(Late August 2015)
ONE
"George!" Hamilton threw open the door to Washington's study and waved a letter at him. "Why wasn't John chosen as my roommate? We both requested that."
Washington took the letter and slipped on his reading classes. He had to smile at the name of Hamilton's roommate: Aaron Burr. He had seen the name on many of his class lists and learned that the boy was also an orphan and had been raised by a poor uncle. "Probably because the school would prefer you to make new friends and not let freshmen's romantically involved room together."
"How would they have known?" Hamilton leaned over Washington's desk. "Did you tell someone? We're not dating."
Washington removed his glasses. "Then please explain to me your intentions with Mr. Laurens."
Hamilton shrugged. "Enjoying each other? I dunno. Neither of us has asked the other out. I don't want a boyfriend."
"I see. Still, I think it will be good for you to share a room with someone else and focus on your schoolwork."
"I want to focus on Laurens' ass." Hamilton gave a saucy grin.
"Alexander!" Washington shook his head. "This is why you worry me. College is very important, Alex, you need to take it seriously."
Hamilton's smirk vanished. "I know, sir. I won't disappoint you."
"Good. You'll have to go a few days early for orientation. Mom and I will take you and Laf."
"Thank you."
Burr packed all his belonging into two boxes. Uncle Timothy promised to help him take the boxes on the bus in the morning. For now, he'd gone out, and Burr left the apartment himself.
He heard a knock on the door and frowned. Someone to collect money from his uncle? He peered apprehensively out the peephole.
Burr threw the door open. "Sadie!" He yanked his sister in a hug.
Sadie squeezed him tight. "My little teddy bear. Y'all ready for tomorrow?"
"I think so."
"I bet this will make you certain." She pulled an old iPhone out of her purse. "My friend got me a new one. You're gonna need something to keep in touch with me."
Burr took the phone. "Shit, Sadie, this is awesome!" The screen was cracked but didn't hinder its use.
"Good!" Sadie kissed his forehead. "My number is in there. You text me, alright, teddy bear? I wanna know you're safe and learning stuff."
"I will."
Sadie put her hands on her hips and watched him. "You find yourself a girl, too, alright? Get someone to take care of you."
"I'll try." Burr pocketed the phone. "Thank you."
Sadie crushed him in another hug. "Don't tell Uncle, he'll ask you to sell it," she murmured in his ear. "You do you, teddy bear, and make me proud."
Burr held tight to his sister. "I will."
Jefferson scanned his room for any last items he needed to pack. He had stayed home his freshman year but talked his mom into letting him move into a dorm for his sophomore year. He needed space, needed to become his own person.
The door behind him creaked open. "Thomas?"
"Hey, Jem," Jefferson said without looking back.
"Will you put this in your dorm?"
This time Jefferson turned around and smiled at the stuffed sheepdog Madison held. "I'd be honored." He lifted Madison in his arms and held him tight.
Madison rested his head on Jefferson's shoulders and tears burned his eyes. It was bad enough he had to survive his senior year of high school without any friends but Jefferson leaving home—no longer a mile down the road—was a kick to the gut. He snuffled and tightened his grip on Jefferson's neck.
"I'll be twenty minutes away," Jefferson murmured and stroked his back. "I'll visit on the weekends and during the week when I can." He closed his own eyes. Shit, why was this so hard? Nothing was going to change. It's not like they'd seen each other every day last year when he was still at home. "I'm never going to leave you," he whispered.
TWO
Hamilton chewed on his fingernails as the Washington's drove him and Lafayette to college. Hamilton's belongings were stuffed in the trunk, nearly four times as much stuff as he'd arrived with less than a year ago.
Washington parked his Cadillac near Hamilton's dorm and went with him to administration to get his key. Lafayette went with Mrs. Washington.
Hamilton stood behind Washington as they waited in line. He'd been cocky and annoying for the past two weeks in excitement at getting out on his own. Now that it was a reality, though, he wished he could return to the familiarity and safety of the Washington's Victorian home.
"Next."
Washington pulled Hamilton forward.
"Name."
"Um, Alexander Hamilton," he mumbled.
The woman handed him a folder and keys. "Your roommate just signed in a little bit ago."
Hamilton forced a smile.
Washington led the way back to the dorm and Hamilton unlocked the hall door. He found his room on the first floor. His and Burr's names were written on construction paper and taped to the door.
Hamilton looked to Washington. "Do I knock?"
Washington tried the door and found it unlocked. He tapped on the door and pushed it open.
Aaron Burr looked up from making his bed. "You must be Alexander?"
"Yeah." Hamilton chewed his nails again.
Washington touched Hamilton's shoulder. "I'll start bringing your things in."
"Isn't he one of the new law teachers?" Burr asked as Washington left.
"Yes," Hamilton said. "Are you in law, too?"
Burr nodded. "Is the left side of the room okay for you?"
Hamilton glanced at his half of the room. The dorm was small and meager with two twin-size beds and attached wardrobes and desks. "Yeah."
"So is the teacher your dad?" Burr asked. "I thought his name was Washington."
"No." He couldn't explain further and was given a reprieve as Washington returned with a few boxes.
"Help me get the rest, Alex."
Hamilton eagerly followed him back to the car.
They made another trip after that one. Mrs. Washington and Lafayette-after getting Lafayette checked in-followed them to check out Hamilton's dorm.
Burr had disappeared, for which Hamilton was thankful. He didn't need Burr asking who Lafayette was, too.
"This is very nice," Mrs. Washington cooed. She found the box of bed linens. "I'll get your bed tidy for you, dear."
Hamilton let her have at it while he and Lafayette hung up his clothes. Washington gathered the boxes as they were emptied and made sure Hamilton had his schedule for orientation. He would be around himself meeting students and getting his classroom finished.
Room put together, silence fell over the new family as they realized it was time to part.
Mrs. Washington hugged Hamilton. "Do come home for dinner soon, dear."
Hamilton hugged her back and struggled to hold back the tears burning his eyes. It was stupid. He was only a twenty-minute drive away and could visit home anytime. But she had done so much for him and he wished he had been able to live at her house longer, even while knowing he didn't want to live at home while in college.
"I will," Hamilton whispered. "Thank you for everything, Mom." He squeezed his eyes shut as the tears leaked free.
Mrs. Washington hugged him tighter.
"Come on, dear," said Washington gently. He handed his wife a tissue. He gave Hamilton a strong hug. "Don't be a stranger now that you're eighteen," he commanded. "I'm paying for part of your education so I still own part of your ass."
"George, be nice!" Mrs. Washington scolded as she dabbed her eyes.
Hamilton smiled and was glad of the distraction. "I will continue to seek you out whenever I need something," he teased.
Washington patted his shoulder. "I don't doubt that. Take care, Alex."
Lafayette gave Hamilton a quick hug. "See you around, little lion."
"Yup." Hamilton followed them the few steps to the door and waved as they headed down the hallway. He closed the door and sucked in a shaky breath. He'd been on his own plenty before, it felt like, but this time he was an actual adult and truly responsible for himself, not just neglected. He didn't know what to do. He only wanted to cry.
"I don't like it," Madison commented as soon as he walked into Jefferson's dorm. "You should move back home."
Jefferson sighed and regretted bringing Madison to see his new dorm. Madison had spent the drive telling him horror stories about living in a dorm and how noisy and dirty and unsafe it would be. How he'd have a terrible roommate who would steal from him.
"It's not that bad," Jefferson said.
"It smells funny."
Jefferson sighed again. "Alright, so you've seen my dorm. Want to see more of campus or—"
"I'm hungry."
"Awesome." Jefferson pulled him out of his dorm and for once was glad of how often Madison wanted to eat. "We could be roommates next—"
"No." Madison hurried ahead of Jefferson to get outside. "I hate this. Dorms are dumb." He skidded to a stop in front of one door. "Alex is in your hall?"
"Dunno if it's the same one you know," Jefferson mumbled, although he knew it was. He didn't want Madison to force an introduction. "Food?"
Madison resumed his speed walking to leave.
THREE
On Saturday, Hamilton let Lafayette into the common area. An orientation outing was scheduled for the courthouse that morning and both had signed up for it.
Lafayette touched Hamilton's arm and indicated to the young black guy seated on a couch across the room. "Dare you to go sit on his lap and kiss him."
Hamilton stared at Lafayette. "Why in the world would I do that? He'd kill me."
"Nah. Come on, it'd be funny." He poked Hamilton's back. "Go on."
"No, Laf." Hamilton smacked his hand. "Why would I?"
"Because I dared you." Lafayette resumed poking him. "Do it. Don't be a wuss. Do it."
"Fine," Hamilton grumbled.
Even sitting down, Hamilton could tell the guy was tall, his long legs stretched out in front of the couch. He had a crinkly afro and long fingers that tapped quickly on his phone.
He drew his legs back as Hamilton approached, expecting him to walk by.
Hamilton dropped in his lap instead but didn't even get a chance to lean closer for a kiss before the guy shoved him off. "What the fuck, man?" he demanded, cheeks red.
Hamilton kept his feet and extended his hand. "Alexander Hamilton."
"Get away from me."
Hamilton kept his hand out and repeated his name.
The guy snarled. "Thomas Jefferson." He got off the couch without shaking Hamilton's hand and picked up his phone as it rang. He answered in a peeved tone. "Sorry," he said on the phone, "just got harassed by some jackass. I'm heading outside now."
Hamilton stared red-faced after Jefferson. Recovering, he spun around, ran back to Lafayette, and shoved him. "You should have told me that was Jefferson!" he shouted. "Now he's going to hate me forever and he's part of Washington's group. You're such a jerk, Laf."
"Jesus, Alex." Lafayette stepped back from Hamilton. "Calm down. Get a grip. Thomas always has a stick up his ass. He needed that."
"Fuck off." Hamilton walked out of the dorm. Eventually, Jefferson would show up at one of Washington's gatherings, what was Hamilton supposed to do then? Even if he apologized, he still looked like a pervert.
"Um, Alex."
Hamilton stumbled to a stop and looked back to see Burr.
He held his oft-unfolded schedule in his hand. "Um, are you doing the courthouse thing?" he asked picking at a scab on his chin.
"Yeah," Hamilton said. He turned around and walked closer.
"Can I…sit next to you on the bus?" Burr looked at his shoes. "I don't know anyone else."
"Yeah, totally." At least he wouldn't have to worry about Lafayette trying to sit with him now.
Burr glanced up with a quick smile. "Thanks."
Two professors arrived to gather up the group and get them on the bus. Burr found them a seat near the middle rows. Hamilton spotted Lafayette near the front.
"So, what high school did you go to?" Hamilton asked.
"District eight," Burr said looking away from the window. "It's shit."
"I went to district ten for a bit," Hamilton said watching Burr's hazel eyes. "It wasn't good either. Were you born in the city?"
Burr picked at his fingernails. "New Jersey. My parents passed away when I was little. An uncle raised my sister and me. You?"
"Nevis."
Burr shook his head. "I don't know where that is."
Hamilton glanced away. "No one does. It's in the Caribbean. My parents passed away when I was young, too."
"It sucks."
"Yup." Hamilton looked back at Burr. He was handsome, with a nice nose and wide forehead. He looked younger than eighteen and was a little on the pudgy side.
The bus stopped in front of the courthouse. Hamilton kept an eye on Lafayette as he got off the bus and made sure he stayed as far from him as possible during the outing.
Burr continued to follow Hamilton around even after they returned to campus. He kept at Hamilton's heels on the way to the cafeteria. But at least Lafayette headed home for the day.
Hamilton sped through the lunch line and filled his plate hoping to lose Burr. He spotted Laurens already seated and hurried towards him.
Jefferson smashed into him, knocking Hamilton's plate of spaghetti to the floor. The clatter echoed through the cafeteria and the few dozen students fell silent and stared.
"Good job," Hamilton said rolling his eyes.
Jefferson was more embarrassed and got out of the way fast while Hamilton cleaned the mess up. He even took the mop from the janitor and wiped up the sauce himself.
"I see you met Thomas Jefferson," Laurens commented after Hamilton refilled his plate and sat down next to him.
"Oh, I met him this morning," Hamilton replied and told him about Lafayette's stupid dare.
Laurens chuckled. "He is right, though. Jefferson does always have a stick up his butt." He nodded his head towards Burr staring at them from down the table. "Who's he?"
"My roommate," Hamilton said. "He keeps following me around."
Laurens patted Hamilton's leg under the table. "Want to avoid him this afternoon?"
"Yes." Hamilton met Laurens' magnetic eyes.
Laurens smiled and inched his hand inwards.
They finished their lunch within a few minutes and dumped their plates in the dish bin near the exit. They ran towards the dorm and upstairs where Laurens' room was.
Laurens slammed the door and shoved Hamilton against it. He kissed him hard, a hand going up his shirt.
Hamilton fought his tongue in and sucked on Laurens' lip. He pulled away long enough for Laurens to yank his shirt off and their lips met once more.
Laurens moved towards the bed and pushed Hamilton on top as they kicked off their shoes.
Hamilton reached for Laurens' t-shirt and stripped it away. His hands moved towards Laurens' jeans.
Laurens brushed his hands off and climbed on him. He moved Hamilton's hands over his head, holding him down. He sucked on Hamilton's neck leaving a noticeable mark.
Hamilton squirmed under him as his body throbbed and sought something to press against. He got his lips away from Laurens' long enough to ask, "What are you comfortable with?"
"Anything," Laurens breathed and sucked on Hamilton's earlobe.
"You sure?"
Laurens sat up and ground his body against Hamilton's hard organ. "Well, I've never tried anything, so…"
Hamilton grinned. "I see."
Laurens glanced away, cheeks pink. "I couldn't because of my parents. They don't support me being gay. I couldn't—"
Hamilton pushed himself up to stop Laurens with a kiss. "I understand. We'll go as far as you feel comfortable with at a time. I'm not keen on giving oral."
Laurens nodded. "Okay." He pushed Hamilton back down and ran his lips over his throat and towards his chest. "I don't have condoms."
Hamilton nudged Laurens back to put his weight against his crotch. "I'll get some. Rock your hips."
Laurens did, grinding himself onto Hamilton until he groaned.
"You want to take my jeans off?" Hamilton asked as he gasped for breath. "The zipper is killing me."
Laurens finished sucking on Hamilton's nipple and swung off him. He undid the button and zipper and tugged the jeans down. He rubbed his hands up Hamilton's bare legs and into his shorts.
Hamilton grunted in surprise and struggled to breathe. "Dang, Jack."
Laurens blue eyes snapped towards Hamilton's, chest heaving. He practically fell against him and their teeth clicked as they feverishly kissed.
Hamilton slipped his hands under Laurens and undid his jeans, getting the hardware out of the way from pressing into him. He used his feet to push them down.
They got no further as the door opened and Laurens' roommate returned.
"Ah, shit," he exclaimed and turned away. "Put a sock on the door or something, John."
"Sorry," Laurens mumbled.
The roommate hurried back into the hall.
"So, he seems nice," said Hamilton with a wave of his hand. He sat up and Laurens scooted off. "At least you don't have to hide that you're gay from him."
Laurens grimaced as he pulled up his jeans. "He'll probably ask to switch rooms now."
"Then you and I can share." Hamilton got off the bed and pulled Laurens close. "Don't fret, Jack."
Laurens rested his head against Hamilton's neck and closed his eyes.
Hamilton stroked his back and moved his pelvis in closer.
Laurens pulled away. "He's probably waiting in the hall. You better get dressed."
Hamilton sighed.
Properly clothed, Laurens opened the door. His roommate, Charles Lee, waited across the hall.
"Sorry," Laurens repeated.
"Nah, it's fine," Lee said. "I can go away again if you want. I just need my laptop."
"Yes," Hamilton said but Laurens shook his head.
"It's okay, Lee." Laurens pointed to Hamilton. "This is Alex."
Hamilton held out his hand.
"I'll pass," Lee said with a grin. "I'm sure you can understand why."
Hamilton returned the smile. "I hear you." He turned to Laurens. "See you at dinner?"
"Probably." Laurens kissed him. "Text me."
Hamilton waved to Laurens and left.
FOUR
Jefferson hoped the issue with Hamilton would disappear. He doubted he could shame the extroverted redhead and preferred to use his time for other matters.
He hated the showers in the bathroom, nothing more than four shower heads in a circle with puny dividers between and a shower curtain around. He woke early on the days he planned to shower to avoid anyone else in the bathroom.
Burr had the same idea.
Burr had only turned the water on and remained dressed when he saw Jefferson hesitate by the doorway.
"I can come back in, like, ten minutes," mumbled Jefferson.
"Thanks," Burr said. He sped through his shower and dried off. He met Jefferson in the hallway on his way back to his room.
Hamilton sat in bed playing on his phone.
"Did I wake you?" Burr asked. He flipped on the light.
"I got class at seven," Hamilton answered. He got out of bed, grabbed his toothbrush, and headed to the bathroom to give Burr privacy to dress.
He heard one of the showers going and glanced towards the shower room portion of the bathroom. The curtains didn't go all the way to the floor and he knew there was only one black student in their wing. He slipped in and snatched Jefferson's towel. He threw it in the farthest toilet stall and proceeded to brush his teeth.
The water turned off and Hamilton saw Jefferson reach for his towel. He smirked as Jefferson used the curtain to cover himself as he searched the immediate area.
Jefferson's eyes narrowed when he glanced towards the sinks and saw Hamilton. "You took my towel," he snapped.
Hamilton gargled and spat. "Nope."
"I know you did!"
Hamilton approached the showers. "Dude, I wouldn't take your fucking towel. I'll go get you another one, okay?"
"Thanks," Jefferson muttered.
Hamilton returned to his dorm and grabbed a washcloth.
"Here," he told Jefferson and handed the smallest possible towel around the shower curtain.
Jefferson smacked him with it. "Now I know you took my towel." He held the shower curtain around himself, face burning. "Can't you, please, be a decent human being?"
"Nope." Hamilton grinned. "You look like you played sports in high school. Surely, you can't be that modest."
"Fuck you."
Hamilton chuckled. "I bet you would."
Jefferson gave up on keeping covered and shoved Hamilton. He had played sports in high school, football. Hamilton weighed nothing and crashed to the floor.
"Shit," Hamilton cussed as his elbow smacked into the tile. "Hey, nice pack—"
Jefferson kicked him in the face. He ran from the bathroom.
Hamilton heard one whistle, then a door slam. He picked himself off the floor and checked his face in the mirror. A red mark covered his cheek and jaw but the kick hadn't been that forceful.
Jefferson tried to get him back and stole Hamilton's towel the next time he showered but nothing seemed to embarrass that kid and he went and used the urinal before heading back—naked—to his room with just about everyone in their wing getting a glimpse of him.
Now, Jefferson lived in dread of Hamilton's retaliation.
Alone at high school, Madison's health declined and he caught every bug that went through the school. He could barely last a week at a time before he caught a cold, had a migraine, or randomly started throwing up.
Jefferson couldn't hide his surprise when he saw Madison a month into the semester. "You look like hell, Jemmy."
His face had broken out for the first time in several months and he had no energy to cover it or the gray pallor of his sickly face. He hadn't washed his hair in a week either.
Madison sighed. "I'm aware."
"Anything I can help with?" Jefferson sat on the edge of the bed near him. "I could wash your hair."
Madison shook his head. "Watch TV with me."
Jefferson moved to the other side of the bed and kicked off his shoes. He snuggled his friend close and spent his Saturday watching reruns of Law & Order: SVU. He had hoped to have a conversation with Madison about his beloved Alex—an opinion Jefferson did not share and wished to never have met the kid—but the last thing he wanted was to stress or hurt his friend. Hamilton was, obviously, a different person around Madison, which was understandable as Madison had a much more agreeable personality than Jefferson did.
But another reason not to bring it up was he knew Hamilton hadn't spoken much to Madison since college started. Jefferson didn't want to hurt Madison by bringing up the loss of the closeness he and Hamilton had shared in high school that now vanished.
FIVE
"What's the plan tonight?" Hamilton asked Laurens. It was Friday night and they'd already spent the last few weekends being lame. He wasn't about to let that happen again.
"Dunno," Laurens said. He pushed his empty plate away and glanced around at the crowded cafeteria. "We're not cool enough yet to know where the parties are."
"We have to find something to do," Hamilton whined. "I don't want to spend another weekend in the library or at home. I want to get drunk."
Laurens fought a smile. "I'd like to see that. I'll ask Lee. We'll find somewhere to go."
Lee was just as boring and didn't have a clue where a party might be, but between him and Laurens, they managed to wheedle some cooler people out of telling where alcohol might be free-flowing for underage and ID-less drinkers.
Hamilton and Laurens walked a few blocks away around ten that night.
"So," Hamilton chewed his lip, "I've been a wild child most of my life and shit-faced plenty, but I've never actually been to a party. I usually drank in some slum downtown or a seedy basement with other foster kids."
"You'll have fun," Laurens said and laced his hands with his. "You just drink and make out, maybe talk or dance."
They managed to slip inside with anyone noticing—neither was sure how exclusive the party was. Once inside, it was dark and noisy. Music thumped and strobe lights pulsed. It was difficult to tell how many college kids filled the apartment.
"Get a drink!" someone shouted at them and handed them each a plastic cup.
Hamilton took a sniff. "Beer?"
Laurens chugged it without caution. "Yeah. Kind of watery. Better be something stronger."
They wandered through the crowd rubbing shoulders and wiggling through the guys and girls.
"I don't know anyone here," Hamilton shouted to be heard.
"Doesn't matter," replied Laurens. He found more beer and handed Hamilton a can.
He hated beer, but Hamilton drank it anyway. As he looked around, hoping to see someone he knew from his classes, he realized most of his classmates were straight-laced law students and wouldn't dare come to such a party. He lost Laurens in the crowd and went in search of him.
He found Laurens lip-locked to a shirtless guy, grinding all over him.
Hamilton crushed his nearly empty can in his hand. Sure, he and Laurens weren't monogamous but he didn't expect him to go around kissing random guys at a stupid party. He swallowed the last two gulps of beer and found another can.
When he found Laurens again, he was attached to a different guy.
Hamilton shoved his way to him and pushed in between the guy and Laurens. "What are you doing?" he shouted.
Laurens watched the guy flee. "Having fun, Hammy," Laurens said. "Don't be a drag."
"Kiss me then." Hamilton shoved him against the wall.
Laurens grabbed his face and kissed him.
The kiss was sloppy and Hamilton wanted to pull away. He let Laurens continue and his irritation mounted. Laurens was his not some random jock's to kiss and flirt. He unbuttoned Laurens' shirt wondering if he could shame Laurens into what he felt and give him a taste of betrayal.
"What're you doing?" Laurens mumbled once he noticed Hamilton had pushed his shirt off his shoulders. He didn't stop trying to kiss his friend, much drunker than Hamilton was having found stronger liquor.
Hamilton didn't answer and sucked on Laurens' neck.
In the dark, noise, and drunkenness of the party, no one even noticed their behavior.
"Having fun," Hamilton murmured and undid Laurens' jeans. He slipped his hand in and cupped his throbbing organ. He could pull Laurens' boxer briefs down and leave him exposed, erect, humiliated. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.
Laurens stroked Hamilton's face. "Let's go back to my dorm," he purred.
Hamilton's anger snapped away in an instant and he kissed Laurens and fought his tongue. He pulled free and sucked Lauren's bottom lip for a moment. "Okay." He took Laurens' hand and led the way.
Back at their dorm, they hurried upstairs but found a sock on Laurens' doorknob.
"Fuck," Laurens muttered.
"Foursome," Hamilton said.
"Lee's not gay." Laurens shook his head. "I'm not touching a woman."
Hamilton kissed his cheek. "I'm sure Aaron's asleep. Just be quiet." He dragged Laurens back downstairs to his room.
The doom was dark and quiet except for the hum of the box fan in the window since the dorms had no air conditioning.
Hamilton closed the door and glanced at Burr's sleeping silhouette. He and Laurens undressed and climbed on his bed.
Burr was awakened within minutes from their moans and giggles and the squeak of the bed. He pulled his blanket over his head. "I'm awake so you know," he said.
"Fuck," Hamilton muttered. He jerked away and fell to the floor with a crash. "Ugh." He rubbed his head. "Sorry, Aaron."
"We'll be quieter," Laurens said.
"You need to leave," Burr said, still under his blanket.
Hamilton stood and touched Laurens' check. "You better go," he whispered. "I'm sure Lee is done by now."
Laurens sighed. "Fine." He slid off the bed and tried to find his scattered clothes in the dark.
"I can turn a light on," Hamilton said.
"Nah. I found my underwear," Laurens said. "I'll get the rest tomorrow." He kissed Hamilton. "Night."
Hamilton locked the door behind him and crawled into bed. "Sorry, Aaron."
Burr gratefully pushed the blanket off his face in order to breathe. "Can you be more considerate?"
"Yeah."
Hamilton fell asleep a few minutes later, but Burr struggled to fall back asleep.
He woke first the next morning as sunlight streamed in through the thin curtain. He glanced across the room and quickly away after noticing Hamilton naked on top his blankets, face down at least.
Burr looked back. Hamilton was scrawny, bony, not much to him in general. While Burr had spent a childhood eating McDonalds's dollar menu and greasy school pizza, Hamilton had been malnourished in a different way. A year of decent food in a good foster family couldn't undo a life of little food and his growth remained stunted.
Burr rolled away to take his eyes off Hamilton. He had never dated or hooked up with anyone. In school, he had always been the poor, fat, smelly kid. His uncle only let him bathe once a week to keep the water bill as low as possible. He only took clothes to the laundromat when absolutely necessary, which was only once a month after each item had been worn for a week straight. Once Burr got a job on the weekends in high school, he used some money to wash his clothes more often but he knew he always looked like crap. He still looked a mess, but at least he could shower every day if he wanted. He could eat whatever he wanted, too, which didn't exactly help his weight.
Before his mind could wander and wonder what it would be like to kiss Hamilton, Burr rolled out of bed and gathered some clothes. He changed, back to Hamilton. When he finished and turned around, he saw Hamilton shut his eyes.
Color flushed Burr's face, but he also wondered… No.
He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and left to use the bathroom.
SIX
He couldn't get his mind off Hamilton. It didn't help that Hamilton had no modesty and changed without care or laid about half-naked. But Burr knew he was with Laurens. What would happen if he said something? He didn't want to switch roommates.
"What?"
Burr shut his eyes and realized he'd been staring at Hamilton. "Sorry. Can…can you put a shirt on and turn the heat down?" he mumbled. "You have it set at, like, eighty."
"I suppose." Hamilton slid off his bed and fiddled with the thermostat. He grabbed a shirt and tugged it over his head. "What're you studying?"
"That assignment from Washington." Burr held his book out. "Have you started?"
"I finished it yesterday. Do you want help?"
"Please."
Hamilton climbed on Burr's bed and looked at the scribbles he'd jotted down in a notebook. "You really haven't started, have you?"
Burr shrugged. "I'm not a writer, like you."
"You're always writing in your journal." Hamilton picked up a pen and rewrote some of Burr's sentences."
"That's different," Burr said. He glanced at what Hamilton had written. "That does sound better, thanks."
"No, prob." As he read the next page, he rubbed his bare foot against Burr's leg.
Burr cringed and pulled away. "Don't."
"Like you weren't thinking it." Hamilton looked up from the notebook. "I'm pretty slutty, Burr, if you ever want to."
Burr grabbed his notebook. "I'm good, thanks."
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Hamilton return to his bed and a book. He cursed himself. Why did he say no?
Hamilton excelled in his classes, especially in law under Washington's tutelage. But oddly enough, his favorite class remained the one he shared with Jefferson. He had competition then, someone to beat, someone to knock down. But he could not fathom how Madison could like Jefferson, other than for his brain.
"Can I borrow a pen?" Hamilton asked once after digging through his entire backpack for a writing utensil.
Jefferson turned away in response.
Well, obviously, Jefferson had reason to hate him, Hamilton figured, but he'd seen Jefferson do the same to anyone who tried to ask for something. The more he stalked Jefferson, the more Hamilton realized how much of a loner his competition was.
He always ate alone, walked to class alone, never frequented the library as far as Hamilton could tell. The only person he talked to was a high school friend, Angelica Schuyler, that Hamilton knew from Madison had been Jefferson's only friend then, too.
Hamilton lingered after his favorite class.
"Need something, Alex?" Washington asked as he organized the papers that the class had handed in.
"What's Jefferson's deal?" Hamilton asked. "Is he shy? Or just that much of a douche? Why does James like him?"
"Why don't you have an actual conversation with him?" Washington suggested.
"No." Hamilton stood. "Thanks for nothing."
"Alexander." Washington shook his head. "He lost his father his freshman year of high school. He learned to cope by creating a wall around himself at school. He hasn't figured out how to drop that wall since. He's different with James. He'd be different with you if you gave him a chance."
"No." Hamilton fiddled with the zipper on his backpack. "I lost both my parents. I'm not like that."
"Everyone grieves differently." Washington sighed. "Have you spoken to James since you left home?"
Hamilton cringed. "No, sir."
"James could still use your friendship even if you don't like Thomas." Washington looked at the clock. "Better hurry to your next class, son."
Jefferson glanced behind him. "Stop following me," he grumbled at the short redhead.
"I'm not," Hamilton shot back. "Merely coincidence."
"Fuck off."
"You know I'm friends with James, too, right?"
"Stay away from me." Jefferson walked faster. With his long legs, he forced Hamilton to jog.
"Look, I'm sorry about the towel thing," Hamilton said and panted.
"No, you're not." He managed to walk even faster without breaking his stride. "Leave. Me. Alone."
Hamilton broke into a short run and stopped in front of Jefferson. "Why?"
Jefferson couldn't stop his momentum as fast and smashed into Hamilton. His muscular frame took Hamilton down without resistance.
Hamilton scraped his elbow on the sidewalk and tried to kick Jefferson as he walked away. But everything hurt and he didn't put much effort into it. If Jefferson wasn't going to try then neither was he.
Hamilton met Laurens at lunchtime. "Help me take down Jefferson."
"Sure," Laurens said. He looked behind them at Jefferson eating alone at his usual booth table to dissuade anyone from sitting nearby. "What do you have in mind?"
"I don't know," Hamilton admitted. "I was usually the one who got picked on."
Laurens bit into his sandwich and swallowed. "Same."
Hamilton looked at him in surprise. "Really? Handsome, perfect you?"
"I didn't hit my growth spurt until I was sixteen," Laurens explained. "I was short and had braces. My mom used to brush my hair so you can imagine the frizzy mess."
Hamilton grinned. "Yeah, I can. I still bet you were adorable." He rested his chin on Laurens' shoulder. "Well, I don't want to do anything horrid, just, like, embarrass him."
"Trip him," Laurens said. "He's self-conscious enough that anything you do that puts attention on him will humiliate him."
Hamilton nodded and looked back at Jefferson, bent over reading and eating.
He did just that on Wednesday during their shared class.
Jefferson, yet to fully coordinate his tall body, smashed into two desks after he stumbled over Hamilton's leg. He books slid to the front of the room and a handful of loose papers fluttered around.
Hamilton struggled to keep the pain off his own face at how hard Jefferson had collided with his leg. He'd have a bruise for several weeks. "Whoops."
Jefferson snarled at him, red-faced as everyone else pretended not to notice but he could see their amused smiles. He knelt to gather his papers.
Hamilton snagged one sheet of notebook paper that had landed near his desk. The handwriting was barely legible but he could make out Madison's name scribbled at the top. Before Hamilton could wonder why Jefferson would have Madison's homework, his attention was drawn to the sketch at the bottom. He turned the paper a few ways as he puzzled it out.
"Wow, Jefferson, your boyfriend has a dirty mind."
Jefferson snatched the paper out of his hand. A vein popped in his forehead and color bloomed in his cheeks. "Don't look at my stuff," he growled.
"Shouldn't throw it everywhere then," Hamilton said with a grin.
Jefferson raised his hand but if he planned to hit Hamilton, Washington's presence stopped him.
"Dare I ask?" he said when he saw the anger on Jefferson's face and his foster son's smile.
Jefferson dropped into his nearby chair and turned away.
Washington picked a book off the floor. "Is this yours, Thomas?"
Jefferson snatched it back. He saw Hamilton out of the corner of his eyes making crude sexual gestures. He turned to face the wall.
SEVEN
"Have you talked to Alexander in a while?" Jefferson asked Madison. They sat on the floor in Madison's room on a chilly Saturday morning. The TV was on but both were more immersed in the science project Madison had to present next week.
"No," Madison said. "Have you?"
"I don't like him," Jefferson said flatly. "He's nothing but a dick to me."
"Sorry." Madison picked up a glue bottle. "I can see if he'll respond to a text. I don't know if he wants to be my friend anymore, though."
Jefferson shrugged. "I really don't want you to have to get involved in this."
"But he's making you miserable." Madison reached for his phone at the foot of his bed. He sent a quick how've you been?
A few minutes later, the phone rang.
Madison chewed his lip as Hamilton's name appeared on his screen. He took a deep breath. "Hello?"
"Hi, James," Hamilton said. "I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in a while. How are you?"
"Okay," Madison said and found it hard to be mad at him despite the six weeks of nothing and his attitude towards Jefferson. "It's been rough at school. I've been sick a lot. How are you?"
"Not bad." He paused. "What are you watching?"
Madison glanced at the TV. "Oh, um, My Little Pony."
"You're a brony?" Hamilton asked with a chuckle.
"Ugh, no." Madison rolled his eyes. "It's background noise."
"Sure. I saw your stuffed animals. You have, like, four My Little Pony's."
"Like that's even a surprise," Madison said.
Hamilton laughed. "True. What're you doing today?"
"Science project." Madison straightened his legs and leaned against his bed. He glanced at Jefferson watching him. His face warmed and he wished he could have the conversation with Hamilton alone. He was glad Jefferson couldn't hear the flirtiness in Hamilton's voice. "So, I have to ask…"
"About your boyfriend?" Hamilton said.
Should he correct him? "Yeah. He thinks you're a douche."
"We just clash," Hamilton defended himself. "Nothing personal. I don't do it to hurt you."
"Can you not, though?" Madison questioned. He glanced at Jefferson again. "He's shyer than you think."
"He's with you, isn't he?" Hamilton asked.
"Yes."
"I'll talk to him."
Madison handed the phone over.
Jefferson shook his head.
Madison shoved it at him.
Frowning at his friend, Jefferson muttered, "Hamilton."
"Jefferson." Hamilton's voice was equally cold. "So, I'm supposed to be nicer to you."
"I don't know why you're a jerk to me in the first place," Jefferson snapped. "You started this shit."
"Lafayette started it."
"Your brother."
"He's not my brother!" Hamilton shouted. "This is why I don't like you. You don't respect anyone."
"Whatever." Jefferson's lip curled. "You think everything should be handed to you because of your poor poverty-stricken life and having no family. Everyone has it bad, Hamilton, you don't deserve anything."
"You fuck," Hamilton snarled. "I'm glad your father died. You deserve that pain."
"At least he didn't abandon me by choice!"
"I will fucking kill you—"
Madison grabbed the phone and hung up. He glared at Jefferson. "That was low, Thomas. I'm disappointed in you."
"There's no hope for it, Jem." Jefferson rubbed his eyes. "We can't stand each other. Thank you for trying, but I don't want you getting in the middle again."
"I, quite frankly, don't want to either." Madison tossed his phone back on his bed. He stretched his legs towards Jefferson and rubbed his feet against his friend's leg. "Will you stay the night?"
"Yeah, I could use a break."
Hamilton seethed after Jefferson ended the call.
"That was intense," Burr said, having had little choice but to hear as he tried to write in his journal.
"I hate Thomas Jefferson," Hamilton spat. "He's a pretentious fuck. And he has the audacity to think that I think everything should be mine. He's never known suffering. Perfect, rich fuck."
"Jesus," Burr murmured. "You want to walk that anger off?"
"It's too cold."
"Nope, come on." Burr slid off his bed. He grabbed his boots and jacket and handed over Hamilton's.
Complaining and muttering about the cold and Jefferson, Hamilton followed Burr outside and they wandered off campus.
"You get it," Hamilton said. "You grew up poor and fucked, you know we don't think we deserve anything. What gave him the right to say that?"
"I doubt he knows the whole story," Burr soothed. "You don't know his whole story either."
"He knew my father abandoned my family." Hamilton's eyes snapped. "I don't know how he knew that." He pulled up his hood and tucked his hands in his sleeves. "It's so fucking cold out."
Burr kept his thoughts on that matter to himself. It was, maybe, fifty degrees, hardly winter weather. "Well, ignore him from now on. I doubt he'll retaliate on you."
"He crossed a line." Hamilton moved closer to Burr in hopes of warmth. "I'm taking him down."
"Alex…"
"I don't know what I'll do or when, but I'll find the perfect opportunity. I'll give it time so he won't expect it."
"Alex…"
"Burr, I have to." He stuffed his hand in Burr's jacket pocket.
Burr didn't argue further and rested his hand over Hamilton's snug in his pocket.
Hamilton waited for Laurens outside of English class the next day. "My last class was canceled," he said. "Want to do something? I need a distraction."
Laurens laced their fingers together. "I promised Lee we would study together. We're in the same bio class and he's struggling."
"We never hang out," Hamilton whined. "Don't you like me anymore?"
"Hammy." Laurens rolled his eyes and kissed Hamilton's lips. "More than anyone. But we only have a month left of this semester."
Hamilton squeezed Laurens' hand tight and leaned closer. He whispered, "Do you know how long it's been since I've had sex? I want to take our relationship to the next level."
A pink tinge rose in Laurens' cheeks. "Okay."
Hamilton kissed his cheek. "Tonight? Can you get Lee to be gone for, like, an hour?"
Laurens nodded.
"Don't look so scared." Hamilton let go of his hand and stroked his face. "We've come close how many times already?"
"I know." Laurens adjusted his backpack. "But…"
Hamilton shook his head. "Your virginity isn't a prize to keep, John. The prize is losing it. I'm a switch so you can pick whichever position you feel more comfortable with." He tugged Lauren's ponytail. "Relax."
Laurens' grin was strained and he was glad to see Lee waiting outside and hurried off to the library with him.
As promised, Laurens kept Lee away that evening.
Hamilton tossed a box of condoms at Laurens. "Did you decide?"
"Top," Laurens said and fiddled with the box. "Hammy, I went to a private school, the sex ed was abstinence. I don't…This…" He shook the box. "Help me."
Hamilton grinned. "Dang, I didn't think you could get cuter, Jack." He took the box and opened a condom. "It just kind of rolls on. The trick is getting it off and not making a mess."
"Great…" He sighed.
"Jack, come on." Hamilton nudged him. "You act like we haven't had fun before. Let's just see where we go and if it doesn't happen, so what."
Laurens took a deep breath. "You're right." He flipped the light off and pulled Hamilton in his arms.
EIGHT
The bed did more work, Hamilton was convinced when he rolled over and Laurens collapsed on top of him. Their sweaty bodies stuck together and he breathed in the musky scent and nibbled Laurens' ear.
"That was amazing," he whispered. "No way was that your first time."
"Truth," Laurens said. He cuddled next to Hamilton and stroked his chest. Their legs intertwined and their bodies molded together. "It's because we know each other so well."
Hamilton pulled Laurens tighter to him. "I love you."
Laurens let out a soft sigh and nuzzled his face into Hamilton's sticky chest. "I love you, too."
"You didn't come to bed last night," Burr said as he got in line for breakfast behind Hamilton. "I thought you might have gone home early."
"No." Hamilton smiled at Laurens' in front of him. "I stayed with John."
"Oh." Burr slid a waffle on his plate. "Oh."
Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Like you didn't know that was going to happen."
"Honestly already thought it had," Burr said. He poured pools of syrup on his waffle. "Are you two dating now?"
Hamilton and Laurens glanced at each other. They both gave an indirect shrug.
"So I could still ask you out?"
Laurens' plate clattered against the serving counter and he dropped his fork.
"Easy, Laurens' Hamilton said before he turned to Burr. "Yeah, but I'd say no. I'm not interested in monogamy."
"Good to know." Burr left the line to find a table.
"I didn't know he was gay," Laurens hissed at Hamilton.
"Wasn't a hundred percent sure myself," Hamilton admitted. He looked around the cafeteria to find where Burr had sat. "Not sure he's my type anyway." So why is my heart pounding so hard?
Madison coughed and sniffled his way through the week. His grades had gone in a downward slide since October, the first time he hadn't managed straight A's.
Adams sat next to him at lunch. "You look like shit."
Madison wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Just leave me alone."
"You really go to hell when you don't have anyone to impress," Adams continued. "No Thomas, no Alexander. What do you have to live for, am I right?"
Madison left his tray and ran out of the cafeteria. He threw up in the nearest trashcan. He wiped his mouth and pulled out his phone. He closed his eyes, praying Jefferson could pick up.
"Jemmy?"
"Come get me," Madison choked. "I can't do this."
"Alright," Jefferson consoled. "I'm leaving now. Wait for me outside."
Madison had enough time to get his backpack and met Jefferson in the pickup lane outside the high school.
Jefferson opened the truck door for him and watched his friend's trembling body climb inside. He returned to the driver's side and closed the door.
Madison curled himself in the seat, crying.
Jefferson reached over and managed to pull Madison across the console into his lap. His seat was already pushed as far back as it went to accommodate his legs and Madison didn't need much space.
"What happened?" Jefferson asked. He touched Madison's hair and realized he'd once again stopped washing it.
"Everything," Madison sobbed. "I just want to go home."
"Okay. I can't hold you and drive, though."
Madison crawled back to his seat and buckled up.
Jefferson held his hand on the drive home.
He carried Madison inside and to his room. He sat on the bed and kept Madison tight in his arms. "Anything specific happen?"
"I miss you." Madison clung to Jefferson's shirt. "I hate being alone. It's too hard!"
Jefferson kissed his forehead. "I know, love."
"I could deal if Washington was still there," Madison continued in between sniffles. "But I don't even have any good teachers. Thomas, I can't!" He broke into desperate cries.
"Shh, I know, Jemmy, I know." He held him tight and wished he actually did know. He was a loner and didn't have Madison's anxiety. Talking in class didn't bother him, although he didn't care to socialize. Working alone, being alone was fine with him. But Madison survived on having someone take care of him. The long days, the noise, the people, everything overwhelmed him. He barely made it with his friends. He couldn't do it alone. "How can I make it better, Jem?"
"Never leave me again." Madison buried his face in Jefferson's chest.
Jefferson tucked Madison's hair back. "James…"
"You can't," Madison whispered.
Jefferson closed his eyes against the painful truth. "I'm sorry. I'd give the world to you."
"I know." Madison pulled away and met Jefferson's eyes. "Will you wash my hair?"
"Of course."
Madison slipped off his lap to turn on the Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom.
Jefferson glanced at his phone and saw a missed call and voicemail from Washington. He'd missed his presentation a half hour ago. He set his phone on the nightstand and joined Madison in the bathroom.
Madison had their swim trunks in hand. "We could go naked," he said with a sly smile.
Jefferson snatched his shorts. "I'm not ready for you to see me naked yet."
"You've seen me naked before," Madison said.
"You were in the hospital." Jefferson turned Madison around so he could change. "Not equal." He pulled off his shirt and changed his bottoms quickly knowing Madison was stealing every glance he could.
While Madison changed, Jefferson gathered his hair care products and lined them up by the tub. He got in and sank into the hot, bubbly water. While he loved the jets, he loved the tub most for its ability to fit him without some part of his body sticking out of the water.
Madison got in the water and Jefferson soaked his hair thoroughly. He lathered up the shampoo, massaging Madison's scalp as he worked. He shampooed the long locks twice to get all the grease out. Once rinsed out, Jefferson smoothed in conditioner and worked out the tangles with a comb.
Madison closed his eyes in relaxation. His body warm and safe on Jefferson's lap and the pleasant tugs and touches on his hair. Jefferson was finished all too fast.
"We don't have to get out yet, right?" Madison pleaded.
"No." Jefferson wrapped his arms around Madison and stroked a thumb against his chest. He wanted to kiss him.
The thought struck him hard and he almost shoved Madison off his lap. And as sudden as that hit him, a worse one collided with his brain: Why hadn't he wanted to before? Did he not actually want to date his best friend? Had he been putting that two-year wait for Madison to turn eighteen out there because he didn't want to and it kept Madison satisfied? What was going to happen when Madison turned eighteen? He would be the biggest douchebag and hate himself if he said no.
"Thomas?"
Jefferson jumped. "Huh?"
"You got all tense," Madison said. "Are you alright? I can move."
He couldn't make his mouth and brain work to form a decision. Yes, he wanted Madison to move because he suddenly felt things. But why hadn't he felt things before? Why hadn't he even noticed?
"I…I just remembered, um, a class thing," Jefferson mumbled.
"Oh." Madison rested his head back against Jefferson's chest. "Did you miss something important?"
Jefferson stroked Madison's bare arm. "Yeah, but I think it'll be okay. You're more important." He sucked in a breath to steady himself. Yes, missing that presentation wasn't going to look good on his grades, but this was throwing him for a bigger loop. "I do kind of need to check my phone," he half lied.
Madison gave a quiet sigh. "Okay."
They got out and dried off. Jefferson went into the bedroom, grabbed his phone, and found another voicemail from Washington. He listened to both and grimaced. He missed both chances he could have presented his speech. Washington would still accept his paper but half his grade was an automatic zero.
"Important?" Madison asked as he came out of the bathroom drying his hair in a towel, another around his waist.
Jefferson shrugged. "I'll figure it out." He typed out a message to apologize and explain. He didn't ask for any hope on a better grade but did ask if there was anything he could do for extra credit.
"Do you have to go?" Madison brushed a hand against Jefferson's bare back.
Jefferson shivered. "I should." But why the fuck do I want to throw you down and kiss you? "Are you feeling a little better?"
Madison nodded.
Jefferson saw the tears in his eyes, though. "Jem…" He picked him up and almost pulled the towel away but Madison stopped him.
"I'm naked."
Color burned Jefferson's cheeks and he bit his lip.
Madison grinned. "You're flustered. You're actually sort of turned on, aren't you?"
"Jem, don't tease," Jefferson pleaded. He set Madison on the bed. "This is weird."
"What? That you have emotions." Madison lay back on the bed. "Come on, T."
