeks puffing as he runs a hand through his red hair as he looks back down at the papers in his hands and at the stack at the corner of his desk.

I close the door behind me, racing through the crowded halls with a smile of victory on my face.

Chapter Text

I STAND IN front of my locker, stuffing my English books inside and exchanging them for my Biology textbooks. My bookbag is unzipped and propped up against the wall beneath me under my locker, a giddy smile on my face as an image of Eliza fills my head. My heart flutters every time I think of her.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” a male, southern voice says. I yelp, causing the locker door to slam shut as I whirl around to find John Laurens standing next to me. He has a teasing grin on his face as both eyebrows are arched upward. He tilts his head a little to one shoulder with his arms folded over his chest and his ankles crossed over each other. I let out a sigh of relief when I realize that it was just him. I open my locker door again and continue doing the task I was already doing. I brush back a loose auburn curl behind my ear absentmindedly and the giddy grin returns. I nod with confirmation at Laurens observations.

“I am,” I agree.

“Well,” Laurens says. “Do prey tell, Hamilton. What has gotten you in a good mood lately? Last time I saw you were a grumpy, angsty teenager.”

I shoot Laurens a look over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow, the giddy smile instantly falling. Laurens realizes his mistake and tosses both hands up in the air, taking a step back.

“Just sayin’!” he says, his country accent rolling off of his tongue. The giddy smile returns as I turn my attention back toward my locker, stuffing a notebook inside.

“You’re right,” I say. “I am in a good mood.”

A pause. I shut my locker door once I’m finished with my task, twisting the silver lock using my combination code and turn to face Laurens with my arms folded over my chest.

“I got a date!” I exclaim.

For a split second, Laurens frowns but he tries to cover it up, hoping I didn’t see it. But I did. But Laurens recovers, forcing a fake smile to appear on his face.

“A…A date?” he repeats.

I nod. “Mhm. But we’re not going until close to December.”

He frowns again, but this time he doesn’t recover. He keeps the frown there. I swear, I could see a twinkle of jealousy in his pale, blue eyes. He tucks a loose strand of blonde hair behind his ear and clears his throat,

“With who?” Laurens asks, his voice going suddenly cold.

“Eliza,” I say. “I’m going as her date to the Schuyler’s Annual Winter’s Ball.”

Laurens nearly chokes on air, I suppose. But he makes a choking sound when he hears the truth. His eyes widen slightly and he gapes at me, his jaw slacked a little.

“E-Eliza?”

“Mhm.”

“What…how—?” Laurens says, completely shocked.

“You seem surprised,” I observe. I arch an eyebrow at him. “And flustered, might I add. Are you alright, John? Do you have a problem with me being with Eliza?”

Laurens swallows thickly and shakes his head, scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “No. No, of course. I’m happy for you, Alexander. Really. It’s just…ah…nothing.”

“Oh, come on, John!” I say in a sing-song like voice. “Tell me! What’s bothering you?”

“Uh…nothing! Nothing,” he says, rather quickly I should add. I know he’s lying then. “I’m fine. Fine. Forget I said anything! I’m uh…I’m really proud of you, Alexander. Congrats. See you in Bio.” He pats my shoulder before rushing off.

I stare after him with a confused look on my face. I shrug, telling myself it’s probably not a big deal and head towards Biology.

After a few minutes of walking down the crowded halls, I finally reach the Biology classroom door. Students are still lingering against their lockers, chatting with one another about something or laughing at a random joke here and bullies there. I peek through the glass window in the middle of the wooden door, searching for Laurens himself. The bell hasn’t rang yet, indicating that class is starting which means I have plenty of time left.

I push open the door and slowly enter the room, closing the door gently behind me. Mr. Paine sits at his desk, sniffling as he shuffles through papers and pushing up the bridge of his glasses up his nose with his forefinger. He looks up when I enter and a bright smile covers his crinkles around the corners of his lips. He suddenly looks ten years younger.

“Ah, there he is! The man of the hour!” Mr. Paine exclaims. “Good morning, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Morning, Mr. Paine,” I say with a nod as I shuffle down the row of desks toward my own. I give him a salute with another nod and a warm smile on my face.

I sit down at my desk next to a boy with blonde hair that’s almost the color of white, almost the color of clouds. He has sky-blue eyes mixed with flecks of gray in them. He has pale, smooth skin and his face is angular with a razor-sharp jawline. He has a masculine frame and his feet are propped up on his desk. He rests one arm behind his head while his other hand clutches his phone, scrolling lazily through his social media apps while waiting for class to begin. He wears a white fur jacket with a red shirt underneath and a golden chain around his neck. I eye him suspiciously and cautiously as I carefully slide into my desk, propping my bag against my legs. Laurens sits on my right while this kid sits on my left. I don’t remember him being here yesterday…

The kid must have noticed me, because his pale blue eyes flicker faster than a flash of lightning toward me. My violet eyes widen a little and I feel my freckled cheeks grow warm. I press my lips together in a straight line as his thumb suddenly stops scrolling through what looks like Instagram. He eyes me up and down, smirking a little and arching an eyebrow. He lets out a disgruntled noise that sounds almost like a scoff.

“What?” he snaps, his voice twinged with a British accent.

I frown deeper, causing my brows to knit together and a crease to form in my forehead. Is he an immigrant too?

“Um…n-nothing,” I say, grimacing at my stuttering.

The boy clicks his phone off and sets it aside. He lowers his feet off the desk and rests his forearms where his feet were. He shifts a little so he’s facing me and staring deep into my eyes. I shrink a little at his penetrating stare, swallowing hard.

“Got something to say?” the boy snaps, tilting his head a little to one shoulder.

I swallow hard again, shaking my head and puckering my lips as though I’ve tasted something sour. “Mhm. Nope. No. Uh…it’s just…uh…I didn’t recognize you in here yesterday and your appearance kind of…startled me is all.”

“Oh,” the boy says simply, leaning back in his chair and relaxing a little.

I let out a sigh of relief, my tense shoulders slumping. The boy meets my eyes again and grins, folding his arms over his chest.

“I take it your new here?” the boy asks.

I nod, scratching the nape of my neck. “Uh…yeah. I arrived here yesterday.”

“Sweet,” he says. “What’s your name?”

“Alexander,” I say. I extend my hand out for him to shake. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

The boy snickers. “What century are we in? 18th Century?”

I shrug, grinning. “I just like using big words. They make me sound professional.”

The boy laughs and shakes my hand firmly. “I like you, kid. My name’s Fredrick George, though most people here around the school call me King. A pleasure.”

I force a smile. “You too.”

I glance at my right, at the empty seat where Laurens should be. I frown worriedly.

“You okay?” King asks.

“Yeah,” I say, turning back to face him. I run a hand through my auburn hair. “I’m just…worried is all.”

“About what?” King wonders, resting his chin in his palm and his elbow on his desk.

“A lot of things,” I answer. “My brother—adoptive brother, I should say—left for college this morning and I’m worried about the plane crashing or something. I know, I’m probably being paranoid, but still. I can’t help but think…”

“It’s alright,” King assures me. resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You have every right to feel that way, Alexander. It’s perfectly normal, but I’m sure your brother will be alright.”

“Yeah…” I sigh quietly, looking over my shoulder at the empty desk next me. A pause fills the silence between us. “And Laurens.”

“Laurens?” King says, sounding surprised. “You mean, John Laurens?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Is there another Laurens in this school I should know about?”

King shakes his head, pressing his lips together. “No. Just took me by surprise is all. What about Laurens?”

“Class is about to start and he’s not here yet. I assumed he’s always in class on time, before the bell rings,” I say.

“Oh, yeah, he usually is,” King says. “Unless he’s making out with his girlfriend then…”

I wince at the mention of Martha Manning, my chest squeezing with a twinge of jealousy. I don’t say anything. I just nod, staring blankly at Laurens’s empty desk beside me. Before I know it, the bell rings, indicating class is starting.

“Alright, kids,” Mr. Paine bellows as he shoots up from his leathered desk chair and claps his hands together to gather our attention. To my surprise, all students lower their feet if they had them propped up on their desks and click their phone off, tucking it away and all turn to face Mr. Paine who smiles brightly. “Good. Glad we’re all on the same page. Now, you all should have completed that essay I assigned you—except for Mr. Hamilton here of course, who just arrived here yesterday.”

Mr. Paine nods at my direction with a warm, soft smile. I smile back and return the nod. Mr. Paine turns his attention back towards the class. He walks around his desk in a brisk motion and holds out his hand in front of the students, gesturing them to hand over their homework so he can grade it. Reluctantly, the students glumly hand over their papers to Mr. Paine, who takes them in one swift movement.

Just as soon as Mr. Paine walks around his desk and stands behind it, the door swings open, hitting the cream-colored wall with a sudden bang that sounds almost like a clap of thunder. I jolt a little in my seat, startled by the sudden noise, and whip my head towards the door with wide eyes.

John Laurens stands in the middle of the doorway, looking bedraggled and distressed. His light, golden blonde hair is unkept and a few strands sticks out at random from his loose low ponytail that drapes over the back of his neck. His light blue eyes are wide and his breaths are labored as though his chest was being crushed by some unseeable force. His clothes are rumpled and a few wrinkles appear here and there. I notice a small purplish bruise on his neck. I frown, furrowing my brows as I tilt my head. Mr. Paine eyes him worriedly as Laurens glances around the stunned and confused classroom.

Laurens flustered cheeks turn into a darker shade of red as he clears his throat, standing a bit straighter and more formal. He smooths out his shirt and adjusts his collar to cover up the purplish bruise, hoping nobody has noticed it. But I did. Laurens smooths out his unkept blonde hair and tightens his ponytail. He shrugs the strap to his bookbag to a more comfortable position. He slowly enters the room, closing the door gently behind him and turns to face the quiet class. He bites his lower lip, letting out a small, awkward chuckle as he scratches the nape of his neck.

“Um…sorry I’m late,” Laurens says. “I um…I uh…lost track of time and had some uh...family business to deal with is all…My apologies, Mr. Paine. Oh, here!” Laurens reaches from behind him to pull out a sheet of copy paper and hands it to Mr. Paine. Mr. Paine takes it slowly, eyeing Laurens with deep caution and concern. “The essay that was supposed to be due today.”

Mr. Paine eyes Laurens suspiciously and snatches the essay from Laurens’s hands in one swift movement. He glances down at the paper in front of him, scanning over Laurens’s words. Mr. Paine hums and looks back up at Laurens, who has one hand tucked in his back pocket while the other hand scratches behind his neck. Laurens smiles sheepishly as he rocks a little back and forth on his heels. He swallows the lump down his throat and licks his lips as he waits for Mr. Paine’s response.

“Hm,” Mr. Paine hums after a moment of silence. He looks up sharply at Laurens. “Very well, Mr. Laurens. Do take your seat. We will begin shortly.”

Laurens out a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders slumping as he trudges his way towards his desk beside me. Laurens slides into his desk, sliding his bag off of his shoulder and letting it flop onto the ground next to his legs. King and I watch him with stunned, confused looks as Laurens bends over and reaches for his Biology textbook and his three-ringed binder and planner and flops them onto his desk. He flips the page that’s written on the whiteboard in front of the room and looks directly at me. Laurens frowns, confused, drawing his brows together.

“What?” Laurens says.

“Was that a hickey?!” King gasps, a teasing smirk on his face. He jabs his finger past my shoulder, at Laurens’s neck.

“What?! No!” Laurens splutters, eyes widening and a deep shade of red covering his pale cheeks. Instinctively, his hand reaches up toward his neck where the purplish bruise was and slaps his hand over it. “No! No, it is not! It was just uh…um…er…a-a-a mosquito bite!”

My eyes widen, shocked and King just merely laughs, clapping a hand on my shoulder. I stare at Laurens, feeling a little betrayed. Laurens sees the hurt in my eyes and presses his lips together in a straight line, ducking his chin toward his chest.

“Woo! Congrats, John!” King exclaims breathlessly.

Laurens shoots King a look as I lean over my desk slightly and whisper sharply, “You made out with her?!”

“I had no choice, okay?” Laurens protests. “She cornered me!”

“I can’t believe you!” I say. “I thought you said you didn’t like her?!”

“I don’t!” he snaps.

“Wait a second,” King interrupts. “If you don’t like her, then why are you dating her?”

Laurens sighs. “Because my father forced me too. Without my consent or opinion. He just basically said ‘Hey, John! You’re getting a girlfriend because it’ll cure you and you’ll be marrying her at the end of the school semester.’”

I choke on air. “Marrying her? You didn’t tell me that!”

“You didn’t need to know that!” Laurens hisses, jabbing his finger at me.

“Cure you?” King says before I could make another argument. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Laurens says in a cold voice that says it’s the end of discussion. Laurens turns his head sharply towards the front of the room, where Mr. Paine stands in front of the whiteboard drawing what appears to be some sort of Venn diagram with drawings of enzymes in the circles. He doesn’t say anything else after that.

I eye Laurens suspiciously for a moment, scanning his facial features to see if he’s lying or hiding something or what. So far, I see nothing in his face that betrays him. Though, his voice does. Laurens grinds his jaw, clenching his fist around the pencil in his hand as he hurriedly jots down notes off the whiteboard as Mr. Paine draws diagrams of the blood cells and enzymes and discuss their benefits and what they do, etcetera. Laurens bright blue eyes suddenly turn into a darker shade of blue as they narrow at the whiteboard. He brushes back a loose strand of sandy blonde hair behind his ear and continues his work.

After a while, I find myself doing the same. I’m hunched over my desk, my pen in hand as I jot down notes from the whiteboard that I think are important for me to know. After a while, perhaps around forty-five minutes later or when it’s close to the end of class, Mr. Paine stands before his desk, facing his students. I look up from my textbook to see him reaching for a stack of papers along the edge of the desk.

“I am going to start handing out your homework papers for tonight,” Mr. Paine explains. “You are to complete a ten paged essay on the anatomy of the human body and it’s biology based on what we have discussed today.”

Laurens groans as Mr. Paine walks in front of each row of desks, handing out the papers to each student. Laurens slumps forward a little as Mr. Paine reaches the second row of desks.

“Ten pages!” Laurens groans. “I don’t have time for that!”

“Yeah, you do,” I say, patting Laurens’s shoulder as he buries his face in his hands, elbows on his desk. “It’s called doing it when you receive it and not procrastinating.”

“Easy for you to say,” Laurens mumbles, his voice slightly muffled behind his hands. “You don’t have a girlfriend you never loved to deal with and football practice that takes two hours of my afternoon…”

“You’ll be fine, John,” I say, still patting his shoulder. “I’m sure if you asked, Mr. Paine will allow you to extend the project assignment to tomorrow or perhaps two days ahead.”

“Nah, you’re right, Alex,” Laurens says, leaning back a little in his seat and lifting his face from his hand as Mr. Paine reaches the third row of desks. “It’s not the end of the world.” I just smile brightly at him, nodding while still patting his shoulder. Laurens glances at me, arching an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Can you stop patting my shoulder?” Laurens asks flatly.

“Oh, right,” I say, feeling my freckled cheeks go warm. I stop patting his shoulder and lower his hand. “Sorry.”

Laurens chuckles softly through his nose, shaking his head as he crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s alright.”

Mr. Paine reaches the final row of desks and hands out our homework assignments. I tuck away mine when he gives me mine into my Biology binder. The three ringed pronged closes with a satisfying click and flip the binder close, stuffing the dark green binder into my bookbag. Mr. Paine finishes handing out the papers and returns to his desk. He reaches for another stack.

“You also have a pop quiz at the end of next week,” Mr. Paine says. Once he finishes, the students groan miserably. Even I find myself doing so.

“Oh, hush,” Mr. Paine snaps. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s not even that long.”

Mr. Paine slowly walks through each row of desk, handing each student their study guide for the pop quiz next week. I take mine and stuff it into my Biology folder. Just as soon as Mr. Paine finishes handing out the study guide to the last student, the bell rings, indicating class is over. Simultaneously, Laurens and I scoot our chairs back at the same time. We stuff our supplies down in our bookbags, zip them up at the same time, and swing the straps over our shoulders. We push our chair in and rush towards the door to get away from this hellhole. Students soon follow after us. Mr. Paine sighs frustratingly, flopping down in his leather chair and tossing his hands up in defeat with a roll of his eyes.

“You all are dismissed!”

Laurens and I speed walk down the hall. We’re not exactly in a walking pace nor are we running like the other students around us who are trying to get to their lockers or their next class. We’re kind of jogging down the hallway, our hands gripping our shoulder straps. We make a left and continue down the hallways to find my locker.

“Hey, uh…Alex,” Laurens says after a moment of silence between us. We’re now slowing down to a walk. I turn to him, arching an eyebrow. But I don’t respond. Laurens clears his throat when we finally reach my locker. He leans against the locker next to mine, his muscular arms over his chest and one ankle in front of the other as he looks down at me. He presses his lips together and his pale blue eyes scan me up and down. He licks his lips. “Um…I was thinking…uh…the guys and I are meeting up at Applebee’s tonight for dinner after practice…”

“Okay,” I say cautiously, swinging my locker door open.

“Um…I was uh…wondering…if uh…” Laurens’s voice trails off when I lock my eyes with his. I frown, furrowing my brows together and tilting my head slightly to my shoulder.

“What?” I say when I realize he hasn’t finished his question after five minutes of gawking at me. Laurens blinks, clearing his throat. He shakes his head.

“Um…nothing,” he says. Laurens locks his eyes with mine again. I heave a sigh frustratingly and rest my shoulder against my locker door, crossing my arms over my chest and arching an eyebrow as I wait for his response.

“Nothing?” I say.

Laurens sighs defeatedly. “Alex, I was uh…wondering if you’d um…like to come with me tonight to uh…Applebee’s and um…meet the guys and uh…hang out for a bit…”

“Hang out for a bit?” I repeat, smirking.

Laurens blushes a deep shade of red, his bright blue eyes widening and his lips are pressed firmly together in a straight line. I burst out laughing at his stunned expression, doubling over and wheezing. Laurens blushes deeper, his cheeks almost red as a tomato.

“No!” Laurens says once I’ve straightened up and calmed down somewhat. “No. No, no. Not…like that! Just um…just hang out with me and the guys. I think they’ll adore you.” Laurens pauses, humming with thought as he scans me up and down, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I think you’ll fit well with Meade and Tilghman. Possibly Warren and Hale. They’ll like you a lot, I think.”

I hesitate, chewing the bottom of my lip and fidgeting back and forth on my heels. Hanging out with a group of guys? Without Lafayette by my side? I’ve never done that before. Though, for some reason, I could have sworn I heard Lafayette mention Meade and Tilghman before. I can’t place my finger on it.

“Well? What do you say? I’ll uh…pick you up at eight?” Laurens says.

I grin. I don’t need to have Lafayette’s permission to hang out with Laurens and a group of hot teenage guys and having him follow me around like a lost puppy. I’m an adult for God’s sake. Or well, I’m technically seventeen, but still! I need to learn how to make my own choices and this is an example. I look up at Laurens, locking my dark violet eyes with his bright blue ones. Laurens’s face still asks “Well?”

I grin wider, letting out a nervous, shaky breath and nodding my head. My small smile grows wider when I see Laurens smile widens.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll go,” I say quietly.

“You’ll go? Really?”

I nod. “Yeah. Really.”

“Great!” Laurens says, clapping his hands together. He points finger guns at me and I try to fight the urge to roll my eyes but I’m still smiling like an idiot. “I’ll uh…I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Perfect.”

Laurens beams one last time before spinning around on his heels and racing down the hallway. I watch him run, leaning my head against my locker door with a fond smile on my face but just before Laurens reaches the end of the hall to make a sharp right, I call out: “Oh! And Laurens?”

“Yeah, Alex?” Laurens says, skidding to a stop and making his sneakers screech against the tiled floors. He whips his head over his shoulder and raises his eyebrow. I couldn’t but grin as I say:

“Laurens, I like you a lot!”

Chapter Text

“KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL me now!” I wail as I race through the lunch tables in the cafeteria with my lunch tray held tightly in my small hands. My violet eyes are blown wide and my freckled cheeks are unusually warm and my dark auburn hair flies around me as I race through the cafeteria to find the Schuyler Sisters sitting at our usual lunch table. I reach our table, sliding myself down onto the bench and slamming my tray on the wooden table, causing my silver wear to jingle a little and the Schuyler Sisters to jump from their seats across from me. I run a hand through my dark auburn curls, glancing around my back to make sure Laurens is no where near or inside the cafeteria or near us in general. Once, I made sure Laurens was nowhere in sight, I make a loud, miserable moan and flop my head down on top of my folded arms on the table, my bangs dangling in front of my arms.

“You alright there, Alex?” Peggy asks, raising an eyebrow as she chews on her sushi.

I lift my head up sharply, shooting her a hard glare, my eyes narrowed and my jaw set, my brows furrowed together. I scowl. I can already feel my breathing starting to get heavy, faster, my heart beating loudly against my chest and my head is starting to ache, as though a hammer were smashing against my forehead.

“No. No, I am not alright!” I snap. I groan again, burying my face into my palms while I rest my elbows on the table. “Oh, God…what am I going to do? What am I going to do?” I flop my head back down on top of my forearms and groan, screwing my eyes shut. Just as I do that, though, a sudden thought comes to mind. I snap my head up, my red hair hanging loose from its ponytail and framing my features, my violet eyes blown wide. The sisters glance at each other worriedly yet confusedly before turning their attention back at me. I slide my hand down my face, letting my skin drag along with my hand. “If Laf finds out I’m going out with a bunch of hot teenage guys all by myself he’ll kill me!”

Peggy’s hazel brown eyes widen. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Slow down there, mister! You’re going out with a bunch of guys by yourself?”

I bite my lower lip, wrapping my slim arms around myself and I can feel myself shrinking. I swallow thickly.

“Well…not really by myself…” I mumble shyly. I brush back a loose strand of auburn hair behind my ear.

“What do you mean?” Angelica asks skeptically, plucking a strawberry into her mouth.

I swallow, laughing through my nose and shuddering as a clear image of John Laurens shooting through my mind. In my mind, he stands before me, towering above. To me, Laurens feels like the Ifle Tower. Though, he’s only a couple of inches taller than I am. In my head, I see Laurens’s smile grow wider by the second, his bright blue eyes lighting up and making my heart swell in my chest. His honey blonde hair pulled back into his trademark loose ponytail, a few strands of blonde hair falling loose in front of his eyes and ears. I feel myself smiling fondly a little at the image of him in my head and I let out a soft sigh. He really does look like a Disney prince. Perhaps Laurens could be Prince Eric from the Little Mermaid or Prince Adam from Beauty and the Beast.

“Alexander?” Eliza’s honey-sweet voice echoes through my brain, causing me to blink back into reality.

When I blink, I frown a little as the image of Laurens disappear from my head and I turn my attention back toward the Sisters. The three blink at me, gawking at me like I’m some weird animal at the zoo. Peggy grins, raising both eyebrows as she crosses her forearms over her chest and leans back a little. She lifts one leg up and drapes it over her other leg. I shoot her a warning glare. I know she knows who exactly I am thinking.

“I think someone’s in love~” Peggy teases, smirking.

Eliza and Angelica eyes both widen as they whip their heads over their shoulders to meet their youngest sister’s teasing smirk. I feel my cheeks go warm and I notice Eliza’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. Perhaps she was thinking of me.

“What?!” I splutter. I shake my head. “No! No, I’m not!”

“Oh, come on, Alex!” Peggy says. “Don’t give me that crap! I know that look!”

“Just because I’m looking like I am doesn’t mean I am!” I snap, jabbing my finger at her.

All Peggy does is stick her tongue out at me. I roll my eyes, sticking my own tongue back at her.

“You two are literally children,” Angelica murmurs, rubbing her temples. She turns to me. “So, Alex. What’s wrong? You said you wanted someone to kill you.’"

“Oh, right,” I say. I make sure Laurens is no where near us or in the cafeteria for that matter and turn back to the Sister’s. I lean forward against the table with my arms folded over my chest. “John Laurens just asked me on an effing date.”

“No!” the girls gasp simultaneously.

“You’re joking right?” Eliza asks disbelievingly.

I shake my head. “Mhm. He asked me if I wanted to go with him to dinner and meet the guys, whoever they are. He mentioned Tilghman and Meade and Hale and I think Warren.” On instant, the girl’s eyes widen with realization and all three make an “Oh” sound as they nod their heads with understanding now.

“What?” I say stupidly.

“The guys,” Eliza says. “They’re also known as The Boys around here. They’re a huge friend group. Do what typical jocks do and stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” Peggy agrees. She starts to list their names off of her fingers. “There’s John, obviously, Tench Tilghman, Richard Kidder Meade or Meade for short, Harrison, McHenry, Nathan Hale, Alan Warren, Benjamin Tallmadge, and I think there’s someone else but I can’t remember.”

“Can’t remember what?” a familiar southern voice says, making me shiver instantly.

I swallow hard before slowly turning around to find John Laurens himself sitting down next to me, placing his tray before him gentler than I did.

“The Boys,” Peggy says, taking a swing of her Diet Coke before capping the lid on the bottle back on. “You know?”

“Oh, yeah,” Laurens says with a nod as he bites into his pepperoni pizza. “What about us?”

“I was telling Alex about you all,” Peggy says to me with a wink.

I shoot Peggy another glare, warning to be quiet, my freckled cheeks warming up incredibly fast.

“Oh?” Laurens says, arching an eyebrow as he turns to me.

“Yeah…” I mumble with a little awkward laugh, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

“Is that all?” Laurens asks.

I heave a sigh, running my nimble fingers through my auburn curls. “No. It’s just…I’ve never had a group of friends before. I don’t know…I don’t know what to expect or…yeah. The only friend I ever had is my brother, Laf. And…well….” I laugh a little. “I’m probably just being paranoid here but…I’ve never done something like this…alone…without Laf…and if he finds out about this…that I’m going out by myself with a bunch of teenage guys then…rest in peace me. I’m super dead.”

A pause. Laurens rests a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. I look down at it, confusedly for a moment before turning to face Laurens himself. He has a small smile on his face.

“It’s okay, Alex,” he assures me. “You’re not paranoid. We’ve all been there before. We’ve all had our first days here at King’s.”

“It’s not that…” I mutter, resting my forehead on my forearms again. “It’s Laf. You know? We always go everywhere with each other and now that he’s in France for college and I’m here in Manhattan all by myself…”

A pause. Laurens looks like he wants to say something but he can’t quite figure out how to. I can see the wheels in his brain churning, his eyes flickering up and down at me, chewing on the corner of his lip. The Sister’s also remain silent while they wait for someone to start a conversation.

“You two are close?” Laurens says finally. “You and Lafayette, I mean.”

I nod, my arms wrapped around my small, narrow frame and a fond smile as memories fill my mind. “Yeah. We are. We’re super close. Almost inseparable.”

Another round of silence.

“Don’t worry,” Laurens says, wrapping his strong arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards him comfortingly. I feel my eyes become wide a little as I lock my shocked gaze at the Sister’s, my eyes begging them to help me in a way. Peggy just smirks, so does Eliza and Angelica. I press my lips in a thin line, my freckled cheeks warming up as I watch Laurens’s hand rub my shoulder up and down comfortingly. “If they hurt you, don’t hesitate to tell me. I won’t hesitate to break their necks if they lay a hand on you.”

I press my lips together tighter and nod. “Mhm. Okay. But uh…thanks, John. But um…I can fight myself if it’s totally necessary. Laf kind of taught me self-defense for that reason.”

Laurens nods with understanding. “Ah. Right. Of course, he would have. But still.”

“But still,” I repeat quietly, staring down at my lunch tray before me.

After a few minutes, any train of thought I had suddenly disappears from my mind. The voices around me slowly drown out so all I hear are faint, distant, muffled voices around me rather than distinct clear ones. Laurens’s arm is still around my shoulders. I turn to him, still remaining quiet as the other four converse with each other. I smile fondly at him as he smiles widely, bursting with laughter at a joke Peggy said or a tale Eliza had shared. I still can’t keep my eyes off of that scar running along his cheek from the corner of his eye toward his jaw, faint but still visible. My fond smile slowly fades into a frown as I stare at his scar. I don’t know who had a rougher childhood. Me or Laurens.

“There he is!” says a voice coming from behind us.

I jolt a little in my seat with surprise as I whip my head over my shoulder to find a rather tall boy wearing a black leather jacket and a white shirt underneath it with black denim jeans. His sandy blonde hair swept to the side, his bangs combed in an arch, almost like a wave and the rest of his shoulder-length blonde hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail much like Laurens, a few strands of extra bangs dangle in front of his ear. He’s quite handsome if I must admit. He looks so similar to Laurens that I almost considered them as twins. They have the same rich blue eyes, the same golden blonde hair in the same hairstyle, the same angular face with sharp cheekbones and jawlines, broad shoulders and a muscular frame. He strides toward us in a graceful motion, almost like a dancer. He has the body of being one or perhaps being a football player. Behind the blue-eyed boy, however, is a younger boy perhaps around sixteen or seventeen. This one also has golden, blonde hair but it's short-cropped and disheveled. He has more of a square type face than angular with beautiful emerald green eyes and a snarky smirk on his face as he carries his lunch tray towards our table. The green-eyed boy wears a deep blue jacket with ivory black shirt underneath and instead of black, he wears light blue denim jeans and white Chuck Taylors. They’re both quite handsome, I should say.

“Alan! Nathan!” Laurens gasps, springing up from his seat on the bench and running towards his two friends to embrace them tightly.

The two boys return the hug and Laurens slings his arms around Alan’s and Nathan’s shoulders, guiding them towards our table. Nathan sits on the other the right side of me, while Laurens takes the left side of me and Alan sits next to him, in front of Peggy.

“How’ve you guys been?” Laurens asks, resting his folded arms on top of the table, glancing between Alan and Nathan.

“Pretty good,” Alan says, scooping up a spoonful of macaroni and cheese with his fork. “You know, John, we’ve legit just saw each other yesterday afternoon at practice.”

“I know,” Laurens says with a grin and a shrug. “It feels like forever though.”

“Um…John?” Eliza says, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” Laurens says, munching on his carrot stick.

“Um…aren’t you uh…going to introduce your friends to us?” Eliza asks sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

Laurens’s bright blue eyes lights up, twinkling against the afternoon sunlight shining through the cafeteria windows.

“Ah, yes!” Laurens says. “Alan? Nathan? These are my friends: the Schuyler Sisters.”

Laurens gestures towards the Sisters.

“Angelica,” he starts, gesturing toward Angelica who waves at the two boys. Laurens turns to Eliza next. “Eliza.” And then Peggy. “And—”

“And Peggy!” Peggy interrupts, puffing out her chest and placing her hands on her hips, looking proud and confident. She glowers at Laurens, jabbing her finger at him. “Don’t forget about Peggy.”

The rest of us chuckle.

“And this right here,” Laurens says, looking deep into my violet eyes, wrapping his strong arm around me again. I swear, it’s hot in here. “Is our new student: Alexander Hamilton. He just arrived here yesterday.”

And you’re already hitting on me, Laurens, I think miserably.

“A pleasure,” Nathan says, nodding at each of us in greeting. I nod back with a warm smile.

“You too,” I say, brushing back a loose dark auburn curl behind my almost absentmindedly.

“So, Alexander,” Alan says, taking an unhealthy swing of his Mountain Dew before clearing his throat and turning to face me. “Where’re you from? You don’t sound like you’re from New York. No offense or anything. Just curious.”

I swallow thickly. For a quick moment, the image of the hurricane floods through my mind. Waters rising up to my knees, lifeless, cold bodies floating throughout the murky waters, face down with their limbs bent in awkward angles. For a split second, the image of James enters my brain before I could push it away. He stands underneath the tree with a warm smile on his face while I stood there like an idiot and did absolutely nothing to save him. The tree branch snaps and I watch it fall, fall, fall, until it hit James’s head, causing him to topple forward into the water. Never to resurface again.

“Alex?” Laurens’s southern voice says, echoing through my head and causing me to blink back into reality.

“W-What?” I stutter, confused. I glance around the table, wondering why on Earth everyone is staring at me like I’m an animal being caged up in a zoo.

“You alright there, buddy?” Nathan asks. I turn to him and he rests a comforting hand on my shoulder. Though, I don’t find it comforting whatsoever.

“You uh…spaced out there a little,” Alan says.

I feel my cheeks flush, the blood rushing up to my temples as my eyes widen a little with realization. I nod slowly. “Oh. Oh, right. Um…yeah. I’m fine. What were we talking about?” “I asked where you were from?” Alan repeats cautiously, arching an eyebrow. “You don’t sound like you’re from New York.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not.” A pause. I look down at my tray. “I’m from the Caribbean. Nevis and then later St. Croix.”

“The Caribbean?” Nathan repeats, arching a curious eyebrow. “Must be nice there.”

I shake my head again, my eyes still trained on the tray before me, my arms still crossed over my chest, my lips pressed tightly together in a firm line.

“No?” Alan says.

“No,” I say. “It wasn’t. It was…I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s uh…let’s talk about tonight! O-Or even better about the Sister’s and their lives!”

I gesture toward the Sister’s.

“Okay…” Alan says slowly. He glances at Laurens, who shrugs with confusion, before turning back to me. “Um…what do you uh…want to know about tonight, Hammie?”

I try not to cringe at the nickname “Hammie.” I swallow the lump down my throat and run a hand through my auburn curl, huffing out a breath. I shoot Alan a glare and jab my finger at him.

“One, don’t call me that,” I say to Alan flatly, warningly. “Two uh…like um…what plans do you guys have after Applebee’s.”

“Well, um…,” Alan begins. “Tilghman’s throwing a party tonight around ten. It usually ends until midnight or one. But it’s a weekly thing we do.”

“A party?” I echo, looking unimpressed.

Alan nods. “Yeah. If you want all want to come.”

“I’m down,” Peggy says.

“No,” both Eliza and Angelica snap.

Peggy humphs, folding her arms over her chest and pouts. “Why not?”

“You’re underage, Pegs,” Angelica reminds her.

“So is Alex!” Peggy protests, gesturing towards me.

“I’ll be eighteen in a couple of months,” I say. I turn back toward Alan with a hesitant look on my face. “Is there um…will there be punch…”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Nathan says through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “There’ll be music, people obviously, a DJ of course, punch, pizza, snacks, you name it.”

“And a pool~” Alan says with a wink, nudging Laurens in the ribs.

“Yeah. Tench has like this gigantic pool in his backyard,” Nathan says.

“That’s where the hot girls are,” Alan says with a wink and smirk as he nods his head. “Eh?”

Laurens rolls his eyes. “Guys, come on. Lay off of him a bit. He just got here.”

“John’s right,” I say, patting Laurens’s shoulder. “I’m not ready to date. I’m still young. And single.”

“And ready to mingle,” Alan says flirtingly, winking and pointing finger guns at me.

Laurens heaves a frustrated sigh as I feel my freckled cheeks grow incredibly warm. I purse my lips together and duck my chin down. Laurens grows and pinches his friend’s earlobe. I couldn’t help but giggle with the others. Laurens, however, does not look amused whatsoever. He slowly cranes his neck a little, glaring daggers at Alan which made him shut up immediately. Before he could make a move, however, Alan yelps as Laurens reaches over and pinches his friend’s ear. He twists it. Pinching it tighter.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” Alan yelps, desperately trying to pry Laurens’s fingers off of his ear. Unfortunately, nothing works. Laurens looks smug, resting one forearm on the table and grinning from ear to ear as he pinches and twists Alan’s ear tighter. I couldn’t help but laugh along with the others, placing the back of my hand to my lips in hopes it will help stifle my little giggles. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” Alan keeps on yelping. He grimaces. “Okay! Okay! I give up! I give up! This is abuse! Ow! Stop that!”

“It’s not abuse,” Laurens sighs. “Chill.”

“I will chill if you let go of my ear!” Alan demands, shooting Laurens a dangerous look.

“Nope,” Laurens says with a sly grin on his face, popping out the “P.” He pinches Alan’s ear tighter.

“Ow! Hey!” Alan yelps. “I’m sorry, okay?! Geeze! I can barely feel my earlobe now!”

“Good,” Laurens says.

“So, Alexander,” Nathan says to me, wanting to change the subject.

I turn to him, still giggling while I shake my head and look Nathan dead in the eye. I arch an eyebrow, a sign for him to continue.

“You uh…you’re going to the party tonight? After practice and stuff?” Nathan asks. “That is…if you want to come, I mean.”

“I’ll have to ask George,” I say. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll let me go.”

“Who’s George?” says Alan.

I whip my head over my shoulder. Laurens’s still pinching Alan’s earlobe. I grin a little, puffing out my chest as I rest my forearms on the edge of the table and cross my ankles over each other underneath the bench. I turn to him.

“Washington,” I say.

“Washington? You mean, George Washington?” Alan asks. “Mr. Washington? The English teach?”

I nod. “Yep.”

“Why do you need ask him?” Nathan wonders.

“He’s my father.”

I watch amusingly as Alan and Nathan exchange confused glances with each other. After a few minutes of silence between them, their eyes lit up once it clicks. And then—

“Oh, shit!”

Chapter Text

AS SOON AS the bell rings, I spring up from the bench, grabbing my tray with me and dumping my unfinished lunch into the trash next to the entranceway. Laurens, Eliza, Angelica, Peggy, Alan, and Nathan follow suit. It kind of reminded me of “Follow the leader.” We make a left and I heave an annoyed sigh through my nose as we stand in front of the hallway shoulder-to-shoulder, as we look beyond the claustrophobic hallways. After a few minutes, we start walking.

“Well, um…it was nice meeting you, Alexander,” Alan says with a kind smile on his face. Charming but kind. I turn and notice that Laurens has finally let go of Alan’s ear. Poor Alan. He’s still massaging his poor little earlobe. Nathan walks around me to meet up with his friend. Alan slings his arm over Nathan’s shoulder. “But uh…we’ve got to get to class.”

“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “Understandable. It was a pleasure to meet you…” Just for fun, I add: “Prince Charming~”

Alan’s diamond blue eyes widen at the sudden nickname. He presses his lips together in a straight line and his pale cheeks reddens a little. I couldn’t help but chuckle with the others. Nathan just rolls his eyes, so does Laurens.

“Come on, you big doofus,” Nathan grumbles, grabbing his friend’s elbow and tugging him away from the group. “We got class. So does Alex.”

“You hear that, Hale?” Alan laughs, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder and taking one last look at me, memorizing my face, my every detail, before Nathan continues to drag him along. “He called me Prince Charming!”

“You’re such a child, Warren,” Nathan chuckles, shaking his head as they disappear around the corner.

Once they were gone, the five of us continue to meander through the halls. I grip my shoulder strap tighter as I puff out my chest and a triumphant grin appears on my face. I’ve never felt this confident in my life.

“Do you always flirt with everyone you see, Hamilton?” Peggy asks with a sly, teasing grin on her face as she jogs up to my side and nudges me in the elbow, winking as she does so.

I shrug. “I have my ways.”

“So,” Eliza begins. “We’ll see after you class, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Definitely.”

“Well,” Angelica says, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “We’ll see you two later.” She adds a wink before grabbing her sisters’ arms and forcing them to follow her down the hall and make a right toward whatever class they have next.

Now, it’s just Laurens and I in the hallway. Well, besides the clatter of students surrounding us that is. Laurens grins a little slyly as he grips his bookbag strap tighter, squaring his shoulders into a comfortable position before turning to me. Even though he tries to appear relax, he still looks tense. His jaw is set and his eyes are quavering, flickering around me, looking anywhere but in my direction. He stands unusually straight, like he’s already in the military and his commander stands before him and he won’t relax until his commander says calmly, “At ease, Laurens.”

“You alright?” I ask, resting a hand gently on his forearm and locking my violet eyes with his rich, sky-blue ones. “You look tense.”

“I’m fine,” Laurens assures me with a flash of an unconvincing reassuring smile. All teeth and lips. He looks me dead in the eye and he can tell I know he’s lying. I don’t need to say, “You’re lying.” He frowns and heaves a light sigh through his nose as we begin walking down the hall toward our lockers. He keeps his head down, staring at his shoes as we walk, our strides matching the other, our shoulders almost touching. “It’s just…my father…”

“What about him?” I ask, turning to glance at Laurens’s profile.

Laurens fidgets nervously. It appears he’s afraid to ask whatever it is he wants to ask. He glances at me for a breath before turning back toward what’s ahead of him. Laurens puckers his lips as though he’s tasted something sour and frowns deeper, causing creases to form at the edges of his lips. He licks his lips and then lets his teeth sink into his bottom lip. He swallows thickly, setting his sharp, angular jaw. He tightens his grip on his bookbag strap that’s over his shoulder, so tight his knuckles turn white.

“It’s just…the stress of him, you know? I just…I don’t know. I don’t know, Hamilton. It’s just…I know I’m still young, but he’s already pressuring me into proposing and marrying the woman I don’t love.” Laurens frowns, glancing back down at his feet. “I want…I want to be the best son. I want to be a good son to him, a son he can praise and boast about to other people…a son that people can admire and people can say to my father: ‘You raised him well.’ You know? I just…I want to make him proud. I want…I want a lot of things from him but…I’m not.”

I remain silent, still glancing at Laurens’s profile as we continue walking down the hall. My heart clenches with pity and sympathy. I never knew what it’s like to truly have a father so I don’t know if I can say I know how he feels. I want to reach out and hold him, as Laurens looks on the verge of tears. I can see his chin wobbling as he tries desperately to keep a calm composure. I can hear his words crack up at the end of each sentence. I want to comfort him but I don’t know how. So, I don’t say anything. I just keep quiet as I let Laurens ramble on.

“It’s…it’s too much, you know? I’m still young and I have a full life ahead of me. And my father, a member of Congress, a senator, wants me to marry a girl I don’t love. I just…I want to be normal, you know? I want this…this…thing inside me gone. I grew up believing that being what I am is wrong…is…is a—”

“Don’t say it,” I say sternly, suddenly stopping a few feet behind Laurens in my tracks. I clench my jaw, tightening my grip around my shoulder strap. Laurens skids to a stop when he realizes I’m no longer following him. He slowly turns around to face me. He wraps his muscular arms around himself, tucking his hands underneath his armpits as he slowly walks toward me. When he stands in front of me, I feel like an ant compared to him. He’s at least a head or two taller than me. I’m up to his chest and collarbone standing face to face with him. Laurens’s bright blue eyes pierces into me, pinning me to my spot. He frowns, his brows drawing together as a crease forms in his forehead with confusion written all over his chest. I swallow hard before letting out a shaky breath.

“Don’t you dare say it,” I hiss, narrowing my eyes up at his. I have to tilt my head back a little. “It’s not a sin, John. It’s not. Love is love is love, John. It doesn’t matter how old you are or what gender you are or what background you have, etcetera. You deserve to be happy, John. And if you love another person as the same gender as you and if that person you love treats you well and makes you happy then that’s all that matters. To me, at least.”

A pause. Laurens frowns even deeper, still locking eyes with me. He doesn’t seem relaxed yet. I walk toward him so our chests are almost touching. Laurens adverts his gaze from my face towards my own arms that are wrapped around my own, fragile, delicate frame.

“John, look at me,” I say.

It takes him a few minutes but he finally lifts his head and looks down at me. I rest a hand on his forearm gently, rubbing it up and down comfortingly. Laurens doesn’t meet my eyes, he shifts his own toward my hand resting on his arm. I smile softly, kindly.

“You are not what your father says you are,” I whisper. “You are more than that. You’re being brave, John. Just telling me these things…that’s a big step. Just yesterday, you trusted me with the fact that you were gay—” he winces but I ignore it. “That’s also a big step. And I told you I supported you and I do. You’re brave, John. You’re brave just by telling me these things! If I were in your position, I wouldn’t even find the courage to do that. That’s incredible to me.”

A pause. I look up from Laurens’s chest to find that his crystal blue eyes are starting to tear up as he tries to keep a calm look. He bites his lip harder. I know I’m helping, but I’m helping him emotionally. I smile a little wider.

“You are not what your father says you are, John,” I say again. “If you don’t love Martha, then break up with her. Don’t let your father’s beliefs control you, John.” A pause. “I’ve never truly had a father, so I don’t know if I’m helping any, but this is what I want you to do: I want you to go up to your father and say with determination and with meaning: ‘I’m done with this crap. I’m my own person. I can love who I want and it won’t change who I am. I am your son, yes, but I’m not a thing you can control. I deserve to be happy. I’m done.’”

Laurens stares at me with a blank expression on his face before letting out a quivering breath, shaking his head vigorously. He chokes on his words as he speaks. “I…I can’t…” he breathes. “I can’t.” He chokes up. “I can’t do it. As much as I want to…as much as I want to break up with her… I can’t.” He lets out another quivering breath. “You have no idea, Alexander. You have no idea how cruel this man can be…how terrifying he is.” A pause. “If I break up with Martha, I’m dead. Literally. He’ll kill me.”

Another pause.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Alexander. I appreciate your kind and encouraging words. I appreciate your support in me, but I just…I can’t do it. I can’t.” Another pause. I don’t meet Laurens’s teary blue eyes. I close my own eyes for a moment before slowly reopening them. Laurens blinks his own eyes, his jaw set and shoulders squared. He swallows thickly, letting out another shaky breath. He runs a hand stressfully through his light golden blonde hair.

“Yes, you can,” I say, stepping closer to him. “We’ll do it together.”

Laurens shakes his head.

“John…please,” I say, my voice mewing. “You’re my friend. I want to help you. I want to help become free. Please, let me help you…”

A pause. Students around us walk around us, bumping into our shoulders and mumbling quiet apologies and some chatter loudly, laughter echoes through the claustrophobic hallways, lockers being sprung open and slammed shut, shoes smacking against the white tiled floors as students race to their classes, afraid they might be late. Laurens looks me deep in the eyes, searching for something. Then, my heart swells as I see the corners of his lips turn upward slightly. He nods, one sharp, confident nod. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
***
I called Martha as Laurens and I exited the school building and let her know that I’m staying over at Laurens’s place for a few hours. I told her I should be back by ten or at the latest. I had already informed her that Laurens was taking me to dinner to meet up with the rest of his friends. I didn’t, however, tell her about the party, and that I had already let George know before we left the building. I follow Laurens through the parking lot of the school, gripping my shoulder straps tightly as I jog up to catch up to him. Laurens reaches the driver’s side door of his deep blue Ford Taurus. He unlocks it and climbs inside the driver side door.

I buckle myself up, getting myself into a comfortable position and turn to face Laurens’s profile. Laurens digs his teeth into his bottom lip and hesitates, his fingers drum against the steering wheel as he inhales deeply and slowly exhales. He stares with narrowed blue eyes at the vehicle in front of him, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. I put my hand on his shoulder comfortingly, smiling softly at him.

Laurens turns to look at me for just a moment and smiles weakly before turning back toward the car in front of us. He inhales sharply through his nose again, his soft, pink lips tight, and slowly exhales. He licks his lips and nods, starting the car up.

“Okay,” he says, adjusting the radio to find a station he likes. “I can do this. Just uh…I just need to break up with Martha first.”

I nod. “Is your father here in Manhattan?”

Laurens reaches his arm behind my chair and glances over his arm to make sure there are no cars coming behind him as he slowly backs out of the parking lot. “No. I don’t think so, anyways. Last time I checked, he was still in South Carolina when I left.”

My heart stops. “You mean…you haven’t seen your father since…”

Laurens nods as he puts the car in the drive. “Yep. Since the year before nineth grade, which made me…what…? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

“You’re not going to visit him?” I say a little suspiciously.

Laurens arches an eyebrow as his cold, icy blue eyes skirt over to me while his face remains in front. “After what he’s done to me? Nuh-uh. Nope.”

“Oh, come on, John!” I whine. “At least give him a chance? Maybe he’s changed!”

Laurens slams his foot on the breaks when we reach the stop sign, causing me to jerk forward a little in my seat and nearly choke against my seatbelt. Laurens turns to me slowly, an eyebrow raised.

“Really?” Laurens says. “What would you do, Alexander, if your father just suddenly waltzed back into your life after I don’t know how many years of separation? Hm? Would you forgive him so easily?”

I don’t say anything.

“Hm?” Laurens says. “Do you honestly think that man will change after all the things he has done to me? Beat me senseless. Beat me until I couldn’t feel my own effing back? Threatened me? Used me as punching bag? Kicked me out, forced me to live on my own when I was just barely a teenager? Forced me to marry a girl I don’t love?”

Silence.

Laurens blinks once before turning his head sharply back towards the front.

“Exactly.”

We remain silent for the rest of the ride.

***

We pull up to Laurens’s apartment complex parking lot. The parking lot is surprisingly crowded for a Tuesday afternoon, when people are still at work and all. Laurens parks his car and unlocks the door. I unbuckle myself and swing the strap to my bookbag over my shoulder as I kick the passenger side door open. I follow Laurens through the parking lot and up the sidewalk toward his apartment complex door. He presses the button and the metal automatic doors slide open. The doors are a strange color. They’re silver, but in the glint of the afternoon sunlight, it makes the doors look more like blue than silver.

The doors swing open with a ding and I follow Laurens inside. I pull out my phone from my bookbag, texting George and Martha to let them know I’m alright and safe with Laurens himself. I click my phone after sending the message to them and tuck it away safely inside my bookbag pocket. I watch the arrow next to the numbers go up, up, up, and up until the button which reads 5 turns a bright white. The elevator makes me shift a little when it starts to go up, up, up towards the fifth floor. Laurens and I remain six feet apart. I have my side against the wall, my arms folded over my chest and my ankles crossed over the other. Laurens stands across the elevator on the other side of the wall in the same position as me. We ride in silence.

I drum my finger against the metal wall behind me and start humming as I wait for the elevator to stop rising. Laurens will occasionally shoot me a hard glare, well, more like an annoyed glare, but he doesn’t say anything.

After a few more minutes of unbearable silence, the elevator finally comes to a stop with a ding and it slides its metal doors open. Laurens kindly gestures me to walk out first and I did. He follows suit shortly after. It doesn’t take him long for him to catch up to me, or to walk right past me for that matter.

I keep my hands in my jean pockets as I follow Laurens down a series of hallways and staircases. I wonder just how big his apartment is. I look out the window beside us, looking at my reflection in the glass. There’s a metal rail that separates the window from me. I put my hand on it, using it to guide me almost. Outside, the sky is a perfect blue. No clouds in sight. Birds caw and chirp their songs as they flap their wings, flying up and up, over the sea that lays before us. In the distance, and around the corner of the window, I can see hotels, apartments, townhouses, skyscrapers all lined up in various heights and smushed together. Faintly, I can see the cars zooming down the highway below us and a few more buildings around the corner and off to the back around the sea. The buildings all make one giant curve around the sea. I follow Laurens up the stairs. We’re still silent. We haven’t spoken a word since we entered the apartment complex. I have to jog to keep up with Laurens. Stupid long legs.

“So, uh…this is your apartment?” I ask, wanting to break the silence desperately. I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Mhm,” Laurens hums with a nod. He glances at me over his shoulder for just a second before turning his attention towards the front. His blue eyes, blue as the sky next to us, narrow and his jaw is set. He frowns with determination as he focuses on his task. “Just a few more halls to go and then make a left and there you have it.”

We reach a silver, metal door. I stand a few inches behind him, my narrow chin just above his shoulder as I watch him with curious eyes, pressing a button on the side. The metal door slides open after the ding is heard and I hastily follow Laurens in. As soon as I enter Laurens’s apartment, the metal door slides shut with a soft clink. I scan the area, closely following Laurens, when I skid to a stop.

It’s beautiful. It feels more like a penthouse than an apartment. I see a fish take carved into the brick wall to my left. I notice there’re a few gold fish and a few turtles as well. Next to the tank, is what appears to be a pool of a sort. Though, it’s too small to be a pool. I can see water flowing in it clearly, a beautiful, deep blue. Not exactly the color of the sky, nor the color of the sea. Rich and vibrant. Electric. In my peripheral, I see Laurens flipping on the light switch and swiping a remote off the marble counter in the kitchen and presses a button. On instant, the blinds roll up when Laurens presses the button, letting in the afternoon sunlight. All the lights flicker on at once.

I enter the living room, where there is a long, leather brown sofa and a seventy-five-inch television mounted on the wall. The fire place starts up and it crackles against the logs behind the gates, instantly warming me. I see a long, marble black coffee table with stacks of papers and a closed laptop with pens and highlighters scattered everywhere. This must be where Laurens did his homework the previous night. And…oh… A piano. My heart clenches and it swells as I remember my mother standing beside me with her hands on mine as she taught my French while doing piano. It was the best I could learn.

Before I could stop myself, I find my stiff legs moving toward it. It’s a beautiful white grand piano, the lid opened up revealing the beautiful strings that comes from the white keys. I run my fingers over the smoothness of the polished instrument. It glistens against the sun, making it look almost like snow.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Laurens’s southern voice fills the room, startling me.

I yelp, jerking my hand back and spinning around on my heels with wide, violet eyes. Laurens smiles a little as he slowly strides toward me and it’s then that I realize it’s the first time I have seen him smile since we left the school. I turn back towards the piano, glancing all around me, breathtaking, and in complete awe. I’m speechless.

“Beautiful?” I say, turning around to face Laurens with a confused look. Shock still written in my eyes. “John…this…this is incredible! How…how could you afford such a place?”

Laurens shrugs, flopping himself down on the couch. “I’m rich. Perks of having a father as a member of Congress.”

A pause.

“Have a seat, Alex,” Laurens says, patting an empty spot next to him on the couch. “I won’t be taking you home until around ten. We’ll be leaving here for dinner in about two hours from now and the party at Tilghman’s after that.” Another pause. “That is…if you still want to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely,” I say. “Always good to try something new. And as long as you don’t drink. I can’t drive.”

Laurens curses. “Dang it. Well, when do you get your license, Alex?”

“In about a year or so. When I’m eighteen,” I say.

Laurens nods, his mouth making an “O” shape with understanding. We sit in awkward silence after that. I couldn’t help but keep on glancing at Laurens, at his honey blonde hair still pulled back into a loose ponytail, letting a few strands of hair fall in front of his icy blue eyes. His face is angular still, sharp cheekbones and a sharp jawline, hooked nose and a short, rounded chin. Thin dark blonde eyebrows furrowed together slightly, forming a crease in his forehead as he ponders about something. His thin, pink lips frowning with thought as he interlaces his long fingers together, hunching over slightly as he rests his arms on his thighs. The scar on his left cheek, faint but visible.

“So,” Laurens says, his blue eyes sliding towards me. “How am I going to break up with her? Martha, I mean?”

To be fairly honest, I have no idea. I’ve never been in a relationship before, though I’ve watched plenty of television shows like The Bachelor with this type of situation. I chew on the very edge of my lip, occasionally flickering my eyes toward his and then back at my fidgeting fingers playing with the end of my cuffs. Laurens gives me a look I can’t quite read.

“You don’t know, do you?” Laurens says tersely with a raised eyebrow.

I huff out a breath, sliding my hand over my face, letting my skin drag along with it. “I’m sorry, John. I really don’t know. I’ve never been in a relationship before so…I don’t know to what to expect. I want to help you, I truly do. But I just…I don’t know how to break up with someone. I…I’m sorry, John…”

Laurens stares at me coldly for the longest moment. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. He just pins me to the spot on the couch so it’s as if I’m still as a statue. I press my lips together in a straight line as Laurens still gawks at me. I wait for his inevitable outburst. We just came all this way for nothing.

Laurens stands up sharply from the couch, startling me. I grimace when I see his fists clench at his sides and his jaw clenches. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing sharply in and out of his nose as he tries to control his temper. After a few tense moments of unbearable silence, Laurens storms out of the room and into what I assume is his own bedroom down the hall and off to the left. I wince when I hear the door slam shut behind him.

I look around my surroundings.

It’s quiet.

It’s cold.

It’s dark.

I’m alone.

Again.

I’m back where I started.

Chapter Text

LAURENS HASN’T COME out of his bedroom for quite some time now. It’s been roughly three hours since I last saw him, nearly five o’clock in the evening now. We’re not supposed to leave for dinner until around six. I sit on the couch with my knees drawn to my chest, my feet on the edge of the couch, my arms wrapped around my knees to hold them in place and my chin resting behind my kneecaps. I close my eyes gently for a minute. I wish Lafayette were here. He’d know exactly what to do. But he’s not. He’s not here. I have to learn how to things on my own. That’s what life is all about: going trials and errors. Sometimes you’ll succeed, sometimes you won’t. Sometimes you’ll fail and that’s okay. We can learn to fix our mistakes and to keep going. I frown deeper, slowly opening my violet eyes to find the blankness of the television screen and the fire starting to die down. I glance over my shoulder back at Laurens’s closed bedroom door. He’s been in there for quite some time…I should go check on him. So, that’s what I do.

I sigh heavily, long and slow as I push myself up off the couch. I slowly walk to his bedroom, taking my time and trying not to disturb him. I stop just in front of his door, my arms still wrapped around my small, feminine like frame. I listen, pressing my ear against the door to see if I can hear what he’s doing. I frown again, this time with curiosity. I can hear him talk to someone on the phone. His voice is muffled behind the door, but I can hear him nonetheless. I can faintly hear the other person on the other end of the line as well. He must have the caller on speaker. I can hear his footsteps against his floor and I can hear how panicky he sounds, how anxious he sounds. How terrified he sounds. I think he’s pacing back and forth as he talks, probably occasionally running a hand through his honey blonde hair like I notice he would do whenever he’s fidgety or anxious.

“…I want to break up with her, Marty!” I hear Laurens’s voice on the other end of the door. I furrow my brows together. Marty? “I can’t stand this anymore! I don’t love her!” A pause as “Marty” says something on the other end of the line.

“You don’t get it!” Laurens snaps, his tone sharp and cold. His country accent rolling off of his tongue so easily. I can’t decide if he’s doing it on purpose or on accident. “I don’t love her how hard is that for you to understand! I never loved her! You’re supposed to be my sister! You’re supposed to support me—”

A pause.

“Oh, don’t you use Mom against me, Martha! Don’t you dare play that card! I supported you when you first introduced me to your boyfriend!” Another pause. I hear Laurens groan. “I thought you were on my side, Martha! Not Henry’s!”

Ah. Marty, short for Martha and Henry. Laurens’s father: Henry Laurens. I never met the man in person, though I have seen him on television on the news and whatnot.

I can hear Laurens’s outburst dying down somewhat as he slowly begins to calm down. I can hear the bed creak as he flops himself down on it. I wish I could be in there to comfort him. But I wouldn’t know how.

“I’m sorry, Marty,” Laurens sighs. “It’s just…it’s ridiculous, you know? I just…I don’t love Manning. I love him.”

My eyes widen a little. Him. He couldn’t be talking about me, could he? Surely, he could be talking about someone else… I press my ear harder against the cold, metal door, my heart racing against my chest.

“No…no, he’s not like Francis. He’s…he’s something else. He’s…different. He’s unique. He’s mysterious. He’s special. He’s…kind and sweet and he supports me—”

I stop breathing for a second, my eyes widening a little wider than before.

“Well, maybe I’ll come down one day like during winter break and y’all can meet ‘em. Or better yet, y’all can come upstate to Manhattan and come visit me and can meet ‘em then.” A pause. “Yes, Martha. Relax.” Another pause. I can hear Laurens sit up in his bed. “Well, I’ll try my best to describe him but trust me when I say he is just…he is just the most beautiful person I had ever laid my eyes on.”

I suck in a huge gulp of air and hold it there as I brace myself. Could Laurens really be falling for me? I’m not even… well, okay, I’ll admit, Laurens himself is kind of hot but still! I’m still young and I’m not ready. I grip my elbows, my fingers clawing into my skin and my teeth sinking into my lip, hard enough for it to draw blood as I listen to Laurens slowly describing me to Martha.

“Well,” Laurens begins. I can hear a loopy grin play on his face. “He has dark auburn hair usually pulled back into a low ponytail like me. And it has a natural curl to it, his hair I mean, so it kind of looks like a wave as it falls over his eyebrow and behind his ear. He’s small for his age in my opinion, he’s at least a head shorter than I am. Standing in front of him, he’s up to my chest. He has these little freckles over his cheeks, kind of reminds me of the stars in the night sky. He’s…he’s got these beautiful violet eyes that I could get lost into all day. He’s…he kind of reminds me of a lion how he stands, how he puffs out his chest and how his words are like a lion’s roar and his auburn hair reminds me of a lion’s mane. He’s beautiful, Martha.”

That word rings in my head over and over again. Beautiful…beautiful…beautiful…

“I know, I know,” Laurens laughs and I smile fondly a little when I hear his short chuckle. “How old is he? Well, he uh…he appears to be a year younger than I am. So, about seventeen. He’s Washington’s boy.”

Another pause.

“His name?” Laurens says questionably. I can feel him grinning widely. “His name’s Alexander. Alexander Hamilton.”

I don’t know how long it’s been since I heard my name roll off Laurens’s tongue, how long it’s been since I stand here next to his bedroom door with shock written all over my face. I only known Laurens for two days now and he’s…he’s already fallen for me? No, no. Surely, he met another person named Alexander Hamilton. Yeah, yeah. That has to be! Before I could make a move however, Laurens ends his call with his sister and his bedroom door slides open, causing me to tumble into his bedroom. I lay on the cold, tiled floor of his bedroom in front of Laurens’s feet. I stare at his shoes, my lips pressed together as my heart races against my chest with anxiety. I can’t look at him. I can feel his electric blue eyes turn into a deep gray color, almost stormy as he stares down at me. I can tell he has his arms crossed over his chest and a scolding look on his face. Well, it’s more like anger than scolding.

We don’t say anything for a long time. It must have been forty minutes or so until Laurens finally grumbles, “How much did you hear?”

I swallow thickly, slowly lifting my head up from the cold floor up to his stormy eyes. Yep. Anger. I swallow again as I slowly start to stand up. I don’t answer his question.

“Answer me, Alexander,” Laurens demands in this scarily sweet tone that makes me freeze in place. “How much did you hear?”

I press my lips together tighter, licking them as I lock my eyes with his. I take a few deep, shaky breaths before fully standing up. I have to tilt my head back just a little to look him dead in the eye. I stand firm, my arms close to my sides and my fists tight, shoulders squared, back straight, jaw set, eyes narrowed slightly. Laurens appears stiff, tensed. He has one eyebrow raised, his chin ducked toward his chest as he stares down at me, pinning me to the ground with those stormy eyes. A pointed look. He has his muscular arms over his chest, a scowl paints over his face.

“How much did you hear, Alexander,” Laurens says, punctuating each syllable through gritted teeth. He blinks his eyes repeatedly. I swallow again.

“Not all of it…” I say quietly, not meeting his eyes now.

A pause.

“Out,” Laurens snaps coldly.

This catches my attention. I jerk my head up, confused.

“What?”

“Out,” he repeats, darker than before. His voice sounds like a low rumble in his throat. He points towards his open bedroom door behind my back.

“Jack—”

“Don’t call me that!” Laurens booms. “Get. Out!”

Laurens stomps toward me. I stare at him, shocked. Why’s Laurens acting like this?

“John, what—”

“How much did you hear, Hamilton?” he says, walking scarily close toward me that I have to take a large step back.

I heave a sigh, looking down at my feet, away from his stormy eyes. I swallow hard. “Enough. I heard enough, John.”

Silence. Laurens sighs long and slow through his nose, closing his eyes gently and pinching the bridge of his nose. He walks back into his room, flopping down on his bed. He sighs again, running his hand through his light, golden blonde hair and huffing out a breath, his cheeks puffing out as he does so. I lean against the doorframe for a moment, my arms folded over each other as I stare at him. He keeps his head down in shame and embarrassment and interlaces his fingers together and resting his forearms on his thighs, hunching over. He stares blankly, emotionlessly at the space between his feet.

After a few minutes, I finally force my legs to move toward him. I sit down on the bed next to him, my arms still wrapped around my small frame and I turn to him, eyeing his profile. Laurens doesn’t lift his gaze off the floor. I don’t take my eyes off of him.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” I apologize. Laurens’s eyes flicker toward me, arching an eyebrow. I wait a moment before continuing. “I was just curious as to what was going on. I was starting to get worried. I mean, you’ve been in here for quite some time and I wanted to make sure everything was alright. Is all…”

Silence.

I can still feel Laurens’s eyes on me as I turn to face the window across his room, staring at the skyline, at my fainted reflection in the glass. In my peripheral, I see Laurens roll up his sleeve a little to reveal his watch. He sighs and lets his sleeve slide down over it. He fully turns to me, causing me to fully turn to him. Our eyes lock. Laurens smiles a little. “We should get going,” Laurens mumbles. He pushes himself up off the bed, dusting his hands together and smoothing out his jeans.

“We’ll be late for dinner.” He extends his hand out toward me, that charming grin reappearing on his face.

“You coming?”

I smile a little and gently place my hand in his and nod. Laurens helps me up to my feet and guides me towards the door, a firm hand on my back. Laurens turns around and the door slowly clicks shut behind him.

***

We arrive at the Applebee’s parking lot about a half-hour later. Laurens huffs out a breath as he parks the car, turning off the vehicle and unbuckling himself. I unbuckle myself as well and kick the passenger side door open and slamming it shut with my hip, dusting my hands. I follow Laurens across the street and into the restaurant. Laurens told me not long ago that Tilghman and some of the others should be here already. The bell chimes uncomfortably loud as Laurens swings the door open for me. I feel my face grow warm as I walk in, thanking him. Laurens nods as he makes sure no one else is coming in after us and closes the door behind him.

“Hi, welcome to Applebee’s,” says the woman up at the front as we enter. She’s young, perhaps nineteen or twenty, with porcleian skin and rich dark brown eyes that matches her brunette hair which is tied up in a small, low bun. “How many are there of you today?”

“My friend should already be here. His name is Tench Tilghman?” Laurens says.

“Ah, yes,” the woman replies, waving her hand like she’s swatting at a fly. “Go on.”

Laurens mumbles a quiet “thank you” before leading me down a small ramp and towards the middle of the room where a hand pops up out of nowhere. Laurens grins a little, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and guiding me towards the table.

“There he is!” Tilghman bellows, springing up from his chair. Laurens smiles widely, causing me to smile a little, as I watch from behind. Laurens embraces his friend tightly and sits down across from Tilghman. Tilghman engulfs me in a tight embrace too. I try not to grimace.

“Alexander! You came!” Tilghman says as he slowly pulls away.

I shrug. “Of course, I would. I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Ah, that you did,” Tilghman laughs, sitting back down.

I plop myself down and scoot myself closer to the polished, rectangular table. Laurens passes me a menu and I thank him, flipping it open and searching for the drinks. “Where’s Meade and the others?” Laurens asks Tilghman.

Tilghman glances up from his menu with both eyebrows raised. “He’s on his way. He had pick up Tallmadge, Harrison, and McHenry. He just texted me a few minutes ago and said he should be here shortly.”

The three of us scan the menus in our hands in silence. Once Tilghman has figured out what he wants to order, he slams his menu shut, causing both Laurens and I to jolt in our seats.

“So, Alexander,” Tilghman says as I scan through the list of burgers on the menu.

I look up a little from my menu, arching eyebrow as a gesture for Tilghman to continue.

“How’re you uh…liking it here at King’s?” Tilghman asks.

“Oh,” I say, fully giving him all my attention. I totally wasn’t expecting that question. I blink a couple of times and then shrug. “It’s alright. Not as bad as I thought it would be.” Tilghman scoffs. “Yeah.” A pause. “So, uh…tell me about yourself, Hamilton.”

I hear something knock against the post under the table which supports it, causing our silver wear to jingle a little. I glance at Laurens, arching an eyebrow and I couldn’t help but smirk. Laurens narrows his eyes at Tilghman, giving his friend a warning glare.

“Tench,” Laurens growls with a pointed look. “Be nice.”

Tilghman tosses both hands up in the air, letting his dinner menu drop onto the table. “What? I’m just sayin’! I don’t know much about the boy and I’m just genuinely curious, John! For all I know, this boy could be a serial killer!”

“Really?” Laurens says. “You honestly think that Hamilton is a serial killer?”

“It’s a possibility!” Tilghman protests.

“If I were a serial killer, don’t you think I would’ve killed John by now?” I ask, resting my arms on the table, pressing my chest against the edge and leaning forward slightly, arching an eyebrow.

“Gotcha there, Tench,” Laurens says.

As soon as Tilghman opens his mouth to protest, a voice shouts throughout the restaurant. I jolt up a little in my seat, whipping my head around over my shoulder to find Meade, and two others I haven’t met yet standing in the doorway. Meade waves his arms frantically, a loopy grin on his face. Laurens groans embarrassingly, rolling his eyes as his friends jogs down the steps and toward our table.

“John! Alex!” Meade says with a beaming smile on his face. He embraces Laurens first and then me before pulling a chair next to Tilghman out and flopping himself down on the chair. The first boy, who appears to be nineteen with Carmel blonde hair and dark brown eyes that are almost black and an angular face, though it’s more rounded than angular. He has his hair short-cropped and a natural curve covers his right eyebrow and dips behind his ear. He’s lean and muscular, expected from a football player. He wears his football jersey half tucked in and half out, along with a pair of denim blue jeans and a watch on his wrist. The Carmel blonde hair boy flops himself down next to me while the second boy sits next to Tilghman.

This one has beautiful golden bronze hair pulled back into a low, loose ponytail, letting the bangs hang loose in front of his ears, framing his features, with these electric dark jade green eyes and a stubble chin and sharp cheekbones. He’s handsome, that’s for sure. He also reminds me of a Disney prince, though I can’t figure out exactly which prince he should be. As he sits down in his chair, it suddenly comes to me. Face up, he kind of looks like Prince Philip from Aurora. Or Prince Charming from Cinderella, the live action film one. He looks scarily close to him.

“My…Laurens…” says Prince Charming from in front of me. Laurens arches an eyebrow, glancing up from his menu. “How on Earth did you get such a beauty!”

I glance at Laurens who locks eyes with me. He shrugs before I turn my attention back to Prince Charming. Prince Charming is already up from his seat by the time I turn around. I frown, confused for a moment as to where he could have gone when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I gasp and whip my head to find Prince Charming standing in front of me. He smiles genuinely, kindly as he bows like an actual prince and grabs hold of my hand. I swear, it suddenly got ten times hotter in here. In my peripheral, I can see Meade and the others smirking, even Laurens. I notice then that Prince Charming even has a twinge of British accent in his voice. I feel my eyes widen as Prince Charming lifts my hand in his up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of my knuckles, one arm behind his back as he bows.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Prince Charming says. “William McHenry. At your service.”

“U-U-Um…uh…um…” I breathe, clearly flustered. I lower my hand as he stands back up straight. “A-A-Alex…A-Alexander…A-Alexander H-Hamilton…a-a pleasure to-to meet y-you.”

“And to you too, Mr. Hamilton,” McHenry says, his British accent becoming thick as he walks back to his chair. He scoots himself up and flips open his menu, never taking his eyes off of me. “So, Mr. Hamilton, have you uh…have you been treating our Laurens well?”

“Will,” Laurens says with a laugh. “Calm down, will ya? You’re scaring the poor boy!”

“Well,” McHenry says with a shrug. “Not my fault my charms get the best of me.”

Laurens chuckles along with Meade and the other boy.

“See? What’d I tell ya?” McHenry says, tossing both hands up in the air and folding his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever you say, Will,” Laurens mumbles. He leans over my shoulder, arching an eyebrow and whispers, “Figured out what you want to eat yet, Ham?”

I nod. “Oh, yeah. Going with a burger that’s for sure.”

Laurens chuckles and nods. “Good choice.”

“Robert Hanson Harrison,” interrupts Prince Philip. I turn to him and he extends out his hand for me to shake. “I don’t believe we’ve met as well. A friend of John’s. A pleasure to meet you Alexander.”

I smile kindly up at him, shaking his hand firmly. “You too, Robert.”

“So, Alexander,” McHenry says, clapping his hands together to get our attention. “Tell us about yourself. Laurens said you were new to the school.”

“Ah, yes,” I say. “He’s right about that. Um…I’m from the Caribbean. I love to write. There isn’t a lot of things I like to do but writing is defienetly one of them. I wish to go to Columbia University after high school and get a degree in law.”

“Ooh, politics!” Tilghman says. “I like that.”

“Always reading the news this one,” McHenry grumbles, patting his friend’s shoulder.

“So, are you two…uh…” Harrison says, gesturing towards Laurens and I with his hands. “Um…are you two together?”

“Together?” Laurens says. “What do you mean by together?”

“You know…” Harrison says. “As in…together, together…”

Mine and Laurens’s eyes both flew wide open, giving Harrison an accusing look. Laurens growls and whacks Harrison with his napkin.

“WHAT?!” Laurens shrieks. I grimace, actually putting my hands up to my ears. The others grimace as well. Laurens whacks Harrison with his napkin again. “Are you kidding me? No! No! No! We’re not together! Why…why…why on Earth would you think that!” Laurens keeps on whacking Harrison against the back of his head with his napkin.

“This is going to be a long night…” Meade murmurs, shaking his head as he watches Laurens swatting his napkin at poor Harrison and poor Harrison tries to protect himself with his arms over his head.

I couldn’t agree less.

Chapter Text

WE ARRIVE AT Tilghman’s place within minutes. Dinner was absolutely delicious. I had the All-American Burger and I demolished that thing. Fries and Dr. Pepper included. My tongue still tastes like meat and grease. Laurens pulls up to Tilghman’s apartment and parks the car, coming to a sudden holt. I jolt a little against the seatbelt but other than that I remain perfectly fine. I follow Laurens and unbuckle myself before grabbing my phone off the charger and kicking the passenger side door open. I can hear music booming from inside Tilghman’s apartment and people whooping and laughing. I swallow hard, staring at the house with wide eyes as I wrap my thin arms around my small, narrow frame. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. Well, here we go.

“You sure you want to do this, Alex?” Laurens asks as we cross the parking lot towards the sidewalk and walk in a line between cars. He arches an eyebrow, eyeing me worriedly. “I feel like I’m pressuring you into doing this…”

“Yes,” I say, turning to face Laurens as we walk. “I want to do this, John.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can take you back home—”

“No.” I say it flatly, almost tersely. I narrow my eyes at him. “I want to do this, John. I’m seventeen. I’m old enough to make my own decisions! I’m not a puppy who needs to be watched all the time!”

“Right, right,” Laurens says, pursing his lips together. “You’re right. My apologies. It’s just…if something were to happen to you, Lafayette would surely kill me.”

I grimace at the mention of my adoptive brother’s name and my heart clenches, so it suddenly feels hard to breathe. I can feel my throat burning as I exhale shakily out my mouth, my eyes blinking. I still haven’t gotten a message from him, letting me know I close my eyes for just a moment.

“Can…Can we not talk about him?” I whimper. “Please?”

Laurens frowns. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”

We walk in silence. I keep my head down, watching my feet stepping one foot in front of the other, my arms around myself. Laurens walks ahead of me and up to the door. I hop onto the curb of the sidewalk and follow him. We reach the white door and Laurens raps his knuckles against the wood three times and steps back a little. I stand just behind his shoulder.

“You don’t have to drink or talk anyone if you don’t want to,” Laurens says, glancing at me over his shoulder. He shrugs. “You can just sit for all I care.”

I roll my violet eyes. “John, relax. I’ll be fine. I’ll text you if I need anything.”

Laurens nods just as the door swings open. He turns his attention back toward the door and grins. It isn’t Tilghman who opens the door, it’s a boy with dirty blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, letting a few bangs dangle in front of his dark brown eyes. He has a faint peach fuzz growing on his chin and a round, angular face. I notice a few whiskers under his nostrils and just above his upper lip, a small mustache already forming. He appears to be nineteen or perhaps twenty. Tall, roughly the same height as Laurens, muscular and incredibly handsome. He could be fit for the military.

“There he is!” the boy in front of us exclaims with a wide smile, flashing bright white teeth. He opens his arms out for Laurens. Laurens embraces his friend tightly, patting his back before slowly pulling away.

“Hey, Ben,” Laurens says, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “How’ve you been?”

“Been alright. You?” Ben asks.

“Same,” Laurens says, stepping into the house. I follow in after him, remaining quiet unless spoken too.

“And who is this beautiful princess?” Ben says, locking dark brown eyes with violet ones. I feel my freckled cheeks grow warm as I purse my lips together.

Laurens rolls his eyes, but a playful smirk plays on his face. “This is my friend, Alexander Hamilton. Alex, this is Benjamin Tallmadge.”

Tallmadge bends down, one arm behind his back as he grabs my hand and presses a soft, tender kiss on the back of my hand. I feel myself grow even warmer. Tallmadge lowers my hand and stands up straighter as he says, “Benjamin Tallmadge. A pleasure to meet you, Alexander.”

“You too, Benjamin,” I say with a kind smile on my face.

“Oh, please,” Tallmadge scoffs, swatting his hand at an invisible fly. “Call me Ben. A friend of Laurens is always a friend of mine.”

“Thank you…Ben,” I say, trying out his nickname.

“Of course.”

I watch Tallmadge close the front door behind us and he stands into living room. I stay close behind Laurens, gripping his sleeve a little as to not get lost in the tight crowd. Music blares throughout the house, making it difficult for us to ear each other so we’d have to shout to be heard. Tallmadge turns back to us.

“Tilghman’s getting pizza. He should be back shortly in the meantime, I’m in charge. So, Alexander, since you’re new here, let me show you around the house. Do you mind if I steal him for minute, John?”

Laurens furrows his brows together, a crease forming in his forehead. He frowns, looking down at me over his shoulder a little.

“You’ll be alright, right?” Laurens asks for the millionth time.

I roll my eyes, huffing out a breath as I flash Laurens a reassuring smile. I nod and pat his forearm gently. “Yes. I’ll be fine, John.”

“Okay. I’ll be right here in the living room if you need me. I won’t go anywhere else until you’re back safely.”

“Geeze, Jack! Relax!” Tallmadge interrupts, tossing both hands up in the air. Laurens and I turn to him, our bodies still somewhat close. “I’m not a serial killer! I’m not like going to kidnap him or something!”

“Sorry,” Laurens says, running a hand through his honey blonde hair. “It’s just…I want to make sure he’s alright is all. I mean, this is his first time at a party like this and his older brother will kill me if something happened to him.”

“I don’t remember Gil leaving you in charge of me?” I say, arching an eyebrow.

“He didn’t,” Laurens says. “I decided myself. But seriously, Gilbert will murder me if something happened to you, Alex. Now, go.”

Laurens shoves me toward Tallmadge. I shoot him a look but Laurens just waves his hands in front, insisting on me following Tallmadge through the crowd. I press my lips together in a tight line and swallow as I stay close behind Tallmadge, being squished between girls and guys making out with girls. My nose twists with disgust as I squeeze past them, following Tallmadge.

“So, Alex…do you mind if I call you Alex?” Tallmadge asks as we escaped the claustrophobic living room. He arches an eyebrow as he asks the question.

I shake my head. “No. It’s fine. Call me Alex if you want.”

“Alright then, Alex,” Tallmadge says, trying out my nickname. It rolls smoothly off his tongue. He’s straight New Yorker. No accent whatsoever. I don’t hear any Italian, or French or British or Southern, just straight up English but when he says “Alright” there’s a “W” sound instead of an “L” sound so it’s actually “Awright.” “Follow me.”

I do.

“Here we have the kitchen, you can pretty much raid everything in there. We don’t mind. Take anything you want, eat anything you want. No need to ask permission.”

I follow Tallmadge down the hall.

“Here’s the bathroom and a couple of spare bedrooms. Upstairs is where the main bedrooms are, there’s three. One for Tilghman himself and the other for a guest room and the other for his ‘office.’” Tallmadge uses air quotes around the “office.”

I nod as he continues showing me around the apartment and listing the rooms off his fingers. The music from downstairs thumps underneath me and I can feel the house shake a little. I see other people out front with toilet papers, taking turns to toss them towards a nearby tree, whooping and hollering, laughing. Some are with Nerf water guns, spraying each other and acting like little kids instead of teenagers or young adults. To my right, there are both guys and girls in a large, rectangular pool. Some are just chilling while others make out or just actually use the pool what it’s used for: swimming.

“Are Tench’s parents here or something?” I ask, eyeing the pool wearily as we walk along the hall.

“Oh, no,” Tallmadge says. “Tench’s parents are out of town for a couple of weeks. His Dad has a business trip or something so he’s out of state. So, Tench has the place to himself.”

“He doesn’t have any siblings?” I ask, arching a curious eyebrow.

“Nope,” Tallmadge says. “Lucky bastard. Doesn’t have to deal with annoying little siblings or bossy older ones.” A pause. Tallmadge glances at me over his shoulder, looking suddenly hesitant. “Do you?”

I swallow and lift a shoulder. “I did…” Another pause. “An older brother…James was his name, named after my father. I-I don’t like to talk about it…” Tallmadge nods in understanding, suddenly looking solemn with his lips pressed together in a straight line. “Right. I understand.”

We remain in silence until Tallmadge comes to a stop.

“Well, that’s it,” Tallmadge says, spinning around on his heel to face me. “We’ve reached the end of the Tilghman House Tour. Any questions?”

I shake my head.

“Alrighty then,” Tallmadge says, clapping his hands together. “You’re free to go back to your boyfriend.”

My eyes snap wide, face burning. “B-Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, you know? Laurens?” Tallmadge says, leaning against the staircase rail in front of me. “That ridiculously tall, handsome boy down there? Oh, I’m sure he can’t wait to have some lemonade with you.”

A pause.

“I’m leaving.”

“Oh, come on! Come on, Alex! I was joking! I was joking!” Tallmadge calls after me.

I ignore him and stop down the wooden stairs into the crowded living room once more, my arms crossed over my chest and my eyes narrowed, freckled cheeks burning, lips sealed shut tightly.

“Come on, Lexi!” Tallmadge whines, jogging down the steps to catch up to me. “I was joking! Couldn’t you take a joke?!”

It didn’t take me long to find Laurens. He’s leaning against the table where the punch is in the living room, having a small cup himself and with one arm across his chest, raises the cup to his lips and takes a slow sip. And plus, he’s at least a head taller than everyone else and that honey blonde hair seems to glow under the flashing lights. The front door slams open with a loud and sudden bang that almost sounds like a clap of thunder. I yelp with surprise and spin around on my heel to find Tilghman in the front doorway carrying six or seven boxes of pizza in one hand and a bag of two liter sodas in the other, a teasing grin on his face.

“I bare pizza!” Tilghman exclaims, rushing into the house and leaving the door open. He doesn’t even bother to close it.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes as I make my way toward Laurens, who scans the room wearily. His sky-blue eyes land on mine and they furrow together with confusion. Laurens tilts his head slightly as I let out a breath of relief and rush towards him.

“Hey, you alright, Alex?” Laurens asks worriedly, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I stay close to Laurens, so close it’s almost our chests are touching. I glance around me, feeling a little overwhelmed and self-conscious.

“Yeah,” I lie. I’m not such a good liar. “Yeah…it’s just…a bit…tight in here…”

I don’t tell him what Tallmadge had told me. Laurens has other things to worry about on his mind.

“Alright,” Lauren says quietly, setting his small cup of punch down on the table behind him. He stands up straighter, a strong hand on my back as he guides me through the crowd and to the door. “Let’s get some fresh air.” A pause. “That place was getting a little cramped anyways.”

I nod and follow Laurens out the house, closing the door behind him. Laurens and I stand side-by-side as we walk along the driveway towards the sidewalk, past a stairwell that leads up to the second floor. Laurens stands in front of me with his muscular arms over his chest as he gazes around the parking lot until his eyes land on mine again.

“You sure you alright, Alex?” Laurens asks. “I can take you home if you want. It’s not a problem—”

I shake my head, cutting him off short. “No. No, it’s fine. It was just…cramped in there like you said.”

I find a bench nearby and flop down on it, gazing up at the dark sky with the stars twinkling and forming constellations. Laurens smiles softly and follows me. He sits down next to me on the bench so our shoulders are brushing together. He leans forward, resting his folded arms over his thighs as he gazes up at the sky.

“It’s beautiful, ain’t it?” Laurens whispers, his sky-blue eyes glinting against the pale moonlight’s glow.

I turn a little to see his profile beside me and force a small smile to appear on my face. I hum in agreement before turning back up toward the sky. I nod once.

“It is,” I say.

I can feel Laurens’s eyes on me and he smiles a little wider. He laughs, causing me to turn to him. I raise an eyebrow.

“What?” I say.

“I think I found Orion,” Laurens answers.

I frown, obviously confused. I tilt my head a little to one shoulder. “What?”

“In your freckles,” he says. He gestures with his pointer finger at my freckles that are scattered across my face. “I think I found Orion.”

I chuckle a bit. “You aren’t drunk, are you, John?”

Laurens shakes his head with a giggle. “Nope.” He pops out the “P.” I frown as he reaches for something in his back pocket and my eyes widen a little. To my surprise, he pulls out a black marker. He uncaps it and leans forward a little, placing his left hand under my chin and presses the tip of the marker against my cheek. The black tip tingles against my skin, making me giggle a little.

“John? What are you doing?” I ask.

“Shush! I’m trying to find constellations!”

I huff out a breath and fold my arms over my chest as I feel the tip of the marker tickling my skin.

“Alright, let’s see…I found Orion,” Laurens says. “Ooh! I think I found the Big Dipper!”

I laugh, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. “You’re such a child, John.”

“Oh, hush!” Laurens hisses. “You know you love it!”

Laurens stops suddenly when the tip of his marker reaches the bridge of my nose. He lifts his head up slightly and locks eyes with me. I swear, I can feel my heart stop beating. His eyes…they’re beautiful. They’re more electric than sky-blue close up. They twinkle against the faint moonlight shining down on us. I press my lips together and I don’t take my eyes off of his.

Laurens starts to lean in. I frown for a moment, confused again, the tip of the marker still on my nose.

“Lord, Alexander,” Laurens breathes, his blue eyes flickering up and down as he scans me. “You’re beautiful, have I told you that?” Laurens brushes back a reddish-brown lock from my eyes and tucks it behind my ear. I feel myself grow incredibly warm.

I shake my head. “No… I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’re beautiful, Alexander. Absolutely beautiful. Your eyes…they’re…sparkling. They’re a bright purple…and your hair…your auburn hair…shining under the moon…and your face…your freckles…twinkling…fluorescent.”

“John…?”

Laurens leans in, the tips of our noses touching together. Laurens closes his eyes.

He presses his lips to mine.

And I don’t say no.

Chapter Text

WHEN I OPEN my eyes, I see the sunlight shining through my window. I frown, confused for a moment as I blink the bleariness away. I groan, tilting my head to one shoulder and then to the other as I slowly start to rouse up. I press a hand to my forehead. It feels as though someone is slamming my head with a sledgehammer. I hear beeping noise next to me as I prop myself up on one elbow, the bedsheets falling off of my chest and to my lap. I rub my temple in a circular motion, in hopes it will help soothe this pounding migraine. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.

I scan my surroundings. I’m not at the party, that’s for sure. I feel the bedsheets around me. Soft and silky, smooth, a little crinkly and ruffled. I see my desk on my right side of the bed, underneath the windowsill with my laptop closed and my unfinished stories scattered everywhere along with homework from school. I see my dresser and my closet in front of the bed and my nightstand next to me. My phone on the nightstand, plugged into its charger and beeping, buzzing against the wooden table underneath. I grab it, and quickly press the “CANCEL” button. I check the time. 7:15 in the morning. I click the phone off and flop back down on the bed, groaning, my auburn hair sprawling around me in a sea of dark red.

I sit up straight instantly. Wait a minute… My hair was up in its usual ponytail last night. My eyes snap open.

Last night… Last night… What…What happened last night? Last night…

I flip the bedsheets off of me and swing my legs around the edge of the bed. I jolt up, not caring about tidying it and sprint down the stairs, my bare feet thumping against the wooden stairs, my heart pounding. I jog down the steps while my hand grips the rail, breathing fast. I skid to a stop when I reach the bottom step, my eyes still wide, my jaw dropped. I’m not at Tilghman’s place that’s for sure. I don’t hear booming music. I don’t see flashing lights. I don’t see guys making out with girls. I don’t see Tilghman himself. I don’t see him. What I do see though, is George at the dining room table with his circular reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He flips through his newspaper, occasionally taking a sip or two of his coffee. His computer open and set off to the side with a brief case on the seat next to his. Martha stands in the kitchen, one hand on her hip while the other holding the frying pan, making breakfast. It feels empty. It feels quiet. It feels cold, like we’re missing someone.

And we are.

Lafayette…

“Alexander!” George says, a small smile on his face as he looks up from his paper. “You’re awake!” He frowns. “You alright, son?”

“Where am I?” I ask breathlessly, slowing down on the steps.

George and Martha casts worried glances at each other before turning to me.

“You’re home, honey,” Martha says. “You feeling alright, Alexander? You look like you saw a ghost…”

“What—”

“You fell asleep last night at his house,” George explains. “He told me you and him were doing a project for Biology together after dinner last night and you end up falling asleep. So, he brought you home.”

I blink at him. I know Laurens was telling a lie and I thank him for that, but I decide to go along with it and nod.

“Oh…” I breathe, entering the kitchen to make myself a large cup of coffee. A pause. “Have you heard from Gil yet?”

My heart pounds against my chest as I wait for the answer. I close my eyes shut, bracing myself as the coffee starts to brew.

“Yes,” George says. “He’s alright. He landed safely last night. He tried to call you and let you know but you were asleep. I told him and he didn’t to disturb you so he’ll call you tonight.”

I let out a sigh of relief, my tense shoulders slumped. Thank God…

Once my coffee has finished brewing, I cup it gently in both hands, press a quick morning kiss to Martha’s cheek before entering the dining room. I pull out a chair next to George and sit down. What happened?

“You sure you alright there, son?” George asks.

“Yes, Dad,” I say, huffing out a breath and running a hand through my auburn hair which is still unkept and messy, and still sprawled around my shoulders, not put up either in a bun or in a ponytail. “I’m fine. Just…confused…”

George hums and nods with understanding as he sips his coffee. “Well. You better get ready. You have school here in a few minutes, my boy.”

I groan, squeezing my eyes shut. As if this day could get any worse… I flop my head down on the wooden table, my auburn hair flowing all around me, my arms dangling by my side.

“Oh, come on, Alexander,” George says. “It can’t be that bad!”

“Mhm…Do I have to, Dad?” I moan, slowly lifting my head up from the table.

“Yes, you do, son,” George snaps. “It’s not negotiable.”

I moan again and flop my head back down on the table.

“Oh, you’ll be fine, son,” George says, patting my shoulder.

“Here’s your breakfast, dear,” Martha says, smoothing out some of my bangs as she slides my plate in front of me. I smile a little as she presses a soft kiss to my head. After she leaves, I lift my head up again and stand up from the chair, clutching the metal tray into my hands.

“Thanks Mom,” I say to Martha. I turn to George. “Can I…Can I eat upstairs? I um…I need to finish a few things before I leave.”

“Of course, son,” George says, pecking a kiss to my temple. I smile a little and thank him. I then climb up the stairs with my plate in one hand and coffee in the other. Once I reach the top of the stairs, I kick open my bedroom door and kick it shut behind me.

I place my plate and cup on my desk and fumble for my phone. I tug on my curled hair as I pace back and forth in my bedroom in front of the bed, cursing silently to myself, my eyes wide, face paling. This can’t be happening…this can’t be happening…I couldn’t have… Could I? No, no, that can’t be it! Come on, Peggy! Come on!

“Alex?” Peggy says once she picks up the FaceTime request.

I let out a breath. “Peggy! Thank God!”

“Dude, where are you? The school doors are about to open!”

“Uh…yeah…I um… I might have over slept,” I say, scratching the back of my neck. Still pacing.

She arches an eyebrow but she doesn’t respond.

I huff out a breath of frustration. “Okay. Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. Okay?”

She nods. Once. And sharp.

I sit on the foot of my bed. I swallow.

“John Laurens kissed me…”

Silence. I swear, you can hear crickets chirping in the distance.

I watch Peggy’s expression, waiting for her to say something. To say anything. I swallow again as I start to rummage through my closet, wondering what outfit I should wear for the day.

“You’re joking,” Peggy says.

I shake my head. “Mhm. He kissed me.”

“Oh my God…” Peggy breathes.

I nod. “Uh-huh…”

“Oh my God…”

“Uh-huh…”

God, why do I have so much green?

“John Laurens…kissed you?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well uh…did you um…did you kiss him back…?”

I freeze, my hands clutching on a dark green jacket. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and slowly turn around to face my phone which is propped up in front of the lamp on the nightstand. “Maybe…?”

“Alex!” Peggy snaps.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do! I-I panicked okay?! I froze up!”

I toss a dark green long-sleeved shirt onto the bed and tug at the unkept curled auburn hair as I pace back and forth. “Ooh, what am I going to do?! I can’t be near John! I can’t! Ugh! Peggy!”

“Okay, okay, calm down! Calm down!” Peggy shushes me. “Breathe, Alex!”

“Ooh,” I moan, squeezing my eyes shut while still tugging at my hair and flop face-down onto my bed. “What am I going to do?!”

“I got to go, the school doors are opening. We’ll talk about this in school.”

“No, wait, Peggy!”

She hangs up as soon as I say her name. I groan again and bury my face into my pillow. I scream into it with frustration.Why, Laurens? Why did it have to be me? Why? Just why?

I roll back onto my back, my auburn hair splaying around me, so it looks like a sea of red. I stare up at the ceiling with one arm over my chest and the other draped over the edge of the bed. I close my eyes for a moment and I wish I could never open them again because John Laurens stands above me. His honey blonde hair pulled out from his ponytail, letting it fall around his shoulders and his bangs dangle in front of his sky-blue eyes. A bright, sunny smile on his handsome face. His rough, pink lips on mine—

“Alexander, let’s go!” George shouts from downstairs, his voice slightly muffled

I snap my eyes open, sitting upright in my bed. Oh, who am I kidding?

“Coming, Dad!”

I hurriedly change into my outfit which is a dark green sweater and denim jeans along with black Chuck Taylors. I slap my watch on my wrist and swing my bookbag over my shoulder and jog out the room, closing the door behind me.

***

I’m standing in front of my locker now. I keep on peeking through the three lines in the door or behind me to make sure Laurens isn’t nearby. So far, so good. I turn my attention back toward the empty locker. I set my bookbag down and start to unpack, stuffing one textbook inside after the other.

“You’re serious, right?” a voice says next to me. “Did John Laurens seriously kiss you?!”

I yelp, dropping the textbook I had in hand, making it clatter against the tiled floor. I spin around on my heels and lift my fist, ready to swing a punch. But stop when I see Peggy standing before me.

“Peggy, don’t scare me like that!” I hiss, lowering my clenched fists.

“Sorry!” she says, tossing both hands up in front of her as if to protect from herself from the punch I was about to throw. “But seriously, did he legit kiss you?!”

I nod my head up and down. “Yes! Yes, he did!”

I slam my head against my locker, earning a loud bang and causing some students to stare at us, but they return to their conversations nonetheless. “Oh, what am I going to do?! I’m not even…I don’t even…ugh!”

“Okay, okay,” Peggy says, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Relax. Relax.”

“I can’t relax, Pegs!” I moan, clutching the sides of my head, my voice slightly muffled against the locker. “I kissed John Freaking Laurens! I can’t believe I actually kissed him! I can’t believe he kissed me!”

“Did you kiss back?” Peggy asks as we start walking down the hallways toward class.

I roll my eyes. “No, I didn’t. Of course, I kissed back!”

“Alex!” Peggy gasps. I feel my freckled cheeks grow warm with both embarrassment and frustration. “He has a girlfriend!”

Who he doesn’t love… I think silently to myself.

“I know!” I whine, squeezing my eyes shut. “I..I don’t know what happened Peggy. One point he was being a dork and playing connect the dots with my freckles with a marker and then next…he…he kissed me! I don’t know, Peggy! I just…I froze up! I panicked! I…I kissed back.” A pause. “He’s not that bad, actually.”

“Alex!” Peggy says with a pointed look and a scolding tone.

“Sorry!” I say. “It’s true! But really…what am I going to do…?”

“Alex!” shouts a familiar voice from up ahead. It’s southern. My violet eyes widen and I slowly crane my neck to face Peggy. She shrugs, her hazel brown eyes also wide as we both turn our attention toward the front of the hallway, where John Laurens himself shoves through the crowd, mumbling his apologies as he brushes past student’s shoulders to reach us.

I skid to a stop, my breath hitching in my throat as he makes his way toward me. My heart stops pounding against my chest and I remain still. Still as a statue. Laurens approaches me and he stands full length in front of me. I have to tilt my head back a little to meet his eyes. His honey blonde hair pulled in his usual loose ponytail, letting a few strands of hair fall in front of those moonlight eyes. He smiles awkwardly, locking his eyes with mine as he rocks a little on his heels while scratching the back of his neck.

“Hi…” Laurens says shakily.

“Hi…” I say.

Laurens presses his lips together, licks them once, and heaves a sigh through his nose. He lowers his hand that was on the back of his neck by his side. He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“I um…How’re you?” he asks.

I shift a little, clutching my English textbooks close to my chest, as if Laurens was going to steal them from me. I dig my teeth into the bottom of my lip, never taking my eyes off of his. Peggy inches her way away from us, leaving us two some alone time. But she still stands near me, glaring at Laurens accusingly all the way. I lift a shoulder.

“I’m alright,” I say. “You?”

“Same,” he says with a nod.

“Well, I should uh…I should get to class,” I say, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder. Laurens nods once in understanding. “It was uh…um…nice to see you again, John.”

He nods again as I start to walk a few inches backward away from him. I spin around on my heel, breathing heavily and trying to control my pounding heart. I stare at the white tiled floor beneath me, watching one foot step in front of the other, clutching my textbooks close to my chest.

“Alex! Alex, wait!” I hear Laurens shout from a distance.

I stop abruptly, swallowing hard, before slowly turning around to face Laurens. He walks up smoothly toward me. It takes him two long strides to reach me. He swallows hard, before letting out a shaky breath. He runs a hand through his blonde hair and chews anxiously on the corner of his bottom lip.

“I um…I wanted to apologize about last night,” Laurens whispers. He scratches the back of his neck as I look up at him, arching an eyebrow. He rocks on heels a little. “That was…irrational of me. I shouldn’t have made that move on you. I knew you aren’t ready and you’re not even…” He shrugs. “You know. And um…yeah. I understand if you don’t want to be near me anymore or don’t want to be friends. I completely understand that and I will do my best to stay out of your way as much as possible.” A pause. “But I hope you can forgive me, Alex. I mean, I didn’t even ask for your permission!” Another pause. “But I am truly and deeply sorry, Alex.” Yet, another pause. “I should um…I should let you go. Before Mr. Washington starts to worry about your whereabouts…”

I don’t say anything for a long time, which scares us both. I stare deep into Laurens’s eyes. They’re a beautiful shade of blue this time. They’re not sky or sapphire. They’re more of a blue star color, bright yet dark at the same time. They sparkle under the morning sunlight shining through the windows in the hallway. I press my lips together, frowning as I desperately try to come up with something to say as a way to comfort him, as a way to reassure him. I look up again and smile a little.

“It’s alright, John,” I say. No, no it isn’t, my mind scolds. “Really.” A pause. “What happened last night…that doesn’t change us. That doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t change me. It was an accident—” A grimace from Laurens, which makes me stop midsentence. I narrow my eyes at him skeptically.

“Wait a minute…did you…did you kiss me on purpose…?” I say slowly, cautiously.

Laurens fidgets with the cuffs of his sleeve as he bites his lip. My eyes widen.

“You kissed me on purpose?! Without my consent?!” I shriek.

Laurens doesn’t respond. He adverts his gaze from me and ducks his chin towards his chest, looking either guilty or ashamed. Or both. My eyes widen as wide as they can and I can feel the blood draining from my face.

“I’m sorry, Alex! I was stupid! I was irrational!”

“You’re damn right you were! Oh my God!” I breathe with shock, sagging a little against a nearby locker.

A pause.

“John…?” I say weakly.

Laurens swallows. “Y-Yeah…?”

I swallow again as well. “W-What…What happened last night?”

Laurens bites his lip. “Um…don’t look at your neck…”

My face pales, making my skin lighter than before. I shove my things towards Peggy, who takes them with surprise in her eyes. She stares at them for a moment confused before looking back up at me. I’m already down the hall, towards the bathroom. I can hear feet thumping against the floor after me as I race toward the male’s bathroom. Laurens is chasing me, desperately calling me after me to stop. But I ignore him.

I burst through the male’s bathroom door. It hits the side of the wall with a bang that I thought for a second the hinges would fall off. Distantly, I hear Laurens still calling after me, begging me to stop or to slow down or to wait. I don’t. I rush through the bathroom, trying to find a mirror. When I do, I instantly regret it.

I grip the collar of my shirt and yank it down to reveal the open space on my neck. I tilt my head a little and I gasp. Well, I screamed. Nearly screamed, I should say. Because on the side of my neck, underneath my jaw and on my shoulder, are dark spots. They’re small, but visible. They’re a mix of dark purple and black so they might be mistaken for bruises. But they’re not.

They’re hickeys…

I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle my shocked sob. Tears start to brim in my eyes, but they don’t fall down my cheeks. My chin wobbles as I breathe shakily, trying to calm myself. My heart pounds against my chest as I scan the spots on my neck. Where Laurens kissed…

“Oh my God…” I breathe shakily.

I had sex with John Laurens…

“Oh my God…” I whimper.

“Alex! Alex!” Laurens cries as he bangs open the door. He stands in the doorway, panting hard. He frowns, his brows furrowed together. “Alex…?”

My heart aches at his voice, at how weak it sounds, at how terrified he sounds. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to control myself before letting go of my collar. I slowly turn to face him, opening my eyes and narrowing them in a glare. I square my shoulders and set my jaw, my throat clenching shut so it’s suddenly becoming difficult to breathe.

“I hope you burn.”

I storm out of the bathroom, knocking my shoulder into his and the door slams shut behind me.

I don’t look back.

Chapter Text

I STAY AWAY from Laurens as far as possible. I don’t go near him, I don’t talk to him, I don’t look at him, I don’t sit with him at lunch, I don’t do anything that has to do with him. I remain usually quiet throughout the day which worried George a little when I entered English in a complete mess: with my auburn hair all tousled up at the multiple times I had tugged at it, with dry tears staining my freckled cheeks and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were dark circles underneath my eyes.

I stand in front of the door to English, staring at the glass window in the middle of the door with a blank, dazed look. I swallow hard, closing my eyes for just a moment before slowly reopening them. I press my lips into a thin line and slowly grip the doorknob and push the door open, poking my head through the cracked doorframe so only my upper half of my body appears, from the chest up.

“Alexander?” George’s voice says, snapping me out of my thoughts. He scoots his chair back almost immediately as I close the door behind me gently. George rushes towards me when he sees how distressed I am and puts both hands on my arms, near my elbows. I don’t meet his eyes. “Alexander, son, what happened?”

“Dad?” I say, grimacing at how weak I sound. My voice croaks from the times I silently cried to myself. My breath hitches in my throat as I try to stop the sobs from escaping me.

“Yes, my boy?” George whispers, crouching down to my level a little as he brushes back some loose red-brownish bangs out of my red-rimmed violet eyes and tucks them behind my ear. I close my eyes, humming.

“I want to go home…” I whimper.

George frowns, tilting his head to one shoulder. “What do you mean, son? Are you sick?” He presses the back of his hand against my forehead, feeling for a fever.

I shake my head, my arms wrapped tightly around my small, delicate frame. “I mean, I do feel nauseous. But not sick. I just… I just want to go home…”

George has me sit in his chair while he crouches down in front of me. I look up and lock eyes with his. He smiles a little, only a little, as he brushes more loose bangs out of my eyes and behind my ears. I sniff, swallowing hard. His smile fades however when he notices something I don’t.

“Son…tell me what happened…it’s okay. I won’t be mad, I promise. I just want to help you, Alex, and I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. I won’t tell anyone unless you want me to. Understand?” George says.

I nod, sniffling and wiping my cheeks with the heel of my palm.

“So…tell me what’s wrong, my boy. It’s alright. Take your time,” George soothes.

I swallow again and nod. I close my eyes gently and slowly reopen them. I let out a shaky breath.

“I had sex with John Laurens!” I blurt out, so fast it sounds like the words are mumbled or jumbled together.

“What?” George breathes, unable to understand what I had just said.

I swallow. “You know…you know John? John Laurens?”

George nods skeptically.

“Well um…he uh…he was drunk last night and um…um…um…”

“And what son?”

I swallow again.

“We had sex,” I confess, feeling a weight lifted off of my chest all of a sudden.

George stops tucking my hair behind my ears and freezes all together. His gray-blue eyes widen and his rosy cheeks pales into a lighter shade of red. I press my lips together tightly, my vision already blurring with tears as I try to control my breathing. I wait for him to say something. To say anything.

“I don’t…I don’t remember much,” I say after a while of tense silence. My voice cracks when I speak. But I don’t care. “But…”

I grab a fistful of my collar and slowly pull it down to reveal the hickeys on my neck. Georges eyes widen even wider and he swallows, staring at the bruised spots on my neck in pure disbelief and shock. The shock suddenly turns to anger as his nose scrunches up and his eyes narrow, his lips twist downward. He growls behind closed lips.

“I’m going to kill him,” George snaps. “I’m going to kill Mr. Laurens.”

“Dad, don’t—” I start but George is already up to the phone on his desk. “Dad—” He presses the button.

“George?” says Principle Schuyler on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Mr. Schuyler,” George says. “Um…listen…would you do me a favor and have them bring Mr. John Laurens down to English for a moment please? I’d like to have a nice, little chat with him.”

“O-Of course. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” George says. “Everything is just peachy. I just need to talk with him for a moment.”

“Okay…I’ll have someone send him down,” Mr. Schuyler says.

“Thank you,” George says.

“Of course.”

There’s a long beep and then silence. George glowers at the phone, grinding his jaw and clenching his fists at his sides.

“Dad—”

“He hurt you, Alexander,” George hisses, slowly craning his neck over his shoulder. “And trust me when I tell you that no one messes with my boys.”

***

I hear a knock on the closed door. I jerk my head up at the sudden sound, confused and I sigh. Laurens stands behind the door, his face on the other side of the glass window. I chew on the corner of my lip and fidget in the chair as George rests his back against the edge of the desk with his arms folded over his chest and a scowl forming on his face. Laurens sees me through the rectangular, glass window. He frowns, his eyes downcast as he slowly opens the door. Laurens lets out a breath as he slowly pokes his head through the cracked doorframe. He swallows, his sky-blue eyes on me all the time.

“Mr. Washington, sir, uh…you wanted to see me?” Laurens asks shakily, his southern accent clearly heard.

“Laurens, come in,” George says coldly. Laurens fully steps in and closes the door gently behind him. He stays where he is in front of the door, his arms clasped behind his back as if coming to attention to a commanding officer. He sets his jaw, narrows his eyes and stares past George’s shoulder, at me. “And yes, I did wish to see you.”

“About what, sir?” Laurens asks, his voice stern and determined, serious. Flat. Like he’s already in the military.

George glances at me then back at Laurens. He arches an eyebrow as he steps toward poor Laurens. I’m surprised Laurens actually shrinks.

“You took my son to a party?” George says coldly, making me shiver.

Laurens swallows, still staring past George’s shoulder. “Yes, sir.”

“And why?”

“Dad—” I start, but George cuts me off sharply.

“Alexander.”

That’s all George had to say to get me to shut up. I do. I clamp my half-opened mouth shut and shrink back in my chair, wrapping my arms around my small body. I swallow. Laurens pauses as he tries to think of something, anything to say.

“I…I don’t know, sir. I just…I just thought it would be fun…and he uh…he uh admitted he wanted to try something new…so…”

George’s eyes flicker toward me over his shoulder. I look away quickly. George’s eyes flicker back to Laurens. A pause. A tense one at that.

“I have a question for you, Mr. Laurens,” George says tersely.

“Yes?”

“What gave you any right to have sex with my son?”

Silence.

More silence.

Laurens blinks a couple of times and shakes his head, appalled. “What?!”

“You had sex with my son,” George snaps. “Alexander?”

I swallow. “Yes, Dad…?”

“Show him,” he says.

I pull down the collar of my shirt to reveal the hickeys on my neck. Laurens’s eyes widen as if he didn’t know about it, which he totally did because otherwise he wouldn’t have given me that warning to not look at my neck. George nods, his arms still crossed over his chest. Laurens looks at George then to me then to George again. He continues to shake his head.

“What?!” Laurens gasps. “No! No! No! We didn’t have sex! Alex is still underage!”

“Then what do you call these?!” George naps, jabbing his forefinger towards my neck.

Laurens sighs through his nose frustratingly and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“My apologies, Mr. Washington, sir,” Laurens apologizes. “I was a little…tipsy last night. I was stressed and desperate. I wasn’t thinking straight. We were sitting outside on the bench in front Tench’s place. Alex needed some air so I took him outside. We sat down and looked at the sky and I asked him if the sky was beautiful and he said it was and I told him I thought I found Orion in his freckles so I decided to try and draw it out—”

“Is that why there was marker on my son’s face when you brought him home yesterday?” George asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep,” Laurens says, popping out the “P.”

“Continue.”

“Well, I um…I played connect the dots a little bit and then…then…”

“Then what?”

“Well, we kissed,” Laurens confessed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I um…I got a little carried away, as you can see, but Alex stopped me before I could go any further. He fell asleep on me a few minutes later and that's when I took him home. But we didn’t have sex. One, he’s not old enough too—”

I scoff.

“Two,” Laurens continues. “I wouldn’t do that to him, sir. Even if a tiny bit drunk, I wouldn’t do that to him without his consent. I had enough sense in me to know better.”

A pause.

I stand up suddenly, causing both George and Laurens to turn around to face me. I smile a little as I stand in front of him, looking into his eyes. My heart flutters. It feels like the sky’s the limit.

Laurens looks down at me, confused. But a small smile forms on his face. I fling my arms around him suddenly, embracing him tightly, never wanting to let go. I squeeze my eyes shut as my head rests on his chest, my arms around his waist, squeezing tight. I can feel George smile softly behind me and I can hear him stepping back a bit. Laurens freezes up, his arms up over me in shock before wrapping them around me securely.

After a few minutes, I slowly lift my head up, my chin on his chest. He smiles genuinely down at me.

“Am I forgiven?” Laurens asks.

I nod. “You are.”

Laurens’s small smile fades into a frown. “I’m so sorry, Alex…”

I shake my head. “No. It’s not your fault, John. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have made assumptions that quickly. It was all a misunderstanding.”

“So… we’re good?”

I nod. “We’re good.”

***

I’m at the cafeteria now, munching on my pizza and chatting, laughing with the Schuyler Sisters across from me. I’m deep in conversation with them when Laurens suddenly slams his tray down on the table. I jolt in my seat, yelping with surprise and nearly dropping my pizza in hand. He slides onto the bench next to me, his tray hitting the wooden table, and he stares with a stunned, shocked, terrified look on his face. It looks almost as though he just saw a ghost. His blue eyes are wide, wide as the sun and his face is extremely pale, his honey blonde hair sticking out at random, all loose from his low ponytail. He looks like a mess. I frown at him, cocking my head to one shoulder a little and arching an eyebrow. I glance at the Sisters’ who shrug before turning my attention back to Laurens.

“John…?” I whisper, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I broke up with her,” Laurens breathes, still staring at the wall across the cafeteria, over Eliza’s shoulder. He says it flatly, quickly like all the words are mushed together.

“Who?” Angelica wonders with a quirked eyebrow.

Laurens swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He chews on his lower lip, his blue eyes flickering around the room, but his face remains still and straight. His jaw tight, his hands gripping the edge of the table, knuckles turning to white.

“Manning,” Laurens gulps. “I broke up with Martha. I broke up with her…”

Silence.

“Okay…?” Angelica says skeptically.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Peggy asks, resting her chin on her palm.

Laurens gulps again, letting out a shaky breath. “Bad…really, really bad…”

I rub my hand slowly up and down his bicep, trying my best to comfort him. I can feel the fear he has in my chest and it hurts me.

“Oh God…” Laurens gasp, his eyes widening as wide as they can, his face paling. “Oh God, I broke up with her! I broke up with her! I broke up with her! Hamilton, I broke up with her!”

“Shh, shh,” I whisper, brushing back a couple of loose strands of blonde hair behind his ear. “Breathe, John. Breathe.”

Laurens moans, putting his face into his hands, his elbows on the table. “I’m so dead! I’m so dead! Why did I break up with her?! My father is going to kill me!”

“What?” Eliza gasps, her dark brown eyes widening.

I flash Eliza a soft, reassuring smile as I turn to face her. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. That is, if he wants me to.” I nod my head toward Laurens, who has his face resting on his folded forearms on the table.

Eliza presses her lips together, swallowing, and then nod once.

“Oh, God!” Laurens groans. “Alex, what am I going to do?! I’m dead! I’m dead! God, why did I break up with her?!”

“Shh, John…breathe—”

“I am breathing!” he snaps, breathing sharply through his nose as he lifts up his head and whips his head over his shoulder to shoot me a hard glare.

It’s silent for a moment, and then—

“How am I supposed to tell my father I broke up with her?!” Laurens moans, flopping his head into my shoulder and whimpers. “My father’s going to kill me!”

“Oh, honey,” Eliza says sweetly, reaching across the table to try and comfort Laurens as well. “I’m sure it’ll all work out—”

“It won’t,” Laurens says sharply, through clenched teeth. We remain silent for a moment as we wait for Laurens to continue. He sighs long through his nose, pinching his lips together. He swallows, licking his lips. “Look. I appreciate y’all on what you’re trying to do, but…but you all don’t understand…”

As if reading his thoughts, Laurens’s phone rings uncomfortably loudly. His phone buzzes in his jean pocket, vibrating against the bench. Laurens’s eyes snap open and he turns ghostly white as he glances around the cafeteria, at all of us. He swallows when we don’t say anything and slowly pulls his phone out of his pocket. Laurens nearly faints when he reads the caller ID on his screen. He shakily turns it toward me and I can feel myself go white as well, my violet eyes widening.

The caller ID reads:

Henry Laurens.

Chapter Text

LAURENS STARES AT his phone for a long time. It buzzes and rings throughout the cafeteria, causing us to have a few, disturbed stares from other students surrounding us. Laurens grips his phone tightly in his hands, letting out shaky breaths as he stares at the caller ID. I rest my hand on his forearm, squeezing it comfortingly and lean into his ear, whispering softly, “You can do this, John…”

Laurens swallows and shakes his head violently. He doesn’t reply.

I sigh through my nose and turn toward the Sister’s. I give them an apologetic look.

“Would you give us a moment in private, please?” I ask kindly.

The three girls nod. I thank them and grab Laurens by the elbow and drag him down the hall. It’s quiet in the halls. Of course, it would be. Everyone’s at the cafeteria eating lunch. I lean against the locker with my arms over my chest. I give Laurens a knowing look.

“Answer it.”

Laurens snaps his head up toward me, his eyes wide again, and he shakes his head once more. He still won’t talk.

“John,” I sigh. “You have to face your fears…”

“You don’t get it, Alexander!” Laurens hisses, the phone still buzzing in his hand. “The things he did to me! The things…” He pauses, looking back down at his phone. His brows furrowing together. “He hasn’t spoken to me in four years. Why…Why is he calling now?”

Laurens swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut at a painful memory in his head. My chest clenches, heart aching for him.

While Laurens has his eyes closed, I snatch his phone from him and press the “ACCEPT” button and put it back in his hands. Laurens’s eyes snap open when he feels his phone back in his palms and shoots me a terrified glare. I smirk, resting my head against the locker and quirking an eyebrow. Laurens growls behind closed lips, mouthing, “You’re so dead!”

“There’s my Johnny Boy!” Mr. Laurens squeals through the phone.

Laurens winces and swallows, still glaring daggers at me. “Hi, Dad…” His voice croaks as he speaks.

“So, Jack. How’ve you been? How’s Martha?” Mr. Laurens asks.

Laurens winces again at the mention of both Martha and his nickname. He swallows, scratching the nape of his neck underneath his loose ponytail. He presses his lips together tightly.

“Um…I’m doing alright. So is Martha… How’s uh…how’s home?” Laurens stutters.

“Home’s alright,” Mr. Laurens says. I can feel him shrug on the other end of the line. “How’s Manhattan?”

Laurens shrugs. “Alright. Nothing crazy going on. Just working on school and trying to find a job…”

“That’s my boy,” Mr. Laurens says. I can feel him scarily smirk on the other end of the line. Laurens squeezes his eyes shut and tries to take a few calm, steady breaths. He reopens his eyes and locks his with mine. I smile softly, nodding encouragingly.

Laurens swallows. “So, Dad…why’d you call? You haven’t spoken a word to me in four years…”

“Well, son, who’s fault was that?” Mr. Laurens snaps.

Laurens grimaces at the same time Mr. Laurens sighs heavily.

“I’m coming up for a visit in a few days,” Mr. Laurens says. Laurens’s eyes snap open, glancing at me for help. I just shrug. “I’m bringing your siblings. I’m sure they’d love to see their brother.”

“Well, Dad, who’s was fault was that?” Laurens counters, his voice flat yet at the end of the sentence, I could hear a crack.

I smile softly. That’s my John…

“Jack, don’t start—”

“Don’t call me that,” Laurens snaps coldly. “You’ve lost that privilege.”

“Jack—”

“I said don’t, Dad,” he snaps. A pause.

“I’m coming up, John. Whether you like it or not. And I expect you to be engaged to Manning when I arrive.”

Laurens’s face pales, his eyes widening as they lock on mine. He swallows. “W-When are you coming up…?”

“In a week from now. It’ll take me a couple of days just to get into New York.”

Laurens licks his lips and swallows again. “Okay, Dad… I um…I will be prepared.”

“Good.”

A pause.

“Well, I will see you in a few days, John,” Mr. Laurens says.

“Okay, Dad,” Laurens says shakily.

Mr. Laurens hangs up, a few beeping noises are the only sounds that came after. Laurens stares at his phone in his trembly hands and lets out a breath. I just stare up at Laurens with a shocked look on my face. He looks up at me, bright blue eyes wide, face white as snow.

“I’m so dead.”

***

“Good afternoon everyone,” says my Government and History teacher, Mr. Knox. He’s a tall man roughly in his early fifties with short-cropped dark brown hair swept to the side and beady, hawklike black eyes. He sniffs, pushing up his rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose. He wheels his chair over toward us so he’s not facing his computer and slaps his folded hands onto the top of his wooden desk and scans the room like a hawk. I feel myself shiver under his stare.

“I do hope everyone has had a wonderful week so far,” Mr. Knox says. He clears his throat. He reaches for a stack of paper at the corner of his desk and shuffles through it. “You have a project to complete at the end of the week on the source of money for political campaigns and development of democratization.”

In a week…? I think. Well, it sounded more like a whine.

“At the end of the week, you will have a pop quiz based on these study guides I’m about to hand out.”

Mr. Knox scoots his black leather chair out from his desk and reaches for the stacks of papers. He gracefully walks around his desk and stands in front of each row as he hands his students their study guides.

“For the projects, you may choose to either pick a partner or do it solo. It’s your choice,” Mr. Knox says as soon as the bell rings, indicating class has started.

I keep my head down, focused on the sheet of paper in front of me on my desk, pretending to write something down as he approaches the row in front of me. In my peripheral, I see Jefferson scowling at me from behind my shoulder. I keep my eye on him. Who knows what sort of taunts or tactics he’ll use against me this time? But all Jefferson does is flick a pencil around his fingers, his eyes narrowed at me with a smirk on his face and his feet criss-crossed on top of his desk. I really do wish I could read minds. “Now,” Mr. Knox says, clearing his throat as he crosses back across the room toward his desk again.

“Here’s what we will do. We will practice reenacting political debates. I will write down some discussion topics or ideas you all could choose from. You are to come in class two or three days now depending on your choice of topic and present your speech.”

A groan from a couple of students.

“Oh, hush,” Mr. Knox snaps with a roll of his eyes. “You’ll be fine. You’ll live.”

Mr. Knocks walks back toward his desk, standing in front of his desk again and grins evilly. I have a sickening feeling that I don’t like that grin. He claps his hands together and yanks a marker off the dry erase board sill and uncaps the pen, capping the lid to the end of the marker.

“Let’s begin.”

A few minutes have passed since class started. I don’t know how much time has passed since I began jotting down my points and my opinions in my notebook. I’m completely lost in thought, a small tug on my face. So far, class has been alright. I haven’t had any insults or taunts from Jefferson. I keep glancing at him in my peripheral. To my surprise, he’s actually doing his work like he’s supposed too. I wasn’t aware that was something a person could do. Especially coming from a person like him.

We work in silence, well, except for the occasional chatter coming from around the room with students and their partners talking together. Mr. Knox hums as he clicks away on his keyboard, occasionally glancing at us to make sure we aren’t doing anything stupid before turning his attention back to towards the computer. Everything was alright. I felt alright. I felt calm. My mind races with each coming thought and with each coming thought, I jot it down so I won’t forget it. I seem to be deep in thought from others, more focused and determined to get this done on time. My pen scratching against the notebook. That is until I hear someone whisper to her partner, “Looks like there’s a storm coming.”

“I thought it said it wasn't going to storm today,” says her friend.

“Well, apparently it is now.”

My head snaps up, eyes widening and I can feel the blood draining from my face. I stop. I froze, my shoulder tensed up to my ears. I grip my pen tightly, mentally shaking my head.

No. No, no, no. Not here. Not here. Not now. Not now.

I gather enough courage to slowly crane my neck to my left where I heard the gossip girls talking. Sure enough, just above a few treetops a few yards back, there’s a dark loom of dark gray clouds rolling in. I can see the wind start to pick up just as my heart does. I stare out the window, my breathing becoming ragged and sharp though I try to control it. I continue to shake my head.

No, no, no. Please. Not here…

I need to leave. I need to leave now.

“Mr. Hamilton? Are you alright?” I hear Mr. Knox asks, his voice full of worry and concern. It doesn’t sound far. It sounds like his voice is coming right in front of me.

I can feel Jefferson smirking wider as he realizes what’s happening. I have no doubt he’ll use this to his advantage.

I continue to stare out at the clouds, as they become darker and darker, slowly covering up the once clear blue sky. I’m suddenly in my old home on the Grange in Nevis. I’m in my bedroom, my back pressed against the pillows behind me with my knees drawn to my chest as I hear my parents down below. I hear a knock on my bedroom door as my brother, James, slowly cracks it open, poking his head through with a small smile. He enters my bedroom, wondering if I’m alright. I nodded and he flopped down on the bed next to me, wrapping his arm around me and telling me it’ll be alright.

Next thing I know, I hear the thunder. I yelp and clutched onto him, burying my face into his shirt. James shushed me, rubbing back in small circles as a way to comfort me, telling me that it was just a little thunder. That I was going to be alright. But it didn’t turn out alright, did it? Because now here comes the rain clinking against the window, the sky turning darker by the second, winds going at least a hundred miles per hour, tearing up everything in its path.

“Mr. Hamilton?” I hear Mr. Knox’s voice in the distance. I don’t know where it’s coming from. It sounds like it’s coming from the east. I look down as I feel something brush against my thigh only to find a cold, limp hand. That isn’t mine.

I hear the rain clink against the window pane and Mr. Knox, sounding closer. I see the rain against the window, the trees in the distance, blowing, trying to fight the wind to remain upright. My heart pounds faster, faster against my chest, my throat squeezes and it’s suddenly hard for me to breathe. It feels like there’s water clogged up in my throat or a hand wrapped around it.

“Mr. Hamilton!” Mr. Knox says. I see him in my peripheral, crouching down in front of my desk with his hand on my shoulder. But I don’t turn away from the window. The clouds roll in faster, rain starting to pick up speed and everything in view smears together.

Where’s Lafayette when I need him?

“Someone get Mr. Washington!” Mr. Knox orders, his voice booming like thunder itself.

That’s when I hear the first clap of thunder. I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping my desk and biting my lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. I breathe sharply, with my eyes glued shut, through my nose in and out.

Not here…please, not here, I whimper.

More rain crinkles against the glass window pane. Wind whistles through the air. I see myself, my younger self, swimming in the flood, trying to find an escape, the waves crashing up against my knees.

Another clap of thunder.

I whimper, my lips pressed together tightly, my eyes still skewered shut. I continue to breathe sharply through my nose, trying to control my rapid heartrate.

“Alexander?” a voice says, replacing Mr. Knox’s. I hear a couple of students murmuring with each other confused and curious, some stare at me, others smirk.

“Breathe, Alexander,” George’s voice says, calm. “Shh…breathe, son…breathe…”

Another clap of thunder. I whimper and grip the edges of my seat so tight my knuckles turn white. I fight the urge to fling myself onto George.

“Shh, my boy,” George says, stroking a few dark auburn locks from my face. “Shh…that’s it… breathe… one, two three, four…in…out…one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…there we go.” I can feel George smile a little. “You’re not back there, my boy.”

“G-Gil,” I whimper, wincing at another clap of thunder. “W-Want G-Gil, D-Dad…”

“Shh, shh,” George soothes, tucking a loose auburn lock behind my hear. “I know, son. I know you do. But he’s in France, son.”

Lightning flashes, making everything worse than it already is. Suddenly, I see James in front of me, underneath the tree. I see the lightning strike the base of the tree. I watch it fall, fall, fall, fall—

“Dad!” I yelp, grimacing at the lightning, wrapping my arms around George’s neck and whimpering, burying myself into George’s chest.

“Shh, shh,” George shushes, rubbing my back in small circles and occasionally pressing a kiss to my temple or forehead. “I’m right here, son. I’m right here. You’re okay, you’re safe, my boy.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Mr. Knox asks. “Is he alright?”

I grip my hold around George’s neck tighter, whimpering at another clap of thunder and squeeze my eyes shut.

I can feel George turn his head as he tries his best to explain without revealing any details of my tragic childhood.

“Thunderstorms trigger him,” George explains. “He isn’t afraid of them, they just bring horrible memories him and he’ll get all jittery like this. But he’s fine, I assure you, Mr. Knox.”

“Are you sure?” Mr. Knox asks, his tone sounding concerned. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just some time alone,” George whispers into my temple, pressing a soft, fatherly kiss to it. I can feel him turn back to Mr. Knox. “Do you mind if I…”

“No, of course not!” Mr. Knox urges. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” George says with a small smile tugging on his lips. He helps me stand, one arm around my shoulders, hoisting me up from my seat while the other gripping my other hand. “Come on, son. Let’s get you some air.”

I nod weakly, my eyes still closed. I sag against George’s grip, feeling my knees buckle underneath me.