"No, I have to get back to school." Jefferson locked himself in the bathroom to change. He sucked in a deep breath. "What the fuck?" he muttered.
This was normal. Why hadn't he felt this before? What was wrong with him? He'd known he was gay forever. Boys were much cuter. Aesthetically, girls did not appeal. But something was different now that he hadn't known he was missing before. He'd never been turned on before. He never thought about having sex with Madison before. What did that make him? What would happen when he asked Madison out?
NINE
Laurens waited for Hamilton after class as they planned to go to the movies.
"Ready?" Laurens asked when he spotted Hamilton.
"Bathroom first," Hamilton said and gave Laurens a peck on the lips. "I've had to pee since class started and I'm about to explode."
Having heard Hamilton's comment, Jefferson smirked and dropped his bag lower. He slung it at Hamilton as he walked past. The heavy bag smashed into Hamilton's bladder.
"Fuck you, Jefferson!" Hamilton shouted after his bladder stopped unleashing itself and left a large wet spot on his jeans.
"Jeez, maybe you should wear diapers," Jefferson said. "You're such a baby."
"You fucking hit me!" Hamilton tried to rush him but Laurens grabbed his arm.
"Let it go," he whispered. "Let's get back to your dorm. You reek."
Hamilton jerked his arm free but Jefferson had already turned a corner out of sight. "I hate him!"
Laurens pulled Hamilton's backpack off his shoulders and made him carry it in front. "Move."
Hamilton muttered and cussed his hate for Jefferson as they hurried back to their dorm. He stripped off his wet jeans. "I have to shower. We're going to miss the movie. What am I supposed to do with these?" He held his jeans out.
"Wash them?" Laurens stated the obvious.
Hamilton grumbled in his throat. "Right now. I don't want to do laundry."
"Wash them in the shower with you," Laurens suggested. "I'll check movie times while you do that."
"Fine." Hamilton grabbed a bottle of soap and a towel. He let the door slam behind him.
Laurens propped himself on Hamilton's bed and pulled out his phone. They wouldn't make the afternoon show but they could go later.
The door opened in a slow arc.
Laurens glanced up to see Burr.
"Door wasn't locked," Burr said. "Wasn't sure what I was going to find."
"Sorry," Laurens said. "Jefferson made Alex wet himself so he's in the shower."
"There's an interesting sentence." Burr set down his things and plugged in his phone. "Is he alright?"
"It's Alex." Laurens tossed his phone aside. "I don't think I've ever properly introduced myself. John Laurens." He held out his hand.
Burr shook it. "Aaron Burr. I'm pretty sure you appearing naked in my room is about all I know about you."
Laurens chuckled. "Great first impression, I hope."
"Certainly an interesting one."
The door opened again and Hamilton entered and tossed his wet clothes on the floor. "I'm getting Jefferson back in the worst way possible," he steamed. "Fuck him!"
"Easy, Ham," Laurens soothed.
"Everyone knows. I just got called a baby in the hallway and told to go cry to Washington. I don't want everyone knowing about my situation."
"That Washington is your foster father?" Burr said.
Hamilton sent him a scathing look. "How the hell?"
"Jefferson." Burr looked at his hands. "I wouldn't worry about that, Alex. Washington is awesome. It's a plus that you have him in your life. No one would insult you over that."
Hamilton shook his head.
"I'm an orphan, too," Burr reminded him. "At least you have a parental figure who cares about you."
"It wasn't his place to tell." Hamilton opened a dresser drawer and tossed out some clothes.
"True."
"I'm going to dress," Hamilton said. "You guys want to look away?"
"Nope," Laurens said with a grin.
"John, I will kill anyone right now." Hamilton glared at him.
Laurens rolled his eyes but turned away. Burr did the same.
Once he was dressed, he asked Laurens, "What time did you find for the movie?"
"Seven," Laurens said. "We should invite your roommate."
Burr glanced up from his phone. "You guys don't have to."
"You're more than welcome, Aaron," Hamilton said. "Have you left campus since term started?"
"I suppose."
They had a few hours to wait, though and messed around on Hamilton's laptop. A quarter after six, they headed on foot to the movie theater a mile away.
"You didn't tell me we were walking," Burr complained halfway there.
"You grew up in the city," Hamilton replied. "You should be used to walking everywhere."
Burr grumbled.
At the theater, they loaded down with drinks, popcorn, and candy. None of them went to the movies often and splurging on junk food was the best part.
Afterward, energetic and noisy, they headed a different way back to campus and came upon a party.
"Let's just see if we can get in," Laurens suggested with wide, excited eyes.
Burr walked behind them as they headed to the crowded front porch.
"You city college?" someone asked.
"Yeah?" Laurens hesitated.
"Grab a beer."
Hamilton and Laurens grinned at each other and grabbed beers out of a nearby cooler and headed inside. Burr trailed behind with his own drink.
"Shit, nice place," Laurens shouted above the music.
The boys stayed for over an hour. Hamilton and Laurens danced and made out, losing track of Burr almost at once. When they decided to leave, they found him puking on the front lawn.
"What the fuck, Burr?" Hamilton said and held his arm. "You alright?"
Burr wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Great." His eyes started to close and he wobbled.
Laurens grabbed his shoulders. "He's wasted, Alex."
"No shit."
Together, they supported Burr and trudged back to campus. Burr managed to walk to some capacity but he had to stop and throw up twice. But the last few hundred yards, he blacked out and his body slumped down between Laurens' and Hamilton's supporting arms.
Hamilton grunted as he tried to manage his half of the dead weight.
Laurens shifted Burr to take more and slowed his steps.
Aching and panting, they arrived in the dorm. Laurens hoisted Burr onto his bed.
"Good luck with him," he grumbled and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"You have to stay with me," Hamilton said. "I don't want to be alone if he, like, dies."
"He's just drunk." Laurens fought a yawn. "I don't want to listen to him puke all night."
"John," Hamilton pleaded. "You'll get to sleep with me."
Laurens sighed. "Fine."
Burr groaned from his bed and Hamilton quickly grabbed a trashcan. He wasn't a moment too late and Burr vomited again. He lay back on his bed moaning.
"I want to know what he drank," Laurens said. "You and I only had beer." He stripped down to his underwear and got in Hamilton's bed.
"Do you think someone spiked his drink then?" Hamilton asked and pinched his lip. "What if he needs to go to the hospital? Should I call Washington?"
"Fuck, no, Alex." Laurens rubbed his eyes. "Just get in bed; he'll be fine."
Hamilton touched Burr's forehead—it felt normal and he seemed to be breathing fine. He changed and joined Laurens.
Laurens cuddled him close and kissed the back of his neck. "Maybe tomorrow night you and I—"
Burr retching and Hamilton rolling out of bed to hold the garbage can cut his words short.
A few minutes later, Hamilton returned. "What were you saying, John?" he whispered.
Laurens pretended to be asleep and didn't answer.
TEN
The night was broken by frequent vomiting. Once the sun came up, Laurens got out of bed and stretched.
"See, Alex? He's alive." He pointed his middle finger at Burr, asleep. "I lost a night of sleep because of him. Can I go now?"
Hamilton stopped a yawn. "Fine."
Laurens slammed the door on his way out.
The noise woke Burr and he whimpered. "Alex?"
"I'm here." Hamilton fought another yawn. "How're you feeling?" He touched Burr's forehead.
"Ugh." Burr squinted. "What happened?"
"You tell me. Do you remember what you drank?"
"No."
Hamilton stroked Burr's cheek. "You should drink some water. Can you sit up?"
Burr's arms trembled as he pushed himself upright. He leaned against the wall and accepted Hamilton's water bottle. He sipped slowly, eyes closed.
Hamilton rubbed his thumb along the back of Burr's left hand. "I was worried about you. You threw up a lot."
Burr squinted at him. "I don't remember. I just remember gummy bears."
"Well, you did throw up a lot of them."
Burr pressed a hand against his mouth.
"Keep it in," Hamilton said, "you'll puke for sure if you see what's in the garbage can. Let me take it out."
Burr swallowed the liquid filling his mouth. He made a squeaky sound and Hamilton shoved the gross trashcan at his face.
Spent, Burr lay back down and closed his eyes.
"I'll be right back," Hamilton promised and struggled not to gag as he dealt with the vomit filled trash bag.
He returned and carefully got on Burr's bed without jostling him and lay down at his side.
"Alex?" Burr murmured.
"Hmm?" Hamilton rubbed Burr's stomach.
"You don't have to waste your Saturday on me."
"I don't mind." Hamilton closed his eyes and rested his face between Burr's shoulder blades. "Unless I'm annoying you?"
"No. Do you have enough room?"
His back was wedged against the wall, but Hamilton said, "I'm good." It wasn't long before he fell asleep.
He slept through his phone ringing once, but the second time pierced through his dreams. Hamilton sat up, groggy and confused. The room was warm and stuffy and his shirt stuck to his skin. He moved carefully to get around Burr and grabbed his phone to see whose call he missed. Two from Washington. He grimaced and listened to his foster father's voicemail.
John called me and said your roommate was sick. Let me know how he's doing. Also, Mom wants to know if you'll be home for dinner tomorrow.
Not the scolding he feared, Hamilton sighed with relief. He called Washington back.
"Was starting to worry," said Washington when he picked up. "How are you, Alex?"
"Good," Hamilton said. "Aaron is still asleep. I think he's okay, though."
"Do you know what happened?"
"No." Hamilton watched his sleeping roommate. "He threw up a lot."
"Make sure he drinks plenty," Washington instructed. "Get him some Gatorade."
"Okay."
"What's your plan for tomorrow?"
Hamilton dug through Burr's food stash to see if he had any Gatorade. "I'll come over if Aaron is doing better."
"Alright. Text me and I'll pick you up."
"Will do." They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Not finding any Gatorade, Hamilton changed and grabbed some cash to hit the convenience store a block from campus.
Jefferson was leaving the dorm at the same time.
"Not in the mood, Jefferson," Hamilton grumbled as he pushed open the front door.
"I haven't said anything," Jefferson replied. He followed Hamilton outside. "Where're you going?"
"Not your business."
Jefferson stopped in front of Hamilton. "I know your roommate was throwing up all night. Did you get him pregnant?"
Hamilton snarled up at Jefferson. "I could be asking you the same about James. Hasn't he been sick for a while?"
Jefferson looked away. "I'll tell him that's what you think of him. It was shit of you to drop his friendship like that."
Hamilton shook his head. "Trust me, I feel bad, but it's kind of hard to be his friend when you're also his friend and we don't see each other at school anymore. I don't like you."
"Could have fooled me," Jefferson deadpanned. "You want a ride to the store? Pregnancy test and adult diapers, right?"
Hamilton kicked Jefferson in the knee and stormed off, too steamed for words for the first time in his life.
He soon returned to campus with a pack of Gatorade and a box of crackers. When he entered the dorm hall, he saw Laurens playing cards with Lee and two other students in the common area.
Laurens stared at Hamilton as he walked by, his eye contact cold.
Hamilton locked his door behind him.
Burr opened his eyes. "Where'd you go?" he asked.
"Get you something to drink." Hamilton handed him a bottle of Gatorade. "How do you feel?"
Burr unscrewed the cap. "I managed to get up to use the bathroom without dying."
"Good." Hamilton ripped open a sleeve of crackers. "Eating something will help, too."
"Thank you, Alex." Burr's dark hazel eyes met his. "Seriously, you didn't have to go to this much trouble."
"Nah, it's fine." Hamilton smiled at him. "Keep resting. I'm going to go get some lunch."
In the common area, Laurens set down his cards and stopped Hamilton before he could leave. "We need to talk."
"John, I'm starving," Hamilton said. "I'm cranky and I need to eat something. Can we talk later?"
"Fine." Laurens turned away.
Hamilton was in no mood to deal with the noise and crowd of the cafeteria and went upstairs to the cafe instead. He bought a sandwich and headed to the nearby law building. Silence met him and he walked through the halls until he was at Washington's classroom. The door was locked but he sat on a nearby bench and unwrapped his lunch.
"Alexander?"
Hamilton looked up in surprise to see Washington.
"What're you doing eating in here?" He sat on the bench next to Hamilton.
"Needed a break," Hamilton said. "John is mad at me, Aaron is sick, and Jefferson was being mean, again, earlier."
Washington patted his leg. "I'm sorry, son."
"What're you doing here?" Hamilton asked and took another bite of his sandwich.
"I forgot some papers I need to have graded by Monday."
Hamilton finished his lunch and rested his head against Washington's shoulder. "I'm so worn out."
"You're almost done with the semester," Washington soothed. "You're doing amazing, Alex."
Hamilton rolled the plastic wrap from his sandwich between his palms. "What time should I come over tomorrow?"
"Any time, son. You can come home with me now if you want to. Give yourself more time to relax."
"I don't want to leave Aaron."
"You're a good friend." Washington tapped his nose. "I did promise Martha I wouldn't be longer than an hour."
Hamilton nodded and sat up. He tossed the plastic wrap ball at a nearby trashcan and missed.
Washington picked it up when he stood. "I'll see you tomorrow, Alex. I know it's difficult, but try not to stress yourself too much. No matter what, you know Mom and I love you."
"Thanks," Hamilton whispered. He watched Washington unlock his classroom and close the door. He headed back to his dorm to deal with Laurens.
Laurens continued to play cards when Hamilton approached. "You have to wait, I'm winning," he said.
Hamilton sat on the armrest of the couch and watched in silence. A weight of the unknown settled on his shoulders, as he remained unsure why Laurens was so pissed.
Ten minutes later, Laurens won and he stood. "Let's go upstairs."
The Lee/Laurens dorm was a lot messier than Hamilton and Burr's was. Books and clothes cluttered the floor. Candy wrappers overflowed from the garbage can and littered the floor. It smelled like dirty laundry.
"I don't know why you're mad," Hamilton mumbled and chewed on his thumbnail.
"You're spending an awful lot of time with your roommate," Laurens said. "Do you like him better than me?"
"Seriously, John?" Hamilton shook his head. "For one thing, he is my roommate; I'm around him a lot by default. He's my friend. Right now he's sick and I'm sorry if that inconveniences you."
"It does when you make me get no sleep to stay with you when he was perfectly fine, Alex." Laurens rested his hands on his hips. "You also seemed interested when he somewhat asked you out."
"You fucking jealous?" Hamilton accused. "We're not dating, John. Every time we go to a party, you make out with someone different. I have the same right."
"Like you've never been jealous of that." Laurens glanced away. "God, Alex."
"Oh, grow up, John. I don't get bitchy when you hang out with Charles Lee."
"Yes, you do," Laurens said.
"Not to this extent."
Laurens' lip drew in a thin line. "So, it's a competition to who has stronger feelings? Who gets hurt more? I'm not interested in playing those kinds of games. I'm not aiming to make you jealous."
"Then what is your issue?" Hamilton demanded. He stepped closer to Laurens. "I'm not sleeping with Aaron. Will I? I dunno yet. It's not for you to control unless you ask me out."
"And if I do?" Laurens questioned.
"The answer is no."
"Then I'm done, Alexander." Laurens turned away. "I'm not going to get hurt."
"Whatever, John." Hamilton headed for the door. "Fuck you." He let it slam behind him.
ELEVEN
Since Burr was doing better by the next morning, Hamilton took the bus and headed home early to surprise the Washington's when they returned from church.
The dogs greeted Hamilton with yaps and kisses. He gave each one individual attention and took them outside.
As usual, at the sound of the garage opening, the dogs ran to the side door to greet their owners. Hamilton followed and sat on the floor with them.
The side door opened and a grin stretched across Washington's face when he saw Hamilton on the floor. "Well, if it isn't our dear boy."
Hamilton stood and hugged him as if he hadn't seen him almost every day. He hugged Mrs. Washington next and she squeezed him tight.
"Are you hungry, dear?" Mrs. Washington asked.
"Starved," said Hamilton.
"I'll make pancakes."
The dogs followed Mrs. Washington into the kitchen.
"How's Aaron?" Washington asked as he slipped on his reading glasses. He sat in his armchair and picked up the Sunday paper.
"Better." Hamilton sat on the couch. "I need your advice on something."
Washington set aside the paper. "I'm all ears, son."
Hamilton picked at his cuticles. "John and I had a fight. He's jealous of my spending time with Aaron. He told me either I needed to date him or he was done. I told him to eff off and left."
Washington purses his lips. "I'm assuming that's not what you really want?"
Hamilton shook his head. "I really like John, but I'm just… I don't want the commitment. I'm in college, it's stressful enough without serious dating. I mean, I get where he's coming from, but…" he gnawed on his gums. "But I thought we were in agreement."
"That you would keep it casual?" Washington asked.
"Yeah." Hamilton kept his eyes on his lap.
"Have you had sex with him?"
Hamilton nodded.
"With Aaron?"
"No," Hamilton murmured as heat rose up his face.
"Will you?" Washington asked. He crossed his legs and twirled his glasses around.
Hamilton shrugged.
"Well, first, I would remind you to be responsible in your sexual activity. Do you have condoms?"
Hamilton nodded and didn't think his face could get any hotter.
"Good." Washington leaned forward. "Apologize to John. You might have agreed to keep things casual but feelings change. You need to respect his and understand that. Tell him you're sorry for storming out and cussing at him. His response to that will tell you how to go from there."
Hamilton nodded again. "I don't want to lose him."
"I know." Washington reached over and patted his leg. "You may have to decide whether dealing with a relationship or losing him will be harder."
"Is what I'm doing stupid?" Hamilton asked with a glance at Washington.
"Well, I know times have changed since I was in college and such a thing wouldn't have crossed my mind. But as long as all parties are in a hundred percent agreement at all times—and everyone is responsible—I don't see a problem. You do you, Alexander. It's my job to love you and pay for your education, not to judge."
"You're too…" Hamilton sucked his lips in as he searched for the right word. "Accepting," he decided. "But I mean that in a good way. We kids need people like you. I know all your misfits wouldn't manage half so well without your acceptance."
Washington chuckled. "You consider yourselves 'my misfits'?"
Hamilton smiled. "Yeah. But I'm the luckiest since I get to call you Dad."
Washington's face softened and his eyes grew moist. "You're something, Alex." He picked up the paper to distract himself. "Now, go set the table for breakfast."
"Yes, Dad."
Hamilton didn't get a chance to see Laurens until lunch on Monday. He spotted Laurens at their usual long table with several classmate acquaintances. His usual spot next to Laurens was taken, however.
"Excuse me, Charles," Hamilton said. "May I sit next to John?"
"Nope," Laurens said.
Lee gave an apologetic shrug.
Hamilton walked around the table and took a seat two chairs down from Laurens. He didn't touch his food and stared at his friend.
After a few minutes, Laurens glared at him. "What, Alexander?"
"We need to talk," Hamilton said.
"Talk then."
"In private."
"Nope." Laurens resumed eating his taco salad.
"John, I'm sorry," Hamilton said as he leaned over the table. Someone moved their plate out of the way. "I shouldn't have stormed off and cussed at you." He tried to remember everything Washington had told him. "I have to respect your feelings. If they changed, we need to talk about that."
"Shut up, Alexander," Laurens said. "People are trying to eat."
Those around them pretended not to notice.
"Then talk to me," Hamilton said.
"Nope."
Hamilton ground his teeth. He didn't want to have this discussion in public but he knew he wouldn't get Laurens alone. "If you need something different, can we talk about it? I'm willing to compromise. I… don't want to lose you." He faltered afraid to say 'love you' in public.
Laurens shook his head. "I dunno." He looked at Hamilton. "I don't know what to expect with any of this, you know?"
"I understand." Hamilton reached his hand diagonal across the table towards Laurens. "Talk to me?"
Laurens sighed. He set his fork down. He slipped under the table and came up at Hamilton's chair. He sat on Hamilton's lap. "Talk."
Hamilton smiled and nuzzled his face against Laurens' neck. "Your room?" he whispered.
Laurens pulled away. "Here."
He had to fight the urge to shove Laurens away and cuss him out again. He wrapped his arms around Laurens instead. "What would make you happy?" he asked.
"You not talking to Burr," Laurens said. He played with Hamilton's fingers.
"Why?" Hamilton managed to keep his voice soft and not jump to defense.
"He's my rival for your affection," Laurens whispered.
"We talked about this, John," Hamilton reminded him. "You've kissed other guys. We're keeping this casual. I'm not interested in Aaron."
"But you could."
Hamilton didn't answer.
"I know I'm being controlling," Laurens said. "I don't have confidence that I can keep you interested."
"That's what you're afraid of?" Hamilton said. He squeezed Laurens' hand. "I'm invested in us, Jack. But you know—"
"Nothing serious," Laurens interrupted.
"Yeah. It's stressful enough with school, juggling a committed relationship, too…"
Laurens nodded. "I see what you're saying. Can we set some boundaries?"
"Possibly."
"Roommates are off limits."
Hamilton took a deep breath. "Okay."
TWELVE
Jefferson staggered into the dorm bathroom, drunk, and not a clue how that happened. He remembered going to an off-campus party with Angelica and having a beer. Vaguely, he could recall dancing so whatever he had drank occurred before then. Somehow, he'd made it back, though.
He dropped his pants, too wasted to worry about modesty, plus the bathroom was empty and it was one in the morning. He struggled to pee despite having worried he'd been about to wet himself. He didn't hear the restroom door open.
Hamilton slipped his cellphone out of his back pocket. The opportunity was too good to miss. Finally, a chance for payback. He snapped a picture of Jefferson's ass hanging out of his tighty-whities, pants pooled at his feet.
Jefferson heard the camera click and looked over. "Hamilton!" He moved and his own pants tripped him. He grabbed the side of the urinal to keep from falling as the floor spun.
"Thomas Jefferson shit-faced?" Hamilton said in astonishment. "I didn't know you could lose control of that stick up your ass."
Jefferson managed to get his pants up, although he remained disheveled. "Delete the pic you took," he demanded and stumbled towards Hamilton.
Hamilton pulled up a recent group text and sent the picture. "Whoops."
Jefferson smashed him against the bathroom wall. "I'll kill you."
Hamilton had no trouble shoving him back and Jefferson's woozy momentum knocked him against the door. His phone dinged with a response. "You might have just become more popular, T." He left the bathroom and found Laurens' reply, what the fuck? Is that Jefferson?
Hamilton typed a reply. Lafayette and his friend Hercules Mulligan would probably gripe at him in the morning for all the 1 am messages but they'd appreciate a good ass picture.
Burr was up before Hamilton the next morning. Checking his phone, he saw a text from his roommate. He glanced at Hamilton as he opened the message. "Alex, you're gonna die," he muttered as he saw the picture. He got out of bed and shook Hamilton's awake. "Alex, how many people did you send the picture of Jefferson to?"
Hamilton rolled over. "What? Ugh, it's early, Burr."
Burr shoved his phone in Hamilton's face. "Did you send that to anyone else?"
Hamilton grinned. "Hell, yeah."
Burr shook his head. "That's bullying, Alex. You could get in trouble."
"Jefferson's an ass." Hamilton sat up. "He's had this coming for months. He was super drunk last night."
"Alexander, what if he goes to Washington with this? You could get expelled."
"It's one fucking pic, Aaron." Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Calm down."
"Who else did you send it to?" Burr insisted.
Hamilton grabbed his phone off his desk and checked his messages. "Laurens, Lafayette, Mulligan, you. Angelica Schuyler, she's the girls RA. I think she has a crush on him."
Burr shook his head and sighed. "You're so dumb, Alex."
"Oh, get over it." He tapped Burr on the head with his phone. "I didn't send one of you. None of them are going to send the picture to anyone else."
"You don't know that," Burr fretted. "Laurens will show Lee. Your brother will show his other friends."
"Lafayette is not my brother," Hamilton shot out.
Burr took a step back. "Jeez, okay. Fine, Alex. I just hope you won't do this again."
Hamilton shrugged.
As he headed to class, he received a text from Lafayette. Why do I have a picture of Jefferson's ass on my phone? Herc about choked to death on his cereal this morning.
Cause he is an ass, Hamilton replied. He was drunk last night.
You're messed up, man.
Preaching to the choir.
He silenced his phone as he went into class. He was surprised and a little disappointed to see Jefferson in his usual spot.
Jefferson watched him until he made eye contact. Then he stood and went to the front of the room where Washington was getting ready to call attendance.
"Sir?"
Washington looked up from his book. "Yes, Thomas?"
"Alexander took this last night. I don't know how many people he sent it to." With a red face, he showed the picture to Washington that he had gotten from Angelica.
Washington's lips tightened in a line and he glanced at Hamilton.
"Thomas was drunk!" Hamilton exclaimed prompting the class to jump and look at him. "Isn't that worse? He's not twenty-one and this is a dry campus."
Washington sighed. "Quiet, Alexander. I'll deal with you later. Everyone settle down." He nodded to Jefferson to take his seat.
Whispers floated through the rows along with some giggling and pointing. Jefferson's face reddened as he took his seat. Washington had to speak louder than usual to get through roll call.
Hamilton stayed behind after class, kicking his feet at the floor.
Washington pulled out a chair from the desk next to him and sat. "What were you thinking, Alexander?"
"That Thomas is a jerk," Hamilton muttered. "And a tattletale. He's been nothing but a douche to me for months. I had to get him back."
"How many people did you send the picture to?"
"Five," he mumbled.
"Give me your phone."
"What?" Hamilton reached towards his back pocket protectively.
"Now, Alexander."
"But, sir—"
Washington's stern face didn't move. "I will not ask you again."
Hamilton handed his cell over and hunched himself up small. "Sorry."
"You tell Thomas that and pray this doesn't get around campus and humiliate him further."
Hamilton nodded.
"Get to your next class."
Laurens joined him at lunch. "I was texting you."
"Washington confiscated my phone," Hamilton grumbled.
"Serves you right," Burr admonished as he sat down across from him. "That was really dumb of you. I have a hard time believing that you were never humiliated at school and wouldn't know the pain."
"You brush it off and move on," Hamilton said plainly. "He made me wet myself."
"But this is a nude pic," Laurens retaliated. "Burr might be right. It depends on if Laf or Mulligan spread it."
"You didn't show Lee?" Hamilton asked.
"No. I won't lie, I appreciate the pic but I've had shit like this of myself spread around high school and I won't be the one to further it."
"I'll apologize to Jefferson," Hamilton grumbled. "I'll tell Laf and Mulligan to delete the pics."
"Good," Laurens said.
"It's a start," Burr added.
Hamilton scanned the cafeteria and spotted his foster brother at a far table with a large group.
"Hey, shorty," Lafayette said as he approached. "Got any pics of Laurens to share?"
"Did you show anyone else?" Hamilton asked.
Lafayette chuckled. "Hell, yeah. No one likes Jefferson."
Hamilton's face paled. "Laf, I'm already in enough trouble. Don't spread it around."
"Too late, little lion."
"Fuck you." Hamilton dragged himself back to his friends and dropped into his seat. "I'm dead."
Laurens patted his back. "Better warn Thomas, and fast." He indicated across the cafeteria where Jefferson was filling his plate.
THIRTEEN
Hamilton hurried over to Jefferson and cut in the line in front of him. "I'll take you out to lunch," he sputtered. "You don't want to eat this crap food."
Jefferson's eyes narrowed. "What did you do now?"
"Please, just come with me?" Hamilton's blue-violet eyes pleaded.
"Fine." Jefferson put back the piece of pizza and set his plate in the dirty dish bin. He followed Hamilton outside into a light drizzle.
"I'm really sorry about sending out the picture," Hamilton began. "Washington took my phone and my friends set me straight about how dumb I was and how much this could hurt you."
"Could?" Jefferson frowned. "Like it's not bad enough already?"
"Lafayette didn't keep it to himself."
Jefferson shoved him. "You're a prick! God, why—" He slapped Hamilton's face.
Hamilton stepped back. "I deserve that. I'm sorry, Thomas. I'd do anything to make it right."
Jefferson seethed. "You know the fuck you can't. My ass is out there. The whole school has probably seen it by now. Stay away from me, Hamilton." He walked away and broke into a jog.
"Well, that was intense," said Laurens. He and Burr approached. "You done fucked up, man."
"How do I fix it?" Hamilton beseeched.
"Dude, that ship has sailed. It's out there. Just pray the interest doesn't last and everyone forgets in a few days."
"I'll take a picture of myself," Hamilton rambled. "A dick pic or something. That would give everyone something new to talk about. I don't care."
"Don't do it, Ham," Laurens implored. "That's a bit worse than a butt pic."
"Then I'll take a butt pic." Hamilton ran a hand through his hair. "I need to do something."
Burr and Laurens glanced at each other.
"We'll help," Burr said. "Start with deleting the pic from Lafayette's phone and see how many of his friends you can get to delete it, too. At least then they can't "accidentally" send it again."
"Okay." Hamilton headed back into the cafeteria. He charged over to Lafayette. "Give me your phone."
"Little lion's feisty," he teased.
"Lafayette, please," Hamilton begged.
"Or what?" Lafayette raised an eyebrow.
"I'll tell everyone your full name," Hamilton mumbled.
Lafayette handed his phone over.
Hamilton found the picture and deleted it and made sure it was gone from the trash as well. "Your friends need to delete it, too. I'll still reveal your full name."
Lafayette sighed. "Hey, guys," he addressed his friends. "Butthead here needs everyone to delete the pic of Jefferson's ass. I'd appreciate it."
Hamilton cringed at how many pulled their phones out, but at least they were complying. At least that's what he thought until he heard phones dinging all over the cafeteria and realized the horror. He smacked his foster brother hard against the back of his head. "I hate you."
Tears burned his eyes as he ran out of the cafeteria. Laurens and Burr caught up to him at their dorm building.
"Shit man, that was low of Lafayette," Laurens tried to console. "That wasn't your fault."
"I can't make it right!" Hamilton sobbed.
Laurens pulled him close and stroked his neck. "It'll blow over and Jefferson will just be an annoying douche and not the annoying douche with a nice ass."
Burr walked ahead towards their dorm room and put his key in but found it already unlocked. He pushed the door open slowly and found Jefferson sitting on Hamilton's bed. His face was red and puffy from crying. "Thomas…"
Hamilton pushed past Burr and dropped to his knees in front of his bed. "I'm sorry! I really am. I tried to make it better and I keep making it worse. I know you can't forgive me. I don't expect it. I'll take a pic of myself. I'll do whatever you want. I tried!"
Jefferson looked to Laurens and Burr, flabbergasted. He tears stopped at the dramatics. "Alex…" He'd never seen someone look so pathetic, not even Madison at his worst. Hamilton was slumped back on his heels, head down, hands defeated in his lap. His messy red hair stuck up everywhere and his face was flushed and wet. Even his clothes were rumpled and pathetic. "Alex." Jefferson nudged him with his foot. "Get up."
Hamilton jumped to his feet. With Jefferson sitting, they were closer to eye level.
"I forgive you."
Fresh tears leaked down Hamilton's cheeks. "Thank you!" He threw himself at Jefferson. "I'll never make fun of you again. I'll never do something like this to anyone again. I'm so sorry."
Jefferson pushed him off. "Calm down. Jesus." He looked at Laurens and Burr. "Is he always this dramatic?"
They both gave a half shrug.
"I can still try to make this better," Hamilton insisted. "I can talk to Lafayette again. I can—"
"No," Jefferson stopped him. "What's done is done. I just have to wait for it to blow over."
"I can put my pic out there—"
"Why are you so desperate to show off your dick?" Laurens interrupted. "Calm down, Alex. You're, like, at a twenty and you need to be at a three."
Hamilton sucked in a deep breath. "Okay."
"Thank you," Jefferson muttered.
"Um, how did you get in here?" Burr asked.
"Angelica Schuyler," Jefferson said. "She has a master key. She's pretty pissed at you, too, Alex."
Hamilton ducked his head.
Jefferson slipped off the bed. "Well, I've had enough of you and I've missed class. I'm sure our paths will continue to cross much too often."
Hamilton grabbed Jefferson's sleeve. "I'm really sorry."
"I already forgave you," Jefferson said and yanked away. "Don't continue to irritate me."
Hamilton nodded.
Burr and Laurens got out of the way and closed the door behind Jefferson.
Hamilton looked at them. "What do I do?"
"Let it go," Laurens said. "He forgave you and now you pray this ends fast."
Burr handed Hamilton a tissue. "And you don't do it again to anybody."
Hamilton blew his nose. "I won't."
"Don't do it to yourself either, you dumbass," Laurens chided.
Jefferson endured a week of teasing and whistles. He was slapped on the behind more times than he cared to remember and had a collection of numbers from guys and girls. His focus deteriorated and he let Hamilton pick up the slack in class. Washington didn't punish him for underage drinking, at least.
The first day he made it through without any comments was like Christmas.
Three days later, Laurens broke the streak by giving him a low whistle but Jefferson let it go, not bothered as much by the teasing from Hamilton's friends. He had seen a different side of them, a side that actually had some empathy and not just sex-crazed, loudmouths. Madison was always a better judge of character and maybe he was onto something in his interest of Hamilton.
FOURTEEN
"What're you doing for winter break?" Hamilton asked Burr after they exhausted themselves with studying for finals. He cracked open their stash of junk food and tossed Burr a bag of chips and took a fruit rollup for himself.
"Hoping my uncle lets me return for the month," Burr said. He popped a chip in his mouth.
"I bet Washington would let you stay with us." Hamilton sat on Burr's bed and opened his snack. He lay back and dropped his feet in Burr's lap.
"I'd feel weird," Burr mumbled. "He's my teacher."
"How do you think I feel?" Hamilton replied as he peeled apart the fruit rollup. "Think about it. Better that than getting beat up by your uncle, right?"
"He's never hit me." Burr stared into his chip bag. "He's just never cared about me."
Hamilton picked the sticky treat out of his teeth. "I see."
They finished eating in silence. Hamilton sat up and checked his phone. "What time do your finals start tomorrow?"
"Nine." Burr rubbed his eyes. "I'm done at one."
"Same. Want to go out for lunch afterward?"
"Sure."
Hamilton yawned and slid off the bed. "It's after ten. I'm gonna shower and go to bed."
Burr caught his yawn. "I'll be asleep before you're done."
He was right. Hamilton closed the door quietly when he returned from the bathroom. He turned on the light above his bed and tossed his towel on the floor. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"Alex?"
Hamilton jumped. "Shit, I thought you were asleep."
Burr propped himself up and turned on his light. "Sorry. I thought I was tired, then I started freaking myself out about finals and now I can't relax."
"We can talk more," Hamilton said. He dragged his bed away from the wall and shoved it next to Burr's. He turned off his light, climbed on top, and lay down so that they were side by side. "What do you want to talk about?"
"What's your favorite movie?" Burr asked. He reached up to turn off his light. He found Hamilton's silhouette in the dark and smiled. He'd never been to a slumber party before. Never stayed up late talking to someone in the dark.
"I'm really into, like, the Avengers and Thor right now," Hamilton said.
They talked of movies and TV. They talked of books and places they wanted to go. Midnight came and went. As two in the morning stole closer, Burr's eyes grew heavy and silence slipped in longer between them.
"Hey, Aaron," Hamilton whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Good night."
Burr reached towards him and Hamilton squeezed his hand. He kissed Burr's fingertips and fell asleep with his hand clasped in Burr's.
Burr's alarm went off at eight and it took him a minute to orientate where he was with Hamilton's bed beside him. He grabbed his phone from under his pillow and turned off the noise. He crawled to the end of his bed to get out. Hamilton remained asleep sprawled out half on Burr's bed. Burr dressed and shook Hamilton awake.
"What?" Hamilton mumbled and rubbed his eyes.
"It's after eight," Burr said.
"Shit." Hamilton swung his legs over the side of his bed. "How late did we stay up?"
"Like, two."
"Let's get coffee before class."
Burr made a face. "Not a fan."
"Weirdo." Hamilton pushed his bed back in place and grabbed a pair of jeans and boxers from his dresser. "You alright if I change?"
"Yeah." Burr turned away to make his bed. "I was sort of watching you last night."
Hamilton chuckled as he dropped his sweatpants. "See anything you like?"
"Dunno." Burr glanced over his shoulder and found Hamilton watching him. His face flushed and he turned back.
"You know I'm bi, right?" Hamilton said pulling on his boxers.
"Yes." Burr fluffed up his pillow. "I don't know what I am."
"College is a good time to experiment, find out who you are." Hamilton zipped and buttoned his jeans. He slipped on a long-sleeve t-shirt. "Laurens and I aren't dating if that concerns you. Although…" He made a face. "I made an agreement with him that roommates were off limits. I could renegotiate, though."
Burr turned around, face still red. "I don't know."
Hamilton smiled. "Okay." He opened the wardrobe to find a sweatshirt. "Hey, do you have a hoodie I can borrow? I'm lacking warm clothes. I hate winter."
"Yeah." Burr opened his wardrobe and tossed him a gray pullover.
Hamilton smiled as he pulled if over his head. He and Burr were near the same height but Burr's extra weight made the hoodie comfortably warm and baggy. "Thanks."
They ate mini muffins from their food stash, used the bathroom, brushed their teeth and headed to finals.
Hamilton grew giddy as the last day approached. He was eager to return to the Washington's, eager for Christmas in two weeks. He had aced all his finals and couldn't wait to show Washington his 4.0 GPA, even though he knew Washington knew what Hamilton had scored in his own classes.
"Pleases, come stay with me," he begged Burr as they packed up their dorm. They would leave most of their belongings behind since they'd share the same room next semester.
"I'd feel weird," Burr said. "My uncle is okay with me returning."
"For a weekend?" Hamilton held his hands together pleadingly.
Burr chuckled. "Okay."
Hamilton grinned. "Sweet!"
A knock sounded on their door.
"Probably my ride," Hamilton said. He opened the door and took a step back in surprise to see Jefferson standing there. "Um, are you lost?"
"No." Jefferson frowned. "God, you're short." He bent down and smashed his lips into Hamilton's for several seconds. "Merry Christmas." He yanked the door closed.
"What the fuck?" Hamilton exclaimed. He looked wide-eyed at Burr. "What the fuck?"
Burr giggled. "He's either messing with you or he actually likes you."
"I'm going with the first one." Hamilton wiped his mouth. "He's in love with his friend James. Plus I was really mean to him. Blech. I need a drink."
Burr handed him a water bottle.
"Alcohol," Hamilton said.
"Hell, yeah. I have a fake ID."
Hamilton grinned. "Good to know."
Another knock sounded on the door. Burr answered it this time.
"Hello, Aaron," Washington said with a smile. "Ready, Alex?"
"Yes, sir." Hamilton shouldered his backpack and pointed to the two boxes on his bed. "Those go with."
Washington lifted up both boxes.
Hamilton turned towards Burr. "Let me know, okay? I got you a Christmas present. I stuffed it in your backpack."
Burr smiled. "I hid one in your box, too."
"Hug?" Hamilton asked.
Burr embraced him. "Take care, Alex."
"You, too."
It was snowing as Washington and Hamilton headed to the Cadillac. Hamilton opened the trunk and hurried into the passenger seat out of the cold.
"Well, my boy, I'm glad you made a friend," Washington said as he buckled his seatbelt.
"John's my friend, too," Hamilton said, pleased with himself.
"Yeah… I prefer Aaron." Washington backed the car up and headed for the Estates. "Martha is making chicken for dinner. She can't wait to see you. She said the dogs are all excited, too."
Hamilton grinned. "I have a surprise for both of you."
"Should I be afraid?" Washington raised an eyebrow.
"No." His smile widened and he struggled not to spill his GPA right then.
Washington mirrored his smile. "I can't wait."
The house was warm and filled with yapping dogs. Hamilton hurried into Mrs. Washington's embrace and greeted each of the tiny dogs. Then he couldn't contain himself any longer and grabbed his report card from his backpack.
"4.0!" he shouted and shoved the paper at Washington.
Washington beamed and Mrs. Washington hugged him again.
"We're so proud of you, dear!"
Washington nodded, eyes glistening. "Good boy, Alex."
Hamilton smiled up at him. "Thank you, Dad."
FIFTEEN
When he saw Madison on Saturday, Jefferson convinced him that he had to return to campus on Monday in order to surprise Madison at school.
He waited in the pick-up lane, scanning the crowd of students. With his long hair tucked in his black peacoat, Jefferson almost didn't notice Madison. Although, the purple hat with a big sparkly pompom should have been a giveaway. He watched Madison trudge over to the usual spot his mom picked him up, eyes on the ground. It wasn't until he was a few feet away that he looked up and saw Jefferson.
"Thomas!" Madison hurried the last few feet and wrapped his arms around Jefferson. "You lied to me, didn't you?"
Jefferson tugged Madison's backpack off and lifted him up. "Yeah. Worth it?"
"Totally."
Jefferson carried him to the passenger side and set him inside the warm truck. He stowed Madison's backpack in the back seat and got inside. "Do you want to get hot chocolate?"
"Please." Madison beamed at him.
Jefferson drove to a nearby coffee shop. Inside he ordered their hot chocolate while Madison peered at the baked goods display. "Need a snack?"
Madison pointed to a brownie.
Jefferson added the brownie and a piece of pumpkin bread to his order.
They found a table in a corner and took off their coats. Jefferson leaned over the table to smooth down Madison's static hair after he pulled off his hat. "Four more days and you'll be on Christmas break," he said.
"Will you pick me up each day?" Madison asked. He bit into his brownie.
"I'd be happy to." Jefferson smiled at him. "Don't expect to go out every afternoon but we can do something again on Friday."
"Okay."
Their hot chocolate order was called and Jefferson got up to grab the cups.
"I do wish you had been cooler in high school," Madison said as he took his cup. "That way everyone would be jealous when they see me get in your truck."
"Sorry," Jefferson said. He blew on his drink. "Anything you want to do while we're both off?"
"Maybe we could go sledding in the mountains?"
"Sure."
"Could I invite Alex?"
Jefferson took a larger sip than anticipated and burned his tongue. "I dunno." Since Hamilton had apologized for the picture and had been sincere about teasing him no longer, Jefferson had decided not to tell Madison and effect his friendship with the obnoxious boy. Nor did he want to see Hamilton so soon after kissing him, which he hoped terrified Hamilton enough to keep him away from himself and Madison. "When was the last time you even talked to him?"
Madison shrugged. "Been a while. Maybe we just go over to the Washington's house for dinner? You know they'd like that."
Jefferson sighed. "Maybe. That sounds a little less draining than a long drive with him."
Madison patted his hand. "Thanks." He chewed a bite of brownie. "How were your finals?"
"4.0." Jefferson broke off a piece of pumpkin bread and popped it in his mouth.
"Dang, T." Madison smiled. "Hot and smart."
Jefferson shook his head, cheeks reddening.
"Oh, come on." Madison stroked his fingers. "You're way better looking than I am."
Jefferson rolled his eyes. "You're adorable." He cupped Madison's face in his hands. "Look at this little face. It's perfect." He kissed his friend's nose.
"Ugh, you're being weird," mumbled Madison as his own cheeks turned pink.
Jefferson smirked and sipped his drink. He prompted Madison to talk about school as they finished their snacks.
Done, Jefferson helped Madison into his coat and drove them to Montpelier.
"Can you stay for dinner?" Madison asked as Jefferson drove through the front gate.
"Yeah," Jefferson said. He parked in the driveway. They hurried inside out of a sudden chill wind.
The Washington's and their foster sons sat down for dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Everyone had plenty to say over the excitement of school being out for a month and having dinner together again other than on the occasional Sunday night.
"Are you up for Christmas shopping this year, Alex?" Washington asked as he used a breadstick to clean up the sauce on his plate.
Hamilton paused in eating as last year's break down over so much money being spent on him and his fear of having to leave or being kicked out resurfaced. He wasn't a child anymore, though. He wouldn't cry in the middle of a toy store this time. "I think so."
"Good."
Mrs. Washington patted his hand. "You and Laf can go off by yourselves if you want."
Hamilton shook his head. "I have no idea what size I wear."
"We'll go on Friday," Washington said. "If we go early, we can miss some of the crowd before school gets out."
"Awesome," Lafayette said.
The family finished dinner and the Washington's retired to the family room with the dogs while the boys did the dishes.
Hamilton cleared the table while Lafayette loaded the dishwasher. While they had never become that close, a distant silence settled between them as they worked without looking at the other.
"Don't blame me for what you did to Jefferson," Lafayette said as they finished. "You took the picture."
"But you sent it to everyone," Hamilton countered. "That was far worse than what I did."
Lafayette shook his head. "You started it."
"I sent it to five people." Hamilton let a plate clatter into the dishwasher. "You sent it to, like, fifty."
Lafayette grabbed Hamilton's wrist. "I'm not to blame for your stupidity."
Hamilton struggled to pull free and Lafayette's grip tightened. "I'll tell Dad."
Lafayette squeezed even tighter for a second and Hamilton whimpered in pain. "Don't be a snitch, Alexander. This is still your fault." He let go and left the kitchen.
Hamilton rubbed his red wrist. He added detergent to the dishwasher and started it. He went into the family room slowly, mind in a thousand different directions.
Mrs. Washington sat on the couch with several dogs, hands busy knitting a hat.
Washington had the footrest propped up on the recliner, iPad in hand. Family Feud played on TV. Nothing had changed.
"Are you alright, Alexander?" Mrs. Washington asked.
Hamilton sat on the floor to pet some of the dogs. "Yeah."
"Don't stress about shopping," Washington said. "We won't force you to go or pick out anything."
"I want to go," Hamilton mumbled. He kept his eyes on the dogs and reached over to pet the newest member of the family: a fat, old Chihuahua named Potato. His shirtsleeve rode up and he quickly tugged it back over his red wrist. Potato growled at him and jumped on the couch.
"Alex?" Washington set his iPad aside and pushed down the recliner. "What happened?"
Hamilton coaxed the terrier mix, Potomac, over instead and buried his face against him. "Lafayette."
Mrs. Washington's knitting needles froze.
"He hurt you?" Washington asked. "Come here, Alex."
Hamilton crawled onto Washington's lap even while embarrassed about being so needy and childish.
Washington examined his wrist, which while remaining red hadn't bruised.
"Lafayette sent the picture of Jefferson to a ton more people than I did but I know it's still my fault," Hamilton whispered and sniffled.
"I'm guessing Laf doesn't want me to know?" Washington asked.