A few minutes later, I’m in George’s classroom. George still holds me tightly, protectively almost, his cheek on my head as he rubs my arm up and down. It took me a half hour or so for me to calm down and to come back to reality. When I do come back, I slowly open my eyes to find his classroom empty. I lift my head off of his chest, sniffling. I feel a warm blush creeping on my cheeks. I swallow.

“Sorry about that, Dad,” I mutter, wrapping my thin arms around myself.

George smiles softly, tucking back loose strands of dark red hair behind my ear. “Don’t be, Alexander. You have nothing to be sorry for, son.” His small smile turns into a frown, his brows furrow together. “Are you alright?”

I swallow the lump down my throat again and nod, my lips pressed tight together. “Yeah…” I glance up at him, blue eyes matching violets. “Um…Dad…could you…do you mind if you could call Laurens for me? Send him in?”

George raises a curious eyebrow, stoned-face. “Why? He should be in class.”

I swallow, licking my lips. “I know. It’s just…I want him, Dad. I really want him right now, Dad…” I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes as I speak, imagining Laurens’s strong arms wrapped around me. I feel a small tug creeping on my lips. Then, I frown. “Gil’s not here. So, John’s the next closest thing I have to a brother.” I open my eyes slowly, locking mine with his piercing gray-blue ones.

“I know you don’t like him, Dad,” I say.

George scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

I give George a pointed look.

“But I just…I really could use his comfort right now, Dad,” I continue.

A pause. Silence fills the classroom.

Finally, George sighs defeatedly. “Alright. I’ll have him take you home.

I smile a little. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nods. Once. Sharp before pressing the button on the phone. Laurens’s mathematics teacher answers, asks George what can she do for him. George tells her the situation and requests her to send Laurens down to English. Laurens’s teacher says she will and hangs up.

“Get some sleep, son,” George says. He jabs a finger at me. “I don’t want you up all night again.”

I roll my eyes. “Dad, come on.”

“Nope.”

As soon as I let out an exhale, the classroom door opens. I whip my head over my shoulder to find the one and only elegant blue-eyed John Laurens standing in the doorframe. He smiles softly when his eyes land on mine, his honey blonde hair dangling in front of his eye a little as he raps his knuckles against the wooden door.

“Mr. Washington, sir,” Laurens says. “I heard you wish to see me?”

George nods and pats my shoulder. “Yes. I do.” He takes a swift look at Laurens and chuckles. “Calm down, Mr. Laurens. You’re not in trouble. I only wish for you to take my son home. He’s uh…feeling ill and wishes for your comfort.”

Laurens’s small smile fades and glances at me. I smile sheepishly, shrugging before Laurens turns his attention back toward George.

“Alright,” Laurens says. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes. I apologize for having to interrupt your class,” George apologizes.

Laurens smile returns and he shakes his head. “Oh, no. It’s not a problem at all. Class was getting boring anyway. I’d be more than happy to take Alexander home for you. That is…if he’s alright with it.”

I nod.

“Well then,” George says. “Up you go, Alexander. Don’t worry about your things. I’ll collect them or have a student bring them to be and bring them home. You have your phone on you, correct?”

“Yeah, Dad,” I say with a roll of my eyes as Laurens helps me up, guiding me towards the classroom door.

“Alright,” George says. “Off you go. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

The door closes as Laurens and I exit the room. Laurens turns to me, frowning with worry and confusion though he tries his best to form a small smile. I stare at the door over my shoulder a little while before turning towards Laurens himself, forcing myself to return the small smile. Laurens grips my shoulders, rubbing them up and down comfortingly as I look back down at the tiled floors.

“You alright, Alex?” Laurens whisper.

I swallow thickly before looking back up at those beautiful icy blue eyes. I brush back a loose strand of honey blonde hair out of those eyes of his and tuck it behind his ear almost absentmindedly. I rest my hand on the crook of his jaw, stroking it slowly. His skin feels smooth, He must have shaved today. Laurens smiles a little again as he leans into my palm, gripping my wrist and staring down at me dreamily, almost lovingly. I step a few inches closer to him so it almost looks like our chests are touching when they’re not. My head is just below his angular chin.

“John…” I whisper, our eyes still locked. My voice cracks with emotion as I speak, but I don’t care. “Promise me you won’t leave me. Ever.”

Laurens pulls me into a tight embrace, resting his chin on top of my head while my head rests upon his chest. His strong arms wrapped around my small, feminine frame, rubbing my arms comforting. He inhales sharply, closing his eyes.

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

“WELL, ALEX, HERE we are,” Laurens declares with a shaky breath as he parks his car in front of my home. I stare at the front door for a moment with a blank look on my face, my arms around myself once more and my knees up to my chest. I see Laurens eyeing me worriedly in my peripheral. He chews on the corner of his lip, frowning, his brows furrowed together. He tilts his head to one shoulder, resting a hand on my own shoulder.

“Alex? You alright?” Laurens says.

I jolt a little, blinking out of my daze before whipping my head over to Laurens. I flash him an unconvincing reassuring smile as I lower my legs to the floor and unbuckle myself. I nod.

“Mhm,” I say. “I’m fine, John. Really. Thanks for the ride home. I’ll uh…see you at school tomorrow.”

I push the passenger side door open and climb on out, dusting my hands together before turning around to shut the door. But Laurens reaches across the door, his hand sticking out and he winces slightly but lowers his hand back when I slowly reopen the door. I poke my head through, frowning with confusion.

“Alex, wait,” Laurens says. His eyes flicker to his phone in his cupholder and then back up to me. His peach-colored skin turns into a lighter shade of pink as he scratches the back of his neck. “I um…I just realized…I um…I never got your number.” He winks, a cunning grin on his face.

I grin stupidly, laughing through my nose as I shake my head side to side, rolling my eyes. I wiggle my fingers, gesturing to his phone.

“Give it to me,” I say, trying to make myself sound stern but I couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

Laurens grins as he hands me his phone after unlocking it. I type in my contact information, such as my number and email if he needed to email me and hand his phone back. He grins stupidly, making a disgruntled noise of triumph through his nose before clicking his phone off and tucking it back into the cupholder. I pull back out of the door and close it again. But Laurens’s arm sticks through the small open crack between the frame and the door itself. I frown, confused once more, before slowly pulling the door back open and leaning forward inside the car, ducking my head and arching an eyebrow.

“Alex, wait,” Laurens says with a frown. “I’m serious this time. I uh…I have a couple of questions to ask you…”

I rest my forearms on the leather seat and smile fondly. “Go ahead.”

Laurens glances at me, almost hesitantly, biting the corner of his lip. His bright blue eyes flicker up and down, searching me, scanning my face, trying to memorize every detail of me. I raise an eyebrow again, looking up at him with the fond smile still on my face as I tilt my head to one shoulder. Eventually, Laurens sighs defeatedly and looks at me dead in the eye. Serious.

“I was uh…I was wondering if you’d um…if you’d like to come to the game on Friday…I can pick you up and drop you off afterward,” Laurens offers.

I stare at him bemusedly, blinking a couple of times. Last time he did that…well…

“Are you sure this isn’t a date?” I say with a teasing smirk.

Laurens’s blushes a deep tomato red and chuckles to himself as he shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “No. No, it isn’t. Just um…just…I kind of want you to be there at the game, you know? To like support me? That is if you want to, of course. You don’t have to…”

I nod. “I’ll go. I’d love to see you play.”

Laurens’s eyes brightens, his smile beaming as bright as the afternoon sunlight. “Really?”

I nod, reaching out to touch his soft, yet rough hand. My small hand lands on his slightly larger one. I smile brightly, laughing a little at Laurens’s giddiness. “Yes. Really.” Laurens looks down at our joined hands and looks back up at me with a soft smile on his face. I glance down at our joined hands and then back up at him, pulling my hand off of his. I clear my throat, my freckled cheeks warming up heatedly. I lick my teeth behind my closed lips and click my teeth together, looking up at Laurens again.

“You said you had another question?” I prompt.

“Oh,” Laurens says. “Yeah, I do. Um…well, it’s more like a favor…”

“A favor?”

“Mhm…um… because you have uh…I don’t mean to sound offensive or anything, but because you have a feminine like body…” Laurens nods towards my curvy hips and my narrow waist. I feel myself becoming warm all of a sudden before Laurens looks up at me again. “I um…I was wondering…” He laughs. “God, why is this so much harder than I thought it would be?”

“What?” I say. “Come on, John! You can tell me anything! I won’t be mad, I promise.”

“It’s not that,” Laurens says. “It’s um…it’s pretty awkward actually…”

“Well, go on,” I urge, suddenly eager and curious.

Laurens lets out a grunt as he scratches the back of his neck. He swallows thickly. “But um…I was um…I was wondering if uh…if um…if you’d like to…if you’d like to be…if you’d like to be my girlfriend!” A pause. “My uh…my fake girlfriend!”

I stare at him, my small smile turning into a frown almost instantly, my brows furrowing together to form a crease in my head.

“You’re joking…right?” I say.

Laurens shakes his head, his lips pressed together as he swallows. “Mhm. Nope. I’m not. I’m uh…I’m being serious.”

I just stare at him.

“Come on, Alex!” Laurens pleads, gripping my wrist in both of his hands. “Come on! Please! Just…just two weeks! Just two weeks and that’s it! We don’t have to kiss or make out, or anything like that! I really…”

Laurens lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for just a moment, and then slowly reopens them.

“I really like you, Alex,” he whispers. “You’ve been so kind to me ever since we first met and…Alexander, you’re the closest friend I’ve got. You’ve supported me since we met and…you’re just…beautiful, Alex. Absolutely beautiful. With those violet eyes and that auburn hair and your freckles that’re like stars in the night sky…please…just give me a chance? Just two weeks.”

I stare at him, shocked at his confession and blushing mad. He likes me? John Laurens likes me? He likes me? I press my lips together in a straight line, thinking about the pros and cons of becoming his fake girlfriend for two weeks. But he’s my friend, is he not? I want to support him, to help him, to be there for him at all times. Just like he has for me since we first met. Laurens isn’t all that bad. He’s sweet, kind, handsome. He protects me, or at least tries too. He’s scarily adorable when he tries not to be. That laugh…that smile…those eyes… those blue eyes that makes it feel like the sky’s the limit…

“Okay…” I breathe, nodding. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Oh, Alex!” Laurens breathes with relief. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me! Just two weeks, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I laugh, waving him off like a fly. I stand up out of his car again. “Now go.”

Laurens smiles and nods once, pulling his car in reverse and slowly start to back up as I march on the porch steps to the front door. I stop at the front door, wrapping my arms around myself again as I turn on my heel, glancing at him over my shoulder, smiling as he waves at me again. I wave back and watch him pull out of the driveway and disappear around the corner. My smile fades as I starer after him.

Just what have I gotten myself into?

I twist the knob to the front door open and push myself inside, closing the door behind me. It’s suddenly eerily quiet in here. I gulp, licking my dry, chapped lips as I scan the room. I see the living room, empty, and the TV off, of course. I see Martha’s car parked in the driveway so she’s here for sure. The dining room is still in place, the light on. I frown. Did I turn off the light when I left for school this morning?

“Mom?” I say. “Mom?! Mom, I’m home!”

“Alex!” I hear Martha’s voice call from upstairs in her office. I frown, confused for a moment, before jogging up the stairs with one hand on the rail. “I’m up here!”

“Mom?” I say, opening her office door.

“Hi, honey!” Martha beams, peeking over her computer and adjusting her askew glasses. “Sorry, I was finishing up a call with one of the directors.” She wheels her chair around the desk and claps her hands together, looking at me expectantly. “What’s wrong, Alex? Why’re you here? You don’t get off for another few hours…it’s only one in the afternoon…”

“Well, Mom, in case you haven’t noticed…it’s um…it’s storming right now. Well, it’s just raining now. Earlier it was storming and well…you know what happens when it storms,” I explain, plopping myself down on her couch in her office.

“Mmm, ah, yes. I heard the thunder alright. I was worried about you,” she says. “Did George bring you home, dear?”

I bite my lip. “Um…no. He um…he sent my friend to drive me home.”

“A friend?” Martha asks, suspiciously. Both of her eyebrows quirk upward.

“Mhm.”

“Well, tell me about your friend, Alexander,” Martha says.

“Oh,” I say. “Um…well…his name is John Laurens, remember? I already told you about him. He’s from South Carolina. He’s sweet, kind, handsome, stubborn, and a little reckless. But…he uh…he’s just overall really sweet, Mom.” I grin like a schoolgirl on a crush, my knees up to my chest with the balls of my feet on the edge of the couch and my palm underneath my chin. My eyes flicker back up to Martha who grins at me. “He’s country. He’s got that country accent when he speaks. He’s defienetly built for the military, which he where he wants to be after he graduates.”

“A military man, hm?” Martha says.

I nod. “Mhm.”

“Well, Mr. Laurens seems like a nice young man,” Martha says. “Why don’t you invite him over for dinner this week? Your father and I would love to meet him in person—”

“No,” I say immediately. “No. No, no, and absolutely no.”

“Why not, honey?”

“I don’t want you and Dad to embarrass me in front of him and it’s bad enough Laurens get intimated Laf, he doesn’t need to be intimated by Dad too!” I say.

Martha sighs. “Oh, Alex. You’re just being paranoid. I’m sure it’ll be alright. Come on, Alex! Just one dinner! How about tomorrow night? Just that one dinner and that’s it. I promise. I’ll make your favorite!”

I press my lips together and search her face for anything. I sigh through my nose, long and slow, giving in and massaging the ache in my neck. “Alright, Mom. Just this one dinner. That is…if he wants to come over for dinner. I won’t force him if he doesn’t want to. His Dad is coming to visit him in a few days and he’s already stressed as it is.”

“Of course, honey,” she says. She clears her throat, a sign she’s wanting to change the subject. “Do you have any homework?”

I nod. “Mhm. Only a few assignments. Nothing much. A couple of essays to work on.”

“Alright. Why don’t you work on those while I have this call, alright?” Martha suggests. She sounds a little…eager to get me out of the office.

I nod and push myself up off the couch and exit her room, clicking the door shut behind me. I heave a sigh as I remember that George was going to bring me my bookbag home. I walk down the hallway, my head down as I watch one foot step in front of the other, my lips turned into a tight frown, my brows furrowed together. I reach my room, sucking in a gulp of air and push the door open. I slide into my bedroom, closing my door behind me and stand with a tired look on my face in front of the door. I turn towards the window above my desk, watching the rain clink softly against the window pane. It’s not as heavy pouring as it was while I was in class. The rain has surely died down somewhat but the wind still howls through the air, causing the branches to weave back and forth and the leaves to dance through the wind. Occasionally, there’s thunder, but it’s not as loud that it’ll trigger me.

I head towards my desk, pulling out my phone from my back pocket and clicking it on, checking my notifications. Other than a few posts from Instagram and a few tweets from Twitter, nothing. No messages from Lafayette, no messages from Laurens, no messages from either Sister, no messages from Dad himself. I click my phone off and set it down on my desk, pulling out my chair and scooting myself forward. I lift my laptop lid and turn on the computer. I shake the mouse, waking it up a little faster. That’s when I hear the ding go off.

Unknown: Hey, Alex. It’s me, John. John Laurens.

I feel a small grin on my face as I pick my phone up to reply to Laurens’s message.

Me: Hey, John!

I turn back to my computer, pulling up Google Docs.

John: Whatcha doin’?

I giggle as I quickly reply, my thumbs typing fast on the screen.

Me: Writing. Until George brings my bookbag home since that has my homework in it. You?

John: What do ya think?

Me: Stuck in class, huh? Must suck.

John: Yep. You’re lucky, Hamilton. I mean, why do we need to know about the Pythagorean Theorem?! Like what’s that going to do for us in life?!

Me: It is important, John.

John: I know, but still! Just staring at the stupid letters and stupid division sign over A squared plus B squared just gives me a migraine! And what’s the c equals stand for?!

I laugh, not a soft laugh, but a full laugh. My heart flutters, my stomach churning as I type a reply. I push myself up from my chair and start pacing, walking back and forth in front of the foot of my bed for a while until I decide to flop on the bed itself flat on my stomach with my legs kicking back and forth in the air, watching those three little dots around the bubble form.

Me: You’re just being a big baby, John. That’s why it’s called practice! And by the sound of it, looks like you need to pay more attention in class!

John: It’s stupid that’s what it is.

I let out a soft giggle, my palm pressed against the corner of my mouth with my elbow sinking into my bed, my feet still swinging back and forth in the air.

Me: Oh, John.

I can hear Laurens chuckle on the other end as he types out his next message. I pull up Google Docs and sniff, rereading the paragraph where I had stopped the previous night to refresh my memory before clicking away on my keyboard.

John: So, you’re still coming to the game on Friday night?

Me: I said I would, wouldn’t I?

John: Indeed. You did.

Me: So, what should I know about your father? So, I can like be prepared when I meet him as your “girlfriend.”

A pause and then I look over to see those three dots in the bubble. I grin a little, feeling my cheeks flush as I wait for his reply.

John: Well, my father can be a little intense at times. He’s uh…I really don’t know how to best describe him or explain him. I haven’t seen him over three to four years so…I couldn’t tell you. I guess it’s just one of those times where you’d have to figure it out yourself, you know?

Me: Yeah.

John: What should we call you? Like…for your female name?

Me: Um…we could just add an “a” to Alexander. So, it’d be “Alexandra” or “Alexandrea”. You can still call me “Alex” if you do that.

John: Okay! Cool! That’s totally fine by me! That is if it’s fine by you! If you want my personal preference, I like Alexandrea. It has a nice ring to it. Alexandrea Hamilton. It just rolls off easily, you know?

I smile, feeling the corners of my lips turn upward as I stare with a dreamy look at his response. It does have a nice ring to it…

Me: So…do I have to like where dresses or makeup like that?

John: If you’re going to be my fake girlfriend for two weeks.

I frown a little, staring at his response and rereading it to myself, my thumbs hovering over the little rectangular screen in front of me. I press my lips together as I type out my response.

Me: Just two weeks. It’s just two weeks, right?

John: Mhm. That’s how long my father plans on staying. And with my siblings apparently. Don’t worry, my siblings aren’t as bad as my father. Sure, they can be a little intimidating at times and a little annoying, especially my brothers, but they’re alright. I’m sure you and Martha (Laurens, not Manning) will get along pretty well, though she may be skeptical of you at first. Even she’s my little sister, she’s protective of me. Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?

I giggle.

Me: Yes, you are, John. But it’s alright, really. I don’t mind. Really.

John: If you sure about it. Alright, Alex. Well, I um…I have to go before Mrs. Wheeler whacks my head again for having my phone out in class.

Me: Ooh, being a rebel, are we?

John: Stop it, I’m trying to focus and you’re distracting me, Hamilton.

Me: Me? Distracting John Laurens…

John: Stop it.

I let out a laugh as I picture Laurens in his class, his pale, angular face a bright red as he types.

John: He’s blushing mad over here! It’s hilarious! You should see the look on his face, Hamilton! And he’s going to kill me now—

I frown, slightly confused, but I can feel the corners of my lips tug upward with amusement.

John: Sorry, Meade stole my phone.

I nod. Ah.

John: Well, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?

I smile, my heart fluttering.

Me: Yeah. See you tomorrow, Laurens.

I huff out a breath as I click my phone off and flop down onto the bed flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling with a dreamy look, a crooked grin on my face, watching the ceiling fan rotate in small circles.

It’s just two weeks.

Just two weeks.

What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

I STAND IN front of my locker at school, twisting open the combination lock back and forth until I hear a soft click. The lock opens and my locker swings open. I sling my shoulder strap of my bookbag off and let my bookbag slump to the ground against it. I bend over, pulling out unneeded supplies that aren’t required for English and stuff them inside my locker neatly. I hum to myself, a tune—a lullaby, to be exact, in French. It was a lullaby my mother used to sing to me as an infant. It still amazes me to this day that I can still remember the lyrics. I believe it’s a Beatles song, but my mother sang it in French. It goes:

Now it’s time to say good night
Good night, sleep tight
Now the sun turns out his light.
Good night, sleep tight
Dream sweet dreams for me
Dream sweet dreams for you.

I pause my task as my heart clenches at the memory of my mother cradling me in her arms, singing the lullaby softly to lull me to sleep. The memory is vivid in my head, clear as glass. Her voice, her soft, harmonic voice echoes through my mind. I can feel my hand start to tremble.

Close your eyes and I’ll close mine
Good night, sleep tight
Now the moon begins to shine.
Good night, sleep tight
Dream sweet dreams for me,
Dream sweet dreams for you.

I feel the corners of my eyes brim with tears. I chew on my lower lip, hard, hoping it would keep itself from trembling. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to blink the painful memory away. But it just won’t. It won’t go away. I see her in the nursey room back in St. Croix in the Caribbean, a small, kind smile on her beautiful face, her thin fingers stroking my freckled cheeks as she hums the lullaby to me. Her dark red hair, very much like mine, pulled in a low bun, letting a few locks of auburn hair dangle in front of her eyes. I bite my lower lip harder.

Close your eyes and I’ll close mine
Good night, sleep tight
Now the sun turns out his light.
Good night, sleep tight
Dream sweet dreams for me,
Dream sweet dreams for you.

I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes for a moment, desperately wanting the memory to go away but it just won’t. I open my eyes slowly turning toward my locker to find a photograph of my mother on the inside of the locker door. I stare at it blankly for a good while, my lips pressed tight, vision smearing together. I grit my teeth to keep myself from letting out a ragged sob. Her voice still echoes in my head.

Good night, good night, everybody
Everybody everywhere.
Good night.

I swallow the lump of tears down my throat before they could escape. I let out another shaky breath once the memory has finally faded from my head and let my fingers linger over the black and white photograph of her.

“Alex?” a voice says from behind me.

I yelp all of a sudden, a high-pitched sound, and spin around on my heels, lifting my arm and reeling it back, my elbow just a few inches behind my head, getting ready to throw a blow but I stop when I see Peggy standing behind me with her two elder sisters: Angelica and Eliza.

I lower my arm slowly, eyeing them wearily, my breathing somewhat quickening as it takes it’s time to calm down. Eliza and Angelica stand behind Peggy, clutching at their textbooks as they share a worried glance with each other before turning their attention back to me. Peggy arches an eyebrow, obviously worried but also unimpressed. She has her arms over her chest and she puckers her lips together as though she tasted something sour.

“Hey, guys,” I say, running a hand through my auburn curls and clearing my throat as I turn my attention back to my locker. “What’re you doing here?”

“You alright, Alex?” Angelica asks, raising an eyebrow.

I arch both eyebrows up in mock surprise and nod. “Mhm. I’m fine. Just uh…memories.”

“Oh,” Angelica says, obviously not believing me but decides to play along.

I continue shoving unnecessary supplies in my locker.

“Are you going to John’s game on Friday?” Eliza asks, her soft voice sounding hopeful. She brushes back a loose strand of dark brown hair behind her ear.

Peggy just rolls her eyes, making a face. Angelica whacks her sister at the back of her head. Peggy grimaces, shooting Angelica a look as she sticks her tongue out and massages the back of her head.

“Um…yeah, actually,” I say. “I am. I promised him I’d be there. To like support him, you know? Why?” I turn to face them. “Are you three going?”

“Mhm,” Eliza says.

I slam my metal locker door shut, twisting the lock until it clicks and scooping up my English textbooks and binders and notebooks close to my chest after swinging the strap to my bookbag over one shoulder. I stand in between Peggy and Eliza while Angelica stands on the either side of Eliza. The four of us maneuver through the crowded hallways as students open and close their lockers, getting their supplies for first period ready while some linger against their lockers, chatting with their friends or couples make out against them or bullies would be rambunctious and chase each other down the halls, whooping and hollering, jumping up and down and just being irresponsible.

“Hey, um…guys?” I say, after a moment of awkward silence.

The three of them turn to me.

“Have you uh…have either of you been in a fake relationship before?” I ask sheepishly, my voice small and feeble. Embarrassed, for some reason.

“No,” Eliza says. “Why?”

“Well…uh…you know how John broke up with Martha, right? His girlfriend?” I say.

The three nod, suddenly curious. I swallow the lump down my throat, biting my lip and scratching the back of my neck.

“This is probably going to sound awkward but um…John asked me something last night…”

“And?” Angelica prompts, raising an eyebrow.

I feel an uncomfortable warmth flooding through me. I don’t think it’s from the heat. “And um…well…heh…it’s kind of funny actually…well…um…John…John Laurens…he uh…he told me he um…” I lick my lips, keeping my head down in hopes it would hide this blush that I feel creeping up on me. “He told me last night and told me that uh…that he liked me…”

“Liked you?” Eliza says.

I nod. “Mhm. Like…like, like me…”

It takes them a moment, but once it clicks, Peggy eyes widen and both of her eyebrows arch upward. “Oh…”

“Yeah. And I’m flattered, really. I’m not even…you know…the 'G' word…but uh…he asked me yesterday if I wanted to uh…” I clear my throat awkwardly. “To uh…be his fake…be his fake…” Just spit it out, Hamilton! “To be his girlfriend.” A pause. "His...fake...girlfriend..."

Angelica bursts out laughing. I turn to her, narrowing my eyes confusedly at her, cocking my head to one shoulder slightly. The other two sisters do the same. “Oh man…oh man, that’s grate right there. Y-You’re…You’re joking, right?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not. He seriously wants me to be his fake girlfriend all because I have a feminine shape body. Because of that, he thinks it will make his father’s approval or something. I don’t know what’s going on in that South Carolina boy’s head but…how am I supposed to be his fake girlfriend if, one I’m a male, and two I’m not the 'G' word. I mean, I want to help him and support him, I do…it’s just…why me?”

A pause. No one answers.

“What does he see in me?” I mutter with a frown, my brows furrow together as I stare down at my white Nike tennis shoes.

“You know what this means, right, Hamilton?” Peggy asks, wiggling her eyebrows, a teasing smirk on her face.

I turn to her, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, confusion written all over my face as I shake my head. “No…?”

She grins wider and I have this sickening feeling that I don’t like this grin she’s giving me. She hooks her arms through both of her sister’s elbows. “Makeover!”

I gawk at her, jaw dropped, eyes blinking. Bemused.

“What?” I splutter, trying not to laugh.

“Makeover!” Eliza chimes, suddenly catching on. “We take you to the mall!”

“Um…okay—”

“And we turn you into a girl!” Angelica says, looping her arm around my shoulder as we continue down the hallways toward our classes.

“What?” I gasp, staring at her disbelievingly. Turn me into a girl?

“Do you already have a female name in mind, Alex?” Eliza pipes up, smoothing out her light blue sundress.

“Um…yeah, actually,” I say. “Alexandrea.”

“Alexandrea Hamilton,” Angelica tries. She shrugs approvingly. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Okay,” Peggy chirps, grinning devilishly as she claps her hands to get our attention. She jabs her finger at me. “You, me, Eliza, and Angie all go to the mall tonight, after school. We pick out dresses and makeup products plus the ones that us Schuyler Sisters already have and take you to get a pedicure for your nails and we do your hair!”

Instinctively, I reach my hand up to the back of my head, cradling my long, wavy dark auburn hair that’s pulled into a loose ponytail down the back of my neck. “I…I like my hair…”

“You’re not gonna get a haircut, silly!” Eliza laughs. “We’re going to style it!”

“To make it look more girlish,” Angelica chimes in,

Oh.

“I-I knew that…” I say.

“Girls night out!” Peggy exclaims, slinging her arms around me, nearly in a chokehold position.

Just what have I gotten myself into…?

***

After English, I stay a little while in the classroom once everyone has left. I stare at the essay prompt in front of my, the end of my pen tapping restlessly on my desk, my chin in my palm. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, chewing on it thoughtfully. My violet eyes flicker up to George’s gray-blue ones a few rows of desks ahead of me. He sits at his own desk, typing away on his keyboard to his computer, probably an email of a sort. George will sniff occasionally and occasionally push his glasses up the bridge of his nose before continue typing or grading papers. He let me stay back for a couple of minutes to finish up.

“Dad?” I say.

At the sound of his name, George’s head immediately flies up. He sits upright, spinning around to face me and frowns confusedly.

“Yes, Alexander?”

“How…How’d you and Mom fell in love?” I say. It’s the first tie I’ve asked him this personal question so this makes him stop his task immediately, almost abruptly. George turns to me over his shoulder, eyeing me worriedly before sitting in front of his desk, resting his hands on top of each other as he leans forward with his brows furrowed, a crease in his forehead.

“You’ve never asked that question, Alexander,” George says. “Are you feeling alright, son?”

I press my lips together and nod. “Mhm. It’s just um…well…I was just um…curious…is all…”

“Well, my boy, it’s a long story if you want it in full detail,” George says. “But…to put it simply, I was on a study hall break when I was your age in high school. During that break, I decided to go get a coffee and perhaps an afternoon snack as well. I went into the coffeeshop…and…that’s when I met her. I met her at the cashier. I started seeing her more and more after that day and pretty soon we shared our first kiss. Then about a week after that, I asked her out on our first date together and she said yes. I don’t remember where we went to but it was that night that with her bright eyes, her smile and kind heart that I knew…I knew just then…by heart…that she was the one.”

“The one you wanted to marry?” I ask, lifting my head up slightly.

George nods. “Yes.”

I smile a little against my palm. “How’d you know? How’d you know she was the one?”

George smiles a little. “Well, Alexander, I had this…fluttery feeling in my chest. Every time she walked into a room, my whole world just…stopped. It just stopped. Everything did. Every sound, every image. Just froze.” He picks up a frame from his desk, smiling fondly at it. Probably of Martha. “I don’t know, Alexander. I don’t know how I knew. But I knew.” He sets the frame back down and turns back to me. A smile appearing on his face. “And trust me. You’ll know too.”

A pause. I scoot my chair back from my desk, shuffling my papers into a neat stack and stuffing them into my bookbag which is propped on the chair.

“Done already?” George asks, an eyebrow raised.

I glance at him over my shoulder and smile. “For now. I have to get to Biology.”

I zip up my bag and swing it over my shoulders, sliding my arms through the straps before pushing my chair in and make my way toward the front of the desk.

“Of course, son,” George says, patting my hand gently before letting me go.

I swing the classroom door open and step out into the hallway halfway. I pause momentarily before glancing back at George over my shoulder.

“Hey, Dad?” I ask.

“Yes, Alexander?”

“The Schuyler Sisters are wanting me to hang out with them tonight at the mall. Are you okay with that?”

George’s eyebrows arch upward higher than before. He smirks, leaning back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. The chair creaks just as he leans back.

“The mall?” he says.

“Mhm.”

“You never go to the mall, Alexander. In fact, you never go anywhere besides the comfort of your own bedroom,” George reminds me. He frowns. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright, son?”

I nod again. “Yes, Dad, I’m fine! I feel fine! I mean, it’s always good to try something new. Plus, Laf will probably want to hear stories from me when he comes down for the holidays and I don’t think me telling him I stayed up three nights in a row working on my book would meet his requirements.”

George presses his lips together in a tight line, hesitating. He frowns again and sighs through his nose. “Alright. Just be back by dinner. What time do you plan on leaving?”

“After school,” I say. “I think Angelica’s going to drive us.”

“Alright,” George says. “Be back by dinner which you know is usually around six or seven in the evening. I have no idea what your mother has planned tonight but I’ll text you.”

“Thank you so much, Dad!” I yelp, practically bouncing on the balls of my feet.

“Yes, yes,” George mutters, waving me off like a fly on his shoulder. “Now go!”

With a wide smile, I zoom out of the classroom, letting the door flutter shut behind me.

***

“Heard anything from your Dad?” I ask Laurens once I’m in Biology.

Laurens shakes his head, scratching a note down from the white board while brushing back a loose strand of honey blonde hair out his rich, sky-blue eyes. “No.”

“Oh.”

I continue writing as well.

“Alex, listen,” Laurens says, setting his pen down on his notebook and fully turning towards me. This catches my attention. I look up, suddenly curious. “You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to or if it makes you uncomfortable. I apologize if it seems like I’m pushing you into doing this…”

I shake my head, a small, fond smile on my face. “Nonsense, John. I really want to do this.”

“You know what this means, right, Laurens?” Meade says with a smirk on his face as he leans forward against his desk a little to look past me and directly into Laurens’s blue eyes. Laurens raises his eyebrow, a sign for him to continue. Meade grins and connects his forefinger and thumb together and hook them through each other. I frown, glancing at Laurens who shrugs.

“He’s your lobster!” Meade laughs.

Laurens glowers at Meade, narrowing his eyes at his friend in a scarily way while ducking his chin towards his chest, arching an eyebrow. He folds his arms over his chest while I hide my smirk behind my palm.

“I so wish I could kill you right now, Kidder,” Laurens growls through gritted teeth.

Meade laughs. “But ya can’t!”

Meade stops. “But no seriously, Laurens. Alex is your lobster.”

“My lobster?’’ Laurens says, though it sounds more like a question.

“Yep,” Meade says. “You know? That Friends episode? Where Phoebe explains to Ross about him and Rachel and the whole lobster thing?” A pause. Laurens and I just stare at him, waiting for him to continue. "That's you and Alex right there."

“Oh, yeah,” Laurens says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. I’m still desperately trying not to burst out laughing. “I remember alright. Now can you shut up, Meade.”

“Rude,” Meade scoffs, turning his attention back toward the front of the classroom.

Laurens heaves out a long sigh out his mouth, shaking his head as he rolls his eyes before turning back towards me. His eyes gives me a look that says: “Help. Me.” I put both hands up, telling him that he’s on his own. Laurens groans, flopping his head down on his desk.

After Biology, which wasn’t at all terrible, I linger by my locker with my phone in hand, scrolling through and catching up on Instagram and Twitter and the news and politics. Got to stay informed about the politics if I want to be in law. I don’t know how much time has passed when I see a shadow over my shoe. I frown, pausing my scrolling, and glance up.

“Hey uh…Alexander…right? Alexander Hamilton?” says Charles Lee. He stands before me, leaning against my locker right next to me with his arms over his chest and a sketchy look on his face. I suddenly have this sickening feeling that I should run. But the curiosity gets the better of me.

I swallow, locking eyes with his, pressing my lips together in a straight line.

“Uh…yeah?” I say cautiously,

“I heard you were new to this school,” Lee says.

I start to inch my way away from him. “Yeah…?”

“And there are a few things you should know about this school, Hamilton,” Lee growls, inching his way close to me while I inch my back away from him. My heartbeat suddenly starts to kick up.

I swallow again. “And that is…?”

“We rule this school.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes, still inching slowly away from him. “And that’s supposed to scare me? You three are pathetic you know that?”

“You think we’re pathetic?” says a southern voice from behind me.

I bump into Jefferson himself, yelping with surprise and spinning around on my heels, making my shoes squeak against the white tiled floors. My violet eyes widen when they land on those hazel brown ones. Jefferson tilts his head, smirking with his arms crossed over his chest. I back up away from him, keeping a tight grip on my phone so it won’t fall out of my grasp, until I bump into Lee again.

I’m cornered.

Jefferson scoffs. “Says the one who’s afraid of little thunderstorms.”

I wince. I knew he was going to use that as an advantage.

“Mhm?” Jefferson says, slowly walking up toward me with an eyebrow raised. His arms are still crossed over his chest. “Where’s Prince Charming?” He looks around for Laurens. “There’s no one here to save you this time, Hamilton.”

“What do you want?” I hiss.

He doesn’t answer me. He just snaps his fingers and instantly, I feel two rough hands on either side of my arms. Flight kicks in and I thrash around, trying to yank my arms free from Lee’s grasp, trying to jab him in the ribs. My phone falling from the floor in the process. My eyes widen as Jefferson bends over to pick up my phone, my breathing quickening with dreadful anxiety, my heart pounding against my chest as I try to jab my elbows out of Lee’s grasp, grunting as I do so. I even try to kick him in the spot. I missed.

“Mmm…” Jefferson hums, arching an eyebrow as he stares down at my phone in his hand. “What’s this?” He smirks teasingly.

“Give it to me,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “Give it to me now.”

“What?” Jefferson says. “Are you hiding something, Hamilton?”

“No, I’m not,” I say sternly, narrowing my eyes at him. “It’s my phone. Give it to me.”

“Or what, little Hammie?” Jefferson teases, folding his arms over his chest as he steps closer to me. I swallow as I look up, wincing at my nickname. Jefferson leans down so our noses are almost touching, his cold breath against my lips as he cups my chin in his palm so I’m forced to look up at him. I snarl, teeth gritted together. “Gonna cry to big brother about it?” A pause. My eyes widen at the mention of James. Jefferson grins. “Oh, wait, I forgot…he’s dead!”

I gather up saliva in my mouth, swishing it around behind my clenched teeth before gathering up the courage to lean closer toward him, which takes Jefferson off-guard, confusion written over his face. I gather up my courage and spit directly on the bridge of his nose, right on the spot between his eyes. I grin a little, my cheeks warm with triumph.

“Fuck you,” I whisper sharply.

It’s silent in the halls. Students nearby linger against their lockers, their eyes widening with surprise, their faces pale. I’m assuming no one in this school has ever thought of doing what I had just done. Jefferson glowers at me, his nose scrunching up with disgust and his mouth twisting with hatred, his dark hazel eyes gleaming with fire, with pure anger. He growls like a dog behind his closed lips and before I know it, my head is tossed over my shoulder so I’m looking past Lee’s shoulder behind me, my eyes blinking rapidly, my chest tight and my heart beating so loudly I can hear it in my ears. I’m panting, hard, as though I had just completed a marathon, the air completely knocked out of me. There’s a satisfying crack as Jefferson tossed a punch to my jaw.

I feel Jefferson’s cold hand under my chin again and he grips it tighter so that I have to wince as he forces me to look deep into those intense eyes. I swallow, my violet eyes widening as he looms over me.

“No one, and I mean no one, Hamilton, insults me,” he whispers darkly.

I swallow again, my throat tight and grimace.

“You know what, Hamilton?” Jefferson whispers.

I swallow, but I don’t answer him. My violet eyes are still locked with his, my jaw clenched under his hand.

“You’re nothing without Washington behind you.”

“Hey!” says a voice from behind us, breaking the intense silence in the halls.

I close my eyes gently for a moment, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, a small grin appearing on my face. Laurens…

“Let him go!” Laurens demands, his feet stomping in the halls, his echoes bouncing off the walls.

Lee grins, his face close behind my ears. “Here comes Prince Charming…”

I reopen my eyes slowly, my small relieved smile turning into a scowl.

“Ah, ha, ha!” Jefferson laughs, leaning back from my personal space. “This just keeps getting better and better…”

“Let him go,” Laurens snaps, standing to our left with his muscular arms over his chest and an eyebrow raised.

“What’s the matter, Jacky Boy?” Jefferson hisses. Laurens grimaces at his nickname. His bright, clear blue eyes meet mine and I smile a little, trying to calm him down or to reassure him. Laurens returns the small smile before turning to Jefferson, his smile fading and his face becoming serious. “Cat got your tongue? Or does the cat got your boyfriend?” I feel my freckled cheeks grow incredibly warm at the word “boyfriend.” I press my lips together in a firm line and so does Laurens, a light blush crossing his cheeks, though he tries to stand his ground. Tries to remain calm.

“He isn’t my boyfriend, Jefferson,” Laurens says. “He’s my friend. There’s a difference. Now, if you please, I’d kindly ask you to release him.”

Jefferson scoffs. “Kindly?”

Laurens nods once. Sharp. Almost military like. “Yes.”

“Alright.”

Jefferson snaps his fingers and Lee reluctantly lets me go. I stumble over my shoelaces, the two boys behind me chuckling. I feel my face flush with embarrassment as I stumble towards Laurens who thankfully catches me in in his arms before I could fall flat on my face. My breath stops, hitches in my throat for a moment as I have my chest against his, my small hands on his strong, broad shoulders, his strong hands on my elbows to steady me. I swallow as I stare directly at his chest, where his heart is, and look up at him. He grins stupidly. I roll my eyes, standing up a little bit straighter and smoothing out my shirt and my auburn hair.

“You alright?” Laurens whispers into my ear. I shiver.

I smile reassuringly at him, nodding. “Yes. Thank you.”

“What happened to Jemmy?” Lee asks suddenly.

Laurens freezes, his eyes widening and his face becoming ghostly pale. He clenches his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. I frown, looking at Laurens straight in the eye. Jemmy?

“I’m curious, Laurens,” Lee says. “What happened to him?”

“You don’t need to know about that, Lee,” Laurens says, craning his neck slowly over his shoulder to lock his eyes with Lee’s.

“No, really,” Lee says, a smirk on his face. “He died, right?”

Laurens glowers at Lee, his face twisting scarily at him, his eyes closing for a moment before opening them again. Laurens takes deep breathes in hopes it will help calm his anger as he clenches his fist as his side.

“Under your supervision?” Lee says, arching an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know about this,” Jefferson interrupts. “This’ll be entertaining.”

Laurens, however, doesn’t say a word.

“How’d you know about that?” Laurens finally says.

“Well?” Lee says and then he shrugs. “You know what they say: Rumors only grow.”

A pause, silence fills the halls.

“Mmm…” Lee hums. “Pathetic. You are truly pathetic, Laurens. An irresponsible brother you are…”

My eyes widen as they flicker over to Laurens. Brother? Jemmy must be his brother… He didn’t tell me this…

“No wonder your Father hates you, Laurens,” Lee says.

Silence.

“First…Jemmy dies under your supervision,” Lee chuckles, shaking his head with pity. “From a tree.” A wince from Laurens as he tries to control his anger. I rest a hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes and smiles gratefully at me before scowling back at Lee. “Then Mommy dies…” Another wince. “And then Daddy got mad and kicked you out because you’re—”

“Enough,” Laurens hisses.

Lee just laughs. “Pathetic. You are truly pathetic, Laurens. Can’t even stand up to Daddy. Eighteen and still can’t stand up for himself. Eighteen and has no reputation. Eighteen and—”

Before Lee could finish, however, he’s tossed around and is slammed against the locker. I let out a shriek of surprise and whip my head back and forth, looking for Laurens. I gasp and take an involuntary step backwards when I see Laurens grabbing at Lee’s shirt collar in his fists and Lee pressed against the locker. Lee laughs darkly, shaking his head again and clicking his teeth.

“Shut up,” Laurens growls, curling his fists tighter.

Lee just laughs and laughs, rolling his eyes. “Or what, Laurens? Hm? You see this? This is what I mean when I say you’re pathetic. You’re reckless and brash and well pathetic. I mean, look at you. I don't know what that Hamilton boy sees in you."

Laurens throws a blow to Lee’s jaw, earning a satisfying crack as Lee’s head is tossed over his shoulder. Lee makes an “Oof” sound and hisses with pain.

I grin.

“You leave him out of this,” Laurens whispers.

“Mmm…no wonder Daddy’s disappointed in you, Jacky Boy,” Lee says. “You’re an embarrassment. A useless son of a bi—”

Before Lee could finish, Laurens throws an undercut directly under his chin. Lee laughs, high like nails on a chalkboard. He laughs as Laurens releases his anger, tossing punches left and right, pinning Lee to the locker. Students start to crowd around us, suddenly interested. I stand there like an idiot, shocked and to be fairly honest, terrified. I’ve never gotten into a school fight before, so I don’t know what to expect. I watch Laurens wide eyed, his knuckles already starting to bleed a little as he continues to throw punches left and right. Lee takes an opportunity and grabs Laurens’s shoulders and grips them hard. Laurens pauses, frowning. Lee grins when he swings around, pressing Laurens against the locker.

“My turn,” Lee whispers with a laugh. I glance at Jefferson in my peripheral, he smirks.

Laurens’s eyes widen again, totally taken off-guard. Lee swings a sickening punch to Laurens’s cheek, causing Laurens to toss his head over his shoulder. Laurens coughs, trying to catch his breath and breathing sharply. I wish there was something I could do, but I don’t know how or what…

Laurens growls, gritting his teeth as he grips Lee’s shoulders now, so hard his cracked knuckles turn white. Laurens steps up to Lee, away from the locker he was pressed against and tosses Lee to the ground. I yelp, stepping backward instinctively again. Laurens stands on top of Lee, grabbing fistfuls of Lee’s shirt collar and lifting him up off the ground. He swings multiple blows to Lee’s face, his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, his lip. Lee just laughs as he swings blows at Laurens in return. The two wrestle on the ground. I stare at Laurens with wide, terrified eyes as I back up away from the fight. I’ve never seen this side of Laurens.

It isn’t until I noticed a grazed cut on Laurens’s cheek and a bruised, split lip on Lee’s face do I decide to gather up my courage and stomp up toward them. I try to pry Laurens off of Lee, trying to pry his fingers off of Lee’s shirt collar. Students are now chanting “Fight, fight!” over and over again, clearly entertained.

“Stop!” I cry. “John! Stop! Stop it! John, stop it!” I continue to desperately pry Laurens’s fingers off of Lee. Laurens ignores me, his eyes red with anger, his face flushed and sweat drips from his hairline and down the side of his face to his chin.

“Stop it!” I scream, fear squeezing my chest. “John! John, stop it! Stop it! You’re going to kill him! John!”

“ENOUGH!”

There’s tension in the air as George’s voice booms throughout the hallway. My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes widening as they land on George who stands in front of his English classroom door. George has his blue eyes narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest and a tight scowl forms on his face.

I have my hands on Laurens’s chest, trying to push him off of Lee. Laurens stops, his breathing sharp and ragged, his beautiful blue eyes brimming with tears. He releases Lee, who just flops onto the cold floor. Laurens slowly stands up while my hands are still resting on his muscular chest. He looks down at my small hands on his chest then back up at me into my violet eyes. I stare up at Laurens, wide eyed and fearful. Laurens suddenly comes back to his sense and looks around the hall. When his eyes land on mine, Laurens’s angered expression softens. He locks his eyes with mine and frowns apologetically. I stare up at him still, shocked and scared. My eyes starting to brim with tears.

“Hamilton,” George booms.

I look over towards George, my hands still pressed against Laurens’s chest, almost at his shoulders. Instinctively, Laurens glances over his shoulder at George as well. I swallow.

“Meet me inside.”

Chapter Text

GEORGE HASN’T STOPPED pacing. He keeps pacing back and forth in front of his desk, occasionally glancing at me, occasionally huffing out a breath of frustration, occasionally pinching the bridge of his nose and then turning to face me and paces back and forth again. I sit at a random student’s empty desk, pouting like a child and cross my small, thin arms over my chest. I narrow my eyes at George, watching him pace for the thousandth time already. He’s mumbling something under his breath as he sneaks glances at me, huffing out frustrated breaths and pinching his nose again. I’m about to open my mouth to say something to break this unbearable silence, until George cuts me off. He finally stops pacing and fully turns to me, towering over me with a stern, disappointed look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I am very disappointed in you, Alexander,” George says.

“Dad, I don’t know what you heard but whatever it is, Jefferson started it!” I protest, slamming my hand flat on the desk.

George closes his eyes for a moment, clearly annoyed. He sighs long and slow through his nose while he pinches the bridge of his nose. He opens his eyes and leans against his desk, folding his arms over his chest as well and looking at me dead in the eye. I feel myself shrink involuntarily.

“I don’t care who started it, Alexander,” George snaps. “I’m still very disappointed in you.”

I duck my head towards my chest, not meeting his eyes.

“This is ridiculous, Alexander!” George says, tossing his hands up in defeat. He runs a hand through his light auburn hair. “You’re seventeen not a child! I…I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you right now, son.”

I wince and I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying, “I’m not your son.”

George sighs and crouches down to my level, resting his folded arms on my desk and locking blue-gray eyes with violet ones. He brushes back a loose strand of auburn hair behind my ear and smiles softly, tilting his head to one shoulder.

“I know this year has been rough for you…” George starts quietly. “With your brother gone in France for college. I know how close you two are. You two have a special brotherly bond.”

I smile a little, nodding with agreement. “Oui, we do, Pa.”

George smiles a little, laughing through his nose, then sighs, frowning as he looks back up at me again. “I’m still very disappointed in you, son.”

Silence. I duck my head down again. George lifts my chin up so I can meet his eyes.

“What happened to you, Alexander,” George says. “You used to be this…bright, bubbly, kindhearted kid now you’re…I don’t know…this isn’t the Alexander I know.”

I swallow. “I don’t know either, Dad. It’s…it’s partially adjustment, you know? Adjusting to the school, dealing with Gil being in France. Part of it is, let’s be honest here, anxiety, other is…”

“Is what, son?” George prompts.

I look back at him, shaking my head. “I don’t know, Dad. I know there’s a second part…I just…don’t know what it is…”

George frowns, brushing back another strand of hair behind my ears. I look back up at him.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I say. “I know I’m usually not like this…I just…I don’t know what’s going on with me. I think I’m going crazy.” I try to laugh, try to lighten up the mood, but it comes out rather choked. I blink my eyes, frowning again and resting my head on my arms.

A pause.

“Where’s John?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the desk.

“In the nurse’s office. Why?” George asks.

I shrug. “I just…I just want to make sure he’s alright…”

Another pause. George stands up suddenly from his crouched position in front of me and starts to pace again, shaking his head.

“No,” George snaps.

My eyes fly up as I instinctively stand up from my desk, pushing the chair back. “No?”

“No,” George says.

“Why not?!” I say.

“Because I said so, Alexander.”

“Dad, this is ridiculous! John and I got in one little fight and you’re telling me that I can’t see him?!” I protest.

“Alexander, son, I’m just trying to look out after you!” George reminds me.

“I’m not your son.”

A pause.

“Yes. Yes, Alexander, you are. Adopted or not you are my son and it’s my job, as your father, to protect you.”

“And what? You think keeping me away from the only friend I have in this school will protect me?” I put my hands on my hips, puffing out my chest like a lion, and arching an eyebrow challengingly.

“He’s not your only friend, Alexander,” George hisses.

I flash George an accusing look, opening my mouth to protest but then clamping it shut. He does have a point.

“Dad, it was just one little fight—”

“I don’t care if it was just one little fight, Alexander,” he snaps. “I’m still disappointed in you, son.”

“I’m not your son,” I mumble, keeping my eyes on my desk.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.” I say it hotly. “Dad…I get that you’re just trying to look out after me, I appreciate that. But Dad…you’re gonna have to learn to let me go. I’m not a little boy anymore—”

“I know you’re not a little boy anymore, Alexander. I still don’t want you around Mr. Laurens.”

“He defended me!” I snap. “John defended me, Dad! He…he punched the living daylights out of Lee for me!”

“Why is Laurens so important to you, Alexander,” George says, arching an eyebrow as he crosses towards me again. “Hm?”

I swallow thickly, thinking about our texts, thinking about Laurens, his eyes, his smile, his laugh. The way he makes my knees buckle underneath me. No…no, I can’t be feeling this way towards him. I’m just a friend… Who also happens to be his fake girlfriend… For two weeks…

“I don’t know, Dad! He’s my friend!” I say. “I just want to make sure he’s alright, is all…”

George closes his eyes and sighs through his nose, pinching the bridge of it and runs a hand through his hair. He scans the empty classroom for a moment, frowning, his brows furrowing together with thoughtfulness, a crease forming in his forehead.

“Please, Dad,” I say, walking up to him. “John is my friend. I…I like him, Dad. I like him a lot. He’s…he’s kind and sweet and has a good sense of humor. I just…I’m supposed to be supporting him at his football game this Friday and I promised him I’d be there. And I just want to make sure he's okay! Please, Dad. Let me go. Let me be a teenager!”

George sighs defeatedly, searching my face and then nodding. “Alright. But if he does anything to you, if he puts his hands on you, son, you tell me immediately.”

I roll my eyes, fighting off a grin. “Dad…”

“I’m just sayin’!” George says, both of his hands up. “Go.”

“Thank you, Dad!” I embrace him tightly for a moment before pulling off of him and rushing out of the classroom, letting the door flutter shut behind me.

***

I stand in front of the nurse’s office, staring at the rectangular glass window hesitantly. I chew on my lip, debating if I should enter or not. I look inside the window for either the nurse or Laurens. I don’t see the nurse but if I just crane my neck just perfectly, I can see Laurens on the nurse’s bed. Well, I can’t see him fully but I see his stupidly long leg poking out from around the corner of the door. I exhale shortly through my mouth and knock three times on the wooden door. I hear a muffled “Come in!” and I push the office door open, poking my head through the cracked open doorframe.

The nurse stands beside Laurens on the bed, cleaning up his small graze on his cheek. Laurens himself sits up on the bed, the sheet crinkling underneath him as he shifts his body uncomfortably, wincing at the coldness of the gauze pressed against his cheek. Laurens hisses sharply through clenched teeth, gripping the sheet underneath him, before relaxing against his pillows. He closes his eyes for a moment, before opening them. He turns and they land on mind. A smile crosses his face.

“Alex…” Laurens says, his voice croaky.

I smile a little, nodding at my name and enter the office. I slowly push the door shut behind me and walk toward his bed.

“Hey,” I say quietly, a warm smile on my face. “How’re you feeling?”

Laurens groans as he shifts a little, shifting himself up against his pillows and runs a hand through his honey blonde hair, huffing out an exhausted breath. He locks his eyes with mine again. “I’m alright. It’s not the first time I’ve been in fights like this. What about you, Alex? You alright?”

I nod and pull up a chair, flopping myself down in it and scooting myself closer to him. “Mhm. I’m fine. Barely a scratch. Unlike you…”

Laurens scoffs out a laugh, fiddling with his thumbs. “Yeah…sorry about that. He…Lee just ticked me off is all…”

I hum, nodding in understanding and then frown. “Who’s Jemmy?”

Laurens’s soft smile instantly fades into a frown. He hesitates, his blue eyes scanning me up and down before he sighs defeatedly, pressing his lips together in a straight line. He turns to the nurse, thanking her and asking her if he could have a moment of private with me. She nods and slides the curtain around Laurens’s bed for some privacy. I can hear her scoot her chair back and start typing away on her computer or jot something down on a sheet of her paper by the scratching of her pen.

Laurens sighs and sits up straighter against the pillows, his honey blonde hair loose from his ponytail. He presses his lip together and frowns, staring blankly at his hands. Laurens swallows as his blue eyes ticks back up at me.

“He was my brother,” Laurens says quietly. “My little brother. His name was James but we always called him Jemmy…”

A pause. I wait a moment but when Laurens doesn’t continue, I make the comment: “I used to have a brother named James,” in hopes it would help lighten the tension in the air.

Laurens smirks, huffing out a breath. And then he continues.

“I was in London at the time,” he says. "Visiting some old family relatives whom I haven’t seen in a few years and searching for schools for my brothers and I. James was under my care. I was supposed to keep an eye out on him and stuff like that. You know? Typical big brother stuff. Well, James wanted to go out and play outside. I said he can.”

A pause. Laurens stares at the curtain surrounding his bed. He swallows thickly, fiddling with his thumbs.

“He went outside to play and I stayed near the window so I can watch him while completing my studies at the school I was staying over in London. And…” Another thick swallow. “And then James climbed up the tree…while I wasn’t watching…and…and…” Laurens blinks his eyes rapidly, willing himself not to break down in front of me. “Well, you know what happens next.”

“He fell…” I murmur.

Laurens nods. “Mhm.” Another swallow. “He fell and…f-fractured his skull…”

“John…” I breathe, resting a hand on his arm and rubbing it up and down comfortingly.

He shrugs. “And he died…”

Silence.

“John…I’m so sorry…” A pause. “My brother, James, he…he died in a similar way.”

Laurens turns to me, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“We were in a hurricane,” I start, the memory vividly playing in my head. “We were trying to find a way to escape, trying to escape the terror from the storm. We paused by a nearby tree to catch our breath. We uh…We heard the tree itself snap. James looked up and realized the tree itself was starting to collapse due to the winds and stuff. So, instinctively, James pushed me out of the way. He pushed me out of the way. And the tree snapped and it…it crashed on top of him.” A beat. “He didn’t resurface…”

“Alex…”

I clear my throat, wanting to change the subject desperately. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“No…No, Alex, it’s not fine,”” he says. He takes my small hand in his large one. I smile a little at our size difference. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Do what?” I say stupidly.

“Become my fake girlfriend?” Laurens says. “I know it’s only two weeks but…my father…he can be pretty intense…”

I smile reassuringly. “Yes, John. I want to do this. I’m your friend, right?”

Laurens smiles, nodding. “Yes…that you are.”

***

After school, I follow the Sisters to their car. I hop off the curb, jogging up to catch up to them. I had already texted George that I was heading to the mall with the girls and that I should be back home roughly around dinner time. I had informed Martha as well and knowing my adoptive mother she has gushed all about it, telling me to send pictures of us and all that motherly embarrassing stuff. I climb into the back seat of Angelica’s car with Peggy next to me. Eliza in the passenger side and Angelica of course in the driver’s side. Angelica starts up the engine while Eliza scrolls through her phone, probably looking at dresses for me for my “dates” with Laurens when his father is around. Peggy claps her hands, getting my attention. I turn to her, startled.

“Alright, so, first things first dresses. What size are you Alex?” Peggy asks.

“Extra small,” I say with a shrug.

Peggy just blinks at me, shocked. “Extra small?”

“What? I’m 149 lbs.! Got a problem with that?!” I snap, sounding a little defensive.

“No! No! I’m just…surprised. I thought you would be a medium or a small at least. Not extra small,” she says.

I huff, folding my arms over my chest and rolling my eyes. “Let’s just get this over with…”

“What’s your favorite color, Alex,” Eliza pipes up from in the front.

“Green,” I say. “Any shade of green, really.”

She types something on her screen.

“Okay. So, what type of dresses are we looking here,” Angelica says from the front. “Flowy, there’s…something called cocktail dresses and there’s evening dresses and ballgown dresses and obviously wedding dresses.”

“I don’t need a wedding dress,” I cut in. “It’s not like I’m getting married to him!”

“I’m just sayin’!” she says, tossing one hand up while her other hand stays on the wheel.

“Well, I’m just sayin’!” I snap, folding my arms over my chest.

“Okay, people,” Peggy says, clapping her hands. “Let’s not argue about this! We need to get Alex ready for his date on Friday and the remaining ones!”

I roll my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. I already feel a migraine coming on. “It’s not a date, Peggy! I’m just pretending to be John’s fake girlfriend two weeks. After that it’s done!”

“I’m sorry! It’s not my fault you two look so adorable together!” Peggy says.

I just flash her a look.

“I’ll shut up now.”

A pause.

“Okay, we’ll figure out the dresses at the mall. Now, for hair.”

“Oh, God…” I mumble, massaging my aching temple.

“What hairstyles do you usually do, Alex?” Peggy asks as Angelica makes a left.

“Uh…usually I’d either put it a braid, a messy bun, or just a simple ponytail,” I say.

“Okay! We can make something out of that!” Peggy exclaims, excitement in her voice. “Now for makeup. I’m assuming you want green eyeshadow with everything you have to wear for this fake relationship with Laurens?”

I nod. “Mhm. You betcha!”

“Okay…what shade of lipstick do you want?”

“Lipstick?”

“What? You have to wear it if you want to look like a girl.”

I just roll my eyes.

“Um…not to be offensive or anything but…uh…what are we going to do about um…his…er…his chest…” Eliza asks, turning around her seat to face us and gestures towards her breasts. "Ooh! I know!" Peggy pipes up, her eyes wide and a teasing smirk on her face as she lifts a finger. All of us turns to her. "We can get him one of those things that Monica had when she worked at that 50's diner in that Friends episode!" Eliza and Angelica both bark out a laugh at the very thought, so does Peggy. I press my lips together, feeling my freckled cheeks grow warm. I groan, resting my head against the back of Eliza’s chair.

This is going to be a lot harder than I thought it was…

Chapter Text

I STAND INSIDE a store at the mall with Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy. We roam the shop for dresses that will fit me, that will match my personality or what we think Laurens would go head over heels for, or at least, that’s how Peggy puts it. I sit on the bench with my arms folded over my chest, watching the three teenage girls rummage through the rack of dresses in front of me. Eliza makes an “Ah ha!” noise and yanks off a beautiful, hourglass shaped emerald dress. It looks line one for a ball or a romantic evening dinner. It’s dark emerald with clear, light green sleeves and a thumbhole around the palm. It is beautiful, I must confess.

“What about this one?” Eliza asks. “It’s flow, smooth, fits your frame perfectly.”

I shrug. Why not? “Alright. I’ll give this one a go.”

I snatch the dress from Eliza and storm off into the fitting rooms. I open a stall door and walk on inside, closing the door behind me gently. I lock it. I slip off my clothes and switch into the dress. I turn and face the mirror behind me, my breath hitches. It’s beautiful…absolutely gorgeous. It’s definitely made for a ball or a romantic evening dinner. It fits me perfectly. The dress touches the ground, covering my feet. It’s simple, no creases in it or anything like that. Just a simple dark emerald green dress that shapes out my narrow waist and my slightly wide hips.

I stare at my reflection, stunned. With my hair out of my usual kept ponytail, this is exactly how my mother looked like. It’s like I’m staring right back at her in front of me. In the mirror in front of me, she smiles softly. Her dark auburn hair flowing around her shoulders, wearing the same emerald green dress I am and her violet-blue eyes glinting, her light freckles are scattered across her cheeks like mine and she nods at me.

“Alex!” Angelica calls, startling me from my gaze. She raps her knuckles against the wooden door. I jump, startled, blinking. “You okay in there?”

I whip my head over towards the mirror, staring at my reflection. I don’t see her. Not anymore. It’s not her who I look into, it’s me. I sigh lightly and turn back towards the closed door.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m fine.”

“You need any help?” Eliza asks. “Is there a zipper you need help with or something?”

“No, no, I got it on.”

“Well, come on, now! Let’s see!” Peggy says excitingly.

I chew on my lip, hesitating. I swallow and then push the door open. The girls gasp.

“Well?” I say, smoothing out the lower half of the dress. “What do you think?”

“Give it a twirl!” Peggy gasps, her eyes wide.

I grin, spinning around in a circle, letting the dress flow around me, my arms spread out on either side as I turn.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Eliza squeals, clapping her hands and bouncing on the balls of her shoes. “Definitely! Definitely the one!”

“John is going to lose his shit when he sees you, Alex,” Angelica snickers, her arms over her chest, a smudge look on her face.

I let out a giggle, looking back down at the dress and spin around again.

“I like this one,” I say immediately. “I like this one!”

“We got one! We just need a few more!” Peggy says, before rushing out of the fitting room to grab another dress.

While she does that, I reenter the fitting room I was just in and change out of the dress and slip into the clothes I had on. I open the door to find Peggy already back with another dress. This one is a boat neck shaped lined dark green dress. It’s not to buffy or big like a ballgown, just simple like the other one. It shapes out my waist and my hips and also covers up my feet. It’s sleeveless though it does have the shoulder straps. It feels incredibly soft, almost like silk. The Sisters stand behind me after I had changed into this one, staring at me in the mirror, gazing at my beauty.

“John will also lose his shit over this one,” Eliza mumbles breathless, a goofy grin on her face and her hand on my shoulder.

I giggle. “He probably will.”

After an hour or so of dress hunting, the Sisters and I exit the shop with bags full of different shades of green dresses hanging from our arms. We maneuver through the crowded hallways of the malls, mumbling apologies as we accidently bump into some people. We’re practically skipping down the halls, laughing at random things, telling random childhood stories and memories, the Sisters teasing one another, teasing me above all else because of my fake relationship I’m being in with John Laurens and the fact that I’m being a pretend girl.