Hamilton nodded.
Washington looked to his wife. "We can't have you, boys, hurting each other. I'll talk to Lafayette."
"No," Hamilton said with a grimace. "I just want this to be over. I apologized to Thomas. He forgave me. I want to move on."
"Understandable," Washington said. He rubbed Hamilton's back. "But I'm not going to let anyone lay a hand on you. I won't mention the photo."
"Okay." Hamilton sniffled again.
"Go sit with Mom." Washington nudged him off the recliner.
Hamilton moved to the couch and rested his head on Mrs. Washington's shoulder. She stroked his cheek. "Do you think John will like these colors?" She showed him the half-finished green and blue hat.
Hamilton managed a smile. "Yeah, he'll like that."
"Good. I made one for James already and made sure he had it as soon as it grew cold. I'm thinking John won't want a pompom on his?"
"Probably not." Hamilton grabbed one of the throw blankets and snuggled under it.
A few minutes later, Lafayette and Washington shouting from upstairs shattered the peace.
"Alex never gets in trouble!" Lafayette yelled. "You like him better. I've been here longer!"
Washington's lower voice was harder to hear but a door slamming followed it. He returned downstairs.
"Dear?" Mrs. Washington questioned.
"He'll be fine," Washington said as he returned to his seat.
"I'll check on him before bedtime," Mrs. Washington said.
"That would be good." Washington sighed. "His relationship with you hasn't become as strained."
"Because of me?" Hamilton questioned from beneath his burrow.
"No, son," Washington assured. "It's been harder for Laf and me to see eye to eye since he's grown older."
On Friday, Jefferson headed to the high school after lunch and found a parking spot. He headed inside getting major flashbacks to his years there and wanting to flee as fast as possible. He headed into the office where the receptionist greeted him with a smile.
"It's been too long, Thomas," she said. "Here to pick up James? His mom said he was to be taken out early today."
"Yeah," Jefferson said. "He's in math, right?"
"Yes."
Jefferson left the office and headed through the quiet halls and listened to the murmurs in the classrooms. He stopped at Madison's locker to grab his coat and hat. He took a deep breath before he knocked on the classroom door and his face grew hot as half the class turned to look at the window in the door. Madison hadn't and remained bent over his notebook.
The teacher moved to the back of the room and opened the door. "James, your ride is here early."
Madison's head snapped up and he looked over his shoulder. He scrambled out of his seat at once, the chair smacking into the desk behind him and sending the student's pencil clattering to the floor.
Jefferson grinned at him as Madison hurried to grab his stuff, his face flushed, a smile tugging at his lips. He closed the door quietly behind them and swapped the coat for Madison's backpack. "Surprised?"
"Shit, I love you," Madison gushed. He stared up at Jefferson with dilated pupils beneath his long eyelashes.
"Good." Jefferson tugged the hat Mrs. Washington had made over James' head and took his hand. "Want to go to the mall and make your Christmas present?"
"A Build a Bear?" Madison asked with a skip.
"Yup."
"Sweet!"
SIXTEEN
Lafayette calmed down, although he and Hamilton remained silent to each other, and Lafayette made it clear he was only going to shop with Mrs. Washington.
Hamilton and Washington wandered around the department store without direction since it was the other two who knew how to shop.
"Where did you get your clothes last year?" Washington finally asked.
"Aeropostale," Hamilton said.
"I have no idea where that is."
"Somewhere out there." Hamilton pointed out the department store.
They headed into the crowd and noise of the mall and searched out the store. Once found, they browsed through the displays without direction.
"Do you think I can pull off orange?" Hamilton asked and held up an orange hoodie against himself.
Washington chuckled. "I'm sorry, but no."
"Drat." Hamilton put it back. "What about green?"
"Better."
"I don't know what size." Hamilton looked through the rack.
"Small I would imagine," Washington said.
Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Thanks. Check the tag of the one I'm wearing."
Washington pulled back his shirt to check. "Small."
"Fine," Hamilton grumbled. After more searching and trying things on, he found three new tops and a pair of jeans.
Washington paid for the clothes and took the bag. "Where to next?"
Hamilton shrugged. "I'm good."
"You need new boots."
Hamilton glanced down at his scuffed and worn combat boots. "I suppose."
They searched out a shoe store and Hamilton tried on a few pairs before he found one he liked.
Afterward, they wandered around browsing through random stores for fun until Mrs. Washington texted to say they would meet them at Build a Bear.
As the family entered the store together, Hamilton froze.
Towering over a gaggle of pre-teens, Jefferson stood behind Madison, hands in his pockets, while the lady at the stuffing machine let Madison work the pedal to stuff his new reindeer.
The kiss haunted him and Hamilton was far from ready to be anywhere near Jefferson, although part of him was certain it had been payback for their first meeting when Hamilton had tried to kiss him. Hamilton's lip twitched at the realization that that had been Lafayette's doing, too.
"Alex?" Washington returned to his side. "Change your mind?"
Hamilton nodded.
"Is it because of Thomas?" Washington glanced back into the store. Madison finished stuffing his reindeer and handed it to Jefferson to hold.
Hamilton shrugged.
"It would be best to put that behind you," Washington said and rested a hand on Hamilton's shoulder. "Yes, it was dumb, but all is forgiven and it's time to move on. Didn't you want to make the wooly mammoth?"
"No, it's fine." Hamilton pulled away. "Can I go wait in the car?"
Washington sighed and pulled out his car keys. "Careful walking through the parking lot; it's slippery."
Hamilton took the keys and hurried away.
"Where'd Alex go?" Madison asked as he finished the stuffing process. "The rest are still here."
Jefferson shrugged. "Pick out what else you want."
"Just a sec." Madison headed towards Mrs. Washington. "Hi."
Mrs. Washington smiled. "Hello, dear. Christmas shopping?"
"Yup!" He bit his lip. "Where did Alex go? I haven't seen him in a while."
Mrs. Washington glanced towards her husband waiting near the entrance, as the store remained crowded. "He must have changed his mind." She smiled at Jefferson. "Can you boys come over for dinner on Sunday?"
"For sure!" Madison said.
"I can't," said Jefferson.
Madison shot him an irritated look before he smiled back at Mrs. Washington. "I'll let you know."
"Alright, dear." She tucked his hair back and worry creased her forehead. "You feel warm, Jemmy. Are you alright?"
"Yeah."
Mrs. Washington nodded and let them return to their shopping.
Madison pulled Jefferson towards the clothing section. "Why do you hate Alex so much?" he hissed. "You're pushing everyone away. Again. I want to have friends, Thomas."
"We'll discuss this later," Jefferson said under his breath. "Finish your shopping."
"I don't want your presents." Madison turned away from him. "I'm glad you're not my boyfriend."
Jefferson reached around Madison and pressed a hand to his forehead. "You are really warm."
Madison pushed him back while plucking his sweater and long-sleeve shirt away from his chest.
"I have to get you home." Jefferson steered Madison through the crowded store. "Wait with Washington and I'll get your reindeer."
"No!" Madison jerked away and tried to make a run for it but a crowd of girls stopped him.
"Washington," Jefferson raised his voice above the giggling girls and gestured towards Madison and hoped he'd understand Madison was in crisis mode.
Washington caught Madison before he left the store. "Easy, son," he soothed. "You're feverish. Let's get your sweater off." He caught Jefferson's eye and nodded to let him know he had things handled.
Jefferson got in the long line to pay and dug his nails into the palm of his hand.
Washington helped Madison out of his sweater.
Madison's face was red, his eyes glassy. He stumbled on his feet and whimpered.
"Let's go outside," Washington said and took Madison's hand.
Madison cried and pulled at his shirt.
Washington dragged him faster, well aware that Madison was prone to seizures if his temperature rose. He hurried toward the main entrance, which took them through the food court.
Madison yanked on Washington's hand and stopped.
"What, Jemmy?" Washington touched Madison's burning cheek. "It's too warm in here for you."
Madison pointed to the smoothie stand. "Strawberry banana."
"I'll get you one," Washington said, "but you're allergic to both of those ingredients."
"Strawberry banana!"
"Alright." Washington got in line; thankful only one person was ahead of him. He kept his eye on Madison who continued to fidget and tug at his clothes.
Washington stared at the menu wondering what to order. "Anything that is similar to strawberry banana?" he asked the employee when it was his turn. "He's allergic."
"Um." The young man glanced at the fussy Madison. "Orange, maybe."
"That's fine." He pulled out his wallet.
Two minutes later, he dragged Madison outside and handed over the smoothie.
Madison took a long sip and closed his eyes.
Washington touched his forehead, praying he wasn't about to seize or throw a tantrum because the drink was wrong.
But he was calm and allowed Washington to lead him to a nearby table. Washington texted Jefferson to let him know where they were.
It was another fifteen minutes before Jefferson managed to get out of the store. Mrs. Washington and Lafayette were still in line. He found Washington with Madison asleep in his arms, empty smoothie cup on the table.
"Sorry," Jefferson said as he set his things down and lifted Madison into his arms. "How much was his drink?"
"It's nothing, son," Washington said with a wave of his hand. "He knows he's allergic to strawberries and bananas, right?"
"Yeah." Jefferson stroked Madison's hair. "Did you get him orange? That's what he actually likes."
"Yes." Washington picked up the Build a Bear box and Madison's coat. "I'll help you get him in your truck. Do you think he's alright?"
"He feels cooler." Jefferson led the way to his truck. Every step seemed heavier with the weight of Madison's illness. He managed to get his car keys out of his pocket and handed them to Washington.
Washington opened the passenger seat and put the box in the back seat.
Madison whimpered as Jefferson set him on the seat. He shivered and drew his legs close to his chest. Washington draped him with his coat.
"Let us know how he is," he said.
Jefferson nodded and got in the driver's seat and started the truck.
Washington watched him drive off and tried to remember where he parked the Cadillac. Hamilton was probably bored out of his mind by now. Not to mention all the gas he likely wasted by running the car.
Hamilton lay across the backseat playing on his phone when Washington tapped on the window. He unlocked the doors. "What took so long?"
"Long lines and James got sick," Washington explained about Madison's sudden fever, which always rendered him feeble and childish.
"Will he be okay?" Hamilton asked and crawled into the front seat.
"I'm sure he will be." Washington turned down the heat.
"I feel bad ignoring him during college." Hamilton fiddled with his phone. "Has he always been like this?"
"Sickly? Yes." Washington watched his foster son. "He was born premature and in the NICU for the first month of his life. He had trouble breathing and ended up with pneumonia twice before his first birthday. When his brothers were born in the next four years, he grew even sicker. Martha watched him often since his health and two other babies were a bit much." He sighed. "We contemplated asking the Madison's to let us adopt him but we knew they loved Jemmy too pieces and wouldn't appreciate the offer."
Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail and didn't comment. If the Washington's had adopted James, he knew they would never have ended up fostering him and the thought was too painful to bear.
Mrs. Washington and Lafayette returned fifteen minutes later and loaded the bags in the trunk.
Hamilton returned to the back seat and stared out the window.
SEVENTEEN
Jefferson texted Mrs. Madison while he waited at a stoplight to let her know Madison was sick.
She met them at the backdoor and took her son's temperature: 103.
"Get him in a cool bath," Mrs. Madison instructed as the baby monitor on the kitchen counter erupted with cries from newborn Bess. "Use the guest bathroom. There is Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. Give him two." She hurried out of the kitchen.
Jefferson carried a now-sweating Madison upstairs while Madison beat him weakly in the chest. He set Madison on the floor and turned on the tub. It was smaller and easier to keep Madison from drowning in it than the Jacuzzi tub in Madison's bathroom.
He found the medicine and Madison took it without a fuss.
"Let's get you undressed," Jefferson murmured but didn't know what to do. He didn't want just to start pulling his friend's clothes off but Madison also wasn't in a helpful state. "Alright, Jemmy, arms up." He tugged Madison's shirt over his head. "Can you get your pants off?"
Madison's glassy eyes stared through him and his body swayed.
Well, he wasn't going to let his friend suffer a seizure. Jefferson undid his jeans and tugged them down. He set Madison on the counter to finish getting the tight jeans over his feet. "You can keep your shorts on," he mumbled and set Madison on the floor.
Madison stripped anyway and almost fell.
Red-faced and trying not to look, Jefferson helped him in the tub. He soaked a washcloth and wrapped it around Madison's neck.
How long was he supposed to leave him in the water, Jefferson wondered. He hated to call Mrs. Madison when she had her hands full with the baby.
He didn't need to, though, as she knocked on the door five minutes later. She let herself in, bouncing Bess in her arms. "How is he?"
"Out of it," Jefferson said.
"I know you're not comfortable taking care of him like this," Mrs. Madison said, "but I appreciate it. When his father isn't home, I can't carry him and his brothers won't help."
"It's fine," Jefferson said. "Good practice for later." He chewed on his lip. Did he really want this to be his life?
"Thank you, Thomas." Mrs. Madison patted Bess' bottom. "Take Jemmy's temperature again and if it's going down, you can get him out of the water. If—"
"Mommy!" Four-year-old Sarah ran down the hall towards them. "William threw up!"
Mrs. Madison sighed. "They're always at their worst on the nanny's day off. Thank you, Thomas." She pulled the door shut and dealt with the other children.
Jefferson found a thermometer and stuck in under Madison's tongue.
Madison whimpered.
"Shh, love." Jefferson stroked his hair. "Almost done."
The thermometer beeped: 101.
"Alright, time to get you out, Jemmy." Jefferson grabbed a towel. "Can you stand?"
Madison shook his head.
"Okay, so…" Jefferson ran a hand down his chin. Time to get over his embarrassment of Madison's nakedness. This was going to be his life. Better buck up now.
He rolled up his sleeves and pulled the plug on the tub. As the water drained, he tucked an arm under Madison's legs and scooped him out. He set Madison on the towel and wrapped him up snug.
He carried Madison to his bedroom and set him on the bed. Jefferson found clean socks, underwear, and pajamas, and dressed Madison while he shivered. He tucked Madison in tight under the covers and his weighted blanket. "Good?"
"Have to pee," whispered Madison.
Jefferson yanked at his ear. "Okay."
Ten minutes later, he had Madison returned to his pile of blankets and sank down himself next to him. "Well, I'm exhausted." He glanced at Madison, asleep, and a smile tugged at his lips. He kissed Madison's forehead. "I love you."
The Washington's had a house full over the winter break. Mulligan dropped by often to play video games with Lafayette along with a few of his high school friends.
Madison stopped by several times with his mom to have hot chocolate and tea with Mrs. Washington. Hamilton avoided him the first time, embarrassed by his lack of communication over the past four months. He sucked it up the second time and joined him in the front room to drink hot chocolate. The women sat in the nearby armchairs.
"How are you?" he mumbled. "I heard you were sick again."
"Been better," admitted Madison. "I missed you."
"I'm sorry." Hamilton studied the marshmallows melting in his drink. "There was a lot going on at college."
"It takes two seconds to send a smiley face." Madison's eyes bore into his bent head. "Thomas said you've been a jerk."
Hamilton cringed. Had Jefferson told him about the butt pic? "We didn't get a very good first impression of each other. Or second… or third." The awkward kiss resurfaced in his mind. Maybe that had been punishment for his abandonment of Madison instead of payback. It definitely felt more like a punishment.
"I'll mediate," Madison said. He tucked his sock-clad feet under himself on the couch. "I'm going to the same college as you guys next fall. You'll like each other once you get to know each other better."
Hamilton forced a smile. "Sure." He sipped his hot chocolate. "I'm glad you're going to the same school. For law, too, right?"
Madison nodded. He turned away to cough.
Mrs. Madison stopped mid-sentence in her conversation with Mrs. Washington. "Are you alright, Jemmy?"
Madison nodded again and reached for his drink. He coughed harder before he could take a sip.
"Maybe you should lie down," Mrs. Madison said. She stood and stepped around the coffee table to touch his forehead.
"I'm—" Madison hacked "—fine."
Hamilton scooted further down the couch, not wanting to catch any germs.
"He can lie down upstairs," Mrs. Washington said. "Alex, show him the guest room."
Concerned, Hamilton stood and led Madison upstairs. "You alright?"
"Like I said, I've been better," Madison said and coughed. "I had a few seizures before Christmas break."
"I'm sorry." Hamilton opened the door to the middle bedroom with the two twin-size beds and flipped on the light.
Madison pulled the blankets back on one and lay down.
"Should I…stay with you?" Hamilton asked.
Madison gave a nasty crackly cough. "I'm fine."
"Yeah…" Hamilton turned off the light and sat down on the other bed. He propped up a pillow and pulled out his phone.
Madison continued to cough and Hamilton got up once to get him some water. Eventually, the room fell silent and Hamilton dozed off himself.
"Alexander," Mrs. Washington said and touched his arm.
Hamilton squinted. "Is James alright?" he rubbed his eyes.
"Yes. He and his mom are getting ready to leave. You don't feel ill yourself, do you?" She touched his cheek. "You're not one to nap."
Hamilton managed a smile. "Nah, I'm fine." He got off the bed and followed Mrs. Washington downstairs.
Madison's face looked paler than usual against the collar of his black pea coat.
"See you, squirt," Hamilton told him and got a smile from the tired face.
As soon as the Madison's left, Hamilton turned to Mrs. Washington. "Dad said James was really sick as a baby. Is he always going to be like this?"
"Likely so," Mrs. Washington said. "He has a weak immune system. Even a mild fever can send him into seizures and he has asthma. He's been in the hospital so many times. His parents are very protective of him."
"Thomas is, too, I would imagine."
Mrs. Washington looked at him. "Yes. Dad said you and Thomas are very competitive against each other."
"I don't like him," Hamilton admitted. "He's standoffish or something."
"He's not as bubbly as Jemmy, that's for sure." Mrs. Washington collected the cups from the front room. "Do try to get along with him, Alex. I know we would all appreciate that."
"Yes, ma'am."
EIGHTEEN
Burr refused to let Hamilton pick him up from his uncle's house and met him at the first of the three bus stops that would have taken him to the Estates.
"I grew up barefoot and impoverished," said Hamilton when Burr got in the front seat of the Cadillac. "Whatever your uncle's house looks like couldn't be worse."
Burr shook his head. "Don't go there. My uncle doesn't do guests."
Hamilton nodded and changed the subject. "I love the stuffed bear you got me. He's very cuddly."
Burr grinned. "Good. I thought you needed something to snuggle with. Thank you for the journal. You must have noticed I almost finished my last one?"
"Yeah. I never read it, though."
Burr rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you're lying and I appreciate that this one locks."
Hamilton pulled into the garage. "You don't mind dogs, right?"
"No…"
The sound of yapping met their ears as they got out of the car.
"Shit, how many dogs does Washington have?" Burr asked.
"Mrs. Washington adopted a new one so they're at six." Hamilton pushed the door to the kitchen open. "The new one is named Potato. She doesn't like anyone except Mom."
The fat Chihuahua ran towards Hamilton yipping and snarling.
"Potato!" Mrs. Washington scolded in a soft voice. The tiny dog ran towards her all wags and excited yaps. She picked up the dog. "Hello, Aaron. It's nice to meet you." She had to raise her voice over the chorus over the other dogs.
Hamilton rattled off their names to Burr as they made their way into the house. "You can put your bag upstairs."
Potato growled at them from Mrs. Washington's arms as they walked past.
"Wow," Burr mumbled. "I never imagined Washington's house to be chaotic."
Hamilton chuckled. "It's busier than you'd expect. You want to sleep in my room?" He pushed open his bedroom door.
Burr looked at the queen-size bed. "Um…"
"I promise I'm not coming onto you," Hamilton said and regretted his promise to Laurens. "I want to stay up late talking and eating crap."
"Okay." Burr set his bag on the floor. He smiled at the stuffed bear propped on the pillows. It was the one given to him at Goodwill when he bought his college interview clothes. He hadn't been sure if Hamilton was the type to appreciate stuffed animals and had wondered about the lack of personal effects on his side of the room. Burr barely had anything himself and took solace from the stuffed animals he'd purchased as a teenager. Everyone needed something to cry into late at night.
The boys stayed in Hamilton's room until dinner. Lafayette was out, leaving the boys to eat with the Washington's. Burr remained quiet through the meal, only speaking when asked a question but he enjoyed the chatter between Mrs. Washington and Hamilton about the dogs.
The boys bundled up and took the dogs outside after dinner.
"What do you want to do tonight?" Hamilton asked. "The Washington's usually watch TV so we can't watch a movie or anything."
"Doesn't matter," Burr said and hugged himself against the cold. "I think the dogs are ready to go in." He pointed to the cluster of dogs waiting by the door.
When they headed in through the family room, they found Washington putting on his coat. "Martha and I are going to the church to play bingo," he said. "You boys can have the house to yourself. We'll be home around ten."
"Okay," Hamilton said.
They watched the Washington's leave.
"Now, what do you want to do?" Hamilton asked.
"What movies do you have?" Burr asked.
They returned to the family room and Hamilton opened the cabinet under the TV. "I have no idea what our options are." He ran his finger over the titles, a lot of old westerns and classics. A few comedies that were more recent were mixed in and they found one to their liking.
Hamilton put in the DVD. "Do you want popcorn? Something to drink?"
"Yeah," Burr said and followed Hamilton into the kitchen.
Hamilton found stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave and found cans of coke.
Once the popcorn was done, the boys headed back into the family room. The dogs followed the food and sat with them, begging for a handout.
The movie ended before the Washington's returned home. The boys revisited the kitchen and raided the fridge and cupboards for more snacks. Oreos and milk, cheese and crackers, and more coke, they headed up to Hamilton's room. Hamilton grabbed his laptop and they searched out funny YouTube videos.
A little after ten, the dogs alerted to the garage door opening. Hamilton turned down the volume on his laptop.
A few minutes later, the pack of dogs ran down the hallway to the master bedroom. Already giggly with sugar, the boys laughed at the sound of the scurrying dogs.
"Good night, boys," Washington said as he passed the bedroom and closed his bedroom door.
Around midnight, the boys slipped downstairs for more snacks. Hamilton was glad the Washington's dogs were all old and half-deaf. Otherwise, he doubted it'd be possible to leave his room without waking one and thus all of them.
Talk grew deeper as the night wore on but each still avoided talking about family. They talked about school, pranks, and bullies. Burr alluded to his outcast status but remained light on the details. Likewise, Hamilton mentioned going hungry from time to time but avoided the deeper abuse he suffered from foster parents and siblings.
"Why do you think Jefferson kissed me?" Hamilton asked. They had changed into their pajamas a few hours ago and sat in the dim light of one lamp.
Burr licked at the frosting side of an Oreo. "I'm pretty sure he's just messing with you. I mean, I don't know him any better than you do, but everyone seems convinced him and James will date as soon as James is eighteen. I wouldn't think Thomas would kiss you if he wanted to ask James out."
"Do you think he could be mad that I didn't contact James the past few months?" Hamilton asked. He adjusted his pillow. "But I would have thought he'd been glad of that."
"Dunno." Burr hid a yawn. "Maybe he's marking his territory somehow? To keep you away from James."
"Well, he's a big jerk. I don't want James to date him. James is too precious."
"He does seem sweet."
Two o'clock seemed to be when their bodies exhausted themselves and yawns became more frequent.
Hamilton lay his pillow flat. "At least we don't have to get up early tomorrow."
"True." Burr lay down as well.
"I'm glad you decided to spend the night," Hamilton said and stopped a yawn. "I like talking to you."
Burr fought his own yawn. "Same." He scooted a little closer.
"I kick in my sleep," Hamilton warned as Burr rested his head against Hamilton's shoulder.
"I don't care." His cold hand touched Hamilton's stomach. "Night."
Hamilton shifted more snug into Burr's body. "Night."
NINETEEN
Hamilton and Burr slept through the dogs racing down the hall at seven in the morning and the excited yaps for breakfast.
Hamilton did wake when one of the dogs scratched at his door around ten. He rolled out of bed and found Potato standing in the hall. She barked at him.
Hamilton rubbed his tired eyes. "Hush."
"Morning?" Burr mumbled.
"Apparently."
Burr got out of bed and headed across the hall to change. Hamilton changed in his room while Potato stared at him.
"Pervert dog," he scolded her in a high voice. She wagged her tail.
The boys headed downstairs and found a note from Washington saying he and Mrs. Washington had gone to church and would bring donuts back around ten-thirty.
"Good, it's almost ten-thirty," said Hamilton. "I'm starving."
"Hey, um, Alex?" Burr mumbled and continued once Hamilton looked his way. "Do you think I could stay another night or two? Would the Washington's be okay with that?"
Hamilton grinned. "I'm sure they wouldn't care. I'll ask."
"Thanks."
A few minutes later, the rumble of the garage alerted the dogs and sent them running towards the side door.
"Out of the way," Washington told the dogs as he came through while Mrs. Washington followed behind cooing at her babies.
"We're starving, George," Hamilton said.
Washington gave him an irritated glance and set the box of donuts on the counter.
Hamilton instantly opened it and reached for a maple bar.
"Set the table first, Alexander," Washington scolded.
Hamilton withdrew his hand, grumbling, and moved to get out plates and cups.
Burr poured the milk and everyone sat down.
Hamilton waited until a few bites in before asking his request. "Could Aaron stay here a few more nights?"
The Washington's glanced at each other, then at Burr who stared red-faced at his donut.
"Not a problem," Washington said. "The guest room is always available."
"Thank you," Burr mumbled while Hamilton exclaimed, "Thanks!"
At the sound of a key in the front door, the dogs raced out of the kitchen barking.
"Quiet," Lafayette told them as he stomped snow off his boots.
"Just in time for breakfast," Washington called out to him.
"I already ate," Lafayette replied and they heard his footsteps run upstairs.
Washington sighed and shook his head. "I wish I knew how to get through to him again."
Mrs. Washington patted his hand. "He just needs his space."
Breakfast finished, Hamilton and Burr bundled up and went sledding on a nearby hill.
As they trudged up the slope, Burr pointed to a group zooming down the hill. "Isn't that your best friend?"
"What?" Hamilton caught sight of the crinkly afro as Jefferson bailed off his sled to avoid a collision with his sisters. "Fuck. You think he's recognized us?"
"He might not," Burr said. "You're pretty well bundled."
They dropped their sleds at the top of the hill and pushed off.
Jefferson and his sisters were on their way back up as they went down and Hamilton hoped they'd continue to miss each other.
However, as Hamilton zoomed down a third time, Jefferson remained at the bottom of the hill and moved into Hamilton's path. Hamilton dug his hand into the snow to turn and tumbled himself out of the sled. The sled kept going and bumped into Jefferson's legs.
"Trying to kill me, Alexander?" Jefferson said.
"You're the one who got in my way!" Hamilton shouted struggling to get out of the snow.
Jefferson grabbed him by the coat and pulled him up.
Hamilton stumbled away and fell back in the snow. "What is your problem?" he demanded.
"Mine?" Jefferson asked, peeved. "I'm trying to help you."
"Fuck that. Why'd you kiss me?" Hamilton managed to stand and brushed snow off his coat.
"To freak you out," Jefferson said. "I don't want you around James."
"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" Hamilton demanded. "You think I want him?"
"He seems to want you, or at least he did." Jefferson glared at him. "He used to talk about you non-fucking-stop."
Hamilton folded his arms. "Not my fault. Quit being a dick to me."
"You started it," Jefferson reminded him.
"And you're being intransigent. Leave me alone, alright? I don't want James."
"Whatever." Jefferson stomped away through the snow.
"Lafayette started all this, not me," Hamilton shouted after him. "Stop blaming me."
Jefferson stopped. "Don't blame Lafayette. He has it worse than you."
"What do you mean?" Hamilton stomped forward through the snow.
"You know he dresses in drag, right?" Jefferson turned around and found himself staring down at Hamilton.
Hamilton nodded.
"I found out from Hercules that Lafayette used the pic you took of me to take the interest off a picture of himself that had been circulating of him in drag. He'd been getting bullied."
"Oh." Hamilton stared at the snow and hunched his shoulders. "He never told me."
"Well, you guys aren't close. I've known Herc for a while and he thought I ought to know why Lafayette acted like a douche. You still have no excuse."
"I know." Hamilton kept his head bowed.
Jefferson frowned. "Why are you being submissive?"
Hamilton glanced up. "Huh?"
"You're cowering. I'm not going to hit you again, Alexander."
"I'm cold," Hamilton insisted.
"Sure." Jefferson walked away towards his sisters.
Burr dragged his sled over. "What…"
Hamilton shook his head. "I don't know. He does think I'm trying to steal James. He's, like, trying to assert dominance." He shook his head again. "He also said Laf is being bullied at school. That's why he sent the pic around."
"Shit," Burr said. "Are you going to tell Washington?"
"About Laf? No. Laf would kill me. Ready to go back? I'm freezing."
They dragged their sleds back to Mount Vernon. They put the sleds away in the garage and headed inside through the garage door and into the midst of an argument between Washington and Lafayette.
"If you want to continue to live under my roof," Washington said, voice threatening, "then you have rules to abide by. You were supposed to be at Mulligan's house."
"You wouldn't have liked where I was at," Lafayette said waving his hands. "Give me some privacy."
"Try me, boy."
Hamilton tugged Burr's sleeve and they hurried through the kitchen.
"Alex, back me up," Lafayette said and stopped Hamilton from escaping. "Should we not be allowed to stay out doing what we want?"
Hamilton scratched his neck. "You're asking the wrong person, Laf. I'm not going to be a stupid kid again and defy Washington. I'm not going to break his rules again."
Lafayette pushed Hamilton aside. "What do you think, Aaron? Does Washington have to know everything I'm doing just because I live here?"
Burr shrugged. "Depends, I guess."
"I was at a drag show," Lafayette said.
Burr glanced at Hamilton, not sure what to think.
"Washington knows I dress," Lafayette continued, "but think I'm too young to go out like that. Obviously, I couldn't tell him then. I have a right to be who I am."
"Did you go by yourself, Laf?" Washington asked.
No, Herc was with me."
"Then you could have told me and I would have said yes." Washington sighed. "I don't want my son getting hurt. Hercules told me what happened last month. I only have rules to protect you. If someone is with you to watch your back in case of a fight, then I'll allow it. You're young and handsome, Laf, I'm sure you understand my concerns and you know these concerns are valid."
Lafayette nodded.
"Yay." Hamilton clapped his hands silently. "Crisis averted, yes? Everyone's on the same page?"
Lafayette shrugged. "Sure."
Hamilton dragged Burr out of the room and they ran upstairs.
After he spent almost a week at Mount Vernon, Burr returned home and convinced his sister to visit their uncle's apartment for one night so he could spend time with her. Uncle Timothy "went out" and didn't return until Sadie had left.
"You have to forgive him," Burr told Sadie as they huddled together on the top bunk.
"He's a bastard, Aaron," Sadie said. "Look how we grew up." She pointed around the tiny room but there was nothing to see in the winter blackness. "We had a bunk bed, teddy bear, that's it."
"What else could he have done?" Burr defended. "He's worked non-stop to keep us safe under a roof."
"Yeah, he's worked non-stop and look at our shit lives." Sadie squeezed Burr's chilled hands. "Didn't you ever wonder why we weren't a little better off considering how much Uncle worked?"
"It's minimum wage," Burr mumbled. "The government takes a shit ton out for taxes."
"And a shit ton more went to drugs."
Burr's shoulders drooped. It wasn't as if he hadn't known that. He had always preferred not to think it and pretend Uncle Timothy did everything possible to keep them alive.
Sadie cuddled him. "Tell me about school, teddy bear. Is your roommate nice?"
Burr told her about Hamilton, glad of the distraction from their damaged guardian.
TWENTY
"Boys, can you come down here?" Washington called from the bottom of the stairs.
Two doors opened upstairs. Lafayette and Hamilton glanced at each other.
"What'd you do?" Lafayette asked as he left his room and passed Hamilton's.
"Nothing," Hamilton insisted. "What did you do?"
They headed downstairs, more concerned when they noticed Washington smiling.
"Are you boys doing anything tomorrow?" he asked.
"No," Hamilton said.
"Lafayette shrugged.
"Good, we're going paintballing." Washington handed Lafayette a printout confirmation for an indoor paintball arena. "I've invited Thomas, Aaron, and Hercules as well."
"Cool," Lafayette said and handed the paper to Hamilton.
"What about James?" Hamilton asked.
"His mom isn't sure yet," Washington said. "But if the past repeats itself and Thomas tells him and James throws a tantrum about not being included, his mom will relent. I expect you boys to be gentle with him."
"Totally," Hamilton said. He and Lafayette grinned at each other.
"We'll leave at nine," Washington said. "Alex, why don't you see if Aaron can spend the night again? Laf, you can ask Hercules."
"Sweet!" Hamilton said. "I can't wait to shoot Jefferson."
Washington sighed and almost rethought the whole idea. "Try to be nice. Don't get yourself kicked out."
"I'll do my best."
Washington shook his head and decided it was better not to ask if he planned to try his best to be nice or get kicked out.
Mulligan and Burr came over that afternoon to spend the night. Burr set his things in Hamilton's room so Mulligan could have the guest room to himself.
"I'm glad you can stay another night," Hamilton told Burr as they sat in the front room eating popcorn. Lafayette and Mulligan had taken over the family room to play video games. "I'm kind of used to sleeping in the same room as you now."
"Yeah," Burr said. He shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
"You seem quiet."
"I got to see my sister," Burr explained, "but she only stayed a night and it's hard never getting time with her." He stuffed more popcorn in his mouth. "She's only two years older than me but she raised me. I miss not having her around all the time anymore."
Hamilton nodded. "I get it. Is she okay, though? Like she has a place to stay?"
"She's getting by." Burr picked through the near-empty bowl. "I worry she could get into drugs or something, though. Her friends aren't great influences."
"Shit. Is she in college?"
"No. She never liked school." Burr picked up the bowl. "Can we make some more?"
A few minutes before nine the next morning, Jefferson pulled up the driveway in his truck. Bundled in his peacoat and purple hat, Madison jumped out of the passenger seat.
Hamilton opened the front door. "Hey, James. I'm glad you got to come."
"Hi! Me, too." Madison hugged him.
"You smell nice," said Hamilton breathing in a sweet scent of peaches.
"Thanks!"
He ran over to hug Mrs. Washington where she stood in the doorway to the kitchen.
Washington did a head count. "Where's Aaron?"
"Bathroom," Hamilton said.
"Anyone else need to use the restroom before we go?" Washington asked. "It's a forty-five-minute drive."
Everyone else was ready and Burr soon came downstairs.
"Shotgun!" Hamilton shouted as he ran for the garage.
"Mom is coming too, so you're overruled," Washington told him.
"Fuck."
"Alexander!" Mrs. Washington scolded.
Hamilton ducked his head. "Sorry. It slipped."
She shook her head and ushered Madison ahead of her, as she made sure all the dogs were accounted for before they left.
Even with the Washington's old van, it was a tight fit. Lafayette, Mulligan, and Jefferson were all tall and had to make do with the middle row for a little extra foot room. Hamilton, Burr, and Madison squeezed into the backseat with Hamilton in the middle.
Jefferson glanced back at Madison. "You can sit up front if you need to."
"I took my car sickness medicine," Madison replied. "I'll be okay."
"Throw up on Hamilton if you need to."
"Okay."
"Hey!" Hamilton grumbled.
Washington did another headcount before he backed out of the garage.
Ten minutes in, Madison unbuckled his seatbelt. "I need to take off my coat. It's too hot." He almost elbowed Hamilton in the face.
"Here." Hamilton pulled at one of the sleeves. "Shit, where do you find such cute clothes?"
Madison smoothed his sweater tunic down over his skinny jeans. "Mostly Gap."
Jefferson faked a cough. "Kids department."
"Shut up," Madison complained.
"Well, you always look adorable." Hamilton fixed the sparkly hair clip in his long locks.
"Thanks." Madison squeezed his knee.
It was a long drive for city boys not used to being in the car for more than fifteen minutes at a time.
Hamilton moaned after a half hour. "I have to use the bathroom."
"I told you to go before we left," Washington reminded him. "We're almost there."
"It's hot back here," Madison complained.
Instantly, Jefferson reached around to touch his forehead.
"I'm not feverish," Madison said.
"Yeah, but you're usually cold," Jefferson replied. "Maybe you should take some Tylenol."
"Ugh, I'm fine."
Jefferson chewed his lip. "Have Mrs. Washington take your temperature when we get there."
"Ugh, Thomas!" Madison's cheeks colored with the pestering.
"Your face is red."
"Because you're embarrassing me!" Madison buried his head in his lap.
Jefferson turned back around.
Washington pulled into the parking lot and found a spot. He and Mrs. Washington got out while Lafayette and Jefferson discovered the child-locks on the passenger doors.
"Whoops," Washington chuckled and pulled open the door. "Guess it's been a while since we used the van."
Lafayette rolled his eyes. "You did that on purpose." He stepped out and stretched.
Jefferson handed Madison his coat but Madison ignored his help and went to stand next to Mrs. Washington. She untucked his hair from the coat and took his hand so he wouldn't fall on the slushy parking lot.
"Ready for this?" Hamilton whispered to Burr. "You're too quiet."
"Yeah." Burr smiled. "This'll be fun." He clutched Hamilton's arm as he almost slipped.
Washington led the way inside and gave his name at the front counter.
"How many?" the man asked.
Washington counted to be sure. "Six."
"Alright, go ahead and get suited up." He pointed to a door on the right.
Washington looked the boys over. "Behave yourselves. We'll pick you up in a bit."
Mrs. Washington squeezed Madison's hand. "Be safe, dear."
"Yes, ma'am."
The boys hurried through the door and an instructor helped them find vests and helmets that fit.
"How messy is this going to be?" Madison asked. He watched Hamilton and Burr try on helmets.
"I wouldn't risk your sweater," Jefferson said. "You have something on underneath, right?"
"Yeah."
Madison pulled off his tunic and folded it up neatly.
Jefferson plucked the hair clip from his hair. "You don't want to lose it. You should tie your hair back, too." He slid a black hair tie off his wrist and pulled Madison's hair into a low ponytail.
Once ready, the instructor gave them the rules and showed them how to use the paintball gun. It would be every man for himself with an hour to play with the goal being to have one person standing at the end.
Hamilton glanced behind at Jefferson. He would be an easy target with his height.
Released to the arena, the boys ran for cover and broke into warfare at the sound of a bell.
Lafayette and Mulligan had played several times before and had the advantage of being better shots, but neither was fast or good at ducking for cover. Hamilton and Jefferson had decent speed but turned out to be the worst shots. Burr and Madison hid from the maniac aggression of their friends.
Hamilton ducked for cover near Burr's hiding place. "Be my ally," Hamilton said. "Thomas and James are a team. Laf and Mulligan probably are, too."
"Okay," Burr said. "I have no idea what I'm doing."
"Point and shoot." Hamilton indicated to Jefferson breaking free from his spot to go after Mulligan. "Take down Thomas."
Burr lifted his paintball gun and fired. The ball splattered against a fake boulder five feet from Jefferson.
"Fuck you, Jefferson!" Hamilton shouted and took a shot. He missed by an even further margin.
"You need glasses," Burr teased. "Cover me."
Hamilton watched Burr run after Mulligan who was slower. His shot was close enough to splatter a little paint on Mulligan but not a direct hit.
When he finally dared move from cover, Madison was first out of the game. Lafayette, Mulligan, and Burr all jumped at the chance and splattered him with several hits and near hits.
In their attack, Jefferson got payback and took out Lafayette but missed Mulligan.
Burr scrambled for refuge near Hamilton. "We have a half hour left," he panted. "Jefferson is going to be out for blood."
"Let's take him down," Hamilton said.
Together they charged Jefferson and began a wild chase around the arena with several paintball splatters but no hits that ended with the three ducking for shelter as they struggled to breathe.
Mulligan had watched the chase and snuck up on Jefferson and hit him square in the chest.
Jefferson cussed and raised his paintball gun in defeat.
"Damn, I wanted to shoot him," Hamilton complained. He wheezed and fogged his mask while sweat ran beneath his helmet.
"Come on, we're almost out of time." Burr grabbed Hamilton's hand and dragged him forward. They stalked Mulligan around the perimeter.
Mulligan missed them by inches and sent them fleeing towards the center of the arena.
"You won't win," Lafayette catcalled from the sidelines. "He's Hercules Mulligan!"
Mulligan shot off another round and managed to splatter Hamilton's mask.
"Not close enough!" Hamilton shouted and pulled the trigger. It was pure luck that Mulligan moved towards the paintball as Hamilton's shot would have missed him by several feet otherwise.
The orange paintball struck Mulligan's shoulder.
Hamilton turned to look at Burr. There were only three minutes left on the clock. "We can tie."
"Nope," Burr said with a grin. He raised his paintball gun and pulled the trigger. His green paintball struck Hamilton in the hip.
"You bastard," Hamilton groaned. He dramatically crumpled to the ground. "I thought we were friends," he wailed.
The door out of the arena opened and the boys dragged their worn, sweaty, paint-splattered selves out.
"Good job, Aaron," Madison said with a shy smile. "You were very brave."
"Thanks." Burr smiled back.
Hamilton pouted. "We had an alliance."
"You still outlasted Jefferson," Burr reminded him.
"True, I suppose." Hamilton ran a hand through his sweaty hair.
"You got paint on your face," Burr said. He licked his thumb and rubbed it against Hamilton's chin.
"Look in a mirror," Hamilton said. He rubbed at a streak on Burr's neck.
"Make out already," groaned Lafayette half to himself.
Mulligan smirked. "You heard them last night, too?"
"The whole neighborhood heard them."
"We were watching a movie, what're you talking about?" Hamilton grumbled.
Lafayette rolled his eyes.
Jefferson helped Madison clean the paint out of his hair. "Did you have fun?"
"Yeah. But once was enough." He smiled at Jefferson. "Sorry, you didn't kill Alex."
"At least he didn't take me out," Jefferson replied.
The Washington's waited for them back in the lobby. They had enjoyed a nice two-hour outing at a bookstore across the street.
"Well, you're all still alive," Washington said, "and no one looks hurt."
"Have some faith in us, Dad," Lafayette said. "Where could we hide a body in there?"
Washington shook his head. "Sometimes you, boys, scare me. You can tell us about it over lunch."
The boys jostled each other through the door except Madison who hung back with Mrs. Washington.
"You're not too tired are you, dear?" she asked.
"Just a little," Madison said. "I got hit first."
"Did you have fun?"
"Yeah."
She squeezed his hand.
Everyone piled back into the van and Washington dared ask for suggestions on where to eat and received six different answers. He turned to his wife instead. "Martha, dear, where would you like to eat?"
Mrs. Washington smiled. "There's that little salad place—"
"No," Hamilton whined from the backseat. "Somewhere with real food."
The couple smiled at each other.
"Aaron, why don't you pick," Mrs. Washington suggested.
Burr scratched his ear. "Um..."
"Red Robin," Hamilton whispered in his ear.
"Red Robin," Burr repeated louder.
No one complained and Washington headed for the nearest one.
The large group was soon at the restaurant and lucked out to get in right before the lunch rush.
"Any children's menus?" the server asked.
Madison grumbled in his throat.
Washington winked at him and looked to Hamilton. "Do you want a children's menu, Alexander?"
"Dad," Hamilton griped.
"Someone's hungry and cranky."
"Starving."
At the long table, the Washington's sat at either end. Madison, Jefferson, and Mulligan on one side, Burr, Hamilton, and Lafayette on the other.
"Can I get a milkshake?" Hamilton asked at once.
"All of you can get whatever you want," Washington said.
"Just dessert?" Madison asked.
Mrs. Washington patted his hand. "Maybe a little food, too, sweetie."
Madison leaned against Jefferson.
"You did get worn out, didn't you?" Jefferson said as he brushed a hand against his friend's forehead.
Madison nodded.
"Do you want just a milkshake and fries?"
Madison nodded again.
Jefferson pushed his chair back. "Sit on my lap until our food arrives."
Madison didn't hesitate and climbed on his lap. He closed his eyes as Jefferson's arms wrapped around him.
"Is he sick? Mrs. Washington asked with concern.
"Just tired," Jefferson replied.
Orders of hamburgers, fries, and milkshakes were soon placed and the boys told about their paintball adventure.
"Good job, Aaron!" Washington said after it was revealed who won. "I should have known. The rest of you lot would have announced it the second you saw us."
Aaron smiled with his head down.
Hamilton squeezed his hand under the table.
Food arrived and Madison remained in Jefferson's arms.
"Is he asleep?" Mrs. Madison asked.
Jefferson nodded. He adjusted Madison on his lap while he reached for a French fry.
"How can he sleep with this much noise?" Hamilton questioned, raising his voice above the ruckus of dozens of people enjoying lunch.
"James can literally sleep anywhere," Lafayette answered. "I remember once we all went to the movies and he slept through the whole thing."
"What about the time," Mulligan said, "that we went to that arcade for my birthday? We almost lost him because he fell asleep under the table."
Jefferson brushed his lips against Madison's hair, eager for the conversation of his friend's constant fatigue to end. Any reminder that Madison was fragile and might not live a long life shortened his own life he was certain, as his heart thudded in his chest.
Hamilton and Lafayette did most of the talking through lunch. Mulligan and Washington added occasional feedback. Burr listened with interest. Mrs. Washington and Jefferson remained quiet as they ate and watched Madison.
The meal finished, Mrs. Washington asked for a to-go cup for Madison's milkshake and a box for his fries.
"I can pay for mine and Jemmy's," Jefferson said as Washington picked up the bill.
"Don't worry about it, son," Washington said as he counted out some cash. "Ready, crew?"
"Shotgun!" Hamilton shouted again and raced outside.
Burr hurried after him before he killed himself in the parking lot.
Jefferson was last to rise, Madison cradled in his arms.
Mrs. Washington tucked Madison's coat snug around him.
As soon as Washington unlocked the van, Hamilton climbed in the front seat.
Washington pulled him out by his coat. "Let Thomas sit up front with Jemmy."
"Ugh." Hamilton dragged himself to the back seat with Burr and Mrs. Washington.
Jefferson held Madison close to his chest. About halfway home, something no longer felt right. "Sir?"
Washington glanced over. "Yes."
"We need to go to the hospital." His voice remained a thousand times calmer than insinuated by his pounding heart and the heat of fear creeping through his veins. "Jemmy isn't breathing."
TWENTY-ONE
Washington floored the gas pedal and careened off the exit towards the hospital. "Dear, call the hospital and let them know we're five minutes out. Call his parents."
Mrs. Washington's hand shook as she grabbed her phone out of her purse.
Hamilton's eyes went wide and he grabbed Burr's hand.
No one dared move or make a sound.
The van's brakes squealed as Washington brought the vehicle to a fast stop in front of the emergency entrance.
Jefferson hurried out with Madison in his arms to a waiting gurney and oxygen. His legs gave out beneath him once Madison was out of his arms. Lafayette caught him before he fell to the pavement.
"It's probably just his asthma," Lafayette soothed. "From the adrenaline and exercise."
Jefferson clung to Lafayette's arm. "I shouldn't have let him," he gasped. "He should have stayed home." He dug his front teeth into his trembling bottom lip.
Washington rounded up the boys and held his wife's hand. "Laf, why don't you take everyone home? I'll stay with Thomas until James' parents get here."
"Yes, Dad."
Jefferson pulled away from Lafayette's support and headed inside the hospital.
Washington handed Lafayette the car keys and kissed his wife. "I'll call as soon as I hear any news."
Mrs. Washington clung to him for a moment before getting in the passenger seat.
Mulligan sat in the middle row while Hamilton and Burr returned to the back.
"Is this common with James?" Burr whispered to Hamilton. "I've never met him before."
"Yeah," Hamilton replied and rested his head against Burr's shoulder. "He's always falling apart."
No one said another word for the remainder of the drive.
Once home, Mulligan gathered his things and headed back to his own house. Lafayette retreated to his room.
Burr and Hamilton hovered around Mrs. Washington.
"I'll let you know when George calls," she said with a tired sigh. She picked up Potato and headed into the family room to sit down with the rest of the dogs.
"I can take you home if you want," Hamilton told Burr. "I doubt I'll be good company."
"I would like to stay with you," Burr said. "If that's okay."
"Please, do."
They headed upstairs and lounged on Hamilton's bed to wait for news.
Washington and Jefferson sat in the waiting room. The Madison's had arrived and gone back with their son into the emergency room.
Jefferson reached a hand in his pocket for his phone and found Madison's hair clip instead. He untangled the long, sparkly strands from the clip as his eyes slowly blurred with tears. What if…
Fifteen long minutes passed before Mr. Madison joined them.
"It was his asthma," Mr. Madison said. He sat next to Washington and rubbed his eyes. "He's okay now. Was he hit in the chest with the paintballs? I know they're not supposed to hurt that much, but…"
Both men looked to Jefferson.
"I don't remember," Jefferson mumbled. "Probably. He took a few hits at once. Is he so fragile that a paintball could mess him up?" He glanced at Mr. Madison but couldn't maintain eye contact for fear of crying.
"He's barely recovered from his last illness," Mr. Madison said. He sighed. "We struggle to find the balance of keeping him safe and letting him enjoy life. I feel like we always choose wrong."
"You know that isn't true," Washington said and touched his arm. "Jemmy could have stayed home and tripped going down the stairs and broken his leg just as easily. Everything is going to be fine."
"May I see him?" Jefferson asked. Guilt burned in his chest. He shouldn't have told Madison about the paintball outing, then he wouldn't have begged to come and wouldn't be in the hospital right now.
"Of course, Thomas." Mr. Madison stood and led the way.
Madison had on an oxygen mask as he slept. As small as he already was, he always looked even smaller in a hospital bed; fragile, weak, ready to die.
Jefferson rubbed his left eye. He had to learn to be strong.
Mrs. Madison sat near the hospital bed. "The doctor wants to keep him overnight," she said. "We're waiting for a room."
Jefferson nodded. He slipped the hair clip in Madison's hair and smoothed down the sparkly strands.
Mrs. Washington knocked on Hamilton's bedroom door.
Hamilton jumped off the bed to open it. "Is James okay?"
"Yes." Mrs. Washington touched his cheek. "A complication with his asthma. He's going to stay overnight but he'll be fine."
"Good." Hamilton breathed a sigh of relief.
"Lafayette and I are going to pick up Dad now," she said. "Are you and Aaron okay staying?"
"Yeah."
Mrs. Washington kissed his forehead. "We'll be back in about an hour."
Hamilton closed the door behind her and returned to his bed.
Burr unpaused the video they were watching on Hamilton's laptop.
"Do you want anything to drink?" Hamilton asked.
"I'm good," Burr said.
"I'm glad you won paintball," Hamilton said.
Burr glanced up to find Hamilton's blue-violet gaze fixed on him. "Um, thanks. It was fun." He scratched his ear.
Hamilton leaned closer but Burr turned away.
"What're you doing?" Burr mumbled.
"What we both wanted to do last night," Hamilton replied. He stroked his index finger down Burr's cheek.
"Alex…" He turned his head and his lips met Hamilton's.
Hamilton pressed firmer and cupped Burr's face.
Burr melted into the soft, warm kiss, yet remained unsure what to do himself. He had little experience, none with kissing a guy. But Hamilton was definitely a good kisser, a little wet, but good.
Hamilton climbed on Burr and pushed him to lay back. He sucked on Burr's lip before he slipped in his tongue.
Burr grunted, got the hang of it, and moved his tongue boldly in Hamilton's mouth.
Hamilton let up and nibbled Burr's ear.
Burr gave a choked giggle at the sensation and nudged Hamilton back. He pointed to the side of his neck. "Don't ask why, but…"
Hamilton suckled on his neck and got Burr to let out a deep sigh and relax further.
He gripped Hamilton's shirt, pulling it up. He moved his hips upward to meet Hamilton's crotch. His own body reacted at the heat of Hamilton's.
Hamilton sat back on Burr's hips. "We have forty-five minutes. How far can we go?"
"Don't know." Burr pushed himself up and knocked Hamilton against the bed and moved on top. He kissed Hamilton's lips and moved his shirt back up and exposed his flat stomach and protruding ribs. "Don't you ever eat?" he murmured.
"I'll eat you," Hamilton replied. He pressed his mouth back against Burr's and slipped in his tongue. He reached for the button on Burr's jeans but met resistance.
"Not below the belt," Burr said.
"Okay." Hamilton returned to kissing his neck.
Burr directed his hands up his shirt.
Hamilton stroked his sides and pushed up his shirt to kiss his chest.
Burr flinched and squirmed away. "Don't look. I'm not skinny like you," he mumbled.
"So?" Hamilton moved his shirt back down and stroked his stomach. "I don't care about that. I'm just as self-conscious as you are."
Burr nodded. "What're we doing, Alex?" He sat up and crossed his legs. "You have an agreement with Laurens."
"Don't bring him into this, Aaron," Hamilton grumbled. "I'll deal with him. What would you like?"
"I don't know." Burr's pupil-dilated eyes watched him. "I don't know."
TWENTY-TWO
"Thomas?"
Jefferson grunted out of a light slumber and struggled to move his body from the painful, upright position he'd fallen asleep in. He'd stayed the night at the hospital with Madison to allow his parents to take turns going home to their other children.
Mr. Madison touched his shoulder. "Do you want coffee?"
Jefferson rubbed his stiff neck and tried to loosen his aching muscles. "Please." He stood and stretched as Mr. Madison left the room. Joints popped and he groaned as everything moved back in place.
He looked at the hospital bed. Madison lay small and pale under the white sheet, oxygen tube in his nose.
Madison kicked his legs under the blanket and rubbed his nose. His eyes opened when he felt the tube.
"Morning, Jemmy," Jefferson said and stroked his forehead.
Madison grasped his hand. "I want to go home."
"I know." Jefferson rubbed his skinny arm. "Soon. You did fine during the night. We'll just have to watch how much you exert yourself. No more paintball."
"That's okay." Madison sighed and closed his eyes.
Jefferson kissed his forehead. "I need to use the bathroom and I'll be right back."
Madison nodded.
He found the nearest restroom, then hurried downstairs to a cafe he knew was attached to the hospital. He wished he didn't know that since it spoke of how much time he'd spent at this hospital. First with his dying father and now with his future boyfriend. He ordered a chocolate milkshake and returned to Madison's room.
Mr. Madison was back in the room and handed Jefferson a cup of coffee.
Jefferson took a grateful sip before he woke Madison.
Madison grasped the milkshake and sucked desperately on the straw. When he came up for air, he said, "I never got mine when we went out for lunch."
"I know." Jefferson stroked his hair.
Mr. Madison cleared his throat. "The doctor will be in soon to release him."
"Good."
Burr woke first and watched Hamilton asleep beside him. He wished he could have given Hamilton an answer last night but he still didn't know what he wanted himself. He saw how chaotic and messed up his relationship with Laurens was. He knew Hamilton didn't make the best decisions. Did Burr want to deal with that kind of inconsistency? Not that he knew what a good relationship looked like since his uncle only had a rotating score of women that came and went. The boyfriends Sadie had were no better and drank and whored. Hamilton didn't know monogamy any more than they did. Is that what he wanted, too?
Hamilton rolled over on his stomach, a hand tucked under his chin.
Would he press for an answer, Burr wondered. Could they let what happened fade away until it happened again? That would be better, wouldn't it? A friends-with-benefits deal to take what they wanted when they needed it and pretend otherwise when it wasn't convenient. But what about Laurens? He was jealous enough already. He'd poison Hamilton against Burr. Better to let Laurens win than lose Hamilton as his friend.
He slipped out of bed without waking his friend. He changed in the bathroom and went downstairs with his backpack. A chorus of barks hailed him followed by Mrs. Washington telling them to be quiet.
"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Washington greeted him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, ma'am." Burr let Potomac the terrier sniff him and gave the dog a gentle scratch under his chin.
"Would you like breakfast?"
"I was, um, wondering if, um, Washington could take me to the bus stop," Burr stammered.
"I'm sure that won't be a problem," she said. "Is Alex up?"
"No." Burr twisted his fingers together. "I didn't want to wake him."
Mrs. Washington watched him with concern. "Okay. I'll let George know."
The dogs trotted after her as she headed out of the kitchen and down the hall.
Washington followed her back a few minutes later. "Ready, Aaron?"
"Yes, sir." Burr grabbed his backpack from by the stairs and followed Washington into the garage.
"Which bus stop?" Washington asked knowing Burr would refuse being taken all the way home and he needed him in a decent mood to find out why he was leaving without saying goodbye to Hamilton.
"The one on 18th leaves in a half hour," Burr said. He stared out the window at the expansive houses of the Estates.
"Not a problem." Washington turned out of his neighborhood. "Is everything okay?"
Burr shrugged.
"I know James getting sick was upsetting. He'll be fine." Washington put on his blinker to turn left towards downtown.
"Alex and I kissed," blurted Burr and heat flooded his face.
Washington gave a choked sound. "Well…"
"I don't know what to do now," Burr gushed. "Like, he's with Laurens—sort of—and Laurens is super jealous already. I don't want to date Alex but I don't want not to date him either. I don't know—I don't know what to do. He's gonna hate me since I up and left." He dropped his head in his hands and rubbed at his short hair.
"Well, Aaron, Alexander does breed a lot of drama." Washington reached over and patted Burr's shoulder. "If you have feelings for him, you need to tell him."
"I don't think I do," Burr said lifting up his head. "But… Like… I do?" He shook his head.
Washington chuckled. "I know it's not funny and you're hurting but I'm just amazed at what Alex has achieved in a few months. The kid is a mess, Aaron. If you're not sure what you feel towards him, step away. You won't hurt him and it's better than getting in the middle of him and Laurens. That will eventually sort itself out and by then you'll know if you do want to pursue a relationship with Alex and, hopefully, he'll be more mature."
Burr nodded. "But what if he's mad? Or… He…"
"Alexander gets dramatic, not angry. He'll be fine. If he has feelings for you, he'll talk to you." Washington parked the car across from the bus stop. "Call Alex when you get home. Tell him you were upset about James' medical emergency and he'll spill whatever he needs to."
Burr met his eyes. "Thank you." He glanced away. "My uncle didn't do feelings and I don't know what to do with them myself."
"I'm always available to talk." Washington unbuckled his seatbelt. "Let me walk you across the street."
Burr didn't protest the absurdity of needing an adult to walk him across the street when he was about to embark on a multiple-connecting bus journey alone. But he had learned Washington wouldn't take no for an answer when it came to protecting his boys when he could. It sent a warmth to his stomach to find someone who cared. He smiled at Washington. "Thank you."
It was two hours before Burr called. Hamilton paced around the house as he waited since Washington insisted he would call when he got home.
"Why didn't he just talk to me before he left?" Hamilton demanded.
"He was still a little wigged out from James' emergency," Washington lied. "He just wanted to get home."
Hamilton kicked at a chair and grumbled.
"Control yourself," Washington warned.
"Sorry, chair," Hamilton muttered. His phone rang and he yanked it out of his back pocket. "Aaron."
"Hi," Burr said. "Sorry I didn't wake you before I left. Wasn't feeling well."
Hamilton sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah, Dad said James getting sick scared you. I wish we had talked about that." Hamilton headed upstairs. "It scared me, too. I can't imagine how that must have felt for Jefferson to be holding him."
Burr fell silent a moment having never even considered that. He didn't know Madison. Sure, someone not breathing was alarming no matter who it was, but he didn't want to talk about it. Death was another feeling he didn't have experience talking about. His parents passing away was something never mentioned at home. "Yeah," he murmured. "Um, I really didn't give you an answer before."
"Oh, right." Hamilton sat on his bed and searched around for his bear before finding it under the bed. "I like you, Aaron, but I get it. I'm not boyfriend material and I think you want more stability. I got enough shit going on with John."
"I don't want it to be weird between us," Burr said. "I like having you close."
"We're good." Hamilton squeezed the bear in his arms. "Maybe someday, right?"
"Maybe." Burr looked around his uncle's crappy apartment. No way could he ever let Hamilton see this place. No way could he open up about this part of his life. "I have to go, but I'll see you at school in another, what, a week?"
"Yup. Can't wait. See you." Hamilton hung up before the tears consumed his voice. He buried his face in the bear and cried.
Barely an hour later, Laurens called him. He had gone home to South Carolina for the winter break and had only managed a few calls in between family responsibilities. Which had been somewhat of a relief.
"Saw an interesting post on your Facebook page," Laurens told him.
"Don't do this, John," Hamilton grumbled, eyes still burning from the tears. "I'm friends with Aaron, get over it."
"I thought we had an agreement."
"I'm not sleeping with him." He lay down on the pillow Burr had used, mind flashing to their kiss last night as Burr's pine-ish scent filled his nose. He was glad Laurens couldn't see his face and notice how red it was getting. "You can't dictate who my friends are."
"The picture indicated otherwise."
Hamilton sat up. "The fuck, John? It was a selfie taken at a restaurant my parents drug us to a week ago. I'm sorry that a cellphone camera hasn't been invented yet that can accommodate selfies with two people standing three feet away from each other. Jesus!" He glared at the screen ready to hit the red button.
"Whatever, Alex," Laurens snarled. "Fuck him. I don't care. I'm not going to fuck you anymore anyway."
"Good!" Hamilton hung up. He pushed the bear against his face and screamed.
TWENTY-THREE
Hamilton hesitated and knocked on Lafayette's bedroom door.
"Yeah?" Lafayette said.
"It's me," Hamilton muttered. "May I come in?"
"I suppose."
Hamilton entered and closed the door behind him. "Look, I didn't know you were being bullied. I wouldn't have blown up at you so much over the Jefferson pic if I had known. I would have helped you."
Lafayette shook his head. "You couldn't have helped. Trust me." He returned his attention to his laptop.
"Come on, Laf. We had fun paintballing. Can't we try to get to know each other better?"
Lafayette sighed. "Before you came along, Alex, I had Mom and Dad to myself for a year. We had a few temporary boys at that time but none stayed more than a few days. I thought they were going to adopt me. Then you came along and I never got that impression again. Dad took to you faster than he took to any other foster boy. I've gotten over most of my jealousy but I don't want to be your friend."
Hamilton looked at his socks. "I'm sorry. I knew it was because of me, why you and Washington don't get along anymore."
Lafayette shoved his laptop aside. "There. That attitude. It drives me insane, Alex. The world doesn't revolve around you. Everything doesn't happen because of "Alexander Hamilton." Yeah, you make a lot of fucking problems and everything goes to hell when you're around but the world doesn't think you're special. Grow up already."
Hamilton's shoulders drooped. "I'm sorry."
"Gah!" Lafayette grumbled and got off the bed. "You're an asshole." He wrapped his arms around his foster brother. "Stop blaming yourself, little lion."
Hamilton tucked his head under Lafayette's chin. "I can't help it."
"I know." Lafayette smoothed down his messy red hair. "I have a girlfriend. I want you to meet her soon."
Hamilton looked up. "Really?"
"Her name's Adrienne. We met about a month ago."
"Congrats, Laf." Hamilton moved back from him. "You sure you want me anywhere near her? Bad things happen around me."
"I know." Lafayette rubbed his head. "I haven't told Mom and Dad yet so keep your mouth shut."
"I will. I promise."
The week before classes resumed, Hamilton and Mrs. Washington caught up on laundry, getting Hamilton's bedding and new clothes washed and packed. Washington was gone during the day getting his classroom and assignments in order.
On Sunday, Washington dropped off Hamilton and his boxes. An icy wind blew and Hamilton was quick to get into the dorm.
Burr looked up from his phone when Hamilton unlocked the door. "Hey. Need any help?"
"Got it all," Hamilton said as Washington dropped two boxes on the floor.
Washington stretched his back. "I'm getting too old for this. I'll see you boys in the morning."
"Thank you," Hamilton said with a soft smile.
Washington returned it and kissed the top of Hamilton's head. "Be good."
Hamilton closed and locked the door and began setting up his room. Burr helped him make the bed and propped up the stuffed bear. They worked in silence but it was comfortable, not awkward and made Hamilton glad he hadn't said anything more to Burr on the phone. Burr didn't deserve getting hurt by him anyway. Even though the only thing he wanted to do was shove Burr on the bed and rip off his clothes.
About fifteen minutes later, he received a text from Laurens. They hadn't spoken since the phone call a week earlier.
Meet me at my dorm?
Hamilton texted back, Fine. He looked at Burr. "I'll be right back. We can grab dinner after that."
"Sure," Burr said.
Hamilton headed upstairs. Laurens and Lee shared the same dorm they had the previous semester. He knocked and Laurens let him in. Both sides of the room were neat and tidy and likely to look a disaster in another day. "So…" Hamilton mumbled and twisted his fingers together.
"Do you want to try out for the wrestling team?" Laurens asked.
Hamilton stared at him. "What?"
"I know you plan to try out for debate," Laurens rambled, "but Lee said there are openings on the wrestling team and it'll fulfill our physical education credit. I don't know anything about it but it might be fun."
"I'm built like a stick, John," Hamilton reminded him. "You're not much better."
"Yeah, but you get to roll around with guys." Laurens grinned.
Hamilton rolled his eyes. "I knew you had an agenda. Sure, I'll try out with you."
"Thanks." Laurens twisted a loose curl around his finger. "Um, Hammy, I'm sorry." He bit his lip. "I know I crossed a line."
"Several of them actually, John," Hamilton said and chewed on his thumbnail. "I think we need to take a break."
Laurens frowned and crossed his arms. "So you can fuck Aaron?"
Hamilton ground his teeth and he spat, "Yes, Jack, so I can fuck Aaron because I wanted to get in his pants since the moment I laid on his pretty bronze skin and hazel eyes. Get a fucking life!" His heart pounded at the truth in his words and his face grew sweaty.
"Well, you sure know his body well enough," Laurens seethed. "He's all yours, Alexander. I'm done with you."
Hamilton just shook his head and let the door slam behind him.
After classes, the next day, Hamilton tried out for the debate team. There were several different teams, each with four members: Two speakers and two researchers. For the style of debate, the topic was only given a short time in advance. The researcher provided facts before and during the debates while the speakers churned out their argument on the fly. Washington was the captain of one of the groups.
He had no idea what he was getting into and had never been able to make it on a debate team in high school. Lafayette, Laurens, and Jefferson all went before him. He didn't like his chances after hearing Jefferson speak.
As reserved and cold as Jefferson seemed in class, he came alive behind a pulpit, his voice clear, although soft, and his words full of pomp and vigor.
When it was his turn, Hamilton stumbled over his words at first. Then he spotted Laurens in the sparse crowd and his anger took over. Words shot out without his knowledge and cohesive paragraphs spilled forth one after the other. He shook with adrenaline when he finished.
Results were posted a few days later.
Hamilton struggled to see around the crowd gathered around the board.
"You made it," a familiar and unwelcome voice said from behind. "We're on the same team."
Hamilton grimaced. "Whose team?"
"Washington's."
Hamilton closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Great. Guess I'll be seeing a lot of you."
Jefferson sighed. "I'm afraid so."
TWENTY-FOUR
Washington surveyed his team with a grimace. The two seniors were decent kids, smart, and capable, but they lacked spunk, and arrogance to prove themselves the best. They didn't stand out and if he weren't conscious of learning names and faces fast, he would have forgotten them by the next meeting.
Then there was Hamilton and Jefferson, who had the personality and drive to push their objective. But their personal issues hindered them. They sat as far apart from each other as possible and bit back at everything the other said. They would be better suited to debate against each other, not for the same team.
"For the love of God, Alexander, stop chattering your teeth," Jefferson griped as they met Thursday afternoon in early February.
Hamilton had to walk across campus from his last class and still shivered despite wearing his coat. "It's fucking cold out," he spat.
Washington sighed to himself. "You'll warm up in a minute or two. Thomas, do you have your speech?"
Jefferson stood. He got a few sentences out before he stopped and glared at Hamilton. "I can't hear myself over his teeth."
"I'm not doing it on purpose!" Hamilton exclaimed.
Washington grabbed his coat off the back of his desk chair and handed it to Hamilton. He touched Hamilton's forehead to make sure he wasn't feverish.
"I'm not sick, Dad," Hamilton muttered. "I just hate winter." He cocooned himself in Washington's coat.
"Go on, Thomas," Washington said. "I'm sure you can talk louder than Alex's teeth."
Jefferson stared at them and a grin stretched across his cheeks. "You called him 'dad', Alex."
Color flushed Hamilton's cheeks and he looked away. "Whatever."
"Continue your speech, Thomas," Washington chided.
Jefferson soon finished and Hamilton gave his affirmation.
When the meeting was over, they followed each other out going to the same dormitory.
"So did you finally accept Washington?" Jefferson asked. "Like you see him as your father now?"
Hamilton tried to outpace Jefferson but Jefferson had seven inches over him and kept stride. Unless Hamilton chose to run, he couldn't get away. "It's not your business," he snapped.
"Touchy, touchy."
"How's James?" Hamilton asked, baiting Jefferson on his sensitive subject. "I have some pictures I want to send him."
Jefferson sneered and walked faster.
Hamilton jogged a few steps to keep up. "Why are you so insecure about James being my friend?"
"You're not someone he needs in his life." Jefferson fumbled for his keys as they approached the front door. He managed to drop them in the fresh snow on the sidewalk.
Closer to the ground, Hamilton snatched them up first. "I'm going to say one nice thing to you and you better remember it," he said. "James clearly adores you for some reason. I have no interest in him, okay?"
Jefferson grasped for his keys and Hamilton tossed them into the deeper snow off the sidewalk.
"If you say something nice to me, I'll help you look for them," Hamilton said.
Jefferson glared at him. "I'm good."
"Cheerio then, mate." Hamilton unlocked the door and closed it behind himself. He hurried to his dorm to change into something warm and burrow under his blankets.
"How much did you fight this time?" Burr asked setting aside his journal.
"Jefferson is outside looking for his keys I threw," Hamilton replied. "Does that answer your question?"
"Yup."
Hamilton tossed his coat over his desk chair and changed into sweatpants. He huddled under three heavy blankets and pulled his laptop close.
"Do you have homework," Burr asked, "or are you going to fuck around on the internet?"
"Fuck around," Hamilton said. His heart sped up for a moment.
Burr got off his bed and approached Hamilton's. "I found a video I want to show you."
Hamilton moved closer to the wall and let Burr in his pile of blankets. They lay on their stomachs, propped up shoulder to shoulder. Burr found the video, pleased when Hamilton laughed throughout.
Later, as they got ready for bed, Burr asked, "Can we talk?"
"About…?" Hamilton tossed his jeans on the floor.
"Us?"
Hamilton was glad his back was turned as blood rushed to all the wrong places.
"I mean… you're done with John, aren't you?" Burr stammered. "I won't step on your toes if—"
Hamilton's kiss swallowed his words and Burr lost all sense of his body and time.
Hamilton struggled to breathe but he wasn't about to stop. Nothing would make him stop. He kept his arms tight around Burr. One, to keep him there, and two, to keep his own hands from roaming further than Burr was comfortable with.
But Burr wiggled free from his grasp and tugged at his shirt. "I don't know what I want but… I want something."
Hamilton nodded, mouth and brain unable to work together. He backed up towards his bed and let Burr push him on top.
Burr pulled off Hamilton's shirt and kissed him, first on the lips and steadily lower as Hamilton panted and groaned.
Hamilton moved Burr's hand down to his crotch.
"You sure?" Burr murmured.
Hamilton nodded. His eyes looked black as his pupils dilated.
Burr slipped his hand in Hamilton's boxers and grasped his hard organ.
Hamilton grunted as he closed his eyes.
"Do you want me to…?" Burr trailed off as his hand stroked the smooth skin.
Hamilton opened his eyes. "Oral?"
Burr nodded.
"If you're comfortable with it." Hamilton reached up to caress his face.
"I think so." He tugged at Hamilton's boxers. "May I?"
"Can you undress a little first?" Hamilton asked. He watched Burr's eyes, lost in the flecks of yellow, green, and brown.
Burr pulled off his shirt and pajama pants. He slipped his hand back in Hamilton's boxers until they grew brave enough again.
Hamilton took a deep breath. "Go ahead."
Everything Laurens had accused him of was at least partly true now, Hamilton thought as he stroked Burr's chest and snuggled close. They hadn't gone all the way but he was more than satisfied with the outcome.
Burr pulled the covers higher over their bare shoulders. A contented sigh slipped out of his lips. The words what happens now burned on his tongue but he feared to ask them. What if Hamilton said 'nothing'? What if Hamilton expected them to remain just roommates? Did he want a relationship? Burr didn't know the answer for himself; it wasn't fair to ask it of Hamilton.
Right now, this was nice. Burr rubbed his bare feet against Hamilton's legs and breathed in his sweaty scent. His own skin would smell like Hamilton in the morning and he couldn't be enticed to wash it away.
TWENTY-FIVE
I know it's short notice but can you spend the night? Madison texted Jefferson. My parents said it's okay.
He'd only managed about half the school days he should have gone since winter break ended. But at least Jefferson had still been home. Now, he was gone again, and while Madison felt okay health-wise for the moment the loneliness plagued him.
Jefferson texted within a few minutes, Sure! I just finished dinner. I'll leave in a few minutes.
Madison set his phone aside and headed into his walk-in closet. What could he wear that might seduce Jefferson? It was less than two months before his birthday. Jefferson wouldn't hold that strongly to the date, would he? What difference would two months make? They could keep it a secret that long.
He stared at his multitude of clothes and hated the majority of it. His parents wouldn't let him throw it all out since everything fit. His brother, Frank, was already taller than he was, and Ambrose refused to wear hand-me-downs.
Madison dug through the stuffed rods at the back of his closet. Jefferson would probably appreciate a more neutral color than the purples and pink he preferred. But the colors were so dull! He shoved his hands into the pockets of the light pink polka-dot lounge shorts he wore. The waistband had sparkles on it. His mom had found it at Nelly's favorite preteen store and bought it for him.
From the bed, his phone rang, and Madison cussed. Was Jefferson here already? He'd stared at his clothes longer than he realized. He hurried across the room and answered.
"I'm downstairs," Jefferson said. "Frank let me in. May I come up?"
Madison glanced down at his shorts and light pink hoodie. He could pretend he'd just gotten out of the shower…Throw on a towel instead… Jefferson wouldn't appreciate that. His cheeks flushed when he remembered Jefferson had seen him naked a few weeks ago when he'd been feverish and needed to be cooled down in the tub.
"Yeah, come up," Madison answered. He hung up and sighed. It wasn't as if he had anything sexy to wear anyway or even knew what was considered sexy.
Jefferson knocked once and poked his head in. "Hey, Jem."
Madison smiled. "Hey.
Jefferson closed the door behind him and set his backpack on the bed. "I… brought a surprise," he mumbled.
Madison looked at him with his head cocked. "I'm intrigued." He watched his friend unzip the backpack and pull out a bottle of wine from between his clothes.
"Not to get drunk," stammered Jefferson, "but just because. I know you've had wine before. This one is pretty sweet."
"Cool," Madison said and wanted to smack himself for such a dorky response.
Jefferson hid the bottle back in his bag. "I got it out of the pantry before I went back to college. Jane said she would replace it for me. I probably shouldn't have but… I dunno," he rambled.
Madison touched his arm. "Why are you nervous?"
Jefferson fiddled with the zipper on his bag. "I'm not sure if I'm ready," he whispered.
"You had two years," Madison said, an undertone of irritation clouding his voice.
Jefferson remained silent. Sure, he knew without a doubt he wanted Madison in his life forever and not just "as friends" but he still didn't feel the need to kiss his lips. He now doubted—as he had hoped before—that a switch would flip the day Madison turned eighteen and he'd want the physical intimacy.
"Thomas?" Madison tugged his sleeve. "What's bothering you?"
Jefferson shook his head.
"No, for real, T. Talk to me." Madison plopped down on his bed and patted the spot beside him. "What're you worried about?" This time he managed to keep the irritation away.
Jefferson sat and watched his hands. "What if it doesn't work and we can't be friends?" he murmured. "I don't want to lose you, Jemmy."
"Why wouldn't it work?" Madison asked. He curled his legs beneath him and leaned against Jefferson, hugging his arm.
"What if our expectations are different?" Jefferson struggled to swallow.
"Then let's talk about that." Madison rested his head against his friend's upper arm, his soft sweater warm against his cheek. "I expect you to kiss me on my birthday."
Jefferson nodded. "Full making out or…"
"Just a kiss."
"Then what?"
Madison stroked Jefferson's arm. "I don't know. Whatever we feel like."
Jefferson grimaced. 'Feel' was not a word he wanted to hear. Might as well lay it all out now. "When do you expect us to have sex?"
Heat crept up Madison's neck and he let go of Jefferson's arm. "When we're ready," he mumbled.
"Are you thinking that'll be a month, six months, a year?" Jefferson glanced at him.
"Thomas, how are we supposed to know?" Madison slipped off the bed and stood in front of him. "What's wrong?"
Jefferson looked towards the door. "I should just go."
Madison grabbed his hands. "You're scaring me. What's wrong?" His stomach clenched. Was Jefferson going to break up with him before they even dated? A tremor ran through his small body and goosebumps pimpled his bare legs.
Jefferson continued his refusal. How could he explain something that seemed so normal? Sex was everywhere—books, TV, movies, ads. Who would believe that he didn't want that? It would make Madison mad and blame himself. I'll be fine, he told himself. The switch would flip when he asked his friend out. He'd be excited then. The sexual attraction would be there along with the desire.
"Are you straight?" Madison asked.
Jefferson shook his head.
"Thomas, look at me." Madison tugged at the front of his sweater. "You brought wine. You anticipated something. Trust me; I'm not going to expect sex, like on my birthday. I'd be okay saying we wait six months before we even discuss it again. But…" He chewed his lip. "I don't understand why you're so afraid. You need to tell me what's bothering you."
Jefferson turned his attention to the blank TV across from the bed. "You wouldn't understand."
"How do you know that?" Madison touched his cheek.
Jefferson bent his head away. "Because I don't even understand." He finally looked at Madison. "Can we drop this? I don't have anything else to say."
Madison sucked in a deep breath. "Okay. Can we still drink the wine?"
"Sure." Jefferson pulled the bottle out of his backpack. "Do you have any cups?"
Madison grabbed two paper cups from his bathroom.
Jefferson filled them and didn't hesitate to gulp down half of it. He told Madison they wouldn't get drunk but that sounded like a hell of a good idea, erase the doubts in his mind, and banish the abnormal lack of sexual feelings.
Madison sipped his and made a face. "I thought you said this was sweet?"
"Sweeter than red wine." Jefferson finished his small cup in another swallow. "I didn't have many choices to pick from. You don't have to drink it."
"No, it's fine." Madison took another small sip. He could be grown-up and drink this mouth-drying swill. If Jefferson's hesitation was his age, he'd show him he wasn't a child. He could be sophisticated. "Why don't you find something to watch on Netflix?" He wouldn't even complain about watching a nature documentary.
Jefferson made himself comfortable on the bed and turned on the TV. As expected, he picked the documentary series they'd—well he—had been watching. "Okay?"
"Yup." Madison snuggled next to him. "You know I love you, right? That will never change."
Jefferson wrapped his arms around his friend. "I love you, too."
TWENTY-SIX
Hamilton woke to the smell of coffee and opened his eyes in confusion. Had he gone home and somehow forgotten? No, his eyes opened to the cracked dorm walls and ugly yellowed ceiling.
But Burr stood near his bed, a cup of coffee in hand. "Good morning."
Hamilton grinned and sat up. "Wow, this is a surprise." He took the cup Burr handed over.
"It snowed last night so I thought you'd need this," Burr said.
Hamilton groaned. "Again? How many times is it going to snow this winter?"
Burr chuckled. "It's February, Alex, it kind of snows a lot."
"Ugh." Hamilton sipped his drink. "This is good, Aaron. You added, like, ten packets of sugar, didn't you?"
"Pretty much. I've seen you dump half a cup of sugar in your coffee." He got on the bed next to Hamilton and moved behind him. He rubbed Hamilton's shoulders. "First class of the day was canceled," he whispered. "Want to do something?"
"What're you thinking?" Hamilton asked.
"Remember what we talked about last night…"
"Fuck, yeah!" Hamilton down set his coffee. "If we move the beds together, we'll have more space underneath. I have extra blankets we can use to hang from the sides."
"Sweet!"
They got off the bed and set to work making their blanket fort, giggling and hitting each other with pillows and stuffed animals.
When they dragged themselves away from their fun for class, they walked together holding hands. In the classes they shared, Hamilton and Burr stared at each other and passed notes. When they were alone, they sent texts instead.
"It's freezing!" Hamilton complained to Burr as they headed outside after their last class.
Burr wrapped his arms around him. "Want me to fix that?"
Hamilton kissed him. "Please." He grabbed Burr's hand and pulled him along at a jog. Snow crunched beneath their boots as they slipped and laughed.
Laurens watched from the common area as Hamilton stomped snow off his boots and grinned at Burr. "Alexander." He sat on the back of the couch wearing a baggy flannel shirt over skinny jeans.
His cheeks remained red from the cold but Hamilton could feel his life draining away. "John." He glanced at Burr. "I'll be right there," he whispered.
"Don't talk to him, Alex," Burr pleaded. "You know it won't do any good."
"Two minutes, I promise."
Burr's shoulders dropped but he walked down the hall to their dorm.
Hamilton approached Laurens. "What?"
"Why did you lie to me?" Laurens demanded.
"What're you talking about?" Hamilton frowned.
Laurens pushed off from the couch and stomped into Hamilton's space. "You've been fucking Burr. I thought—" His voice cracked and he ground his teeth in irritation. "I thought I was making it up. Why would you keep lying to me?"
Hamilton took a step back. "I'm done with you, John. You'll never trust me, that's a hundred percent clear now. Don't talk to me again."
"Alex." Laurens grabbed his coat. "Please. Why did you want to hurt me?"
Hamilton jerked away. "Leave me alone. I never lied to you."
"Alex!" Laurens grabbed him with both hands this time. "Don't do this," he begged. "I lost my virginity it you; I told you I loved you. You said it back. Why can't you—" His voice broke again as it rose higher. "Alex…"
Hamilton struggled to pry Laurens' hands off his coat and not let his own emotions break free. "I thought I loved you but you can't let anything fucking go. Get off of me!"
"I will this time, I promise," Laurens pleaded. "Please?"
Hamilton pushed him back. "Don't talk to me." He backed away. "For real, John." He turned and ran to his dorm.
Burr set his phone aside when Hamilton opened the door. "Well?"
"I don't know what's wrong with him," Hamilton said. He locked the door and crossed the small room to where Burr sat at his desk. "I'm not going to talk to him again, I promise, Aaron."
"I'm not worried about you being with him," Burr said and pulled Hamilton onto his lap. "More that he's going to harass or hurt you or me."
Hamilton rested his head on Burr's shoulder. "Same."
"Tell Washington," Burr suggested. "John is one of his boys. He might know why he's acting like this."
Hamilton swallowed unsure if he wanted to open that can of worms. "Maybe."
Burr kissed his cheek. "You stay here and get warm. I'll get us some dinner. Give me half an hour."
Hamilton stood and smiled. "Okay." He watched Burr leave and pulled out his phone. It had been on silent and he was thankful for that when he saw a dozen texts from Laurens. He cussed under his breath. How many times had he and Laurens agreed their relationship wasn't exclusive? Where was this pathetic jealousy coming from?
Stop or I'll block your number, Hamilton texted.
Let me explain.
Hamilton closed his eyes. Block the number and be done with it.
Fine.
Laurens was at his room in seconds. "Remember when we first met?" he said, his voice fast. "Remember how much chemistry we had? We had, like, soulmate potential, Alex. You're the first person I loved. I don't want to share you. I know I was a jerk, but I couldn't help it because I didn't know what to do with these feelings. I still don't, Alex. Please, give me another chance. You can be with Burr, too, I don't care, I just don't want to lose you." His pretty eyes pleaded as his face wrinkled up in despair.
Hamilton chewed on his fingernails. Of course, he remembered the first time they met. He'd never felt that before either. It was easy to fall back to that as a reason they should remain together. But they hadn't even known each other. And he couldn't ignore the contradictions in the desperate speech Laurens just gave. He wasn't going to let Hamilton have anyone else and Hamilton feared that might eventually become any friend at all. Laurens would see traitor in every action.
"Please, say something, Alex," Laurens murmured. "I love you."
"You have to go, John," Hamilton mumbled to the floor. "I meant what I said—don't talk to me."
Laurens posture dropped and he stepped forward. "Alex—"
"I'll call campus security, John. Leave."
Laurens did the opposite and threw himself at Hamilton, grabbing his face and attempting a kiss.
Hamilton struggled to fight him off but Laurens had a few inches and at least thirty pounds over him, and he'd been getting good at wrestling.
Laurens pinned Hamilton's arms back and ground his crotch into Hamilton's. "Take me back, please." Tears ran down his cheeks and fell on Hamilton's lips.
"Jack…"
Laurens grasp loosened.
Hamilton got a hand free and brushed at Laurens' cheeks. "What happened to you?"
Laurens grabbed Hamilton's shirt and pressed it against his face. "Just love me, please."
"Jack—"
"I don't have anyone, Alex. My family hates me. I don't know what to do." He let go of Hamilton's shirt and gripped the back of his neck. "At least be my friend. Don't say you will block my number. I can't lose you."
Hamilton nodded as his resolve broke. "We'll stay friends."
"Thank you." Laurens sucked in a deep breath.
Hamilton braced himself for the next explosion but Laurens left without another word.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Madison hurried to the bathroom before class started and changed from his khaki slacks into a pleated knee-length skirt. He sighed with relief to get out of the pants. Most of the time what he wore didn't consume him and he could wear whatever was expected of him, to school at least. But today those pants just weren't happening. The very touch of them against his legs made him cringe. He stuffed them in the front pocket of his backpack and went to class.
The skirt got him fewer looks than the jumper did and he was pleased that his mom had offered to order one online for him. It also felt less childish than wearing a jumper.
Adams stopped him in the hall between classes. "Back to this again? You know, it wasn't much of a punishment if you enjoy it."
"Leave me alone, Jonathan." Madison tried to walk around him.
"No, you didn't learn your lesson." Adams grabbed his arm. "I had a perfect opportunity to humiliate someone and neither you nor that stupid red-head got trashed. I deserve blood."
Madison's heart thudded in his chest and his nostrils flared. "Let go," he squeaked.
"No." Adams dragged him along. "Scream and I'll stab you. Give you the vagina you want."
Madison's teeth dug into his lip and his body weakened. "Jonathan, please." He pushed at Adam's hand clenched around his arm. Tears burned his eyes. Panicked thoughts raced through his mind. Thomas—don't let him know—scream—don't make a sound—I need help! "Don't hurt me. I'll do what you want."
Adams shoved him into the bathroom. He pulled a doorstop out of his pocket and jammed it under the door.
Tears spilled down Madison's cheeks. He trembled and hugged himself. Get help—get help—scream—I need Thomas. His mind stumbled to think of anyone who could help him and the horrible reality that none of them was close enough. If he could get to his phone… But without pockets, he had stashed it in his backpack.
He opened his mouth to beg again but no sound came forth, his vocal cords paralyzed with fear.
Adams yanked off Madison's backpack and tossed it across the bathroom. It slid under the sinks. He pressed a finger against Madison's lips. "Not a sound, fag."
At that point, he couldn't have even if he wanted. None of this was real. He didn't feel real.
Adams pulled out his phone and propped it up on the counter with a stand. He yanked Madison in view of the camera. "Let's see what you got going on under this getup." He fingered the buttons on Madison's cardigan. "This is boys." He grabbed at the v-neck opening and yanked off several buttons.
A whimper slipped out of Madison's mouth and he squeezed his eyes shut. Don't hurt me—I'll do what you want—I can't let Thomas know—don't rape me.
Adams threw the cardigan on the floor and trailed his fingers down the buttons on Madison's white shirt. "Also boys. Dang, you messed up."
Every muscle tightened in Madison's body as Adams unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it open. He missed one button and it flew off. Madison focused on its progress as it bounced across the counter and rolled down a sink and into the drain.
"You like the attention, don't you?" Adams purred. "That's why you dress like this. Funny how no one still gives a shit about you. Maybe this video will make you more popular. I know your boyfriend Thomas is more popular after his ass got exposed around campus."
Madison ground his teeth, his breath whistling in his nose. Adams' voice didn't make sense to him. Everything around him faded in and out, dark and blurry beyond Adams' face. If he fainted, what would happen? He shook his head. Stay conscious.
Adams squeezed his cheek. "Let's see what's down below."
A knock sounded on the bathroom door.
For a mere second, the hope of rescue dashed through Madison's brain. A rush of strength flooded back into his body.
But the noise went away and Adams yanked his skirt down, the zipper pinched his skin and sent him back to reality or as real as his hazy, disassociated mind could manage.
"Boy's underwear, too?" Adams said. "I don't get your fet—"
Madison slammed his head into Adams'.
He stumbled back rubbing his forehead.
Madison gave him no chance to recover and kicked him in the crotch. Dark spots filled his own vision and he stumbled backward.
Adams cussed in pain with his hands pressed to his groin.
Madison staggered against the counters and knocked Adams' phone down. His depth perception wavered and he struggled to grasp the phone. Finally, his fingers gripped the plastic case. His legs gave out and he fell hard on his butt, legs splayed under him.
The phone was yanked from his hands and Adams smacked him against the side of the head with it. "Go to hell, faggot."
The door closed and Madison's vision cleared for a brief moment. He dragged himself over to his backpack and found his phone. He called Jefferson.
Jefferson winced when his phone rang in the middle of class. He recognized the ringtone as Madison's and stood to leave and answer it.
"Sit," commanded his professor.
"Sorry. I have to take this."
"Hand it over." The professor held out his hand.
"Can't." Jefferson answered on the last ring. "Jemmy?" He let the classroom door clatter shut behind him.
Silence.
"Jem?" Jefferson's heartrate sped up and tingles ran down his arms. "James?"
"Come get me," Madison whispered, his voice slurred and barely recognizable.
"Jemmy, what happened?" Jefferson ran down the hall towards the exit.
"I need help." That same tortured tone.
"I'm on my way, Jem." Jefferson shoved the exit open and ran faster towards his truck. "Stay with me. Are you still at school?"
A long pause dragged on before Madison answered. "Yes."
"Okay. I'm at my truck." Jefferson dug for his keys in his pockets and for once cussed his cargo pants for having too much storage space. He couldn't remember which pocket held his keys. He almost dropped his phone as panic and rage raced through his hands as he searched. Finally, he grasped the fob and accidentally hit the alarm.
Panicked tears burned his eyes as he unlocked the door and jammed the key in the ignition. The ear-splitting alarm stopped.
"Jemmy, talk to me," he half shouted into the phone as he backed out without looking. The tires squealed as he peeled out of the parking lot and bumped over the curb. "James!"
"My head hurts," Madison whispered.
"Okay, babe." Jefferson panted and willed his heart not to explode as it hammered in his chest. "I'm two minutes away." He sped through a red light and careened around a car in his path.
The high school was in sight and he blew through two stop signs and parked directly in front of the building. He'd get a ticket. His car would probably get towed. He left the keys in it. Let someone steal it. He didn't care.
"I'm here. Do you know where you are?" Jefferson asked.
No response.
"Jemmy!"
Jefferson yanked open the one unlocked door to the office and met the face of the bewildered receptionist.
"Thomas?"
"James is hurt." Jefferson managed to say although it was a struggle not to scream. "I need to find him." His voice cracked. He almost dropped his phone as his hands went numb. He hyperventilated and paced. "Now."
"Yes," the receptionist said and flew into her own panic and knocked her keyboard off the desk.
"Oh, my God," Jefferson shouted and bolted out of the office. He ran for the nearest restroom. Madison would be somewhere isolated. A locked toilet stall, an empty classroom. Jefferson knew the school well, knew the class schedules. The first bathroom was empty. He ran down the hall to a classroom he knew wasn't in use that day. Nothing. He screamed into his phone again not even aware that Madison had hung up.
Students got out of his way as he thundered down the hallway. Someone shouted his name.
He threw open the bathroom door at the end of the hallway. A doorstop skidded across the floor.
"Jemmy!" Jefferson fell to his knees in front of Madison and checked his pulse. "Don't be dead." The words slipped out of clenched teeth along with a hissed scream. "Jem!"