We enter the food court in the mall, the radio speakers blaring The Weekend’s “Save Your Tears” from the ceiling. I slide my bags up my arms, sliding my free arm over Peggy’s shoulder. Eliza’s laugh bubbles into my chest as she leans into me while Angelica horribly sings along to this song on the radio. We reach the Chick-Fil-A stand in the Food Court, laughing like idiots and being idiots really. We have our afternoon lunch I should say, sitting in the Food Court together with our bags by our feet. The song playing in the distance but still can clearly be heard. I bob my head up and down to the beat of the music as I munch on my chicken sandwich. Peggy pulls out her phone from her back pocket and slides around the table so she’s next to me. Angelica on the left side of me while Eliza slides over next to Peggy. Peggy flips on her camera so her screen is now filled with the four of us seated on the bench. She holds her phone out in front of her, smiling wide. She angles her phone just right and clicks on the white circle on the bottom of her phone. A selfie of us has been taken.

After the Food Court, my phone buzzes in my pockets. I pull it out quickly and the four of us come to a stop, wondering who could be calling me at this hour. Without reading the caller ID, I press the ACCEPT button and put the phone on speaker.

“Dad for the last time! I’m fine!” I whine into the phone as the four of us continue walking throughout the mall with our bags dangling from our arms and left over food in hands. I sip on my Diet Coke.

“Um…Petit Lion…I’m not…er…how you say…Dad,” says a familiar French accented voice.

My eyes lit up as I gasp. “Laf!”

He chuckles. “Hey, Little Lion.”

“Little Lion?” Peggy says, arching an eyebrow.

I gesture to my red hair. “A nickname.”

She nods. “Ah.”

I turn my attention back to my brother. “Hey! How…when did you land?”

“About a few days ago.” He pauses as the music from the speakers fills the phone. I can feel him frown on the other end of the line. “Mon ami…where are you?”

“Oh…uh…heh heh…um…I’m at school!” I stutter. The four of us make a left.

“At school?” Lafayette says suspiciously. I can feel him raise an eyebrow.

I nod even though he can’t him. “Mhm!”

“What’s that music playing?” Lafayette demands.

“Um…uh…we’re uh…” I stutter. I’ve never had the reason to lie to Lafayette before.

“You’re what?” Lafayette demands.

I press my lips together and sigh through my nose. “I’m at the mall, Gil.”

“The mall!” Lafayette shrieks. The four of us wince when his voice comes through the speaker. I have to pull my phone back from my ear before putting it back up against my ear again.

Angelica snorts and Eliza just smirks as we walk down the walkway to a different store and Peggy just giggles at Lafayette’s protectiveness.

“The mall?” Lafayette says.

“That’s what I said,” I say.

“Wha…Wha…Why are you in the mall, Alexander! I thought you were at school! Does Dad and Mom know?! Oh, God! T-The mall! Mon dieu, Alexander! Avec qui etes-vous?! Quelqu’un vous a-t-il touché?”

“Gil, Gil, relax. Relax. Breathe. I’m fine. I’m fine. Yes, Mom and Dad both know. I already asked George’s permission and he said I could and I already texted them both and let them both know when to expect me home. I’m with the Schuyler Sisters and we’re um…I’m um…” I swallow. “I’m helping the girls pick out their dresses for uh…for uh a dance party they’re throwing!” It’s a weak lie but I think he believes me. “No, Gil. No, no one has touched me. So, clam the hell down.”

“Mon dieu,” Lafayette mumbles. I can easily picture him massaging his temple with relief. “My er…my apologies, Alexander. It’s just…the mall is pretty big for someone so small like you.”

I pause my walking, folding an arm over my chest and stare off into space, bemused. The sisters, however, burst into laughter, doubling over each other at the joke. I can feel Lafayette grinning on the other side when he hears the Sisters wheezing next to me. Angelica pats my back sympathetically.

“I’m about to hang up, Gilbert,” I say in a stern voice, as though a parent were scolding their child.

“Non! Non! No! Don’t, Alexander! I was just joking, mon petite lion! Come on, Alex! I was joking!” Lafayette sighs. “No, really, Alex. Malls can be dangerous and well…you know me. Big protective brother.”

I smile a little. “I know, Gil.”

“So, how’s my favorite little lion?” Lafayette asks in a teasingly way.

“Gil, stop it.”

“What?”

“My friends are right next to me,” I say.

“So?”

“This is why I don’t take you anywhere with me, Gil,” I sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You’ll start to act like this.”

“Oh, come on, Alex! I’m your brother! That’s what brothers do!” A pause. “So, uh…have you um…how’s school been? You doing okay?” \

“Yeah, John invited me to his football game on Friday,” I say.

“Mon ami! That’s amazing! Wait…John?” Lafayette says. “You mean John? As in John Laurens?”

“Yeah. What? What is it, Gil?” I say.

Lafayette shakes his head. Though I can’t see him do that, I can feel him doing it. “Nothing, Alex. Just…took me by surprise is all. I mean, I’ve seen Laurens. But I haven’t actually talked to him or anything. He’s just…he’s always been mysterious to me. But not so bad, I assume, no?”

I shake my head, chuckling at his French accent. “No, Gil. He’s not that bad. He’s sweet. He’s kind. He’s…okay, let’s be completely honest here, handsome and incredibly hot.”

The girls snort while Lafayette smirks. Again, I can feel him smirking on the other end of the line.

“But no, Gil, he’s not that bad,” I say.

“Good. Good. How’re George and Martha?” Lafayette asks.

“They’re doing good,” I say. “Yeah. They’re fine. How was the plane ride?”

“It was alright. Long and boring but…alright. We only hit one turbulence which wasn’t that bad.” A pause. “Oh, Alex! Guess what?!”

I smile fondly at Lafayette’s cheeky, excited voice on the other end of the phone. I raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“I met someone!”

I skid to a stop abruptly, causing the girls to almost knock into my back behind me, my shoes squeaking against the tiled floors, my eyes widening a little and my heart stopped beating for a second. I knit my brows with confusion, tilting my head a little to one shoulder. My eyebrows are still raised.

“M-Met…Met someone?” I say.

I can feel Lafayette nod with excitement. “Uh-huh!”

“And um…who is this someone?” I say.

“His name is Hercules! Hercules Mulligan! He’s in the same college I’m going to here in France and guess what?!”

“What…?”

“He’s a tailor!” Lafayette gasps, almost dreamily. “He wants me to model for him! Can you believe it, Lion? A model and being an actor!”

“Um…”

“He’s so sweet, too! Like your John! He’s sweet and kind. He’s incredibly handsome! Hot, too! He’s smart and just…oh, Alexander! You would love him!”

“He um…sounds er…interesting, Gil,” I stutter, which is saying something because I never stutter. That’s a flaw right there and Lafayette is able to detect it. It also means that I’m one, either hesitant about something when I stutter, or two, I don’t approve of something and Lafayette is able to detect which one it is.

“You don’t approve, do you?” Lafayette says, his voice suddenly cold and serious and a little defensive.

“What?! No! No! I do! I do! Hercules sounds like a nice guy! I’m…I’m really happy for you Gil! Really! It’s just…okay, maybe I am a little…worried about you being with him. Or…okay…maybe a little protective…” I confess.

Lafayette laughs, making my chest feel light, a fond smile dances across my freckled face as his laugh fills my ears. “Oh, mon ami. Relax! It’s okay, Alex! Really! He hasn’t done anything to me and he always asks permission. We only met today, this afternoon.”

“Where’d you two um…where’d you two meet?” I say.

“At a coffee shop!” Lafayette says.

I frown. That’s where George and Martha met…or so George told me… “Oh…well, I’m really happy for you, Gil.”

“Thank you, Alex! Well, I um…I have to go. I’m at the hotel I’m staying in for a few days until I hear from the college which dorm I’m staying in. I love you.”

“Love you too, Gil. Be careful, okay?”

“Okay. I will. You be careful too.”

“I will,” I giggle softly.

“Love you, lil’ bro,” he says.

“Love you too.”

He hangs up. I stare at my phone in my hand with a blank, shocked look. Lafayette found someone already. My brother. My older brother found someone. Wow.

I blink my eyes out of my shocked daze and click my phone off, clearing my throat before turning back to the Sisters. Eliza smiles sweetly at our brotherly bond with each other, Peggy grins with her arms folded over her chest with her bags dangling from her arms and Angelica in very much the same position as Peggy but she has an eyebrow raised. I tuck my phone into my back pocket and rub the back of my neck awkwardly. “Um…sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, Alex,” Eliza says sweetly, resting her hand on my arm.

“What time is it?” I wonder aloud.

“Almost 4:30,” Angelica says, clicking her phone on to check the time before quickly tucking it away.

“Okay, we still have enough time,” I say. With a wicked grin, I grab Eliza’s and Peggy’s elbow and drag them towards a shop in the mall. “Come on! Let’s go!”

***

We exit the mall around 6:30 in the evening, bubbling with laughter and being complete idiots as we head towards the car, our arms filled with bags of different dresses for me to use for mine and Laurens’s fake dates and such and random shirts and I think Eliza got a couple of polishes for her nails while Angelica has purchased some makeup products for both me and herself and Peggy has found more yellow colored clothing whether that’d be dresses, shirts, or jackets or even tennis shoes.

I swing my side door open and climbed on in the backseat, still giggling. Peggy crawls in after me, stuffing the bags down in front of her feet and behind Angelica’s seat. She grins widely, slamming the door shut behind her as she buckles herself up. I reach behind me to grab the seatbelt and slide it across my chest.

“That was amazing!” I gasp through a laugh. I grip my knees. “We should do this more often!”

“Well, become someone’s fake girlfriend more often!” Peggy teases with a smirk, wiggling her eyebrows.

I shoot her a look, my arms crossed over my chest. She just laughs. “Not funny, Peggy. This is one time deal, okay?”

“I’m just teasing you, Alex!” Peggy says through her laugh.

I roll my eyes, though the corners of my lips are turned upward a little.

“Come on, we need to drop Alex off,” Angelica says with a giggle.

“We should give him a make over tonight!” Eliza suggests.

We all stare at her as though she were crazy. Eliza glances at all three of us, her smile turning into a frown as she blinks, cocking her head to one shoulder while arching an eyebrow.

“What?” she says.

“Now?” I say, breaking the awkward silence. “You want to transform me into a girl now?”

“Yeah!” Eliza says. “It’ll be so much fun!”

“But we have school tomorrow,” I remind her. “And George is expecting me home by now…”

“Oh, Alex!” Eliza says with a “pshh” noise. “Relax! We’re doing it over at your house!”

“My house?” I say stupidly. “Wait…now?” I wince when I hear my voice crack at the word “Now.” Puberty.

“Yes, now!” Eliza giggles. “I’m sure your parents won’t mind, Alex!”

“Yeah, Alex!” Angelica says. “Come on! We all could use a break from that hellhole.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying,” I mumble, glancing down at my fingers that’re on my lap.

“What’s wrong?” Peggy asks, resting her hand on my shoulder.

“Well…I’m uh…I guess I’m just nervous, you know? I mean…I’ve never been in a relationship with anyone before and—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angelica says quickly, cutting me off. “You’ve never dated anyone?”

I shake my head. “Mhm. Was I supposed to?”

Angelica closes her eyes for a moment and huffs out a long breath. “Oh, God.”

“What?” I demand, suddenly eager to know the secrets behind relationships. If there are any.

“This is going to be so entertaining,” Peggy murmurs.

“What?” I say, suddenly becoming defensive. I cross my arms over my chest, looking at the three accusingly with my hands tucked under my armpits. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re telling me, Alexander. The Alexander. The Alexander Hamilton,” Angelica starts, slowing at a stoplight and she turns her head around the head seat and narrows her dark brown eyes at me, burning into my soul. I feel myself involuntarily shrink in my seat against her penetrating gaze. I press my lips together in a straight line. “Alexander Hamilton, are you…are you a virgin?”

Silence.

If you want the honest answer, I am. I swallow, locking my violet eyes with Angelica’s beady dark brown ones. I chew on the inside of my cheek, hesitating.

“Yes.”

Silence. And then—

“Oh. My. God.”

Something tells me our two week fake relationship plan isn’t going to end well…

Chapter Text

I PACE IN my bedroom back and forth. The Sisters perch themselves on the edge of my bed or on the foot of my bed and drop the bags onto the floor. My violet eyes are wide, my face pale, my fingers tugging at my dark curled auburn hair. Angelica had told me Laurens was using me into dating him. Angelica had explained to me that Laurens had a thing for me ever since I had arrived at King’s. But he’s kept it a secret. He had a thing for me. He was in love with me. John Laurens is in love with me. That’s why he asked me to be his fake girlfriend… not just because I have a woman’s body shape but because… He’s in love with me. John Laurens is in love with me.

“Would you calm down? You’re making me nervous,” Peggy says as she flops back down onto my bed, scrolling through her phone lazily. Her walnut curls flowing all around her in a sea of brown over her shoulders, framing her light brown face and spraying all over my pillows. Eliza sits on the edge of the bed, munching a cookie Martha had offered her when she introduced herself to her while also scrolling through what I think is Tik Tok on her phone. I couldn’t tell properly from my peripheral, chuckling at a couple of videos. She has one leg crossed over the other, her light blue dress framing her shape beautifully. It has the shoulder straps but it’s sleeveless. Her dark brown hair laid out against her back and letting a few strands of hair over her shoulders, a few bangs dangle in front of her rich brown eyes. Angelica sits at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised as she watches me pace back and forth, back and forth while I constantly chew on my nails as anxiety fills my chest and mind. She wears a simple black long-sleeved shirt under her punch pink colored leather jacket and blue denim ripped jeans and simple white flats. Her wavy dark brown hair is pulled up into a bun, letting just a few bangs dangle in front of her dark brown eyes, framing her dark brown skinned face beautifully.

I glance at the Sisters for a quick moment before turning my attention back to my feet, watching one foot in front of the other, my heart pounding expeditiously.

“This is me calming down!” I protest, chewing on the tips of my nails, my eyes blown wide.

“Alex, dear,” Eliza says sweet, clicking her phone off and setting it gently on my nightstand. She stares a moment at the framed photograph of my old family. Of my mother and father and a younger version of me next to my older biological brother, James. My throat clenches at the thought of his name. She clears her throat, her small smile returning when she turns to me. She pushes herself up from the edge of the bed and grabs my shoulders. I stop pacing and Angelica lets out a breathy, “Finally…” with a roll of her eyes.

I frown at Eliza, confused yet surprised at the same me. Up close, Eliza’s eyes appear to be black more than brown which makes this even more intimidating. She grips my shoulders and pulls out my chair from my desk and forces me to sit down.

“Sit,” Eliza demands, jabbing her finger at me. “Calm down.”

“He…He loves me,” I say for the thousandth time.

A pause.

“Oh, God…Eliza, he’s in love with me!” I shriek, my violet eyes blowing wide again as I go back at tugging at my hair, drawing my knees up to my chest. My breathing quickening, my chest tightening, my heart beating so loud I can hear it in my ears. It’s then that I realize that I’m panicking. “Oh, God…Oh, God…Oh, God!” I feel myself shrinking reflexively against my chair. “Oh, God…what am I going to do?! What am I going to do?! I-I’m not even—”

I feel Eliza press her finger against my lips. I stare at the tip of her finger just underneath my nostrils confusedly before my eyes flicker up to hers. She smiles scarily sweetly.

“Alex,” Eliza says, “shut up.”

“But—”

“Nah-ah!” she says. “Shut up.”

I open my mouth against her finger to protest but then clamp it shut with a huff as I cross my arms over my chest and stare at the mirror in front of me begrudgingly. Well, it looks more annoyed.

“Now,” Eliza begins, swinging my chair around to face the mirror. She combs her small, thin fingers through my tangled auburn hair. She pulls out my hair from its braided ponytail and lets it naturally cascade around my shoulders, shaping out my angular face. “Let’s not think or talk about this right now. Let’s relax and have some fun. Okay?”

I stare at my reflection in front of me, frowning with annoyance and my arms are still crossed angrily. I lock eyes with eyes across from me, my jaw clenched, shoulders tensed.

“Okay…” I mumble.

“Angie?” Eliza says.

“Yeah?” replies Angelica curiously.

“Hit the music!” Eliza exclaims with a wicked grin on her face.

Angelica nods with a sly grin as she presses the play button on Spotify. I tell her I have a Bluetooth speaker somewhere in my room. After a few minutes of searching, she finds it, connects her phone to it and sets it down on my nightstand before grabbing her makeup products and standing next to her younger sister. Peggy, meanwhile, clicks her phone off and reaches across my bed to grab the bag by the floor where Eliza was sitting and pulls out the first dress randomly and lays it out smoothly at the foot of the bed. I watch the girls work together. Eliza fixing my hair, Angelica doing my make up while singing to Ariana Grande’s “Positions” that’s playing on her phone, and Peggy organizes the dresses in the order she wants me to wear them in out on the bed. Meanwhile, I just sit in the leather desk chair with my arms crossed over my chest.

About a boring hour later, Eliza and Angelica are done with my hair and makeup. The music still plays when I stand from my chair to admire my new appearance. The Sisters step aside a little. I walk up to the mirror, my eyes wide with awe and my lips parted a little with shock. I do look like a woman…

Eliza has done my red wavy hair up in a French roll hairstyle, letting a few of my bangs dangle in front of my ears, framing my sharp, freckled cheeks. My violet eyes glisten against the sunrays, making me even beautiful without the dress on yet. My make up is pretty simple. Angelica had used something called foundation to hide whatever acne I had, though my freckles are now lighter through the liquid on my skin. They’re more of a light brown than a dark red now. My freckles on my cheeks are barely visible. They’re faint, I should say. Since all my dresses are green, Angelica had made my eyeshadow green. She used emerald green for my eyeshadow to match my dresses I’ll be wearing. She also has done a winged eyeliner over my eyes and of course, simple black mascara to make my eyelashes full and long. She chose a wine-red colored lipstick to match my dark auburn hair, making my lips full and smooth. My cheekbones are defined too, my jaw is defined and angular. I look…

Beautiful.

“Well,” Eliza says sheepishly, breaking the silence in my room. “What do you think, Alex?”

I’m speechless. For a few moments, I couldn’t find my voice. But I grin and glance at the girls behind me, looking at me expectantly. Dreadfully waiting for my answer.

“Wow…” I breathe and then glance back at myself back at the mirror. “I look…this…this is incredible! I-I’m speechless…I…I look back at the mirror in front of me. “I look like a woman!”

“Just wait until you put on the dresses!” Peggy exclaims excitedly. “John would lose his shit!”

“He’s going to be drooling over you, Alex!” Angelica says. She grabs the first dress off the foot of the bed and tosses it at me. “Put it on! Put it on!”

“Okay! Okay!” I giggle, fumbling for the dress before it collapses onto the floor out of my arms. “I’m going!”

“Alexander!” I hear Martha call from downstairs just as I pause outside the bathroom in the hallway, still clutching the dress, still wearing the hair and makeup. “Mr. Laurens’s here!”

My eyes widen and I freeze. Laurens… Shit. I forgot he was coming over for dinner to meet my parents! Shit, shit, shit! Okay, okay. Breathe. Breathe, Alex. Breathe.

I glance downstairs to get a look at him. He’s wearing a simple dark blue dress shirt and khaki pants and regular old tennis shoes. His honey blonde hair is pulled back into his usual loose ponytail, draping over his neck, a few bangs dangle in front of his sky-blue eyes. He laughs at George’s remarks when he enters, his warm smile instantly making the corners of my lips turn upward. I chew on my lip as Martha calls my name again, letting me know for the second time that Laurens was here.

I rush into the bathroom, locking the door shut behind me. I slip out of my clothes and change into the dress. It’s the boat-neck one with the shoulder straps. The dark green dress framing out my slim body, shaping out my narrow waist and my slightly wide hips. My auburn hair is still intact in its bun. I take a quick glance at my reflection. I do look like a woman. I grin a little to myself as I picture Laurens downstairs, seeing me walk down the stairs wearing this, his jaw dropped, eyes wide, a light pink blush forming on his cheeks.

“Alexander!” George calls. “Come on, son! Dinner’s ready and John’s here!”

“C-Coming!” I say. I gather up my clothes from the bathroom floor and quickly rush into my bedroom, slamming the door shut. I press my back against the door, eyes blown wide, muttering curses to myself.

The three sisters turn to me confusedly.

“Alex?” Peggy says, arching an eyebrow.

“He’s here!” I yelp breathlessly.

“Who’s here, Alex?” Eliza asks.

“John!” I nearly scream. I swallow, sucking in a huge gulp of air. “John Laurens. He’s here! He’s in the house! Shit! I forgot I had told him my parents invited him for dinner tonight! Shit! Shit! Shit! What am I going to do?! What am I going to do?!”

“Okay, okay, breathe!” Peggy says, hopping off the bed and walking toward me, guiding me to my bed. “Breathe!”

“Yeah, I tried doing that Peggy!” I say. I tug at my hair gently, careful not to undo Eliza’s hard work.

“Alexander!” George yells from downstairs, his voice slightly muffled from behind my closed door.

“Just go!” Angelica says. Before I could open my mouth to protest, she swings my bedroom door open and pushes me out, grinning devilishly.

“But—”

The door slams shut before I could even finish. I stand in front of it, panting with my violet eyes wide. I glance over my shoulders down past the railing. I see Laurens’s back just below the panel. I bite my lower lip, swallowing hard and close my eyes for a moment. I inhale for a few seconds and then slowly exhale out my nose, long and slow and slowly reopen my eyes.

I lift a hand up and gently place it on the wooden stair rail. I stand at the top of the stairs, standing unusually straight and squaring my shoulders and keeping my head high, jaw clenched. I narrow my violet eyes down the steps, trying to see if I can spot Laurens from underneath the wall panel above the stairs. I can spot his back, but I can’t see his full back or his handsome face. I swallow thickly, my throat clenching with nervousness before slowly letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I sink my teeth into the bottom of my lip. I start to descend down the stairs slowly, taking my time.

Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, I grin a little. I see Laurens’s back facing me, his head facing my parent’s as he chats with them, leaning against the kitchen counter with his muscular arms crossed over his chest, laughing at a remark George had said or a childhood memory of either Lafayette or of me Martha had shared to him. George smiles as Laurens continues to introduce himself and nods occasionally, but when his gray-blue eyes lands on my violet ones, George freezes.

I hiss in a breath through my nose, suddenly coming to a stop. My brain saying “Flight! Flight! Flight!” in the Flight or Fight response. I stare at George wide-eyed, the blood draining from my face and my heart stopped beating for just a moment. I grip the rail tightly, so tight my knuckles turn white. George’s small smile fades into a surprised frown, his brows knitted together with confusion yet surprise written over his face, creases form in his forehead as he cocks his head to one shoulder. Laurens must have suspected something was wrong by George’s expression because Laurens also shows the same expression and his conversation stops midway. I feel myself grow tense, my shoulders arching towards my ears as I hiss in a breath and hold it. I press my lips together in a straight line when I see Laurens’s heels start to turn in a half-circle. Well, here goes nothing… Rest in peace, Alexander…

Laurens spins around on his heels and his rich, sky-blue eyes widen when they land on me. He stops, his breath hitching in his throat, his jaw hanging open. I couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. Just like I pictured. Lips still pressed together, I force my stiff legs to march slowly toward Laurens, purposefully making my hips sway as I walk toward him. I reach Laurens, my chest almost touching his. I look up, locking eyes with his and smirk devilishly.

“A-Alex?” Laurens says breathlessly, still shocked at my new appearance.

In my peripheral, I see George and Martha in the kitchen glancing at each other with wide eyes and jaw dropped before quickly doing a double-take and turning back to face me. I smirk wider before my eyes flicker back to Laurens.

“Is this what you were talking about, Laurens?” I whisper.

“I…I…” Laurens’s voice chokes as he speaks, stunned. “I…A-Alex?”

I nod, my voice still in a hushed whisper. “Mhm. It’s me, John.”

“What…?”

“Well,” I say, tracing small circles on his chest with my finger before glancing back up at him, my body still pressed against his. “How am I supposed to be your fake girlfriend if I’m not a woman?”

“I…” Laurens says. “Wow…you look…amazing…beautiful…”

I make a “Hmm” noise. “I thank you, John.” I smooth out any wrinkles in his shirt before looking back up at him. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“A-Alexander?” I hear George’s strained gasp from behind me.

I whip my head over my shoulder, my hands still on Laurens’s chest. I grin at George, fully turning around to face him before sliding my hand against Laurens’s slightly larger one and interlacing my small fingers through his. He flushes a deep shade of red as he stares wide at our interlaced fingers. I extend my hand out to George.

“Alexandrea Hamilton,” I say. “John Laurens’s girlfriend. A pleasure to meet you.”

***

“So, you’re meaning to tell me…you’re going to be dating my son for two weeks?” George says skeptically as he narrows his eyes at Laurens with his hands resting underneath his chin.

We’re sitting at the dining room table now with dinner surrounding us. I sit next to Laurens, still in my dress, still in my female form. Laurens swallows at George’s intimidating stare and he glances at me really quickly before turning back to George. Laurens nods as he runs his hand through his honey blonde hair.

“Um…yes, sir, Mr. Washington, sir. I am,” Laurens says.

I knock my knee against his underneath the table in hopes it would help comfort him or ease his tension a little.

He glances at me and smiles warmly. I take a sip of my water from my glass and smile against the tip of the glass, arching both eyebrows skyward. Laurens turns back to George.

“But it’s only for two weeks, Dad,” I say. “Two weeks and that’s it.”

Laurens nods with agreement.

“But…why did you choose my son?” George says, his protectiveness getting the best of him.

“Dad…” I say in a chiding tone.

“Hush, Alexander,” George snaps. “The adults are talking.”

I scoff, setting the cup back down on the table and fold my arms over my chest, rolling my eyes.

“I’ll be eighteen in…” I mentally count on my fingers. It’s the beginning of October now so… “Three months!”

George ignores me and focuses his attention on poor Laurens.

“Why did you choose him, Mr. Laurens? Why not some other actual women?” George hisses.

Laurens flinches and ducks his chin down towards his chest, poking at his green beans with his fork.

“Dad, stop it!” I say. “You’re intimidating him!”

“Alex, it’s fine,” Laurens says, trying to calm me down with his hand on my arm.

“No, it’s not!” I hiss through gritted teeth, narrowing my eyes at George.

“Alexander,” George says, his voice stern and final. His face is serious. “Sit down, son.”

I lock my eyes with George’s stern, narrowed ones. I open my mouth to protest which made George arch an eyebrow, challenging me. When I can’t think of a reasonable argument, I clamp my mouth shut. I cross my arms over my chest, huffing out a breath, and flop myself down back in my seat. George sighs, annoyed, before turning his attention back to Laurens. But before George could ask Laurens anymore questions, I stand up from my chair abruptly, causing all three heads to turn to me.

“I want to do this, Dad!” I protest.

“Alex—” Laurens begins, resting his hand on my arm but George cuts him off.

“Alex, son, please—”

“Dad, I want to do this!” I say. “He didn’t force me or anything. I agreed to this plan by my own will!”

“Alexander!” George snaps, his tone deep and controlled, rumbling like thunder.

Silence.

I glare hard at George, growling behind my closed lips and occasionally flickering apologetic glances at Laurens who smiles a little, telling me it’s okay. I glance back at George, who raises his other eyebrow, challenging me. I huff out another breath and sit back down in my seat.

George closes his eyes for a moment, sighing long and slow through his nose and glances back at Laurens.

“Tell me, Mr. Laurens, why did you choose my son?”

Silence.

Laurens hesitates, glancing at me then back at George then back at me again. He locks his beautiful eyes with me again and smiles softly. I feel my freckled cheeks grow incredibly warm at his intense stare, my lips pursed together in a firm line and I swallow, bracing myself for his real answer, though I know what it is.

“Because…” Laurens closes his eyes, sucks in a huge breath before puffing it out and reopening those eyes that I’ve somehow managed to grow fond of over the past month. The corners of his lips turn upward. “Because I love him.”

Silence.

His blue eyes are still locked with my violet ones.

“I love him.”

Chapter Text

IT’S A LONG moment of complete silence until I’m able to find my voice again. I don’t know how to react. I mean, I knew what the answer would be. I knew it! But…I just… Laurens looks at me, a fond smile on his face and his blue eyes brim with unshed tears. His chin is wobbly and so is his smile. George leans back in his seat a little bit, letting us have some space. George sneaks a glance at Martha, who smiles wide, her eyes wide as well before glancing back at the two of us. Laurens scoots forward in his chair and stands up. I tilt my head up slightly, frowning with confusion. He extends his hand out for me which I gently take and helps me up to my feet swiftly yet slowly. He grips my hand in his tightly, looking down into my eyes while I look up into his.

“I love you, Alexander,” Laurens confesses, blinking his eyes rapidly. He grips my hand tighter in his. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Alexander Hamilton. That’s why I chose you.”

A pause.

“A-Alex…say something…” Laurens whispers, his blue eyes wide with fear.

I open my mouth to say something but then clamp it shut. Laurens clenches his jaw tighter and swallows. I yank my hand away from his. Angelica was right. Laurens stares at me, confused. He reaches for my hand again but I pull it closer to my body. I furrow my brows together, my lips twisting into a scowl. Laurens’s face pales. He inches closer but I involuntarily take a step back.

“You tricked me.” I say it with a hiss, like a snake, but hotly and sharp. Anger squeezing my chest.

This catches Laurens off-guard. He shakes his head.

“What?” he stutters.

“You lied to me…you…you…you…you were going to use me!”

“What?! No! No, I wasn’t—”

“Really?” I snap, putting my hands on my hips. “Really? You just confessed you were. You were going to trick me into being your fake girlfriend into actually dating me!”

“Alex—”

“No.”

Silence.

I spin around on around on my heel and jab my finger at his chest, causing Laurens to stumble back a little.

“We’re done.”

Laurens’s eyes widen and he fearfully shakes his head. “No…no, no, no. Alex, please, just…just hear me out and that would be enough!”

He clutches my wrist in his hands when he says the last part of his plead. I stop dead in my tracks, staring at the closed front door with my vision starting to fog up. I press my lips in a firm line, my chest squeezed tight, my throat burning, making it hard for me to breath. I feel as though someone just whacked my heart with a hammer and it’s now shattered into pieces and it’s falling into the pit of my stomach. He tricked me. I swallow thickly, blinking my eyes and slowly turning around to meet his gaze. He’s on his knees now, clutching at my wrist and a little bit of my dress that I still have on. Laurens looks up at me sharply, his blue eyes still brimming with unshed tears. I feel mine already escaping down my cheeks. I crouch down a little to Laurens’s level, cradling his cheek and stroking his smooth cheek with the pad of my thumb. I smile fondly, tilting my head to one shoulder. Laurens closes his eyes gently, leaning into my touch and calming down. My fond smile however, immediately turns into a tight scowl and growl behind my closed lips. I lean into his ear.

“I’m done protecting you.”

In my peripheral, I see Laurens’s eyes snap open with a confused look. I lower my hand from his cheek and stand up. He calls my name, begging me to stop, begging me to hear him out, but I ignore him. With tears rolling down my freckled cheeks, I storm out of the house, slamming the door shut.

***

I knock on Tilghman’s door. It took me roughly a half hour or so to reach his place. I stand back a little and sniff, waiting impatiently for the door to open. I sniff, wiping my tear-stained cheeks. I knew it. I knew he was going to do this. Angelica was right, she was right…!

The front door swings open and it isn’t Tilghman who answers the door, it’s Meade. Meade’s eyes widen and he grins stupidly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Wow…” Meade whistles, arching an eyebrow. “What’s someone like you doing out here all alone, Miss?”

I make a disgruntled noise and roll my eyes, wiping away my tears that just won’t stop coming!

“Kidder!” I say. “It’s me!”

Meade grin falters into a confused frown, his brows knit together with creases form on his forehead. He tilts his head to one shoulder, blinking his eyes over and over again. He opens his mouth and then clamps it shut and opens his mouth again.

“A-Alex?” he says.

“Yes! It’s me, Alex! Please, can I just come in!”

“O-Of course!” Meade stutters, shocked by my appearance and my unexpected visit.

He steps aside a little, letting the door swing open with him. I stumble on inside, a blubbering mess, trying to calm myself down, sniffling and telling Meade what happened at the same time while also trying not to choke on a sob. Meade frowns as he closes the door behind him and walks towards me. My breath hitches as I confess to Meade, telling him that Laurens loved me and that he tricked me, that he hurt me, that…he broke my heart. I thought I was helping him. I thought I was supporting him. I thought this was just for two weeks straight and then after that, nothing. After those two weeks, I thought it was over. But no. No. He used me. He was going to use me anyways into tricking him to actually dating him. And I—

“Alex,” Meade says sternly, narrowing his eyes as he grips my shoulders tightly to stop my pacing. “Calm down. Breathe. I can’t even understand half the words you’re saying right now.” A pause. “Ugh. You’re ruining your makeup.”

I giggle a little, which in turn, made Meade smile a little. I sniff, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. I look down at the back of my hand and notice a trail of black mascara stains my knuckles. I laugh a little and sniff again. Meade wraps his arm around me and guides me to the couch in his apartment. I sit down next to him, smoothing out the wrinkles of the dress before leaning back against the cushions. I sniff again, wiping another stray tear with the heel of my palm.

Meade hands me a tissue and I take it, dabbing the makeup around the corners of my eye carefully. Meade shushes me when I start to choke up again and rubs my shoulder up and down.

“You okay?” Meade asks quietly, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind my ear comfortingly.

I swallow thickly, letting out a shuttering breath, before nodding and turning to face him. “Yeah. Sorry you had to see me like this…I just…I just don’t know where to go…”

“Hey, hey,” Meade soothes. “Shh. It’s alright, Alex. Really.” He frowns. “Why are you dressed up like a girl?”

I huff out a breath, looking up at the ceiling. “John asked me to.”

“John?”

“Laurens.”

“Why’d he ask you—”

“He wanted me to be his fake girlfriend for two weeks,” I explain, glancing at Meade in my peripheral. My head remains facing up at the ceiling. Meade stares at me with a blank look, waiting for me to continue. I sigh through my nose. “He broke up with Manning and he learned that his father would be coming up here to Manhattan to visit him and he panicked I guess and asked me because I had a feminine-like body and that I would pay off looking like a woman—”

Meade scoffs with a laugh in between. “You’re sure right about that.”

I shoot him a look. Meade tosses both hands up in the air. “I’ll shut up now.”

“Anyways,” I continue. “Apparently, he tricked me.”

“Tricked you? Laurens? My Laurens tricked you?”

“That’s what I said,” I whistle with a nod.

“Why…why would he—”

“I don’t know,” I say, my violet, teary eyes flickering down towards my fingers in my lap. I chew on the bottom of my lip. “I don’t know why. But he tricked me. He was going to use me. He was going to use me into being his fake girlfriend and expected us to be officially together or something by the end of the two weeks. But he broke my heart. He hurt me…”

Meade narrows his eyes and grinds his jaw, clenching his fist on his lap. He shakes his head and sighs long and slow through his mouth. He turns back to me apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, Alex,” Meade whispers, wrapping his strong arms around my small frame. He pulls me closer to his chest, shushing me when I feel small tears trickling down my cheeks. I have to bite on my lip to keep myself from sobbing again. I rest my head on his chest, underneath his chin as I stare blankly at the TV across the room from us. Meade continues to rubs my arm up and down. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I…I don’t know why John would do something like this…to someone so trusting and kind as you…” Meade looks down at me apologetically and empathetically. I lift my head up slightly to meet his eyes and flash him a fond smile. “I’ve known John since freshman year. I know him like I know my own mind, in and out. I know he wouldn’t do something like this to someone. But…”

I raise an eyebrow, sitting up a little straighter, suddenly curious.

“But?” I prompt.

“But if you give him a chance, Alexander,” Meade says. “I know he wouldn’t hurt you. I know he wouldn’t do something like this to you. Or to anyone else for that matter. Yes, John can be reckless and stupid at times—though, mostly reckless—but he…he really is a sweet guy, Alexander. I bet you…Alexander…he was afraid.”

I frown. “Afraid?”

Meade nods. “Mhm.” A pause. “John’s always had a fear of rejection. Ever since he came out to his father, really. He just…he loves you, Alex.” Meade’s dark brown eyes flicker back up to mine and he smiles faintly with a short nod. “He really does, Alex. He loves you. He…Ever since he saw you, he…he just wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

I feel a warm blush creep over my cheeks. I bite my lip, though not from crying this time, but from smiling.

“Really?” I say sheepishly.

Meade nods. “Really. I was one of the first people he confessed his love for you, Alexander. He even written a letter!”

My heart skips a beat. A love letter?

Meade grunts as I slide off of him when he sits up on the couch. He reaches for a chest and unlocks it. I scoot closer to the end of the couch, suddenly curious, and watch Meade as he shuffles through the papers inside the chest. I tilt my head to one shoulder as Meade hands me a small envelope, closing the chest. A small grin appears on Meade’s face. “Here. Read it. It’s for you.”

I hesitantly snatch the letter from Meade’s hands and carefully tear the envelope open. I flip the lid of the envelope open and pull out the rough papers from inside the envelope and smooth it out. I narrow my eyes, squinting at the small words and mouthing the words as I read them to myself.

My dear Hamilton,

I know you’re never going to get this letter. I only met you not a day ago but yet there’s just…there’s something about you that I just have to get my words out. Since I can’t confess them to you in person, I will confess them here. Alexander, you are something extraordinary. You are…beautiful. Just beautiful. You’re singular, Alexander. You’re not like anyone else I have ever met before in my life. You’re sweet and kind and trusting. I feel safe around you. When I’m around you, Alexander, I feel this overwhelming since of happiness inside me that has never been there before. Your laugh, your smile, your voice and most of all your beautiful deep violet eyes. The freckles on your cheeks which reminds me of the constellations in the night sky, scattered loosely and everywhere. Your flaming auburn hair almost like a lion’s mane. Your determination and dedication to work ethic. Your strong use of the English language. Your intelligence, your bravery, your support that you give me. I have never met anyone like you, Alexander. My family calls me Jack but you…you Alexander are something more than family. You’re…different, special. There are just so many words I can use to describe you but there are none that will compare to how helpless I feel when I’m around you. I must confess, Alexander, I love you. I know I normally don’t believe in love at first sight but I can’t help but…think about you. Every day, I long for you. I know this sounds cheesy and all but it’s true. Adieu, my dear friend. You know the unalterable sentiments of your affectionate.

~Laurens

Silence.

For a moment that’s all there is. Is just…silence. I clutch the letter tightly in my trembly hands, my heart touched. Meade grins in my peripheral when he sees the corners of my lips turn upward. He raises an eyebrow when I fully turn to face him.

“Well?” he says.

“I need to see John. Now.”

***

Meade drops me off in the driveway back at my place. He parks the car and unlocks the car’s doors. He smiles at me and nods encouragingly. I return the small smile and climb on out of the car. I slam the passenger side door shut with my hip before jogging up the front porch steps. Thankfully, Laurens’s car is still here. I swing open the door and all heads turn towards me. The Sisters are in the living room, trying to comfort Laurens who has his head in his hands, mumbling about something incoherently, and so are my parents. George giving Laurens a stoned-face glare, his arms crossed over his chest and Martha is crouched down in front of Laurens, also trying to comfort him. I couldn’t help but beam radiantly.

“Jack.”

Laurens’s head snaps up at his nickname and he whips his head over his shoulder, his diamond blue eyes wide with still unshed tears in their tear ducts. I stand in front of the doorway, sheepishly. Laurens sniffs and smiles a little confusedly. He glances at the others before back at me and pushes himself up off the couch. He slowly inches his way towards me.

“Alex…” he says breathlessly. I feel my knees buckle. Laurens closes his eyes for a split second, shakes his head, then reopens them. “Alex. I’m so sorry. I never…I…I never intended to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Alex. I understand if you never want to be near me again and I—”

I press my lips to his, smiling into the kiss.

Laurens freezes, his arms hovering over me with surprise and I can feel his eyes widen. I laugh into our kiss and I can feel him grin against my lips, angling his head a little to fit his rough, pink lips perfectly on mine. I hum into the kiss, sliding my tongue around his, trying to fight for dominance. I loop my arms around his neck as he dips me a little, my hands clutching at my wrists so I won’t fall from beneath him. His strong arms around my waist, his nose touching the crook of my nose. We stay like that. The Sisters squeal, laughing and clapping their hands. Martha sniffs and wipes away a stray tear down her cheek while she clumsily fumbles for her phone to snap a couple of pictures of us two and George just stands there, his eyes narrowed at Laurens but a small grin appears on his face.

After a few more minutes, I pull back from his lips to catch some air. I look into his eyes, his beautiful diamond blue eyes and he smirks. He presses his forehead against mine, still in the little dip position, and nuzzles his nose against the tip of mine, humming with content. I let out a soft giggle and trace his jawline with the crook of my finger.

“Wow…” Laurens breathes, his eyes half-opened and dreamy. “That was…wow…”

“Incredible?” I suggest, arching an eyebrow, my voice in a hushed whisper.

He nods. “Incredible.” He laughs as he helps me stand up a bit straighter. “You know, Alexander, for someone who isn’t ready for dating, you are a pretty good kisser.”

I let out a laugh and whack the back of his head playfully and roll my eyes. “Oh, hush, you!”

Laurens stares down into me, he smiles a little, grabbing my hands in his. He leans down so our foreheads are touching together.

“Alex…” he whispers, his warm breath tickling my cheek.

“My dear Jack,” I whisper, opening my eyes again to meet his, stroking his cheekbone with my thumb.

“I’m so sorry, Alexander,” Laurens says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you. I…it wasn’t my intention. I’m so sorry I did this to you. I mean, you don’t deserve me, Alexander. What I did to you… It’s true. Look. My father is still coming up to Manhattan to visit me and he still expects me to be with Martha but…I understand if you want to quit.”

I shake my head, still beaming brightly. I’ve never felt this happy in my life.

“No,” I say. “I want to do this. I want to do this, Jack.” A pause. I look up and brush a loose strand of honey blonde hair out of his eyes and tuck it behind his ear absentmindedly. Laurens hums and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. “I forgive you.”

Laurens smiles wider. “Thank you.”

I nod. “Of course. I’m sorry I overreacted like that. I didn’t mean to run out on you like that. It’s just…it was too much for me to bare. I mean, I’m not…I’ve never been in a relationship before…let alone a fake one…so I don’t know what to expect. But…it was just…a lot to consume.” I frown a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Alex…” Laurens says. He lifts my chin up a little. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I totally understand.”

A pause.

“So…you’re still in this?” Laurens asks.

I nod.

I’m not throwing away my shot.

Chapter Text

HENRY LAURENS ARRIVES in New York on Friday, on the night of Laurens’s game. It’s been four days since the “incident” between Laurens and I and the misunderstanding. It’s been four days since Laurens had verbally confessed to me his love for me. It’s been four days since I’ve found out about his crush for me. It’s been four days since I kissed John Laurens. Now, three days later, Henry Laurens arrives.

I’m standing in the school’s lockers with Laurens, leaning against a locker with my arms over my chest as I watch Laurens switch out of his clothes into his football gear. He looks terrified, ghostly terrified. His face is pale, his bright blue eyes are wide with nervousness and he constantly chews on either his lip or his nails as his eyes skirt around the room, bracing himself for Henry Laurens’s appearance. Laurens had told me earlier that he was making an unexpected visit after the football game on his way home. Laurens plops himself on the wooden bench in the locker room, hunching over a little as he runs a hand through his honey blonde hair, puffing out a breath as his legs bounces up and down nervously and he clutches onto his metal helmet, hunched over slightly.

I flash him a small smile and sit down next to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulder comfortingly and rub his shoulder up and down comfortingly. He presses his lips together tightly, glancing around the room at the other boys changing into their jerseys and helmets. I tuck back a loose strand of blonde hair behind his ears.

“Shh, shh,” I whisper. “Relax, John.”

Laurens shakes his head, pressing his lips tight and he licks them. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t relax, Alexander! It’s…I can’t do this…”

“Yes, you can!” I encourage. Or, well, try to, anyways. I squeeze his shoulder as Laurens shakes his head again, licking his lips as he continues to glance around the room.

“I can’t! I can’t do this, Alexander! I…It’s my father!” Laurens gasps.

“Breathe, John,” I say in a scolding tone. “You’re starting to panic.”

Laurens runs his hand through his silky, golden blonde hair and puffs out another breath, his cheeks puffing out as he exhales hotly.

“He expects me to be with Martha and…and…you’re not Martha!” Laurens cries with desperation. He whips his head over his shoulder, locking blue eyes with violet eyes. “I…God, Alex! How…How am I supposed to tell my father that I broke up with the girl he wants me to marry! He’ll kill me!”

I close my eyes and sigh defeatedly out my mouth. There’s no use in comforting him anymore. I tried doing that but he just won’t listen. I lower my hand from his shoulder and interlace my fingers together, resting my forearms on my thighs and glance about the room.

“It’s just…” Laurens starts, trying to find the right words. “It’s just…he’s just…my Dad, you know? I…I don’t know. I just…I just really want him to like you, Alex. And I just…I really want to be with you…and I want him to accept me for who I am and to accept you.”

“Shh, I know,” I say, combing back a few strands of hair out of his beautiful eyes. “I’ll be fine. Okay?”

Laurens smiles fondly, whipping his head over his shoulder at me. But his small smile turns into a frown, a hesitant frown at that. He chews on the corner of his lip.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Alex?” Laurens asks hesitantly.

I roll my eyes, folding my thin arms over my chest. I huff out a breath. “For the last time, Jack, yes! I do! I want to do this!”

Laurens nods. “Okay. I just… I feel like I’m forcing you to do this or something…”

“You’re not,” I say. “I want to do this.” I inch closer so my lips are brushing against his, our noses nudging against each other. I look up into his eyes, lustfully, a devilish grin on my face as I tug at his jersey collar. “I want you, John Laurens.”

“And you shall have me, Alexander Hamilton.”

His breath tickles against my soft skin and it’s warm. He leans down, tilting his head a little and presses a soft, chaste kiss to my lips. A couple of the boys around us whistle and I let out a giggle against our connected lips. I feel Laurens grin as well as he kisses me harder, desperately, our tongues fighting for dominance as I snake my hands up into his blonde hair.

“Laurens!” says Alan Warren from behind us, clapping his hands to get Laurens’s attention. Laurens snaps his head up away from me, our noses still almost touching and he whips his head over his shoulder, shooting Warren a hard glare before sticking out his tongue at him teasingly. I have my hands flat on Laurens’s muscular chest as I giggle at the two boys being literal children.

“Quit making out with your boyfriend and let’s go! We got a game to win!” Warren snaps, jogging out towards the end of the dugout where’s there’s a faint light coming through. Faintly, I can hear people cheer and laugh from outside and coaches discusses playoffs or plans of attack, etcetera.

Laurens turns his head toward me and smiles softly, helping me stand up to my feet with my small hand in his larger one. I smooth out his jersey and rest my hands on his shoulders, looking up into those eyes.

“Win this game for me, okay?” I whisper against his lips.

Laurens beams and presses his lips against mine quickly before pulling away. He nods.

“I will.”

Laurens clutches onto my hands, bringing my hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the back of my hand gentlemanly. I smile fondly at him as he lets go of my hand and jogs with the rest of the team out the front.

“I’ve never seen Laurens this happy for the entire time I have known him,” says a voice from behind me.

I yelp with surprise and let out a chuckle when I turn around to find Nathan Hale standing before me with his arms crossed over his chest. He smirks as he approaches me so now we’re standing shoulder to shoulder. I look up at him as we exit the locker room and toward the bleachers outside where Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy sits, waiting for me. George is there too for some reason.

“Really?” I say curiously, arching an eyebrow as I glace up at Hale.

Hale nods. “Oh, yeah. Before you came, he was this moody, angsty, depressed teenager. But then he met you and well…his whole world just…shifted. You make him happy, Alex. I’ve never seen him smile that wide before.”

I smile a little, a warm blush creeping across my freckled cheeks and I let out a soft giggle. We make our way towards the bleachers. I climb up between the aisle at the fourth row where the Sisters sit. I mutter soft apologies as I squeeze past people’s knees to find an empty spot near the Sisters. I sit down next to Peggy, Eliza next to her and Angelica along with her boyfriend John Barker Church next to Eliza. Hale sits next to me and I spot George a couple of seats down, wanting to give me some space to be with my friends, which I appreciate gratefully.

I see Laurens on the bench with his other teammates on the bench on the field, putting on his helmet and making sure none of his blonde hair gets all caught up in between. I see his blue jersey and on the back the number 54 is in large, bold white numbers and on top of the numbers on his jersey, also in bold, white letters, reads: LAURENS.

“I don’t believe we’ve properly introduced ourselves,” says a thick British voice. I turn to see John Church extending his hand across the girls towards me, a small smile painting across his handsome face. “The name’s John Barker Church, Angelica’s boyfriend.”

I shake his hand firmly and sharp. One shake. I nod in greeting.

“Alexander Hamilton,” I say. I can’t stop smiling. “John Laurens’s…uh…friend. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Angelica’s told me much about you,” Baker says with a curious eyebrow raised.

I glance at Angelica, who blushes embarrassingly and hides her face behind Baker’s back away from my intense stare. I raise an eyebrow, folding my arms over my chest.

“Did she?” I say.

He nods. “That she did.”

“John,” Angelica hisses, shooting her boyfriend a glare.

I chuckle softly behind my closed lips, shaking my head fondly at the pair before turning my attention back at the field. Laurens hops up off the bench, followed by his teammates. He jogs towards the middle of the field. He glances at me over his shoulder and smiles wide, winking at me. I return the smile gladly and wink back at him. Laurens and his opposing team stands a few feet away from each other, the referee in between the two lines. The referee holds out a coin on his thumb. He flicks it and claps it flat on the back of his hand with his other hand on top. He lifts his hand and gestures to Laurens’s team. I’m assuming they get to go first. '

Laurens and his team jog back toward their bench, chatting with each other quietly. I watch Laurens by the bench standing next to Tilghman and in between a boy with a jersey that says: HARRISON. Laurens has his arms crossed over his chest and he nods occasionally with agreement. Laurens hops off the bench and follows the ret of his teammates onto the field. People around us start to whistle and whoop and holler and cheer, chanting their friend’s names as they march onto the field. I cup my hands around my mouth, a wide smile on my face.

“Woo! Jack! Go, Jack!” I cry out, waving my hand in a circle and lean back a little, laughing.

Laurens glances at me over his shoulder as he huddles into position. He smirks behind his helmet, those dazzling sky-blue eyes glinting against the evening sunlight and he winks at me before turning his attention to the opposing team.

“And…hike!” one player calls out gruffly.

The ball is spiked backwards to the player behind him. The player, whose name on the back of his jersey I can’t read quite well yet, clutches the ball and sprints across the field, yielding his arm backward behind him, his eyes searching the field for his former teammate.

“So, are you and Laurens…together?” a voice behind us asks.

I yelp with surprise and whip my head around my shoulder with wild, confused eyes. I frown when I see a teenage boy behind me with slick, raven black hair and flawless, smooth skin and dark brown eyes. A Jedi-type braid going behind his ear. He arches a rather bushy eyebrow at me and smirks, folding his arms over his chest and resting his arms on his knees, leaning toward me a little.

“Um…” I say, hesitantly.

“Oh, I should introduce myself,” he says with a strange smile as he extends his hand out toward me. In my peripheral, I see the Sisters glance at each other hesitantly before turning their attention back toward the new kid and I. Church glares at the boy while Hale stares at the kid before me, tilting his head to one shoulder while raising his eyebrow and folding his arms over his chest. He presses his lips together tightly. I stare at the kid before me, tilting my own head a little bit, waiting for him to say something. The boy grins. “John Andre. A pleasure to meet you, Alexander Hamilton.”

I feel my stomach twist at his cold tone. I shiver and it’s not from the warm, autumn breeze. I feel myself shrink involuntarily at his intense stare. It almost feels like he’s staring deep into my soul. I chew on the inside of my cheek. I swallow and shake his hand firmly, though I wince a little when his grip tightens around my hand.

“Nice to meet you as well,” I say, releasing my hand from his.

“So,” Andre says after a moment of silence, leaning against his thighs toward me a little. “I heard you’re new here.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” I say. “I’ve been here for a month now.”

“A month?” Andre says, arching his eyebrows with mock surprise. He grins. “Well. How’re you liking it here, Alexander?”

I shrug, wrapping my arms around me, thinking their Laurens’s instead of mine. I picture Laurens behind me, his ridiculously strong arms wrapped around my waist, my back pressed against his chest, glaring at Andre hard. Protecting me. I shudder at the thought with a small, fond smile. I glance back up at Andre, shooting him an unreadable look.

“It’s alright,” I say. “Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Andre nods. “Mhm.” He glances back at the field beyond my shoulder. He looks distant.

“So…you and John Laurens, huh?” Andre prompts.

I raise my eyebrow again. “What about us?”

“You two are together now?” Andre asks.

I nod, a small, sheepish smile on my face. “I think so.”

“Mhm. Right. Of course,” he says mopingly. He frowns, leaning back in his seat on the bleachers a little.

I glance at Hale who shrugs before turning my attention back to Andre.

“What is it?” I say.

Andre shrugs. “Oh, nothing. It’s ridiculous. I mean…mhm…well. If you really want to know, Hamilton, I um…the homecoming dance is coming up at the end of October. And well…I um…” He clears his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I um…I was wondering if uh…if you’d like to go…if you’d like to go with me. Though it seems like I’m already too late. You’re taken.”

I feel my freckled dotted cheeks flush, my violet eyes wide with surprise. I wasn’t expecting Andre to ask me out to a school dance. But he’s right. I grin at the thought. I’m already taken. I glance back at the field below us over my shoulder. I smile softly at my Laurens, who’s sitting on the bench with his other teammates, taking an unhealthy swing of his Gatorade and dabbing sweat off of his forehead with a towel, running a hand through his honey blonde hair. Laurens glances over his shoulder, looking into my eyes, and he smirks. He winks at me before turning his attention back to the field.

Sometimes I wonder how I found such a man.

***

I spot Laurens in the locker room after the game. His team won, by the way. I smile brightly with pursed lips and crossed arms over my chest as I enter the locker room. I see Laurens slipping off his jersey and tossing it into his duffle bag on the wooden bench. Hale follows close behind me. Laurens looks up after grabbing a fresh simple, plain white T-shirt out of his bag and grins idiotically as I slowly approach him.

“Hey,” Laurens whispers, snaking his arms around my waist.

“Hi…” I breathe, batting my eyes dreamily at him as I loop my arms around his neck, just underneath his loose, blonde ponytail. Laurens tilts his head a little, gazing at me lovingly. I smile for the thousandth time that day and press a quick kiss to his lips. I have to stand on my toes a little. “I’m so proud of you, Jack.”

He smiles a little, pressing another kiss to my own lips again. “Thank you. I told you I’d win.”

“For me.”

Laurens makes a “Hmm” noise as he nods, bumping his nose against mine. “For you.”

Laurens releases me a little so he can slip on his shirt over his bare torso. I can’t help but stare at those six pack abdominal muscles on his stomach. I frown a little when his shirt covers them up, well, I almost pout. Laurens chuckles at my childish expression and cheers me up instantly by sneaking in a surprise kiss to my lips. I make a grunt noise with surprise but melt into it anyways. My teeth grazes against his bottom lip as we pull apart. He smiles fondly and brushes back a few loose red curls away from my eyes and presses another kiss to my forehead. I rest my hands flat on his chest, my chin in between my hands as I tilt my head up to look up into those beautiful blue eyes of his. He smiles again, laughing through his nose as he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around my small frame, pulling me closer.

Laurens frowns, staring into my eyes. I also frown, pulling back a little with worry. I rest my hand underneath his jaw as his blue eyes flicker away from me over his shoulder. His brows knitted together, causing his forehead to have a crease in the middle and his eyes are narrowed with thought and a little bit of fear.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper softly. Other players around us laugh and chatter with their friends loudly or kissing their girlfriends.

Laurens swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he closes his eyes. He inhales sharply through his nose and breaths out slowly through his mouth and opens his eyes again. He licks his lips before glancing back down at me.

“My father…” he whispers.

I frown. “Your father?”

He swallows again, nodding. “Mhm.”

I frown deeper. “What about him?”

He sighs defeatedly and flops himself down on the bench. I find myself doing the same. Laurens takes one quick look at me sideways and sighs again, resting his forearms on his thighs as he leans forward, interlacing his fingers through mine and resting our interlaced fingers on his thigh.

“I just…” he swallows thickly again, blinking his eyes. “I just want…I don’t know. I’m…terrified, Alex. I mean…I really…I really…I really want him to accept you…to accept me…but…if he finds out I broke up with Martha…”

He trials off, his eyes looking almost vacant, distant. He looks anywhere but me.

“Jack—”

“We’re having dinner tonight at a French restaurant downtown. My siblings will be there too…”

“Oh.” A pause. “I see.”

Laurens hesitantly glances at me. “Are you sure you want—”

I shut him up with a kiss. “For the last time, Laurens. I do.”

He nods.

“Okay.”

I nod and squeeze our interlaced fingers. “We’ll get through this. We’ll get through this, Jack. Together.”

He grins slightly and nods again. “Together.”

“Just two weeks.”

“Just two weeks.”

A pause.

“Okay,” Laurens says with a short nod, pressing his lips together. “Okay.”

I smile fondly, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

WE ARRIVE AT the Le Coucou restaurant in midtown Manhattan. Laurens parks his car and clenches the steering wheel, staring intently at the restaurant in front of us, grinding his jaw and squaring his broad shoulders. Laurens presses his lips together tightly and swallows thickly, letting out a shaky breath. I rest my hand gently on his bicep, rubbing it up and down as comfortingly as I can.

“Okay…” Laurens whistles. “I can do this…”

I nod encouragingly, a warm smile painting across my face. “You can. I’ll be right there with you, John.”

Laurens lets out another shaky breath as he lowers his hands from the steering wheel. He swallows once more before glancing at me hesitantly over his shoulder but his hesitant and tense expression on his face softens into warmness. He smiles dreamily at me, tucking a loose auburn curl behind my ear and rests his hand on my freckled cheek, brushing my cheekbone with his thumb. I hum, closing my eyes with a content smile on my face as I lean into his palm.

“You look beautiful, Alex,” Laurens whispers.

I open my eyes and lock my violet ones with his. I grin, smoothing out his black tie.

“You look mighty handsome yourself, Laurens,” I say.

Laurens wears a simple navy-blue suit with a black tie along with dark navy-blue dress pants and black dress shoes. A gold watch on his wrist and his honey blonde hair in his usual, low loose ponytail on the back of his neck. I, however, am dressed as a woman as expected. I have my curly, auburn hair up in a low bun that Eliza had done. I wear slight makeup, nothing too fancy just simple foundation and concealer to hide the bags underneath my eyes and a dark green eyeshadow with black eyeliner and mascara of course and cheery red lipstick. My freckles are faint underneath the foundation on my skin, but still visible. I wear a dark green sleeved V-neck dress, the top half of the dress covered with sequins and the waist surrounded with a small, thin black belt and the rest is flowy and thin, shaping out my curvy hips perfectly.

Laurens smiles gently before leaning over and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to my lips before letting out another shaky breath. Laurens turns off the ignition and climbs on out the driver side door while I climb out the passenger side and slam the door with the side of my hip. Laurens stands on the sidewalk, holding out his arm. I link my arm through his and we enter the restaurant. Laurens opens the glass door to the restaurant and rests his hand on my lower back, guiding me inside. We reach the front.

“Bonsoir monsieur, madame,” says the waiter in front of us with a warm, welcoming smile on his face, nodding his head in greeting at Laurens and then at me. “Comment puis-je vous aider?”

“J’ai une table avec Monsieur Henry Laurens?” Laurens explains with both eyebrows arching upward. I whip my head over my shoulder, grinning. I didn’t know Laurens could speak French. “ll deverait deja etre la.”

“Ah, oui!” the waiter says with a wide smile, grabbing two menus for us. “Suis-moi.”

We follow the waiter down the aisle of tables. I grin devilishly up at Laurens, leaning in towards his ear and whisper, “I didn’t know you could speak French!”

Laurens grins cheekily. “Well. Now you do.”

“Jackie!” squeals a childish voice from the table in the back rear of the restaurant.

I look up to see a boy about thirteen-years-old with smooth dark brown hair and hazel-golden eyes rush towards his older brother. Laurens grins happily as he crouches down to embrace his little brother tightly. I stand aside a little to let the siblings have their moment, smiling fondly at them.

“Henri!” Laurens cries, clutching onto his brother tightly. “Look at you! All tall and grown up!”

“Jack! Stop it!”

Laurens chuckles, ruffling his little brother’s blonde hair teasingly. Henri grabs Laurens by the wrist and drags him towards their table. I follow nonetheless.

Laurens slides himself into the booth next to who I assume is his sister. She’s naturally thin with dark brown hair pulled into a bun and she wears a golden dress with simple makeup. Nothing too fancy. She embraces Laurens tightly. Laurens pats the open spot in the booth, smiling up at me. I hesitate, suddenly nervous on meeting Laurens’s family, but slide next to him nonetheless. Across from me sits a man who happens to be in his mid-forties with dark, beady brown eyes narrowing down at me. He scowls, his nose twisting up slightly as he stares me down, his brown eyes flickering up and down, his hands clutching at his menu. I swallow when I meet his stern gaze and duck my chin towards my chest, avoiding his intense stare. It feels like he’s staring into my soul. I shiver. Next to him, sits a boy about twelve with honey blonde hair like Laurens. He eyes me curiously, tilting his head to one shoulder and arching an eyebrow. I swallow, feeling a little self-conscious and insecure, I feel myself shrink against the booth, chewing on my lower lip. Laurens glances at me worriedly over his shoulder. He notices my discomfort and smiles reassuringly, knocking his knee against mine under the table. I grin back slightly and knock my knee against his.

Henri sits next to the blonde-haired boy and another girl who appears to be about eight or ten sits next to him. She also has Laurens’s honey blonde hair but pulled back into a low ponytail, letting a few bangs dangle in front of her ears. She also eyes me carefully. Curiously.

I swallow.

This is the Laurens family.

“John,” says the man in front of me, almost sternly, gruffly. He’s stoned-face too. I swallow again as I flip through the menu.

Laurens turns towards the man across from me as the waiter sets down everyone’s drinks in front of them. Laurens raises his eyebrow.

“Dad?” Laurens says levelly.

My eyes widen a little.

This man in front of me is Henry Laurens himself.

John Laurens’s father.

“Who’s this?” Mr. Laurens grunts, gesturing towards me with a napkin. “Where’s Manning?”

Laurens’s eyes widen wildly, his face paling. His breath hitches and he swallows thickly. I interlace my fingers through his underneath the table and squeezes it. In an instant, Laurens’s tense shoulders relax and he quickly flashes me a small, thankful smile before turning to his father. Laurens swallows, closing his eyes for a moment and then slowly reopening them. He licks his lips and looks up, locking his eyes with his father.

“Um…Dad?” Laurens begins. Mr. Laurens arches an eyebrow expectantly. Laurens swallows again. “This is…this is Alexandrea Hamilton. My um…my uh…”

“Your what?” Mr. Laurens hisses, his anger slowly rising. He still won’t take his eyes off of me, pinning me into the seat.

Laurens swallows and he grips my hand underneath the table tightly. I brush my thumb over the back of his hand comfortingly. Laurens sucks in a deep breath before slowly exhaling out his mouth.

“My girlfriend…”

Silence.

I smile widely at Laurens. That’s my Jack. He lifts our intertwined fingers from underneath the table and rests them on top of the table. Laurens glares at his father, narrowing his wide, blue eyes at his father, scowling, his jaw set. He squeezes my hand harder when I notice Mr. Laurens’s face twisting even further into a sickening scowl. Laurens’s siblings all duck their chins downward, bracing themselves.

“Girlfriend!” Mr. Laurens booms. He narrows his eyes darkly at my poor Jack, who shrinks instinctively against his seat. A few people around us stare at us curiously. I wince when Mr. Laurens slams his fist against the table, causing the silver wear to jingle. Laurens keeps his ground. “I gave you a girlfriend you ungrateful boy! You don’t need her!”

Mr. Laurens jabs his forefinger at me. I flinch and instinctively duck my head into Laurens’s shoulder.

“Dad—” Laurens tries, his voice pleading and his eyes are pleading as well. He tightens his grip on our intertwined hands on the table.

“No! You don’t…you don’t need this whore!” Mr. Laurens shouts venomously.

I squeeze my eyes tighter, pressing my lips tightly together and whimper into Laurens’s shoulder, remembering my childhood taunts, what people back home in Nevis used to call James and I.

“Dad—” Laurens snaps, with a fierce growl behind his clenched teeth. He tightens our hands tighter.

“No. You will marry Manning whether you like it or not, young man,” Mr. Laurens growls, clenching his fists tightly. “I am your father.”

“If you’re my father,” Laurens begins. I lift my head up slightly and rest my head on his shoulder, still keeping my eyes closed. I can feel Mr. Laurens’s hatred all the way over here. “You’d accept me for who I am, Henry. If you were truly my father…you’d let me love who I want to love. I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you. I’m done with this. I’m done with you. I don’t need you to control my every day life. I don’t need you to effing manipulate me, beat me senseless, throw me out on the streets when I was just barely a teenager, forced me to marry a girl I don’t love just because I’m different. Just because I don’t meet your expectations.”

A pause. I can’t stop smiling. That’s my boy.

Laurens leans against the edge of the table, his chest pressing against the edge. He scowls at Mr. Laurens.

“I don’t love Manning,” Laurens hisses through clenched teeth. He smiles lovingly as he flicks his gaze towards me. I return the smile and squeeze his hand. Laurens scowls when returns his gaze back to his father. “I never have. I never will. I love her. And if you can’t accept that…well…I’m sorry.”

Another pause.

“I’m done with this crap...I'm done with you.”

More silence.

Laurens looks smug as he leans back against his seat, his blue eyes wide with shock at what he had just said. His face pale. He looks as though a ton of bricks were just lifted off of his chest and he can finally breathe again. The girl on his left smiles wide and so do the rest of his siblings. Mr. Laurens growls.

“Then stay out of my house,” Mr. Laurens snaps coldly.

Laurens tosses both of his hands up. “Fine by me.”

Mr. Laurens stands up abruptly, nearly knocking the tray which has our dinner on, off the waiter’s arms. Mr. Laurens shoots me a hard glare, growling behind his teeth. I smirk and rest my head on Laurens’s shoulder, arching an eyebrow challengingly. I don’t say anything though. Mr. Laurens mumbles something incoherently, a curse or two here, before storming out of the restaurant. The bell chimes as the front door opens and the door flutters shut behind him.

For a moment there’s nothing but silence. Laurens stares at his father’s empty seat in front of me as the waiters set our food down in front of us. I rub my hand up and down against Laurens’s bicep comfortingly. Shock is written all over his face.

“Go, Jackie!” squeals the kids in front of us, pumping up their fists.

Laurens rests his hands against his temples, his mouth dropped, his eyes widen. The girl next to him squeal mixed with a choked laugh, her face covered with disbelief. She laughs at the same time I do and flings her arms around her brother’s neck. Laurens tugs at his blonde hair a little, still staring with a blank look at the empty seat in front of me.

“Oh my God…” Laurens gasps, his breath hitching in his throat. “Oh…my…God…”

“You did it!” gasps the girl next to him, who I assume is his sister: Martha. “You did it, John!”

“Oh…my…God…” Laurens breathes. “I did it…A-Alex…I did it…holy shit!”

Laurens drags his hand down his face, letting his skin drag along with it as his shocked lips shifts into a small, sly grin. He laughs shakily again, glancing down at me with wide eyes.

“You did it, Jack!” I whisper, cradling his sharp cheekbone against my palm. I nod my head with confirmation at his still shocked expression. “You did it! I’m so proud of you!”

“He…he’s gone…?” Laurens chokes, tears starting to brim at the corners of his eyes. His chin wobbles slight. “I…I did…”

“Oh, Jack,” I coo, stroking his cheekbone with my thumb. “Shh, shh. It’s okay! I’m so, so proud of you!”

“I love you so freaking much I could kiss you!” Laurens laughs.

“Then do it!” I encourage, my voice in a hushed whisper. “Kiss me, Jack.”

Laurens grins and cups both of my freckled cheeks in his hands and pulls me closer to him and he smashes his lips against mine. Behind Laurens’s shoulder, I see Martha smiling wide, her teeth flashing brightly. The kids, however, make a disgusted look on their faces playfully, their nose scrunching up and their lips twisting into a smirk as they stick out their tongue, looking away from us and shielding their eyes with their hands.

“Ew! Get a room!” the kids squeal.

Laurens pulls away first, resting his forehead against mine. Laurens brushes a lock of red hair behind my ear and smiles gently, looking deep into my violet eyes. I look up into his beautiful blue eyes which makes me feel like the sky’s the limit every time.

“You alright?” Laurens whispers, his nose nuzzling against mine. He quirks an eyebrow upward. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

I shake my head, smiling wide from ear to ear as my arms are draped loosely behind Laurens’s neck. His arms around my small waist. Our foreheads touching.

“No,” I whisper, brushing back a lock of honey blonde hair out his beautiful diamond blue eyes and behind his ear. My fingers trail along his jawline, towards his chin. “No. He didn’t. I’m fine, John. I’m so proud of you!”

“I should um…I should probably introduce you to my siblings,” Laurens says, pulling me up back into a sitting position.

“You think?” I say with a giggle and a teasing smirk on my face.

Laurens makes a “hmm” noise and surprises me with a quick kiss to my cheek. He turns to his siblings.

“Alex?” Laurens says. “These are my younger siblings.” He gestures to the girl on his left. “Martha, my sister.”

Martha nods her hello at me and I nod mine back. Laurens turns to the kids in front of me.

“These little rascals over here…” The kids giggle. I smile fondly at them. “Are my brothers and sisters. Henry Jr. or Henri.” The boy who’s sitting next to Mr. Laurens waves shyly. I wave back. “Mary or Polly for short.” The girl next to him waves too. I wave back.

I wave back, leaning forward slightly so I can get a better view of them all.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all!” I say.

“You too!” Polly exclaims with a beaming smile radiant as the sun.

“Guys?” Laurens says. “This…this…this is…” He pauses, frowning a bit at first and then smiles. “This is Alexander. Alexander Hamilton.”

“Alexander?” Martha pipes, her eyebrows raised and her eyes widen with shock. “I thought you said she was Alexandrea?”

Laurens shakes his head. “No. Alexander’s a he, actually, and his actual name is Alexander.”

“Alexandrea is my female name,” I say, munching on some shredded chicken.

“Your…your female name?” Martha asks, tilting her head to one shoulder.

“Mhm,” I say with a mouthful of chicken and a curt nod with my head.

“What—?” Martha blinks her eyes, flickering her head back and forth between Laurens and I.

“Alexander’s my fake girlfriend,” Laurens explains. Martha just stares at him with confusion. Laurens sighs. “I asked him to be my fake girlfriend when Henry arrived. I broke up with Manning because well, like I told Henry, I didn’t love her.” Laurens glances at me over his shoulder and then back at Martha. “I loved him. And Alex didn’t know I loved him. But he found out my…my sickening plan…”

I wince and so does Laurens. We both swallow, grimacing at the memory.

“Which was?” Martha prompts, quirking a curious eyebrow.

“Which was tricking him into dating me—”

“You what?!” Martha shrieks. I grimace. Her nose scrunches up as she whacks her older brother with her napkin. Laurens tries to dodge it by shielding his head with his arms. “What kind of—”

“I know, okay?! I was an idiot! I didn't know how to ask him out! And Alex was surely pissed about it! But we made up, we’re cool now, and well…here we are.”

“Wow,” Henri whistles.

“Yeah,” Laurens agrees.

“So, you’re Alexander?” Mary asks adorably.

I nod. “I am.”

“Not Alexandrea?” Mary says, tilting her head to one shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

I shake my head. “Nope. Just Alexander.”

“Just Alexander,” Mary repeats.

“But you all can call me Alex,” I say. Then, with a shrug, I add: “For short.”

“And…you love him?” Martha asks, breaking the sudden silence between us. She nods her head, gesturing at me. I feel my cheeks grow warm.

Laurens whips his head over his shoulder and grins stupidly. He laughs through his nose, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before turning back to Martha. He nods once.

“I do.”

Chapter Text

LAURENS DRIVES ME home later that night. He had one hand on the steering wheel while his other hand was intertwined with mine. I had called George to let him know I was on my home and that I’m perfectly fine. After a while of conversating with George, I hang up and tuck the phone back into the cupholder. I smile widely at Laurens’s intertwined hand, his thumb brushing the back of my knuckles. My small smile, however, fades a little into a frown as I stare up at Laurens’s eyes. His blue eyes sparkle against the moonlight shining above us. My frown shifts back into a small smile as I shift a little closer to him in my seat. Laurens glances t me over his shoulder and chuckles through his nose before turning his attention back to the road in front of him.

“Jack?” I whisper, staring blankly up at the skyscrapers, flashing their bright advertisements against the side of the steel buildings towering over us.

Laurens glances at me sideways. “Mhm?”

I chew my bottom lip, glancing back down at our hands. I squeeze his hand tightly. “What are we?”

Laurens frowns, quirking an eyebrow and shifting his body towards me when we reach a stoplight. He tilts his head a little.

“What do you mean, Alex?” Laurens asks.

“Us…?” I whisper. “What…what are we, John? We haven’t even begun the two-week journey and we’re already…well…” I gesture with my head towards our hands.

The light ahead of us turns green and Laurens gently presses the gas pedal, moving us forward. Laurens presses his lips together, his brows furrowing with thoughtfulness. But then his frown shifts into a small smile.

“Well,” Laurens says. “Whatever you want us to be, Alex.”

“What do you want us to be, Jack?” I ask, arching an eyebrow challengingly at him.

He laughs through his nose, shaking his head. “You’re never going to stop calling me Jack, are you?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Mhm,” Laurens hums. He strokes my knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “Well. I want us to be something more, Alexander.”

“More?”

He nods. “Yes. More.”

We sit in silence on our way home. After a few more minutes, we pull up to the apartment. Laurens parks his car and swallows as he shifts in his seat to face me. He smiles gently when I turn to look at him, returning the soft smile. Laurens brushes back a loose auburn lock behind my ear and cradles my jaw in his palm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Laurens whispers. “Yeah?”

I laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

He clenches my hand in his a little bit tighter. “Tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, Laurens releases my hand when I start to climb out of the car. I pause for a moment before shutting the door, my brows furrowed together with thought. “You uh…you want to come in?” I offer, shrugging a shoulder and nodding my head towards the front door with an eyebrow raised. Laurens eyes me suspiciously, a small smirk on his face, both eyebrows raised. He tilts his head.

“You want me to come in?” he repeats.

I nod.

He hesitates, checking the time on the radio before glancing back up at me. He frowns.

“Shouldn’t…aren’t Mr. and Mrs. Washington home by now?” Laurens asks.

I shrug. “So? If they are, they’re asleep anyways. And trust me when I say, my dear Jack, they’re heavy sleepers.”

It takes Laurens a moment to figure out what I’m suggesting but when it does eventually click, I let out a soft giggle as he turns off the ignition and swings the driver side door open. He jogs around the hood of the car and drags me up the front porch steps, underneath the light that’s showing above us. Laurens cups my face in his hands and leans down, angling his face and connects his lips to mine. I hiss into the kiss with surprise, my arms lifted up slightly but I relax and melt into it. Slowly wrapping my arms around his neck. After what feels like eternity, Laurens slowly pulls apart, our noses brushing against each other’s, both of us smiling like idiots, our foreheads touching.

“Alex…” He whispers against my cheek.

I sigh, closing my eyes gently as I melt into his touch, whispering against his lips, “Jack…”

I stand on my toes to reach his lips and presses a kiss to his lips firmly, lovingly. Laurens makes a startled, gruntled noise and I giggle within our kiss. Laurens fumbles backwards, trying to swing the front door open. He finds the doorknob and swings the door wide open, causing both of us to tumble in the house. The front door slams shut behind us but that doesn’t stop me from kissing Laurens. Laurens spins me around and pins me against the closed front door, kissing me as though his life depended on it. If this were a dream, I’d never want to wake.

Laurens pulls back for only a second, shrugging off the sleeve of the dress I still wear from dinner and I loosely pull my arm out of it, trying to do the same to him to his suit. After a few minutes, I pull back with a sharp thought in mind, a reminder that suddenly clicks. I gasp and put my hands flat against Laurens’s chest. We’re both panting, our chests close, our noses close, our lips parted, forehead together, eyes closed.

“What? What is it, Alex?” he asks, his voice husky, his breath warm against my skin.

I shake my head, looking up into his eyes. “Not here. There, upstairs, bedroom.”

I nod my head, gesturing my head towards the stairs behind us. Laurens glances over his bare shoulder and whips his head back over to me. He grins, suddenly sweeping me up off of me feet. I squeal with surprise, instinctively wrapping my thin arms around his neck while he has an arm behind my back and one underneath my legs. Laurens glances down at me, his eyes wide with adrenaline and love. He pecks another kiss to my lips before rushing up the stairs. I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle my uncontrollable giggles. But unfortunately, that doesn’t work.

Laurens kicks my bedroom door open and gently shuts it behind him with the side of his hip. I grimace when it bangs shut. I let out a laugh when he suddenly flops me down onto the bed, shrugging off his dress shirt and untying his tie quickly. I prop myself up on my elbows, watching Laurens lock my bedroom door. I arch an eyebrow and grin. Huh. Smart. Laurens whips his head back toward me and saunters towards me. I couldn’t help but giggle as he climbs over me. I comb back a few loose strands of blonde hair behind his ear and trail my fingers down his jaw. Laurens hums, closing his eyes for a moment as he leans against my palm before reopening his eyes and looking down at me. I trace the outline of his broad, muscular shoulders and his bare biceps which appear to be the size of a football itself. I trace the outline of his chest all the way to his flat abdomen. I was right. He does have a six-pack.

“You sure you want to do this, Alexander?” Laurens whispers into my ear.

I inhale sharply, my back arching a little against his voice. I nod once I settle back against the mountain of pillows, my arms still hanging loose against his neck. “I want you, Jack…”

He laughs quietly. “You’re never going to stop calling me that now, are you?”

I shake my head, fighting off giggles. “Nope. Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jackie, Jack, Jackie-Jack. Jack-Jack. Jackie. Jackie-Jack—”

I feel his lips against mine, which shuts me up immediately. I make a startled noise, tensing up all of a sudden, but soon relax into it. He pulls back after a few minutes and reopens his beautiful blue eyes. I stare into them. It feels like the sky’s the limit and I’m drowning in them…

“You’re beautiful, Alexander,” Laurens says, pressing his lips underneath my jaw.

I grip his shoulders, my breath hitching with surprise, tilting my head a little to give him room. His lips feels warm against my skin, soft and rough at the same time as they slide down my neck to my shoulder. I grimace a little but I slowly ease at his touch. Laurens looks back up at me, into my eyes, searching something. But when he can’t find it, he grins stupidly and kiss my jaw on the other side and does the same thing to my neck on the other side. Once he’s done, he looks back down at me. I rest my hand against his cheek, cradling it, smiling gently. Laurens returns the smile.

“Thank you, Jack,” I say with a giggle. “You’re mighty handsome yourself.”

A pause. My violet eyes flicker back up towards Laurens’s diamond blue ones.

“I’m so proud of you, John,” I whisper. He smiles.

“Well, I wouldn’t have done it without you, Alexander,” he confesses.

Before I could open my mouth to say something, Laurens dives down for another kiss to my lips. I make an “Hmph” noise with surprise but melt into again nonetheless. His lips trail down my neck to my collarbone then back up to my lips again. Laurens looks back up at me from my collarbone with hesitation in his eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Alexander?” Laurens asks.

I swallow, licking my lips. I hesitate, thinking about Lafayette, thinking about George and Martha, thinking about Eliza, about Angelica, about Peggy, about the people I love. But it’s my life. Not theirs. I want do this. I can. And I will.

I look back up at Laurens and nod once. Sharp.

“Yes,” I whisper, though it sounds more like a moan. “Yes, yes! Yes, Jack! I want you! I want to do this!”

Laurens grins, leaning in closer, his nose nuzzling against mine and against my cheek. “Then you shall have me. All of me.”

He dives in for another kiss and I swear to God, I’ve never felt so helpless.

***

After an hour of our…er…"intimate" session…Laurens flops down on the bed next to me, puffing out a breath, his forehead glistening with sweat, his blonde hair damp, his pale face red, his lips red-stained from the multiple kisses I have given him. The blanket drapes over Laurens’s lower-half but his upper half remains shirtless and bare. Exposed. His honey blonde hair falls loosely around him as he runs a hand through his tangled hair. He glances at me and grins stupidly.

“Wow,” Laurens breathes. “Wow.”

I press my lips into a thin smile and nod with agreement, my dark red hair fallen from its bun and cascading around me, framing out my features in my face. My face is also red, red as my hair, my forehead damp and I pant breathlessly on the pillow next to him. The blanket draped down towards my lap. I scoot closer to him, resting my head on his bare chest as he lifts an arm and wrap it around me, rubbing my shoulder up and down with his hand, squeezing it and pulling me closer to him so my head is just underneath his chin. Laurens glances down at me with a dreamy look on his adorable face. He smiles, actually smiling, ear to ear. He brushes back my loose red curls behind my ear. I couldn’t help but smile wide too, looking up at him.

“You alright?” Laurens asks breathlessly, arching an eyebrow. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” I shake my head. “You didn’t, John.”

“Well,” Laurens says, still rubbing my shoulder up and down as if that will keep me warm. “What did you think, Alex?”

“I think…” I gasp. “I think that was incredible, John.”

Laurens chuckles, laughing through his nose as he leans down and presses another kiss to my lips. He pulls back and rests his cheek on top of my head, staring out the window above my desk in my room.

“You know, Alex, now that I’ve come to think about it, I’ve never been in your room before,” he says as he scans my bedroom.

I suddenly begin to feel insecure as I feel myself shrink against him. I press my lips together.

“You like it?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

He grins when his blue eyes land on mine. “It’s adorable. You have a lot of green, though.”

“Well, green’s my favorite color,” I say with a shrug. “What’s yours?”

“Mine what?” he asks, stroking a few auburn bangs out of my eyes.

“Your favorite color?”

He pauses, frowning with thoughtfulness for a moment, his lips pressed together and then he smiles once more.

“Your eyes,” he says simply.

I frown, tilting my head a little. “What?”

“That’s my favorite color. The color of your eyes: violet.”

I splutter out a laugh, whacking his arm playfully. “You old sap!”

“What? It’s true!” he protests.

I chuckle, shaking my head side to side as I roll my eyes, snuggling up closer to him.

“So,” Laurens asks after a moment of silence between us. I look up at him, curiously. “What are we?”

“What do you want us to be, John?”

“Well,” Laurens says. “Like I said, Alexander. I want us to be something more.”

“You want us to be something more?”

He nods. “Mhm.”

I swallow, licking my lips as I lock my eyes on his own lips before my eyes flicker back up to meet his.

I smile, pecking his lips softly yet quickly at the same time.

“Yes.”

He frowns, confused. “Yes?”

I nod. “Yes.”

A pause.

“I will not only be your fake girlfriend,” I say with a wide smile upon my face. “But…I’ll also be your boyfriend.”

He grins, laughing, running his hand through his honey blonde hair. “You’re serious?”

I nod. “Yes. You said you wanted us to be something more…” I start to trace small circles on Laurens’s chest with my finger lazily, my head still on his shoulder underneath his chin. “And…we are…”

Laurens suddenly smashes his lips against mine, startling me and pulls apart, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Are you sure, Alex?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes.”

He kisses me again, letting his lips linger for a long moment before slowly parting, our foreheads touching.

Laurens rolls back onto his side and turns off the lamp. He glances at me, a warm smile painted across his face.

“Good night, Laurens,” I whisper.

“Night, Hamilton.

Chapter Text

I BLINK MY eyes open, squinting at the brightness shining through the window above my desk. I frown, confused for a moment and groan, tilting my head left and right, resting a hand on my temple in hopes it would help this headache I feel coming on. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.

I shift a little in my bed, cracking on eye open while keeping the other closed. I prop myself up on the bed with my elbow dipping into the mattress. I frown, furrowing my brows together with confusion written all over my face. My lips are pressed together as I scan the bedroom, wincing at the stiffness in my neck and in my upper back. I hear soft snores coming from next to me. I whip my head over my left and grin slightly, laughing quietly while shaking my head at the same time.

John Laurens curls up beside me, his blue eyes closed, his legs stretched out, one on the bed while the other dangles off the edge of it. The blankets draped over his back up to his neck. He has one arm underneath his rosy cheek while the other also dangles off the edge of the bed. He snores quietly, softly. His honey blonde hair flowing all around him, long and silky, glistening against the sunlight. His lips are parted slightly. I tilt my head, smiling softly as I watch him sleep next to me. He looks so relaxed, so peaceful. I brush back a few loose strands of blonde hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear, causing him to stir a little but he soon falls back into his peaceful slumber. ‘ My small smile shifts into a frown as I shift into a straighter upright position on the bed against the pillows behind me. I draw my knees up to my chest, glancing at the time on the digital clock on my nightstand. The glowing red numbers reads: 6:45 AM. It’s still early outside, still quiet. The sun hasn’t exactly come up yet, not fully anyways. The dark sky turns into a dark blue now. Birds flying across the sky, above the skyscrapers. Cars zoom down the interstates, a few pedestrians chatter quietly below us. I glance back at Laurens, my small smile returning. I’m his boyfriend now.

I let out a giggle.

I’m his boyfriend.

John Laurens is my boyfriend.

I’m his boyfriend.

“Morning,” Laurens husky voice says, filling the quietness in the room.

He grunts as he sits himself up next to me, wrapping a strong, muscular arm around my small, narrow shoulders, pulling me close to his side. I rest my head on his shoulder, tracing small circles on his shoulder this time instead of his chest. Laurens smiles and presses a kiss to my forehead, causing me to smile as well.

“Morning,” I say quietly, still staring at his bare, muscular shoulder.

He frowns, raking his fingers through my auburn curls. “You alright, Alex?”

I frown, pausing for a second, before looking back up at Laurens. “How…how am I going to explain this to George and Martha?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

I sit up a bit straighter, still leaning against him though. “I mean…they don’t know you’re here. How…how am I supposed to explain your presence when we head downstairs for breakfast?”

“Um…you can say something like I needed tutoring last night and we got lost track of time and I ended up staying the night or we had a huge project due at the end of the week and we tried to cram everything in so we wouldn’t have to worry about it later and we lost track of time and well, I ended up staying over and you didn’t want me to sleep on the couch and you insisted on me sleeping with you and well—”

He pauses when he realizes I’m just staring at him, my hands rested on top of each other on his shoulder, my chin on top of my hands as I watch his lips move, watch him speak. His voice brings comfort to me, making me feel safe and calm and loved. I smile up at him, my lips pressed together. Laurens tilts his head, arching an eyebrow.

“What?” Laurens says, breaking the silence.

I laugh through my nose. “Keep talking. I love hearing your voice.”

Laurens laughs through his nose, leaning forward to peck a few kisses to my lips. Sighing lightly, Laurens slowly pulls away from and sits up, smoothing out his disheveled blonde hair and glances at me over his shoulder.

“We should get going,” Laurens says, pecking another quick kiss to my lips. “We have school.”

Laurens starts to swing his legs around the edge of his bed, the white blanket falling down from his chest to his lap, revealing his muscular back before me. I can see his muscles in his shoulder blades flexing as he stretches his arms overhead, craning his neck side to side until he hears a satisfying pop, rolling the shoulders up and down, releasing the stiffness. I pout, my bottom lip puckering and before he could step foot onto the floor, I fling my arms around his waist.

“No!” I whine, pressing my freckled cheek against his back. “Don’t you dare leave this bed!”

Laurens laughs. “Alexander, we have school!”

“Forget school!” I protest. “Schools are for losers!”

“Alex—” Laurens says with a chuckle as he tries to pry my arms off of him.

“No!”

Laurens rolls his eyes, a small smirk on his face. “Alexander—”

“I said no, John! Stay!”

“Alex—”

I humph, letting him go as I flop back down on the bed, stretching my whole body before him. I grin evilly, wiggling one finger as a gesture for him to come here. I arch an eyebrow.

“Stay~” I say in a teasing voice.

Laurens hesitates and then grins, crawling back onto the bed and back on top of me. I let out a giggle as he presses my shoulders into the pillows, bending down so he can connect his lips to mine. He locks his eyes with mine.

“Hey…” he whispers, stroking my freckled cheek.

“Hey…” I whisper back, wrapping my arms around his neck tightly.

He smiles and leans down, pressing his lips against mine again, shoving me up a little against the pillows behind me yet pressing me down against them softly, crawling on top of me. I let out a giggle through our kiss, my hands on his shoulders now. I can feel Laurens grinning against our connected lips as he presses his slightly harder than before. I make a gruntled noise, totally not expecting it, as I fight for dominance. Laurens wins, obviously.

I hear a soft knock on my locked bedroom door, causing Laurens to spring away from me, his eyes wide and face pale as he whips his head over his shoulder to glance at the door. His blue eyes flicker to me while his profile remains straight. I shrug as his eyes shift over toward the door.

“Alexander?” George’s voice says behind the closed door as he knocks. “You awake?”

I curse silently behind clenched teeth and practically shove Laurens off the bed. He collapses onto the floor with a loud thud. I toss him his dress pants and his other formal attire and smooth out the bedsheets and my pillows as I hiss at Laurens for him to hide in my closet.

“Why do you have so much green?!” Laurens whisper-shouts as he flings my closet door open.

I wave my hand at him as if I were flicking a fly off my shoulder and shoot him a hard glare. “Shut up! Just go!”

“Alexander?” George says.

I sit up a bit straighter against my pillows, smoothing out the tangled dark red hair as best I can and pull up the bedsheets up towards my bare chest, wrapping my arms around them. I clear my throat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Come in!” I say.

George tries to open my bedroom door, the knob jingling but it doesn’t twist. I curse silently to myself, quickly flipping the bedsheets off of me and swinging my legs around the edge of the bed. I rush towards my bedroom door, quickly unlock it, before flopping back down onto my bed and into the position I was before.

“Alexander?” George says as he pokes his head through the cracked doorframe. “Why was your door locked?”

“Um…” I struggle for a moment, trying to find the right words. I swallow. “Uh…I didn’t want to be disturbed…when…working on my novel last night…”

“I thought you were out with Mr. Laurens?” George says, arching an eyebrow as he fully steps into view, his arms crossed over his chest and he closes the door behind him. “Having dinner with his family while pretending to be his…his…fake girlfriend?”

I grimace. “Dad, don’t…”

“Why are you shirtless?” George snaps suddenly. “You always sleep with pajamas on…”

I swallow, shifting uncomfortably in my spot. George sits himself down on the edge of the bed.

“Um…well…it was um…it was hot…last night…” I whisper.

George folds his arms over his chest, giving me a knowing look and arching an eyebrow, tilting his head to one shoulder. “Are you lying to me?”

I glance at him in my peripheral, my head remaining straight. I press my lips firmly together, swallowing the nervousness down my throat. I fidget with the sheets draped over my lap, fidgeting with my fingers. I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out the right words. My eyes flicker over to the closet, where Laurens is hiding then quickly back to George.

“Um…”

“Alexander,” George says, a hand on my shoulder. I try not to grimace. I swallow. “You’re not in trouble, son. I just want to know.”

I squeeze my eyes, my chest squeezing. I swallow and inhale sharply through my nose. I can’t take this anymore. I’m sorry, John…

“John, come out,” I say, eyes still closed tightly, George’s hand still on my shoulder.

I can’t bare to meet George’s eyes. He frowns in my peripheral, his brows furrowing together with confusion.

“John…?” George murmurs.

I swallow again. “John, come out.”

I open my eyes to find the doorknob of my closet jingling as Laurens slowly opens the door. George turns to the closet door opening, frowning deeper and I feel myself grow tense when Laurens’s head pokes through the closet door, his hand on the knob, only his chest-up shows.

“Mr. Laurens…” George says tersely, his voice cold. I shiver, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself as if that will keep me warm.

Laurens locks his eyes with George’s and schools his terrified features, setting his jaw and coming to attention as if George were his commander in the military. His body unusually straight and tense, his hands at his sides, his blue eyes locking with George’s, his jaw set, his shoulders squared.

Laurens swallows and nods once, sharply. “Good morning, sir.”

George tilts his head again. “Mr. Laurens…why were you in my son’s closet? Let alone in my son’s room?”

“Um…Mr. Washington, sir, with all due respect, um…I um…Alexander needed help with his uh…history project when I dropped him off last night and um…uh…we worked on that project and I um…I lost track of time and it was already past midnight when I realized I should be heading home and uh…Alexander insisted on me staying the night. He told me he didn’t want me driving out in the middle of the night and asked if I could stay the night until morning and um…well…here we are!” Laurens explains, scratching the back of his neck while rocking on his heels.

George narrows his eyes at Laurens, pinning him to the spot. George sets his jaw, glancing at me and then back at Laurens.

“You had sex with him, didn’t you?” George snaps suddenly.

I whip my head over my shoulder, eyes wide and my heart pounding in my chest. Laurens’s face pales, his eyes widening and his body stiff.

“What?!” I gasp, appalled. “Dad—”

“Alexander. Quiet.”

I clamp my half-opened mouth shut, humph and crossing my arms over my chest. I glance over my shoulder, away from George and Laurens. George sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning his attention back to my boyfriend. I let out a quiet giggle at the thought. My boyfriend…

“Tell me, Mr. Laurens,” George says, his anger rising slowly. “Why are you shirtless? Why are you even in this house when you should be at your own? Why are you in my son’s closet? Why were in my son’s bedroom?! Why do I see dark spots on my son’s neck?! Again!”

My eyes widen and my breathing hitches in my throat. I glance down at my shoulder and sure enough there are hickeys on my shoulder and on the side of my neck. I curse under my breath and clamp a hand over them.

Laurens closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling slowly through his nose and then slowly exhales out his mouth. He reopens his eyes.

“If you want the honest truth, sir,” Laurens begins, his eyes on me. I shake my head, my lips pressed firm together, my violet eyes wide and pleading him not to tell. If he tells George, I’m dead. If he tells George, Laurens is also dead. Laurens gives me an apologetic look before turning his attention back to George. He swallows. “If you want the honest truth sir…I…I did.”

“Did what?”

“I…I had sex with your son.”

It’s silent in the room now. I hold my breath, bracing myself. Laurens remains still, frozen as a statue. George, however, looks like he’s a volcano about to explode. He presses his lips together, clenches his fists, narrows his stormy gray-blue eyes at Laurens, his jaw set and his cheeks puffing out as he tries to control his temper. I grimace when George stands up from the edge of my bed and stalks towards Laurens who involuntarily shrinks at George’s presence. He swallows, not meeting George’s eyes.

“You what…?”

Laurens sighs. “I…I had sex…with your son, sir.” A pause. “It was consented…I made sure to ask if he was alright with it…” Laurens ducks his head, his blue eyes flickering toward me. I give him a small, reassuring smile. He returns the smile before his eyes flickers back toward the ground. He swallows thickly again. “My apologies…sir…”

“Out,” George hisses through clenched teeth.

My eyes widen and so does Laurens. He snaps his head up towards George, confused.

“What?!” Laurens and I both gasp.

“Out!” George growls. “Go home, Mr. Laurens, and get yourself ready for school with appropriate attire!”

Laurens sighs defeatedly, hanging his head down. “Yes, sir.” He glances at me and smiles softly, mouthing, “I’m sorry,” and then, “I love you.”

My heart swells. He loves me! He loves me!

Laurens quickly slips on his dress shirt and gathers up his suit and tie from last night and drapes it over his arms. He glances over his shoulder, locking eyes with mine and giving me a small smile before swinging my bedroom door open. Before Laurens could step foot into the hallway, I flip the bedsheets off of me and rush towards him, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him back.

“No!” I wail.

“Alex…” Laurens whispers—no, not Laurens—John. John whispers.

“Son—” George sighs.

“No!” I gasp, linking my arm through John’s and standing next to him. I square my shoulders and incline my head a little to meet George’s and narrow my eyes at him. I intertwine my fingers with John’s, squeezing his hand. John smiles a little. “No. If John goes…then so do I.”

George doesn’t say anything.

“I love him, Dad,” I say. “I love him. I love John. It’s true. We did have sex last night and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dad. But…I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I don’t need you or Gil or Mom to look after me like I’m a lost puppy anymore. I’m going to fall in love eventually, Dad. Whether you like it or not.” I glance at John over my shoulder, smiling at him softly. “And I already have.”

John looks down at me lovingly, smiling softly. I return the smile before turning back to George.

“I’ve never been this happy in my entire life, Dad,” I continue. “John makes me happy. And I love him. He loves me. I’m sorry if I disappointed you, but you have to let me go eventually. I’m not going to stay a kid forever, Dad.” A pause. “Please…I know you’re not a big fan of John but please…just…give him a chance, Dad…” After a few minutes, I add in the feeblest voice I could muster, “Please…?”

George hesitates, his eyes flickering between John and I. I swallow thickly, bracing myself. John grips my hand tightly in mine, brushing his thumb over my knuckles as an attempt to calm me down. I smile gratefully up at him before turning back to George.

George sighs, running a hand through his auburn hair.

“Alright,” he says. "Alright fine."

He stands up suddenly, his hands on his hips as he takes one good look at us. John swallows nervously, staring down at the space between his feet. I stand straight, locking eyes with George's and squaring my shoulders, setting my jaw and narrowing my eyes with determination, intertwining my fingers with John's at my side. John brushes his thumb against my knuckles as he squeezes my hand. Georges wallows and nods at us.

"Just this once. But if he screws up—" He jabs a finger at poor John, then looks back at me. "If he hurts you in anyway, Alexander, then so help me."

John swallows, grimacing. I press my lips together in a firm line and swallow thickly. I nod with understanding but I don't say anything. George glances at John and smiles softly. He steps closer to my terrified boyfriend and rests a hand on John's shoulder. This catches us both with surprise. I whip my head over towards George, narrowing my eyes with confusion while John's head snaps up, blinking his eyes and a frown appears on his face, his brows knitted together with confusion as well. But George still smiles

"You take care of my boy," George whispers sternly yet calmly, the smile still on his face. "You hear me?"

John swallows and nods sharply once. "Yes, sir. You have my word, Mr. Washington, sir."

George nods once and turns to leave my bedroom. He opens the door and whips his head over his shoulder for a quick second.

"Oh," he says with an eyebrow raised. "And be sure to keep it safe."

He winks at us before finally exiting the room. It takes me a moment to understand what he meant, but when I do, my freckled cheeks grow warm and my violet eyes widen as I grow incredibly stiff. I clench my fists at my sides, my lips pressed together in a straight line tightly. John just laughs at my disbelief expression on my face, shaking his head and patting my shoulder. John walks around me and steps in front of me in front of the closed bedroom door. I look up, tilting my head back a little to meet his beautiful pure blue eyes. I smile lovingly up at him. I loop my arms around his neck, pressing my chest against his as I rest my chin on his chest, batting my eyelashes as he grips my hips with his hands. I brush back a few loose strands of honey blonde hair away from those beautiful eyes and behind his ear absentmindedly. John leans down and bumps his nose against mine and laughs quietly. I giggle, my lips turning into a small smile as I close my eyes, nudging the tip of my nose against his.

"Not even two weeks into our fake relationship journey and we already made out," John laughs, nuzzling his nose against my cheek before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. My teeth grazes against his bottom lip before I pull away to look up at him. I cup his jaw underneath my hand, stroking his sharp cheekbone slowly. He leans into my touch and hums.

"Well, it's not my fault you're just incredibly hot," I whisper. He laughs, opening his eyes and rolling them with a teasing grin on his face. His eyes look down at mine. "And…I was right."

"About what, Alexander?" John asks.

"You do have a six pack," I say with a chuckle.

John laughs softly and nods with agreement. "That I do."

"That was my first thought when I first met you a couple months ago," I say. "I thought when I first saw you at my locker, I thought: 'I bet you he has a six pack underneath that turtleneck' and my hypothesis was correct."

John chuckles, shaking his head left to right before surprising me with a kiss to my lips. John pulls away from my hold and goes to gather his clothes from last night, folding them over his arm before returning to face me in front of my door again. He leans down once more and presses another kiss to my lips, brushing back some red hair out of my eyes and behind my ear.

"I should go," John says finally. "We have school today, Alex."

"Okay," I sigh defeatedly with a pout to my lips.

"Don't worry," John says. "I'll see you at school, yeah?"

I nod. "Yeah. See you at school, Jack."

He smiles again before sneaking in a kiss before slowly opening the door my bedroom door and steps out. Before he steps out of my room, I stop him with my arm reaching out.

"Hey," I say.

Laurens stops and glances over his shoulder with a curious eyebrow and a smirk on his face. "Hey."

"See you later, alligator?"

"After a while." He winks. "Crocodile."

Laurens steps out of my bedroom and closes the door gently behind him.

I let out a dreamy sigh with a beaming smile on my face. I clutch my hands against my chest as if I'm holding my textbooks and spin around my room, my heart fluttering in my chest and my stomach churning with excitement and happiness. I let out a squeal and flop down onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm so helpless!"

Chapter Text

I HAVEN’T STOPPED smiling since this morning after John left the house. I smiled unusually wide at breakfast, which concerned Martha since I’m not usually a smiley-type person. I smiled in the car ride with George on the way to school, which earned me a roll of his eyes and a small grin on his face as he shook his head, sighing through his nose. I smiled when I greeted the Sisters at the school’s entranceway, beaming brightly and laughing which also felt unusual to me. I smiled in the hallways towards my locker, clumsily bumping into other students on the way. I’m practically bouncing on my heels now, swinging my locker door open to pull out my English class supplies. I keep glancing over my shoulders, left to right as I try to find John in the halls, trying to find a familiar six-foot four blonde male.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” says a voice behind my locker door.

I yelp with surprise, nearly dropping my math textbook onto my feet but luckily, I caught it in my arms just in time. I whip my head over my shoulder to find Eliza, Angelica, and Peggy standing before me. Eliza smiles shyly, clutching her notebooks and textbooks close to her chest, her lips pressed together in a firm line. She wears a simple sky-blue dress with black leggings underneath and black heeled boots so the boots almost camouflage with her leggings. She has a purse slung over her torso, her purse just on her hip. Her hear done up in a high bun, letting a few curled bangs dangle in front of her ears. She wears minimum makeup and a few pieces of jewelry such as pearled earrings and a silver necklace around her neck, her bookbag on her back. Angelica arches an eyebrow while sipping on her Starbucks coffee, wearing a darker shade of pink leather jacket and a white shirt underneath with blue denim ripped jeans and white tennis shoes. Nothing too fancy. Peggy wears a long-sleeved yellow turtleneck and blue jeans with brown boots, her bookbag on her back as well. She has her arms crossed over her chest, both eyebrows raised and a teasing smirk on her face.

I let out a sigh of relief and continue stuffing my locker with unnecessary supplies.

“Can you guys stop sneaking up on me like that?!” I hiss as I pull out a history notebook and stuffing it in my locker.

“Sorry,” Peggy snorts, tossing both her hands up in front of her before folding her arms again over her chest. She frowns, eyeing me worriedly, tilting her head to one shoulder. “No, seriously, Alex. Are you feeling alright?” She arches an eyebrow. “You’re acting weird.”

“What?” I splutter, trying not to giggle. I can’t stop smiling. “Me? Acting weird? I’m not acting weird! You’re acting weird!”

I feel my cheeks grow warm, thinking about John: his beautiful blue eyes, his cheeky smile, his voice, his lips on mine…

“Alex,” Angelica says after taking another sip of her coffee, a knowing smirk on her face. “Come on. We can tell something happened.”

I bite the bottom of my lip, eyeing them as I struggle to find the right words to say.

“Um…” I gulp, scratching the back of my neck, rocking on my heels.

“How was dinner last night with John?” Eliza says, arching an eyebrow.

My eyes shift from Angelica to Eliza, who smiles softly. She knows what happened with John and I after dinner last night. I let out a dreamy sigh, pressing my back against the locker, clutching my books to my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut, letting out an “Ooh” sound as I slide down the locker. I press my knees up to my chest, my face in my hands.

“I’m so helpless!” I gasp, lifting my head from my hands and pressing it against my locker.

“You had sex with John, didn’t you?” Peggy prompts, her arms still over her chest, a smirk on her face, an eyebrow raised.

My face pales, violet eyes widening. I whip my head over my shoulder, glancing up at her and shooting her a hard look. My face grows incredibly warm and I don’t think it’s from the heat.

“W-W-What?!” I shriek, eyes wide. “Peggy!”

“What?” Peggy shrugs. “It’s pretty obvious!”

Eliza’s dark brown eyes widen with shock, her jaw slacking a little. My heart clenches. I suddenly feel a little guilty. I press my lips together in a straight line, ducking my chin towards my chest.

“You what?!” Eliza gasps.

“Eliza—” I say but she cuts me off in an instant.

“You had sex with him last night?!” Eliza hisses. “Are you kidding me, Alex! You’re seventeen! He’s…he’s eighteen!”

“It was consented!” I protest.

“At least it was,” Angelica murmurs.

“I don’t care if it was!” Eliza snaps. “You weren’t supposed to have freaking sex with him! You were just supposed to be his fake girlfriend and that’s it!”

“So? It’s my life, Eliza! I can make my own decisions!” I argue, jabbing my own finger towards myself, narrowing my eyes at her.

“I don’t care! You…you…you…God, Alex! Really?! I can’t believe you!” she gasps.

“Well, we did,” I snap, my voice rising a little as anger squeezes my chest. “So, what?! I’m sick of everyone treating me like a lost puppy! This is my life! I said I wanted him to do that and he did. It was consented like I said! He asked every time if I was alright!”

“You weren’t supposed to have effing sex with him!” Eliza snaps. We suddenly grow quiet. Eliza, the sweet, kind-hearted Eliza, never cursed. But she doesn’t to care. “This is a two-week thing Alex and that’s it!”

“Like I said, Eliza!” I growl, standing up and marching towards her, looking down at her. I can see her shrink a little. “This is my life! I can make my own decisions and if I wanted to have sex with him, I can! I love John Laurens! So stop acting like my mother and let me live my own effing life!”

“Your mother is dead!” Eliza shrieks, loud enough for the halls to hear. Her voice suddenly goes scarily quiet. My heart stops as I breathe hard through my nose. “No wonder you were called a whore.”

Silence. There’s nothing in the halls but silence.

I can feel all the student’s eyes on us. Eliza’s eyes widen as she realizes what she had just said. She gasps, stepping back a little and meeting my eyes. I feel my chin wobbling as I clench my fists, trying to calm myself down. I swallow thickly, my throat squeezing tight around the airway, making it difficult for me to breathe. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying not to let the tears fall.

Eliza’s own eyes start to water, her eyes wide and face pale at the realization what she had just said to be. She opens her mouth to apologize but before she could utter a word, I swing my bookbag over my shoulder and spin around on my heel, storming towards the male’s bathroom without saying a word.

A few seconds later, I reach the bathroom. I frustratingly wipe the tears off of my freckled cheeks with the heel of my palm, sniffing loudly. My chin hasn’t stopped wobbling and I’ll occasionally let out choked sob and I’ll shake a little too. I swing a bathroom stall door open and slam it shut behind me, locking it. I squeeze my eyes shut, the memory of my mother’s death playing in my head, wishing she was here as I slide down the bathroom stall. I draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them tightly, and resting my forehead behind my knees, tears slipping down my cheeks nonstop. I hear faintly my mother’s voice in my head, saying my name, singing her lullaby to me in French as a baby, counting in French while standing behind me, teaching me piano. I squeeze my eyes harder as more tears slip down my cheeks.

“Alex?” a familiar southern voice says, breaking the silence in the bathroom.

I lift my head from my knees, sniffling and wiping away a few stray tears off of my cheeks. I turn towards the closed bathroom stall door and sniff again, my whole body quivering.

“Alex, it’s me…” says the voice. It’s male too.

I wipe the tears off of my cheek with my palm and sniff. My voice cracks as I whimper out his name.

“J-Jack…?” I whimper, wincing at how weak I sound.

I can feel him nod on the other side of the door. “Yeah, Alex. It’s me. Jack.” A pause. “May I…may I come in?”

I swallow thickly, licking my dry lips before finally pushing myself up off the ground and unlocking the door. I push the door open to see John Laurens himself standing before me with a small smile on his face.

“Hey,” he whispers, brushing a lock of red hair behind my ear.

I sniff, smiling a little at him as I wrap my arms around my slim body. “Hi…”

He presses a kiss to my forehead, whispering, “Come here…” and wrapping his muscular arms around me, rubbing my back up and down as I rest my cheek against his chest right underneath his chin. I close my eyes gently, letting a few choked sobs as I listen to his heartbeat beating softly against my ear. He rests his cheek on my head, shushing me and rocking me side to side in his arms. He presses a kiss to my forehead again, closing his own eyes and letting his soft lips linger on my forehead a little bit. “I-It’s n-not fair…” I gasp, clutching onto his shirt as if I were going to lose him too.

“Shh, shh,” John whispers, resting his cheek on my head again, cradling me in his arms. “Shh…”

“I-I just want…w-want her b-back…” I whimper, trying to calm myself down, trying to focus on John’s heart beating softly against my ear.

“Shh, shh, I know,” John soothes, pressing another kiss to my forehead.

“I…E-Everyone’s gone…” I gasp. “M-Mom…D-Dad…J-James…P-Peter…and now G-Gil…”

“Shh, shh…”

“J-Jack…?” I choke. He looks down at me, his blue eyes softening, brushing back a few auburn locks out of my eyes.

“P-Promise me…promise me you won’t leave me…ever…” I whimper.

“Shh…I promise my dear boy,” John whispers, looking into my eyes before leaning down to press a long, loving kiss to my lips as though it were our last kiss.

“Eliza’s really sorry, Alex,” John says after a few minutes of silence. We’re both huddled against each other in the bathroom stall against the wall. My head on his shoulder, eyes closed as I listen to John’s voice. John’s arm around me tightly, occasionally pressing kisses to either my forehead or my lips. “She’s…devastated, Alex. She never meant any of the thing she said…”

“How do you know?”

“She was a blubbering mess when I arrived at your locker,” he says. My heart aches at the thought of Eliza, the sweet and kind and trusting Eliza, the Eliza who was like a sister I never had, hurt and broken as much as I am right now. “She kept apologizing to me over and over again, saying she’d never say anything like that to anyone. She was just shocked by the fact that you and I had…well…you know…she told me you were like a brother to her, Alex and that she loved you like a brother, and that she never intended to hurt you that way.”

“I…I should go…I should go and apologize to her, for her running out on her like that and scaring her half to death,” I say.

John laughs a little through his nose, nodding with agreement. He stands up and extends his hand out towards me, that charming smirk I fell in love with planted on his face.

“Come on,” John says. “Let’s go. We have class to get to.”

I stand on my toes slightly and press a kiss to his lips before following him out the bathroom.

***

“Alex!” Eliza cries when she sees me walking down the hall with John. She runs towards me and before I could utter a word, she flings her arms around me tightly, catching me off guard. “Oh, Alex! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I never meant any of that! I’m so, so sorry, Alex! Please! I never meant to hurt you like that! I would never hurt anyone! You’re like a brother to me, Alex and I-I—”

“Eliza,” I say sharply, a small smile on my face as I grab her by the shoulders to steady her. “It’s okay, really. I…I forgive you, Liza.”

She sniffs, a shy smile on her face. “R-Really…?”

“Really,” I say with a chuckle. “I know you don’t mean those things. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.”

She shakes her head. “N-No, Alex! You have nothing to apologize for! I’m the one who hurt you—”

“Eliza,” I say. “Listen to me.” Surprisingly, she does. I huff out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Eliza. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I was just…it’s just…that word…that…W word…it just…it just triggered me. I mean, before I came to New York, after my mother passed and my brother was still alive, he and I were called that all the time.”

There’s silence among the group. Eliza just stares at me, shock and confusion written all over her face and let’s face it, a little fear. But she seems calm now. She’ll occasionally sniff but other than that, she seems okay now. John stands beside me, smiling encouragingly at me. Angelica and Peggy behind Eliza, suddenly curious about my tragic backstory.

“Oh…” Eliza says. “I’m so sorry, Alexander…”

“Shh, it’s okay, Eliza. Really.”

“Really?” she says.

I nod. “Really. I forgive you, Eliza.”

“So, we’re good?” she sniffs, a sheepish smile on her face.

I nod. “We’re good.”

She smiles wide, sniffing again before embracing me again. After a few seconds she pulls back. “I’m so sorry, Alex…”

“Eliza. Stop apologizing. I’ve forgiven you and it’s in the past now. Come on. Let’s go to class. We’ll be late.”

She smiles wide again and nods. I wrap my arm around her with John on my left and Peggy on Eliza’s side and Angelica next to John.

“So, it’s true?” Peggy says. “You and John…?”

I nod. “Mhm.”

“And it was consented?” Angelica asks, arching an eyebrow, still sipping on her coffee.

I nod again. “Mhm.”

“HA! Pay up, Angie!” Peggy suddenly shrieks, causing all three of us to jump, startled.

“Dang it!” Angelica hisses, pulling out a twenty from her back pocket and slapping it against Peggy’s palm. She then grumbles something incoherently under her breath as Peggy chuckles with a triumphant grin on her face as she tucks her twenty in her pocket.

“You guys betted on us?” John asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, duh!” Peggy says, smirking.

A pause.

“Now…here’s the real question…” Peggy says as we begin walking down the hallways towards class. “Who was top and who was bottom?”

“Peggy!” Eliza gasps, appalled, as she whacks her younger sister’s arm.

“If you want the honest truth, Pegs,” John says. “Alex was bottom…”

“And John was top,” I say with a warm blush creeping over my freckled cheeks. Again.

“Ah-HA!” Angelica laughs. “Pay up lil' sis!”

“Damn it…” Peggy sighs, pulling out a twenty and slapping it in Angelica’s palm. Angelica smiles with a triumphant grin on her face, shoving the dollar bill into her bookbag.

“Ugh, guys, seriously?” Eliza shudders.

“Ah, come on, Eliza!” John says. “They’re teenagers! What do you expect them to do?”

“I expect them to be responsible teenagers!” Eliza huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her sisters.

“Oh, Eliza, sweetheart,” Angelica mews, patting her sister’s shoulder. “Always the innocent one.”

Eliza rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” Though, she smiles kindly at John and I when she faces us. “We’ll see you in class, right?”

“Of course!” I say. “See you guys in a few!”

“You to, Ham!” Peggy says as Eliza starts dragging her two sisters down the hall and around the corner.

I glance at the clock. We still have about twenty minutes until class starts. John and I could probably sneak in a little session before hand…

With a sly smirk on my face, I grab John by the elbow and drag him down the hallways. John nearly trips over himself multiple times over his shoelaces as we race down the halls towards the bathrooms again, trying to catch up to me, maneuvering past students, bumping into their shoulders and occasionally mumbling quiet apologies.

“A-Alex! What are you—”

We reach the male’s bathroom. I swing the door open wide and shove John inside, letting the door shut behind me. So far, it seems empty in the bathroom except for us. Grinning, I cup John’s jaws in my hands and pull him down for a long, loving kiss. Kissing slowly at first and then going faster, desperate. With our eyes closed, John pushes me against the wall near the first sink and near the door, kissing like it’s our last day on Earth. I snake my arms around his neck, my back pressed against the wall while John’s hands slide down my sides and towards my hips, gripping them tight to keep me balanced and steady.

After a few more minutes, I pull back, our foreheads touching, letting out breathless, sharp pants as we try to catch our breath. I crack open my eyes, looking up into John’s beautiful diamond blues. He smiles wide, batting his eyes and pulls me into another kiss. I make a grunt of surprise as my fingers slowly trail up towards his honey blonde hair while he still grips my hips, tugging me closer to him.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything…” says a southern voice from behind us, causing John and I to immediately spring back to each other.

I gasp, eyes wide as we pull apart, peering over John’s shoulder to see who the intruder is. He’s young perhaps around my age or even John’s or perhaps a year older than both of us even with raven black hair combed back, hair gel was obviously used to keep it in place and shine underneath the fluorescent lights above us. His dark brown eyes narrow, a sly smirk on his face as he leans against the sink behind us with his arms crossed over his chest and ankles crossed over each other as well. He appears to be John’s height too and also muscular, perhaps one of the members from the football team.

I notice John’s shoulders hunch towards his ears as he grows incredibly stiff, his blue eyes wide and face paling. He swallows thickly, though I can tell he’s grinding his teeth as he tries to control his anger and try to keep calm. He leans into my ear.

“You stay behind me, you hear me…?” John whispers into my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin that I have to shiver.

I let out a shaky breath and nod, looking fearfully into John’s eyes. “Jack…who’s—”

He puts a finger to my lips. “Shh. Just stay behind me.”

“Oh no,” the boy behind us says. “Do continue. It was quite the show.”

John locks eyes with me once before letting out a trembly breath. He inhales sharply, steadying himself and clenching his fists at his sides before he slowly cranes his neck over his shoulder. His eyes instantly widen with fear and hatred and confusion, his face becoming paler by the second, almost as white as snow. It looks as though he just saw a ghost.

“Hello, Laurens. Did you miss me?”

Chapter Text

“FRANICS,” JOHN GASPS, his eyes widen. I frown, furrowing my brows together, glancing between John and “Francis” but I stay close behind John.

“Sup Laurens?”
“Francis” says. “See you haven’t changed much.”

John’s shocked expression suddenly changes and twists into a hatred scowl. He growls behind clenched teeth, clenching his fists by his sides as he tries to calm himself down. I rest a hand on John’s shoulder, in hopes it would help some.

“What are you doing here?” John hisses through clenched teeth.

Francis shrugs. “Miss you, babe. I thought I’d come by and giving you a little surprise visit.”

“Well, guess who’s fault was that!” John snaps, narrowing his eyes at Francis. I’m still blinking my eyes, confused as hell, as I glance back and forth between them.

“Look, Jack—”

“Don’t call me that,” John hisses, jabbing a finger at Francis. “You lost that privilege a long time ago.”

Francis merely puts both his hands up. He starts inching his way closer towards John which makes John immediately take a step back closer to me.

“Aw, come on John,” Francis says. “I’ve missed you!”

“It’s been effing years Francis! What the hell are you doing here?!” John says.

“Like I said, Jack. I just wanted to give you a surprise visit!”

“Well, now you have. Now leave!” John says quickly, pointing towards the bathroom door.

“Look. I know I’m not as patriotic as you, Jack, but really. I’m truly sorry, babe.” A pause. “I really am, honey.”

“It’s been years, Kinloch. Do you honestly think I’m going to go back to you after what you did to me?!”

“Jack—”

“Stop! Just stop it, okay?! Stop calling me that! Just stop it. I want you out, Kinloch!” John’s voice cracks and just hearing that makes my own heart crack. “You...You’ve…you…what in the exact hell are you doing here?”

I grow tense, my eyes widen, when I see Francis brush back a few strands of honey blonde hair out of John’s eyes which are start to brim.

“I haven’t seen you in years,” John whispers sharply, glaring up at Francis dead in the eye. “You don’t know…how…much…I’ve…longed…to…do…this!”

Before Francis could make a move, however, John brings his arm up, reeling it back so his elbow is just past his ear and swings his fist towards Francis’s nose, earning a satisfying crack. I let out a shriek of surprise and press my back harder against the wall. I stare, wide-eyed, as Francis collapses onto the cold floor, clutching onto his nose. John shrugs off my shoulder and grabs a fistful of Francis’s shirt collar and swings multiple blows to Francis’s jaw. I just stand there paralyzed as John punches Francis over and over again. Francis doesn’t do anything back. Just grins.

“You! You! You! You! You! You! You! After all this time you decide NOW would be the best time to come back?! After you broke up with me and…and stayed in Geneva when I begged you to come home with me…” A punch. “You—” An undercut. “You lying, selfish bastard!” A punch to the jaw.

“John! John, stop!” I scream, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him off of Francis. Poor Francis lays there on the ground, dramatically coughing and wheezing, a few scrapes of blood appears on his chin and cheek. I grab John by both elbows and force him back off of Francis, holding his arms towards his sides and trying to drag him towards the bathroom door.

“Out!” John screams at Francis, sending him daggers. Francis props himself up on elbow, massaging his poor broken nose as I struggle to drag John out of the bathroom, grunting here and there. “Out! I want you out! We’re done! Don’t you get it?! It’s been years since we broke up and now…NOW of all times you want—”

The bathroom door slams shut before he could even finish. I drag John all the way down towards the middle of the hall, away from the bathroom. I cup John’s jaws with both hands, forcing him to look at me.

“John. John, shh. Hey, hey. Look at me. Look at me.”

Fortunately, John forces himself to open his eyes and look down into mine. I smile a little, brushing back a few pieces of blonde hair behind his ears, shushing him and cooing him until he can finally breathe and is calm.

“I’m so sorry, Alex,” John whimpers, slouching a little with defeat and flopping his forehead down onto my shoulder, letting his arms dangle by his sides. “I’m so sorry you had to see me like that…again…”

“Shh. It’s okay, Jack. Just breathe.” A pause. John lifts his head up from my shoulder. “Are you alright? Who was he?”

John sniffs and lets out a shaky breath and nods. “Yeah. I’m fine. And to answer your question he’s…” He swallows. “He was my ex-boyfriend.”

“Your ex?”

“Yeah…he uh…I really don’t…I really don’t…”

I rest a hand on his bicep, rubbing it up and down. “Shh. It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it right now. Just focus on now, focus on me, and breathe. Calm down. It’s okay, Jack. He’s gone.”

“I hope so,” John murmurs, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close to his side as we begin walking towards English. I rest my head on his shoulder. “I just…I just don’t get why…of all these years…I don’t know how he’s here. I don’t how he…he got here, how’d he find me…?”

“John,” I say, glancing up at him. “Let’s not talk about Francis right now and focus on the present, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah. Yeah…” He runs a hand through his hair, puffing out a breath. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re right, Alex.”

“So…” I whistle, horribly attempting to start a conversation. “So, uh…you’re coming to homecoming dance at the end of October, right?”

He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck and a warm blush creeps over his cheeks. “Er…well…um…I do love dancing just uh…not in front of people. I mean, I’ll go and hang out with the guys and you obviously if you’re going but um…I’m not that great of a dancer.”

I let out a giggle, poking his cheek with my finger. “Hey. You know what else is funny?”

“What?” John chuckles, arching an eyebrow.

I stand on my toes a little and whisper into his ear, “I’m not such a great dancer, either.”

“Pff,” John laughs. “Really? I mean, with a body like yours, Alexander, I was so certain—”

“I’m not.” I say it flatly, sternly. I grab his wrist. “Come on. Let’s go before I give George a heart attack.”

***

“Dude, where were you?” says the girl next to me in English. I look up from my textbook, glancing at her over my shoulder and arching an eyebrow.

“What?” I say stupidly.

“Where were you? You nearly gave Mr. Washington a full on panic attack!” says the girl, tapping her pen on her notebook.

“Um…” I say, glancing at John now, who shrugs, before turning back towards the girl. She has warm brown skin like Peggy and walnut curls in the almost exact same style as Peggy and hazel brown eyes. She could be mistaken for Peggy’s twin, if the Schuyler Sisters had twins. She wears a simple red leather jacket with a black long-sleeved shirt underneath and dark blue denim jeans.

“Oh, I don’t think we’ve properly introduced ourselves since you arrived here at King’s,” she says. She tucks a loose curl behind her ear and extends her hand out towards me with a kind smile. “The name’s Maria Reynolds. A pleasure.”

“Alexander Hamilton,” I say, shaking her hand once firmly. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

“So, Alexander, where were you? Mr. Washington nearly called the cops thinking you were kidnapped from the school when you didn’t show up to class ten minutes after the bell rang,” Maria says.

“Um…I uh…” I glance at John before turning back to her. “I um…I was uh…I was reading The Shining while waiting for the bell. I um…got lost track of time.”

“Pff. The Shining?” she says. I nod. She gives me a pointed yet unconvincing look. “You were reading The Shining?”

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “You know? Here’s Johnny!”

“I didn’t know you read Stephen King,” John says with a smirk.

“Shut it,” I say. “But yeah. I, Alexander Hamilton, was reading The Shining.” A pause. I eye her curiously, leaning forward slightly on my desk. “Have you read any Stephen King books?”

Her face suddenly goes pale and her eyes wide. She swallows. “Once. And that is a day I do not want to relive…”

“Which one was it?” John asks.

Maria swallows again and presses her palm against the corner of her lip. “One about a certain clown…”

“You read IT?!” John and I both shriek at the same time, our eyes wide with shock.

“Yes! I did! And it was a terrible mistake! Could not sleep for a week!” she says, leaning against her desk towards us. “I was even too afraid to step near sewers!”

John slaps my shoulder as he and I burst into laughter, causing a few students who are trying to work independently and in peace glare at us over their shoulders.

“Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Laurens,” George calls from his desk, arching both eyebrows with a small smile tugging on his lips and giving us a scolding look. John and I blush a little at each other before clamping our mouths shut.

“Sorry, Dad,” I murmur, scratching the back of my neck.

“Apologies, Mr. Washington, sir,” John mumbles, ducking his chin towards his chest embarrassingly. I knock my knee against his. He smiles, knocking his knee against mine. George huffs out a breath through his mouth, rolling his gray-blue eyes and shaking his head. I think I hear the word, “Children”, under his breath as he turns back towards his computer, typing away.

After English, I head towards my locker with John standing beside me, my fingers intertwined with his at our sides, swinging our arms back and forth as we walk. We reach my locker and I twist the knob back and forth until I hear it click and swing it open. John sneaks in a kiss to my cheek from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder as I exchange the English supplies to my Biology supplies.

“Love you, Ginger” John says in a sing-song like voice, pecking a kiss to the back of my neck and hums contently.

“Love you too, Jack-ass,” I snort, whipping my head around to sneak a kiss to his lips.

John gives me an accusing glare. “Hey!”

“That’s what you get for calling me, Ginger,” I say, jabbing a finger at his chest.

John opens his mouth to protest before clamping it back shut and huffs. I smirk triumphantly as I stuff my Biology supplies into my bookbag.

“I hate you,” John grumbles, standing up a little straighter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Love you too,” I say, patting his smooth cheek before going back to my task.

A pause. In my peripheral, I can see John hesitate, his brows furrowed together, lips pinched tight as he eyes me. He swallows as he thinks about something. I can tell he wants to say something, to ask something it seems, but he’s finding it difficult to spit the words out.