The pulse was steady.
Jefferson sucked in a shaky breath. Judging by the large bump on Madison's head, he had been knocked out. But… Where were his pants? Jefferson bit down on his fingertips. Heat washed over his body and bile burned his throat. He couldn't—He didn't know what to do.
The bathroom door opened and the principal walked over. "Thomas?"
Jefferson pressed a hand against his mouth. "Call 911," he whispered and threw up.
An ambulance arrived a few minutes later and the principal called Madison's parents. Jefferson rode with Madison in the ambulance on his own gurney after he passed out. His mom was called as well.
Jefferson came to as the ambulance neared the hospital.
"Easy," someone said as Jefferson jerked upright.
"Where's James?" he shouted
"Right next to you," the paramedic said in an even tone. "Take a deep breath."
"Fuck that." Jefferson squeezed Madison's hand. "Jemmy!"
"Sir, you need to calm down or I will sedate you."
"What's wrong with him?" Jefferson demanded. "Was he raped? Who hurt him?" He clutched his chest as pain raced through his body.
"Lay down," the paramedic demanded. "Are you experiencing chest pains?"
Jefferson gnawed on his fingertips and tasted blood. "I—I don't know. Don't let him be hurt!" His breathing escalated.
"I'm giving you a sedative." The paramedic quickly injected him as the ambulance braked to a stop.
Jefferson tipped back on his gurney and his breathing deepened.
TWENTY-EIGHT
"He'll be expelled but you know how lax school punishments are."
Jefferson squinted at the blinding fluorescent lights above him. He jerked upright and the room spun.
"Thomas, you're going to kill yourself." Mrs. Jefferson pushed her son back against the hospital bed. "James is going to be fine. You on the other hand almost gave yourself a heart attack. The paramedic said you had quite the panic attack."
Jefferson closed his eyes as his head pounded. "Was he raped?" he whispered as shooting pain flashed up both arms.
"No."
Jefferson sucked in a deep breath. He opened his eyes again and found his mom and Mrs. Washington standing next to his bed, the one who had mentioned someone being expelled. "Who attacked him?" He pressed his hand against his mouth and frowned at the bandages on two of his fingers.
"You bit yourself," Mrs. Jefferson said. She stroked her son's arm. "It was Jonathan Adams."
"George is going to see about him getting punished further," Mrs. Washington said.
"He needs to be in jail!" Jefferson shouted. "I'm going to kill him!" He pushed himself up.
"Stay down," Mrs. Jefferson commanded. "We understand your agitation. Don't make this more difficult."
"Can I see Jem?" Jefferson's eyes pleaded with both women.
"Not until you're calmer," his mom said. She stroked his hair. "Right now you'll just get him upset."
Jefferson rubbed his eyes with his unbitten hand. "Mom, I need to see him."
Mrs. Jefferson looked at Mrs. Washington. "The doctor will make that call."
"I'll go ask," Mrs. Washington said and left the room.
Mrs. Jefferson handed her son a tissue as tears leaked down his cheeks. "You and James are dating, aren't you?" she asked with a sigh.
"Not yet," Jefferson mumbled. "Two more weeks." He pressed a hand against his chest as the pain returned.
Mrs. Jefferson managed a smile. "His eighteenth birthday. Well, I guess that's prudent." She kissed his forehead.
"Thanks." Jefferson dabbed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
Mrs. Washington returned with the doctor.
The doctor studied him. "Do you promise not to yell or throw yourself at James?"
Jefferson nodded.
"Alright. Come with me."
Jefferson stumbled off the bed and realized for the first time that he wore a hospital gown over only socks and underwear. Didn't matter. He followed the doctor two rooms down.
Mr. and Mrs. Madison and Washington sat in the room. Madison lay on the hospital bed eyes on the TV playing a cartoon. A dark bruised knot covered his forehead.
Jefferson swallowed and willed himself not to cry. The pain returned to his chest and he wondered if he wouldn't have a heart attack before Madison left the hospital. "Jemmy." His voice came out broken and weak.
Madison's gaze pulled from the TV and tears filled his eyes as they found Jefferson.
"He's concussed," the doctor said, "so he may have trouble focusing or talking."
Jefferson barely heard him as he moved towards the side of the bed and took Madison's hand. "I love you," he whispered. "I almost want to ask you to marry me because you're the most important thing in the world and I'm not going to lose you."
Madison squeezed his hand. His eyes drifted back towards the TV.
Jefferson straightened and pulled his hand away. He looked towards the doctor. "Can't he talk at all? He knows who I am right?" His breathing escalated and a sudden rush of heat made him waver on his feet.
"Sit, son," Washington murmured and pushed a chair at him.
Jefferson collapsed on it.
"He hasn't spoken," the doctor said. "Likely a form of psychological trauma. I don't doubt that he recognizes you but he's having trouble focusing. He needs lots of rest."
Jefferson's chests heaved in quick bursts.
Washington rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't pass out on us, Thomas."
"Thomas should return to his bed," the doctor said.
"No." Jefferson jumped up and took Madison's hand again.
Madison recoiled at the sudden touch and whimpered.
"Jem, no," Jefferson cried. "It's me. No one is ever going to hurt you again." He struggled to catch his breath and pounded his fist against his chest.
The doctor hurried further into the room. "Thomas, at least sit. You're going to pass out."
"No." Jefferson stumbled on his feet as the room shimmered and grew dark.
Fingers pinched at his nose.
"Wake up."
Jefferson's eyes flew open. "Jemmy!"
"Easy," Madison said and pressed a hand against his chest. "Don't pass out again."
Jefferson pushed himself upright and smiled. "Are you okay?"
"Better than you, apparently." Madison tucked his feet up in his wheelchair. A nurse remained in the doorway of the room. "My parents said you took this really hard."
"Yeah, Jem, you…" Jefferson bit his lip unable to think about it.
"I'm okay, T, I promise." Madison took his hand. "My head hurts but that happened because I fought back."
"He would've—he could've…"
"I'm not going to think about it." Madison took a deep breath. He shuddered, then straightened his shoulders. "The answer is yes by the way."
"Huh?"
"To marrying you." Madison smiled.
Jefferson managed a chuckle. "Good. But let's start with me asking you out in two weeks."
"Thirteen days."
"Shit, how long have we been here?"
Madison giggled. "Overnight. You could have gone home but the doctor was pretty convinced you'd either have a heart attack or stroke."
"I never want you hurt, Jem." Jefferson sucked in a shaky breath. "Can you lay with me?"
Madison nodded. He unfolded his legs and climbed on the bed. He buried his face against Jefferson's chest. Safe and secure, his eyes moistened and hot tears spilled down his cheeks. His shoulders shook and a sob escaped.
Jefferson held him tight as his own tears fell. "It'll never happen again," he whispered and closed his eyes. "No one is ever going to hurt you."
Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail while he and Jefferson waited for their other debate teammates to arrive. "So, how are you doing?" he mumbled.
Jefferson shrugged.
"And James?"
"Today's his first day back to school," Jefferson said. "I wish I was picking him up right now and not sitting here."
"You should be." Hamilton glanced at him.
"I missed two meetings." He sucked in a quivering breath. "Washington won't kick me off the team but we debate live next week and we suck."
Hamilton shrugged. "I'll go with you."
Jefferson frowned. "What?"
"To pick up James." Hamilton met his dark eyes. "We can make it if we leave now."
Jefferson nodded slowly. "Okay."
They stood and hurried out before the other two and Washington arrived.
Hamilton got in the passenger seat of the truck and gazed at the screen and numerous buttons. "This is… Quite the rig."
"Yeah." Jefferson put it in reverse. It was pure luck he still had it after it got towed away from the high school. In any other circumstance, his mom would have sold it and beat his ass with the cash for being so careless and breaking several laws.
He spotted Mrs. Madison's Corvette in the pickup lane and parked a few cars behind her. He left Hamilton in the truck to go wait with her.
"So, he made it the whole day?" he said.
Mrs. Madison smiled at him. "Yes."
Jefferson spotted the sparkly pompom and headed towards Madison. "Hey, Jemmy."
Madison looked up with exhausted eyes.
Jefferson took his backpack and scooped him up with the other arm. "Was everything okay?"
Madison nodded.
"Alexander came with me if you want to say hi to him."
Madison nodded again.
Hamilton had already gotten out of the truck and stood near Mrs. Madison.
Jefferson set Madison down and put his backpack in the Corvette.
"Hey, James," Hamilton mumbled. "Your hat looks awesome."
A little smile tugged at Madison's lips. "Thanks."
"May I hug you?"
In response, Madison wrapped his arms around Hamilton.
"I knew he was rotten," Hamilton whispered. "You're safe now, alright?"
Madison kept his head on Hamilton's shoulder. "I miss you being in my class."
"Same." Hamilton rubbed his back. "I know you'll be busy this weekend, but I'll come over next weekend, okay?"
Madison lifted his head and met Hamilton's eyes. "I'd like that."
"Good." Hamilton kissed his cheek. "Stay strong."
"Thanks, Alex." Madison turned away and just caught the irritation in Jefferson's eyes before he controlled himself. He took the few steps towards Jefferson and tugged at his jacket. "Don't be jealous."
"Sorry." Jefferson wiped Madison's cheek. "I'll see you Wednesday, yes?"
For a moment, Madison tried to be stern, maybe say no, but a grin claimed his face instead. "Yes."
Jefferson let him head home with his mom and returned to his truck with Hamilton.
"Sorry that you failed," Hamilton said as he buckled his seatbelt.
"What?" Jefferson asked and a panicked flutter hit his chest from all the things he had failed. Like keeping Madison safe.
"To keep me away from James," Hamilton clarified. "You did freak me out for a while after you kissed me. You almost succeeded."
"Yeah, well…" Jefferson turned the truck away from the high school. "I still don't like you."
"Feelings still mutual."
TWENTY-NINE
Hamilton looked up in surprise to see Lafayette coming towards his table in the cafeteria. "Are you lost?"
Lafayette rolled his eyes. "Are you busy tonight? I want you to come to dinner with me and my girlfriend Adrienne."
"Sure." Hamilton glanced at Burr sitting across from him. "May I bring a date?"
"I suppose. We're just going to grab a pizza. Like six?"
"Works for me." Hamilton watched Lafayette walk away and leaned over the table with his feet on the chair towards Burr. "Want to be my date?"
Burr grinned. "Nah."
"Aaron!" Hamilton smacked his hand. "Please?"
Burr chuckled. "Okay. Sit before you hurt yourself."
The words left his mouth right as Hamilton's chair slid backward. Hamilton grabbed the table to keep himself from falling, grabbed his plate instead, tipped it, and dumped himself and his spaghetti on the floor.
Burr sighed. "Can't you learn to sit properly?" He got up and helped Hamilton to his feet.
Sauce splattered the front of his shirt and spaghetti stuck to the front of his jeans where his plate had landed.
Jefferson walked by as he headed for his usual booth. "Not sure why I ever intentionally tried to embarrass you, you do it plenty on your own."
Hamilton glared at him.
"Hold still," commanded Burr as he grabbed a napkin.
Hamilton at once moved a hand in front of his crotch. "Don't even unless you have nothing else to do today."
Burr ducked his head and dabbed at the sauce on Hamilton's shirt. "Maybe I don't have anything else to do," he murmured.
Hamilton moved his hand. "Then by all means."
A smile tugged at Burr's lips. "I do have class, but I'll help you change."
Hamilton's eyes lit up and he grabbed Burr's hand to dash off.
"Are you going to clean that up?" Jefferson called out from his corner.
Hamilton ground his teeth. He and Burr cleaned up the mess and hurried back to their dorm.
"Go on, undress me," Hamilton said as soon as he locked the door.
Burr sucked in his lips. "You sure?"
"Please." He kissed the corner of Burr's mouth. "I'm filthy."
Burr swallowed and eased the back of Hamilton's shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. He undid the button Hamilton's jeans and pulled down the zipper. He tugged down Hamilton's jeans, lowering his body as he moved down.
"You're going to have to fuck me now," Hamilton murmured when Burr's face was level with his crotch.
"Told you, I have class." Burr tugged at Hamilton's boxers and lowered them an inch.
"Damnit, Burr." Hamilton ran a hand over Burr's short hair.
Burr grinned at him. "We're in a bit of a pickle."
"No kidding."
"Not that. I didn't take your shoes off and I can't get your jeans off otherwise."
Hamilton rubbed at himself. "Don't worry about that. Do something to fix my other problem."
Burr stood and kissed Hamilton. "I have class." He kissed him again.
"I hate you so much right now," Hamilton grumbled. He nipped at Burr's neck and moved a hand under his shirt. He moved his body closer.
"Alex…" Burr ran his hands down Hamilton's side as he lowered himself. He pulled down Hamilton's boxers and went to work with his mouth.
"Oh, shit," murmured Hamilton. He dug his hands into Burr's shoulders. "You're—" His words turned into a long moan and he almost lost his balance as his legs weakened.
Burr finished and stood. He nudged his nose against Hamilton's face. "Better?"
"I really like you."
"I know." Burr touched his lips with a finger. "I'll see you tonight."
A few hours later, Hamilton and Burr walked to the nearby pizza place and headed inside.
Lafayette and Adrienne had already gotten a table and waved them over.
Adrienne was a pretty brunette, curvy, and a good head shorter than Lafayette. She greeted the boys with a shy smile. "You and Lafayette are foster brothers?" she asked Hamilton with a light French accent.
"Yeah," Hamilton said.
"Lafayette says you're younger?"
Hamilton shot him an annoyed look. "We're the same age. I'm almost a year older."
"Settle down, little lion," Lafayette teased.
"Do you tell everyone I'm younger than you?" Hamilton asked.
"I tell everyone a lot of stuff about you." Lafayette smiled.
Hamilton groaned.
"Let's get our pizza ordered," Lafayette suggested. "What does everyone want? Adrienne is a vegetarian."
"I want every meat possible," Hamilton said, "so we might want to order separate pizzas."
"That's okay with me," Adrienne said. "I can order a personal pizza if you boys want meat."
"Nah," Lafayette said. "I'll have whatever you want."
Hamilton scooted closer to Burr on the bench. "What do you want to get?" He leaned in to look at the menu.
Burr pointed to a meat-loaded pizza with Italian spices.
"Definitely."
Lafayette closed his menu. "I have to ask, Alex. I thought you had something going on with John? Is that not a thing anymore?"
"We're done," Hamilton said. "He's been acting like a prick. I don't want to talk about it."
"So are you and Burr dating or is it the same weird pseudo-relationship you had going on with John?"
Hamilton picked at his fingernails.
"I don't think he wants to talk about that either," Adrienne whispered to Lafayette.
Lafayette sighed. "You're a mess, Alex. You talk to Dad about all this shit, right?"
"How're you doing in debate?" Hamilton asked to change the subject, which quickly backfired. "Who's on your team anyway?"
"Charles, Hercules, and John." Lafayette watched him. "John's doing really good."
"Can we talk about something else?" Burr butted in. "Adrienne, where you from?"
Hamilton sighed in relief as Adrienne talked about the little town in France where she grew up and how she moved to the US at fourteen. That prompted Hamilton to mention he'd been born in the Caribbean.
"What about you, Aaron?" Adrienne asked.
Burr sat up straighter and his eyes snapped away from staring at Hamilton. "New Jersey." He sipped on his Dr. Pepper, chewing on the straw.
"Do you live in the city now?" she asked. "Lafayette has promised to show me everything."
"Nowhere worth visiting," Burr assured her.
"But, like, where do you live?" Hamilton asked. "I know you went to district eight. How close to there do you live?"
Burr chewed on his straw and was saved from answering by the arrival of their pizza. The question was forgotten as everyone dug into their hot pie.
THIRTY
On March 16th, Jefferson skipped his last class and headed to Madison's high school to pick him up. He watched the crowd of students leaving and spotted Madison bent over under the weight of his backpack and moving slow. Jefferson headed towards him.
Madison glanced up and a smile brightened his face.
Jefferson returned it and took his bag. He slipped it over one shoulder and took Madison's hand, leading him towards his truck parked on a nearby quiet side street. "Happy birthday, Jem."
Madison grinned.
They approached the truck from the back. Jefferson dropped down the tailgate and sat Madison on it. "So..."
"Yes," Madison said at once.
Jefferson chuckled. "I was going to ask you how your day was."
"Thomas," Madison whined and swung his legs.
"Oh, alright." Jefferson took Madison's hand and kissed his fingers. "Would you like to go out with me?"
"Yes." Madison stared up at him and touched the front of Jefferson's shirt as if to grab it and yank him close. But he wasn't sure what to do.
Jefferson wasn't any braver. "I'll take you out for dinner," he mumbled.
"Okay." Madison scooted towards the edge of the tailgate and rested his head against Jefferson's chest. Fast thudding sounded in his ear. "Were you nervous about asking me?"
Jefferson brushed Madison's hair back over his shoulders. "A little."
Madison giggled. "You already practically asked me to marry you, silly."
Jefferson tugged Madison's hat over his eyes at a loss for a comeback.
Madison pushed his hat up and wrapped his arms around Jefferson's neck. "Can we have an early dinner?"
"Sure." Jefferson secured Madison in his arms and closed the tailgate.
Madison slipped to the ground and got in the passenger side.
Jefferson put his backpack in the back seat and grabbed a canvas bag before he got in the driver's seat. "In case you wanted to change out of your uniform."
"Yeah, thanks." Madison pulled out jeans and a sweater. He was small enough to easily strip off his slacks in the front seat and wiggle into skinny jeans. He exchanged the navy blue uniform cardigan for the striped sweater.
Jefferson stared out the window. He knew Madison had nightmares from the attack, but he was recovering with the help of a therapist. His own fears seemed slower to dissipate and made him feel selfish since nothing bad had physically happened to him. "Where to, Jem?"
"First, you did tell my mom you were picking me up, right?" Madison asked. "She's not like waiting for me and freaking out?"
Jefferson smiled. "I told her. I'm to have you home by eight."
Madison's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Okay. That's a lot later than usual."
"Well, it is your eighteenth birthday."
Madison's smile widened. "Can we go downtown? That's where the best milkshakes are."
"Of course." Jefferson started the truck.
It was early enough in the afternoon that he found a decent parking space close to Madison's favorite restaurant. It was pricey but the food was good and it was a special occasion. They were quickly seated and ordered their milkshakes.
"Did everything go okay today?" Jefferson asked.
"Tolerable," Madison said. "Some of my classmates have actually spoken to me."
"That's good."
Madison set down the menu, already decided on what he wanted. "Can I get an appetizer?"
"Whatever you want."
Madison reached across the table and touched his hand. "You?"
Jefferson cleared his throat. "Um..."
"You're so cute," Madison teased.
They placed their order and talked about summer plans. During a pause, after their appetizer arrived, Madison asked. "Are we telling people? You're out to everyone but Dad doesn't know yet. I don't know how he'll react." He chewed on a mozzarella stick.
"We can keep it quiet for a few months," Jefferson suggested taking his own. "Get used to it ourselves, you know? Although, some already know this was going to happen. We've been waiting for two years and I kind of feel like I have to retrain my brain." And figure out what was wrong with himself, Jefferson thought. That feeling in the hot tub hadn't returned—which part of him was thankful for—but it continued to concern him and he still didn't know how to tell Madison. That switch he hoped would flip hadn't.
"I get that." Madison reached across the table and laced their fingers together.
Jefferson caught the stares of an older couple seated a row behind Madison. His cheeks burned but he didn't want to tell Madison. He had a feeling the couple's reaction wasn't even a gay thing since only seeing Madison from behind they probably assumed he was a girl. The couple was old, it could be a race thing, but Jefferson thought the biggest issue would be how young Madison looked compared to himself. Height automatically assumed age and Madison was nearly a foot shorter and built like a twig. Jefferson had played football in high school, and although he'd let his workout routine slide in college, he still had a muscular build. How often were people going to think he was a pervert dating a young teen? Or even better, kidnapping him? He was glad Madison wasn't still wearing a school uniform.
"What's wrong, T?" Madison asked. He glanced back to where Jefferson had been looking. He spotted the couple and smiled. They looked away.
"Be prepared for that to happen a lot," Jefferson mumbled.
"What?" Madison asked brow wrinkled.
"Stares, comments."
"Why?"
Jefferson's own forehead wrinkled. "Umm, look at us."
Madison shrugged. "I don't notice that you're black."
"You look very young," pointed out Jefferson.
"Oh." Madison chewed his lip. "Yeah, I get that. I do kind of think of myself as still being, like, fourteen."
Jefferson made a face. "Don't say that."
Madison gave a quick smile. "Sorry. It'll be fine, T. We know how old we are."
Jefferson nodded.
Their food arrived and they fell silent as they ate.
"Do you want dessert here or somewhere else?" Jefferson asked when they finished.
"Somewhere else," Madison said. "There's a bakery not far away that makes the best chocolate cake."
Jefferson smiled. "Okay."
He paid and they headed out to walk around downtown. Too full yet for cake, they browsed through shops. Around six, they left a bookstore and headed for the bakery.
Madison slipped his hand in Jefferson's and leaned close to him.
"Cold?" Jefferson asked.
Madison nodded.
"We're almost there." The only thing he had to offer was the flannel shirt he wore over a long-sleeve t-shirt but he didn't fancy Madison walking into the nice bakery drowning in flannel.
At least the bakery was nice and warm.
Madison dragged Jefferson over to the display and pointed out the cake he wanted. "And hot chocolate."
Jefferson gave an amused grin and ordered two pieces of chocolate cake and two hot chocolates.
Madison found them a table near a crackling fireplace.
"Decent birthday?" Jefferson asked.
"Yeah." Madison grinned. "I got a boyfriend." He stroked Jefferson's palm and gazed into his dark eyes.
Jefferson looked away after a few seconds as heat crept up his neck at the attention. He was putting too much pressure on himself, he knew. Madison was always all over him, why was the attention today making him unsure? Because it felt sexual now, his mind told him, and he didn't know what to do with that.
A waitress brought their cake and drinks over. Madison sipped his drink and managed to get whipped cream on his nose.
Jefferson reached over with a napkin. "You're a disaster, you know that?"
Madison bobbed his head in agreement, as he stuffed cake in his mouth.
A chill wind blew by the time they left the bakery. Jefferson gave up his flannel shirt and draped it over Madison. It fell past his knees.
Jefferson tried to hurry as he froze but Madison was worn out from the long day and lagged. "Piggyback ride?" he suggested.
Madison nodded and climbed on his back when Jefferson knelt down.
Back in the truck, Jefferson cranked up the heat and rubbed Madison's chilled fingers. "Too bad you don't have a summer birthday."
"Then you wouldn't need to warm me up," Madison countered. He climbed over the console and sat in Jefferson's lap.
"What're you doing?" Jefferson kept his hands away hoping to discourage anything as Madison straddled him. "It's after seven and it's a twenty-minute drive."
"One kiss," Madison insisted. "I've been waiting forever."
Jefferson nodded and tried to calm his pounding heart. He cupped Madison's face. But could only think of smashing his lips into Hamilton's and realizing he didn't know how to kiss properly.
Madison leaned in closer and brushed their lips together. It was rough, aggressive—as neither knew quite how much pressure to use—and wet.
Jefferson pulled back first. "Sorry."
"A little slimy," Madison said. "We'll get better."
Jefferson nodded.
Madison leaned in again but Jefferson kissed his forehead instead. "I have to get you home. We'll practice this weekend."
Madison smiled.
Jefferson drove towards the Estates and punched in the code for the front gate. He parked in front of the house. "I have one more present for you." He opened the console and handed Madison the wrapped gift.
Madison unbuckled his seatbelt, ripped the paper, and opened the box of Build a Bear clothes for his collection. "Awesome, T! Thank you." He crawled half over the console to hug him.
"You're welcome, Jem. I hope you had fun today."
"Yes." Madison moved back to his seat. "See you Saturday?"
"Yeah." Jefferson opened his door to get Madison's backpack and walk him to the front door.
Madison grabbed the bag with his school uniform and put his present inside.
They embraced at the front door, lingering an extra moment in each other's arms.
Madison handed Jefferson his shirt back and headed inside.
Jefferson returned to his truck, shirt to his nose, pleased that a faint scent of Madison lingered.
THIRTY-ONE
Hamilton stretched out and rubbed his feet against Burr's bare legs while Burr kissed at his chest. It was late—he didn't want to know how late and he had a feeling his alarm would go off in an hour or two. They had gone out for dinner and spent hours sitting in the restaurant talking. They'd fooled around upon return, accidentally broke the blanket fort and had to rebuild. Now, all was quiet and serene.
Burr snuggled close to Hamilton and squeezed him. His eyes closed, ready to claim a little bit of sleep.
"I love you," Hamilton whispered.
Burr's breathing stopped and he tensed.
"You don't have to say it back," Hamilton reassured. "I just wanted you to know how I felt."
Burr kissed his neck. "Thanks."
Hamilton snuggled into him and tried to bury the hurt. It had been a risk to utter those words and he knew Burr had a harder shell that would take more time to crack. But he had hoped... It would mean he was making the right choice, at least, in pushing Laurens away. Because part of him still...
"How are you still horny?" asked Burr, breath warm against Hamilton's neck.
"Sorry. Ignore me." Hamilton brushed his hand against Burr's chest. "Sleep."
Burr settled in with a soft sigh.
Hamilton remained awake when his alarm went off an hour later. He rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to shower. If you had to choose, he asked himself as he shampooed his hair. First thing in your mind...
Burr.
A smile tugged at his lips. Of course, Burr wouldn't have said he loved him back, they'd only been "together" for a few weeks and Laurens remained a bit of a threat. He'd ask Burr out. He could do that, right? A commitment would be good. He'd managed it pretty well with Laurens after all. He hadn't slept around much since high school. He was getting better. He could do this.
Just not today.
Today was too soon and if Burr said no...
Hamilton finished rinsing and turned off the water. He dried and wrapped a towel around his waist.
Burr remained asleep, his first class starting later that day than Hamilton's did.
Hamilton dressed quietly, kissed his cheek, and hurried to class.
"Any plan for tonight?" Burr asked as they met up after their last class.
"Coffee," Hamilton said through a yawn. "I have to finish an essay."
"I'll get your coffee. Anything special?"
"Lots of sugar." Hamilton pecked his lips. "Thank you."
Burr headed to the coffee shop down the street, mind in a thousand different directions. Was Hamilton who he wanted? He'd never really put a lot of thought into it, it just seemed to happen and he liked it. But long term? As a boyfriend? Would Hamilton even go for that? He professed his love but Burr balked as those words were barely in his vocabulary. He couldn't remember ever telling Uncle Timothy "I love you" and he'd probably only told his sister that a handful of times. His family just didn't do love. What if he couldn't give Hamilton what he needed?
You're not marrying him right this second; he scolded himself as he pushed open the door to the coffee shop. Why worry about all that now? They were freshmen in college; live a little.
"What can I get you, hon?"
"Hamilton." Burr's cheeks burned at once and he forgot what all words were to correct himself.
The gal watched him with a bemused, somewhat concerned smile. "Pardon?"
The menu blurred before Burr's eyes. "Black," he mumbled. It was far from what Hamilton liked but it was the only word available to his muddled brain.
"Coming right up, hon."
Burr paid and retreated to a nearby table and pressed his hands against his hot cheeks.
His order was soon called and he took the cup and hurried out. There had to be another coffee shop nearby. He pulled out his phone to check and found one a few blocks away.
Hamilton jumped when the door opened forty-five minutes later and jerked out of a tired stupor. "Did you get lost?"
"No..." Burr handed over the cup.
Hamilton raised an eyebrow.
Burr rubbed his neck. "I fucked up at the first coffee place and said your name for an order," he stammered out.
Hamilton grinned. "That's adorable. I take it that wasn't such a drink?"
"Nope."
Hamilton set his cup down and got up from his desk. "You don't have to say it back, but I love you." He kissed Burr's lips. "You're amazing."
Burr pulled Hamilton closer to him but any words he could think to say stuck in his throat. "You should get back to your essay."
"Yes, sir." Hamilton kissed him again and returned to his desk. He gulped down his coffee while reading the pages he'd written.
"Do you want to go to dinner after?" Burr asked.
"This might take a while, sorry." Hamilton's eyes remained glued to his laptop.
"I can bring you something?"
"Aaron, I need to concentrate."
"Sorry." Burr closed the door softly behind him.
Hamilton finished and submitted his essay a few hours before the deadline. He picked up his phone and texted Burr, where are you?
He yawned and undressed for bed, too tired to worry. He fell asleep at once.
He woke around three felt the spot next to him on the two mattresses pushed together underneath their beds in the blanket fort.
"What?" Burr mumbled.
"Wasn't sure if you came back," Hamilton replied. He snuggled close.
"I thought you were mad," Burr said. He rolled over to face Hamilton.
"No, just tired and crabby." Hamilton tucked his head under Burr's chin and was asleep once more.
Hamilton sighed with relief to wake up on Saturday. He checked his phone—already after ten. The spot next to him was empty but he could hear the crinkle of a food wrapper nearby. He crawled out from under the blanket fort.
"Morning," Burr said. He sat at his desk, food and phone in front of him. "Poptart?"
"Please." Hamilton sat on his lap and took the pastry.
"You're, like, addicted to sitting on people, aren't you?" Burr said with a grin.
"Pretty much." He took a bite. "I'm small. I get away with it."
Burr tousled his hair. "I'm barely taller than you, buddy. You're not as tiny as you think," he teased. "Your friend, James, now he's tiny."
"Whatever." He wiped crumbs off his bare chest. "I sit on Washington all the time."
"He's six-two."
"What's your point, Burr?"
Burr grinned. "Your bony ass is crushing my legs."
Hamilton rolled his eyes but stood. "Are you doing anything today?"
Burr finished his last bite. "I thought we could watch a movie later." He opened the top drawer of his desk and handed Hamilton a DVD.
"Ghostbusters?" A smile stretched across his face. "How did you know it's one of my favorites?"
"I've seen your underwear, Alex," Burr said. "You have boxers with the ghost logo-thing on them."
"True." Hamilton bent down to kiss him but Burr stopped him.
"Sometimes you kiss a little too much," he admitted. "I love you but you're really touchy."
Hamilton's mouth dropped open. "You love me?"
Burr groaned. "Ugh."
Hamilton sat back on his lap and grabbed his face. "I knew it." He kissed Burr all over.
Burr squirmed and tickled Hamilton's sides until he bent over giggling.
"Alright, alright!" Hamilton panted. "Do you want to watch the movie now?"
"Sure."
They set themselves up with Hamilton's laptop under the blanket fort.
"I haven't watched this in forever," Hamilton said. "Who you gonna call?"
"Don't." Burr pressed a finger against Hamilton's lips. "I will kill you."
Hamilton licked Burr's finger.
Burr rolled his eyes.
The morning drifted away as they watched the movie, Hamilton quoting half the lines. Burr watched him in amusement.
Hamilton grinned at him.
"What?"
"I'm gonna sing."
Burr winced when he realized the Ghostbusters theme song was starting. "Don't. You can't sing."
Hamilton did anyway, as loud as he could.
Burr pushed him out of the blanket fort. "Hush!"
"Who you gonna call?" He held his fist out to Burr as if it was a microphone.
Burr sighed, "Ghostbusters."
"Yes!" He dragged Burr out with him. "Come on! You know you want to."
"No. No, I'm good."
Hamilton tickled Burr's stomach. "Come on! Best part!"
Resigning himself, Burr sang with him, unable not to grin at Hamilton in his boxers and socks dancing to the best of his white-ass ability.
"You're insane, Alex." He panted when the song ended and they could resume hiding in their fort.
Hamilton draped himself across Burr's back. "I know."
THIRTY-TWO
Jefferson parked his truck at his usual spot at Montpelier on Saturday.
Madison sat on the front porch waiting. He bounced down the steps and launched himself in Jefferson's arms as soon as he got out.
Jefferson clutched him tight and breathed in the fresh scent of his hair. "So…"
"Kiss me," Madison demanded.
"Can we go upstairs at least?" Jefferson asked.
"Ugh." Madison slipped out of his arms and grabbed his hand.
In his room, Madison shoved Jefferson towards the bed and climbed on him. Laying down face to face, though, he froze.
Jefferson brushed Madison's hair behind his ear. "First…" He rolled over and moved Madison's giant teddy bear off the bed. "Honey is staring at me."
Madison rolled his eyes.
Jefferson lay back down. "I'm not sure, but…" He cupped Madison's face and touched his lips softly to his boyfriend's. He pressed a little firmer and felt Madison's lips move against his.
Madison slipped in his tongue.
Jefferson almost bit him and he shoved Madison back. "No." He made a face. "Sorry."
"Jeez, calm down," Madison grumbled. He traced a finger against Jefferson's smooth lips. "You need to relax."
Jefferson took a breath and closed his eyes. He just needed practice. He would enjoy this. Everyone enjoyed this. This was normal. Plus, he had to do this. His best friend had waited two years. And he loved Madison more than he loved anyone. That switch would flip dammit.
He rolled Madison over and took charge kissing his mouth and neck.
Madison tilted his neck back and wrapped his legs around Jefferson's waist.
He just needed to warm up; Jefferson told himself, as their movement grew more fluid and their kisses less bland. He pulled at the collar of Madison's shirt and sucked below his collarbone.
Madison melted into the bed. He slipped a hand under Jefferson's shirt to keep his hands occupied and from reaching towards the very tempting curls on his head. He still remembered Jefferson slapping his hand at fourteen when he had stroked his hair once.
Jefferson pulled his lips from Madison's skin. "You can have it if you want," he whispered.
Madison grabbed the hem of Jefferson's shirt and pulled.
Jefferson eased it over his head and resumed kissing Madison as he pushed back the nagging boredom. He tried to think of something sexy and his mind stuck itself instead on a stupid commercial he'd heard on the radio during the drive over.
Madison nudged Jefferson away. "Are you even paying attention?"
"Huh?" Jefferson sat back on his legs. "Sorry. I'm not used to this."
Madison's face softened. "It's okay." He patted the bed. "Lay down."
Jefferson lay on his side facing Madison. He smiled and traced Madison's face. This he could do. Showering Madison with attention was easy as long as he needn't use his lips or—he fought a grimace—his genitals.
"You alright?" Madison questioned. "You look unsure."
"I've never dated before," Jefferson said and sat up. "It feels like we're moving really fast."
Madison sighed. "We've known each other forever, T. How many times have we already said 'I love you'? I know who you are. I don't need to go slow. You're still afraid, aren't you? You can tell me what's bothering you."
Jefferson shook his head. "It's fine. But I need to go slow." He glanced at his shirt lying on the edge of the bed. How offended would Madison be if he put it back on? Judging by the hurt already on his face, a lot.
Madison huffed another sigh. "I know I had a traumatic incident, but you don't need to be cautious. I'm not afraid of you."
"I'm glad to hear that." Jefferson touched Madison's chin. "But I still need to go slow," he repeated.
Madison grabbed Jefferson's hand and kissed his fingers. The cuts had healed, although pink lines remained. He slipped his mouth over his boyfriend's fingers and elicited a quick response.
"No." Jefferson pulled his hand away. "I'm barely okay with your mouth on mine right now. Don't push it."
A long, drawn-out groan came from Madison's throat. "Thomas, come on! I need a distraction."
"Can't we watch a movie?" Jefferson suggested.
"No." Madison pushed at his bare chest. "Lay down."
Jefferson complied and put up with a few more minutes of kissing before Madison gave up with another groan of defeat.
"I'll get better," Jefferson said and prayed to anything that would be true.
As promised, Hamilton headed over to Montpelier the next weekend. He handed over a plate of cookies before getting a long hug. "I helped Mom make them," he said holding Madison tight. "She did most of the work so they taste good."
Madison grinned as he pulled away. "I bet you could cook just fine."
"Hell, no."
They took the cookies upstairs to Madison's room. It seemed like ages ago since Hamilton had been there when he and Madison had made out. A lifetime ago.
"What do you want to do?" Madison asked. He set the plate on his dresser and peeled back the plastic wrap. "Do you like board games?"
"Sure." Hamilton took a cookie as well and followed Madison into his walk-in closet.
Madison pointed out his stack of board games.
"I love Candyland." Hamilton pulled the game out of the stack.
"Finally, someone who appreciates it." Madison grinned.
They sat on the floor and played three times with Hamilton losing each game. The third time, he tossed his game piece in the box with a grumble of defeat. "I'll admit failure," he said.
"I've never seen anyone that bad at Candyland," Madison said with a giggle. He boxed up the game and stood to get another cookie. "I have a question, Alex." He hesitated.
"Shoot," Hamilton said.
"How long does it take to get good at kissing?"
Hamilton shrugged. "It might take some time to get really good, but it doesn't take long to figure it out. You just have to learn how much pressure to use and stuff. Is Thomas bad?" Dumb question, he thought, thinking of his one experience with the dumbass and how terrible it had been.
"Yeah." Madison stuffed half the cookie in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "But he's mostly, like, not interested."
"Huh." Hamilton put the game back in the closet. "Are you sure he's gay?"
"Yes. But he seems so ill at ease. He can't be uncomfortable with me. I mean, I'm always on his lap and he's always kissed me anywhere except my lips. I don't get it."
"I dunno, James, I'm sorry." Hamilton reached for a cookie. "Maybe he's asexual."
Madison frowned. "Then why would he even agree to date?"
"He might not know." Hamilton touched his shoulder. "It'll be alright. It takes time to figure all this crap out. I'm not sure if I'm bisexual or pansexual, honestly."
Madison nodded. "You don't think…" He trailed off and shuddered.
Hamilton tightened his grip on Madison's shoulder. "What?"
"Do you think what…?" He closed his eyes and slowed down his breathing. "What Adams did repulsed Thomas? Like I'm damaged now?"
Hamilton took Madison's face in his hands. "If he thinks that, I will kill him. That wasn't your fault. You're still perfect, James."
Madison nodded. "I just get so scared thinking about what could have happened."
"You fought back." Hamilton let his hands slip back to Madison's shoulders. "It didn't happen. Could you talk to Thomas about that?"
"No." Madison brushed Hamilton's hands off his shoulders and reached for another cookie. "He freaks out if I mention it. He passed out a bunch of times."
"He needs to suck it up and be there for you," Hamilton insisted.
"He is," Madison assured. "He just has this insane guilt when something happens that he couldn't control. He blamed himself a lot when his father died like he was somehow supposed to cure cancer. I dunno. He puts a lot of pressure on himself."
"I can tell." Hamilton sighed. Considering that Madison didn't hate him, he knew Jefferson hadn't told about the picture. He had an urge to confess but he didn't want Madison to hurt more than he already did. "Do you have any Disney movies we could watch?"
"That's a dumb question," Madison said.
Hamilton chuckled. "I take it you have all of them?"
"Duh."
THIRTY-THREE
Jefferson jolted from a sound sleep by the sound of his phone ringing. He grabbed it from the desk behind him. The light overpowered his eyes and he couldn't see the name or number on the screen. "Hello?"
"Thomas, sorry to wake you."
Jefferson froze and his heartrate sped up. "Mr. Madison—Jem—"
"He had another nightmare." Mr. Madison sighed. "He's okay now. We've been having him sleep in our room and we woke when he started screaming. He had a seizure before he was fully conscious. He's okay," he repeated. "But we're on our way to the hospital to be a hundred percent certain. He's asking for you."
It was a lot to take in. Jefferson closed his eyes. "I'll be there." He hung up.
He squeezed at his bottom lip while a pounding filled his ears. He ground his teeth as his breath rasped in and out. He changed into jeans and a hoodie, forever thankful his roommate was never around. He headed to his truck in the dead of night while only one thought repeated in his mind: Revenge.
The hands weren't his own as fingers typed in an address on his phone from a scrap of paper stashed in the glove box of the truck.
Those same hands turned the key and put the truck in reverse. Different ears heard the directions and navigated through the still and dull streets of suburbia. Unknown feet pushed the brake in front of an ordinary one-story clapboard house with green shutters. Those feet carried him out of the truck and up the driveway. Strange eyes studied the house and noted an unlocked gate on the left.
Somehow, that body ended up in the backyard and spotted a half-open window on the side of the house.
Dark eyes peered inside and by the light of an open laptop, saw the sleeping lump of a young man in the bed.
The screen popped off almost too easily.
Freezing hands pushed up the window and a tall, muscular frame squeezed inside.
Adams remained asleep. A peaceful sleep he did not deserve. He needed to be in jail getting what he gave.
A hand pressed against his mouth and Adams jerked awake with a muffled scream. Another hand pushed the laptop closed and threw them into darkness.
Adams scrambled to get out of bed but he was subdued with little effort.
"You deserve death," a tortured voice growled at him. "You deserve to be raped and then raped again.
Tears spilled down Adams' face.
A hand slipped against his neck, squeezing… then let go. "I will come back if you hurt him again."
Adams bobbed his head as he wet the bed.
"Scream and I will punch your lights out."
More nodding.
The hand moved from his mouth.
At once, Adams let out a scream.
The hand socked him in the mouth, silencing the sound.
"I won't hesitate to kill you." The voice was deep, pained. "Do you understand?"
Adams spit out a mouthful of blood. "Yes."
"Good." He punched Adams again and squeezed back out the window.
He returned to the truck, bloody, numb hands on the steering wheel. He turned off the GPS and headed towards the hospital.
Jefferson parked his truck in the hospital lot as a throbbing headache overwhelmed him and his vision filled with grainy dots. The pain worsened until he gasped and clutched his head. He opened the door and puked on the pavement.
He leaned back against the seat, the pain dimming to a sharp ache.
His phone rang and sent the pain flaring for a moment. Jefferson struggled to grab his phone as his hand-eye coordinating vanished. "'Lo?"
"Just checking if you were able to come to the hospital," Mr. Madison said. "Jemmy is still asking. He's had a CT scan and all is good."
"I'm in the parking lot." Jefferson's words slurred together. "I think I'm having a migraine."
"Oh. Stay there. I will come find you."
Jefferson hung up and rested his head back. Headlights from another car hit his back window and an image of a glowing laptop flashed in his mind. His stomach gurgled and he threw open the truck door again to vomit.
"Easy, Thomas." Mr. Madison appeared and watched where he stepped. "Let's get you inside. When did the pain start?"
"Ten minutes ago?" Jefferson stumbled out of the truck and almost bowled Mr. Madison over.
"We've been here almost two hours, Thomas." Mr. Madison gripped his arm. "You…you smell like a bar."
Jefferson shielded his eyes against the bright, blurry lights of the hospital. He tripped over his feet and caught the back of a chair for support. He heard Mr. Madison request help and felt his heavy, numb body pushed into a wheelchair.
His chin dipped towards his chest and his vision darkened.
"There's blood on his hands," a voice said before Jefferson passed out.
Madison sat by Jefferson's bed and wondered why his friend continued to be in worse shape than himself. He'd been discharged at seven o'clock that morning but Jefferson remained out, not from the supposed migraine but because he'd been drunk, almost dangerously so. Mr. Madison searched his truck but didn't find any liquor. How he'd managed to drive remained a mystery.
"Do you want to get up today?" Madison asked his sleeping boyfriend. "I kind of want to go home. I also want answers from you."
Jefferson stirred a little and groaned.
"Morning, Thomas."
Jefferson grunted and covered his eyes. "What?"
"You got drunk," Madison said and touched Jefferson's arm. "Really, really drunk. What happened?"
Jefferson kneaded his forehead. "I don't know." He winced at the pain in his knuckles.
"You have to remember something."
"No." It hurt too much to attempt thinking.
"Your knuckles are bruised." Madison watched Jefferson's pain-scrunched face. "You punched something."
"Are you okay?" Jefferson asked in hopes of diverting attention away from himself. With some effort, he got his eyes to focus on Madison.
"Yes."
"The nightmare?" Jefferson closed his eyes against the scattered images of a window, a laptop, and…Adams?
Madison looked down at his lap. "The usual."
"It's not right." Jefferson's voice rumbled and he reached for Madison's hand.
"Thomas." Madison pulled free. "Why did you drink? Where did you disappear to for two hours?"
"I don't know." Jefferson shifted in bed and his whole body cried out with stiffness and pain.
"I hope you didn't do anything stupid." Madison sighed. "I'll let the nurse know you're awake. Hopefully, you can get discharged and not arrested." He left before Jefferson could respond.
While he waited, Jefferson examined his bruised knuckles and the cut between two of them. What had he done?
He was discharged a half hour later. He struggled to dress and discovered several scratches on his back as if he'd…climbed through a window.
No…
Mrs. Jefferson had her daughter, Marty J, drop her off at the hospital to pick up Jefferson.
"Keys," she said at once.
Jefferson handed over his truck keys and stared at the ground. "Sorry."
"You are lucky you are not in jail, young man," Mrs. Jefferson scolded left hand on her hip. "What the devil were you thinking? Drinking and driving." She swatted his backside. "You are not getting this truck back."
"Mom—"
"Don't even." She unlocked the doors and got in the driver's seat. She was a tall woman and only had to adjust the seat a little.
Jefferson buckled himself in the passenger seat. "Jemmy—"
"Don't you blame that boy for your actions," Mrs. Jefferson scolded. "You chose to drink. James did not make you."
"I don't remember drinking," Jefferson confessed.
Mrs. Jefferson glared at him. "Then you are even stupider than I thought."
"Mom—"
"Enough." Mrs. Jefferson headed for the college.
"But I need my car in case there's an emergency," Jefferson pleaded.
"Then you can start making the payments and paying the insurance." Mrs. Jefferson glared at him as she stopped at a red light. "You going to do that?"
Jefferson looked away. "No."
"Then you're not responsible enough to have a car."
"It wasn't my fault," Jefferson muttered.
"Oh, pray tell who got you alcohol, drunk it all, and drove?"
"It's because of Adams," he argued. "You know what he did to Jemmy. I wouldn't have drank otherwise. He wouldn't be having nightmares bad enough to give him seizures. I don't even remember drinking. You know this isn't like me."
"I should hope not, Thomas." Mrs. Jefferson pulled up to the college. "I'm still not giving you back the truck. You almost killed yourself in it twice in the past weeks. I'm not letting my baby boy die that way. If there is an emergency, you call me. I'll come get you no matter what time."
Jefferson nodded. "What about on the weekends? I usually see Jem."
"I bet you can figure out the bus schedule. I think you're still a smart boy."
He sighed. "Understood."
"Good. Give me a kiss and skedaddle."
Jefferson kissed his mom on the cheek and dragged himself out of the truck. He headed towards his dorm. He couldn't motivate himself for class but Washington coerced him into making the debate meeting that afternoon. Not that there was any point to it as the team hadn't won any debates. He remained silent, though, which caught Hamilton's attention.
"What happened?" Hamilton asked as they left together. "You look like hell."
"I wish I knew," Jefferson admitted.
"What're you talking about?"
Since his life couldn't get any worse, Jefferson spilled it to Hamilton. Madison's nightmare and seizure; himself leaving campus and a deep fear that he may have gone to Adams' house and threatened him. How he then ended up at the hospital two hours later and sometime in the midst gotten wasted.
"What if I did assault Adams?" Tired, terrified eyes bore into Hamilton's. "What if I get arrested?
"You might have scared him enough that he won't say anything," Hamilton said. "Assuming you did go there."
"But if he does, my fingerprints are in his room. He would know it was me." Jefferson pressed a hand against his forehead as a searing pain ran across his temples. He grunted and stopped walking, burying the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Hamilton hesitated to touch him. "Thomas?"
"Migraine," Jefferson choked out.
"I'll get you to your room." Hamilton took his arm and guided him as Jefferson struggled to walk.
In his dorm, Hamilton pulled the curtains closed while Jefferson lay down with his face in his pillow.
"I don't want to get arrested," Jefferson mumbled.
"Don't blame you," Hamilton said. He glanced around the dim room. It was bigger than the one he shared with Burr and had a sink. "I'll see you later." He backed towards the door.
"Alex, don't leave." Jefferson turned his head but couldn't see worth a damn and pressed it back against the pillow.
"Okay. Is there anything I can get you? Aspirin?"
"Tell me what I did was right." Jefferson grunted in pain and rolled himself into a ball.
"Yeah, it was, T," Hamilton said. He sat in the desk chair. "He assaulted James. Someone had to punish him. The school did shit. Washington at least got them to extend the expulsion for the rest of the year so James won't have to see him again. I would have beat him if you didn't."
The worst of the pain ebbed away for the moment and Jefferson stretched out and rolled on his back. "Thank you. But if I go to jail—"
"You won't," Hamilton assured. "But if anything happens to you, I will look after James."
Jefferson rubbed his eyes. "Don't sleep with him. I have to first."
Hamilton grinned. "Got it. You sure I can't get you anything?"
"Water." He pressed a finger into the center of his forehead. "Should be a case somewhere."
Hamilton found the stash of water bottles under the bed and handed one over.
Jefferson managed to sit and chugged half of it. He held a hand to his stomach and closed his eyes.
"Don't puke, please," Hamilton said. "You're still hungover, aren't you?"
Jefferson nodded and willed his stomach to settle.
"You're not twenty-one yet, right?" Hamilton glanced around for a garbage can in case of an emergency.
"No." Jefferson swallowed. "I turn twenty next week."
"How'd you get the alcohol? I can't imagine you have a fake ID."
"I don't know. I'm gonna puke."
Hamilton grabbed the trashcan from under the desk and shoved it at him.
Jefferson retched, splattering the can with clear fluid. When was the last time he'd eaten? He threw up a second time and set the trashcan on the floor. He accepted the tissue from Hamilton and wiped his face. He lay back on his bed. "You should consider nursing, Alex," he mused. "You're good at it."
"I think you're delusional." He stood. "I have to pee really bad but I'll come back if you want."
Jefferson glanced at him and squinted as the pain returned. "Would you?"
"No problem."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Hamilton stepped out of his dorm and froze; Burr bumped into him. "John."
Laurens gave an uncertain smile. "Hi, Alex."
"What're you doing?"
Laurens shrugged and looked at the floor. "I was wondering..." He scuffed his boot against the tile. "Maybe the three of us could go to the movies?" He glanced up, hopeful.
Hamilton continued to shield Burr behind him. "No, John."
"Please, Alex?" Laurens stepped closer. "You said we could still be friends. It's just a movie. We won't have to talk."
"It sounds like a bad idea." He elbowed Burr back as he tried to move around.
"It'll be fun," Laurens insisted. "My treat."
Burr succeeded in pushing Hamilton aside. "I don't think it'll be that bad." He looked between Hamilton and Laurens. "I'm not going to be the cause of your friendship being destroyed. We've gone to the movies together before. We can do it again."
Laurens smiled. "Thanks, Aaron. Can we go out tonight?"
Hamilton shook his head but didn't argue.
"I don't know what's even playing," Burr said.
Laurens was quick to rattle off several titles.
Burr shrugged. "What do you want to see, Alex?"
"Doesn't matter." Hamilton moved away from them. "I gotta get to class. Catch up with you later." He took off running.
Jefferson—finally sober and pain-free—watched him when he dropped, panting, into his desk. He checked his watch. "You still have five minutes. Why'd you run?"
"To get away from my problems," Hamilton admitted. He banged his head against his desk.
Jefferson grabbed his shirt collar to stop him from hurting himself further. "I'm going to regret this, but, what's wrong?"
Hamilton shrugged Jefferson's hand away. "I'm going to the movies with John and Aaron."
Jefferson chuckled. "Your life is a soap opera."
"Aaron is okay with this." Hamilton rested his head against the desk. "I don't get it. You've known John longer. Has he always been psychotic?"
"I've barely spoken to him," Jefferson said. "I know less than you. Washington would know him better but if he's never discouraged you from pursuing John, I'm guessing this is unknown behavior from him."
They glanced back as the door opened and most of the class poured in along with Washington.
"Dad," Hamilton murmured as he walked past.
Washington stopped. "Yes, Alexander?"
"I need to talk to you after class."
Washington nodded and patted Hamilton's shoulder.
Hamilton scribbled continuous notes during class to keep his mind occupied and filled four pages in his notebook before class ended.
"Good luck," Jefferson said as he left.
Hamilton walked to the front of the room and sat at Washington's desk while Washington organized his papers. "I'm going to the movies with Aaron and John tonight," he said.
Washington stopped his task and focused on his son. "Isn't that going to be awkward?"
Hamilton nodded. He picked at a chipped spot on the desk. "Aaron seemed okay with it. He doesn't think it'll be bad. I don't know what's going on with John."
"Has he ever told you about his family?" Washington asked.
"No, but I know they're homophobes."
Washington nodded. He moved closer to Hamilton and touched his head. "He's under a lot of stress. That doesn't excuse his behavior but try to give him another chance as a friend."
Hamilton didn't reply.
"Something else is bothering you." Washington stroked his hair. "Talk to me, son."
"What if I fall back in love with John?" Hamilton glanced up. "I wouldn't be able to choose. Right now, it's easy because John's being a jerk. But I did love him."
"I see." Washington dropped his hand and sat against the edge of his desk. "You have a type, I noticed. John and Aaron are pretty similar: harsh home lives, not really fitting in, no dating experience. You want to protect them."
Hamilton shrugged. "I just want an easy answer."
"Are you in love with Aaron right now?"
Hamilton returned to picking at the desk. "I think so. I told him I loved him."
"And John?"
Hamilton stayed quiet.
"You can't keep flip-flopping," Washington reminded him. "You'll end up alone. I can't give you an easy answer."
Hamilton sighed. "I know." He dragged himself up. "Guess we'll see what happens tonight."
"Think before you act, Alexander," Washington cautioned.
Hamilton nodded. He chewed his lip and asked, "Is Thomas in any trouble? Like because of…"
"Drunk driving?" Washington watched him.
Hamilton shrugged.
"Not that I'm aware of. And if there was any other incident, we're not going to speak of it."
"Understood, sir."
He hoped to have a chance to talk to Burr before they met Laurens but their schedules didn't permit an opportunity. The two waited for Hamilton outside their dormitory that evening.
"Ready?" Laurens said.
"I suppose," Hamilton replied. He glanced at Burr.
Burr smiled and took his hand. "This'll be okay," he whispered.
Hamilton nodded but couldn't meet his eyes.
At the theater, Laurens bought the tickets and they each bought their own snacks and got a large drink to share.
They found seats at the back in the highest row; Hamilton sat in the middle.
"How were your classes?" Laurens asked as the pre-previews aired.
"Eh." Hamilton stuffed popcorn in his mouth.
"Didn't you have class with Jefferson today?" Laurens continued. "How was it?"
"Okay."
"I thought you hated him?"
Burr tapped Hamilton's arm and pointed to the drink.
Hamilton handed the cup over. "He's getting better, I guess."
"Huh." Laurens opened his box of Sour Patch Kids. "Want one?"
"No, thanks." He took the drink back from Burr and sucked down a large gulp. He'd never been more grateful when the theater darkened and Laurens was forced to shut up.
He should have known there were worse things than Laurens' small talk. Hamilton leaned towards Burr and took his hand in the dark. But it wasn't long before he felt a tap on his arm from Laurens.
"Drink," he whispered.
Hamilton pulled away from Burr and handed over the cup.
Laurens took a drink and set it in his cup-holder. He rested his hand over Hamilton's.
Hamilton's heart pounded and he glanced at Burr.
Burr was absorbed in the movie, eating popcorn absentmindedly.
Hamilton leaned close to Laurens and put his lips next to his ear. "What're you trying to do?"
"Be your friend," Laurens whispered back.
"Guy friends don't hold hands."
"Then why haven't you pulled away?"
Hamilton drew his hand back but Laurens clutched it.
On his other hand, Burr tapped him. "Drink." His eyes remained on the screen.
Hamilton maneuvered one-handed. A strange flutter rose in his chest and his body grew shaky. He shook off Laurens' hand as he struggled to catch his breath. He got up and squeezed past Laurens and hurried out of the theater.
He found a restroom and locked himself in a stall.
Breathe, he told himself. Why are you freaking out? He dug his nails into the palms of his hands.
The bathroom door opened.
"Alex?"
Hamilton squeezed his eyes shut at Burr's voice. He didn't want his friend to see him falling apart for no reason.
Burr knocked on the stall door. "Are you alright? I can see your boots."
Hamilton unlocked the door. His face pale and his body trembled.
"Are you sick?" Burr touched his forehead.
"I wanna go home, Aaron," Hamilton whispered as tears gathered in his eyes.
"Okay." Burr took his hand. "The dorm or Washington's?"
"Washington." Hamilton sucked in a shaky breath.
Burr led him out of the theater while he checked bus schedules on his phone. He was adept at the system and figured out which one to take. He presumed Hamilton could call his foster parents to pick them up from the stop nearest the Estates.
He got Hamilton on the bus and wrapped an arm around him. "I didn't know you were this upset about hanging out with John," he murmured. "I thought you might have wanted to. That's why I said it was okay."
Hamilton didn't answer. If he opened his mouth he was certain vomit would come out as his stomach weakened.
Burr stroked his arm. "Can you text Washington? We'll have to walk a few miles otherwise."
Hamilton got his phone out of his back pocket and punched in the password. He handed it over to Burr.
Burr sent the message and got a reply almost at once. "He says he'll meet us there."
Hamilton squeezed his eyes shut.
As soon as they got off the bus, Hamilton threw up in the gutter.
Washington got out of his car and stood over his foster son and patted his back.
Hamilton straightened and wiped his mouth. He trembled and had a look of utter fear in his eyes.
Washington took his arm. "Let's get you home." He got Hamilton in the passenger side of his car while Burr sat in the backseat. "Deep breathes, Alex." He glanced back at Burr. "When did this start, Aaron?"
"About fifteen minutes before I texted you," Burr said. "When we were at the movies."
"With John?"
"Yeah."
Washington patted Hamilton's leg. "You should talk to James about anxiety. He might have some coping techniques you could try."
Hamilton glared at him. "I don't have anxiety." He clenched his shaking hands into fists.
Washington soon pulled into the garage and the boys followed him inside.
Mrs. Washington was in the kitchen reheating dinner. "Are you boys hungry?"
"No, thanks," Hamilton said. He turned to Washington. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt dinner."
"It wasn't a problem, son." Washington hugged him. "Go upstairs and lie down."
Hamilton looked at Burr.
"I'm kind of hungry," Burr said. "Will you be okay, Alex?"
Hamilton nodded and headed to his room.
Mrs. Washington got out another plate and silverware for Burr.
Hamilton pulled out his phone before he lay down and found several messages from Laurens.
Where did you go?
Are you coming back?
What the hell you guys?
Fuck you, Alex.
Hamilton sighed and buried his face in his pillow. It was just stress—he didn't have anxiety. This would go away and never return.
He fell asleep and woke to Burr stroking his back sometime later.
"Washington wants you to stay the night," Burr said. "I'll stay with you if you want."
Hamilton nodded as he rubbed his eyes. He nestled himself in Burr's arms and closed his eyes.
Burr held him tight and stroked his hair. "Do you still love John?"
"No." Hamilton clung to Burr's arm. "I promise, Aaron. I want to be with you."
Burr brushed his lips against Hamilton's hair. "I believe you. But I need more than—"
"I know," Hamilton interrupted. He shifted from Burr's arms and sat up to face him. "It's not something I've done before. Can we talk about it? Dating? Like what we expect?"
"Of course." Burr ran a finger down Hamilton's long nose. "But right now, I think you need a hot bubble bath and snuggles."
Hamilton smiled while rolling his eyes. "If you say so."
Burr kissed his forehead. "Do you have any bubble bath?"
"I'm not that gay. Mom probably has some."
Burr punched his shoulder. "Nothing wrong with having bubble bath." He got off the bed. "Come on, Alex."
He started the tub with hot water while Hamilton found bubble bath and added copious amounts to the water.
"Wine would be nice," Hamilton suggested as he undressed.
"No," Burr said.
"Join me."
"There's not enough room."
Hamilton finished undressing. "So we get personal." He stepped closer to Burr.
Burr pressed a hand against his chest stopping him an arms-length away. "Okay, but don't watch me undress."
Hamilton grinned. He got in the hot, bubbly water and turned his head away until Burr was half in the tub.
"How does this work?" Burr asked as they struggled to situate limbs and remain comfortable.
"I can sit on you—"
"No."
"Okay… Then we have to deal with feet in each other's junk." Hamilton moved his foot to demonstrate.
Burr stopped it with his hand and moved Hamilton's feet to the side of his leg. "How about nothing sexual and we just enjoy relaxing?"
Hamilton agreed and closed his eyes.
They soaked for a half hour as the bubbles disappeared. Mostly in silence but an occasional off-hand remark about something random or when a foot strayed where it wasn't supposed to be.
"Water's getting cold," Burr said. "Ready to get out?"
"Yeah." Hamilton held out his hands. "I'm all wrinkly."
Burr grinned. "Old man. You get out first and hand me a towel. Please?"
"I suppose." Hamilton got out and grabbed a towel from the rod and wrapped it around his waist. He handed the second one to Burr. "I'll let you dry off in peace and get my pajamas. What do you want to sleep in?"
"What are my choices?" Burr asked. "I probably won't fit in any of your sweats."
"Would one of Laf's t-shirts work?"
"Sure."
Hamilton slipped out and dressed in his room. He searched Lafayette's room and found a t-shirt that was long enough to cover Burr.
Burr took the t-shirt and slipped it on. It fell about halfway above his knees. "Awesome. Thanks, Alex."
They got in bed and snuggled close.
"Feeling better?" Burr asked and kissed the back of Hamilton's neck.
"Yeah, thank you." Hamilton pulled Burr's arms tight around him. "I love you."
Burr kissed his warm skin again. "I love you, too."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Jefferson called Madison, irritated that he couldn't just drive over and see him.
"Hey," Madison answered. "Are you coming over?"
"I need a ride," Jefferson reminded him.
"Oh, right." Madison paused fighting down the unpleasant sensation at the reminder of the attack and Jefferson's drinking. "My parents aren't home. Ambrose had a piano recital and Nelly has dance later. Um…"
"I'll call my sisters," Jefferson said. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay. Text me when you know. See you later." Madison hung up and closed his eyes. They hadn't talked about what landed Jefferson in the hospital or what he might have done. He didn't want Jefferson to get himself in trouble because of him; didn't want Jefferson to lose his path in life over his sickly, weak boyfriend.
Jefferson called Jane first but she had too much to catch up on to drive him around. Mary went to college too far away to bother asking. He called Marty J next.
"Maybe you should just stay put," scolded Marty J. She was only seventeen but didn't hesitate to put him in his place. "I'm not going to be your taxi service because you're too dumb to know not to drink and drive."
"It's not my fault," Jefferson grumbled.
"Oh, pray tell who drank the alcohol and drove then?" she said, quoting a similar line their mom had given him.
He couldn't explain how disassociated the whole evening had been. How he truly did not remember buying alcohol let alone drinking it.
"Never mind, Marty," he snapped. "I'll stay here."
"Good."
Jefferson hung up and sighed. He could take the bus but he knew none went into the Estates and he didn't want to walk five miles. He called Washington.
"Um, sir I need to ask a favor," he stammered
"You don't need to call me 'sir'," Hamilton answered.
Jefferson grumbled. "I called Washington. Why do you have his phone?"
"Because I'm at home and it rang and your name came up and I thought this would be funny."
Jefferson sighed. "Where is he?"
"Bathroom."
"Ask him if he can pick me up. I need a ride."
"Ah, because you're a dumbass," Hamilton teased.
Jefferson sputtered. "I thought you were on my side? I had to pro—"
"Calm your tits," Hamilton interrupted. "I'm just giving you crap. One of us will pick you up. Be, like, a half hour."
"Thank you." Jefferson hung up and texted Madison that he found a ride.
He kept his fingers crossed it would be Washington but wasn't the least surprised when he spotted Hamilton in the driver's seat of the Cadillac. Hamilton wasn't about to let a chance to rub his mistake in his face slide.
Jefferson got in and got out the first remark. "I didn't know you could reach the pedals to drive."
Hamilton rolled his eyes. "I'm doing you a huge favor, buddy. I could drop you off anywhere and make you walk."
"True." He texted Madison that he was leaving campus now.
"You and James going to fuck tonight?"
"You know what? I'd rather walk." Jefferson unlocked the door as Hamilton stopped at a red light.
"Oh, chill." Hamilton hit the lock button. "Sorry. I know the romance stuff is hard for you."
Jefferson narrowed his eyes. "Where'd you get that idea?"
"James." Hamilton glanced at him. He hit the gas pedal as the light turned green. "He needed someone to talk to."
"What'd he say?" Jefferson curled his toes in his boots. Not the conversation he wanted to have.
"That you seemed uncomfortable, which makes no sense since you've known James forever. I told him you might be asexual."
"No." Jefferson unlocked the car doors again.
Hamilton relocked them. "What would be the big deal? You and James could still be together."
"I don't want to talk about it." Jefferson stared out the window.
"I do, Thomas." Hamilton glanced at him. "You act like it's a death sentence. You don't feel sexual attraction; it's not a big deal. You and James are amazing together; you'll figure it out."
Jefferson didn't answer and ground his teeth as they were stopped at another light.
"I know you want to make James happy," Hamilton continued, "and James is rather sexual but it's not like—"
"Just stop, alright?" Jefferson said. "You don't know what it's like to not want what everyone else in the world seems to want. I don't understand why anyone would want to have sex. I don't get the appeal. Yeah, I'm probably ace. Can you, please, shut up?"
Hamilton bit his lip. "Yeah, sure."
They rode the rest of the way in silence and Hamilton stopped at the front gate of Montpelier. Jefferson got out and punched in the code. He stalked up the driveway, leaving Hamilton to back up and return to Mount Vernon.
Madison met him at the front door. "You look pissed."
Jefferson picked him up and kissed him. "I need to prove something to you."
"Okay…"
Jefferson carried him upstairs and set him on the bed. He studied the buttons on Madison's chambray dotted shirt and went for it.
Madison bit down on his bottom lip as Jefferson started to unbutton his shirt. His heart thudded and a flush crept up his cheeks. But his excitement turned to panic as Adams' face flashed into his mind. It was Adams' hand on the buttons of his shirt. Adams ready to push him down and…
Madison screamed and slammed his knee into Jefferson's crotch. He scrambled across the bed away from him and clung to his giant stuffed bear and muffled his cries in the soft fur.
Jefferson bent double with pain as black dots popped into his vision. He was pretty sure Madison had managed to push everything back up inside and—oh, shit, the pain got worse. He sat on the floor trying not to cry.
The bedroom door opened and Frank, the second oldest, came in. "Jem? I heard you scream." He hurried over to the bed. "What happened?" He glanced at Jefferson doubled over on the floor. "Did you have a flashback?"
Madison nodded. He continued to cling to the bear. "Is Thomas okay?"
"No, not really, but don't worry about him." Frank patted Madison's back. "Want some ice cream?"
Madison wiped his nose with his sleeve. "Yeah." He followed his brother without a glance at Jefferson.
It took Jefferson fifteen minutes before he could stand. It would hurt to pee for the next three days. Wincing, he limped downstairs and found the brothers in the kitchen eating ice cream out of the carton.
"So, I a hundred percent deserved that," Jefferson said in a strained voice. "I could really use some ice."
Frank grabbed a bag of peas out of the freezer and threw it at him.
Jefferson stuck it between his legs with a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, Jem, that was stupid of me. I should have known—"
"I need a break," Madison interrupted. "You need to figure out what you want and I need to heal. I need some time away from you."
Jefferson let the bag of peas fall to the floor. "James…" He couldn't breathe. This was worse than finding out Madison had a seizure, worse than him being attacked. "Jemmy…" His throat closed up and his lips and arms went numb. This was the heart attack that was going to kill him.
Madison picked up the carton of ice cream and left the room.
"You might want to call someone to pick you up," Frank said and followed his brother.
Jefferson closed his eyes. No, this couldn't be real.
Madison stopped in the hallway not far from the kitchen as tears blurred his eyes.
"Don't get tears in the ice cream," Frank said and grabbed the container. "I don't know what you ever saw in Thomas anyway. He's got a stick up his ass."
"Don't," Madison whimpered. He pressed his hands against his eyes. "I love him. I just—I don't understand him right now. I need space."
"Nah, I get it." Frank dug his spoon in the ice cream. "This'll be good for you. You can see other people."
"No." Madison pushed his brother. "You've never understood me."
Frank rolled his eyes. "It's hard to understand you, Jem, when you can't make up your mind if you want to wear boys or girls clothes. Thomas is dodging a bullet."
Madison shoved his brother again. "I hate you."
"Mutual. You're the only one who gets attention in this family." Frank stalked off upstairs with the ice cream.
Go after him, Madison told himself. Go back to Thomas. He sucked in a shaky breath and headed upstairs.
In the kitchen, Jefferson called Washington—not saying a word this time until he heard Washington speak.
"Yes, Thomas?" Washington said.
"Come get me." Jefferson pressed a hand against his mouth and struggled not to vomit.
"What happened?"
"Just come get me."
"I'll be there in five minutes."
By the time Jefferson limped his way down the long driveway, Washington pulled in front of the gate. Jefferson got in the passenger seat.
"So…" Washington murmured as he backed up.
"We broke up." Jefferson turned away as tears spilled down his cheeks.
Washington squeezed his arm and let him grieve in silence.
Hamilton helped Mrs. Washington bake brownies and cookies on Sunday to take back to campus to share with Burr.
Washington dropped him off and Hamilton raced to his dorm. He and Burr had had a long chat on the phone last night. To him, it sounded like Burr was almost ready and he was certain a pile of goodies would entice him over the last hump. He still remembered the regret in Burr's voice when he had to hang up to take another call.
Hamilton unlocked the dorm and frowned at the echo and darkness as he pushed the door open. "Aaron?" He flipped on the light.
Burr's side of the room was empty.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Bed stripped, desk bare, rug gone.
Hamilton set his things down. His heart pounded and heat flooded his body yet he trembled. He spotted a note on his pillow.
Family emergency. Went home. Don't know if I'll return this semester.
Hamilton pocketed the note and pulled out his phone. His fingers shook as he called Burr but it went straight to voicemail. He sent a text but the message never showed delivered.
He chewed on his thumbnail, confused, lost as he stared at the empty side of the room. He had expected an evening of devouring cookies and brownies. An evening with his friend. An evening that had a good chance of leading to sex and him asking Burr to be his boyfriend.
Now, he was alone. Abandoned.
He left his dorm, headed upstairs, and knocked on Laurens' door.
Lee answered it. "Oh, hey, Alex."
"John here?" Hamilton asked biting on his nails.
"Yeah." Lee pushed the door open further. The room was dimly lit as they had been watching movies on their laptops.
Laurens paused his movie and sat up. "What do you want, Alex?" he snapped. "I thought you didn't want me around? You made that pretty clear when you guys abandoned me at the movies."
Hamilton closed the door behind him and mumbled, "Aaron's gone."
"Huh?" Laurens frowned. "What? I'm your second choice. Is that what this is? Can't fuck Aaron so here you come a-runnin'."
"John, please." Hamilton shivered. "I'm worried about him. Look." He pulled the note out of his pocket. "His phone's off."
Lauren grumbled and turned on his light and read the note. "I'm sure he's fine. Maybe a grandparent died or something."
"I think they're all dead already." Hamilton folded the note back up and stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth. "What if his uncle died? What would he and his sister do?"
"Jeez, you're being a sissy," Laurens said. "He'll probably call you tomorrow and explain."
Hamilton didn't reply. It was the suddenness, the expectation to return to a familiar routine and have it blown apart. The taking for granted that Burr would always be there when he returned. The thought that they were more than friends.
"Shit, Ham, you're, like, about to cry." Laurens touched his shoulder, his demeanor softening. "I've barely started the movie. Watch with me."
Hamilton nodded and got on the bed with him. Laurens handed him an earbud. They sat close to each other, laptop between them.
When the movie ended two hours later, Hamilton didn't move. "Can I stay with you tonight, Jack?" he asked in a low murmur. "You can say no. I know—"
Laurens ran a hand through Hamilton's hair. "Of course."
Lee didn't protest and left to use the bathroom and get ready for bed.
Laurens watched Hamilton as he undressed. He opened his mouth to ask again why Hamilton was so upset, but let it go. He'd wanted Hamilton back in his bed for months and didn't want to risk sending him away.
Hamilton took the side near the wall and buried his face in Laurens' chest.
Laurens rubbed his back and kissed his hair. He tried to initiate something further but Hamilton only wanted to snuggle. Laurens held him tight.
Hamilton was early for Washington's class the next morning since he knew the teacher would be in the classroom setting up the smartboard, which he'd yet to master. He shoved the crumpled note from Burr at him. "Do you know what happened?"
Washington slipped on his reading glasses and read the note. "No, I haven't heard any details, Alex." He handed back the paper. "I only received an email this morning from Aaron asking if he could continue his classes online so he wouldn't have to drop out."
Hamilton bit down on his thumbnail. "Did his uncle die? Is Aaron sick?"
Washington moved around his desk and rested his hands on Hamilton's shoulder. "I don't know, son. We'll find out, okay?"
"I tried calling him again this morning." Hamilton gnawed on his nail until Washington pushed his hand away. "Voicemail. I want to be there for him if something bad happened. He shouldn't think he has to be alone. Doesn't he know I'm his friend?"
"Everyone grieves in different ways," Washington soothed. "I'm sure Aaron will turn his phone on in a few days and you can tell him that. I'll ask around and see if he's emailed any other professors."
Hamilton nodded.
Students began to arrive and Hamilton took his seat. He remained quiet through class and was content to let Jefferson have the glory of answering everything correctly, but his nemesis remained equally silent and sullen.
No one could give Washington any more information on why Burr left. A family emergency was what everyone said. Since it was late in the semester, the professors accommodated his requests to finish assignments off-campus.
Hamilton continued to call Burr's number with no response.
Hamilton and Jefferson took their usual seats on Wednesday, ignored each other, ignored everyone else. When Washington asked a question, neither answered and the whole class looked at each other in confusion.
"Nobody?" Washington asked.
One girl cautiously raised her hand.
Washington called on her but his attention was on his quiet boys. He stopped them from leaving when class ended. He dragged a chair over between their desks. "I know you're both hurting," he said. "But the semester is almost over. Don't throw away all your hard work. The pain will pass, I promise, but the time and energy you have right now for your education won't."
"Yeah, sure," Jefferson said in a dead tone. He stuffed his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. He had pulled his curly hair back in a ponytail rather than attempt to tame it nor had he shaved. His sweatpants had a rumpled look as if he'd slept in them.
"Have you talked to James?" Washington asked.
"Few texts. Won't take my calls." He folded himself over.
"Do you know for sure what's bothering him?"
"I'm broken."
"It's your drinking," Hamilton spoke up. "He doesn't care if your ace, dude. You making the assault more about you than him is the problem. You're being selfish."
Jefferson straightened and glared at him. "No one asked you."
"Alexander might be right, though," Washington said. "Have you apologized to James?"
"For what?" Jefferson's eyes narrowed. "For defending him? For being upset that I couldn't protect him?"
"Have you talked to him at all about the assault?" Washington questioned.
Jefferson shrugged.
"And how do you think that makes him feel? You're his best friend, Thomas."
"He's worried you think he's tainted," Hamilton spoke up again. "He's afraid to talk to you about it because of how extreme you reacted."
"I reacted because I care about him more than anyone," Jefferson snapped. "Jem knows that."
"But you're not being there for what he needs."
Jefferson folded himself up again. "Everything hurts," he mumbled. "I just want to sleep."
"Same," Hamilton said.
"But you both managed to come to class," Washington praised. "We'll get through this. Thomas, text an apology to James and stop drinking."
Jefferson nodded.
"Alexander, we'll find Aaron, just have a little patience."
Hamilton sucked in a shaky breath. He opened his mouth but closed it without speaking.
"I'll let you leave now," Washington said.
Jefferson stood at once and left. Hamilton lingered in his chair.
"My next class will be here soon, son," Washington said. He stood and put his chair back. "You need to get to history."
"If he doesn't come back..." Hamilton whispered. Tears spilled out and splashed onto his jeans.
Washington found a box of tissues and gave it to him. "It's only been a few days, Alex. Aaron needs time to deal with whatever happened. You'll hear from him soon."
The sobs broke free in whistling breaths.
Washington pulled him close, Hamilton's head against his stomach. He glanced at the clock above the door: ten minutes until his next class started.
"Going to class will get your mind off this," he murmured. "I'll walk you there."
"Can I go home?" Hamilton choked out. "I don't feel good." He moved his head to the side to breathe and a shudder ran through his body.
"I don't want you driving upset," Washington said. "You'll need to stay."
"Can't Mom pick me up?"
"She doesn't like driving the van, love." Washington grabbed a tissue and dabbed Hamilton's cheeks. "You'll be okay."
Hamilton shook his head.
Washington could hear footsteps in the hall signaling classes getting out and his about to start. "Go stay in my office."
Hamilton nodded and dragged himself up.
Washington handed him the key and hugged him. "I love you. I'll take you home as soon as I can."
Hamilton tightened his grip on him, but Washington eased him away.
Hamilton dried his eyes and left, shoving through the crowded halls to Washington's office at the far end of the building. Alone, he went through his usual routine of calling and texting Burr, then checking any social media Burr used in hopes of an update, even a nonsense meme just to know he was alive. Nothing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Jefferson looked up from his homework to find a text from his mom.
Come home for dinner on Sunday. Jane will pick you up.
He ground his teeth but sent an 'okay'. Not like he had a choice anyway. He was just waiting for his mom to take away his dorm, too. He opened another beer and chugged. While he still didn't know how he'd gotten the alcohol the night Madison seized, his roommate—who was twenty-one—was more than happy to buy him whatever if Jefferson paid for it and gave him some extra cash.
Sunday afternoon, he waited for his eldest sister to pick him up in her red Jeep. He stood on the curb, hands in his pockets, nursing another hangover.
Jane pulled up to him and parked her Jeep.
Jefferson got inside and buckled himself. They didn't speak until Jane pulled into Monticello and Jefferson spotted Washington's Cadillac in the driveway. "What's going on, Jane?"
"Mom got a letter," Jane replied without looking at him. She turned off the Jeep and got out.
Jefferson dragged himself after her.
Marty J and the twins were in the kitchen making cookies.
"Mom wants to see you in the study," Marty J informed her older brother.
Jefferson swallowed and headed across the house. He was glad of his hangover now to numb some of his emotions. He opened the study door and found his mom and Washington at the large desk.
Washington stood. "Sit down, Thomas."
Jefferson sat and his mom pushed a letter towards him.
"What happened, Thomas?" Mrs. Jefferson demanded.
Jefferson's vision blurred but his eyes picked up enough keywords to get the gist of the letter: fingerprints, Jonathan Adams, assault.
"I don't know," Jefferson whispered as his throat tightened. "Honest."
"You were at Jonathan Adams' house though," Washington said. "You have motive for hurting him and your fingerprints on his laptop and window put you there. No one can vouch for you during those two hours before Mr. Madison called you again."
Jefferson trembled and buried his face in his hands. "Mom—" He struggled to swallow. "He's the one who needs to be in jail."
"We agree," Mrs. Jefferson said. "But if you want this to go away, then you have to realize Adams' father has the same pull to protect his child. The Madison's were satisfied with Adams' expulsion for the rest of the year. You need to let this go, too."
Jefferson shook his head.
"I'm only going to protect you once, Thomas." Mrs. Jefferson watched her son with stony eyes. "If this is the path you want to do down—drinking, assault—then you will go down it alone."
"I don't," Jefferson whispered. "But..." He wiped his eyes. "What's the point if I don't have Jem?"
Washington and Mrs. Jefferson looked at each other.
"You can't bank your happiness on one person," Mrs. Jefferson said. "When your father died, do you think I was going to let our children suffer because I thought my life was over? You'll get through this. It's a break, Thomas, not a break-up."
Jefferson nodded.
Washington's phone rang breaking the stillness. "Yes, dear?" he answered and promptly sighed. "Yes, I'll be home in a few minutes." He hung up and looked at Mrs. Jefferson. "Alexander is having another crisis. I can come back."
"I think we have it figured out," Mrs. Jefferson said. "Thank you for your help, George."
"Anytime." Washington moved behind Jefferson's chair and rested his hands on the young man's shoulders. "Don't throw away your life on this, Thomas. You have amazing potential."
Jefferson nodded. "Yes, sir."
Washington closed the door behind him.
Mrs. Jefferson stood and handed Jefferson another piece of paper. "This is the best George and I could come up with."
Jefferson took the paper and struggled to comprehend. He knew enough law jargon but his brain was too fuzzy to put it together. "What—"
"It'll keep you from getting arrested," Mrs. Jefferson said. "Keep your record clean. You know I don't like using my position for this type of thing but I know it's what your father would have done. I won't protect you again, Thomas."
Jefferson bowed his head. Like his mom, Adams' parents were both high up in the political food chain. Neither he nor Adams deserved the protection their status gave them, but if Adams was going to use it, then Jefferson—who did nothing wrong, in his mind—would as well.
"Thank you, Mom," he mumbled. "I won't let you down again."
"I plan to make sure of that." She touched his shoulder. "You'll clear out your dorm this evening. George will drive you to school when he leaves at six-thirty and he'll bring you home around five."
Jefferson's posture collapsed, though he had expected it. He didn't protest. "Yes, ma'am."
"Your siblings should be getting dinner ready. Go help them."
"Yes, ma'am," he repeated and dragged himself up.
The twins took turns mashing potatoes while Marty J cut up a roasted chicken.
Jane finished setting the table and took Jefferson's arm. She led him into the adjacent formal dining room. "So, Mom's going to save your ass?"
Jefferson nodded.
"You going to stop drinking?"
Jefferson nodded again. If he spoke, he was certain tears would fall.
"I'll help you pack up your dorm after dinner." She patted his chest. "I hope James is worth it."
"He is," he whispered. "What happened—" his voice cracked and he closed his eyes briefly. "I did the right thing. I know Jem didn't ask for a break because of that. I'll get my shit together and everything will be okay."
"I hope so, T." She hugged him. "We all love James."
Hamilton clung to Laurens, and despite his reserves that Hamilton was using him because Burr was gone Laurens obliged him.
"You have to try out for wrestling in the fall," Laurens said as they sat in his dorm. "You chickened out on me earlier."
"Sure," Hamilton said and didn't remind him that the reason had been because of another falling out. "Are you any good?"
Laurens chuckled. "No. But you know… I need the credit."
"And you get to touch guys," Hamilton finished.
Laurens smirked. "Always a bonus." He lay back on his bed and rubbed his bare foot against Hamilton's leg. "Are you staying in here tonight?"
"I dunno yet," Hamilton said. He couldn't stand to be alone. The easier thing to do would be to ask Laurens to change dorms and room with him, but he had hope that Burr would return. He wanted to make sure the bed remained available to him when he did. He'd spent most of the past week in Laurens' bed.
"I don't mind," Laurens said and nudged his foot in between Hamilton's legs, "but I want something in return eventually. Burr's out of the picture, so…"
Hamilton's indigo eyes shot fire. "He's coming back, John." The words he was going to be my boyfriend fell away, choking him before he said them.
Laurens rolled his eyes. "Of course, Hammy. Did you fuck him?"
"I'm not having this conversation." Hamilton got off the bed and returned to his room downstairs.
But the room was cold, empty, a reminder of what he let slip away.
At eleven o'clock that night, he revisited. The door was unlocked and he slipped in and climbed on Laurens' bed.
Laurens kissed him. "You always come back," he murmured. He untied the drawstring of Hamilton's pajama pants. "Charles sleeps like a rock." He sucked on Hamilton's neck.
Hamilton exhaled and undressed once he realized Laurens was already naked. "Condom?"
Laurens pulled one out from under his pillow.
Hamilton bit back another sigh and positioned himself underneath Laurens. He just wanted Burr, just wanted to know he was okay. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks as Laurens thrust against him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Hamilton called Burr every day but couldn't bear the pain of leaving a message. Each call went straight to voicemail. He continued to stalk Facebook for any new posts. For any post from anyone that might know Burr and his situation. He didn't know Burr's uncle or sister's name and cussed himself for being such a lousy friend and not knowing the most basic details. No wonder Burr left without an explanation.
Washington stopped him after class two weeks later. "Just a minute, Alexander."
Hamilton remained seated.
"You didn't come home last Sunday," Washington said. He pulled a chair over. "I know you're hurting because of Aaron. Don't pull away from your family, too. We can help you heal."
"What if he's sick?" Hamilton asked as his eyes shimmered. "What if he has cancer? What if I never see him again?"
Washington stroked his hair. "We'll figure this out, son."
"Do you know his uncle's name?" Hamilton wiped at his eyes.
"Timothy Edwards," Washington said. "I've been searching, too. I haven't seen any accident reports or obituaries with his name. Nor for his sister Sadie."
"Then why did he leave?" He chewed on his already gnawed-down thumbnail. "He was doing okay in school, wasn't he? He didn't seem stressed." His shoulders dropped. "It's because of me. I came on too strong. I put too much pressure on him."
"No, Alexander." Washington took his hand. "This is not your fault. Do not blame yourself."
"Then who?" A tear spilled down his cheek. "I'm the common ground of all the people who have left me. All those foster families wouldn't have abandoned me if I wasn't a problem."
Washington had hoped one day that his heart would stop breaking for this boy. Today was not that day. "Son, your fate has never been your fault." He wiped Hamilton's cheek with his thumb. "Let's go home."
"I have to get a few things from my room," Hamilton said with a sniffle.
"Meet me outside," Washington said. "I have to send an email to cancel my last class."
Hamilton dragged his feet back to his dorm. His heart quickened as he approached the door. Maybe this time…
The hollow echo answered as usual.
Hamilton grabbed his laptop, some books he needed to finish a few assignments, and the bear Burr had given him. He threw on a jacket and headed out to Washington's Cadillac.
"Where're you going?" Laurens called out as Hamilton crossed the campus.
"Home," Hamilton said.
Laurens caught up to him. He yanked the bear out of Hamilton's arms. "Why?"
"Give that back," Hamilton snapped.
"Oh, is this from your beloved Aaron?" Laurens held it above his head out of Hamilton's reach.
"John, come on!" Hamilton struggled to reach it without success. And it was about to get worse, he realized upon seeing Jefferson coming their way.
Jefferson plucked the bear easily out of Laurens' hands. "What're you doing?"
"Fuck off, Jefferson," Laurens snarled. "Give that back."
Jefferson handed the stuffed animal to Hamilton. "You're being a bully, John," he said. "I've seen the way you've been treating Alexander. Knock it off."
"Oh, fuck you, man." Laurens shoved at Jefferson. "Go fuck your little pint-sized boyfriend."
Jefferson pushed Laurens back and almost knocked him over. "I'm a known tattletale, John. Lay off Alexander or I'll let Washington know."
Laurens sneered at Jefferson but shot Hamilton a smile. "See you Monday."
Hamilton looked away and headed for the Cadillac.
"You alright, Alexander?" Jefferson called out.
Hamilton broke into a run without answering.
Washington was out of ways to tell Hamilton this wasn't his fault when he saw his boy's tear-streaked face. He could only take him home, feed him junk food, and hold him close. He could only hope and pray that time would heal the hole Burr had left.
Madison lay on his bed cuddling his stuffed unicorn-alpaca. He told his mom he was sick and stayed home from school. His phone rang and he groaned when he saw Jefferson's name pop up. He buried his face in his stuffed animal. Thirty seconds after the phone stopped ringing, it dinged with a text. Madison ignored that, too, and almost screamed in frustration when his phone rang again.
But this time Alexander came up on the screen. Madison reached for his phone. "Hello?"
"Hey, James," Hamilton said. "Just wanted to see how you were doing."
"Tired." Madison reached for his baby blanket and tucked it under his chin, the stuffed animal against his chest.
"Same. Are you home?"
"Uh huh."
"May I come over?"
"I'm not very good company right now," Madison mumbled. He wiped at the gathering tears.
"Me either. We don't have to talk."
"Okay."
"I'll be over in a few."
Madison said goodbye, rolled himself into a ball of hurt and cried into his comfort items.
Hamilton came up about fifteen minutes later. Seeing Madison in tears made his eyes well up and he pressed a hand against his quivering lips.
Madison patted the bed and Hamilton joined him. They snuggled under the covers, crying, and holding each other.
Jefferson sighed as his call went to voicemail again. Madison answered a few of his texts but refused to talk to him otherwise. He'd apologized about fifty times, Jefferson was certain—for drinking, for losing his car, for hassling Madison for his own insecure purposes—but none of it seemed to matter. Madison had patiently waited for two years and now it was for naught. Jefferson wasn't the man he wanted. Despite knowing it was the worst thing to do and would only keep Madison away, Jefferson continued drinking.
It was more difficult now without a roommate to buy him beer and having Washington carpool him around, but not impossible. Nor was the lock on the liquor cabinet at home a deterrent.
But as a known straight-A student who always turned in assignments on time or early, a few slips caught Washington's attention.
"Stay after class," Washington told Jefferson as he walked by his desk one morning. His own sleepless nights didn't matter if another of his boys was hurting.
Jefferson remained behind.
"Yes, I've been drinking," he said at once. "I hurt Jem and I can't forgive myself until he forgives me."
Washington sighed. "Have you done any soul-searching?"
Jefferson shrugged. "I just have low libido." He scratched his neck.
"You need to talk to James," Washington said.
"He won't answer my calls." Jefferson watched his mentor, a dead look in his eyes. "I don't have a car to visit him."
"I can drive you."
Jefferson shook his head. "I want to be alone."
"So you can drink?" Washington glared at him. "This isn't you, Thomas. I know Jem being attacked hurt you because you couldn't protect him. But it wasn't your fault. Jem has never blamed you. Nor could you have known he'd react how he did when you tried to unbutton his shirt. I doubt Jem could have told you that would be a trigger. Both of you—but especially you, Thomas—need to buck up a little and discuss this together."
Jefferson scratched at his arms. "I broke a bunch of laws, sir. I probably shouldn't be around James."
"We dealt with that." Washington touched Jefferson's chin and forced him to look up. "Tell James what you remember about the night your drinking started. Tell him how much you hurt when he's hurting. Promise him you'll stop drinking."
Jefferson couldn't maintain eye contact. "I can't." He pushed Washington's hand away. "What if he disagrees?" He squeezed his eyes shut. "What if I lose him forever?"
"You won't know un—"
"I'm not normal," Jefferson continued. "I don't want to sleep with him. Alexander is right, I'm asexual and I don't know what to do about it. I need to be there for Jemmy; I want to be there for him, but I can't. I don't understand the things he needs."
"You will if you talk to him," Washington insisted. "Being asexual isn't anything to be ashamed of. There is nothing wrong with you, Thomas. Everyone has different needs and likes and dislikes. Don't let this destroy you."
"I'm not ready," Jefferson mumbled.
"I understand." Washington kissed his forehead. "You still have my love and respect, son. I will always stand up for you."
Jefferson closed his eyes against the flood of tears. "I'm asexual," he whispered.
"And I still love you. James will tell you the same thing." Washington stood and touched Jefferson's tangled curls. "Whenever you're ready to talk to James, I will drive you over."
"Thank you."
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
For the first time in almost a year, Hamilton awoke screaming with nightmares.
Washington hurried to his room and flipped on the light.
Hamilton was on the floor, tangled in his blankets, tears streaming down his face.
Washington untangled him and picked him off the floor. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Hamilton shook his head and gripped at the buttons on Washington's pajama top. "Aaron was dead," he said anyway. "There was a hurricane. We were in my old house. The roof blew away and water came in. A wave took Aaron away. I couldn't save him."
Washington cradled him.
"What if he's dead?" Hamilton managed somehow to make himself into a ball.
"Shh."
"Dad—"
"Alex, he's not dead." He moved Hamilton off his lap and tucked him in bed. "Get some sleep."
"I can't." Hamilton pushed the blankets back. "I don't want to be alone."
Washington sighed. Was this the time to try to teach Hamilton to cope with his nightmares alone when he already thought he was abandoned? He sighed again. "Alright." He turned off the light and got in bed.
The next morning, sleep deprived and sore without his memory-foam mattress, Washington dragged Hamilton out the door to pick up Jefferson and drive to campus.
The boys bickered and complained the whole way, taking their hurt and losses out on each other.
Washington turned up the radio.