“Alex?” John says, his tone flat and serious.

I frown, furrowing my own brows together and wondering why John sounds like this all of a sudden. Is it because of his ex-boyfriend, Francis, or his father perhaps? Or…me? Well, I’m about to find out. I finish stuffing the last bit of unnecessary supplies into my locker before slamming it shut and locking it back up. I spin around on my heels to face John, locking violet eyes with sky-blue ones as I swing my shoulder strap to my bookbag over my shoulder. I tilt my head up a little and tilt it to the side, arching an eyebrow curiously.

“Yeah?” I say.

John purses his lips, licking them before letting out a breath, folding his arms over his chest. “Um…my father…he uh…I don’t know if…” John clears his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, rocking on his heels. He seems nervous. “Uh…I…um…my father wants to meet you…”

“Meet me?” I say as we start heading towards Biology. “He already has!”

He shakes his head, pressing his lips together again. “Um…no…he uh…he um…wants to meet you…personally.”

“Personally?”

“Yeah…um…he uh…wants to like interview you…”

“Interview me?”

John clears his throat, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. “Like ask you what your intentions with me are or something like that…”

“Oh…” is all I was able to manage.

“Yeah…he texted me and said tonight would be best if you’re alright with tonight…”

I swallow, remembering the dinner from before with Mr. Laurens outbursts and anger at my presence next to John. But as his boyfriend now, I should support him. And I do. I want to, not by anyone’s will, but mine. I lock eyes with his and nod once, sharp. John sighs with relief, thanking me over and over again and presses a kiss to my lips. I let out a trembly, nervous breath as I stare with wide-eyes as we walk down the halls.

This is going to be a long night, isn't it?

Chapter Text

WHEN SCHOOL ENDS, I ride home with George since John had football practice after school and he was planning on hanging out with the guys for quite some time. He told me it would be pretty late when John comes back home. I told him I was fine by it and just to be careful and safe, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before following George through the school’s parking lot and climb into the passenger seat, fiddling with my thumbs nervously as I try to figure out what to say to Mr. Laurens tonight. George notices my nervousness and eyes me with concern as he starts up his car. He frowns a little, tilting his head as he brushes back a few fallen auburn bangs that’s in my eyes.

“You alright, Alexander?” George asks.

I worry my lower lip, glancing at him quickly and then back at my hands in my lap. I nod, swallowing the lump down my throat.

“Mhm. I’m fine, Dad,” I say. “Just uh…just nervous…”

“About what, son?”

“Um…John told me that his father, Mr. Laurens, he uh…he told me that his father wants to meet me.”

“Meet you?”

I nod. “Personally…” I glance at George’s profile. His face remains straight, eyes on the road now. “Like interview me, is what John compared it too. Uh…” I clear my throat. “To uh…ask what my intentions and stuff are with his son and all that…”

George’s lips curl slightly. “Ah, yes. Meeting the parents. I’ve done that before. Martha’s parents aren’t exactly the um…accepting and trusting people immediately type…they’re more of the…” George clears his throat. “Paranoia type people.”

“Just like you, huh?” I say, arching an eyebrow and folding my arms over my chest, leaning against the window sill in the car.

“What?” George splutters. “I’m not…paranoid…”

I give George a knowing look. “Dad…”

He sighs, running his hand through his ginger-colored hair, his cheeks puffing out as he exhales sharply. “Okay, maybe I am a little paranoid. But I’m just trying to look after you, Alexander.”

Before I could open my mouth to protest, George snaps with his finger pointed at me, “I don’t care how old you are, son. I know you’re old enough to make your own decisions in your life, Alexander, but like I said before: I’m just trying to look after you, my boy.”

I smile sheepishly a little, glancing out the window now instead of his profile, staring at the massive steel skyscrapers towering over us as they blur together as we zoom past them, flashing random advertisements on their sides. Pedestrians mill about, chatting with one another and laughing a little bit and children rushing through the crowds, playing tag on the sidewalks it looks like. I smile a little at them, my palm resting on the corner of my chin.

“You remind me so much of him, Alexander,” George says suddenly after a few minutes of silence in the car, attempting to start a conversation.

I frown with curiosity as I whip my head over my shoulder. I raise an eyebrow. “Of who, Dad?”

George’s lip curls upward slightly when I say the word “Dad” probably out of pride. He clears his throat and glances at me for a split second before returning his gaze at the road in front of him.

“My brother. Your uncle,” he says.

“My uncle?” I prompt, suddenly intrigued. George never told me he had a brother the three years I’ve lived with him.

He nods. “Mhm. Lawrence was his name. He was very much like you. Though, if you want the honest truth here, I’d say he’s much like Mr. Laurens.”

“You never told me about him, Dad,” I say slowly. “Why are you telling me about him now?”

George frowns, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. “It uh…it brings me painful memories. Just like your past. That’s why I’ve never mentioned him to anyone except for Martha. I’m too afraid I’ll become emotional and embarrass myself in front of people when I talk about him.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

George smiles softly, brushing back a few locks of red hair behind my ears again and out of my eyes. He pats my cheek affectionately.

“I think you deserve to know,” George says.

“Is…is Uncle Lawrence alive…?” I whisper, suddenly afraid of what George will say. By the sound of George’s tone, it appears Uncle Lawrence is…deceased.

George pinches his lips together and swallows. He narrows his eyes and tries to calm himself. He shakes his head. I let out a breath, eyes wide a little.

“No. He isn’t. He uh…he died when I was young. Perhaps around your age I believe or in my early twenties. I can’t remember. He died of tuberculosis.”

Silence.

“Oh.” A pause. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

George smiles a little, humming. “It’s alright, Alexander. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. But now you do.” A pause. “I have something of his to give you when we get home.”’

“What? Dad, I can’t—”

George puts his hand on my shoulder now, squeezing it. “He would want you to have whatever it is I’m about to give you, Alexander. I’ve…I’ve had this for most of my life. And…I think it’s now time to pass it on. To you.”

I swallow and nod once. George nods back with approval, lowering his hand from my shoulder.

“What was he like…?” I wonder aloud. “Uncle Lawrence…?”

George smiles a little. “He uh…he was very much both like you and Mr. Laurens. He was smart, very intelligent I should say. He was clever and quick-witted. He was brave and reckless like Mr. Laurens. But also determined like you. He dedicated his work very much and deeply cared about time. He told me, before he died, he told me I should not waste time doing foolish things because time is most prominent. Time is essential and it can go away quickly before you even know it.”

“Those are some words of wisdom,” I comment with an impressed look on my face. George sneaks a glance at me, arching an eyebrow. I swallow, shrinking back a little in my seat. “I-I mean in a kind way…”

George laughs through his nose, nodding his head in agreement. “They are indeed, Alexander. They are indeed.” A pause. “We did everything together growing up. He taught me everything I need to know: how to survive, how to be both a gentleman and a man, how to be a leader, how to…” He glances at me again. “How to be a father.” He turns back to the road. We make a left.

“You two were close?” I prompt curiously.

He nods. “We were. Just like you and Gilbert. We were inseparable. But you know what they say, Alex: Until death do we part.”

We remain silent for the rest of the ride.

***

I climb up the steps to my bedroom, trudging exhaustedly half the way there, gripping the shoulder strap to my bag tightly. I open my bedroom door, flopping my bookbag down on the end flopping onto the bed itself. After a few minutes of just lying there, I swing my legs around the edge and push myself up, heading towards my desk to start on homework. I pull out my binders and my notebooks and pens and highlighters and my earbuds, etcetera. I lay them all out neatly on my desk. I flip the laptop lid to my computer and shake the mouse to wake it up. I plug in my earbuds to the computer and once the computer is up and running, I pull open Spotify and put on some Lo-fi beats to keep me concentrated on my work. I flip open my agenda, trailing my finger down the page to figure out which subject to focus on first. Okay, first thing's first, I think. Let's get this Biology essay out of the way. Yeah? Yeah. Okay, good talk.

I don't know how long it's been since I began working, my eyes glued to the screen in front of me, my fingers typing away rapidly. I'll occasionally glance at the flipped open textbook for reference before going back to typing, my chin in my palm, elbow on the edge of my desk with my eyes squinted at the screen. I pucker my lips, as though I've tasted something sour, and lick my dry, chapped lips and furrow my brows as I stop typing for a second, trying to figure out what sentence would make sense and flows best with the others. After about ten seconds, it suddenly comes back and I continue typing away, occasionally taking an unhealthy swing of my water. My phone suddenly vibrates next to me, causing me to jerk in my seat. I yelp with surprise, yanking out one earbud from my ear and glaring hard at my phone. I frown a little confusedly when I see why it's going off. I smile wide, however, when I see that the caller ID reads: LAFFY AMERICA'S FAVORITE FIGHTING FRENCHMAN. I yank my phone from its charger and yank both earbuds out of my ears. I spin around in my chair so I'm facing my bed now, beaming radiantly as the sun. I press the ACCEPT button and sure enough there he is: my brother on the other side of the screen.

"Gil!" I squeal, flopping down onto my bed flat on my stomach.

"Ah, there he is! Mon petit frere! How I've missed you, petit lion!" Lafayette says on the other side of the screen.

"I've missed you too, Gil!" I say. I can't stop smiling.

"How've you been, Alex? How's school? Doing okay? You're not getting in trouble, are you?" Lafayette says in a warning tone, but there's a smirk on his face.

I shake my head. "No. I'm not getting in trouble, Gil." I roll onto my back so I'm now staring up at the ceiling. "I'm doing alright! Fantastic, actually! I can't believe it's already been a month since I arrived at King's. I miss you, big bro..."

"Mhm. I miss you too, lil' bro. But I'll be back for Thanksgiving. Just a month away. And for Christmas too and New Years'." A pause. "So. Tell me. How's school?"

"Oh, school. Yeah. It's going great. Um..." I scratch the back of my neck as I roll back onto my stomach, kicking my legs back and forth in the air, hesitant to tell Lafayette about John and I. "Um...I met new some new friends."

"That's amazing, petit lion!" Lafayette says.

I nod, chewing my lower lip. "Yeah...uh...there're mostly John's friends but they also became my friends as well." A pause. "Let's see. There's Tench Tilghman—"

Lafayette chuckles knowingly, a smirk on his face. "Ah. Tilghman. Remember him."

"And there's Richard Kidder Meade and Benjamin Tallmadge and Alan Warren and Nathan Hale and William McHenry I think his name was and Robert Harrison." Another pause. "I'm pretty sure there was another one, but I can't remember his name if there was."

"I'm proud of you, Alex," Lafayette says. He frowns. "You haven't been going out to parties have you...?"

I swallow, eyes wide, as I remember that party at Tilghman's place where John first kissed me. I press my lips together and shake my head. "Mhm. Nope. Just uh...um...being an innocent teenager and staying home, being responsible and actually doing my schoolwork and um...looking for jobs and colleges to apply for..."

Lafayette smiles proudly with a curt nod. "Good. I'm proud of you, Alexander. Really. Oh! And since you're here, I have someone I'd like you to meet! Virtually, in this case."

"Okay...?"

"Alexander? This is Hercules Mulligan...my uh..." Lafayette swallows.

I arch my eyebrows and smirk teasingly at him. I know he's more than just his friend. I can already tell Lafayette's lying to me.

"My uh...my friend that I told you about the other day! Hercules Mulligan!"

A man about Lafayette's age with wavy, shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair and dark brown eyes and a muscular body as well pops up on the screen. He waves shyly at me, a sly grin on his face.

"Ah. So, you're the Little Lion Lafayette has told me so much about," Mulligan says.

I nod with a shy smile on my face. "That I am. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mulligan. As you know, I'm Alexander Hamilton. Lafayette's younger brother."

"Please, call me Hercules. Or Herc if you will for short. And the pleasure's all mine."

A pause as we wait for someone to start another conversation.

"So, Laf told me you were in high school?" Mulligan suddenly asks me, both eyebrows arched upward curiously.

I nod. "Mhm. I am."

"School do you go to now? King's isn't it?" he says.

I nod with confirmation. "Yep."

"I used to go there. Graduated about a year ago." I frown, glancing at Lafayette on the screen before going to back to Mulligan. "So, uh...what grade are you in, Alex—is it alright if I call you Alex?"

I let out a chuckle. "Yeah. It's alright. I don't mind. And to answer your question, a senior."

"Senior," Mulligan says, impressed. "Wow. I'd thought for sure you'd be a junior."

"I'm not," I say. Something buzzes in the distance on the other side of the screen. Mulligan growls with annoyance and rolls his eyes as he checks his own phone. He sighs and glance between Lafayette and I.

"Duty calls," Mulligan sighs, clicking his phone off. "I have work to get too." A pause as he glances at me with a kind smile on his face, followed by a nod. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Alex. I look forward to meeting you in person for the holidays."

I frown, whipping my head towards Lafayette. Lafayette blushes when Mulligan presses a kiss goodbye to his cheek and rushes out of the room they're staying in. Probably their dorm. Once I hear the door click shut, I shoot an accusing glare at Lafayette, sitting upright against my pillows.

"You INVITED HIM?! GIL!" I shriek.

"Oh, Alex. Relax!" Lafayette says. "He's not that bad, I promise!"

"You don't know that, Gil!" I say. "For all I know, he could be a serial killer! O-Or—"

"He's a tailor, not a serial killer, Alexander. Calm the hell down!"

"No! I won't calm the hell down!" I snap, mocking his voice at the last few words with a roll of my eyes. I continue to glare at him. "Gil, he's like what twenty-one? Twenty-two? And you're...you're..." I struggle to find the right words. "You're inviting a stranger for the holidays...?"

"He's not a stranger, Alex! Geeze—"

"Do Mom and Dad know?" I say with one arm across my chest and my knees drawn up. My phone propped against my knees. "About Hercules coming over? About you two?"

Silence. Lafayette levels my gaze and he sets his jaw, trying to school his features.

"I know," I say. "I know you two are something more than 'friends.'" I let out a sigh. "I'm just...I'm sorry, Gil. I just...I just want to make sure you don't get hurt...is all..."

Lafayette smiles a little, seeming to relax now. "I know, Alex. I know. I know this year has been rough for you, Alex. Has been rough for me. But I can assure you, if you just give him a chance, Alex. I'm telling you, Alex. He's really sweet. He's a charmer that's for sure. A romantic. But no. Really, Alex. Just give him a chance. I promise you."

I frown, locking eyes with my brother's. "Alright. Alright, fine. But if he hurts you, I won't hesitate to break his neck."

Lafayette smirks, laughing through his nose with a nod. "Yes. Headlock and a twist."

"Headlock and a twist..." I mumble.

I hear a creak next to me, and glance over my shoulder to see George opening my bedroom door, poking his head through the cracked door, a small smile on his face.

"I have to go, Gil," I say. "Dad wanted to give me something when we got home today. I don't know what."

"Alright. I'll let you go. I have my studies to get too anyways. Love you."

I smile a little. "Love you too."

Lafayette smiles one last time as he hangs up. I stare at my phone for a minute or so before clicking it off and following George out the room. I keep my hands in my back pockets as we walk down the hall towards his and Martha's bedroom. George slowly opens the door and I follow in after him. He closes it behind me and sits himself down on the bed. I sit down next to him.

"So, what is it?" I ask.

George smiles genuinely and pulls out a small chest-like box onto his lap from one of the drawers in his nightstand next to his bed. He unruffles some papers and pulls out a gold watch with a brownish colored leather wrist band. It's antique it looks like probably from the 1940s or something. George grabs my wrist and places the watch in my hand.

"This was your uncle's," he says. "He gave it to me when I was about eight or so. Said never to waste time with foolish things like I told you. Like I also told you, Alexander, time is prominent. Time can go away quickly without you even knowing."

I stare at the watch, shocked that George would even trust me with this, would even give it to me. He never gives his personal items to anyone. I look up into his gray-blue eyes. He still has that small smile on his face.

I swallow. "Are you sure, Dad?"

He nods. "Yes. He'd want you to have it, Alexander."

He pats my shoulder as he stands up, pressing a kiss to my forehead before heading towards the bedroom door. He pauses and smirks a little as he glances at me over his shoulder.

"Oh. And remember, my boy, it's only a matter of time."

The bedroom door clicks shut behind him and I stare back down at the watch, shock and confusion still written on my face. But not even five seconds later, I feel a small smile tugging on my lips.

It's only a matter of time.

Chapter Text

JOHN PULLS UP to his apartment complex around six in the evening. Well, if you want the exact time, it's currently six fifteen. John parks his Taurus and grips the steering wheel with one hand while he grips mine with the other, our fingers threaded through each other's. I smile a little at our size difference in our hands. His is slightly larger than mine and feels warm against my palm. I brush the back of his knuckles with the pad of my thumb comfortingly in small circles. John stares intently at the apartment complex in front of us, worrying his lower lip as he squeezes both the steering wheel and my hand. He lets out a breath and glances at me with a small smile on his face.

"You look beautiful, Alexander," John whispers, squeezing my hand once more. I press my lips together into a firm line but feel them quirk upward slightly at the comment. I feel a warm blush creep over my cheeks.

"Thank you, Jack," I say, pecking his cheek. "You look very handsome."

John scoffs mixed with a laugh. "Thank you, Alexander."

John brings our intertwined hands up to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of my knuckles, letting his soft yet rough lips linger on my knuckles for a moment, closing his beautiful sky-blue eyes gently. He opens his eyes again and lowers our hands down.

"We should get going," John breathes, staring back anxiously at the apartment buildings in front of him. He swallows. "My father should be here in about an hour or so. Which gives me enough time to prep for dinner."

I grin slyly, teasingly. "I didn't know you cooked..."

John smirks a little. "My mother taught me everything I need to know."

John leans across to press a firm kiss to my lips. He unlocks the doors and kicks the driver side door open. He turns off the vehicle, grabbing his keys and phone from the console and shuts the driver side door. My eyes follow him around the hood of the car as he walks towards my side. I smile kindly as he swings my door open, extending out his hand. I rest mine in his and he helps me up and out of the car, grabbing Eliza's white-golden shawl she let me borrow for tonight in case it got chilly, wrapping it around my shoulders before closing the door behind him. John opens his arm out to me and I link mine through his as we begin walking towards his apartment.

We enter through the front doors and head towards the elevator, a couple of people nod at us in greeting, smiling kindly as they exit the building. John presses the elevator button with the arrow going up. After a few minutes of waiting, the bell dings as the metal doors slide open. We step inside, the door closes and I can see my reflection faintly in the metal door in front of us. I watch the number 5 glow white and we start to ascend upwards. John's wearing something simple tonight. Nothing too fancy like he wore on our first dinner night with Henry Laurens. Just a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants and shoes. His cufflinks are rolled back a little to reveal his watch. His honey blonde hair is pulled back in its usual loose ponytail, draping over the back of his neck, a few strands of blonde hair falling in front of his ears. He starts to whistle a tune as we continue going up, tapping the bar behind us. He glances at me over his shoulder and smiles once more. A cheeky smile.

I, however, am dressed as Alexandrea Hamilton once more. My auburn hair in a low bun Eliza had done. Peggy had helped me with the dress for tonight, an emerald green long-sleeved dress. Nothing too fancy like a ballgown or something like that. Just a simple evening dinner dress, long and thin, smooth and flowy, shaping out my small waist and hips beautifully. It touches the floor, hiding my feet. I wear little makeup: just simple eyeshadow and a light pink blush and pink lipstick. I wear Uncle Lawrence's watch on my wrist. The elevator comes to a stop once we reach the fifth floor. It dings as the door slides open. John holds out his arm and I link mine through his again, walking down the halls with my shoulder rested on his eyes. I glance out the window next to us, staring at the beautiful New York City below. The buildings seem to glow under the sun as it sets slowly behind them, its sunrays shining through the buildings beautifully. The sky starts to go from a blue to a navy blue as it sets. Birds continue to flap their wings and chirp as they fly across the sky. Cars blur together as they zoom down the interstates.

John presses the button to his door and we enter his apartment a few minutes after walking. He smiles down at me, pressing a kiss to my forehead before releasing my arm and head towards the kitchen to start dinner. I stand in the doorway for a few seconds, scanning the area. His apartment is just as I remembered the last time I came here, all cleaned and organized. Barely any remaining dishes out in the open or trash. The only things that are out are his laptop on the coffee table in the living room which is closed and a few sheets of paper that must be one of his homework assignments along with scattered pens and highlighters. A pair of earbuds lay on top of it. Several stacks of textbooks lay next to his laptop.

I stare at the white grand piano in the corner of the living room near the fireplace and the window. I feel a small smile tugging on my lips as I begin walking towards it, fond memories of my childhood where my mother would sit with me when I was young, teaching me both French and piano. I wonder if John could play... My fingertips brushes over the polished white keys, tilting my head a little. In my peripheral, I see John grinning as he dusts his hands together, walking towards me. He walks around the piano and stands on the opposite side. I look up.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asks, breaking the silence. "The piano, I mean."

I nod, glancing back down at the white keys. "It is..."

John smiles again and sits himself down on the white bench, staring at the instrument fondly. I lean against it, folding my arms on top of each other, tilting my head curiously to one shoulder.

"Can you play?" I suddenly ask with an arched eyebrow. He whips his head up towards me, obviously not surprised by my question. He huffs and nods as he rests his hands gently on the keys, his small smile fading into a frown.

"It's been a while," he says, "but yes. I can." A pause and he look back up at me. "My mother taught me. This piano was hers."

I frown. "Oh...”

A pause. "My mother taught me too. It was the best way I could learn French."

John leans back a little, impressed. "I didn't know you can speak French!"

I grin. "Je t'iame, Jack."

John laughs through his nose, shaking his head. "Love you too, Alex."

I sit down next to him on the bench, both of our feet touching the gold pedals.

"Play me a piece," I whisper, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind his ear absentmindedly, staring at him lovingly.

John arches an eyebrow, glancing at me hesitantly. "You want me to play the piano?"

"You said you can play..."

He nods. "I can." And then frowns a little. "It's just...been a while since I've touched this thing. I just have it for display really. Ever since my mother died, I... I haven't been bothered to touch it, too afraid it would bring back painful memories..."

I nod. "I understand, Jack. I haven't touched a piano as well, even though it's one of my favorite instruments and I used to love playing it as a child. But I would really love to hear you play if you can."

John sighs and nods. "As you wish.”

He presses an A key on the piano and grimaces, hissing through his nose and twisting his face up as though he smelled something sour. He curses silently to himself.

"It needs tuning," he says. "Just give me a sec."

John reaches over to the side, twisting a knob I didn't realize was there before. I smile encouragingly at him once he places his hands on the keys, his wrists up in arch, fingers pressed gently on the white keys. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. He closes his eyes and lets the music take over him. His fingers move gracefully over the keys, his hand reaching towards the high note end before going back to the center. I watch his fingers, gracefully moving across the keys like a dancer, watching them curl over the other. His foot would occasionally press down on the gold pedal, making the note stay longer and echo a bit. John glances at me over his shoulder expectantly, arching an eyebrow. I just stare in awe, completely relaxed. All my fear and worry about personally meeting Mr. Laurens disappears and I feel at peace. My heart flutters when I lock my eyes with his, a small smile on my face.

"Well?" John prompts.

"That...that was beautiful, John...I…how—"

"It was my mother had written herself," John sighs, frowning at the memory. "She...used to play it all the time when I was learning how to play. I'm surprised I still remember it."

I rest my chin on my shoulder, humming contently and closing my eyes. I can feel John smile a little, resting his cheek on my head, his arm around me. After a few seconds, he pulls apart and grips my chin, pressing a long, loving kiss to my lips. His head angles a bit so he could fit his lips on mine, his hands gripping my forearms now while I cup his cheeks with both of my hands, almost squishing his face. His lips then move from my mine down to my jaw and to the side of my neck and to my shoulder and then to my collarbone. I tilt my head a little to give him some space.

After a few minutes, he presses his lips to mine again and rests his forehead against mine, his nose pressing against my cheek. I have my arms hung loosely over his shoulders, my own forehead pressed against his, the tips of our noses touching, our lips an inch apart. I open my violet eyes to lock with his sky-blue ones and brush back another fallen strand of blonde hair out of his face, cradling his cheek and brushing his cheekbone with my thumb. John grabs hold of my wrist and leans into my touch, never taking his eyes off of mine as he presses a light peck to my palm.

"Your Mom would be so proud of you, Jack," I whisper, pecking lips once more. John frowns slightly.

"Would she?"

I nod. "She would. She'd be so proud of you. How brave you were that night when you stood up to your father...how...how you found someone you actually love not by force but by heart." I peck his lips again.

"Your Mom would be so proud of you too, Alexander," John whispers against my cheek, his nose in my auburn hair now. "How...you found a family, how strong you are, how brave and kind you've become, how...your support in me...in us..."

I laugh through my nose but freeze mid-laugh. My eyes widens a little, jaw slacking a little. I look back up into John's eyes. He frowns.

"What? What is it, Alex?" he asks.

"John...do you smell something...?" I whimper, sniffing the air.

John's face pales as his eyes grow wide. He releases me and springs up from the bench, rushing towards the kitchen, shouting out curses as we see some smoke coming from the oven. John grabs a dishtowel nearby and wipes the smoke away, cursing as he pulls out the tray.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" John curses, slamming the tray on top of the oven. He puts his hands on his hips, cursing again as he tosses the towel onto the ground. I hesitantly enter the kitchen, standing next to him and staring at the burnt meat. John runs a hand through his blonde hair, huffing out a breath.

"Well," John sighs. He glances at me over his shoulder with an arched eyebrow. "There's always plan B: Take out."

***

John and I decided to go with something classic: Chinese. We sit at the dining room table, hands intertwined with each other on top of the table as we wait for Mr. Laurens to arrive. John impatiently taps his foot on the ground, drumming his fingers against the table. I try to calm him down by rubbing his bicep up and down comfortingly, though clearly, I can see that doesn't work.

"Relax, John," I say soothingly.

"I can't relax, Alex!" John sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "It's...it's my father. You saw how he was last time!"

"He was confused and angry then. Perhaps he's changed and maybe is ready to accept me...to accept you...as his son."

"That man will never change, Alexander," John snaps, shooting me a hard glare over his shoulder before instantly whipping his head back towards the door.

"I..." He sighs defeatedly. "I just want this to be over."

A pause.

"I don't mean us, I don't want us to be over," John stutters, his face flushing furiously. "I uh...I love you, Alex and uh...I just simply meant—"

I shut him up with a kiss, which instantly takes him off-guard. He makes a startled noise, surprised by my sudden action but melts into it nonetheless. A few seconds later, I pull back slowly, my teeth grazing over his lower lip, our foreheads almost touching.

"Shh, I know," I say. "I know, Jack. I want this to be over to. Just a couple more days."

John sighs. "Just a couple more days..."

The door to John's apartment slides open, causing both and I to instantly pull away from each other. I duck my head towards my chest, feeling a deep, warm blush forming over my freckled cheeks as I press my lips together in a thin line, fiddling nervously with Uncle Lawrence's watch. John stands up from the chair to greet his father.

"Ah-ha! There he is! There's my boy!" I hear Mr. Laurens laugh as he embraces his eldest son tightly.

John grows stiff when Mr. Laurens's arms wraps around him, his eyes widening with confusion and surprise. Mr. Laurens pulls back, his hands on his son's shoulders, scanning him up and down and grinning as he nods once. Sharp.

"Um...hi, Dad?" John says awkwardly. He scratches the back of his neck as he follows his father into the apartment.

"I've seen you've cleaned up the place," Mr. Laurens says, scanning around the room. John glances at me. I shrug as he turns his attention back to Mr. Laurens.

"Um...Dad, it's been cleaned," John says. "Um...Dad? Are you alright?" A pause. "You're not drunk, are you?"

Mr. Laurens makes a scoff noise. "Pff! Me? Drunk? Why would you think that, Jack?"

John tries not to wince at his nickname. Mr. Laurens approaches the dining room and I can feel heat starting to beat faster than it normally does against my chest. John notices my anxiousness and steps in front of me, in between Mr. Laurens and I.

"Because you usually act like this when you're drunk, Dad... Not to be rude or anything but you normally don't act like this around me. Are you feeling alright, Dad?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Jack!" Mr. Laurens exclaims. I shiver as he practically shoves John out of the way and continues walking towards the dining room. Towards me. Mr. Laurens glances over his shoulder for a quick moment. "A man can change, can he?"

John opens his mouth to protest but when nothing comes to mind, he clamps it shut. I swallow thickly when I see Mr. Laurens's feet in front of me, breathing slowly through my nose as I try to calm myself down and to relax. Mr. Laurens grabs hold of my hand and, being a gentleman, presses a kiss to the back of my knuckles. I swallow and try not to grimace as he lowers my hand. He pulls out his chair and sits himself down, scooting up towards the table. John follows soon after sitting in between Mr. Laurens and I.

"You look lovely tonight, Miss Hamilton," Mr. Laurens comments. He sniffs and pushes up his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I apologize for my outburst the other night. That was very inappropriate of me and I apologize in advance if I had offended you in anyway. I was merely upset about the actions my son had made by breaking up with the girl I had given him to marry."

I turn to John with confusion written all over my face. John shrugs and I turnback to Mr. Laurens.

"Um...apology accepted, Mr. Laurens, sir. I completely understand..." I manage to choke out.

He smiles, his lips pressed together. "Well, with that said—"

He pauses and frowns as he glances down at the Chinese boxes in front of us. John's eyes widen and he grips my hand underneath the table and squeezes it. I squeeze it back comfortingly.

"Jack...what's this?" Mr. Laurens asks. He looks up to meet his son's eyes. "I thought you told me we were having hamburgers or steak tonight. Not...junk."

John flinches and sighs. "Um...well...Dad uh...you see...um...Alexandrea here wanted me to show her the piano. She uh...she asked me if I could um...play a piece for her and well...I did. And uh...I got lost track of time after that and sort of forgot about the meat and well...here we are. Plan B."

Mr. Laurens looks highly unimpressed. He shakes his and sighs. He turns to me instead.

"Anyways," Mr. Laurens says. He suddenly grins and picks up his fork.

John turns to me, eyebrows raised with obvious confusion. I shrug as we watch Mr. Laurens scoop out some noodles from a carton and onto his plate. He twirls the noodles around his fork and lifts it up.

"Let's dig in."

Chapter Text

"SO, MISS HAMILTON," Mr. Laurens starts, dapping some sauce off of the corner of his lip with a napkin before resting his hands on top of the table behind his plate. I notice his gold ring on his ring finger. I look up as I lift my fork, munching on some white rice, my eyebrows arched as a sign for him to continue. Mr. Laurens leans back a little in his chair, resting his folded hands on his stomach now. "Tell me about yourself. I don't think we've properly got an introduction last time."

I set my fork down and wipe away the sauce from the corner of my lip with my napkin as well before placing it back down. I meet Mr. Laurens's eyes. He has his eyebrows upward, waiting for me to go on, looking at me expectantly. I clear my throat.

"Um...well...I um...I'm from the Caribbean," I start. Okay, good start, Alex.

Mr. Laurens's eyebrows arch upward even higher than before. He seems surprised. "The Caribbean?"

I swallow and nod. "Yes, sir. I was originally from Nevis in the British West Indies but I soon moved to St. Croix after..." I trail off for second, swallowing before continuing. John gives me an encouraging smile and nods slowly once. I look back at Mr. Laurens. "After my...my...my uh...after my mother died."

Mr. Laurens impressed grin fades into a small frown. "Oh...I'm...I'm so sorry...."

"It's okay," I breathe shakily. "You didn't know and it was a long time ago."

"So...it wasn't recent?" he wonders. I know he's only curious, but still.

I nod. "She died when I was twelve..."

"Alex..." John whispers, pressing a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it—"

I shake my head. My life. My choices. Not theirs. "No. I want to."

John tosses both hands up in the air as he leans back a little to give me space. "Okay. But I'm right here if you need me. Oh, Dad?"

"Yes, son?" Mr. Laurens says.

"Don't intimidate her," John growls, jabbing his fork at his father. "She's...she's quite sensitive to some things."

Mr. Laurens obviously ignores him.

"She died of sickness," I stare at Uncle Lawrence's watch, fiddling with it. "I got the sickness when I was twelve. I managed to pull through but...she...didn't."

Silence.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Hamilton—" Mr. Laurens apologizes.

I cut him off with a small smile. "It's alright, Mr. Laurens, sir. I'm fine. I'm used to it by now. And please, call me Alexandrea. Or Alex if you will."

He nods. "Very well." He clears his throat. "So, uh, I heard you were new at King's High. Correct?"

"Mhm. That I am," I say.

"How uh...how'd you meet my boy?" Mr. Laurens wonders.

"I uh...well," I laugh at the memory. "Well, uh...I met him by my locker on my first day. He uh...he saw me having trouble with my opening my locker and offered some assistance. And well...we became close friends immediately shortly after, and well, we got together."

"Mhm, I see," Mr. Laurens says thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "And uh...what are um..." He clears his throat. "What're your intentions with my boy?"

"Dad..." John says in a warning tone.

I ignore him. "Well, sir," I say. "I um...I just...I just want to love John for who he is. As a person. Not because he's..."

"Not because he's what, Miss Hamilton?" Mr. Laurens inquires.

I bite my tongue to hold back a curse and clear my throat, looking up at him again. "Uh...not because he's um...he's different. Just the way he is. As a human being. And well...um...I just...I just really want to make him happy, sir. I um...I want to make John feel loved and be loved and a place where he come to, a place where he can have a shoulder to cry on if necessary, a place where he can...where he can come home too. I want...I just want John to feel loved and happy. That's all I could ask for, sir."

A pause. Mr. Laurens's upper lip quirks a little and he lets out a "huh" noise. I lean forward against the table slightly.

"I mean, have you heard his laugh?" I say. "It's adorable."

John smirks as he plucks a sushi roll in his mouth, rolling his eyes. I can faintly see a pink blush forming across his cheeks. I grin.

"And he's quite adorable when he's mad," I say.

Mr. Laurens laughs through his nose and glances at his son, both eyebrows raised. "And you love her, Jack?"

He nods. "I do, Dad. I love her very much. Since we met, really. And...I've never been this happy in my entire life. She makes me happy and safe and whole and loved. I guess you can say she's my impulse control." A chuckle. John frowns. "I never loved Manning, Dad. I never had. And I'm sorry if I disappointed you but...she...Alexandrea...is singular, Dad. She's unlike anyone I've ever met. I've never met anyone as kind or trusting or supportive as her. Please, Dad, just give her a chance..."

"Alright," Mr. Laurens sighs, finally giving in. "Alright."

"Alright?" John repeats, eyes wide and a wide grin forming on his face. He laughs as he speaks. "Alright?"

"Alright?" I say, shocked.

Mr. Laurens hums and nods. "Yes. Alright. Just this once though."

Before either of us say anything, John grabs my cheeks, squishing them together and right in front of Mr. Laurens himself, John smacks his lips against mine. I grunt, hissing in a breath through my nose, totally surprised but I melt into the kiss, letting my arms go slack at my sides, my eyes fluttering close. When we pull apart, we turn to Mr. Laurens who has a small, tiny smile.

"Dad?" John says with a laugh.

"So, uh...when's the wedding?"

***

Later that night, John and I stay cuddled on his bed in his apartment. Bare and exposed, entangled in bedsheets. John hasn't stopped smiling since Mr. Laurens's approval of us. He's been unusually hyper ever since Mr. Laurens left the apartment but I don't mind. I feel quite hyper myself. I texted George and let him know I was staying the night at John's and that we had just finished up dinner. John lays on the left side of the bed, shirtless underneath the sheets and he twirls a loose lock of auburn hair around his finger absentmindedly, one hand propped against his head, his elbow digging into the pillow. I lay flat on my pillow, locking violet eyes with sky-blue ones that seem to sparkle against the moonlight shining over us. My hands are tucked underneath my freckled cheek and I smile wide at him.

"Thank you, Alexander, for tonight," John whispers, tucking the loose curl behind my ear and letting his finger trail across my jawline until he reaches my chin.

"Of course, Jack," I say. I lean up to press a kiss to his lips. I can't stop smiling. "Love you, Jackass."

"Love you too, Ginger," John replies with a roll of his eyes, leaning down to press another kiss.

The kiss starts slowly and passionately, longing as though it would be our last one on Earth. Then, John kisses harder, gripping my jaws in his hands while my fingers slide up towards his hairline and I intertwine my fingers through his blonde hair. He rolls me over so I'm now flat on my back, staring up at him lustfully, humming as I trace the outlines of his beautiful body.

John hums huskily as he leans down again and presses another hard kiss to my lips. I let him take full control, letting myself let go. John kisses the corner of my lips, my jaw, my neck, my shoulders and back up to my lips again. I reach up to pull his ponytail out, letting his blonde hair fall around him, framing his angular face handsomely. We break apart for a quick second, our foreheads touching, eyes opened half-way and lips parted, breathless.

"You should get one of those sailor suits from the Navy," I suggest with a sly smirk on my face. "You know? Like the white ones? Or perhaps an army one?"

"Really?" John laughs, surprised by my suggestion. I rest my hands on his shoulders as he leans down for another kiss.

I nod eagerly. "Really.”

"As you wish, my dear boy," John whispers, his breath warm as it tickles my skin, causing me to gasp a little. I let out giggle. "What's so funny?" John asks.

"Nothing," I say. "Just...your breath tickles. Is all..."

"My breath tickles?"

I nod. "Mhm."

John pecks my lips several times before pulling back slowly.

"You uh...you want to go for another round?" John wonders, wiggling his eyebrows as he climbs above me, a loopy grin on his face and his eyes shine with lust.

I grunt as I try to sit up against the mountain of pillows a little. "John. It's already ten. We have school tomorrow."

"Fine, if you insist, Hamilton," he says, flopping down onto the bed next to me.

A pause.

I settle back down against the pillows, watching him flip the lamp off and turn back on his side to face me. He smiles a little, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. I hum with content, my eyes fluttering as he snakes his fingers through my hair, occasionally pressing soft kisses to my temple. I snuggle up close to him, resting my hands on his chest, my head underneath his chin.

"Night, Ginger," John says, pressing a kiss to my temple.

"Night, Jackass."

And it's lights out.

***

I spot John down the hall at his locker, switching out his supplies for a different class subject. He appears lost in his task, not aware of my presence. I grin as I crouch down a little through the crowded hallways and the cluster of students, eyeing my prey through the crowd. I now stand behind John. I'm just a head shorter than he is. John appears to be switching out Biology for Calculus. While he's bent over, I grin and jump on his back, locking my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. John shrieks with surprise, stumbling backwards and desperately trying to keep hold onto his textbook while holding onto the back of my leg. But all in all, he couldn't help but laugh. I peck his cheek.

"Morning to you too," John laughs as I lower myself down onto the ground. I lean against the locker with my arms folded over my chest.

"So, uh...I never even bothered to ask but uh...when's your birthday, Jack?" I ask.

"My birthday?" he says.

"Mhm."

"Why do you want to know?" he asks.

"Because I'm your boyfriend now," I say sassily, putting my hands on my hips in a sassy way. "And as your boyfriend, I feel it's my priority to get you something special for your birthday, Jack. If it hasn't passed yet."

John huffs. "I won't tell you mine...if you won't tell me yours."

"Alright," I say. "January 11."

He grins. "October 28."

"October 28?! That's like...that's like..."

"Uh-huh."

I whack his arm with one of his spiral notebooks that fell on the floor when I attacked him. I slap it over and over again. Not playfully too.

"That's like three days from now! How...how...why didn't you fucking tell me, John?! I-I how am I supposed to get you a present in three days?!" I snap, slapping his arm one more time with the notebook before stuffing the notebook itself inside his locker for him.

"Birthdays aren't my priority right now, Alexander."

"It doesn't matter, John! You deserve something special! I mean...you're going to be nineteen!" A pause. My eyes widen. "Oh. God. You're going to be nineteen! Oh. God! Gilbert is going to freaking murder me!"

I start pacing behind him as he stuffs his locker with unnecessary supplies, tugging on my hair and occasionally chew on my fingers as I pace back and forth, back and forth.

"Alex," John says, once and sharp. He grips my shoulders so I can stop pacing. "Calm down. Relax. Let's not focus on age right now, okay? I don't want anything special or like that."

I open my mouth to protest but John cuts me off with his finger up in the air and gives me a challenged look.

"Nuh-uh. Don't, I'm serious, Alex. I don't want anything. Birthdays seem kind of pointless tome at this point." A pause. "Come on. We have class to get to."

I stay close to his locker, watching John merge with the cluster of students so all I see is a head with honey blonde hair pulled in his usual low, loose ponytail. I watch him make a left and start to form a plan. I grin, lost in thought now.

"Sup, Hamilton!" a voice says behind me.

I yelp with surprise, whip my head around with my fist up in the air, ready to give the intruder a swing. The intruder stands before me with Richard Kidder Meade and Tench Tilghman on either side of him. I lower my hand when I recognize the three of them standing before me, glancing at each other confusedly before back at me. I run a hand through my hair, puffing out a breath of relief.

"Would you all stop sneaking up on me?! Like...what the hell, guys?! You trying to give me a heart attack?!" I say, now standing in between Tilghman and Tallmadge. Meade on the right side of Tallmadge. We start walking towards our classes.

"Sorry, Ham," Tallmadge snickers, patting my shoulder. He frowns. "You alright?"

"Mhm. I'm fine," I say. "Just uh...just wondering what to get for John's birthday. That's in...three days."

"Get him some art supplies," Meade pips up. "He'd love that."

I stop suddenly. "Art supplies?"

"Oh, yeah," Tilghman says, slinging his arm across my shoulder. "Laurens is quite the artist."

"He didn't tell me he was an artist..." I mumble.

"Oh, but he is."

"His drawings are incredible," Meade comments. "Beautiful. Here."

Meade fumbles for his phone, quickly unlocks it, and hands it to me. I skid to a stop again, shocked at the beautiful, intricate detail in John's drawing of...of... My heart flutters, doing summersaults in my chest. I let out a breath of shock at the realism in his drawing of...of me. I'm hunched over my desk in the drawing, my cheek propped against my palm as I'm apparently reading through the textbook on the desk in the drawing, deep in concentration, almost looks like I'm bored. The drawing is only pencil, graphite I think, though the only thing that he used actual colored pencil for are my eyes. A bright purple mixed with a darker shade of blue. It's beautiful.

"Wow..." I breathe, handing Meade back his phone. "How...how'd he mange to do that in a short amount of time?"

Tallmadge shrugs. "We don't know, Ham. Our dear Laurens has his ways."

I grin and I can feel my eyes twinkle. I know exactly what to get him.

Chapter Text

I SIT AT the cafeteria when lunch has arrived, scrolling through my phone, trying to figure out what art supplies I should get for John's birthday. I chew on the on the inside of my cheek, my hand rested against my cheek as I scroll, scroll, scroll. I can see the Schuyler Sisters sitting across from me. Peggy chatting on her phone loudly, probably to her boyfriend Stephen. Angelica sits across from me, scrolling through her own phone lazily probably through one of her social media apps like Tumblr or Instagram while munching on her cheese stick. Eliza sits next to Angelica, chatting friendly and sweetly with Maria who now sits in our group.

"So, Alex," Angelica starts, clicking her phone off and arching an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly against the table and grins. I glance up from my phone, arching an eyebrow. "How's uh...how're you and John doing?" She smirks.

"Oh, hang on, Steve! I gotta go! I'll call you later! Angie's talking about Alex and his new relationship with his new boyfriend! Bye! Love you too!" Peggy says in a sing-song like voice.

Peggy clicks her phone off and mirrors Angelica's position, leaning against the table with a teasing smirk on her face, her eyes wide as she rests her hands on top of each other. Maria and Eliza are still chatting with one another. I feel a warm blush creeping along my cheeks, probably red as my hair by now. I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head with a roll of my eyes.

"So. Tell us. How'd it go?! How'd it go?! How'd it go?!" Peggy gasps eagerly.

I let out another laugh, clicking my own phone off and setting it to the side. I lean against the table, my chest pressing against the edge. I cross my ankles over each other underneath the table and grin ear to ear.

"It went quite well, actually. Mr. Laurens approves us basically now. Just with me being Alexandrea, though. He doesn't know about Alexander, which is me," I say. "Just a few more days of this then this fake relationship around his father will end and we can go back to normal."

"Hmm..." Angelica says, munching on a carrot now. "So, uh...you're still coming to homecoming, right?"

"H-Homecoming?" I repeat, blinking my eyes. Why isn't anyone telling me these things?

"Yeah. It's an annual school dance to welcome back former students," Eliza explains. "It's super fun."

"O-Oh, um...yeah. Sure! I'll go! When is it?" I say quickly, still flustered for some reason.

Maria grins as she leans against the table. "This weekend."

I nearly choke on my water, spluttering here and there while also blinking my eyes. "W-What?! T-This weekend?!"

"Yeah," Meade says next to me suddenly. I jolt in my seat at his sudden presence as he sets his tray down next to me at the table. "John's going." He winks at me. "We all are It's a tradition."

"I..." I begin but Tilghman cuts me off as he sits on the other side of me.

"They always play N'Sync when we're there," Tilghman says. "That was our jam in the day."

"Yeah," Meade laughs. "'Bye, Bye, Bye'."

"You still remember the choreo Kidder?" Tilghman asks, leaning against the table to look at his friend with arched eyebrows and a teasing grin on his face. Meade shrugs. "Eh. A little. We haven't done the full dance to that song in a long time."

"Woah, woah, woah!" I say, shaking my head as I gesture for them to stop. "Slow down! What? Why isn't anyone telling me these things? First, I have to worry about being John's girlfriend around Mr. Laurens—which, by the way, is a lot harder than you think—now I have to worry about what to get for John's birthday that's in three days, now I have to worry about homecoming?! Not to mention school, tests, essays, and yeah."

"Uh...yeah," Tilghman says with a nod as he munches on his garlic bread.

"Oh, speaking of being as John's girlfriend, how's it going?" Meade asks kindly.

I smile a little. "It's um...it's a little difficult with fighting the urge to tell Mr. Laurens the truth about John and I—the fact that I'm not a woman but acting and dressed as one—but other than that...it's um...it's been pretty good actually."

I couldn't stop smiling, thinking about John next to me, his strong arms wrapped around me, his lips on mine, his beautiful diamond blue eyes...

"Someone's smitten," Meade chuckles, shaking his head as he nudges his elbow against my ribs, snapping me back into reality.

I feel a warm blush creep over my cheeks as I glance at him over my shoulder. "What?"

"You're in love, Hamster~" Tilghman teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Well, um..."

"Hey, babe," John's voice suddenly says as he pecks my freckled cheek. He slides in next to me between Tilghman and I.

I press my lips together firmly, feeling warm all over, as I grow stiff. John slides his arm around my shoulders, pulling my closer to him. I swallow as I glance up at Meade and Tilghman, bracing myself for their reaction. It's silent around the table for a moment. Tilghman and Meade's eyes are wide and their jaws slack. I couldn't help but snort at their reaction, pressing the heel of my palm to my lips in hopes it would stifle the laughs. Peggy grins, Angelica's expression is stoned-face, not exactly scolding but yet not grinning either. Just blank as she glares at John. Eliza just smiles wide and Maria grins as well. John glances around the table confusedly, frowning at their expressions. I couldn't help but continue snickering against my palm.

"You and Alex?!" Meade gasps.

"Yeah. What about us?" John says with a shrug. I instinctively rest my head on his shoulder as he rubs my shoulder up and down.

"Y-You're...you're...you're together?! Like...actually...together, together now? Now?!" Tilghman says, blinking his eyes rapidly and continually doing a double-take over and over again, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that John and I are in an actual relationship now and not pretending.

"Yeah, I just told you that, Tench," I say. I suddenly give them a warning glare. "Got a problem with that?"

"No, no," Meade says, shaking his head and putting both his hands up. "Just surprised is all."

Tilghman smiles and pats his friend's shoulder. "We're proud of you, man. Congrats."

"Thanks, Tench," John says.

"So, Laurens, you coming to homecoming?" Meade asks.

"Aw, shit," John grumbles. "Forgot about that but of course I am! You know they're gonna play 'Bye, Bye, Bye' for us. They know that's our song."

"You still remember the choreo, Jackie-boy?" Tilghman says in a sing-song like voice.

"Of course, I do!" John says, looking at Tilghman as if he's stupid. "What kind of question is that? We've been doing it since sophomore year, Tench."

"Boys," Eliza mutters, her arms over her chest and she rolls her eyes.

"I know right," I say with a chuckle, shaking my head as I watch the three boys surrounding us conversate and laugh and joke.

I watch John next to me, his arm still wrapped around me as he laughs, as he smiles at his friends, as he jokes with them and occasionally steal kisses from me when I'm not even paying attention. I couldn't help but smile or giggle in return. There's just something about John Laurens. His smile, his laugh, his beautiful blue eyes that just makes me feel so damn helpless.

***

"So, have you figured out what to get for John for his birthday yet, Alex?" Peggy says, clutching her books to her chest as we walk down the halls.

"Ugh. No," I groan. "I want to get him something special and something he loves but nothing too fancy or expensive, you know? Tench suggested art supplies cause apparently, John's an artist."

"He is?" Angelica gasps. "I didn't think Laurens would be the artist type. He's too...manly for that. He'd be more like the military type guy."

I let out a "HA!" sound before clearing my throat awkwardly. "Ah, well. You're right about that, Ange. But still."

"Get him some colored pencils," Eliza suggests with a shrug. "I heard Prismacolor or Castle Arts are a pretty good brand. Or some paints."

"Maybe..." I mumble, staring down at my feet, my eyes narrowed, brows furrowed together with thought. "Should I take him out for dinner? For his birthday? Something nice but not too fancy?"

"If he wants, Alex. It's his day," Peggy says, patting my shoulder.

"I know, I know," I say. "It's just...I want to make it special for him—"

We stop suddenly when I see John Laurens standing at the end of the hall, smirking. My eyes widen at the beautiful sight before me, jaw slacking as we skid to a stop all of a sudden. John stands in the hallway wearing an army green service uniform: a dark olive drab four-pocket coat with a black belt around the waist, a khaki shirt underneath along with a black tie and drab, olive trousers and black leather oxfords wearing a cap with the army symbol imprinted in gold in the middle along with white, gloved hands. His blonde hair still in his usual, low, loose ponytail, letting a few hairs fall in front of his ears. He smirks when he sees our reaction. He starts walking towards us slowly at first and then quickens his pace when he feels the students gawking at him with confusion and shock and surprise written all over their faces as they linger by their lockers. I struggle to come up with something, anything. For once, I'm actually speechless.

John now stands directly in front of me, a head taller per usual. His grin widens into a smile, the corners of his lips stretching from ear to ear and his eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for me to say something. He tilts his head a little to one shoulder, laughing through his nose.

"Is this what you were talking about Hamilton?" John asks.

My shocked expression soon turns into a sly grin as I approach him slowly, not caring in the slightest if the whole school sees. I rest my hands flat on his chest, our chests nearly touching when I finally approached him. I look up and laugh, still in total awe at how John manages to do these things. How does he do it?

"Well, hello there, soldier~" I laugh, blinking my eyes rapidly to make sure I'm not dreaming. John grins with his lips pressed together. He takes off his black hat and grasps both of my arms, pulling me closer and kisses me. A few minutes later, he finally pulls away so we can catch our breath.

"How do you manage to do this to me?" I whisper.

John shrugs. "You said you wanted me to be in one of those sailor outfits. So, here you go, Alex. Merry Christmas!"

"It's perfect!" I say, giving him another quick kiss. I pat his cheek affectionately. "You really are a military man, aren't you, Laurens?"

He scoffs mixed with a short laugh. "It runs in the family."

John leans down and presses another kiss to my lips.

"Um...Jack?" I say.

"Yeah, Alex?"

"How do you feel about going out for dinner on the 28th?" I suggest, arching an eyebrow. "For your birthday dinner. It can be just us or if you want you can bring the guys too...it's your birthday, John."

John smiles sweetly and snickers. "Are you trying to ask me out on a date, Hamilton?"

I feel my cheeks grow warm as I bite my lower lip at the sudden question. I shake my head. "Um...no, no. I was just um...well...if you want it to be a date, we can but um...I was just trying to do something special for your birthday, Jack."

A pause.

"As a loyal and supportive boyfriend should," I add.

"Hmm...you're adorable when you're flustered, you know that?" John says.

"Oh hush."

***

I stand in front of the door to history class, arms folded over as I lean against the wooden door, eyeing the students inside, searching for Jefferson. I purse my lips together when I see him in his desk, his feet crossed over and propped up on top of his textbooks with his arm resting behind his head as he scrolls through his phone. He has a sly grin as his hazel brown eyes constantly flicker over towards me. I scowl, feeling my eye twitch slightly. I glance at the clock above the door. I still have about five minutes before the bell rings. I take a deep breath before slowly opening the door and sliding on inside.

"Ah, Mr. Hamilton!" says Mr. Knox as I enter. "Glad you are able to join us today."

I smile genuinely at him followed by a curt nod. "Afternoon, Mr. Knox, sir."

I keep my head down as I make my way towards my desk which is in front of Jefferson's. I take several deep breaths, trying not to make eye contact with him, though I can feel his evil stare pinning me as I sit down, sliding off my bookbag as I pull out my history textbooks and notebooks and all the other supplies I'll need for class. In my peripheral, I can see Jefferson lower his feet from his desk once the bell rings—indicating class has started. I can see him leaning forward with that stupid, snarky grin on his face. I try to keep a calm and collected composure when I see him leaning forward even slighter. I try to focus on Mr. Knox and his lecture about our government and the difference between a republican and a democrat and whatnot.

While the students conversate and participate in the discussion, answer questions here and there, their voices being drowned out as I'm sucked into my work, deep in concentration, hunched over and my pen scratching rapidly across my notebook, I suddenly feel a presence behind me though I know who it is. I don't have to look up to figure out who's behind me. I can feel his cold breath against my skin and his snake-like grin slowly turning upwards.

"You're such a mystery, you know that, Hamilton?" Jefferson whispers into my ear. I shiver, swallowing thickly and try to relax, try not to fidget or give away any fear. I have to be the little lion. I don't respond. I stay productive, try to focus on my work and my work only.

"I wonder where you're from," Jefferson continues. "You don't sound a Yorker. Not like Tallboy over there. Hm... I don't know what it is Laurens sees in you—"

"What do you want?" I snap suddenly, still focusing on my work. He grins. I can feel him grin behind me as he leans back a little in his seat.

"Ah. So, he speaks." A pause. "It just came to me, Hamilton, that you're unusually quiet. Do you have something to hide?"

"I stay quiet because it's none of your business, Jefferson," I hiss through clenched teeth, clenching my pen tightly in my fists. "Now if you could leave me be in peace so I can actually concentrate on my work and pass this class, that would be most appreciative."

Jefferson just laughs quietly, laughing through his nose, clicking his teeth and shaking his head with disappointment. He sighs disappointingly and leans back in his seat, resting his hands on his chest.

"Oh, Hamilton," Jefferson whistles. "Such a pity. I feel sorry for Washington for having the burden to take you in. A stranger in the streets after having landed in Manhattan."

I stop writing momentarily, staring at the open page in front of me with furrowed brows. I frown, feeling myself growing tense as anxiety squeezes my chest, as my mind tries to wrap around the fact that Jefferson knew that. I swallow as I slowly turn my head over my shoulder to glare at him.

"How do you know that?" I whisper, careful not to disturb any of the other students. Jefferson shrugs.

"Rumors only grow, Hamilton."

I eye him suspiciously for a few seconds before finally returning back towards my notebook and continue jotting notes.

"A hurricane, right?" Jefferson whispers so close behind me it's like he's actually behind me and not leaning across his desk. I stop, eyes wide and face pale, mouth drawn. I swallow. "That's why you're afraid of storms, isn't it, Hamilton?"

"How...how do you know that?" I whisper shakily, clutching my pen tighter in my fists.

I notice my hands are starting to shake a little as the memory of the horrifying storm fills my mind—about the flood, about the dark sky, the rain, the hail, the heavy gusts that ate everything up; everything I knew and loved growing up. That destroyed my home. That killed my brother.

"Rumors only grow."

Is all he says.

Chapter Text

OCTOBER 28 COMES before I even know it. I wake up at the crack of dawn, to be more precise around five o’clock in the morning when it’s still dark out and still peaceful and still and quiet. My alarm on my phone goes off loudly, starling me awake. I wake with a gasp as I shoot upright in my bed, frantically searching for my phone with wide eyes. I find it and turn off the alarm, groaning and pressing a hand to my temple, massaging it in small circles with my palm in hopes it would help ease this headache I now have. Unfortunately, it doesn’t.

I flip the bedsheets off and swing my legs off the edge of the bed, only then to turn around to make it immediately. Slouching and moping, I squint when I walk towards the bathroom, flipping the light switch on. I sneak a glance at my reflection. I look terrible. My red auburn hair all tangled up and unkept, out of place and fallen loose around my face, framing out my beautiful features. My eyes are half-opened and squinting against the sudden bright light and I notice small dark circles underneath them. Another long night of working. Bed marks appear on my freckled cheeks from where I slept on the pillow. I’m slouching when I enter the bathroom, looking half-dead.

I let out a yawn, though I tried to stifle it with the back of my hand which doesn’t work as well. I did my hygiene routine and after that head straight back to my bedroom to get myself ready. It’s John’s birthday today, so I woke up early in hopes I could quickly make him a surprise birthday cake though I’m starting to regret my decision and wishing I could just go back to sleep. Still slouching and looking like a zombie, I swing open my closet door and rummage through the closet, trying to figure out which outfit to wear. I don’t think I’m meeting up with Mr. Laurens today so I don’t have to worry about being Alexandrea tonight which is a plus. Through a huge, long yawn, I toss a long-sleeved black turtleneck onto my bed along with a dark emerald green leather jacket with blue ripped jeans and white Chuck Taylors. I quickly change and gather my things up for school, stuffing them into my bookbag. I unplug my phone from its charger and plug in my headphones, pulling up Spotify and tucking my phone into my jean pocket before heading down the stairs to prep the cake.

Meade told me that John loves chocolate so I’ll make him a simple chocolate rectangular cake. I grab the mixing bowl, a couple of eggs, the milk, several measuring supplies and the cookbook and a rectangular pan. I stand before them, hands on my hips. Let’s hope I don’t burn the house down.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve started cooking the cake for John. I hum along to the songs that plays, swaying my hips as I dance around the kitchen, totally lost in a dreamworld. I do a spin at one point as the song plays, holding the mixing bowl in one hand as I stir up the cake batter with a whisk before pouring it into the rectangular pan. I smooth out the layer of cake batter with a butter knife, double checking the directions to make sure I didn’t miss anything and open the oven. The oven is already preheated so I don’t have to worry about that as I slide the pan inside, closing the oven lid and taking off my oven mitts and dusting my hands. I place my hands on my hips, still humming along to the songs as I scan the kitchen that’s now a mess. At least, I didn’t manage to burn the house down.

“Alexander?” a voice says from behind me or nearby me, I couldn’t tell because it was slightly muffled due to my earbuds blocking out any external noise but I can still hear him faintly. He sounds like he’s just woken up too, his voice thick and heavy with sleep.

I don’t pay attention, just humming along and occasionally making a dance move as I finish up cleaning and straightening the kitchen and head towards the living room to wrap up John’s birthday present. I decided to go with a blue leather-bound sketch book (call me cliché, but I chose that color so it would match his eyes) that I found at the store the other day with his initials with cursive handwriting: J. L. and on the inside of the sketch book reads: My dear Jack, I love you! Happy birthday, Jackie! ~Your favorite little lion, Alex

“Alexander!” the voice snaps suddenly, making me nearly drop the book in my hands.

I yank an earbud out from my ear and spin around on my heels with wide eyes, frantically searching for the intruder. I swallow when I see George standing in the entranceway, giving me a confused yet scolding look as he folds his arms over his chest, shaking his head. I chew on my bottom lip, pausing the music and yanking both earbuds out.

“Oh…um…hi, Dad,” I say awkwardly.

“Alexander, what on Earth are you doing, son?” George says, entering the kitchen and looking as if he saw a ghost or if I actually did burn down the house.

“Oh, um…today’s John’s birthday so I’d figured I’d make him something special,” I explain. “And I woke up early this morning as you can tell and um…made him a cake that’s in the oven and now I’m wrapping up his birthday present.”

George laughs shakily as he shakes his head and heaves a long, heavy sigh through his nose.

“At six o’clock in the morning?” George says, glancing at me over his shoulder as he fixes himself a coffee. “Couldn’t you at least make the cake in the evening?”

I shake my head. “Mhm. John and I are going out tonight so I wouldn’t have time to do it before we go.”

George freezes suddenly, shoulders tensed. “Out?”

“Yeah,” I say, spreading out the wrapping paper before me on the table and placing the book in the middle. “John and I are going out for dinner tonight around six for his birthday dinner.”

“Oh,” George says. “Oh.”

I frown, glancing up at him. “What? What is it, Dad?”

George shakes his head as he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he turns around to fully face me while his coffee is brewing. He leans against the counter, locking eyes with mine and a small smile appears on his face.

“Nothing, nothing,” he says. “It’s just…” He blinks his eyes fast. “It’s just…you’re all grown up, Alex. You’re…all…it's kind of hard to believe that my son has a boyfriend…” He lets out a shuddering breath. “God, a b-boyfriend…!”

I let out a laugh. “Dad…” I frown. “Dad, are you crying?”

“N-No. No, I’m not. My eyes are just sweating, it’s hot in here.”

I walk towards him and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Dad, calm down. I’ll be fine. I’m still your little boy, adopted or not, I’m still your boy. I will always be your son, Dad, no matter how old I get or what I do or who I fall in love with or when I get married—”

George scoffs with a look of disbelief on his face, his eyes still blinking. “God, marriage!"

"It's going to be okay, Dad," I assure him. “John will protect me. You know he will.”

“I know. I know,” George whispers. “I know he will, Alexander. It’s just…I don’t want you to get hurt is all.”

“I understand, Dad,” I chuckle, embracing him tightly. “I know.”

George returns the hug and presses a soft kiss to my forehead before releasing me and letting me continue my task.

A few minutes later, I’ve completed wrapping the present and the cake is done. All that needs is the icing on the cake. I quickly did the icing, put the cake in a large tublewear container and put the lid on top with John’s gift on top of the lid. I check the time on the stove. 7:15 A.M. on the dot. I hear a honk at the driveway, indicating the Sister’s are here to pick me up and let me go with them to school. I press a kiss to Martha’s cheek as she scrambles up some eggs in the pan before grabbing the container and the present and rushing out the door. I jog down the front porch steps carefully and Peggy reaches across the backseat to push the door open for me. I slide in, thanking her and buckle myself up as Angelica starts to pull out of the driveway. Peggy grins, impressed.

“Wow,” Peggy says. “I didn’t know you can cook, Alex.”

I shrug. “Learned from the best.”

“That’s John’s birthday cake?” Eliza asks, poking her head around her head seat and nodding, gesturing towards the cake that’s in the middle between Peggy and I.

“Yep and he better appreciate it because I didn’t wake up at five o’clock in the morning for nothing,” I say.

“What’d you get him for his birthday present?” Angelica asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, just a simple leather-bound sketchbook with his initials on the front,” I say with a shrug.

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Eliza coos.

I nod. “Heh. Well, it was the only I can think of.” A pause. “And that I had the money for.”

“It’s the thought that counts, Alex,” Peggy chirps, patting my shoulder.

I glance at the gift and the cake next to me, a small smile on my face.

It’s the thought that counts. ***

John stands by my locker, leaning against it with his arms folded over each other and his ankles crossed. He grins when he sees me approach him and straightens up. He frowns though, when he sees me carrying the container with the wrapped present on top. I couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. I let out a giggle when I reach him. Still holding the container, I stand on my toes to catch a kiss to his lips. He pecks a few more kisses before I lower myself down.

“Happy birthday, darling,” I whisper into his ear, pecking his cheek. It’s smooth. He must have shaved again today.

John smirks, his eyebrows upward with surprise and an impressive look on his face.

“Alex, what?” he starts, clearly flustered and shocked. His eyes are wide a little and his face is a little bit red as I hand him the container with his cake and gift.

“It’s your birthday, Jack!” I say. I can’t stop smiling. I’m practically bouncing on my feet now.

John sighs. “Alex, I told you, I didn’t want—”

I put my finger to his lips. “Nuh-uh. Don’t give me that crap, Laurens. I’m your boyfriend and it’s your birthday, let me make you something special—you deserve something special, Jack. I didn’t wake up at five o’clock in the bloody morning for nothing!”

A pause. I see the Schuyler Sisters approaching us with Maria by them and Tilghman, Meade, Warren, and Hale following close behind them. Shortly, the all surround us, suddenly eager to see what I got for John.

“Oh, yeah,” Warren says, with an eyebrow raised, breaking the silence. “Almost forgot. Happy birthday, Laurens.”

“Thanks, Alan,” John says, his eyes glued onto the present. John looks back up at all of us. “But really, guys—”

“Nah-uh, John,” I say sassily, putting a hand on my hip while giving him a scolding look and jabbing a finger at him. “Nah-uh.”

John sighs. “Alright, alright. Fine. Thank you, Alex. This is…very thoughtful of you.”

“Did it because I love you,” I whisper into his ear, before pecking a kiss to his lips. The others coo and aw at us, causing both John and I blush a deep shade of red, almost as red as my hair, horrendously.

“Mhm, love you too, Ginger,” John mumbles, pecking a kiss to my lips before handing the cake to Hale so he could unwrap his present.

“Love you more, Jackass,” I say with a giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. I whisper into his ear while standing on my toes, “Happy birthday, Jack, my love.”

John grins cautiously, glancing at me before turning his attention back at the present in his hands. He frowns, furrowing his brows together as he tilts it over and over, trying to figure out what it is.

“Is it a book?” John asks randomly. “It looks and feels like a book.”

“You’ll just have to open it,” I say with a shrug. “And find out for yourself.”

John eyes me skeptically for a moment before slowly tearing off the seal of the package with his finger. It rips off smoothly and he starts to tear the rest of the paper off and his eyes go wide and his whole body seems to melt. I stifle a laugh as he glances between me and the sketchbook in hands. He stares at his initials and lets his finger graze over them, letting out a breathless “Oh” as he traces his initials.

“Open it,” I say.

He frowns, but nonetheless flips the book open and reads the message I have written in there. He smiles wide, smiles wider than I have ever seen him smile before. He closes the book and embraces me tightly, before smacking his lips against mine as a thank you.

“Oh, Alex!” John gasps, pressing his lips against mine again. “Thank you so much! You really didn’t have to do this! This is…this is so beautiful!” He flips the book around in his hands again, flipping through the blank pages and rereads the message I have written.

“Happy birthday, love,” I say, resting my chin on his shoulder from behind him.

John suddenly frowns and glances at me over his shoulder. I take a step back a little. “Wait…how’d you know I was an artist?”

Tilghman suddenly becomes nervous and takes a few, large several steps backwards before John even notices and in case he needs an escape, which he might does. Tilghman’s eyes widen, his face pale and his lips pressed together in a firm line. His arms stiff at his sides and he swallows, fidgeting restlessly in his spot as he chews on the corner of his lip.

“Um…” Tilghman says shakily. He raises his hand and John turns around, confused. John arches an eyebrow, a sign for him to continue. “I um…I may have told him you were…?”

“What?!” John shrieks. “Tench!”

“I’m sorry, John, okay?! Alex was trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday and I just…it just came out! I suggested him art supplies cause you love art…”

John’s face grows incredibly red as Tilghman jabs his thumb over at Meade, “Kidder showed Alex one of your drawings of him!”

John whips his head over to his friend. I step back and lean against the locker as the Sisters move closer to me as we watch from afar with amused looks on our faces.

“You what?!” John shouts, whipping his head towards Meade now. Meade’s face flushes a bright shade of pink as he struggles to come up with a protest, stumbling over words and opening then clamping his mouth then opening it again. John hands the sketchbook to me which I take. “Richard Kidder Meade!”

“You know it’s bad juju when John uses our full name,” Tilghman whispers.

“You think we should we run?” Meade whispers back, slowly stepping back as John slowly approaches them, his eye twitching.

“Yeah,” Tilghman agrees.

Before John could do anything, the two teenage boys spin around on their heels, their shoes squeaking against the tiled floor and the race down the halls, pushing through the sea of students as their bookbags hits the students’ sides, mumbling quick apologies as John races after them.

I shake my head, huffing out a breath through my nose. “Oh, boys.”
***

I sit in gym, squished between Eliza and John with my arms resting on my thighs, fingers interlaced with each other, John’s knee knocked against mine. Coach Adams paces back and forth in front of the benches, eyeing us as he ponders what game to do today for class.

“I really hope it’s not dodgeball again,” Peggy mutters from beside John.

I scoff mixed with a laugh, remembering the first time I played dodgeball when I first arrived at King’s. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Alright, cupcakes!” Coach Adams bellows in gruff voice, clapping his hands together to get all our attention and all conversations stops, all students sit up a little straighter. Myself included. “Today’s game: Capture the flag!”

“Ugh, I hate capture the flag,” Peggy moans.

“Oh, grow up, Pegs,” Maria says next to her, sliding a comforting arm around her friend’s shoulders. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Yeah it is,” Peggy says. “I’m dying inside.”

Eliza just rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“Now, we’re going to add a little twist to the original version,” Coach Adams says. He rummages through the staff closet and pulls out paintball gun. My eyes widen. Are they even allowed to have those? Apparently so. “Instead of using water balloons or something stupid like that, we’re going to be using…paintballs!”

Behind me, I hear the Big Three whoop and holler, apparently agreeing to this idea. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at them as I shudder.

“In case you do not know how to play capture the flag,” Coach Adams says. “It’s somewhat simple. We will establish two bases outside on the opposing ends of the field and we will each position the flag, which is this right here—” Coach Adams pulls out a white handkerchief from his back pocket and waves it in the air for all to see before putting it back in his pocket again. “You will divide your group into two teams and position each team at a base. Before we begin the game, we will also establish a time limit for the game depending on how many players there are on each team. The victor wins by eliminating all players on the opposing team or capturing the opposing team’s flag and returning it to their own base.

“The rules are somewhat simple: When both teams are ready, someone—me—will shout ‘Game on!’ The goal of each team is, obviously, to capture the opposing flag without getting hit. A player is out and must leave the field if a paintball breaks on him or her or if he or she calls themselves out. If a player, however, is hit while carrying the flag, he or she must immediately drop it. A team may not move their own flag unless an opposing player has first moved theirs and is eliminated, then the team may move their flag to the starting position they desired. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” the student’s chorus.

“Alright,” Coach Adams says, walking up towards us. I swallow nervously and sit up taller, straighter, when he stands in front of me. He grins when he hands me the paintball gun.
“Hamilton, you are a team captain.”

I let out a shaky breath as I shakily reach for the paintball gun. It’s somewhat heavier than I thought it would be as I stand up from the bench and walk out towards the center of the gym. There’s probably paintballs already loaded in this one. I watch Coach Adams head back towards the staff closet, handing out each student a paintball gun one by one. He reaches…ugh…Jefferson and hands him his. Jefferson grins and makes a little snarky “Heh-heh” laugh as he jogs down between the benches, standing a few feet away from me. Grinning. I glance at him in my peripheral, trying to keep myself cool and calm and I swallow thickly.

We call out our members, one by one. I chose: John, of course, Eliza, Angelica and Peggy along with Seabury and a boy named Abraham and Tilghman and Meade and Tallmadge, along with a girl named Mary while Jefferson picked Lee and Madison along with a guy named Robert and Burr and Hale and Warren, along girl named Anna.

We reach outside onto an open field behind the school, all lined up, ready for an order. I glance at John who stands next to me, his paintball gun across his chest. He glances back and winks, a small smirk on his face. I swallow nervously and wink back before turning towards the Coach.

“Alright!” the Coach bellows. He holds out a stop watch, grimacing against the bright afternoon sunlight. “You have exactly a half hour to capture the flag!”

He steps aside. I narrow my eyes at Jefferson, gathering all my anger and frustration towards him as I aim my paintball gun directly at him, squinting through eyepiece on top, my index finger just above the trigger, a scowl on my face as I shift my body into a running stance. John does the same, but aims his at Lee. Jefferson’s team does the same as we did getting ready into position.

“Game on!”

Chapter Text

MY HEART STOPS beating instantly. I stare at Mr. Laurens before us with wide, fearful violet eyes, my mouth parted half-way as my surprised and shocked gasp comes to a sudden stop. I grip John’s hand tighter than I already have been. I don’t take my eyes off of Mr. Laurens’s.

No one moves a muscle.

No one says a word.

John grips my hand and schools his fearful features. He swallows thickly, setting his jaw and leveling his gaze with Mr. Laurens before us. He squares his shoulders and scowls. I glance back and forth between Mr. Laurens and John, holding my breath, bracing for Mr. Laurens’s outbursts and insults.

“John,” Mr. Laurens says flatly after about fifteen minutes of tense silence between the three of us, his expression blank.

John swallows nervously and lets out a nervous breath, never taking his eyes off of his father. He pinches his lips together.

“Father,” John says quietly, yet flatly at the same time. No emotion in his voice betrays him.

“Care to explain who the hell this is?” Mr. Laurens growls, nodding his head towards me. I swallow. “He looks oddly like Alexandrea. Wouldn’t you agree?” John’s blue eyes flicker towards me but his face remains straight towards Mr. Laurens.

“Yes,” John whispers shakily. He swallows again. “He does.”

“Mind telling me who the hell this is and why you were kissing him? In public?” Mr. Laurens hisses.

John bites his lip and glances back and forth between Mr. Laurens and I, hesitating.

“Um…Dad…this is um…this is…this is…”

“Just tell me, John, we don’t have all day,” Mr. Laurens snaps.

“This is Alexander,” John whispers. “And he’s…he’s…”

“He’s what?”

John glances at me hesitantly. I close my eyes and nod once before slowly reopening them. John sighs defeatedly as he turns to glance at his father.

“My boyfriend,” John squeaks. “He’s…he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s dead silent around the booth. I can tell Mr. Laurens is seething. He scowls, his nose scrunching up and his eyes narrowing down at the both of us, pinning us to our spots. Neither of us move. I notice, though, that Mr. Laurens’s eye twitches slightly and his fingers twitch as well by his sides.

“Boyfriend?!” Mr. Laurens shrieks, causing some customers to stop their conversations and turn to us. I wince as Mr. Laurens bangs his fist against the edge of the table. “Boyfriend?!”

“Are you deaf? Do I need to repeat it again?” John says,

Mr. Laurens growls behind closed lips. “You ungrateful boy! Such a disgrace you are!”

John closes his eyes and I grip his hand tighter than before.

A pause. And then—
“You lied to me,” Mr. Laurens whispers scarily. I flinch. “You lied to your own father.” A pause. “You lied to ME!”

John doesn’t say anything, nor do I.

“You—” Mr. Laurens jabs his finger at me. “Get. Out.”

John’s bright blue eyes widen. “What?!”

“Get out!” Mr. Laurens snaps, ignoring his son. “I don’t want you near my son ever again do you hear me?!”

“Dad, please—”

“You! You son of a whore!” Mr. Laurens barks, his eyes narrowing at me. I whimper, trying not to grimace. “Get out! Whatever sinful thing you and my son have is over.” He whips his head over towards John who actually shrinks back. “You. You will marry Manning whether you like it or not.”

“No,” John says. It’s flat. He levels his stare with Mr. Laurens, who arches an eyebrow challengingly at him.

“No?” Mr. Laurens repeats.

“I won’t marry her, Henry,” John hisses. “I love him, Henry. I love Alexander more than anything in my life. He has been nothing but kind to me. He cares for me not only as a friend but also as boyfriend. He supports me and looks after me. Why can’t you just accept the fact that I’m never going to change? Why can’t you can’t you just accept me who I am? Why can’t you just accept the fact that Mom is dead—”

“ENOUGH!” Mr. Laurens booms, slamming his fist on the table and causing the whole restaurant go silent. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us. Mr. Laurens breathes in and out sharply through his nose and leans forward so his nose is almost touching John’s. “This careless attitude of yours is what got your brother killed!”

Silence.

John narrows his eyes at his father and leans close. Faintly, just faintly, I can hear him hiss sharply, “I hope you burn in hell.”

Before anyone could say anything, John shoots up from his seat and brushes past Mr. Laurens’s shoulder and out the front door, the bell chiming in the distance. I let out a sharp, ragged breath I didn’t realize I was holding and quickly take a glance at Mr. Laurens before shooting up from my own seat and racing after John out of the restaurant.

I push the front door open, the bell chiming after me as the door flutters shut behind me. I wrap my thin arms around myself, frantically searching for John. I come to a stop when I see him on a bench in front of the restaurant, hunched over, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Sobbing.

My heart aches. I’ve never seen John cry before. I find myself moving towards him and I sit myself down on the bench next to him. How did tonight end up the way it did? Tonight was supposed to be a special night! Just the two of us, having a lovely romantic dinner together and going home to celebrate his birthday.

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer to me so his head now rests on my shoulder instead of his hands. His arms wrap around my waist and the small of my back, holding onto me as if this was his last day on Earth. I just listen to his sobs. I don’t say anything, I don’t mention anything or anyone. I just sit there on the bench with him, my arms around him and his strong arms around me, his face buried into my shoulder as he sobs, as he tries to explain himself. I shush him, soothing him as best I can and just…just being there for him.

I press a kiss to his temple, telling him he has nothing to apologize for, assuring him that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have known Mr. Laurens was going to be there, that I couldn’t have known that he would be there, telling John that I love him.

That I love him.

After a while, John manages to calm himself down and he lifts his head off of my shoulder. He sniffs and wipes his cheeks with the heel of his palm. I have a hand on his shoulder while my other hand pushes back a few strands of honey-blonde hair from his face and behind his ear. He locks his watery-blue eyes with mine and smiles sheepishly, almost embarrassingly.

“S-Sorry, you had to see that, Alex,” John whispers, staring back down at his lap. He fiddles with his fingers.

“Shh, don’t apologize, John,” I assure him softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. I frown, tilting my head to one shoulder. “I know this is a stupid question, but um…are you alright?”

“Now that you’re here, most certainly,” he says. He frowns then. “Are you alright, Alex?”

I swallow but nod, giving him a reassuring smile nonetheless. “Mhm. I’m fine, Jack.” A pause. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I…I ruined—”

“Don’t,” John says. “Don’t say that, Alexander. You didn’t ruin it. You couldn’t have known he was there. Come on. Let’s head over to my place.” He winks, causing my cheeks to grow warm. “Eh?”

“I love you, Jack,” I say before pressing my lips to his. I tug on his collar, pulling him down a bit more and he kisses me harder, cupping both of my freckled cheeks with his hands. John draws back first and presses his forehead against mine, his nose brushing against mine as he tucks some loose red curls behind my ears. I feel a small smile tugging on my lips.

“I love you too, Alexander,” John whispers, his breath warm against my skin.

“Just a few more days,” I say quietly, cupping his jaw and stroking his cheek with my thumb.

“Just a few more days…”

***

I can’t stop giggling. We’ve reached John’s apartment a half hour later after the “incident” at the restaurant. Gripping my hand tightly in his, John drags me into his apartment when the elevator doors slide open. He drags me through the living room, through the kitchen, through the halls towards his bedroom. Once his bedroom door closes behind me, John presses me against it, pinning my shoulders to the door as he suddenly smacks his lips against mine, fighting for dominance.

I slide my hands up to cup the sides of his face, towards his hair while he pins my shoulders. I let my fingers slide into his hair, feeling how soft they are, how they’re almost like silk. John shifts a little to align his body with mine, angling his face so he could properly fit his lips against mine, standing up a bit straighter. I start to slide the sleeve to John’s jacket off but John stops me. He sweeps me up off my feet, one arm behind my back and the other underneath my legs. I yelp with sudden surprise as I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck. He then practically tosses me onto his bed.

I let out a shrill laugh, but the laugh was soon cut short when his lips connected with mine, crawling on top of me, pinning my shoulders to the pillows underneath me now instead of the door. I tug at his shirt collar with one hand while the other pulls his hair tie out with the other, letting his beautiful honey-blonde hair fall around his face, and drapes over his shoulders some. He lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. My fingers trace around his muscular frame, tracing his broad shoulders, his large biceps, his chest, his abdominals, the crook of his jaw, his nose, his lips, his ears.

I slide an arm out from my turtleneck, resting the bare arm around his neck while I wiggle my other arm out as he pulls it down. He moves his lips from mine down towards my jaw and leaves a few kisses there. I tilt my head a little, my arms draped around his neck, as he trails his lips down the side of my neck, occasionally letting his lips linger there for a moment or two. He then moves his soft lips from the side of my neck to my shoulder.

“Dear boy,” John breathes, his voice husky and ragged, sharp. He presses more kisses to my shoulders. “I love you. I love you so much. No matter what Henry says.” He moves his lips to mine.

“I love you too, my dear Jack,” I breathe sharply, trying to catch my breath. “More than anything.” More kisses to the lips. “Nothing will change that.”

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” John says, his voice hushed and quiet, soft and warm against my skin, making me shiver. I couldn’t help giggle. “Someone’s a little eager.”

I nod my head frantically, my violet eyes blown wide. But I giggle again, booping his nose with my finger. “You’re the one who started it.”

John laughs through his nose as he angles his head, ready to position his lips against mine once more. “Indeed, I did. And I don’t regret it.”

He dives in for another kiss and I allow him.

He presses his lips to mine once more, shoving me down against the pillows as farther as he can, crawling further on top of me. I pull back suddenly, breaking the kiss. John frowns, confused and slightly pouting, his blue eyes glazed as he stares down at my lips. I force a fond smile, resting a hand on his cheek. I press another kiss to his lips.

"I have an idea," I whisper breathlessly. "Sort of. I don't know if your father will believe it but...it's something."

"What? What is it?" John wonders, pressing a kiss to my forehead, still on top of me.

"I'm thinking," I begin, "that the next time Henry comes near us or something until he leaves, I can still pretend to be Alexandrea but Alexander could be her twin brother that you accidentally kissed. You didn't mean too, it just slipped."

John arches an eyebrow, impressed. "That's...actually not a bad idea, Alex." He frowns. "You honestly think he'll believe it though?"

I shrug, resting both of my hands over John's shoulders. "It's worth a shot."

John grins idiotically. "I love you so much." A pause. "Thank you, Alex. For everything."

"I love you too, Jack," I say, tucking loose strands of honey blonde hair behind his ear. I frown. "I'm sorry...about dinner. I...I ruined it. I...I wanted to do something special for your birthday and—" He suddenly cuts me off with a kiss.

"Shh," John says. "It's okay, Alexander. It's okay. You didn't ruin it. I thank you for trying to do something special for me but you or I couldn't have known that Henry would be there. Like I said, babe, nothing. And I mean nothing will tear us apart."

He presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes as his nose nudges against my freckled cheek. He presses his lips against mine again, giving me a short, chaste kiss. "I love you. I love you, Alexander. I love you."

I give him another chaste kiss, my teeth grazing against his lower lip as my fingers trace his jawline. I arch my back a little bit, my chest almost touching his at the sound of his southern voice.

"I love you too, Jack." A pause. "I love you."

He smiles wide, grinning from ear to ear and laughs through his nose. He dives in for another kiss and I don't say no.

Chapter Text

THE WEEKEND COMES quicker than I expected. I guess, what they say is true: Time sure does fly. During the remaining days of the week, since the incident with John's father, I've been spending time with John himself both at my house and at his. Other times I'd spend my spare time working, whether that'd be school work wise or writing my novel and spending hours—day and night—working nonstop. George's words of wisdom echoes through my mind and pushes me forward: Time is prominent. https://archiveofourown.info/works/29978466/chapters/new#

It's midafternoon on Saturday when I get a call from Peggy. I currently sit at my desk with a cup of coffee at the edge corner of the desk next to my computer. I have my earbuds in my ears, a hood over my head and my feet propped up against the edge of my chair as I type away on my laptop when my phone vibrates. I frown, glancing at the caller ID and grin when it says: Peggy on the screen. I yank the earbuds from my ears and pause my work and press the ACCEPT button, resting my phone against my phone against my ear and my shoulder and continue typing nonetheless.

"Peggy! Hey! What's up?" I say.

"Hey, Alex!" Peggy says. "I heard about what happened on John's birthday at the restaurant you two went too." I can feel her frown. "Are you alright?"

I smile fondly, my heart melting at the thought of how much she cares for me. I nod, even though she can't see me. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks for checking in on me, Pegs."

"Of course, Alex!" she chirps. "That's what friends are for, right?"

I let out a short laugh. "Right."

"So, the Homecoming dance is tonight," Peggy informs me. "Are you still in?"

"Of course!" I say. "I think it'd be fun!" "It is fun!" Peggy assures me. A pause.

"Though, I'm not much of a dancer..." I mumble shyly mixed with a soft chuckle.

"You don't have to be, Alex," she assures me once more. "You can just sit or stand if you want."

I smile softly. "I'll think about it."

"So, what're doing now, Alex?" Peggy asks.

I shrug. "Oh. Nothing much really. Just waiting for this evening and currently working."

"And you have been working," says a voice from behind me. "All day and night. Why don't you take a break, Alexander?"

I yelp with surprise and whip my head over my shoulder to spot George standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest as he leans against the doorframe. He smiles knowingly and arches an eyebrow. I narrow my eyes at him and give him a warning look in return.

"Dad..." I begin but George cuts me off.

"I'm serious, Alexander," George says. He steps into my bedroom without my permission and closes the bedroom door behind him, perching himself on the edge of the bed. He locks his gray-blue eyes with my violet ones. He arches an eyebrow challengingly at me, "This...working like this isn't healthy, son. What's going on?"

I huff out an annoyed sigh. "Sorry, Pegs. I got to go. Dad's being paranoid again."

George gives me an offended look. "I'm not being paranoid!"

"It's alright, Alex. Totally understand. See you at this evening?"

"See you this evening," I whisper, pressing the "End Call" button and turning around in my chair, facing George with annoyed yet frustrated look on my face, my arms folded over my chest.

"I'm not being paranoid," George repeats, huffing as he folds his arms stubbornly like a child over his chest.

"Yes, Dad," I say. "You are."

"I'm just worried about you, son," George sighs defeatedly. "You've been working since you came home yesterday and by the looks of it, you haven't slept a wink. What's going on, son?"

A pause.

Before I could protest, however, George jabs a finger at me. "And don't lie to me, young man. I have known you for three years, Alexander. I can tell when something's upsetting you." Another pause. "Did Mr. Laurens hurt you?"

I shake my head, wrapping my small arms around my narrow frame. "No, Dad. It's not John. It's...it's his father."

George frowns. "His father?"

"He...you know John and I were supposed to be in a fake relationship around his father while he's staying in New York for a couple of days?" I ask.

"Yes?" George says, his expression drawn and his brows knit together with confusion.

"Well, um," I let out a hesitant laugh, scratching the back of my neck. "He uh...He saw us last night, John's father. And Mr. Laurens doesn't know anything about John and I being in a relationship. He believed that the female version of me: Alexandrea and him were in a relationship. So, apparently, Mr. Laurens was having dinner at the same restaurant we were and caught us and boy was he pissed. And now I just can't help but feel guilty."

"What do you mean, son?" George asks kindly, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I mean, I just wanted last night to be special for John. I wanted his birthday to be special, you know? And well, I practically ruined it. If I had dressed up as Alexandrea, none of what would have happened last night would have happened. John kept assuring me that it wasn't my fault this happened and neither him nor I could have known he was there as well. It was...a coincidence, I guess."

"Hmm," George hums thoughtfully. "He's right you know, Alexander? John, I mean. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known." A pause. "Are you...are you alright?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, the spot between my eyes and heave a long, heavy sigh out my mouth. "I swear, if someone asks me that question one more time I won't hesitant to punch them in the face."

George laughs, tossing his both hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, son. I haven't personally met the man himself, but from what I can tell on television he can be quite intense."

"That's what John warned me about the first time," I say, a small smile on my face as I remember the first time I agreed to this two-week plan of being John's fake girlfriend. "But no, seriously, stop being so paranoid. I'm fine."

"Alright, if you say so," George says. He pauses and frowns as he watches me go back to my work, typing away on my computer. "Are you still going to the dance tonight, Alexander?"

I glance at him over my shoulder and nod. "Mhm. John's picking me up and dropping me off home I think."

George clicks his teeth and runs a hand through his ginger-colored hair and sighs. "Right. Right. Of course, he will. Alright." George groans as he pushes himself off the edge of the bed, dusting his pants off then his hands. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard about what happened last night and yeah."

"Thanks, Dad," I say with a soft chuckle. George makes a grunted noise before exiting my bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Once I hear it click shut, I glance up at the window above my desk, at the clear afternoon blue sky, blue as John's eyes. After a while, I go back to work, typing away. I'm nonstop.

***

John picks me up at six like he promised. I quickly swing on a small brown satchel across my torso. I'm going with another dark green leather jacket and a camel brown colored long-sleeve shirt underneath with blue denim jeans and camel brown colored boots, my auburn hair done up in a low bun, letting a few red locks fall in front of my ears. Of course, I have on Uncle Lawrence's watch on my wrist. I haven't taken it off since George gave me it.

John honks his car when he parks in the driveway in front of the house, rolling down his window. I notice, from the living room as I shove my phone and wallet into the satchel quickly, that Tallmadge pokes his head out from the backseat window. John gives me an apologetic look behind the living room window. I couldn't help but grin, laughing to myself at those ridiculous boys while shaking my head. George and Martha stand in the dining room, near the front door, smiling at appropriate times.

"Yo! Hamilton! Let's go!" Tallmadge shouts from outside, hitting the side door with his palm. He whistles and waves a hand in the air, clearly excited for the Homecoming dance tonight.

"You better be home before midnight," George says tersely, jabbing a finger at me as he wraps an arm around Martha.

I roll my eyes. "Dad, come on—"

"I don't care how old you are, young man," George says. "Be home by midnight. Got it?"

"Yes, sir..." I moan, rolling my eyes again and huffing out a breath.

"George," Martha chides, patting her husband's shoulder. "He's a teenager. You know he's not going to listen to you, dear. Let the poor boy have fun! He's old enough to make his own decisions! Plus, don't you think he deserves some fun after all he's been through?"

I glance at Martha over my shoulder, mouthing "Thank you!" to her as I swing open the front door.

"Fine," George sighs. "Just don't drink!"

I ignore George and rush out the front door, slamming the front door shut behind me and jogging down the front porch steps, checking my satchel to make sure my phone and wallet along with the phone charger are inside. And, they are.

I zip up the satchel and jog around the head of the car towards the passenger side door. I swing it open, grinning from ear to ear and my heart thumping with excitement and climb on inside, shutting the passenger door behind me. John smiles brightly as the sun as he watches me buckle up. Once I'm safely secured in the seat, he leans across the console to press a quick, chaste kiss to my lips. The boys behind us whistle and I feel my freckled cheeks grow incredibly warm as John pulls away, breaking the kiss. I feel a hand clamp on my shoulder, patting it affectionately. I turn around to find Meade's the one who's doing it. He beams at me with arched eyebrows.

"Ready to have some fun, Hamilton?" Meade says.

I grin, nodding my head up and down faster than the speed of lightning. "Hell, yeah!"

"Ah, that's our boy!" Tallmadge laughs, clapping his hands together as John starts to pull out of the driveway, glancing behind his head seat to make sure no cars are behind us before turning around and putting the car in drive.

"Laurens!" Tilghman shouts from the backseat. "Turn up the radio! We need to get ourselves hype!"

"Children," John sighs as he shakes his head side to side, reluctantly pressing the power button to the radio. "I'm friends with absolute children."

"Hey, what'd ya know?" Tallmadge says, patting John's shoulder. "It's Backstreet Boys!"

I burst out laughing, doubling over as best I can with my seatbelt across from me, slapping my knee as I try to catch my breath. I laugh at John's horrible singing as he sings along with the guys behind us, rolling down his window. I lean against the window sill, clapping my hands as I watch the four sing to the song and, as best they can, dance to it in their seats.

"Sing it, babe!" John suddenly cries, holding a pretend microphone in his hand towards me.

I shake my head, still struggling to breathe through the laughter that's bubbling up in my chest.

"Aw, come on, Alex!" Meade whines. "Come on! Sing it!"

"Come on, babe!" John says, still holding the pretend microphone towards me.

I feel a warm blush creep on my cheeks as I sing, "Ain't nothing but a heartache!"

"HEY!" the four cheers, clapping their hands together or my shoulder while laughing.

"Ain't nothing but a mistake!" I continue as we drive along the interstate towards the school. "I never wanna hear you say: I want it that way!"

"Am I your fire?" Meade joins, peering over the front seat between John and I. John now moves the pretend microphone towards Meade now. I can't stop smiling, can't stop laughing. "The one desire? Yes, I know it's too late. But I want it that way!"

"TELL ME WHY?!" Tilghman, Tallmadge, and John sings. John moves the fake microphone towards me. I lean towards it, still laughing breathlessly.

"Ain't nothing but a heartache!" I sing.

"TELL ME WHY?!" the four boys in the car chorus.

"Ain't nothing but a mistake!" I continue, swinging my head back and forth, from shoulder to shoulder as I sing, as I laugh.

"TELL ME WHY?!" the four screams.

"I never wanna here you say..." I let it trail off as I turn to face the other four.

Altogether, the four of us sings as loud as we can, "I WANT IT THAT WAY!"

We pull up to the school, which is crowded with a sea of cars in the parking lot so it's surprisingly a lot harder to find a parking space. The song still plays faintly in the background as John rides through the parking lot, trying to find an empty parking space, cursing here and there under his breath when the spot he wants was taken. The entranceway is flooded with students and friends and couples as they flood into the school, pushing and shoving against each other. I can faintly hear the music from the school blaring all the way out here in the open.

John finds a spot near the school's entranceway so thankfully when we leave, we wouldn't have to walk for a full mile just to find his car. The three boys in the back hop out first, already heading towards the school without the two of us remaining inside the vehicle. John heaves a sigh, shaking his head annoyingly as he turns to face me. When I feel his eyes on me, I instinctively turn to face him. He smiles, his lips pressed together as he tucks a loose auburn curl behind my ear and cradles my jaw in his palm. I lean into his touch as he leans forward and kisses me long and slow. About five to ten minutes later, I finally pull away to break the kiss, reminding John about the Homecoming dance tonight. John pouts and grumbles something incoherently underneath his breath as he kicks the driver's side door open. I watch him walk around the head of the car to my side.

Being a gentleman, he swings my door open and extends his hand out towards me. I gratefully take his hand and he shuts the door as I hook my arm through his. Together, we enter the school. I grimace at the sudden loud, booming music coming from the gymnasium as we make a left down the hall, arm in arm and the flashing multicolored lights as students crowd the dance floor, dancing and spinning, laughing and pumping their fists up to the beat of the songs as the D.J. plays from the stage, nodding to the beat.

John opens the door to the gymnasium for me and I thank him quietly. He nods back with a warm smile on his face as we enter the room. We linger by the food table for a minute or too, scanning the area. I notice a few students sitting at tables surrounding the dance floor, taking selfies with their phones or of others in front of them or just scrolling through them. John guides me to the food table next to us and grabs both him and I a plate. He hands me mine and I thank him again once more. He presses a kiss to my cheek as a "Your welcome."

Once fixed our plates with small snacks, we head towards a table, laughing occasionally and John stopping by a close friend he knows every once in a while, and introduces them to me. John finds us a table and sits himself across from me, locking his eyes with mine as he takes a sip of his water, the corner of his upper lip curls slightly. He clears his throat when he sets his cup down on the table and picks up a chicken nugget and munches on it.

"So," John says, clearing his throat to start a conversation. I turn to him, away from the crowded dance floor. I arch an eyebrow as I rest my forearms on the table, my feet crossed over each other underneath, a sign for him to continue. "What do you think?"

I glance back at the crowded dance floor, students dancing and laughing and overall having fun, the D.J. revolves as more remixes of songs are played, lights flash. I even a notice a few teachers dancing on the sides as well. I couldn't help but snort at the sight.

I see Tallmadge on the other side of the room, helplessly flirting with a girl who appears about my age with golden blonde hair and hazel-green eyes. She looks so similar to Martha Manning, John's ex-girlfriend, that I had a feeling that it was Manning herself then for a second but thought against it. I spot Meade and Tilghman on dance floor, being complete idiots and acting as though they're drunk. I shake my head at the two boys on the floor before turning back to John, who stares at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. I shrug as I take a sip of my own water.

"It's alright. Definitely out of my comfort zone, but it's still a good thing to try something new, right?"

"You're right about that, Ham," John says.

"John?" a voice says from behind us. It's thick with a German accent but he speaks in English. John's smile fades a little, furrowing his brows at me with confusion. I frown, shrugging when the voice says his name again. "John Laurens? Is that you?"

John turns around to see a man about in his mid-fifties with dark black hair smoothed back and his skin around his face sags a little with age. His black hair has a hint of gray in it and his dark brown eyes grow wide with recognition and disbelief as he walks a bit faster towards us. He wears a simple black dress jacket with a white shirt underneath it and a black tie along with black dress pants and shoes. John's jaw drops a little as the man approaches us, his frown turning into a shocked smile and he laughs with disbelief. He hops off his chair and embraces the man tightly. I sit there, confused as hell and feeling like a third-wheel. And I hate being a third-wheel.

"Mr. Von Steuben?!" John gasps as he breaks the embrace, gripping the man's shoulders. "Is it you?"

"It most certainly is, Mr. Laurens," Mr. Von Steuben says. "My. Look at you. You've grown. And look at how tall you are now! I remember when you were in my class and you just up to my knee. Now, you're an inch taller than I am. A handsome young man you've turned out to be. Your father raised you well."

"Thank you, sir," John says politely. "My father would be very pleased to hear that from you. And it's so good to see you again."

"It's so good to see you again as well, John," Mr. Von Steuben says, patting John's shoulder affectionately. "How old are you now? Nineteen?"

"Nineteen, sir," John says with a chuckle. "Hard to believe isn't it?"

I slide off the chair, feeling left out and loop my arm through John's, leaning against John's shoulder.

"Um...Jack, my love, care to introduce to me who this man is?" I say politely and sweetly.

"Oh, sorry, darling," John says, his southern accent rolling off his tongue. He turns to Mr. Von Steuben with a smile. "Mr. Von Steuben, sir, this is my boyfriend Alexander Hamilton."

Mr. Von Steuben turns to me and smiles wide. He lets out a choked gasp in disbelief and glances between John and I.

"And in a relationship?!" Mr. Von Steuben gasps. "My word! Well, you know what they say: they do grow up too fast."

Mr. Von Steuben turns to me. He bows like a prince and grabs my small hand in his larger one. His hand feels rough as he lifts my hand up to his lips.

"You must be Mr. Washington's son," Mr. Von Steuben says. "A pleasure to finally meet you in person Mr. Hamilton. I've heard so much about you and it is my honor to meet your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Baron von Steuben. I was one of John's childhood teachers and a close family friend of the Laurens family." He then presses a kiss to the back of my hand in greeting before lowering it and standing up straighter. He smiles warmly at me. "You lovely tonight, Mr. Hamilton."

"Thank you, sir," I say. "And please, call me Alex."

"And you may call me Steuben," he says. "Come on, let's sit and catch up, yeah?"

I sit back up in my chair and John sits next to me as Mr. Von Steuben sits across from me now.

"So, tell me, John," Mr. Von Steuben says, clearing his throat. "How long have you two been together?"

"Oh," John says, wrapping his muscular arm around me. "About a month nearly, I think. I don't know to be honest. I lost track of time with school and all."

"Right, right," Mr. Von Steuben says. "And uh...how'd you two meet?"

"I met Alexander at the tail end of September," John explains. "He was having trouble opening his locker, a sign for me that he was new to King's. So, I offered some assistance and opened his locker for him and guided him towards his homeroom class afterwards. And, well, after that we became friends."

"Close friends," I mutter quietly, resting my chin in my palm.

"Yes," John agrees, knocking his knee into his and flashing me a warm smile. I couldn't help but smile back.

After a while of catching up on our lives, John suddenly looks tense. I frown when I see his blue eyes widening and his jaw clenching. His face suddenly becomes pale as if he's seen a ghost. He swallows hard, letting out a shallow breath. I rest my hand on top of his clenched one on the table, causing him to draw his attention towards me.

"Hey, you alright, Jack?" I ask. "You look like you saw a ghost or something."

"I'm fine," he whispers, pecking my lips suddenly. "I um...I have some business to deal with. I'll be right back, darling." He kisses me again before sliding off of his chair and patting my hand before squeezing through the crowded dance floor.

Music still blares loudly and students on the floor still spin and do robotic moves, some even do the worm. Tallmadge frowns next to the girl he was flirting with early as he watches John storm towards the exit. Tallmadge locks eyes with mine, arching an eyebrow. I shrug, shaking my head, sending him a mental message that I didn't know what was wrong. Tallmadge then whispers into the girl's ear, and she nods understandably as she takes his red solo cup from his hand and follows John out the gym, letting the wooden door flutter shut behind him. I frown, staring after them as the door clicks shut.

My stomach twists as I swallow. I excuse myself from Mr. Von Steuben and follow the two, exiting the gymnasium and letting the door click shut behind me.

Something tells me something isn't right.

And I have a feeling I know exactly what it is.

Chapter Text

"ALEX?" A FAMILIAR voice says, echoing through the school's halls. I skid to a stop when I hear the voice, instantly recognizing it. It has a French accent to his English words. And there's only one person who I love in the world that can speak fluent in French. My violet-blue eyes widen slightly when I hear his voice ring through my ears, saying my name. I couldn't help but smile a wide, trembly smile. He says my name again through a shocked laugh.

"Alexander?" he says. I know exactly who it is now. I slowly crane my neck over my shoulder, my eyes blown wide now with shock, jaw dropping.

I gasp, my breath hitching in my throat when I see Gilbert Marquis de Lafayette standing before me. He smiles wide, letting out a short laugh, his hazel-green eyes widening as well. He drops his bags to his feet and opens his arms out for an embrace. His ginger-colored hair brushed back neatly to the side. He wears a simple navy-blue turtleneck and black denim jeans with white Chuck Taylors. A typical Lafayette outfit.

"G-Gil?" I say, surprised and confused as to why he's here. Last time I checked, he was in France at his college. How is he home this early? He doesn't come back home for another month! He nods, smiling wide and beaming brightly as the sun.

I let out a laugh, blinking my eyes to make sure I'm not dreaming. I forget all about John then as I run up to my brother, tears of joy and relief rolling freely down my cheeks now. I let out a startled and confusedlaugh again as I sprint towards him, pumping my arms back and forth, my eyes locked on Lafayette's. It's not until I reach him do I notice there's a man standing behind Lafayette also with ginger-colored hair and a long, rounded face and a hooked nose with deep brown eyes. He appears to be in his early twenties at the far latest and is an inch taller than Lafayette. He stands behind Lafayette with his arms behind his back, a warm, gentle smile on his face as he watches us brothers reunite. It occurred to me then that this man behind my brother must be Hercules Mulligan in person.

I fling my arms around my brother's neck, burying my face into the crook of his shoulder and let out a surprised sob. Lafayette wraps his muscular arms around my small, narrow frame as he lifts me up a little off the ground and spins me in a small circle while I still have my face buried into his shoulder and my arms around his neck. He and I both laugh with both disbelief and relief. He sets me back down and rests both of his hands on my freckled cheeks, almost squishing them together, his eyes wide. I grip his wrists, laughing as I never take my eyes off of my brother's.

"Alexander!" Lafayette cries before pressing a kiss to my forehead and pulling me into another tight embrace, one hand on my back while the other cradles the back of my head. In return, I wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as if he were to vanish in thin air almost immediately. I pull away from his embrace, gripping his wrists again as he squishes my freckled cheeks once more, scanning me up and down, making sure I'm okay and alive.

"Gil!" I wail, sniffling. "Gil!"

"Oh, Alexander!" Lafayette gasps, pulling me back into his arms again. "Mon fere! I've missed you! I've missed you so much, mon petite lion! I've been so worried about you! Oh, mon fere!"

"Grand fere!" I cry, pulling away once more to wipe the tears that won't stop falling. I can't stop smiling, can't stop laughing. "Gilbert! I've missed you! I've you missed you so much big bro! W-What...what are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back home until Thanksgiving!"

Lafayette shrugs, brushing a loose curl behind my ear and pats my shoulder. "Eh. Well, they let the students go home a month earlier. I don't know why though. But I wanted to surprise you. I already stopped by Mom and Dad's place and let them know I was home and on my way to see you. George told me that you were here at homecoming so..."

"Gil..." I say. Lafayette smiles before embracing me tightly one last time and gesturing to the man beside him. Lafayette smiles almost dreamily yet still wide as the man approaches us, standing beside my brother.

"Alex? I'd like you to meet my er...my friend. Hercules Mulligan."

Mulligan smiles warmly at me, bending down into a bow as he extends his hand out for me to shake when he stands up a bit straighter. I fold my arms over my chest, arching an eyebrow. Lafayette gives me a pointed look.

"Hercules Mulligan is the name," Mulligan says. His voice has a twinge of Irish in it. "You must be Lafayette's kid brother. He's told me a lot about you, Mr. Alexander and it's truly an honor to finally meet you in person."

I smile a little, feeling the corners of my lip turn upward as I nod once, shaking Mulligan's hand. Lafayette sighs in relief, his tense shoulders slumping into relaxation.

"A pleasure to meet you in person as well, Mr. Mulligan," I say. "And please, call me Alex."

"Then you may call me Hercules," he says. "Or Herc, for short if you will."

I nod, my arms folded over my chest once more. Lafayette relaxes even more as time passes by. I lean against the wall in the hallway as I laugh at Mulligan's jokes and past childhood experiences, his family and whatnot. Lafayette never leaves his eyes off of me, smiling gratefully. I nod once. He's clearly a charmer, Mr. Mulligan is. I wouldn't be surprised if my brother swooned over him after they first met.

The music still blares from the gymnasium down the corner, but it's faint. I can still hear students laughing and cheering, some clapping their hands. Multicoloredlights still flash but I can only spot a few from around the corner. Ipull back my sleeve to reveal Uncle Lawrence's watch to check the time. It's already almost 8:45.

Lafayette frowns, his brows furrowed together as he folds his arms over his chest, eyeing the watch on my wrist.

"Where'd you get that?" Lafayette suddenly ask, interrupting Mulligan's anecdote about his childhood. Mulligan pauses his story, blinking confusedly before turning over to Lafayette.

"Get what?" Mulligan says.

Lafayette frowns deeper, jabbing his finger at me accusingly. I shake my arm so the sleeve will roll back down to hide the watch.

"Get the watch," Lafayette says. "Where'd you get it, Alex?"

I frown, glancing between Mulligan and Lafayette. Mulligan shrugs. I swallow, pressing my lips together in a firm line. I suddenly have the feeling I shouldn'thave revealed the watch here, right now. I bite my bottom lip.

"Um...Dad...Dad gave it to me, Gil..." I whimper, grimacing at how weak my voice sounds. I wrap my arms around myself. I feel myself shrink under Lafayette's intense stare. Iswallow thickly. "Dad gave it to me, Gil. He...he said it was Uncle Lawrence's and that Uncle Lawrence would want me to have this. Uncle Lawrence apparently originally gave it to Dad who had kept it for so long Dad thought it was the right time to pass it on to me..."

Silence. Lafayette clenches his jaw and arches both eyebrows. He nods once. "Oh...very well, then."

"What?" I say. "What is it, Gil?"

"Nothing. Just...thought he would give it to me first and then pass it on to you. But I can see now George clearly has favorites."

I spit out a laugh. Lafayette giving me a confused look. "You kidding me? You're seriously jealous over a watch?"

"Oh, hush," Lafayette hisses, whacking the back of my head with the back of his hand and sticks his tongue out at me teasingly. I huff and fold my arms over my chest once more and stick my tongue teasingly back out at him. The two of us stare at each other once and double over, laughing. Lafayette nods approvingly now and pats my shoulder.

"George was right in giving that to you. You earned it, Hamilton," Lafayette says.

"Thanks, Marquis," I say. He smiles wide. I clear my throat. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I have to find John. He panicked I guess earlier and ran off somewhere. Now, I have to find him to make sure he doesn't do something stupid."

Lafayette and Mulligan both chuckle, nodding understandably. "Right, right. Of course. Go on, little brother. We'll be in the gymnasium if you need anything, alright."

"Alright," I say, embracing my older brother once more. "Love you, Gil. I'll text or call if I need anything."

"Love you too, Little Lion," Lafayette says, ruffling my auburn hair teasingly before following Mulligan around the corner and into the gym.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and spin around on my heel. Last time I saw John was down this hallway. I sprint through the narrow hall. Thankfully, there're no students along these halls so I don't have to worry about maneuvering through them or bumping into them so that's a plus. The hallway comes to a dead end. I frown, glancing to the left where both the female and male bathroom stalls are. He must have gone in one of there or something. I furrow my brows together, my face drawn as I cock my head to oneshoulder.

I walk along the walls, slowly my running to a walking pace. I hear faint voices coming from the distance, around the corner. I frown. As I approach the male bathroom's stall, the voices become more distinct. They're males obviously. It sounds like two are inside. I pause by the door, clutching the doorframe as I press my ear against it. I hear a southern voice and a Yorker voice. Laurens and Tallmadge.

"Are you kidding me?!" I hear Tallmadge shout angrily. He smacks something, probablythe sink. "Did you even think about Alexander?!"

I frown again, my mind churning as I ponder what he could possibly mean by that.

"What kind of question is that?" John. Definitely John. "Of course, I thought of Alexander! You know, Ben, I love him more than anything in the world! More than my own existence. I would die for him."

My heart skips a beat.

"Then, do prey tell, Laurens, why did I find you kissing the hell out of Manning?!" Tallmadge screams, pounding his fist against the sink or the wall I couldn'ttell.

My heartcracks as I let out a gasp. I shake my head, leaning against the wall, sliding down it a little. No. He wouldn't. John wouldn't do that...would he? Not afterall he and I have been through together? Not after...not after I made love to himfor the very first time? Not after he just gathered up all his courage to breakup with the woman he doesn't love...? Or...does he? Does he love her? Was Angelica right? Was John really using me? Did John really love me or was I just some kind of toy to him...? Iclose my eyes gently, letting out a sharp breath. I better wait and find out, I suppose.

"She cornered me, Tallmadge!" John protests. "I had no choice!"

"Oh, that's what they all say," Tallmadge says, laughing bitterly. "If she cornered you and pinned you to the wall so you couldn't escape like proclaimed, then how in the hell did I find you pinning her to the wall and kissing her to death?! How is it, Laurens, did I find you kissing her, kissing her jaw, kissing her neck, kissing her shoulder and starting to unbutton—"

I squeeze my eyes, whimpering as I shake my head, tears threating to fall. No. No, it can't be true...he...he loves me. He said so himself and he broke up with her because he didn't love her in the first place...

"Enough," John—no, not John. Laurens. Laurens hisses sharply. "Enough. Stop it, Ben. I'm begging you. Please, Ben. Don't tell him. But trust me when I tell you that I had no choice. She pinned me to the wall first, yes. But I figured if I could oblige her commands, I'd be able to escape. So, I spun her around so now she's pinned to the wall and I obliged her commands. I had to Ben. I had too. Please..."

I slowly crack open the door, bracing myself for the storm inside. I poke my head through the cracked doorframe, breathing slowly in and out of my nose as I watch the two teenage boys bicker and argue nonstop.

"I love Alexander," John whispers. "You know that. You know I would never do anything to hurt him, not to anyone who is as kind and trusting as he is. I'm sorry, Ben, if I disappointed you—"

"You did disappoint me, Laurens," Tallmadge hisses, his voice still clearly angry but has calmed down a notch. "And you are right. Alexander is kind and trusting and I love the kid like a little brother. I can't believe you would do something so stupid to hurt someone like him. I thought you and Manning broke up for God's sake!"

"We did! We did break up, Ben. I broke up with her because I love Alex! I didn't love her. Even before Alex came to King's, I never loved her. I never ever. My father forced me to date her because I didn't...well...and he just can't accept the fact that I won't change. That I won't meet his expectations. But when Alex arrived, I...I just never felt so loved before. I loved him, Ben. I would never do anything to hurt him." A pause. "And you know that."

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to feel. I want to believe him. I want to believe Laurens. He sounds sincere. He looks sincere, apologetic, terrified. Part of me wants to barge in there and wrap Laurens in a big old hug and kiss him to death, while the other part of me wants to slam him into the wall and claw him red.

"Please, Ben," Laurens whispers, clutching onto his friend's wrist. It's then that I notice that Laurens has unshed tears in his eyes. My throat burns and my heart breaks at the sight. "You have to believe me. I know you love Alexander like a little brother and you love and care for him as much as I do. But please, Ben, if you want him to remain happy, to keep him smiling and laughing and being the Alex we know then...please. Don't tell him."

It's silent for a moment. I hold my breath, blinking my eyes as I wait for Tallmadge's response.

"No," Tallmadge says. "You got yourself into this mess and you can get yourself out."

"Ben—" Laurens starts but Tallmadge cuts him off and walks right past him, knocking his shoulder into his and almost brushing his shoulder against mine.

Tallmadge looks down at me with a sympathetic look on his face. He frowns and clamps ahand on my shoulder. I don't look up. I can feel his warm breath against my ear as he whispers, "Let me know if you want me to beat his ass. I'll be right around the corner."

I feel a small smile appearing on my face. A small, tiny one which soon fades back into a frown when I stand in the entranceway of the bathroom stall looking—and I hate to say it—but weak and fragile. Small and broken.

When I come into view, Laurens whips his head up at me and his eyes widen. He becomes stiff when we're face to face, chests almost touching. Almost. Laurens still has those unshed tears glistening in those baby blue eyes that I fell in love with. That made me fall in love with him over and over again. He clenches his jaw and nods once and clasps his arms behind his back as if he were really a commanding officer in the military and wouldn't relax until his commander says, "At ease, Laurens."

It's silent between the two of us for a good while. I stare at him, having to tilt my head back a little to meet his eyes. My arms are folded over my chest. I swallow the lump of tears down my throat.

"Alex..." Laurens whispers. I grimace, pressing my lips tightly together and closing my eyes, almost feeling faint when I hear him saying my name breathlessly. But I open my eyes and controlled myself nonetheless.

"I knew it," I hiss through a whisper. Laurens grimaces and looks down at the spot between his feet. "I knew something like this was going to happen."

Silence.

"This is why I never wanted to be in a relationship in the first place!" I snap, my voice rising just a smidge. "So, I wouldn't have to deal with this!"

"Alex, please—" Laurens tries but I cut him off with anger.

"No! No! Don't call me Alex. You lost that privilege. It's Alexander to you."

Laurens doesn't say anything.

"No," I whimper, shaking my head, my breathing quickening. My voice cracks. "No. No, you can't...you couldn't have...notafter all of this...not after I made...no...No!"

"I'm sorry, Alex—Alexander. I had no choice." I snap my head up sharply, sniffling and unable to stop the tears from escaping. I take a large step back.

"So, it's true?" I whimper, sniffling. "You did kiss her back? Did you make out with her? Did you...did you cheat on me?!"

Silence.

"Why? Why?!" I wail. I slam him against the wall and he winces, gripping his shirt collar with balled fists. "Why?! Why is it that everyone I love leaves me?! My parents, my cousin, my brother, and now...what was I John Laurens? What was I to you? Was I just some...some kind of toy thing?! We've been together for nearly a month and now...and now you're ready to be rid of me?!"

Silence. I search his face, search his eyes, anything that might betray him of his calm expression. But I see nothing. He doesn't show any kind of emotion.

Gathering my anger and hurt and betrayal, I lift up a hand. I hear a loud, deafening snap, almost sounds like someone's breaking a tree branch in half against their knee. Then, followed by silence. Stunned silence.

My violet-blue eyes widen and I let out a sharp gasp at the realization of what I had just done. Laurens's head is whipped over his shoulder, his blue eyes wide with shock. He raises his hand slowly up to his cheek, the very same cheek where his scar is and faintly touches it, grimacing. I notice, on his cheek, there's a faint red mark.

Heaving heavily and desperately trying not to break down right in front of him, I take several large steps backwards towards the door, away from Laurens who scowls terrifyingly at me. His sky-blue eyes narrowing down at me, his brows drawn together tightly and his nose scrunching up as his lips twist into a scowl. His hand still on his cheek.

"I think we should take a break," Laurens whispers shakily, his eyes locked on mine. "You're clearly not ready."

Before I could protest, Laurens brushes past my shoulder, knocking his into mine and nearly causing me to stumble off to the side.

I let out a choked sob once the bathroom stall door slams shut behind him. I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering as I slide down the wall, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, resting my head behind my kneecaps.

Perhaps Laurens isn't the coward.

Maybe I am.

Chapter Text

I DON'T KNOW how long it's been since our so-called "breakup". I'm not sure what to call it, really: a breakup or a misunderstanding. But I know it's been long enough to the point where I couldn't bare this silence between us any longer. We haven't spoken a word to each other since our last encounter. Laurens has been avoiding me as much as he can, looking so pitiful and betrayed as if I'm the one who cheated on him. He has been avoiding as much physical contact of me as possible, no knee-knocking under tables, no hand holding under tables like we used too. Unless, around Mr. Laurens. So far, Mr. Laurens believes the idea that I'm still Alexandrea and that "Alexander" was her twin brother. So, that's a plus.

It's towards mid-November now. Homecoming has passed and Halloween has passed quicker than I imagined. Now, it's officially autumn with a cool breeze blowing through the wind—not too hot, not too cold—and the dark green leaves starting to change colors going from reds to yellows to browns to oranges and starting to fall onto the ground as the breeze blows. It's been about a week or two since Laurens and I's argument.

I'm sitting at the cafeteria now, poking at my food grievingly with my fork, my freckled cheek in my palm and my elbow on the table. Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy all cast worrisome looks with each other, frowning while Angelica shoots Laurens a hard glare down the edge of the table. Laurens hardly looks interested in whatever we have to say or do. He's almost in the same position I am with an elbow on the table and his palm against his cheek, but he has his phone in his hand instead of his fork. I feel my eye twitch and my hand curling around the plastic fork. I bounce my leg up and down restlessly.

"Okay, whatever the hell is going on between you two, has to stop," Meade says, slamming his tray down in between Laurens and I. He sits in between us at the lunch table. "I can't stand this silence anymore!"

"Yeah? Well, perhaps then Laurens should have thought about that before he decided it was a good idea to kiss the living daylights of the girl he never loved in the first place!" I say with a bitter laugh.

Laurens sighs heavily and massages his aching temples before shooting me a look I can't quite read. He looks exhausted, to be honest.

"I keep telling you, Hamilton," Laurens hisses, spitting out my last name like venom. I try not to grimace. "I had no choice! You heard everything I had told Ben!"

"Really?" I say, arching an eyebrow and shifting a little on the bench at the table to fully face him as best I can. "That's what they all say, Jack-ass!"

Peggy snorts at that. Eliza nudges her sister in the ribs, shooting her scolding look. Peggy shrugs, smiling sheepishly as shrinks a little under her sister's glare. Eliza just rolls her eyes, sighing heavily as she turns back to face us.

"Oh, you're gonna play that card, huh?" Laurens says, laughing bitterly, his southern accent rolling off his tongue again. I nod once, narrowing my eyes at Laurens, feeling a scowl starting to form on my face. Laurens shrugs. "Okay, then. Freckles. Why must you always make assumptions?! You didn't even let me explain myself! You just assumed I had cheated on you, which I assure you, Freckles, I didn't. I would never do something like that to anyone who is as trusting and as kind as you are. God, sometimes I wish I could break up with you, Freckles. But you're lucky you're too adorable to do that."

"Didn't you two already break up, though?" Tilghman says from beside me.

"We were on a break!"

Silence.

Laurens sighs through his nose and leans forward against the table past Meade's arm to meet my eyes.

"I love you, Alexander," Laurens continues, his voice lowering for a second. "I will never stop loving you. She doesn't mean a thing to me, you do. She had me cornered and surprised me by her appearance. I couldn't find away to escape from her, she seemed to block every possible option. So, the only thing I had to do was to oblige to her commands. I had to kiss her, Alexander. I had to. It wasn't by force but it left me no choice but to do so." A pause. "Now, I am terribly sorry I have caused you this much pain, this much hurt and betrayal. But trust me, when I tell you, that I thought of you every second. That I love you."

I don't say anything. Laurens sighs and gets up from his seat and walks around Meade towards me. He sits in the little space between Meade and I and grabs my hands in his and holds them tightly together. Laurens sighs.

"You changed my life, Alexander," Laurens says. His blue eyes shine with unshed tears. "You changed me. You've helped me conquer the most challenging things in my life. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Alexander. But I only wish for you to understand that I would never hurt you on purpose. You are not some toy thing to me, I do not wish to be rid of you. I only ask you to be happy and for you to forgive me. But I understand if you need time."

I sigh, gripping Laurens's hands in mine...no...not Laurens. John. He's earned my trust again. He has swooned me with his charms and his words once more. John lifts my hands up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to my knuckles. I frown, glancing at our enclosed hands, trying to figure out what to do. I don't know. Honestly, I don't know what to do. Laurens rubs his thumb over my knuckles comfortingly as he can feel my discomfort and my hesitation and my fear. I chew on the inside of my cheek, letting out a shuddering breath.

"You're right," I whisper softly so only John can hear. "I...I just need some more time. I..." My words start to choke up for some reason. "I just...I don't know what to do...All of this is so overwhelming to me and...and I've never been in a relationship besides you and I-I—"

"Shh," John whispers, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. "I know. I completely understand."

My violet eyes tick up to his sky-blue ones. He has a small smile on his face as he tilts his head a little, staring down at me lovingly, longingly, achingly. He misses me. I can tell. I miss him too. But I just need more time to process things, to figure out what to do. But of all that has happened, John has a small smile on his face as I lock my eyes with his. I feel the corners of my lips tugging upward slightly and squeeze his hands that are around mine.

"Here," John whispers so only I could here. I frown curiously as he reaches for something from his back pocket and hands it to me. It's a silver necklace. Simple yet beautiful at the same time with a small, silver heart dangling from the silver chain with lines through the heart weaving through each other into the shape of the heart itself. He places the necklace in my hands.

"It was my mother's," John says. "She gave it to me before she died. I think...I think she'd want you to have it, Alexander." I stare at the necklace with wide eyes as I lift my head up to John. I shake my head.

"No," I say. "I can't take this! It's your mother's!"

"Please, Alexander," John says. "In case something happens to me, you will always have a piece of my heart with you."

I sigh lightly and force a small smile on my face when I glance from the necklace to John again. I nod once, my heart melting.

"Alex," I say.

"What?" John says, though it sounds more like a gasp.

"Call me Alex," I say with a smile, clutching the necklace tightly. John smiles wide and laughs, shaking his head before pulling me into a tight hug.

I'm startled by the sudden affection, my arms hovering just above his back with shock and surprise written over my face. John's head is buried into the crook of my neck, his arms wrapped tightly around my small back. His honey-blonde hair tickles against the back of my neck. I smile softly as I return the hug, wrapping my arms underneath his and against his shoulder blades, resting my chin on his shoulder and squeezing my eyes tightly.

"I love you, Alex," John whispers, his breath tickling against my skin. I let out a gasp and then shuddering breath. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. You know I would never do that to you."

"I know," I whisper pulling back from the hug, forcing a smile to appear on my face. I look up into John's blue eyes, seeing myself in the small of his pupil.

"Well, we best get going. The bell will ring soon and um...we have class to get too," John whispers.

"Right," I agree.

John gets up, patting Meade's shoulder as he carries his tray towards the trash cans by the entranceway. My heart lurches suddenly when I feel the sudden urge to call after him before he could disappear again.

"Jack!" I cry, causing him to stop suddenly by the entranceway. He frowns, slowly turning to me over his shoulder. I smile softly. "Thank you."

He smiles wide and nods once before disappearing around the corner again.

***

It's now towards Thanksgiving and John and I couldn't be happier in being with each other's presence. A lot has happened during the month of November with our relationship beginning to mend together again along with exam preparations to worry about and presentations for classes to deal with. John and I always work side by side, shoulders brushing or knees knocking under school desks or lunch tables, going on afternoon walks on weekends together through Central Park, hand in hand as John swings our arms back and forth as we walk. Mr. Laurens still stays in New York City. He's leaving after Thanksgiving which is a few days from now and pretty soon I can be a normal teenage boy who's helplessly in love.

But tonight is the night I attend the Schuyler's Winter's Ball like I had promised Eliza those many months ago. Lafayette stands in beside me in Mulligan's tailor shop, eyeing me up and down, stroking his chin thoughtfully as his brows furrow together, a crease formed in his forehead, with an arm crossed over his chest.

I shift a little uncomfortably under his stare and shrink a little as Mulligan paces around me, also staring down at me a little and frowning, humming with thought.

"It's a winter theme," Mulligan says, arching an eyebrow as he glances back at Lafayette. "So, he should go with something blue or white or black or even gray for his suit. Something that falls in the winter color scheme."

"I think a navy blue would fit him," Lafayette agrees. "Or perhaps the classic black. Is purple a winter color? If so, could you make him a purple one, to match his eyes."

"Purple will look beautiful on him!" Mulligan says, clapping his hands. "And a darker shade of purple will fit perfectly for winter or fall! Alright then. Alex, if you could step onto here for me. I need to take your measurements."

I swallow nervously as I hesitantly step onto the pedestal in front of a full-length mirror. I watch Mulligan rush over to a small table and grab out a measuring tape as he flops down in his chair and wheels it over towards me. Lafayette now walks around me and stands beside me, clapping a hand onto my shoulder in hopes it would help relax me.

"Alex, relax," Lafayette says, squeezing my shoulder. "Hercules won't bite."

I let out a laugh. "You say that now, big bro."

"Alright, Alex," Mulligan says, scooting his chair over to me. "I need you to hold your arms out for me while I measure them. It'll only take a quick second. I promise you." A pause. "And your brother's right. I won't bite."

I press my lips together, glaring at him as Mulligan chuckles nonetheless. He pulls out the measuring tape and measures the length of my stretched out left arm. He nods and hums as he jots down the measurement onto a notepad before he forgets it. He does the same to my right and also jots that note down. He then stands behind me. I still have my arms stretched out, still staring at myself in the full-length mirror, trying to take deep breaths. I'm slightly worried and nervous about tonight yet also excited at the same time. Mulligan reels the measuring tape out and presses it against my back. He jots it down and does the sides of my body next from my arm down to my waist then from my waist to my ankle.