Laurens waited in the cafeteria on Monday and snagged Hamilton's hand as he passed through the door. "I think we should go out for dinner tonight," he said. "My treat."
Hamilton nodded, half-asleep from his nightmares last night.
They got in line for lunch and Laurens filled Hamilton's plate for him. They sat in a booth instead of the usual long, crowded table.
"I know this great Italian restaurant," Laurens continued. "I know Mrs. Washington makes the best lasagna but I'm sure it'll be good."
Hamilton picked at his baked potato and let Laurens ramble without interference. Other than finishing two projects, he had spent most of the weekend asleep and wished more than anything to be back in bed. But Washington promised they would drive across the city on Wednesday to the address Burr had given on his college application.
During dinner, Hamilton continued his silence until Laurens snapped at him.
"I'm paying for your dinner, the least you could do is talk to me." Laurens squeezed Hamilton's hand. "You don't have to sleep with me tonight if you don't want to. I respect you, Alex."
Hamilton gave a quick smile.
On Wednesday, Hamilton waited outside Washington's office after class, fidgeting from foot to foot. He should have gone to Burr's house the day after he left but Washington wouldn't give him the address saying they needed to respect Burr's privacy. But enough time had passed with zero response from Burr that Washington had changed his mind.
Washington locked his office behind him. "Ready?"
Hamilton bobbed his head.
Washington handed him a piece of paper with the address and Hamilton put it into his phone. It wasn't in a good part of town, worse than Hamilton had imagined. He'd spent a lot of time in sordid downtown but this area was even seedier.
With rush hour traffic, it took forever to arrive and then they were hit with the disappointment that the address Burr had given was for an abandoned apartment building.
Hamilton smashed his hands on the dashboard. "Is he not a good person?" he demanded. "Is that why he left?" Hamilton smacked his hands again. "Fuck! Why do people either leave me or are two-faced shitheads?"
Washington pursed his lips. He could hardly reassure Hamilton that Burr was a good person since he knew him even less. "That's not true," he said lamely instead. "We'll figure this out, Alex." But he hesitated to leave the car unattended and look around or let Hamilton go off by himself. His pricey Cadillac already drew attention by folk walking the streets. He pulled away from the curb and they circled a few block radius.
"Just forget about it," Hamilton grouched after a few minutes. "I don't care anymore. Fuck Aaron."
Washington held back a sigh and headed back towards the interstate. "Do you want to stay home tonight?"
"No." Hamilton stared out the window. "I want to be with John. He loves me."
"Alexander…"
"If you loved me you would find Aaron," Hamilton snapped. "This is your fault. You suck as a teacher."
"Mind your tongue," Washington warned.
"No." Hamilton kicked his feet against the car. "I hate you. You never do anything for me."
It took all his control not to slam on the brakes and knock some sense into his boy. "Well, I tried my best for you."
"Fuck you."
Washington dropped Hamilton off at campus and had a strong urge to stop at the liquor store on the way home.
Hamilton texted Laurens and ran towards the dormitory. Laurens met him downstairs and Hamilton wrapped him in a hug and kissed him. "I'm sorry I've been moody towards you," he said. "I promise I'll be more attentive. You're more important to me."
Laurens smiled. "Good." He took Hamilton's hand and led him upstairs.
"I expected this behavior when were first took him in," Washington bemoaned to his wife. "But now? It hurts a lot more, dear."
"I know, George." Mrs. Washington massaged his shoulders. "He's upset. He'll come around."
"What if we lose both of them, Martha?" Washington picked up his wine glass. "Lafayette has been with us the longest out of all our fosters. We barely hear from the other boys. And Alexander… He's special, Martha."
"I know, George," Mrs. Washington repeated. "He's at a hard age. Becoming an adult isn't easy anymore. Perhaps we coddle him too much."
"No." Washington sipped his wine. "Alex needs to be protected. And I know you'll agree that he has a lot more growing up to do than Laf. All that trauma has stunted his maturity. He's still very impulsive. Honestly, we should have kept him home for the first year of college. That would have prevented all this at least."
"Aaron will come back," insisted Mrs. Washington. "He and Alex had a strong bond—I know you would rather Alex have that and this pain than not at all."
Washington shook his head. "And when Aaron comes back? Alex might not be able to forgive him. He's going to be hurt all over again every time he sees his friend. I have to know what happened."
"George, don't." Mrs. Washington let go of his shoulders and sat down next to him. "I know Alex has stolen your heart and has currently crushed it into a thousand pieces, but you have to respect Aaron's privacy. Whatever happened he needed to deal with it on his own. He knows Alex cares about him. He knows he can trust us. He would have brought us in on his pain if he could." She rested her hand on her husband's. "We have to trust him."
Washington ground his teeth. "I hate that you're right. I hate when I can't make things better."
Mrs. Washington couldn't help but chuckle. "Now I see why Alex is so special to you. You two are very similar." She kissed her husband's cheek. "You'll see him tomorrow and he'll apologize. Come to bed, dear."
Even though his first class of the day was English, Hamilton poked his head into the law classroom instead. "Dad?"
Washington glanced up from his iPad. "Yes, Alexander?"
Hamilton closed the door behind him and dragged himself to the front of the room. "I'm sorry. I was a shithead last night."
"Yes, you were." Washington took off his reading glasses. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yes." Hamilton swallowed. "I'm at, like, my hundredth chance. Do you sill forgive that many?"
Washington's face softened. "I do, son." He patted Hamilton's cheek. "I want you to start coming home on Friday night and staying the weekend until the semester is over, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
Washington kissed his head and studied him. "Are you okay with what's going on with you and John? Thomas had some concerns."
"Thomas needs to butt out," Hamilton grumbled. "John and I are fine."
"I'll admit I'm a little worried to—"
"Please, stay out of this, Dad." Tears shimmered in Hamilton's indigo eyes. "I want Aaron more than anything. I just—I need someone."
"He's taking advantage of that, Alexander." Washington handed him a tissue. "I can talk to him."
"Don't." Hamilton wiped his eyes. "Let me handle this."
"Alexander…" Washington sighed and pulled Hamilton close to him. "I love you more than you know. If anything happens, come to me and I'll fix it."
Hamilton nodded and clung to him.
CHAPTER FORTY
His phone rang but by the time Hamilton looked at it a second later, it stopped and the screen went dark. Wrong number, he figured and returned to his homework. Finals were upon him and he'd fallen behind. The screen lit up again Missed call: Aaron Burr.
Hamilton snatched his phone as a wave of heat ran through his body. His fingers trembled as he punched in his password and hit redial.
"Please, please, please."
"The number you have reached is unavailable."
Hamilton threw his phone across the room. It hit the wall with a thunk, landed on his dresser and knocked off a pile of rolled-up socks.
He scrambled off his bed and began throwing the socks, hitting anything he could as rage boiled over. Out of ammunition, defeated, he headed downstairs, feet dragging across the wood floors.
"What fell?" Washington asked when Hamilton appeared in the family room. "I heard a lot of noise."
"I threw my phone," Hamilton said. He stood, shoulders drooped, head down in front of Washington's recliner. "It was Aaron. He called but hung up after half a second. May I sit with you?"
"Of course." He pushed the footrest down and let his foster son sit on his lap. He held Hamilton with one hand, the other scrolling on his iPad as he set it on the armrest of his chair. "He'll call, Alex."
Hamilton remained silent and caught a word here and there, as he watched Washington's iPad through blurring eyes.
A moment late, the sobs shook his body and Washington set aside his iPad to hold him tight. "It'll be okay, Alex," he soothed. "Let it out. I know you're hurting."
"Why—" Hamilton gasped. "Couldn't he tell me?" He sucked in half a breath and a broken wail escaped.
Washington cradled him close as tears soaked his shirt.
Hamilton turned his head to the side and took in a shuddering breath. "I thought—" His voice cracked. "Why..."
"I know, my boy." Washington stroked his hair. He sighed to himself and wished he could heal the pain, mend the hurt. Wished he could give his boy answers to why Burr left without a word and why he refused to contact them. Somewhere that boy was hurting even more than Hamilton was. Moisture gathered in his eyes and he dabbed his face against the shoulder of Hamilton's shirt. He couldn't save John; he couldn't save Aaron. How many more boys was he going to fail? The number he had protected and loved didn't seem to matter against the failures.
Hamilton's cries quieted and he whispered, "I thought I might have loved him more than John."
"I know, son."
Hamilton wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I thought he loved me back."
Washington squeezed him tight.
"Why?" Tears spilled free again.
"Shh." Washington nudged Hamilton's head back against his chest.
"I need him, Daddy." Hamilton pressed his face tight and muffled the gasping sobs.
Washington rubbed his back.
Eventually, the cries stopped and Washington realized Hamilton had worn himself to sleep. The poor boy hadn't slept much in a while, he knew. His body ached from holding him that long but he didn't dare move.
The family room door opened and he heard the dogs run through.
"George?" Mrs. Washington murmured.
"He's asleep," Washington replied.
She let the dogs outside and sat on the couch near her husband. "Any ideas about Aaron?" she said in a quiet voice.
Washington shook his head. "Help me get him on the couch."
Hamilton clung to Washington, whimpering as his foster father struggled to stand.
With careful slowness, they got Hamilton settled on the couch without waking him. Mrs. Washington covered him with a blanket. She took her husband's hand and led him outside.
The dogs ran over and jumped on the couple. Mrs. Washington picked up Potato as she snarled at Washington.
"I know it's hard for him to understand without any closure," she said. "He's had enough people leave him."
"I know," Washington said. He moved towards the picnic table and sat. "But if we find Aaron, what happens if he rejects Alex? Maybe he left because he couldn't handle the relationship."
"But at least Alex would have a resolution," Mrs. Washington argued. "He's not going to heal from this, George."
"But it might not be a relationship issue," Washington continued. "The note said 'family emergency' and that could be true. We don't know much about Aaron's home life. He's very cautious of letting anyone near where he lives. I'm worried he's in danger, Martha. I need to find him."
"I know, dear." Mrs. Washington sat next to him.
Hamilton woke drained and confused. His stuffy nose clouded his head and his body ached. It felt more like the flu than heartbreak. A warm weight lay across his ankles and he didn't dare move once he realized it was Potato.
The fat dog's twiggy tail wagged as she saw Hamilton awake and she crawled up his body.
"Don't be all bipolar on me, dog," murmured Hamilton his throat dry and raspy.
Potato crawled closer to his face and licked his nose.
Hamilton didn't dare touch her for fear of losing his face. But her breath was rather strong. "You need a mint, dog." He sat up slowly and eased Potato away from his face. She licked his hand.
"Alright, good girl, Potato." He stroked the small head and too-big ears. "Good girl."
Potato barked and stuck her butt in the air.
A faint smile tugged at Hamilton's lips. "Yeah? You like that?" He let his voice get silly and baby-talked. "You's a good girl, Tato! Good girl!"
She scampered around his legs, barking and bowing.
Mrs. Washington poked her head in at the noise. "Oh, dear, is she bothering you, Alex?"
"No." Hamilton pet her belly as Potato rolled over. "I think we're friends."
Mrs. Washington smiled. "Good. It's almost time for dinner, dear."
Hamilton picked up Potato and took her upstairs. He set her on the counter in the bathroom and ran a comb through his knotted hair.
Potato watched him with her bulging brown eyes.
"I wish you were, like, a tracking dog," Hamilton told her. "You could track Aaron down for me."
Potato waved a paw at him.
Hamilton stroked her head and back. "What do I do, Tato? I'm falling apart. I want Aaron not John but at least he gives me something to hold onto. I don't want to be alone."
Across the hall, he heard his phone ring. Hamilton grabbed Potato and threw open the bathroom door. Pleasepleaseplease. He snatched the phone off his dresser.
Laurens.
His body drooped and a nagging sense of dread filled his stomach. He exhaled and answered. "Hi, John."
"Wow, you sound thrilled," he said sarcastically. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. You woke me from a nap." It wasn't a terrible lie.
"Sorry."
"What's up?" He set Potato on the floor and rubbed at the pain in his stomach.
"Do you think I could come over tonight?" Laurens asked. "I miss you on the weekends."
"Um, I have to ask Dad." Hamilton wiped his forehead and grimaced at how greasy his face was. When wasthe last time he showered?
"Okay, let me know." Laurens hung up.
Hamilton closed his eyes as the sting of tears filled them once more. He heard footsteps in the hall but couldn't move to close his door.
"Alexander?" Washington stepped into his room and touched his head. "Do you need to talk more?" He sat on the bench at the foot of Hamilton's bed and pulled his foster son to him.
"John wants to spend the night," Hamilton whispered. He clutched Washington's shirt desperate for something to hang onto.
"You can tell him I said no," Washington replied.
"Thanks."
"It's time for dinner." Washington patted his back. "But I want to talk to you afterward."
Hamilton agreed.
After a dinner that Hamilton barely picked at, he followed Washington to his study.
Washington got two glasses from the wet bar and filled them with rum and coke. He handed one glass to Hamilton. "Sit and talk to me about John." He indicated to the suede armchairs near the bar.
Hamilton took a seat and sipped his drink. "He was always jealous of Aaron," he murmured. "But he's my friend." He took another drink. "Who else was I supposed to go to when I discovered Aaron had left?"
"I understand," Washington said. "Do you feel like he's bullying you?"
Hamilton shook his head. But he paused and mumbled, "I dunno. Maybe. We've had sex twice when I didn't really want to."
Washington took a drink. "That's not okay, son."
Hamilton stared into his glass. "I love him, though."
"But you're hurting and he's not helping you heal, love."
Tears filled Hamilton's eyes.
"Are you still seeing your therapist?"
Hamilton nodded.
"Would you be willing to try medication for your anxiety?"
Hamilton shook his head.
"Okay." Washington patted his leg. "Think about it, though. Finish your drink, then go shower and go to bed early."
"Yes, sir." Hamilton took a drink. "Will you talk to John?"
"I will."
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Finals week began. Hamilton dragged himself to each class. Despite feeling like shit and barely studying, he didn't worry about failing. He knew the material well enough and his GPA had only dipped a little since the previous semester. After his last final of the day, he headed up to Laurens' dorm not having seen him since Friday and the last time they spoke had been for Hamilton to tell Laurens he couldn't spend the night.
Lee answered the door. "Oh, hey, Alexander. John's not here."
Hamilton pushed his way inside. "Do you know where he is? I haven't seen him since Friday and I can't get a hold of him." He chewed on his thumbnail.
"No," Lee said. "I think he said something about a family emergency—?"
Tears spilled suddenly down Hamilton's cheeks. "Why does everyone keep leaving me?" he screamed. A sob jerked his body and he collapsed to the floor in breathy shrieks.
"Hey—hey, it's okay," mumbled Lee. He closed the door. "Don't—don't cry. Um, it's okay." He patted Hamilton's back.
Hamilton cried and beat his fists against the floor.
"Don't. Um, stop. Hush." Lee rubbed his eyes. "Fuck." He knelt down on the floor. "Hey, hey, lamb, I'll call your dad, okay?" He slipped Hamilton's phone out of his back pocket. "What's your password?"
Hamilton sobbed, his whole body shaking.
Lee face stretched in a grimace. "Is he on Facebook?" He grabbed his own phone and pulled up the app. "He better check his messages," he mumbled to himself. He patted Hamilton's back again. "Good, lamb, quiet." He found Washington and sent him a message, crossing his fingers.
Hamilton's cries had turned soundless but his face remained bright red and he struggled to catch his breath, a whistling following every inhale.
"Come on Washington," Lee muttered as he stared at his phone. "Are you sure you don't know your password, Alex?" He watched Hamilton's breakdown. "Yeah, who am I kidding?" He looked at his phone and sighed with relief to see three pulsing dots at the bottom of the message.
Where are you?
Lee typed his room number. He expected Washington to be another ten minutes but only four—long—minutes later the door swung open and Washington was on the floor next to his foster son.
"Alexander, I'm here." Washington pulled him in his arms. "Charles, what happened?"
"I told him John was gone—"
Washington cringed and a grumble rose in his throat. "Thank you, Charles." He stood, a trembling Hamilton in his arms.
His arms ached by the time he got to his car. He rested Hamilton against the hood of the Cadillac while he got out his keys. He sat Hamilton in the passenger seat and hurried around to the driver's side. Once they were on the road, he called his wife.
"I'm taking Alexander to the hospital," he said at once. "He's having a complete mental breakdown."
"Oh, no," Mrs. Washington whispered. "George—"
"He'll be okay. Can you find someone to drive you? I don't—"
Hamilton screamed and threw himself at Washington. The phone flew from his hand.
"Shit!" Washington pushed Hamilton back as the steering wheel turned and he swerved to avoid merging into an occupied lane as horns blared at him. He stopped the car along the curb, half the car sticking out into the right lane.
Washington panted with adrenaline as he put the car in park and his hazard lights on.
Hamilton curled back in his seat, crying.
Driving that same road, Marty J pointed to the Cadillac. "Isn't that Mr. Washington's car?"
Jefferson, in the passenger seat, looked up from his phone. "Shit. Pull over."
Marty J merged over and drew in behind him.
Jefferson got out and hurried over to the driver's side.
Washington pushed the button to lower the window with a shaky hand. "Help me get Alex to the hospital," he whispered.
Jefferson nodded. He moved around the car, shouting to his sister, "Call Mrs. Washington and pick her up. We're going to the hospital."
"On it," Marty J said.
Jefferson opened the passenger door and shifted Hamilton onto his lap. "Panic attack?"
Washington nodded. He clenched his hands on the steering wheel and merged back to the far lane.
Jefferson stroked Hamilton's hair as his nemesis shook, cried, and drooled on him. He squeezed Hamilton tight knowing that helped Madison. It seemed to have a similar effect and Hamilton's cries quieted.
Washington parked at the hospital and found his phone on the floor under the emergency brake. He opened the passenger door for Jefferson. He held out his arms to take his boy, but Jefferson shook his head. "I have a good hold on him."
The next half hour was a blur as Washington explained the situation, filled out forms, hugged and consoled his wife, and finally got his son in a room to get help.
Once Hamilton was sedated and asleep, Washington excused himself and found a bathroom. He barely got the door latched before he fell apart himself. He let himself cry for a minute and sucked in shaky breathes until he composed himself. He dried his eyes and flushed the toilet.
A pale, aged face watched him in the mirror as he left the stall. His boy was fast putting him in an early grave—like his own father—he knew. He washed his hands and cooled his burning eyes.
Jefferson waited outside the bathroom for him. "Okay, sir?"
"Yes, thank you, Thomas." Washington patted his back. "You don't have to stay."
"I don't mind." Jefferson followed him back to the room.
Since Mrs. Washington and his sister had the only chairs, he stood near the door while Washington stroked Hamilton's sleeping face.
Once he knew the Washington's were okay, Jefferson did agree to head home with Marty J.
Washington sat next to his wife and took her hands. "He'll be fine."
Hamilton woke with more tears but he quieted down once he saw his parents.
"John's gone," he whispered.
"I was able to get in contact with him," Washington said and handed his phone to Hamilton to let him read the conversation he'd had while waiting for Hamilton to wake up.
Laurens had apologized and explained that his aunt who lived in the city had kidney stones and he had to take her to the hospital. His phone had died and he'd left it at his aunt's house.
Washington stroked Hamilton's hair. "Everything will be okay."
Hamilton was discharged around eleven that night with several medications for his anxiety and panic attacks.
Hamilton fell asleep in the backseat on the ride home. He half-awoke when they got home and Washington helped him upstairs and into his pajamas. Washington stayed with him, getting little sleep himself.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
"Sir?" Laurens poked his head into Washington's office at the college. "I got your text."
"Come in, John." Washington pointed to the chair across from him.
Laurens set his backpack down and took a seat. "I know I did pretty shitty on that last test," he said tucking back his curly hair. "That didn't—"
"Your grades are fine," Washington said. He studied the young man's pretty freckled face and wondered how he could be so callous. "I'm concerned about your attitude towards Alexander."
Laurens looked away. "He can talk to me himself."
"I don't think you've been listening to him. He asked me to talk to you. What's been going on, John?"
"I don't want to sound like I'm making excuses," Laurens mumbled.
"Tell me anyway." Washington folded his hands on his desk.
"My dad constantly sends me anti-gay stuff. Here." Laurens pulled out his phone and brought up the text string.
Washington scrolled through the pictures and messages of slurs and religious propaganda. "While this isn't right, John—" Washington handed back the phone "—how does it correlate with you treating Alexander so poorly?"
"So I could feel powerful." Laurens dug his fingernails into his palms. "I have to read that crap every day and I feel worse than shit and Alex is so broken and—I don't know. I wanted to feel okay. Like I wasn't defenseless."
"Why didn't you just talk to Alexander?" Washington watched the youth with a mix of pity and anger.
"Like he needed to hear my problems on top of his." Laurens picked at the case on his phone.
"You still took advantage of him."
"I know."
"Are you sorry?" Washington asked.
Laurens fiddled with his hair. "Sort of."
Washington raised an eyebrow.
"I feel bad that I stressed him out more, but he came to me. He kept coming to my room at night. I didn't go to him. I wasn't going to say no. I missed him."
Washington frowned. "You forced him to have sex with you."
"Forced is a rather strong word." Laurens glanced at him.
"You need to apologize to him," Washington commanded.
Laurens looked at his lap. "I tried to find Aaron for him," he mumbled. "I knew that was the only way to make amends with him. That's where I was when I didn't contact him, not because of my aunt. Aaron used to frequent a Goodwill store in that shitty part of town and a girl told me that he and his uncle had been evicted. How is he paying for college, sir? Do you know? Because I don't think he can afford to come back."
Washington leaned forward in his chair. "Can anyone corroborate?"
"I'm not lying." Laurens made eye contact. "I didn't want to tell Alex what I found because if Aaron can't come back… At least he has some hope right now."
Washington nodded. "It was my understanding that he had a trust fund set up by his parents, but I don't know how much it held. You still need to apologize to Alexander."
"Yes, sir. Should I tell him about the eviction?"
Washington sighed. "I would rather you not. You're right; at least Alexander has some hope right now. You may go."
Laurens left and headed for Hamilton's dorm.
Hamilton sat in the hallway instead of in his room, laptop across his legs.
"Hey, Alex."
Hamilton gave a nod without looking up.
"Um, Washington talked to me." Laurens sat next to him. "I'm sorry I made you feel like crap. I—I was being a jerk and treating you the way my father treats me. I'm sorry."
Hamilton pushed his laptop aside. "I forgive you." He rested his head against Laurens' chest. "I love you, please don't leave me."
"I won't." Laurens gripped him tight. "And I'll treat you a thousand times better."
"I'm ready," Jefferson told Washington before his final exam started. "I don't like the person I'm becoming. I need to talk to Jemmy and make everything right." He sucked in a deep breath. "He texted me back last night and said he wanted to talk. I'm scared."
Washington squeezed his shoulder. "Everything will be okay. Why don't we pick up some candy for Jemmy on our way home? Don't fret." He kissed Jefferson's forehead. "I'll take you to Montpelier tonight." He ran through his plans in his mind and would have to take Hamilton home early and pick up his stuff tomorrow.
Jefferson sucked in a shaky breath. "Thank you, sir."
The day dragged on and Jefferson courted a headache for most of it as he struggled through finals with little motivation. He met Washington at his office at four o'clock and rode with him to a candy store and then on to Montpelier.
He stood on the porch and rang the doorbell certain that was the first time he'd ever had to do that.
Frank answered the door and they both grimaced.
"I need to talk to James," Jefferson said. His grip tightened on his backpack.
"Yeah, no." Frank closed the door.
Jefferson wedged his foot in before it could close. "You don't make that call." He pushed his way inside.
Frank gave up and walked away.
Jefferson left his bag by the stairs and followed Frank towards the kitchen. About half the family sat at the table finishing dinner.
Mrs. Madison smiled at him as she wiped Bess' face. "Good to see you, again, Thomas. Jemmy's upstairs."
"Thank you." Jefferson returned to the stairs and grabbed his bag. He took several deep breaths as he walked and tried to decide what to say. He knocked on Madison's door, still unsure.
When he received no answer, Jefferson pushed it open a crack.
Madison lay asleep on top of the covers, baby blanket tucked close to his face.
Jefferson slipped in quietly and sat on the floor below him. "I love you, you know," he whispered. "I never stopped." He unzipped his backpack and pulled out several candy bars, a bag of gummy worms and another of taffy. He set everything on Madison's nightstand and headed for the door.
"Don't leave, T," Madison murmured.
Jefferson turned around.
Madison sat up and tucked back his messy hair. "Can we talk?"
Jefferson returned to the bed and sat. "I'm ace. I don't know what that's going to mean for us," he said studying his hands.
"That you hit the trifecta," Madison replied and rested a hand over Jefferson's. "Black, gay, and ace. I'm really lucky." He moved closer and crawled onto Jefferson's lap. "I've been researching. We'll make this work, I promise."
Jefferson wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "But what about everything else? I'll stop drinking destructively but it'll be harder to erase your fears."
"We go slow. We both need that." Madison stroked Jefferson's arm. "I should have called you sooner, I know—"
"It's okay, Jem. We needed some space." He smoothed down Madison's tangled hair.
"Are you okay?" Madison glanced up at him. "With being asexual?"
Jefferson shook his head and willed away the tears filling his eyes.
Madison's heart broke and he used his sleeve to dry Jefferson's face. "I promise it'll be okay."
"I made you wait two years." Jefferson's voice cracked. "Why didn't I know before?"
"How could you have if you've never been in that position?" Madison stroked his cheek.
Jefferson shook his head. "I should have realized. I wanted to ask you to prom so bad but I never wanted to sleep with you. I've never thought about sex. Never masturbated. I've never had these supposed sexual urges that everyone else gets. I don't get it, Jem. How am I supposed to—?"
"Hush," Madison commanded.
Jefferson gulped in air after his wordy explosion.
"You know what I want more than anything?" Madison said. He rubbed a hand against Jefferson's arm, slow and gentle. "A little house in the country with you. We'll have a few cats. You'll be this amazing, bigshot lawyer and I'll burn everything I attempt to cook. You'll come home and we'll have some wine because we'll need to be fucked to eat what I make; we'll watch TV with the cats, then we'll cuddle and fall asleep together. We don't need sex, T. We'll figure this out. You're not weird; you're not abnormal or broken. You're you and you're perfect." Madison took his hands and kissed them. "I love you very, very much and I'm sorry I broke your balls."
Jefferson sucked in a snuffled breath. "Don't need my junk anyway."
Madison smiled. "Maybe once?"
Jefferson kissed his head. "Once." He closed his eyes and squeezed his boyfriend tight. "Is everything okay? What else do we need to discuss?"
"One very important thing." Madison watched him. "Why the hell have we not eaten all this candy?"
Jefferson chuckled.
Madison slipped out of his arms and grabbed a chocolate bar. He got back on the bed. "Are you spending the night?"
"Don't have a ride, so…" Jefferson took a candy bar and sat next to him.
"Good." Madison glanced at him. "Don't eat that."
"Huh?" Jefferson stopped opening the wrapper.
"Let me see."
Jefferson handed over the candy bar and Madison tackled him down, tickling him.
"Should have known," Jefferson gasped between bouts of laughter. He rolled over on top of Madison and got him back until his laughter became soundless. He stopped then before he gave his boyfriend an asthma attack, and pulled him close.
Washington picked him up the next morning before returning to the college to pack up Hamilton's dorm. "You look happier."
"Yeah, thank you." Jefferson buckled his seatbelt. "We talked. We're going to be okay."
"Good."
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Laurens stopped by Mount Vernon before his plane left that evening.
"This is for you." Laurens held out a plastic shopping bag as he kicked off his flip-flops in the foyer.
Hamilton took the bag and pulled out a stuffed dog that looked similar to Potato.
"Not to replace your bear," Laurens asserted, "but so you know I love you, too."
"Thanks, Jack." Hamilton wrapped his arms around Laurens' neck. "Let's go upstairs."
They sat on the floor in Hamilton's room, backs against the bed. Hamilton held the toy in his lap. "Dad told me about what your father does. I'm sorry you have to deal with that."
Laurens nodded. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Alex." Tears filled his eyes and he sniffled. He wiped at his eyes but the tears kept coming. "I'm really sorry."
"I know." Hamilton pulled him closer and cradled Laurens' head in his lap. "I'm still kind of unsure what all happened. It feels foggy from being in a panic the whole time. I just want to forget the last six weeks."
"Same." Laurens closed his eyes as Hamilton played with his hair. "Is the medication helping?"
"It is." He paused and murmured. "Do you think we can be okay, Jack?"
"Yeah, I do." Laurens sat up to meet Hamilton's eyes. "But I understand if you don't trust me. I shouldn't have made you…sleep with me. Nor should I have taken your bear. Alex, I'm really—"
Hamilton pressed a finger against his lips. "We'll start over."
Laurens nodded.
Hamilton removed his finger and kissed him. "What time do you have to go?"
"My aunt is picking me up at three." Laurens checked the time on his phone. "I have an hour."
Hamilton stood and pulled Laurens to his feet. "Let's go sit outside. We could use some fresh air and sunshine." He took his friend's hand.
Laurens squeezed his fingers. "Thank you," he whispered.
A few days later, once everyone settled back into the routine of being home, Washington announced at dinner that they were going to take a short vacation.
"Just a few days," he said, "before you boys start work."
He told them about the farm in Virginia where he'd grown up and had run for many years before turning the operation over to his brother once he decided to pursue a teaching career and chose to move to the city.
"My brother runs it as a bed and breakfast," Washington explained. "As well as hobby farm for tourists. You boys can help with the animals."
"Cool," Lafayette said.
"Who's going to watch the dogs?" Hamilton asked.
"Mary and Marty J Jefferson," Mrs. Washington said. "They'll stay at the house and take care of the pack." She patted Hamilton's hand. "Except Potato. We'll take her with."
Hamilton grinned while Washington and Lafayette groaned.
The family packed up the Cadillac a few days later and drove the four hours to the Washington farm. Potato rode on Mrs. Washington's lap and snapped at Washington every time he moved his hand to put on the turn signal or if he dared to adjust the radio.
The Washington family farm was thousands of acres, most of the land rented out as pasture for sheep and cows. A good portion was reserved for the hobby farm and had its own petting zoo and a garden for people to pick their own food.
"Why would you give this up?" Lafayette asked as they drove down the long, shaded driveway.
"Teaching called me louder," Washington said. "No way could I have managed the upkeep and teach full time and I didn't want to sell any of it off."
The huge, stately three-story house came into view and Washington parked in front of the stand-alone garage.
Washington turned off the car. "Well, boys, this is the real Mount Vernon."
Hamilton scrambled out of the car. It was the type of house he thought he was going to live in once he learned he'd be living in the Estates. Not that he hadn't come to love the Washington's much smaller Victorian home, but this… He couldn't wait to explore every inch.
August Washington came out to meet them. He was four years younger and had the same blue-gray eyes and solemn face.
"Been too long, George." He embraced his brother and then his sister-in-law, white Potato waited in the car. He turned to the boys. "Well, Lafayette, you've grown since I saw you at Christmas, what, five years ago?" He shook Lafayette's hand with a smile and moved onto Hamilton. "And you must be Alexander."
Hamilton shook his hand, tongue-tied over the awesomeness of Mount Vernon to speak.
"You might have some explaining to do, George." August grinned at his older brother. "Alexander looks nothing like you. He's too short to be a Washington."
Washington chuckled. "He has the proper attitude, trust me." He put an arm around his foster son. "He's a good kid."
"A redhead, though," August teased. "Well, come on in. The girls have been waiting all day. Hannah has a big dinner planned."
Mrs. Washington retrieved Potato and the family followed August inside the beautiful mansion.
The front door opened into a square entryway. The stairs curved off to one side and a huge window offered a peaceful view of the Potomac, green fields and forests.
Footsteps clattered through one of the open doorways and three girls ran out with shouts of "Uncle George!" and "Aunt Martha!"
"Goodness, you girls are getting so big!" Mrs. Washington exclaimed. She handed Potato to Hamilton and embraced August's three youngest daughters: eleven-year-old Jo, seven-year-old Georgia, and four-year-old Austin. The commotion brought the three older girls and wife Hannah into the entry room. August introduced the older girls, Lorraine, Etta, and Marley, who were twenty, eighteen, and fourteen.
"We'll show you where you'll sleep," August said. He led the family upstairs and showed them the Blue Room where the Washington's would stay. The couples got to swapping stories and Lorraine took the boys to the third floor.
"Not as glamorous," she said, "but you have access to the cupola." She pointed to the ladder that led to the small tower. "You have to share." She opened a door and let them in the small room. A single window gave the room plenty of light.
Hamilton set Potato on the bed.
"Cozy," Lafayette mumbled. "Are you sure we have to share?"
"That's what Dad said." Lorraine shrugged. She moved out of the room enticing them to follow her back downstairs.
The family got a short tour before dinner. The evening was spent in the west parlor talking and drinking. By bedtime, Lafayette and Hamilton were too tipsy to mind sharing a bed.
The next few days went by in a rush. Hamilton hung out with the younger girls playing with the animals or wading in a shallow extension of the Potomac. Lafayette made friends with the oldest two and stayed closer to the house, talking and playing cards.
The brothers toured the property while the women relaxed and chatted on the front porch, the children occupied and out of their hair. Potato remained in Mrs. Washington's arms ninety percent of the time and enjoyed every minute of it.
"Are you feeling better, little lion?" Lafayette asked as they prepared for bed on their last night. "I wish I'd known how miserable you've been."
"Yeah, getting there," said Hamilton as he undressed. "I still wish Aaron would call."
"Don't blame you." Lafayette tugged off his shirt. "You had planned to ask him out, didn't you?"
Hamilton nodded. "I wonder what would have happened with John if I had."
"He'd probably been a bigger shit to you." He pulled on a gray t-shirt and changed out of his jeans into shorts. "Are you sure you still want to be with him? He didn't respect you at all, Alex. I don't want you being hurt again."
Hamilton sat on the edge of the bed and scratched at a bug bite on his leg. "Yes and no."
Lafayette kept quiet and waited for him to continue.
"On one hand, I don't want to let him go because he does mean a lot to me, even if he wasn't nice for a few weeks." Hamilton tucked his legs on the bed and picked at his bare foot. "But I don't fully trust him. I do get why he did what he did. I've been bullied for being bisexual from other foster parents and siblings and it was incredibly hard to deal with and I would have done shit like John did to feel powerful and like I had some control over my life. But…"
"He's a jealous person," Lafayette said. He got on the other side of the bed. "If Aaron comes back, what are you going to do?"
"When," Hamilton insisted. "And I don't know. I don't know if I can trust Aaron anymore either."
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
(June 2016)
After the family returned from their long weekend in Virginia, Washington had his boys over for a cookout. Jefferson, Madison, and Mulligan all arrived about the same time and headed into the backyard.
Hamilton stood near the grill with some of the dogs where Washington was preparing hamburgers.
Mrs. Washington set a bowl of chips on the nearby picnic table. "There's our Jemmy," she said. "You look very cute."
Madison smiled. He had lime green and hot pink streaks in his hair that matched his green striped boy's t-shirt and pink knit skirt that fell above his impossibly white knees. He had taken off his shoes and every other toenail was painted bright green.
"Alex!" Madison scurried over and hugged him.
"Hey, squirt." Hamilton lifted him off his feet. He wasn't that much shorter but weighed less than a hundred pounds.
"I graduated from high school," Madison said, beaming. "My party is next week. You should come."
Hamilton smiled. "Sure." He caught Jefferson's eye as Madison made a beeline for the chip bowl. "He's very 'James' today."
Jefferson shook his head. "I'm still not sure what to think of it. But after what happened I didn't think he'd feel comfortable wearing a skirt again and I'm glad he can still be himself."
"True. He looks really cute."
Jefferson's lips went in a thin line. He moved towards the cooler. "You want something to drink, Jem?"
"Yeah." Madison joined him to pick out a drink, then returned to the chip bowl.
"It's good to see your appetite back." Mrs. Washington stroked his long hair.
"Were you sick again?" Hamilton asked joining them around the table.
"I'm always sick," Madison said.
"It's probably because you're so cute—germs just want to attack you."
Madison beamed.
Jefferson came over and rested his hands on Madison's shoulders. He shot Hamilton an annoyed look.
Hamilton rolled his eyes. "What? I've been nice to you."
"I suppose," Jefferson said. He turned his attention back to Madison.
Hamilton left the table and went inside. He hugged himself against the sudden wave of sadness. He missed Laurens already. Sure, what he'd done had been wrong but Hamilton had told Lafayette the truth that he understood parental abuse too well. He knew that fear, humiliation, and sadness and couldn't hold it against his best friend. They'd both been hurting and unable to express it properly to each other.
Madison skipped into the house. "Hey, Alex, you alright?"
"Yeah." Hamilton relaxed his arms. "I was just gonna check on the other dogs."
Potato couldn't be trusted around strangers and the old pug mix didn't like crowds.
"Okay." Madison watched him with his bright blue eyes. A strand of his long hair had blown off center.
Hamilton moved the hair back to its proper side and tucked it behind Madison's ear. "Come and meet Potato and Mugsley. I don't think they'll mind you."
Madison followed him upstairs. Potato gave her usual growl at anyone who wasn't Mrs. Washington or Hamilton and returned to licking peanut butter out of a bone. Mugsley wagged his stump tail and snorted.
"He's pretty much blind," Hamilton said. He sat on the floor and the pug mix sniffed his hand. Madison sat next to him; legs sprawled in a W position.
"I'm more of a cat person," Madison said tucking his hair back. "But Mrs. Washington's dogs are small and funny." He let Mugsley smell his hand and scratched the dog's chest. "Thomas is going to get me a cat someday. My parents have two."
"How long have you known Thomas?" Hamilton asked. He fought an urge to cuddle Madison on his lap.
"I dunno, like forever." Madison crawled across the floor—heedless of his boxer briefs showing beneath his skirt—to pick up a small, squishy ball. Potato eyed the toy while keeping a safe distance. "Will she catch this?"
"Maybe."
Madison plopped down next to Hamilton, no concept of personal space as their legs and feet touched, and tossed the ball lightly towards Potato.
She caught it easily and ran under a chair.
"Why don't we go downstairs?" Hamilton suggested. "Potomac will play fetch with you."
"Okay!" Madison held out a hand. Hamilton pulled him to his feet.
Jefferson waited in the kitchen. "Where were you? Food's ready."
"Playing with the other dogs," Madison said. He looked back at Hamilton. "Which one is Potomac?"
Hamilton pointed out the terrier mutt begging Washington for a hotdog.
Madison ran outside.
"I almost have trouble believing he's sickly," Hamilton said, half to himself.
"He has this need to make up for lost time when he's healthy," Jefferson replied. He headed outside.
Hamilton followed and filled up his plate.
Jefferson tried and failed to coax Madison away from the dog to eat.
Hamilton left his plate and called out to Madison, "You want a hotdog or hamburger, James?"
"Hamburger," Madison said. He giggled as Potomac rolled the ball towards him.
Hamilton shot Jefferson a sly grin.
Madison tossed the ball again and took his plate from Hamilton.
Jefferson couldn't be too peeved, though, since Madison sat on his lap.
Mrs. Washington asked the boys their summer plans. No one had anything too exciting to report as they all, except Madison, had gotten jobs.
"I'm just planning to stay out of the hospital," Madison said. He stretched across the table for the bowl of chips. Jefferson pulled him back on his lap and pushed the bowl closer.
"That would be good, dear," Mrs. Washington said.
Seconds were finished as the wind picked up. The boys hurried to take everything inside. Clouds grew dark and heavy in the south.
Hamilton pulled his phone out to check for weather alerts.
Washington patted his shoulder. "Just a little summer storm, Alex. It'll be over in a half hour."
Hamilton nodded and was distracted by Madison grabbing his hand.
"Does Potomac have any balls to play with inside?" he asked.
Hamilton showed Madison where the dog's toy box was. Madison grabbed several balls and coaxed Potomac into the front room where there was more space. Hamilton followed and sat on the floor with him. The rest of the crowd remained to chat in the kitchen.
Madison scampered across the floor retrieving the balls Potomac missed or didn't return. Panting, he crawled towards Hamilton. He looked up at him like an eager puppy.
Hamilton patted him on the head. "What classes are you taking?"
"I don't remember," Madison said. He plopped himself in Hamilton's lap and tossed a squeaky ball towards Potomac. He caught it and squeaked it several times.
Hamilton didn't dare move and prayed Jefferson wouldn't come out of the kitchen right then.
Potomac returned the ball and Madison threw it again.
Hamilton brushed Madison's hair back and fixed his skirt over his legs. He was so delicate. Even though Hamilton knew he himself could be described as feminine in stature, Madison was even smaller. The circumference of his wrist looked like only a few inches. His feet were a child's size two at best.
Jefferson came out of the kitchen. "Jem, get off him."
"It's fine, T," Hamilton said glancing over Madison's shoulder. Jefferson's forgiveness of his constant stupidity—and helping take him to the hospital—made him realize he wasn't that appalling. Besides, anyone who could handle someone as high maintenance as Madison couldn't be all around terrible.
Jefferson came closer and sat down on the floor, his knees popping.
"You're getting old," Madison teased him. "You're not a teenager anymore."
Jefferson shook his head with a faint smile. "Come here."
Hamilton wrapped his arms around Madison. "Mine."
Madison giggled.
Jefferson cracked a smile. "Hell, you don't know what you're getting into, but by all means, please, take him off my hands."
"Thomas!" Madison complained.
Jefferson tapped his nose.
"I can take care of you just as well," Hamilton told Madison, teasing in his voice. "Plus you wouldn't have to strain your neck looking up all the time."
Madison looked back at him. "True."
Hamilton stroked his hair and squeezed him.
"Enough, he's not a toy," Jefferson scolded. "I need to get you home soon, Jemmy."
"It's okay, T," Madison reassured. He squeezed Hamilton's knees. "What time is it?"
"After four."
Madison nodded and pushed off on Hamilton's legs and stood. Jefferson rose less easily.
They said their goodbyes. Hamilton retreated up to his room and went on Facebook, praying for anything from Burr to appear. Nothing. But Laurens had posted a meme on his page. Hamilton spent the next fifteen minutes searching for the perfect picture in which to reply.
Laurens called him a few minutes later.
"What's up?" Hamilton asked. He lay back on his bed.
"Bored. How was the party?' Laurens replied.
"Eh. I didn't kill Jefferson."
"Wow, I'm impressed."
"Right?" Hamilton stuck his arm up in the air and stared at his fingers. "I miss you."
"Same," Laurens replied. "I should be able to visit in July."
"Please." Hamilton dropped his arm back on the bed and rolled over. "What're you wearing?"
Laurens chuckled. "I'll Facetime you."
"Okay." Hamilton hung up and answered Laurens video chat a few seconds later. "You look fancy," he commented as Laurens showed off the mint green dress shirt, tie, and gray slacks he wore.
"Church picnic," Laurens said. "I feel so dirty."
"You should, corrupting innocent church-goers with your gay ass there."
Laurens laughed. "You have no idea how many times I wanted to say something inappropriate."
"I believe it." Hamilton licked his lips. "You gonna take some of that off?"
"I could." Laurens propped his phone up against his pillow and pulled off his tie. "That good?"
"Fuck you, Laurens." Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Come on, show some skin."
Laurens unbuttoned his shirt, one careful button at a time to reveal an undershirt underneath it.
Hamilton groaned. "You're a terrible striptease."
"Guess we'll need to practice more." Laurens yanked off his undershirt. "Is this one-sided or are you gonna take off some clothes, too?"
"You have the better body."
"Fuck you, Ham." Laurens moved in close to the camera. "You got a nice ass."
"Whatever. Let me see yours." Hamilton moved a hand between his legs and rubbed at himself.
Laurens backed away from the camera and pulled off his belt. He unbuttoned his slacks.
"Go slow," said Hamilton.
"Are you touching yourself?" Laurens asked with a grin.
"Well, I can't touch you," Hamilton reasoned.
Laurens inched his pants down, then his underwear.
A grin stretched across Hamilton's face as he rubbed himself harder. "You're getting better, Jack."
Laurens moved in closer to the camera taking away the full body shot. "Let me see your moves, Hammy."
"No way."
Laurens rolled his eyes. "Not giving you another look then."
Hamilton grumbled. "Fine." He started to pull his shirt off when Laurens held up a hand to stop him.
"I have to go, Alex," he whispered as the color drained from his face. "I love you."
He hung up.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Hamilton spent the next day trying to reach Laurens.
"He'll call," Washington assured while his son paced in his office.
"What if he's gone, too?" Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail until he tasted blood.
Washington gave up trying to pay bills. "He probably just got his phone taken away."
"You know it wouldn't be something that lenient." He tucked his chewed up thumb under his other fingers. "It's Aaron all over again, Dad."
"No, Alexander."
"It is!" Hamilton's face reddened and he stomped his foot.
"Easy." Washington stood and approached him. "Deep breathes."
Hamilton sucked in a ragged gasp. "Daddy..."
"Shh." Washington pulled him close. "John's okay, love. He'll call. He's not doing this to hurt you."
Hamilton nodded and pressed his face against Washington's shoulder. He took several deep breathes.
"Good boy." Washington rubbed his back. "Let's go help Mom make dinner, okay?"
"Okay," Hamilton whispered.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Washington handed him potatoes to peel but changed her mind when she saw his bloody thumb. "Let's take care of that first." She led him to the bathroom, and cleaned and bandaged his digit.
As she finished, Hamilton's phone rang.
Laurens
Nerves still fried, Hamilton cried as soon as he answered it.
"Hey, hey, Hammy, I'm okay," Laurens soothed. "My phone and computer got taken away are all. My siblings couldn't be persuaded to be nice for once and let me use theirs. It's all good, babe."
Hamilton snuffled. "Jack..."
Mrs. Washington squeezed his shoulder and left him alone.
Hamilton grabbed a wad of toilet paper to dry his eyes. "You didn't get beat?"
"No, I'm okay. Please, don't think I was trying to hurt you."
"I know," Hamilton murmured. "I still..."
"I understand. I tried to find a way to contact you because I knew you'd be upset. Everything's okay."
"Are you sure?" Hamilton persisted.
"Yes."
Hamilton caught the faint quiver in his voice and the breathy inhale. "Jack, don't lie to me."