"You're quite small for a seventeen-year-old," Mulligan says, jotting his notes down on the notepad.

I feel my eye twitch. "Yes. Well, I stopped growing unfortunately. Everyone else in the Washington's residence are complete giants while I'm over here small as an ant."

Mulligan bursts out laugh. I couldn't help grin a little. I see Lafayette smiling with his arms folded over his chest in my peripheral.

"Sorry, my apologies," Mulligan says as he tries to catch his breath. "I didn't mean to laugh at that. It's just the analogy is hilarious. I like you, Alexander. Have a good sense of humor."

I just smile kindly.

"Alright. You just stay there, Alex, while I go get your suit for the dance."

Once Mulligan disappears around the corner, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I turn to Lafayette who smiles with both eyebrows raised.

"Well?" Lafayette says, leaning against the counter.

I shrug, lowering my outstretched arms by my side. "He's alright. Not as bad as I thought he would be. Kind, charming, handsome~"

I wink at my brother, who flushes furiously, his face almost red as my hair as he presses his lips together and shoots a hard glare at me as I nudge my elbow into his ribs. Lafayette rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"Sweet too," I add. "And he also has a good sense of humor."

"Yes, he does. Part of the reason why I adore him so much," Lafayette says. Then he pauses and frowns. "So, um...mind telling me why my little brother is dressed as a woman most days when he gets home from school with Laurens?

" I feel my freckled cheeks flush as I whip my head over towards my brother. He arches an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.

"Oh," I say. "Um...well...it's a long story, Gil."

"I have time," he assures me with a shrug of his shoulders.

I grimace. There's that word again: time. That word seems to haunt me everywhere I go, just like my tragic childhood past. I huff out a breath and fold my arms over my chest.

"Basically, Gil, John broke up with his girlfriend he was forced to date by his father. His father called later that day to inform him that he'd be staying in here in Manhattan for a couple weeks and expected John to at least be engaged to her. But you see, Jack—I mean, John—isn't like most men. He's um...he's..."

"He's what, Alex?" Lafayette asks. "He's um...I'd rather not say. It's personal and I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone unless he wants me too. But anyways, he broke up with his girlfriend because he didn't love her at all and um...he panicked when he got that call from his father and asked me to be his fake girlfriend for a while until his father leaves New York. So, that's why I'm dressed like a woman sometimes. John said his father was heading back to South Carolina after Thanksgiving I believe. So just a couple more days of this, and we'll be back to our normal selves," I explain.

"Huh," Lafayette says after a moment of silence. "Interesting."

"Alright! I think I found the right one!" Mulligan gasps, rushing out of the clothing rack from around the corner, holding a beautiful dark purple suit with matching dark purple dress pants. They're almost like the color of a plum. He holds up the suit for both of us to see. "Well, Alex? What'd you think? It's purple to match your eyes and plumed colored too for winter."

I walk up to it, touching the soft fabric around the cufflink. I grin, glancing up at Mulligan.

"It's beautiful," I say.

"Well, then, mon ami! What are you waiting for? Go try it!" Lafayette says, ushering me to the fitting rooms.

After a few minutes, I finally walk out of the fitting room wearing the suit. Mulligan also handed me a pair of black dress shoes to go with it. My auburn hair is still in it's ponytail, a few curls dangling in front of my ears, framing my angled jawline. The suit fits perfectly on me, shaping out my small waist and hips as well. It's not too tight nor not too loose. It's soft and warm and comfortable.

"Oh, Herc, dear, it's perfect! It suits him perfectly! No pun intended! Oui! That's the one!" Lafayette gasps when I come into the room wearing the suit.

"Well, Alex," Mulligan says with a satisfied grin on his face. He nods once. "What do you think?"

"I really love this color!" I say. "It fits me perfectly like Laf said! It's not too tight or too loose. I can easily dance in this or move around it! I love it! Thanks so for your help, Herc! How much is it?"

Mulligan waves it off. "Ah. Don't worry about it! I'll take care of it! You go to that ball and have fun!"

Lafayette beams as he pecks Mulligan's cheek, causing Mulligan to flush red as a strawberry. Lafayette grabs my arm and drags me towards the exit and towards his car.

I can't wait to see Betsey.

***

"Well, here we are, petite lion," Lafayette says as we pull up to the Schuyler's Mansion parking lot. I lean forward a bit towards the windshield to take in the sight.

"Wow," I breathe, eyes wide. "This place is huge! You didn't tell me the Schuyler's were rich!"

Lafayette chuckles. "Ah, but they are. So, who's this lucky girl you've won the heart for, Alex?"

"Eliza," I say quickly, my fingers fumbling over each other's to unbuckle the seatbelt and now fumble to unlock the car door, excitement pouring out of my chest. Lafayette raises a shocked eyebrow.

"Schuyler?"

"The one and only!" I say, kicking the driver's side door, excited for a lot of things really.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there, mister," Lafayette says from behind me as he reaches across the console to catch hold of my wrist. I groan, rolling my eyes before I turned to face him. "I'm going in with you."

"No," I say. "No. No, no and absolutely no."

"Alex—"

"Gil, please. You know I'll call and/or text you if needed! Please! Just let me be me."

Lafayette presses his lips together, clearly hesitant, before huffing out a breath and folding his arms over his chest. He sighs frustratingly and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Alright," Lafayette says, finally giving in after a few more minutes of hesitation. "Alright. Fine. But I'm not going home. Not just yet. I'll be sitting right here, in this car, until it's time to go. You better have your phone on you! Don't talk to anyone unless it's someone you know—" I roll my eyes. "—and don't drink. Keep your ringer on and be back here by midnight."

"Laf—"

"Alex..." He mocks in the same whiny tone I just did.

"Fine," I say. "I'll be here by midnight. Promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Alex. Now, go!"

I slam the door with my hip, dusting my hands and quickly texting George and Martha to let them know I had arrived at the mansion safely and that Lafayette will be waiting for me when the ball is over and John as well and Meade of course for back up in case anything happened to me which is probably unlikely.

I click my phone off and tuck it back into my back pocket once more as I march up the marble porch steps towards the golden double doors in front of me. I inhale sharply through my nose, gathering up my courage and slowly reopening them. I glance over my shoulder back towards Lafayette who sits in the car a few feet away from me and gives me a small, reassuring smile and a thumbs up.

I turn back towards the golden doors before me and rap my knuckles against it three times and take a large step back, my hands clasped tightly behind my back. I chew on my lip. The door swings open and Peggy appears before me.

She smiles wide when she sees me. She's beautiful. She has har walnut brown hair done up in a high bun, letting a few of her walnut brown curls to dangle in front of her ears—much in the way that I have. Her hazel brown eyes sparkle against the evening sunlight, making them almost appear golden instead of hazel. Her warm brown skin glows as she smiles. She wears a pastel yellow strapless dress, nothing too extreme like an actual ballgown. Just slim and flowy. She has on little makeup with light brown eyeshadow and mascara and red lipstick. She flings her arms around me when she sees me and hugs me tightly. I return the hug as she gestures me inside, closing the door behind me.

"Alex! You came!" Peggy gasps. She eyes me up and down. "You look weird in a suit."

I blink stupidly. "Pardon?"

"Oh, sorry," she laughs. "It's just I'm so used to seeing you in a dress pretending to be Alexandrea and acting as a woman that I've just never seen you in a suit or something. Well, besides street clothes like a t-shirt or whatnot."

"Ah, understandable," I say with a short laugh. I tuck my hands into my back pockets, glancing around my surroundings and taking in the large, overwhelming space.

"Eliza's getting ready with Angie. They'll be down in a second. In the meantime, so how're you and John doing? Everything okay? It's been a while since the "incident.""

I nod. "Oh, yeah. I think we're doing okay now. I still need some time though. But at least we're not bickering like five-year-old's every five seconds."

"That's a plus," Peggy laughs, patting my shoulder. "Why don't you have a seat and I'll get you something to drink? We punch, water, sweet tea, Pepsi products."

"Water's fine," I say. "Thank you."

She nods curtly once. While she's fixing my drink, I find a table near the front parlor of the mansion by the windows. I sit myself down, one leg across the other and one hand against my cheek and the other arm on the glass table. I stare out the window before me, watching the sun sink slowly behind the steel skyscrapers, watching the sky turn from a bright orange to a darker blue, almost navy, with the stars starting to show.

"Excuse me," says a British accented voice.

I stiffen, remembering Lafayette's rules and not daring to look at the intruder. It can't be Church. His is livelier than this one. This one is smooth and elegant, slow and husky almost but not too husky that it sounds like he's grumbling. I feel like I know who it is and I feel like I've met him before. But I can't quite place my finger on it.

In my peripheral, I see him pull out the chair in front of me. He's wearing a bright red suit, almost the color of a strawberry with golden notched lapels along with a black tie. I frown suspiciously, swallowing nervously and trying to find a way to escape if necessary.

"Anyone sitting here?" he says, arching an eyebrow. I don't look at him. I remain silent. The only sound I'm able to hear is my own heart beating fast against my chest. I grip the edges of my seat, uncurling and curling my fingers. My foot tapping restlessly against the floor. I chew on the inside of my cheek.

"No? Well then," he chirps. He sits himself down across from me. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Hamilton. And my, do you look absolutely divine."

I turn to him slowly when he mentions my last name. The boy grins as he extends his hand out towards me, a smirk on his face and an eyebrow raised. He's handsome that's for sure. Definitely a charmer. He has dark chocolate brown eyes and a round-shape like face, a long, hooked nose and an angular chin. He also has this Jedi type braid going behind his right ear. I know him. I know we've met before but where?

"The name's John Andre. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance once again, Alexander."

Chapter Text

I WATCH HIM slowly lower himself into the seat across from me. My stomach twists with a sudden urge to run, to get out of here, to call John for back up. But something also tells me to remain put. So, I do. I grip the edges of my chair, curling and uncurling my fingers nervously, never taking his eyes off of mine.

I swallow thickly, my lips pressed tightly together and my jaw clenched tightly. Andre pulls out a black leather-bound journal and a pen and starts to sketch something. I gasp silently to myself. He's an artist. Much in a way someone else I know is. I chew on the inside of my cheek, narrowing my eyes at him as I watch him sketch something. His dark brown eyes keep on flickering up to me from his sketch book and then back to his sketchbook again, then back to me. I frown, confused. Is he really...?

"You have very exquisite eyes, Alexander," Andre hums, still staring down at this sketchbook. His eyes tick back up to mine, a smirk on hiss face. "A dark purple with light, electric shades of blue. Such a strange, unique, yet beautiful color. It suits you."

I swallow.

"Can I help you?" I say, tersely and rather annoyed.

"No need to be so harsh, Alexander," Andre laughs. "I'm only trying to start a conversation!"

I growl silently behind my closed lips and huff out a long breath. "Fine. My apologies. I'm not the person who likes to trust people so easily."

Andre arches an eyebrow. "Oh. I see. Well, it is an honor to see you again, Alexander."

"Nice to see you again too," I say hotly. "What are you doing here, Andre?"

He shrugs, glancing around the ball room of the mansion. "Only here to enjoy myself and the pleasure of another's company such as yourself. We all could use a break from the torture known as high school." He shivers, grimacing at the thought. He turns back to me for a quick second before quickly scratching something in his sketchbook. I tilt my head to the right. "You look quite divine tonight, Alexander. Such a pity Laurens couldn't be here to witness your beauty."

I frown, trying to fight back the smirk I feel tugging on my lips and also trying to hold back the small, snort of laughter. I raise an eyebrow, inclining my head a little as I fold my arms over my chest.

"Why are you sounding like you're from the 18th century?" I ask.

Andre shrugs again, scratching something down on his sketchbook again. "I just like big words and turn them into long and complicated sentences."

I feel myself grin, despite my desire not to. "Me too."

He smiles a little and hums when he glances back down at his sketchbook in thought. I couldn't help but ask, "Are you an artist?"

Andre's eyes flicker up to mine, but his head remains facing down towards his sketchbook. He smirks. "I like to call myself an artist, yes."

"What do you? Art wise, I mean. My boyfriend's an artist as well," I say, blushing when I call John my boyfriend. Well, he is.

"Is he?" Andre says with mock surprise as he sits up straighter and sets his pen down, closing his sketchbook. "I mostly focus on portraits, just rough sketches of people who I admire most and of friends and family, so that way if they start to disappear from my mind, I won't be able to forget them."

"That's sweet," I say kindly.

A pause.

"May I see?" I ask, glancing up from Andre's sketchbook to Andre himself. He frowns, hesitant but then smiles softly nonetheless. He flips open to the page he was on and slides his sketchbook towards me.

I frown curiously as I take the book, my eyes widening when I see the rough sketch of...of me. It's from tonight, no doubt. Where I'm in this suit sitting across from him, with eyes widen and an inclinedhead in thought. He focuses mostly on my eyes in the drawing, making them vibrant and my small smile radiant. I see the light, rough outlines forming the shape of my face and then over those light lines are darker lines from the pen. The light lines underneath must be from a pencil of a sort. The drawing stops just on my shoulders, making the drawing going from shoulders up. It's beautiful. It reminds me so much of John's, of his drawings and techniques to make the drawing as realistic as possible. Sometimes, I wish I had such talent.

"Well? "Andre says, breaking the silence between us despite the quiet chatter and roaring laughter surrounding us as music plays softly in the distance.

"It's...it's beautiful!" I gasp, completely flattered. "How...how are able—"

"Practice," he says witha shrug as he takes the sketchbook back from me, slapping it shut. A pause. "Where is Laurens, by the way, Alex? Do you mind if I call you Alex?" he says.

I shake my head, a warm smile on my face. "No. Go ahead. I prefer Alex."

And regrins and nods once. "Alright, then. But no. Where is he? Shouldn't he be here with you considering you're his boyfriend?"

I feel my freckled cheeks warm up again as I press my lips firmly together. I fiddle with the cufflinks of my suit underneath the table.

"He's at home," I say. "I'm coming here as Eliza Schuyler's date for the Winter's Ball tonight. I promised her I would before Laurens and I became...a thing."

"Ah," Andre says, making an "O" shape with his lips as he nods in understanding. "And he doesn't mind?"

I shake my head. "Nope. He knows."

The music suddenly shifts into a slow rhythm. I glance behind me, confused at the sudden change of music—it went from a joyous, lively upbeat song to a slow, beautiful melody. I watch behind me at the couples on the dance floor, swaying to the beat of the song. Boyfriends holding their girlfriend's waists while girlfriend's wrap their arms around their boyfriend's necks, looking longinglyat each other. Friends do the same and parents as well. I wish John was here to dance with me out there like the others.

As if reading my mind, Andre scoots his chair back and walks around the table, extending his hand towards me. I blink several times, making sure I wasn't dreaming or seeing things before looking up at him. He has an arched eyebrow anda small, knowing smirk.

"Would you do me the honor, Alexander, of joining me in this dance?" Andre says.

I glance over towards the spiraling staircase to find the three, beautiful Schuyler Sisters standing at the foot of the stairs. Peggy, wearing her long, flowy pale-yellow dress. Angelica, wearing a thin pearl pink evening dinner dress that shapes out her frame perfectly. And...oh. Eliza. She wears a royal blue dress that has a waist-high slit thigh along with a white shawl over her shoulders. Her dark brown eyes, almost the color of black, glistens against the evening sunrays shining through the windows. She smiles warmly at me and nods encouragingly. I return the smile and turn back to Andre, who waits patiently for my acceptance.

I place my hand in his as he helps me up to my feet, nodding. He guides me onto the floor and rests his hands on my hips like the others while I drape my arms over his neck, staring deep into his dark brown eyes.

"So, you can dance?" Andre asks.

I shake my head. "Actually, no. I can't. I'm actually terrible. Dancing is way out of my comfort zone, especially in front of a large group of people like this."

Andre chuckles, leaning into my ear. I inhale sharply, suddenly becoming stiff. I swallow and feel a shiver running down my spine when I feel his warm breath against my skin.

"I'm horrible too," he whispers.

I couldn't help but giggle when he pulls back. After a few more minutes, the music suddenly changes into the upbeat song again. The male's takes their partner's right hand in there's and placing their left handon their partner's hip while the partner rests a hand on their shoulder withtheir hand intertwined with the other. Andre and I do a simple back and forth, side-step movement, our heads bobbing up and down as we do. We don't take our eyes off of each other as we move along the floor, following those in front of us.

I tilt my head a little, a small smile on my face as he lifts our arms up and as I do a spin underneath before returning back to the original position we were just in. We continue to do the side-step movement, our heads bobbing up and down as we move side to side in a circularmotion around the floor. Andre shifts his left foot backwards as we step, whileI push my right foot towards it and then back again.

"So, how you uh...how are you liking it here in King's?" Andre asks, arching a curious eyebrow. I don't know why, but I laugh at this.

"It's not too terrible. I'm used to the building now."

"Good," Andre says. "That's really good. Well, I'm glad you like it here at King's." A pause. "Have you visited here in Albany before, Alex?"

I shake my head. "No. Why?"

"Well, I was um...I was um...thinking that after tonight, I'd take you around the city to show you around," Andre says.

"At night?" I say skeptically, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"I'd think it'd be beautiful," he says. "With the moon casting its pale glow on you, creating a silver halo around you." A pause. "Just the two of us, walking along the streets, looking up at the beautiful night sky with the stars—"

"I'd love too," I say, though it sounds more like a gasp, before I could stop myself. "I'd think it'd be lovely and therapeutic. And perhaps, I could get to know you more." I'm too entranced by his soft words and his soothing voice and his dark eyes. Andre beams, his white teeth flashing.

"Perfect," he says. He leans into my ear. "Meet me around the back of the house after eight tonight when the show's over."

I nod dreamily up at him, my knees buckling underneath me. After the end of the dance, I thank Andre for the dance and he nods. He leans into my ear again and whispers, "Bare me witness that I bare my fate like a brave man."

He walks off, leaving me speechless and confused. I swallow, blinking my eyes out of my daze and shake my head before walking overtowards the three sisters. Peggy arches both of her eyebrows, her arms folded over her chest, Eliza just smiles warmly, and Angelica just smirks, her arms over her chest as well with only one eyebrow raised. I let out a "Heh" noise as I approachthem, scratching the back of my neck hesitantly, smiling sheepishly.

"You and JohnAndre?" Angelica says teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh,hush," I hiss, feeling my cheeks grow warm. "He asked." I glanceat Eliza sheepishly, still scratching the back of my neck.

I swallow. "Sorry,about that, Eliza. I uh...I uh...I hope you didn't mind..."

She smiles kindly and shakes her head. "Not at all, Alex. John Andre seemed like a fine young man."

"He is," I agree, glancing over my shoulder back to Andre, who laughs with a teenage girl with bright blue eyes and wavy light blonde hair pulled in a low bun wearing a teal blue dress. I turn back to the sisters. "Quite the charmer. Handsome too. He's also an artist!"

"An artist?" Peggy gasps. "I didn't know Andre had the talent."

"Well, the more you know," I say.

"Ah, there he is!" shouts a voice from behind me. "The man of the hour, ladies andgentlemen! Mr. Hamilton! I didn't think you could make it!"

"Principle Schuyler!" I gasp with excitement as I embrace him tightly in greeting. "It's so good to see you again, sir."

"And to you as well, Mr. Hamilton," Principle Schuyler says. He claps a hand on myshoulder and raises an eyebrow. "You've been staying out of trouble, have you?"

"Well, of course, sir," I chuckle. "So, I hear you're my daughter's date for tonight?" Principle Schuyler asks,narrowing his eyes at me. I feel myself shrink a little under his stare.

Eliza rolls her eyes, huffing out a breath. "Dad, stop it. He's just a friend."

"That's what they all say, Eliza darling!" Principle Schuyler laughs, mocking a horrible British accent.

"Yes, that's right," I agree with a nod. "I am her date but just tonight. I promised her long before, like early to mid-September that I'd come with her to the Winter's Ball. But she's also right. We're just friends, sir."

"Ah," Principle Schuyler says, making an "O" shape with his lips and nodding in understanding. "I see, now. Oh, I'd like you to come meet my wife, Catherine, Alexander."

Before I could open my mouth to protest, Principle Schuyler rushes to find his wife and immediately drags her over, despite her protests as she sips her wine.

"Alexander? I'd like you to meet my wife: Catherine. Catherine, this is one of my new students! Alexander." I smile warmly as I reach out to shake Mrs. Schuyler's hand. She shakes it in return.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Alexander."

"A pleasure as well and please, call me Alex," I say.

"So, tell me about yourself, Alex. How'd you meet my daughter?" Mrs. Schuyler says, leaning against her husband as she takes a swing of her wine.

In my peripheral, I see Eliza blushing tomato red and she presses her lips together in a firm line, shooting her mother a hard, warning glare. I couldn't help butchuckle.

"Well, I'm originally from the Caribbean. I moved here to New York about three years ago and the Washington's adopted me as their son. And uh...I love literature and writing. I hope to become a lawyer someday and I'm always interested in politics—"I begin, but Principle Schuyler cuts me off.

"Politics! I like that!" he bellows with a laugh.

"Anyways, I met Eliza on the first day I arrived at King's High in September. Since then we've became friends and I promised her I'd come here to the Winter's Ball as her date tonight," I finish.

"Huh," Mrs. Schuyler says and nods with approval.

Eliza lets out a sigh of relief. "Now, if you'd excuse us Mom, Dad," Eliza glances back and forth between her parents, "I'd like to show Alex around the mansion. He hasn't been to Albany or at our home before."

Peggy and Angelica glances at each other, frowning with confusion though Angelica is currently giving me the look of death. I swallow and shrink a little under her intimidating stare. Principle and Mrs. Schuyler also glances between each otherbut shrugs nonetheless.

"Very well, Eliza," Mrs. Schuyler chirps, taking yet another sip of her wine. "Just be careful and call us if you need anything. The same goes to you, Alex."

"Of course," I say.

Eliza grabs my wrist with a wide smile on her face, wide as the sun and her dark brown eyes blown wide. She starts to drag me up the steps.

"Hamilton," Angelica hisses through clenched teeth, gripping my elbow and yanking me back. I yelp with surprise, whipping my head around to face her. "You hurt my little sister and I'll burn you alive, got it?"

I swallow thickly and nod up and down rather quickly. I stumble over my words. "Uh...Um...y-yes...y-yes, ma'am."

"Angie," Eliza whines, shooting hersister a hard glare over her shoulder. "Be nice."

Angelica mimics Eliza's tone, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. Eliza sighs annoyingly before grabbing my wrist and dragging me up the spiraling stairs towards the second floor. Inside, the mansion appears to have only two stories though from the outside, it appeared to have fix. Though, I could be wrong.

"Okay, so up here we have the bathroom right there," Eliza says, pointing to a closed door nextto me. She jogs down the hall and jabs her finger at another closed door. "And here is the master bedroom, some couple guest bedrooms right here and here's Peggy's room."

She cracks open Peggy's door just slightly so I could only see just a sliver of Peggy's room. Eliza runs to the next bedroom door and opens it up wide. She turns to me.

"Thisis my room!" Eliza gasps. She's practically bouncing up and down on her feet like a child on Christmas morning. "And next door is Angelica's."

I follow Eliza around the corner as she kicks the door open. I wince slightly when it bangs against the wall.

"This is the band room!" Eliza says, gesturing to the line of instruments against the wall. My eyes bulge out of my skull. How are they able to afford all of this? "This is where I was taught piano."

I freeze. "You play piano?"

"Yeah," Eliza says. "Can you?"

"A little," I confess. "It's been a while. But I used too, yes. My mother taught me. It was the only way I could learn French."

Eliza smiles sweetly. "Aw. That's sweet."

I smile a little at the memory. "Yeah." "Do you uh...do you want to go down? And dance?" she suggests, a smirk on her face as she arches an eyebrow. I look smug as I hold out my arm for her to loop hers through.

"It would be my honor," I say.

Eliza beams brightly as the sun, trying to suppress the squeal that escapes her as she excitingly takes my arm and we descend down the spiraling staircase towards the ballroom floor where couples and friends and family are lined up across each other: Females on one side and males on the other. I take my place among the males as Eliza takes her place across from me along the females. I can't help but smile as her smile brightens. I glance towards the orchestral pit. The conductor nods and the music starts.

The females start first with a little skip-hop movement towards the males, one arm stretched out andthe other off to the side so they create like an "L" or a right angle. The male's do the same, skipping towards the women, our shoulders barely brushing against each other's. I lock eyes with Eliza's who's smile is too irresistible to resist.

Now, I'm standing where the females used to be across from them. We do the same movement we just did a couple more times before the male's partner steps in front ofthem for a breath. We pivot on our feet in a small, tight circle before facing eachother once more. I grab Eliza's hand in mine (which makes her blush furiously) and rest my hand on her hip. We do a similar move that Andre and I did with the side-step movement, except we go at a diagonal and then back to center.

"Thank you for this, Alex," Eliza whispers. "Really. You seriously didn't have to do this."

I lift an arm up overhead and let her spin around in a small circle, her dress twirling around her, making it seem like she's standing in an ocean before turning back to me with our hands together and her hand resting on my shoulder while mine on her hip as we slow the pace down into a gentle bobbing movement. I smiles oftly, staring into her deep brown eyes.

"Of course, Eliza," I say. "That's what friends are for."

I suddenly step back, still holding her hand as she swings around the corner ofthe ballroom floor in an arch shape before spinning around back to me, her back pressed against my chest and my arms around her before I release her again so our chests are now nearly touching, our hands reconnected and her hand on my shoulder once more while my other free hand rests against her hip. Five minutes later of bobbing up and down and spinning and skipping, the dance unfortunately ends and Eliza and I bow respectfully to each other. Eliza smiles up at me while I smile down at her.

Unexpectedly, she rests a hand on my shoulder and stands on her toes to press a quick kiss to my cheek before rushing off through the crowd. I stand there idiotically for a few breaths, blinking my eyes to make sure I wasn't dreaming before shaking my head and trying to find the backdoor to meet up with Andre like I promised him. Luckily, I found it without causing anyone any suspicion.I gently close the door behind me, letting out a sharp breath I didn't realize Iwas holding. I let my fingers hover over the handle, hearing the faint music behind the closed door and people laughing about inside.

"I'm surprised you actually came," says a British voice from behind me. I yelp with surprise and spin around on my heels, my eyes wide. I breathe in through mynose, gasping when I see John Andre standing before me with his arms behind his back and a smirk on his face. I swallow and instinctively take a step back, only for my back to hit the door. I grimace.

"Well, I said I would, wouldn't I?" I say, my voice quiet and hushed as if someone could hear us.

"Mhm, you did," Andre hums. He holds out his arm for me to loop through. I hesitate but loop my arm through his. We walk off the back porch steps.

"Well, aren't you going to show me around Albany?" I ask, glancing up at him and arching an eyebrow. Andre looks smug, almost triumphant. His grin and the twinkle in his eye makes me feel sick. Something tells me this isn't a good idea...

"It would be my honor."

Chapter Text

WE BEGIN TO descend down the pastures behind the Schuyler Mansion towards the sidewalk, arm in arm. I stay rather stiff, suddenly regretting my decision, suddenly being so hard on myself for how easily I had fallen for him, how I was easily swoon by his words. It's going to be like in the movies. Andre is a weird psychopath who's obsessed with me and kidnaps me or something like that and murders me or whatnot.

I keep my hand clenched around my phone in my pocket in case of emergency. We remain silent as we walk down the small hill behind the mansion and onto the sidewalk. It's still night out, to be more precise it's currently 8:30 P.M. The moon shines brightly above us now, casting a pale glow on the sidewalk as we walk past shopping centers and bookstores and café shops. Stars scatter across the sky, twinkling brightly. It's quiet here. Calming. Peaceful. Therapeutic.

I sneak a glance at Andre in my peripheral, clenching my hand tighter inside my pocket, letting out slow, steady breaths as I try to remain calm. Andre looks up at the night sky, a small smudge smirk on my face. I swallow, keeping my gaze on him.

"Beautiful out tonight, isn't it?" Andre says, breaking the silence between us. I press my lips together and swallow thickly, nodding. I turn my attention towards in front of me.

"It is," I agree,letting out a shaky breath.

"You can relax you know," Andresays, glancing down at me, that smirk still on his face. "I won't bite."

"Like I said, Andre," I say flatly, yet calmly. "I don't easily trust people. I'm not stupid."

"I know," he says chirpily. "But still. No need to be so tense."

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, keeping my head straight, though my eyes flicker towards him in my peripheral.

"I'm about to change your life," he says with a wink.

He stops at an empty street shop and smirks. I frown, totally oblivious to his scheme that he has in mind, though I try to come up with different scenarios, trying to figure out what to do for an escape if need be. And reopens the door, the bell chiming as he gestures for me to go on in. I frown, hesitant for a moment, but enter nonetheless. I stand in the middle of what seems to bea café shop, though it's hard to tell because it's dark inside. However, I can still see some tables and a counter with cash registers. Other than Andre and I inside, there's no one. It's empty.

I hear a click behind me and freeze. I stand frozen in the middle of the café, shoulders hunched up to my ears, eyes widen as my back is facing Andre. I swallow, breathing fast yet quiet at the sametime. I hear footsteps behind me, my hand gripping tightly around my phone despite it shaking. I can feel him smirking behind me as he approaches me slowly, gracefully almost like a dancer. I feel a hand on my shoulder and instinctively, I flinch, letting out a gasp.

He grins wider as he appears next to me. I don't meet his eyes as he reaches for a chain above us and yanks it, flickering on the lights. Sure enough, we're in a café shop. And returns to me. He brushes back a loose, fallen auburn curl behind my ear. I try to remain calm, swallowing. I feel his hand cup my jaw, humming as he tilts his head to examine me up and down. I turn to him reluctantly, his hand still under my jaw.

"You're so beautiful, Alexander," Andre comments, his eyes roaming over me with a glazed look, that stupid smirk still on his face. I let out a shuddering breath, still gripping onto my phone in my back pocket, my heart pounding fast against my chest—so loud I can hear it in my ears. I swallow again as I square my shoulders and set my jaw, inclining my head ever so slightly, locking my eyes with his. I force a small smile to appear across my face, to hide the fear I feel inside me.

"Thank you, John," I say. He smiles wider with pressed lips when he hears his name coming from my voice. "That's very kind of you to say so."

He places a hand on my hip and I inhale sharply, stiffening against his touch, wishing John (Laurens) was here.

"Shh, no need to be so tense, Alexander," Andre whispers into my ear.

I grimace a little when he pulls back, slowly starting to pull my phone out of my pocket while trying to find a way to escape.

"What do you want?" I whisper shakily, my heart clenching.

"And you said you weren't stupid," he says with an arched eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious, Alexander?I want you."

I swallow, keeping my gaze locked with his. I press my lips together, starting to inch away from him.

"Well, too bad," I say, taking a large step back, eyeing the entrance, gripping my phone as it starts to slide up from my pocket. "I already have a boyfriend who loves me."

"I can make arrangements."

He takes a large step towards me at the same time I'm taking a large step backward towards the door. Before I could press the bar on the door to push it open, Andre grabs my wrist, gripping it tightly against his grasp. I wince, grunting as I try to wiggle my wrist out of his grasp.

"Hey!" I gasp, eyes wide as I try to wiggle my wrist free. "What are you—"

Lust fills Andre's eyes as he presses me against the wall, nearly knocking a chair off the table. I grimace, inhaling sharply with wide, blown eyes. Andre pins my wrist to my side against the wall. I grip my phone tighter, breathing sharply out my mouth, my shoulders heaving. Andre presses his body against mine, pinning my shoulder to the wall too. I grunt, trying to wiggle out of hisgrasp.

"Hey! What are you doing?! Let go! Get off of me!" I scream, grunting through clenched teeth.

"Nuh-uh-uh," Andre says, wiggling a finger in front of me. "Shh. Wouldn't want us to be noticed now do we."

"Let me go!" I grunt, still trying to wiggle myself free, eyeing the door.

I inhale a sharply as I feel his lips underneath my jaw, near my earlobe, my eyeswide as ever. I feel his lips trail down my jaw, down my neck. He starts to pull back the collar of my white dress shirt a little so he could press his lips tomy shoulder. I try to find something to knock him out with if I can't escape. There's a nearby chair next to us. Thankfully, my arm is long enough to reach it.

"Mhm, I must confess, my dear Alexander, that I love you," Andre whispers huskily, pressing his lips against mine.

I don't kiss back, but try to push him off of me. It feels like he's glued to me. I smack his arm as he still kisses me, though, like I said: I don't kiss back. After a few minutes, he pulls back, a small, lustful grin on his face. His eyes have this glazy, foggy look in them.

"Let go of me," I say sharply through ragged breaths.

"Not anytime soon," he whispers darkly. "You're mine, Hamilton. And you will be mine. Laurens doesn't deserve you, you deserve someone so much more. Someone who could give you anything you want."

He grabs my arms, pressing them against my sides as he tosses the chairs that were folded on top of the tables to the side and presses me against the table. My eyes widen, the blood in my face draining slowly as I realize what he's trying to do. He presses himself against me, causing me to wince and grunt. He leans down, his lips nearly brushing against mine.

"Look at you," Andre whispers. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight back the tears that threaten to roll down my cheeks, still breathing sharply and fast through my nose. I should have seen this coming. I should have. "So helpless beneath me. Such a fragile and delicate thing you are. A beauty." I can feel him grinevilly. "There's no one to save you now. You're completely at my disposal."

I try to bring my legs up to kick him in the stomach so he'll double over and back away, probably coughing and wheezing. But I can't. Again, he's like glued onto me. He presses his lips to mine once more, hard, but I don't kiss back. I don't care how long he keeps them on there, I won't kiss back. I won't betrayJohn.

My heart aches at the thought of him. Jack...

I crack open one eye, peering around me as best I can while still laying on top of the table. I spot the nearby chair that I found earlier. Thankfully, I'm still able to reach it. While Andre is distracted, I grab the leg of the chair with my right hand, curling my fingers tightly around the wood and scoot thechair towards us as quietly as I can as to not cause any suspicion towards Andre.

Andre gives me quick pecks now, but again, I don't kiss back. When he parts his lips from mine, our noses barely touching, he grins and traces the curve of my lips with his finger lightly, towards my jaw. Andre hums with satisfactory and looksat me dead in the eye. He brushes back another fallen curl behind my ear and leans down to press another kiss to my lips. But before he could do so, however, I lift the chair up and whack him against the side of his head with the chair. He grunts and makes an "Oough" sound as he stumbles off of me, blinking his wide eyes rapidly, trying to get the dizziness out of his vision probably.

I grin with triumph as I sit myself up slowly, propping myself up on the table with one elbow while my hand still grips the chair's leg. I watch, terrified, as Andre stumbles backwards from me, clutching the side of his head, breathing sharply.

I stand up from the table, in total shock as I shakily stumble backwards towards the bathroom, breathing sharply and quickly. Andre places his hand against the wall to catch his balance while still clutching ontothe side of his head and his eyes are still squeezed shut. He blinks them open, gasping and lowers his hand from his head. My violet eyes widen when I see a dark red stain on his palm.

Andre scowls, his mouth twisting downwards and his nose scrunching up as he narrows his eyes at me. He growls behind closed lipslike a dog and saunters towards me. Instinctively, I stumble backwards again, tripping over my own feet as I head towards thebathroom, still holding onto the chair. Andre still saunters slowly towards me, like a cat.

"I see," Andre chuckles darkly, shaking his head. "I see how this is going to go."

"Do you?" I blurt out, my voice trembling despite my efforts to remain calm as I back up to the bathroom. I raise an eyebrow, inclining my head to meet his eyes. "You're sick, you know that?"

"Oh," Andre says, his eyes widening and he places his free hand to his heart. "Alexander, you wound me."

"I don't want anything from you, John Andre," I say. "I won't. I'm loyal to the ones I love. To my family. To my friends."

"Are you now?" Andre laughs. "You're pretty, Alexander, I'll give you that. But I will make you mine." A pause. "I've been in love with you since that day on the bleachers and since that day, since you told me you were taken, I longed for you. I dreamt about our future together. Dreamt about our dates, about your smile and laugh, about our first kiss, our first 'I love yous', our first time together, our trials and errors as our relationship grew. I dreamt about the day I would propose to you—"

My breath hitches and he smiles, white teeth flashing like a lightning strike.

"I dreamt about our wedding, about our future lives together, raising our children together whether that'd be surrogate or adoption—if you want children, of course." Another pause. "I could give you everything you wanted, Alexander. A family, money and wealth. But no. Laurens just had to walk in my way, didn't he?"

I remain silent. I press my back against the bathroom door, watching him as he slowly approaches me, that stupid sly grin stillon his face.

"I barely know you," I whisper, keeping my eyes on his, trying to remain calm. I swallow, licking my dry, chapped lips. "I never had the same mutual feeling or whatever towards you. My heart lies with Laurens and it will always be with his. I love him, no matter what stupid, reckless things he does whether that'd be accident or on purpose. We'd always find our way back to each other." A breath. "I have never felt so loved in my whole life. Laurens makes me feel loved, makes me feel worthy, makes me feel like...like...I don't know. He makes me a whole different person. Nothing you do, John Andre, will make me change. I will forever love John Laurens." A pause. I lock my eyes with his once more as I let out a shuddering breath. "I don't love you, Andre."

Silence.

That's all there is. Silence. Well, if you don't count my steady breathing.

I'm still pressed against the bathroom door, my free hand on the doorknob behind me in case I need to stumble inside. Andre's eyes glow red, as red as his suit, and he growls. I swallow, suddenly wishing I hadn't said that. He clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides, trying to control his anger and disappointment. I chew on the inside of my cheek, bracing myself.

Suddenly, Andre screams with frustration and swings his clenched fist around to punch the wall beside my head, right just above my ear. I stiffen, eyes wide and breath held. My heart pounds loudly and fast against my chest, I can hear it in my ears likegunshots popping off.

Andre takes one good look at me and smacks his lips against mine, growling like a wild animal in the forest. I hiss sharply through my nose with surprise. He kisses me fast and hard, over and over again. I swat at his shoulder, at his bicep, trying to tell him to get offof me. But unfortunately, that won't work.

Andre starts to slide my plum colored suit off of me and I try to scream for him to get off, for help, for anything. I can feel him grinning against the kiss—of course, I don't kiss back. Andre's cold lips move from mine, down my jaw, down the sideof my neck and onto my shoulder, letting his lips linger there for a few seconds before moving to the spot.

I try to bring my knees up again so I could hopefully kick him in the stomach like I tried too before but again, he's pinned me to the door, his legs pressed against mine to keep me from doing so. I'm totally helpless. That is...until I remember I still have the chair in my hand.

Grinning slightly against his lips, I lift the chair and smack the splat part of the chair against his head. Andre whips his head off to the side, his eyes snapping wide open, dazed and confused and shocked. I let out a gasp as I fumble for the doorknob to the bathroom, anxiously trying to twist it open.

Andre clutches the side of his head which is starting to bleed a bit more. He growls with frustration, trying to catch his balance. His eyes blink fast as his breathing quickens. I watch, terrified, as he hits the table with his side, an arm clutching around his face, his back facing me.

He sinks to his knees.

And falls sideways to the cold, tiled floor.

Now there's nothing but quiet. Just total quiet.

I stare at Andre's unconscious body before me, eyes wide with shock and fear. I stand there for a few moments, letting the shock sink in. That's when I feel the first few tears slip down my cheeks. I let out a choked sob, clamping my handover my mouth in hopes it will stifle it somewhat.

I swing the bathroom door open and slam it shut behind me, locking it behind me. I stare at the golden doorhandle before me, letting my fingers hover over it fora few seconds, trying to calm myself down. I bite my wobbly lip as more tearsslip down my cheeks uncontrollably. I back away from the door, watch the doorhandle. I let out another choked sob and a few more and a few more until I'm actually sobbing.

I press my back against the door, sliding down it, closing my eyes gently as I try to calm myself, trying to remember my breathing practicesand whatnot. I fumble for my phone from my pocket, praying it hasn't cracked or anything like that during that ruckus. I let out a sigh of relief when the screen is still intact.No cracks or scratches in sight. I click my phone on, quickly typing in my passcode with trembly fingers. I dial Lafayette's number quickly and press the "CALL" button on the screen and prop the phone against my ear and in between my shoulder.

"Come on, come on Gil," I whimper, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. "Come on. Pick up. Pick up. Please..."

"This is Monsieur Lafayette, I'm sorry but I'm not able to answer your call at the moment, please leave the message after the beep."

I grimace and quickly hang up. Lafayette's voicemail. He's probably asleep in the car, wouldn't be surprised if he was or he could be inside the Schuyler Mansion himself either looking for meor enjoying himself with dances and food and overall having fun.

"Damnit," I whisper through clenched teeth and picked up the only other person I can trust right now. I dial John's number, fingers still shaky and my teeth chattering with fear. I press my phone against my ear. After a few rings, John finally picks up.

"Alex?" John says. I let out a sigh of relief, followed by a sob.

"Oh, Jack. Jack, please...I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Jack. I love you. I love you!"

I can feel John frowning with confusion and worry on the other end of the line. "I love you too?" John says questionably.

"Alex...what's wrong? I thought you were at the ball with Eliza?"

"I-I was...but J-John A-Andre—" I wince at his name and whimper, trying so hard to control my endless sobs— "h-he tricked me. He told me he wanted to take me on a walk around Albany, because I haven't seen the place and...and he...he..."

"He what, Alex? Shh, it's okay. I'm not mad. You can tell me," he assures me, his voice, soft and sweet and gentle. Kind. Loving.

"Oh, John. I'm so bloody stupid! I can't believe I fell for it!" I cry.

"Alex, breathe. You need to breathe, okay. Talk to me. What did he do?"

I swallow, squeezing my eyes shut. "Just know that I love you and...and I didn't kiss back." I can feel his eyes widening a little and I can picture his face paling. I smile a little fondly at his protectiveness. I'm now beginning to calm down. But slowly.

I frown.

"He tricked me..." I say. "He tricked me. H-He told me he wanted to go on a walk around Albany and show me the place...only to...to..."

"To what?" John says.

I swallow. "He touched me, John...he touched me..."

"Touched you...?" I nod, letting out a soft, "Mhm." "H-How...? If you don't mind me asking...?"

I let out a shuddering breath, shoulders shaking. "He had me pinned in several places, against a table, against a wall I think, against the bathroom door which is where I am right now. He...Andre...he kissed me and tried too..."

"Tried what?" John prompts.

"Tried to make love to me basically," I explain. "He...He tried to make me fall in love with him and was so angry and frustrated when I told him I didn't love him and...he...hetried to...I don't know right now, Jack. I don't want to talk about it. I just want you. Please...I don't know when he'll wake up so please...hurry." A pause. "I'm scared."

John lets out a shuddering breath. "Okay. Okay. I'm coming. Just breathe, breathe my dear boy. Where are you? Do you know where you are?"

I sniff. "Some...some café shop. I don't know which one. But you'll know I'm in that one because the lights are on inside unlike the others."

"Okay. Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you, my dear boy."

I laugh softly through my nose and rest my head against the door, staring up at the ceiling, finally calming down.

"I love you too, my dear Jack."

He hangs up and I stare at my phone in my hand for a little bit before tucking it back inside my pocket. With a breath of relief, I rest my head against the door, letting my arms slack against my sides.

I close my eyes and into the endless void of darkness.

Chapter Text

I SQUINT AT the brightness shining above me, making the darkness seem a little red. Igroan, grimacing as I tilt my head side to side, breathing in the fresh airaround me and feeling my surroundings. I feel something touching my forehead,something damp—probably a dishcloth or a washcloth with water in it or the backof a sweaty hand? I can't tell.

I feel something soft around me like silk,something crinkling as I shift a little, groaning as I feel a raging headache comingon. I hear faint noises coming around me, like murmurs or whispers. Voices. They're voices. They sound anxious and worried. I feel someone clutching ontomy hand, squeezing it and mumbling desperate, pleading prayers to himself. I squeeze back, instantly knowing who this hand belongs too.

"Alex..." he gasps, his voice full of relief. I hear a chair scoot back. He's standing, probably hovering over me. "Alexander?"

"Jack...?" I croak, my voice raw and I can barely hear myself.

"Thank God," John breathes, slumping against his chair and tossing his head back as he closes his eyes tightly. He clutches onto my hand tighter. "Thank God."

"Mon Dieu!" says a familiar French accented voice next to me. Lafayette... "Mon Dieu! Oh, petite lion! You're alive! Oh, mon dieu!"

"Gil?" I croak, grimacing and hissing through clenched teeth as I slowly try to prop myself up.

"I'm here, little bro," Lafayette gasps, clutching onto my other hand. "I'm right here. You're okay."

I slowly crack my eyes open, blinking and grimacing at the brightness above me. Once I'm adjusted to the light, I crane my neck over to the left to find the love of my life sitting next to me with my hand in his, clutching it for dear life. His beautiful sky-blue eyes are wide with relief and he relaxes immediately. His honey-blonde hair in his usual loose, low ponytail draping over the back of his neck. I smile softly, squeezing his hand tighter, brushing my thumb over his knuckles.

"Alexander!" John gasps, blinking relieved and happy tears out of his eyes. "Thank God! How're youfeeling, Alex?"

"Hey, Jack," I croak. "Where am I?"

"You're in Long Island Hospital," John answers. "It was the closest hospital we could find nearby when I found you unconscious in the bathroom at that café shop."

My breath hitches, eyes widening as I remember what happened. I scramble up, wincing as I try to prop myself up against the mountain of pillows behind me, the bedsheet crinkling. I glance around the room frantically, searching for Andre and the chair to whack him with again, my breathing quickening. But Lafayette and John's hands press against my shoulders, pushing me back down onto the reclined hospital bed, ordering meto lie back down and to breathe. That I'm alright and safe.

"What happened?" I rasp out. "Where's Andre? Is he—"

"Alive, and he's being treated as well," says another voice from at the foot of the hospital bed.

I turn to find George standing in front of the bed with a hand on the rail and Martha standing beside him with a relieved look on her face. She smiles warmlyat me and I couldn't resist. I return the smile.

"Dad..." I breathe with relief, locking eyes with George and then turn over to Martha, "Mom..."

They nod, smiling down at me. I frown again.

"What happened?" I ask.

"You were..." John begins shakily. He clutches onto my hand tighter and swallows. "You were r-r..."

My heart melts. I know exactly what he's going to say.

"You were...I don't want to say it...Alex," John sighs, pressing my knuckles to his forehead. I stare at him. He frowns apologetically. "I couldn't tell exactly if you were by the looks of it when I finally arrived but judging by how you looked, and how the place was such a mess when I arrived, it looked like you. I couldn't be sure but yeah. And then I found you unconscious on in the bathroom and...I carried you out and took you to the hospital immediately. I knew you were probably going to be fine but still. Just to be sure."

"I'm so sorry, little lion," Lafayette whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead and squeezing my hand. I notice small tears slip down his cheeks. His voice cracks as he speaks, his eyes shine with guilt. "I couldn't protect you..." A pause. "Like I promised I would..."

A pause. I shake my head and sit up a little, wincing and hissing sharply as hot, searing pain soars through my sides. I relax a little into the pillows and lock eyes with my brother. I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"No," I say. "No, Gil. I'm sorry. I turned you down. I should've...I should've allowed you in with me. I just...I just didn't want you to embarrass me. I'm sorry Gil. I didn't mean to hurt you or anything..."

"No, no," Lafayette assures me, shushing me as he combs my auburn hair out of my eyes. "Don't. It's alright. I promise."

"Alex!" a feminine voice wails. I frown, confused but instantly smile wide when I see Eliza burst through the hospital door, fear and worry shining through her eyes. Peggy and Angelica followed close by her. She flings her arms around me tightly, then pulling back to cup my face in her hands, squishing my cheeks together. "Alex! Thank God! I heard about what happened! Are you alright?! Are you hurt?! I'm so sorry, Alex!"

"Guys, calm down," I say through alaugh. "I'm fine, I promise. Just a little tired and still in shock."

"You were out for days!" Peggy says, her hand on my shoulder. "We were worried sick! We couldn't be let in to see you until you woke up. According to the nurses and stuff, 'Only family members'."

I chuckle which then turns into a harsh cough. John squeezes my head and pressesa kiss just above my brow. I smile softly nonetheless.

"It's good to have you back, kid," Angelica says, patting my other shoulder while standing beside Lafayette. I smile up at her and nod agreeingly.

"It's good to be back."

A pause.

I glance up and look at all of them.

"Thank you," I say, meeting everyone's eyes around me. "All of you. For, one, putting up with me—" A few laughs. "—and two, being there for me. And being my family."

John smiles wide and stands up, "Oh, Alex!"

He bends down over the bed's railing and presses a slow, passionate kiss to my lips. This time, I do kiss back. I kiss him for all my life's worth. I kiss him as if it were my last day here on Earth. I cup both of his cheeks in my hands, pulling him down while I sink a little further into the pillows, my red, auburn hair falling around me.

After a few minutes, he pulls away, pressing his forehead against mine with the bridges of our noses touching and the tips of our noses brushing against each other's. Both of us smiling and laughing. John flutters his beautiful diamond blue eyes and brushes a lock of auburn hair behind my ear. I lean into his touch, pressing another kiss to his lips. His smile suddenly fades, which causes mine to fade as well. I look up into hiseyes and tilt my head worriedly. He looks hesitant. Terrified.

"What?" I whisper, combing a few strands of honey-blonde hair out of his face and behind his ear. "What is it, Jack?"

He swallows before lifting his gaze up to everyone's. He presses his lips together.

"Um...guys? Do you mind if I have some time Alex? Privately?" John asks.

The group all frowns, glancing at one another but nod nonetheless and one by one, exit the hospital room. George was the last one out. He eyes me for a long moment before finally closing the door behindhim so now it's only John and I in the room.

John takes one good look at me and sighs heavily, flopping himself back down on his chair. He scoots himself forward while still clutching onto my hand. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles.

"Jack? What's wrong?" I say, cupping his cheek and stroking his cheekbone with my thumb, hoping it would provide some relaxation or comfort. John swallows, closing his eyes and lets out a long, slow breath. He reopens those beautiful baby blues and locks his with mine.

"I'm leaving for South Carolina..." John whispers, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

"What?" I gasp, eyes wide.

John sighs again. "I'm leaving...for South Carolina..."

"Yeah, I heard that, but why?!" I snap, suddenly angry.

John winces. "Alexander, please. This...this isn't easy for me to tell you, okay? But it's better if I tell you now or otherwise, I won't tell you until later and I don't want to do that." A pause. "I just got the message today, okay? I'm letting you know first..."

"John...? What...what are you talking about?" I say.

"I...I..." he gives me one good look and swallowing, whispers, "I got enlisted..."

Silence.

"Enlisted?" I say. "What—"

"I just got the email today...while you were still asleep...and..." He closes his eyes once and breaths out slowly before reopening them again. "I'm...I'm being enlisted into the military..."

Silence.

That's all there is...is complete silence.

I stare at him, my breath caught in my throat as I search his face, for any sign that he may be lying to me or that I misheard something or dreaming... but...I don't see anything. Then, ofall things that have happened, I burst out laughing. I double over, slapping the rail next to me and laugh.

"That's funny, John. That's really funny," I giggle, jabbing a finger at him.

John purses his lips together and looks down. He doesn't advert his gaze. My laughter dies down.

"You're joking...right?" I say.

He swallows and shakes his head side to side, his blue eyes brimming with unshedtears. His chin wobbles. Silence. More stares. More silence.

"You're...leaving...?" I say. "You're leaving me...?"

My voice cracks. He shakes his head, gripping my hand tighter. "I'm not leaving you, Alexander. I'm joining the military." A pause. "My home, Charleston, is going to be under attack and I can't let that happen. I have to go, Alexander. I have to go and fight for my home..."

I shake my head frantically, breathing faster, sharper as I listen to his explanation. After all I've been through...after all he's been through...after all we've been through...he's...leaving me? He promised me he wouldn't leave me. He promised...

"You promised..." I mumble, staring at my fingers on my lap. I blink my eyes. "You promised..."

"I know, I know, shh...I'm sorry, my dear boy. But...I have to go. For my home. For you..."

"No...no...no..." I choke up a sob, biting my lower lip to stifle it. Tears start to slip and there's nothing I can do to hold them back. I shake my head, the thought of my Laurens on the battlefield runs through my mind, the thought of him...of him dying...

"Alex, please," John says, his voice cracking with emotion. He stands up and crawl in the bed, curling next to me and wrapping his strong arms around my small, fragile frame. I can't hold it back anymore. The thought of my Jack on the battlefield ground with blood surrounding him plays in my head squeezes at my chest. "Shh, shh...don't cry, my dear boy. Please..."

I let out a scream of both frustration and fear and bury my face into his chest, just underneath his chin, clutching onto his shirt as I let out loud, racked sobs.

"Why?!" I scream into his chest, mixed with a sob. "Why?! Why did it have to be you?!"

"Alexander...shh...shh..." he whispers, his nose buried into my russet curls. "I'm so sorry..."

A pause.

"I want you to move on."

I look up at him, confused. Hesmiles softly, sniffling as he wipes away the tears rolling down my freckled dusted cheeks.

"I want you to move on," he continues. "Move on if I don't come back. Move on and be happy, Alexander. I want you, if I don't...you know...I want you to find someone who will love you as much as I have..."

I shake my head, gasping with my shoulders heaving up and down.

"I want you to go to college, fall in love again, get married and raise a family..."

"No. No!" I snap. "I won't let you!"

"Alex—"

"No! I won't let my boyfriend come home in a box!"

That struck him hard. I can tell. He inhales sharply, squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw, narrowing his eyes at me and pinching his lips together. He swallows again and sighs, pressing a long, loving kiss to my lips. He breaks the kiss first and presses his forehead against mine, our noses touching, our lips brushing against each other's, both of our eyes closed while Johnclutches onto my hand. I lift my free hand up and cradle his cheek, stroking his cheekbone lovingly.

"I won't," John whispers, pressing another kiss to my lips. "I promise you. I'll come home to you." He dives in for another kiss and I swear to God I've never felt so helpless.

"Promise?" I whimper as we pull away, our foreheads pressing against each other's once more.

He inhales sharply, looks at me dead in the eye, and nods once. Sharp.

"I promise."

Chapter Text

I STAND IN front of John Laurens at the train station as he's about to board the train for South Carolina. It's just after Thanksgiving and two weeks since the incident with John Andre. I'm slowly recovering and healing but overall, besides the fact that John's about to go into war...I'm alright. I can only pray for his safety and that he doesn't do anything stupid and most importantly, that he comes homes to me. To us. To my family. To his family. To our family.

The train behind John still stays still as it waits for other officers and recruits to hop on aboard. John grunts as he shrugs his military bag into a comfortable position on his shoulder. He turns to our family and friends behind him.

John walks to Meade first, clapping a hand on his shoulder before Meade engulfs John in a tight hug, patting each other's backs. Meade says something I couldn't hear sternly to John, who laughs and nods. John fixes his military cap as he walks over towards Tilghman, who stands next to Meade in the line. John smiles down affectionately at his friend while Tilghman wills himself not to cry. He keeps blinking his eyes and occasionally sniffs when John approaches him. John whispers something, a reminder, a moment of encouragement but whatever it is, made Tilghman even more emotional than he was before. John laughs heartily before embracing his friend in a tight hug. The two stay there long than I'd like them to be but I understand. Tilghman pats John on the shoulder before finally releasing him. He walks over to Tallmadge, then Warren, then Hale. Then Peggy, next is Eliza, and then Angelica. My heart races as he comes closer towards me.

Lafayette stands next to me with an arm around my shoulder, rubbing my bicep up and down comfortingly. I couldn't help but smile proudly at John, wearing that military uniform and fighting for his country, for his home. For me.

Martha, my adoptive mother not Manning or his sister, comes next in line. Before John could utter a word, Martha pulls him down into a tight hug, sobbing with pride and anxiousness into his shoulder, thanking him over and over for what he's done for me and for making me happy, etcetera and reminds him to come home alive to us and that he's part of the family now. Martha also reminds John that he already has hers and George's blessing for whenever John proposes to me, which causes me to blush deeply, if and when he does. George is next in line. John swallows nervously as he meets George's intense gaze, though to my surprise, George smiles. He clasps hands with John and shakes his hand twice before pulling him into a tight embrace. John stands there for a moment, shocked but returns the hug nonetheless. I couldn't help but laugh to myself, blinking emotional tears away.

After they pull apart, George nods once, smiling proudly and with pride as he pats John's shoulders once more. John then moves to Lafayette, sharing their possibly final goodbyes and then to Mulligan before he now stands in front of me. I stare blankly at the letters on his breast pocket that reads: LAURENS.

I smile softly, tracing the letters with my finger lightly before looking up into John's beautiful sky-blue eyes. He smiles down at me, combing a few russet curls out of my violet eyes. He tilts his head to get better look at me and laughs quietly. I find myself laughs as well. I place both of my hands on his chest, staring at the empty space between my hands before looking back up at him again.

"You'll come home to me?" I whisper, cupping his jaw with my right hand. He leans into my touch and nods. "I'll come home to you, Alexander. I promise."

I couldn't help but laugh again. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Laurens."

He smiles and angles his face a little, lowering my hand from his cheek before leaning down to presses his lips against mine. And kisses me. Instinctively, I loop my arms around his neck while he pulls me closer to him with his arms around the small of my back, our chests nearly touching. After a few seconds, we unfortunately have to break apart for air. John presses his forehead against mine again and we stay there like that for several moments until the train whistles, reminding us that it's still there and that it's about to leave.

John sighs disappointingly and pulls back, standing up straighter. I still have my hands on his chest as I stand on my toes to press another kiss to his lips once more.

"You better come home to me, Lieutenant Colonel Laurens," I whisper against his lips. He chuckles, opening his eyes to lock with mine. "Write to me every day."

"I will. You have my word, my dear boy," he says, pressing one more kiss to my lips before lowering me down and heading towards the train that's heading for South Carolina.

"Hey!" I call out before John could step on the train. He turns around over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. "See you later, alligator?"

He smiles and winks at me.

"After a while, crocodile."

I laugh through my nose, my lips pinched in a tight smile. Lafayette wraps his arm around me again, pulling me closer to him as he rubs my arm up and down comfortingly. We stand in front of the train with other families nearby as John climbs up the train steps. We watch him walk through the crowded aisle on the trains, mumbling apologies as he tries to find a booth to sit down on, maneuvering through other soldiers and officers. He finds a seat and plops himself down, looking out the window, directly at me. He smiles and mouths, "I love you."

"I love you too," I mouth back. The train whistles with the final members climbing on board. We watch the doors slide shut and the train's wheels starting to churn and huff and puff as it starts down the tracks out of the tunnel. We each give John a salute as John's window passes by each and every one of us. John salutes back, keeping his salute until he vanishes into the light.

***

When I get home, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I feel a hand clamp on my shoulder and look up to find George standing next to me. He smiles down at me.

"You alright, Alexander?" George asks.

I let out a breath and nod. "Yeah...just...I'm happy for him, you know? I mean, he's always wanted to be on the battlefield of glory. It runs in his family. But...but I already miss him and I'm terrified he'll do something stupid to get himself killed. You know how reckless he can be, Dad."

George laughs, patting my shoulder and nodding in agreement.

"Yes, I do know. A stubborn one that boy is."

George looks down at me. "Why don't you get some rest, son? I'll have someone come get you when dinner's ready."

I nod. "Okay, Dad."

George smiles again and presses a kiss to my temple before ushering me up the steps. I grip the stairwell as I walk up, rounding the corner when I reach the top and straight into my bedroom. When I reach my bedroom, I swing open the door and let it shut on its own behind me. I stand in my bedroom for a few moments, scanning the place. I let out a long, heavy sigh out my mouth as I wrap my arms around my small frame and rest my head against my door, closing my eyes.

"Come home to me, Jack," I whisper.

I finally manage to force my numb legs to move towards my desk. Perhaps some writing will help clear my mind. I pull out my chair and slide down in it, scooting myself towards my desk. I turn on my computer, plug in my earbuds and pull up Spotify. I make sure to have my water bottle nearby and my phone as well. I pull up Google Docs to start working on my novel once more but frown when I see something in my peripheral on my wall next to me.

I glance at it and grin. It's the love letter Meade showed me that night, where John truly confessed his love for me. I stare at it for quite some time, reading John's words over and over again until an idea suddenly clicks. I slap my laptop lid closed, the music still playing in my ears as I push my laptop towards the back of my desk. I grab a random sheet of paper nearby and fumble for a pen. Grinning, I click the pen and begin to write:

My dear Laurens,

Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish my dear Laurens, it might be in my power by actions rather than words to convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that tell you bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others. But as you have done it, and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on the condition for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me.

I have received your two letters from Philadelphia the other from Chester. I am pleased with your success, so far, I hope favorable omens that precede your application to the Assembly may have as favorable an issue, provided the situation's affairs should require it which I fear will be the case. But for your country's sake and my own, I wish the enemy may be gone from Georgia before you arrive and that you may be obligated to share the fortunes of your old friends. Indeed, your ideas upon this occasion seem not to have their wonted accuracy; and you have scruples, in great measure without foundation. You had as much the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, as any officer in the line—your receiving a commission as Lieutenant Colonel from the date of that appointment, does not in the least injure or interfere with one of them; unless by virtue of it you are introduced into a particular regiment in violation of the right of succession; which is not the case at present neither is it a necessary consequence. This carries with it an air of preference, which, though we can all truly say, we love your character, and admire your military merit, cannot fail to give some of us uneasy sensations. But in this, my Dear J I wish you to understand me well. I anticipate by sympathy the pleasure you must feel from the sweet converse of your dearer self in the enclosed letters. I hope they may be recent.

And Now my Dear as we are upon the subject of wife, I empower and command you to get me one in Carolina. Such a wife as I want will, I know, be difficult to be found, but if you succeed, it will be the stronger proof of your zeal and dexterity. Take her description—She must be young, handsome (I lay most stress upon a good shape) sensible (a little learning will do), well bred (but she must have an aversion to the word ton) chaste and tender (I am an enthusiast in my notions of fidelity and fondness) of some good nature, a great deal of generosity (she must neither love money nor scolding, for I dislike equally a termagant and an œconomist). In politics, I am indifferent what side she may be of; I think I have arguments that will easily convert her to mine. As to religion a moderate stock will satisfy me. She must believe in god and hate a saint. But as to fortune, the larger stock of that the better. You know my temper and circumstances and will therefore pay special attention to this article in the treaty. Though I run no risk of going to Purgatory for my avarice; yet as money is an essential ingredient to happiness in this world—as I have not much of my own and as I am very little calculated to get more either by my address or industry; it must needs be, that my wife, if I get one, bring at least a sufficiency to administer to her own extravagancies. You will be pleased to recollect in your negotiations that I have no invincible antipathy to the maidenly beauties & that I am willing to take the trouble of them upon myself. If you should not readily meet with a lady that you think answers my description you can only advertise in the public papers and doubt less you will hear of many competitors for most of the qualifications required, who will be glad to become candidates for such a prize as I am.

After reviewing what I have written, I am ready to ask myself what could have put it into my head to hazard this Jeu de follie. Do I want a wife? No—I have plagues enough without desiring to add to the number that greatest of all; and if I were silly enough to do it, I should take care how I employ a proxy. Did I mean to show my wit? If I did, I am sure I have missed my aim. Did I only intend to frisk? In this I have succeeded, but I have done more. I have gratified my feelings, by lengthening out the only kind of intercourse now in my power with my friend. Adieu

Yours,

A. Hamilton