"I'm not," said Laurens an octave above snapping. "I'll call you every day and see you in a few weeks. I love you."
"Jack—"
"Give my love to your folks."
"Jack—"
"Talk to you soon, Alexander." Laurens hung up.
Hamilton dragged himself back to the kitchen.
"What'd he say?" Washington asked as he set aside the peeler and potato.
"That he was okay." Hamilton stumbled into him and hung on. "I don't believe him."
Washington stroked his hair. "We'll do what we can."
"I'm tired of feeling like this." His slender fingers latched onto Washington's shirt. "I'm on meds and in therapy; why do I still feel like this?"
"It takes time, love." Washington tightened his grip. "You've had a traumatic life. Abandonment is a huge trigger for you. You'll be okay, but you have to be patient with yourself."
"I'm trying."
"I know and you're doing amazing, Alexander." Washington kissed his head. "Sit down. I'll make you some tea."
Hamilton sat at the table while Washington put on the water to boil and got out milk and sugar. Mrs. Washington finished dinner preparations.
When the teakettle whistled, Mrs. Washington poured three mugs of hot water and the family sat down together. She was just about to comment on how peaceful it was when the dogs took off running and barking at the front door as the lock turned.
"It's just me," Lafayette told them and shooed them back.
"You're home early," Washington said. "Do you want tea?"
Lafayette entered the kitchen. "Sure." He stood behind Hamilton's chair and rested his hands on his brother's shoulders. "I had this nagging voice in my head that said I ought to be at home instead. You alright, little lion?"
"Eh." Hamilton wrapped his hands around his warm cup.
"That's what I thought." Lafayette massaged Hamilton's neck. "Do you want to get ice cream after dinner? Just you and me."
Hamilton nodded.
Dinner of homemade fries and beef stroganoff were soon ready. After dishes were done, Lafayette leashed Potomac and the boys walked the dog the two miles to a corner ice cream kiosk.
"Is John still being a dick to you?" Lafayette asked.
"No." Hamilton watched his boots. "I just couldn't get a hold of him for a day and I panicked."
"I'm sorry."
Hamilton looked at him.
"What, you think I don't care about you? You're my brother, Alexander. I'm sorry that you couldn't have lived here years earlier. You went through a lot of shit you shouldn't have had to if people didn't take advantage of you and your situation. No parent should have ever bullied you."
Hamilton's gaze returned to the ground. "Thanks, Laf. I wish I had gotten to live here sooner, too. I think you and I would have been able to be a lot closer."
"No reason we can't start now." Lafayette punched his shoulder.
"True." Hamilton punched him back. "Are you still dating Adrienne?"
A smile broke Lafayette's face. "Yeah."
"Why don't you ever bring her around?"
"I will. I just didn't want to earlier until I knew we might last. Mom would get too attached right away."
"Mom wants a daughter." Hamilton grinned.
"Yup and her boys keep turning out gay." He tousled Hamilton's hair.
Talking made the walk go by fast and they soon got in line for ice cream. Lafayette paid for the cones and a small scoop for Potomac. The boys sat on a bench while the dog made quick work of his treat. They headed back licking their cones.
With Hamilton's encouragement, Lafayette asked their parents if Adrienne could come over for dinner. The Washington's readily agreed eager finally to meet Lafayette's girlfriend.
She came over the next night and instantly won Mrs. Washington's heart by cooing over the pack of dogs and mentioning the Papillion's her parents had.
After dinner, everyone sat in the family room to watch a movie. Lafayette and Adrienne snuggled together on the couch. Washington and his wife smiled at each other at the sight but it dragged up an ache in Hamilton's heart and he excused himself.
He hurried upstairs to his room and pulled out his phone. He couldn't be alone. He needed someone to hold, someone to hold him. He dialed the familiar number and closed his eyes begging for an answer.
"The number you are trying to reach is unavailable."
But instead of hanging up, as usual, Hamilton left a message. "Um, hey Aaron. I don't know if this is even your number anymore but I wanted you to know how much I miss you. Um, like I miss you a lot. I was going to ask you out before you left. I thought maybe... Um, anyway, I still love you." He hung up and squeezed the phone in his fist. "Don't cry," he commanded himself. He sucked in a deep breath and returned downstairs.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The next Saturday, the Washington's and Hamilton headed down the street to Madison's graduation party. Not knowing anyone besides them, Madison, and—regrettably—Jefferson, Hamilton stayed close to his foster parents.
Madison skipped over to them wearing rolled up skinny jeans and a purple t-shirt. The shirt matched the streaks of color in his hair and the nail polish on his bare feet.
"I'm glad you guys came," Madison said with a wide smile.
Washington and Mrs. Washington hugged him.
"We're glad you made it through the year," Mrs. Washington said. "You'll be back with your friends and George in the fall."
Madison nodded and took Hamilton's hand. "Come see my cake."
The cake was chocolate with chocolate frosting. On the top was the standard Congratulations, James in purple icing.
"I wanted a unicorn," Madison said, "but Mom said I needed to chill." He smiled up at Jefferson as his boyfriend came over. But he ran off a moment later as his mom called to him.
Jefferson and Hamilton stared at the ground.
"He's very…'James' today," Hamilton mumbled.
"You should have what he wanted to wear," Jefferson replied. "This look is a major compromise. I still think the nail polish is too much."
Hamilton shrugged. "It suits him." He hurried off to find Washington.
The Washington's sat with some other folks their age, drinking and talking.
Hamilton stood behind Washington's chair.
"Now, is this your youngest?" asked one of the women as she pointed to Hamilton.
"Alexander and Lafayette are actually the same age," Washington said with a glance at his boy. "They just finished their first year of college."
"Oh, gosh, he looks so young."
Hamilton gave a quick smile and looked down.
Mrs. Washington changed the subject to ask about so-and-so's health.
"Do you feel okay, Alex?" Washington said in a low voice.
Hamilton nodded.
"You're too quiet."
"I don't know anyone here." Hamilton picked at his nails.
"You could talk to Thomas."
Hamilton glared at him.
"Alright, alright. You can bring a chair over if you like."
"I can stand," Hamilton mumbled.
Washington was drawn back into the conversation and Hamilton listened as he spoke of his teaching change from high school back to college. Soon, a text distracted him.
Laurens.
Hamilton pulled up the message in hopes of good news that Laurens could get away from his father or an explanation for lying but instead found a shirtless picture of Laurens. He locked the screen quickly, blood rushing to his face.
Another message came in and another and Hamilton was forced to open it back up to stop the dinging. Another shirtless but more provocative picture and the message: send me one.
I'm at James' graduation party, Hamilton replied.
Thirty seconds later, Laurens sent a more seductive picture.
Hamilton clicked his phone dark.
The messages rang in.
Washington looked back at him.
"It's John," Hamilton mumbled.
"Answer or turn off your phone," Washington scolded.
Hamilton opened the messages and bit his lip at the new picture. An unwelcome rush of blood ran downwards.
Stop messaging me or I'll turn off my phone, he typed and willed the heat in his body to vanish. But dang you're hot.
Come on send me something! Laurens replied and sent another nude shot.
Hamilton glanced at Washington and hurried off to find a bathroom.
Once he locked the door, he texted, what do I do? I've never sexted.
Seriously? Laurens replied. You who lost his virginity at what fifteen?
Whatever.
Undress and take a pic.
How about a video chat? Hamilton suggested instead not keen on the idea of nude pictures of himself being on Laurens' phone.
Fine. Laurens called him a moment later. "Jeez, Hammy, you're still dressed."
Hamilton grumbled. "Give me a minute." He tugged off his t-shirt. "You're safe, right?"
Laurens ignored the question. "Pants off, Alexander."
"Keep your voice down." Hamilton undid his jeans.
Laurens rolled his eyes. He lay back on his bed, phone above him just close enough to tantalize what was beyond the screen.
"I'm not taking my boxers off until you answer a question," Hamilton said. "Are you safe?"
"Alex…" Laurens looked away. "Let's just have fun."
Hamilton sighed and pulled his boxers down but kept the camera on his top half. "Now what?"
"Is there a tub in the bathroom?" Laurens asked. "You could sit all sexy." He sat up, eyes darting away as his face tightened.
Hamilton didn't dare breath, listening for what Laurens heard on his end.
The view changed to the ceiling as the sound of a door crashing open struck Hamilton's ears.
"Dad, no!" Laurens shouted followed by the slap of something against bare flesh.
"I'm sick of your behavior!" Mr. Laurens bellowed and the same sound repeated. "Are you selling yourself on the internet? Your brother saw you last time."
"Don't hit me," Laurens pleaded.
Hamilton set his phone on the counter to keep his face hidden and chewed on his fingers. How could he help Laurens? He needed to get Washington but he was afraid of accidentally hanging up on Laurens while he texted.
"If you want to keep going to college, I'll do as I want," Mr. Laurens spat and made Laurens cry out.
With trembling fingers, Hamilton managed to bring up Washington's number and texted him. John's in trouble. I need your help. In downstairs bathroom near kitchen.
His body shook as he listened to Laurens' dad torment and beat his son. Should he say something to get Mr. Laurens' attention or would that only put Laurens in more danger? He jumped when a knock sounded on the door.
Hamilton opened the door and Washington looked away.
"Goodness, Alexander."
Color darkened Hamilton's face having forgotten he remained naked. He grabbed his boxers and pointed to his phone.
Washington looked at the screen still showing the ceiling and listened to the shouts and cries. He picked up the phone and said, "Henry, this is George Washington, may I speak to you?"
The other line went silent except for a faint whimper from Laurens. Then—
"You better run, boy" and Mr. Laurens bloodshot, bulging eyes filled the screen. "You the cunt telling my boy it's okay to fuck other boys?"
Washington's jaw tightened. "I'm the one letting John know it's okay to be himself. If you're hurting him, I will—"
"Shut up, fag."
Washington snarled. "Speak to me like that again and I won't hesitate to string you up, sir."
"Fuck yourself." Mr. Laurens ended the video chat.
"Shit." Washington turned to Hamilton. "Looks like we're going to South Carolina."
They left that night for the two-hour flight and took a taxi to the Laurens' residence, arriving just before midnight. Laurens didn't attempt any further contact and Hamilton knew to tell him their plan had a high likelihood of falling into the wrong hands.
Once they were outside and Washington made sure the taxi would remain, Hamilton called Laurens. At the sound of an angry, spitting voice calling him the "twat fucking his son," he handed the phone to Washington.
"Hello, again, Henry," Washington said. "We're here to collect John."
"You're too late."
Washington pressed a hand against his lips but managed to keep his voice calm. "Excuse me?"
"Sent that sack of shit off to Bible camp. He won't bother you or your bastard."
"Which camp?"
Mr. Laurens snorted and hung up.
Hamilton gnawed on his thumb. "John?"
"Bible camp," Washington said. "We'll find him, Alexander." He rested a hand against his son's shoulder ready to pull him close in the advent of a breakdown.
Hamilton closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I know. Where do we start?"
Washington patted his back. "Good boy. I have a decent guess of which camp." He steered Hamilton towards the taxi. He googled an address and gave it to the driver.
It was an hour away and Hamilton could barely keep his eyes open. He dozed against Washington and jolted awake when the taxi stopped.
"I assume you want me to stay?" asked the driver.
"Yes." Washington opened the door and pulled Hamilton with him. They headed towards the only building that had a light on, little else visible in the dark countryside.
Washington knocked on the door and a tired, bewildered man answered.
He was young, not much older than Hamilton or Laurens. "Um, are you lost?"
"We're looking for John Laurens," Washington said.
The man shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."
"Not surprised. How much can I bribe you for?"
He coughed. "What—what is going on with him? He was, like, dropped off without notice or any luggage. Looked completely rattled."
"Nothing good," Washington said. He rubbed a tired eye. "But my son and I want to get him to safety. He knows us."
The man nodded. "I'll go get him."
Fifteen minutes later, a tired, limping Laurens crashed into Hamilton's arms. He trembled, thanking them, and crying.
Washington patted his back while Hamilton held him tight.
"We'll take you home with us, John," Washington assured. "You'll be safe."
Laurens drew back from Hamilton and wiped his eyes. "I can't."
"Jack." Hamilton gripped Laurens' hands. "You can't stay here or with your father."
"But I need to go to college. I need a future."
"Like your dad is going to pay for your education anymore," Hamilton said. "Jack—"
"He will to keep me close." Laurens rubbed his eyes.
"That's why you can't stay."
"Alexander is right," Washington said. He drew Laurens away from Hamilton to meet his eyes. "You're being abused and taken advantage of. I can't let that happen."
Laurens closed his eyes. "I can't go with you."
"Jack, come on!" Hamilton pleaded. "You're not safe here."
Laurens backed away from them. "I'll be okay. I'll visit you in three weeks, Alexander. Let me get this figured out on my own. Please."
Washington pinched his lip between his fingers. Every instinct said to grab Laurens and run but he'd fostered too many abused boys to know how strongly they could resist if things weren't done on their terms. But they were also very bad at knowing what was best for them.
"John, we're not leaving without you." Washington reached towards him. "You know nothing good will come of your staying here or returning home."
"Three weeks," Laurens insisted. "Let me get my shit figured out. I'll be safe here."
Hamilton looked to Washington, eyes pleading.
He could hear Hamilton's angry words in his head from when they couldn't find Burr. He needed to save someone for his son but he couldn't kidnap Laurens.
"Three weeks," Washington repeated and held out his hand to Laurens.
Laurens shook it. "Thank you, sir." He turned to Hamilton and kissed him. "Don't panic, okay? I don't have a phone but I will write to you."
Hamilton pulled him close. "Every day, promise?"
"Promise."
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Jefferson worked as a runner at the courthouse throughout the summer and enjoyed every minute he wasn't at home. He had his truck back and knew he would never do anything to lose it or his dorm again.
He picked up Madison one afternoon after work and drove to the beach. They got ice cream and walked in the sand until Madison got tired. Then they sat and watched the waves and kept an eye out for bold seagulls.
"Long time no see," called out a familiar voice.
Jefferson looked over his shoulder to see Angelica and her sisters heading towards them. Eliza was the same age as Madison and little Peggy was eleven All three girls had the same gorgeous dark, curly hair and eyes.
"Hey, Angelica," Jefferson said.
She sat next to him in the sand, tucking her long flowy skirt under her legs against the ocean breeze.
Peggy and Eliza sat next to Madison, and Peggy showed him her bucket of sandcastle-building molds. "Will you help me?"
"Of course," Madison said.
While those three were busy in the sand, Jefferson stood and pulled Angelica up. "Let's go for a walk." He smiled at Madison before they headed toward the water.
"Ready for our junior year?" Angelica asked. She slipped her arm through Jefferson's. "You're loaded down, aren't you?"
"Yeah, and already regretting it." Jefferson picked a shell out of the sand. "Jemmy starts and I know he's going to need a lot of support."
"Shouldn't it be easier than high school?" Angelica asked.
"I don't think so." Jefferson glanced at her. "Washington had a lot of pull in high school to get Jemmy special treatment. He never was marked tardy or had to participate for a grade. He's going to have to enter the real world now. I can only protect him so much."
"He'll be okay," Angelica said. "The social aspect is different. He won't have that stress. I wish he and Eliza had some classes together, though."
Jefferson nodded. "Alexander has a class with him, but I think that's it of people he'll know." He sighed. "I wish he didn't want to go to college."
Angelica rubbed his arm. "We'll all help you. Are you back in the dorms again?"
"To start until I fuck up again."
Angelica pinched him. "You won't. You have James now and you'll get to see him every day."
"Yeah." He bent down to pick up another shell.
They returned to the group and praised the actually impressive sandcastle the three had constructed with five towers, a wall, and moat.
Jefferson handed Peggy the shells and she attached them to the tallest tower. He sat in the sand and wrapped his arms around Madison.
When Jefferson wasn't working, he and Madison learned how to kiss in the bed of his truck as they tried to get brave enough to see each other naked.
Madison propped himself up on his elbows and watched the stars above them. "Are you doing okay with this?"
Jefferson shrugged. He looked forward to their time together but never the kissing he knew Madison wanted but since they spent twice as much time doing what he liked—cuddling and talking—he persevered through the bit of kissing and touching Madison needed.
"It's getting easier." He stroked Madison's cheek. "I probably won't ever request we kiss but I like…" He faltered not sure how to describe how having Madison close to him fulfilled his needs and gave him a certain high.
"Being together?" Madison suggested.
"Yes, but it's more than that." Jefferson pulled Madison into his lap. "Whatever you want to do, Jemmy, I'm willing to try. I want to make you happy. If you're ready to go further…"
Madison ducked his head as a grin spread across his face.
"What?" Jefferson asked.
"I know you dread it, but it's exciting for me to think about." Madison stroked his face. "I do want to have sex with you, but I'm not ready yet."
"Let me know when you are." Jefferson kissed his nose.
"What, you are?"
"I don't think it means the same to me as it does you," he explained. "So I'm never going to be more or less comfortable with it. You're younger so I'll leave it up to you to decide when you're ready."
"Okay." Madison tugged at Jefferson's t-shirt. "Can I see you naked?"
Jefferson grimaced.
"See? You're not ready," Madison teased. "You're not as dead as you think." He tugged at Jefferson's shirt again. "Can I have this at least?"
"Go for it." He raised his arms and Madison stood to pull it off. He lay back on the blankets padding the bed of his truck.
Madison sat across his hips and stroked his chest. "You should play football again."
"Am I not toned enough for you?" Jefferson inquired. He closed his eyes and folded his hands behind his head.
"I want to be the quarterback's boyfriend." Madison kissed his chest.
"I was never the quarterback."
"That's the only position I know." He pressed a hand into Jefferson's taut stomach.
"Jeez, you sound gay," teased Jefferson. "I played defense."
"I don't know what that means." Madison unbuttoned Jefferson's cargo shorts.
Jefferson opened his eyes. "What'cha doing?"
"Seeing how quick you'd flinch." Madison grinned. "I'm going to strip." He pulled off his t-shirt.
"You don't need to—okay…" He looked away as Madison stood and pulled down his shorts and stepped out of them.
Madison moved a bare foot into Jefferson's personal space. "You're okay to try something, right?"
Jefferson brushed his foot aside. "Like?"
"Can I give you a blowjob?"
"No…" Jefferson rubbed his burning cheeks.
"Can you give me one?" Madison moved his foot back.
"Jemmy…"
Madison rolled his eyes. "And you want to have sex."
"For some reason that doesn't sound as traumatizing," Jefferson attempted to explain. "Probably because in my mind we're both still wearing clothes and there is no foreplay nonsense."
Madison giggled. "You're adorable." He sat back across Jefferson's legs and fiddled with the zipper on his shorts. "Can I have these?"
"I suppose." Jefferson lifted his hips off the truck bed for Madison to maneuver his shorts off. "Now what?"
"Hand job?" Madison trailed his fingers above the waistband of his boyfriend's underwear.
Jefferson squirmed at the touch. "Who's hand?"
"Yours?"
Jefferson sucked in a deep breath. "Lay down."
Madison lay down next to him as a quiver of anticipation and uncertainty raced through his slender body.
Jefferson turned on his side and stroked his hand down his boyfriend's chest and stomach, then over his covered crotch.
Madison tensed.
"Stop me at once if you're uncomfortable," Jefferson said. "You won't hurt my feelings."
"Okay." Madison closed his eyes.
Jefferson stroked him through his underwear and slipped his fingers in the opening of the fabric.
Madison's hand grasped his wrist. "Not yet."
Jefferson returned to caresses over his underwear. He used his other hand to pull Madison closer to him giving them more skin-to-skin contact.
"Okay," Madison whispered.
Jefferson slipped his fingers in and stroked the smooth skin and wiry hair.
Madison shivered and pressed closer to him. "Can you go further?"
"No, my hand doesn't fit." Jefferson cringed at the awkward phrase.
Madison remedied the situation and tugged down his boxers.
"Shit, Jem." Jefferson looked away even though it was dark enough they could barely see each other anyway.
Madison moved his hand back. "It's okay."
Jefferson swallowed. "I don't really know what to do."
Madison guided his hand. "Relax and trust me."
A smile tugged at his lips. "I can do that."
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Hamilton would never admit it, but the three weeks did go by fast. He had a stocking job at a hardware store and worked odd hours and overtime when he could. His plan was to save enough for a down payment on a vehicle before school started again. But he took off work on the day Laurens arrived.
Washington drove him to the airport and Hamilton waited at the gate shaking with anticipation. He'd only received four letters from Laurens, although he'd written over twice that himself.
"Where is he?" Hamilton panicked as he searched the crowd. "Are we at the right gate?"
"John said C gate," Washington said.
Hamilton glanced at the large signs to confirm and resumed scanning the rushing crowd. "I see him!" Hamilton darted between several groups of people. "John!"
Laurens dropped his bag and caught Hamilton in his arms.
"Shit, I think you grew," Hamilton said with a grin as he stared into Laurens' blue eyes. "I love you."
Laurens kissed him, hands against Hamilton's face to press him close.
Hamilton shivered and wrapped his arms tights around Laurens. He panted when Laurens' let go.
Laurens smiled. "I needed that." He picked up his bag and took Hamilton's hand.
"Feel a little too clean from church camp?" Hamilton teased. He almost skipped as they returned to Washington.
"Hell, yeah." Laurens squeezed his hand. "Couldn't cuss or drink. Found another gay counselor. Not as perfect as you, though."
"Oh?" Hamilton looked at him but Laurens didn't elaborate.
"Welcome home, John," Washington said and patted Laurens' back. "All good?
"Yes, sir."
Washington led the way out of the airport and to the Cadillac. Soon they were at Mount Vernon and seated at the dinner table to Mrs. Washington's chicken salad on croissants.
Hamilton couldn't take his eyes off Laurens and almost forgot to eat. But it was one of his favorites and he devoured more than he realized.
Once everyone was finished, Hamilton dragged Laurens upstairs. He closed his bedroom door and pushed Laurens against it. He kissed Laurens' lips and ears and neck. He dragged him to the bed. He wanted to talk, ask about camp, about his plans, about his dad but he didn't want to ruin the moment of being together again.
Laurens lay on top, arms tight around Hamilton. They kissed a little longer before stopping in warm comfort of each other and falling asleep.
Washington poured two cups of tea. "Well, Martha dear, we may have gotten ourselves another boy."
Mrs. Washington stirred a little sugar in her cup. "Do be prudent, George. John might be an adult but you know these situations aren't easy."
"Don't remind me." Washington sighed. "I just need things to be okay for Alexander."
Mrs. Washington touched her husband's hand. "I know."
Washington kissed her fingers. "Will you come upstairs?"
"George?" Mrs. Washington studied his slowly aging face.
"The boys are content. We haven't had any time to ourselves in a month." He kissed her hand again. "Bring your tea, it won't take long."
"Alright, George." She stood and kissed him and picked up her teacup.
When the boys woke a few hours later around eleven, Hamilton had to ask, "Why three weeks, Jack? What did you need to do?"
Laurens lifted up Hamilton's shirt and began kissing his chest.
Hamilton pushed him back. "Not until you answer."
"I already had the ticket booked." He pinned Hamilton's arms down and resumed covering him with kisses.
"Stop, John." Hamilton squirmed for release. "I mean it."
"Alright, alright." Laurens rolled off and lay by his side. "I gave what I got."
Hamilton sat up and struggled to catch his breath. "What does that mean? What did you do?"
Laurens patted his belly. "Nothing you need to worry about."
"I'm going to."
Laurens ground his teeth. "Alexander, for real, don't try to involve yourself. I know the situation and I don't need you or Washington interfering and messing it up. Drop it."
Hamilton lay back down. "What about your education?"
"Next semester is paid for." Laurens stroked Hamilton's chest and moved his hand down. "I've started putting money aside for spring and I'll get a job. I'm hoping Washington will co-sign on a loan for me for the next two years. I also plan to switch my major from law to business. I don't think I would make a good lawyer."
Hamilton stopped Laurens' hand from going down his pajama pants. "What about debate?"
"I'll still do that." Laurens tugged at the drawstring on Hamilton's pants. "Please?"
"I'm not in the mood." Hamilton brushed his hand away. "I'm worried about you."
Laurens huffed. "Don't. I'm good. I know what I'm going to do. I have a plan."
"And what exactly is your plan?" Hamilton turned towards him.
"I told you. Change my major." Laurens rubbed his nose against Hamilton's face. "Get a job. Be with you."
"You can be rash."
Laurens rolled away, back to Hamilton. "Like you always make excellent decisions?"
"Jack..." Hamilton rubbed his back. "What exactly did you do?"
"Did your other foster parents ever teach the kids gay slurs to use on you?" Laurens asked in a soft voice.
Hamilton wrapped his arms around Laurens. "No."
"My dad taught my younger siblings. The little ones didn't know what they were saying and stopped when I told them but Erik is thirteen. He knew and he didn't care. I was scared, Alex."
"Then why didn't you just come back with me and Dad?" Hamilton rubbed a hand along Laurens' arm.
"I had to get my shit in order."
"Which meant?"
Laurens wiped at the tears spilling over the bridge of his nose. "I can't tell you."
"Jack." Hamilton squeezed him tight. "Please."
"I pulled a gun on him," Laurens whispered and shivered. "That's how I got him to pay for the next semester."
Hamilton's grip grew lax. "John… Why would you do that?"
"What choice did I have?"
Hamilton sat up and hugged his knees. "We should have made you come home with us." He dug his nails into his legs. "I have to tell Dad."
Laurens sat up, too. "I didn't pull the trigger. He's pulled a gun on me before, too, Alexander. Everything is taken care of. I have a plan."
"You don't, John." Hamilton rested his forehead against his knees. "Do you have a job lined up?"
"Sort of."
Hamilton glanced up. "Where?"
"I'm going to model. I've had offers."
Hamilton gritted his teeth. "I don't like the sound of this."
"Why?" Laurens frowned.
Hamilton remained quiet as he tried to fight with his intuition and not hurt his friend with the wrong opinion.
"Alex?"
"You're vulnerable, John," Hamilton murmured. "I've seen kids in your position taken advantage of and... You're very attractive and you're comfortable with your body. Make sure that it remains your own."
Laurens got out of bed. "You think you know so much because you're a damaged foster kid. Jesus, Alexander." He left the room and slammed the bathroom door.
The hall light flipped on and Washington poked his head in the bedroom. "What's going on?"
Hamilton got out of bed, tying his pants. "I need to talk to you."
Washington stopped a yawn and pointed downstairs. In his office, he sat in his usual chair. "You're worried about John," he stated.
"Yeah." Hamilton remained standing and fiddled with a paperweight in the shape of an apple.
"What specifically?"
"That he isn't making rational decisions." Hamilton bit his lip to stop its tremor. "That he might go down the wrong path."
"I can't work miracles," Washington said. He couldn't hide a second yawn. "John is still going to college. We can keep an eye on him. He's tough. He's been through a lot more than we knew and is doing alright." He struggled to keep his eyes open. "I know you want closure, and assurance that John won't do something stupid but it might be best to let this go or else you're going to risk alienating him and then we can't keep him close or safe."
"He drew a gun on his father," Hamilton blurted.
"I know." Washington took the paperweight from his son's hand. "I am rather disappointed that both he and Thomas decided to take matters into their own hands and risk getting arrested themselves but I don't believe either intends to further a life of crime. I don't condone their actions and I hope, Alexander, that you never feel the need to take matters into your own hands." He rubbed his eyes. "I'm glad John got what he needed but not taking him with us weighs heavy on me and I can't help but think what might've happened."
"Which means we should protect John now," Hamilton said. He moved closer to Washington.
"How? Son, he's not doing anything wrong. He's switching majors and getting a job. He's being responsible. We have to give him his space."
Hamilton pressed a hand against his stomach. "I'm worried about his choice of job."
"Modeling?" Washington dug through some papers on his desk and handed Hamilton a business card. "This is the company he's gotten an offer from. It's legit, reputable. You're not shouldering this alone, Alexander. John means a lot to me, too."
Hamilton nodded. "I just..." He struggled to put his gut feeling into words. That Laurens was so close to done that he might not hesitate to cross the line into a darker career path. "I'm worried."
"I know." Washington opened his arms and settled Hamilton on his lap. "But I think you're projecting some of your fears and pain of losing Aaron onto John. The situations aren't the same. We'll do what we can to protect John but you can't control his every move to be certain he doesn't leave. Do you trust me, Alexander?"
Hamilton nodded.
"Then believe me when I tell you to let John be. Don't stress about what he did or his job choice. He'll be okay. He's safe now. You're safe now."
Hamilton nodded again as his throat tightened. "I'm tired," he whispered.
"Me, too, my dear boy." Washington patted his chest. "We'll get through this. I know we're close."
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Lafayette moved out that summer into an apartment with Mulligan and two other friends. Washington and Hamilton helped him move his bed set, desk, and boxes while Mrs. Washington tidied up the apartment for the boys. It was only two bedrooms but with each of the boys working a part-time job during the school year, they could afford it without worry.
"Remember, Laf," said Washington, as they finished putting the bed back together, "if you need anything, I'm only a call away."
Lafayette nodded, as his eyes grew moist.
Washington pulled him close. "You're a good son," he murmured. "Don't ever forget how much I love you."
Lafayette wiped his cheeks. "I love you, too."
They held the embrace a little longer before Washington let go. "We'll miss you, but I know you'll do fine on your own." He pulled out his wallet and handed Lafayette some cash. "To get you started on an emergency fund. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thanks, Dad." Lafayette dug through one of his boxes and secured the cash in a mini safe.
They returned to the main room where Mrs. Washington and Mulligan organized the kitchen and Hamilton popped bubble wrap.
"Well, my dear," Washington said, "I think we got our boy settled. We raised another fine young man."
Mrs. Washington smiled. "That we did." She hugged him and whispered, "There's a casserole in the fridge for your dinner and cookie dough in the freezer."
"Thanks, Mom." Lafayette kissed her cheek. He turned to Hamilton and punched his arm. "Take care of Mom and Dad for the rest of the summer, alright, little lion?"
"I will," Hamilton said.
They embraced and Lafayette lifted Hamilton off his feet.
Washington clapped Mulligan on the shoulder. "Watch over our boy, Herc."
"Yes, sir." Mulligan shook his hand.
The Washington's and Hamilton headed out and drove home. The dogs greeted them but the house had a stillness to it as if the empty bedroom upstairs somehow made its presence known throughout the rest of the house.
By mid-July, Hamilton began to get some relief from his anxiety and panic attacks. He enjoyed his job, and although it wasn't mentally taxing, it was physically demanding and since he hadn't worked like that since his days on the docks of Nevis, he came home tired and had little trouble sleeping through the night.
The pain was still there, though, in the way he looked expectantly at his phone when it rang and a flash of hope crossed his face, always followed by a sigh when it wasn't Burr.
For Washington, without the demanding schedule of a college professor—and Laurens now safe and living with his maternal aunt just on the other side of downtown—he had too much time to think and worry, and while Hamilton's agitation slowed, his consumed him. Where was Burr? Why had he left? Would he come back? If Laurens was correct about the eviction, where was he living? Did he have enough to eat? Was he out on the streets suffering in the July heat? He couldn't sit around any longer.
After dropping Hamilton off at work, Washington headed towards the sketchy part of downtown and found the Goodwill store Laurens had mentioned. He parked with some apprehension if his Cadillac would still be in one piece when he returned but if he could talk to Burr, he'd gladly trade his car away.
The store was a little run down with worn flooring and dim lights but it was clean and well organized. Washington spotted a young employee near the toy section and approached her. "Sorry—" he glanced at her nametag half obscured by her hair "—Amelia, I was wondering if you could tell me if you know this young man." He showed her the photo Hamilton had taken of himself and Burr when the family had gone out to dinner during winter break.
Amelia nodded. "Aaron. Someone else came looking for him, too, a month or so ago."
Washington pocketed his phone. "We're worried about him. He left college suddenly and we have no idea why or how he is. He's my son's best friend and, well, it's been difficult, to say the least. If you have any information…"
Amelia twirled her hair. "No, sorry."
Washington bit the inside of his cheek. He guessed she had told the same to Laurens. Whether Laurens had accepted the answer or pressed further, he didn't know, but her body language said she knew more. "Please, it would mean the world to my son to know if Aaron is okay or not."
Amelia glanced down at her shoes. "He usually comes in around three," she murmured.
"Thank you. I won't keep you further." He headed towards the front of the store as he checked the time. Forty-five more minutes. He went outside to wait in his car for a half hour, then returned and browsed about keeping the entrance in his sight.
A few minutes after three, Burr pushed open the doors. His clothes hung baggy and his jeans were dirty and ripped. His normally cropped hair had grown into a tangled afro. He made a beeline for the toy section.
Washington spotted Amelia heading that way, too and knew she would try to warn him. He intercepted, making sure Burr saw him coming.
"Give me one minute," Washington said gently as Burr looked to bolt. "I just need to know if you're okay. Alexander misses you."
"I'm fine," mumbled Burr eyes looking past Washington.
"Do you have a place to stay?"
Burr nodded.
It took all Washington's self-control not to grab him, stuff him in the car, and take him home. "Alexander misses you," he repeated. "We're here for you if you need anything." He took a flip-phone out of his pocket and held it out. Since he lost his home, Washington had wondered if he had to sell his phone. "Our numbers are in there."
Burr shook his head.
"Please, Aaron." Washington set the phone on the nearest shelf next to a stuffed lizard. "Take care."
He headed for the exit with a nod at Amelia. He got in his car, cranked up the AC and smacked a hand against the steering wheel. "Fuck!" He should go back in and grab the boy. He was in worse shape than Hamilton had been in the first time Washington saw him. But Burr's walls were even harder to break. Food and kindness had chipped away at Hamilton's exterior but he knew what love was. Washington doubted if Burr did.
He couldn't go back in the store. He had to leave the ball in Burr's court and hope he'd call. By his sorry state, Washington doubted if he'd return to college. A knot settled in his stomach at the thought of the boy having no future, no home, no one. He couldn't... But he couldn't invade Burr's privacy and life either. He left for a reason.
Washington returned home and locked himself in his study. He was still up when a co-worker drove Hamilton home after his late shift ended. He heard Hamilton's footsteps approach and the door creaked open.
"Dad?"
Washington looked away from his computer. "How was work?"
"How come you're still up?" Hamilton asked instead.
He wanted to ask if Burr had called but if his son hadn't mentioned it by now, the answer was no. "Made the mistake of taking a nap earlier," he lied. He stood and moved away from his desk and rested a hand on Hamilton's shoulder. He had spent the day going over the pros and cons of telling Hamilton about Burr. On one hand, at least his son would know Burr was alive but how would he react to knowing Burr didn't want to contact them? He had hoped Burr would call and not put the responsibility on his shoulders. He feared telling Hamilton would just create more questions and hurt. He was doing okay now, why break him again?
"Are you hungry?"
"Starving."
Washington followed him to the kitchen and warmed up leftovers and made tea.
Hamilton talked about his day and how many pallets of wood chips he had had to move with the forklift.
"They trust you with the forklift?" Washington teased, although he knew his son had been certified a few weeks in.
"Barely," Hamilton said. "I've only hit one fence."
"Good." Washington set a plate of meatloaf and potatoes on the table. He buttered a piece of bread while Hamilton dug into the food.
I saw Aaron today, burned on his tongue and he had to remind himself of the pain those words would cause when the follow-up was but he doesn't want to talk to us. The teapot whistled and he busied himself pouring two mugs and adding milk, sugar, and teabags.
"I don't think I'm cut out for manual labor anymore," Hamilton said and showed his blistered hand to Washington.
"Guess you'll have to be a lawyer," Washington said with a smile. He sat and rubbed Hamilton's hand in his.
"I suppose so." Hamilton grinned down at his food.
When was the last time Hamilton smiled so freely? Washington wondered. It was right not to tell him about Burr. He blew on his tea and watched Hamilton finish his meal. When was the last time he had such a hearty appetite?
"Do you think Laf would want to go to the movies?" Hamilton asked. "Maybe the three of us could go?"
"I'm sure he would." Washington's face softened. "You have Thursday off, right?"
"Yeah." Hamilton stood and picked up his dishes. "Thanks for the food."
"Of course, Alex." He finished his tea. "Don't stay up much later." He kissed Hamilton's head and went upstairs.
CHAPTER FIFTY
When the fair came to town, Jefferson planned to take Madison, which quickly turned into the perfect instance for their parents to dump a bunch of younger siblings on them.
Once he got his eldest sister, Jane, to agree to come with, Jefferson grudgingly consented to chaperone his eight-year-old twin siblings along with Ambrose, nine-year-old Nelly, and seven-year-old William Madison.
"Three adults and five kids, this'll be great," Jefferson mumbled to his sister as he started the family van.
"Three adults?" Jane questioned with a smirk.
"True. Two adults, five kids, and a James."
Jane grinned.
The Madison clan waited outside already fighting with each other.
"Don't start, you guys," Jefferson scolded. "Get in the van."
Madison wrapped his arms around him. "I'll make it worth your while tonight."
Jefferson kissed his head. "Good."
Everyone loaded in the van and buckled their seatbelts. Jane did a headcount.
"Are we expected to bring the same amount back?" she asked.
"I hope not," Jefferson replied.
The fairgrounds were packed but Jefferson got lucky to score a good parking spot.
As the kids got out, he gave them a talking to. "You stay with your buddy and don't leave the group, got it?"
The kids nodded.
"Good." Jefferson looked the group over. "Where's Jem?"
Madison popped up from the other side of the van. "I saw a butterfly."
Jefferson groaned. "Don't get lost, babe." He laced his fingers with Madison's.
Jane took William's hand while the twins stayed together and Ambrose kept watch over Nelly.
"What do we want to do first?" Jane asked.
Instantly, she got six different answers. She exchanged a defeated look with her brother.
"We should do rides first in case we win any prizes," Jefferson said.
"But I need cotton candy," Madison whined. He pointed to the cart behind Jefferson.
"Fine. Do you have money?"
"Nelly does."
Nelly bobbed her head and opened her little purse. She pulled out a huge wad of ones and fives.
"Did you rob a bank?" Jefferson teased.
"Bank of Daddy," Nelly said.
Jefferson looked to Madison in concern.
"Dad gave it to her," Madison reassured. "Give me three dollars, Nelly."
"No." Nelly zipped her purse back up.
"You have to share."
"No."
"Stop bickering," Jefferson said. He looked at his sister with a shake of his head. How the families could be so wildly different amazed him. "Give Jemmy three dollars."
Muttering to herself, Nelly counted out three dollars. She shoved them at Madison.
"Be nice," Jane scolded.
Madison grabbed Jefferson's hand and dragged him towards the cotton candy cart.
Once he was satisfied, the group weaved their way through the crowds to the rides. Jefferson and Jane decided the kids could each pick one ride and whoever wanted could go on it, too. Neither of them cared for carnival rides and were content to wait and enjoy the peace while the kids screamed as they spun around or bounced up and down. Madison wasn't allowed on any and instead got Jefferson to buy him a slushy and a churro.
"I want to try fried butter," Madison said swinging himself on Jefferson's arm while Ambrose and the twins rode a roller coaster.
"Nope." Jefferson handed him back his slushy after taking a drink.
"Fried coke?"
"How about you don't have a stroke?" Jefferson tugged his hat down.
Rides finished, the younger kids led the way to the carnival games.
"Duck game!" Nelly squealed and bolted from Ambrose to the pool of bobbing ducks. Madison hurried to join her.
"You have to win that pink bear." He pointed to a large teddy bear with sparkly pink fur.
Jefferson and Jane exchanged a glance well aware of the chances of winning anything but the smallest, cheapest prize on the rigged games.
Nelly paid and studied the ducks. She plucked one out and grinned, it having a rare circle on the bottom.
"Dang," Jefferson muttered as she got her pink bear.
"Win me the purple one," Madison told her.
After a few minutes of careful deliberations, Nelly delivered and was handed the purple sparkly bear.
"Sweet!" Madison squeezed the toy.
Ambrose leaned towards the astonished Jefferson siblings. "Nelly is the card shark of carnival games," he whispered.
"No kidding," Jefferson said. No wonder her dad had given her so much money. She could easily get their worth out of it.
Twenty minutes later, each kid held a large stuffed animal and an assortment of other prizes.
"I gotta win a giant one," Nelly said. "Which one, Jemmy?"
Madison scanned the booths around them and pointed to one that had a large penguin.
"Oooo!" Nelly squealed and hurried over. The game was one of her specialties: picking the right random object. Two tries later (each winning her a good toy) and she lugged the giant penguin over to Jefferson. "Can you carry this?"
Jefferson grinned. "I suppose. We should probably find some lunch and head home soon."
The kids agreed and led the way towards the rows of food carts.
Once everyone had something in hand to eat, the group wandered towards the animals. While they watched the sheep, Jane did a head count and asked, "Where's James?"
Jefferson glanced at his side and swore. "Why am I not surprised he's the one we lost?" His eyes scanned through the crowd but how was he supposed to see his tiny boyfriend? His bright yellow hat was the only thing that'd make him easy to spot.
"Does he have his phone on him?" Jane asked.
"I don't think." Jefferson chewed on his bottom lip. "Shit."
"Ambrose, stay here with the kids," Jane commanded.
Jefferson handed him the giant penguin and hurried off to search. He knew it was most likely that Madison would be sitting somewhere. He looked for benches, as his heart pounded in his chest and his body was suddenly twice as hot and sweaty as before. He kept his phone in hand, in case Jane found Madison first.
Ten minutes later, Jane called him. "Found him."
Jefferson's shoulders dropped down. "Thank God. Meet you back at the animals." He hung up and stumbled to the nearest bench as his legs wobbled. He took a minute to calm himself and hurried back to the corral of sheep.
As soon as he was within reach, Jefferson lifted Madison in his arms. "Did you get tired? You're supposed to tell me when you need to stop. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay." Madison pushed away from him. "You're sweaty."
"Deal with it." Jefferson clutched him tight for a moment and set him down. "Do you want ice cream?"
Madison shook his head.
Jefferson touched his forehead. "Are you sick? What's wrong?" He tuned out the younger three Madison siblings arguing with each other about which sheep was cutest.
"I thought I saw Jonathan Adams," Madison whispered. "I had to hide."
Jefferson pulled Madison back into his arms. "You should have told me."
"I didn't want you to make a scene."
"I'm gonna make a scene." He ground his teeth.
"Thomas. Can we just go home?"
Jefferson sucked in a deep breath. "Okay." He turned to the kids. "Everyone ready?"
"No," Nelly whined. "I want to play more games."
"You won more than enough," Jane said and ushered the children towards the exit.
Back at the van, Jefferson buckled Madison in. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, T."
Jefferson kissed his forehead and got in the driver's side.
Jane counted heads and gave her brother the okay to leave.
As he pulled up emails on his classes for the new semester, Washington's heart beat faster. Listed first on two of his class lists were Burr, Aaron.
His chair smashed into the right wing of his desk as he shoved it back and hurried out of his chair. He opened the door to his office and shouted, "Alexander!"
Hamilton came from the kitchen holding a peanut butter sandwich. "What'd I do?"
"Come here."
Hamilton headed towards him in the office and looked at the screen where Washington pointed. He set his sandwich down, mouth open. "For real?"
"Yes," Washington said. "Lists just went out."
Hamilton sat in the desk chair. "I didn't…" He pressed a hand against his thudding heart. "I didn't think he'd come back."
Washington squeezed his shoulders. After the sorry state he'd see Burr in a few weeks ago, he hadn't thought so either.
"But my request to room with John was approved." Hamilton chewed on his thumbnail. "Where is Aaron going to stay?"
"Let me see. Stand up."
Hamilton let Washington have access to his computer and he checked a few different things. "Looks like he was approved for a single dorm but still in your hall."
Hamilton nodded. It was all good news but he didn't know how to process it. What would happen when he saw Burr again? Would Burr pretend he hadn't vanished for nearly five months or act as if he'd never met Hamilton? There was no way Hamilton could pretend Burr hadn't broken his heart and destroyed his sanity.
"No one knows what happened?" Hamilton asked.
Washington argued with himself for a moment. He could tell Hamilton now that he'd seen Burr back in July but would Hamilton be mad at him for keeping the information to himself?
"I know he and his uncle were evicted from their apartment," he said. "But I don't imagine that was the reason he left college."
Hamilton leaned against the desk chair. "Do you—" he closed his eyes "—do you think he'll talk to me?"
"I think so." Washington turned his chair. "Do you want me to hold you?"
Hamilton shook his head. "I'm okay."
Disappointment crossed Washington's face briefly, not ready for his Alexander to be grown up already. But there was also relief that Hamilton didn't fall apart and had been in control the past month.
Washington patted his hand. "Everything will turn out okay. Is there anything you need before school? You worked hard to get that truck, you deserve something fun."
It wasn't a pretty truck by any means, but Hamilton had managed (with Washington paying for the insurance) to purchase an old Silverado with a newly refurbished engine. While the panels were mismatched and a bit rusted on the outside, it ran perfect and wouldn't require much expensive maintenance for the next few years if he cared for it properly.
"No, I don't think so," Hamilton said. He picked up his sandwich. "My laptop and phone are still practically brand new. Mom got me new clothes and stuff."
"Books?"
"Well…"
Washington chuckled. "I know you have a wishlist on Amazon. Add a few to the cart." He got up from his chair and indicated for Hamilton to sit.
Hamilton settled in the huge leather chair and pulled up his wishlist on Amazon.
Washington poured himself a drink while Hamilton shopped. "Mom will want you home often on the weekends," he said.
"Yes, sir." Hamilton smiled at him. "You should be celebrating being empty-nesters, though. How long has it been since you haven't had a foster teen?"
Washington thought for a moment. "We've had Laf for the past six years. Before him, we had a few short-term fosters. Before those, we'd been pretty booked for the past ten years."
"How many are lawyers?" Hamilton asked.
Washington chuckled. "Four."
"You're a terrible foster parent," Hamilton deadpanned.
"I know, son. Did you find some books?"
Hamilton turned the screen to show him the shopping cart with the five books he's been wanting.
"That's fine. Credit card is under the keyboard." Washington stood and finished his drink. "Get ready for bed when you're done."
"Yes, Dad."
Washington smiled at him and left the office.
