CHAPTER 21

hey guys here's some d r am a

I go back on my decision to leave John's room. I spend four hours in my bed, eyes closed, fruitlessly trying to fall asleep before giving up and returning to John's bedroom. He's lying flat on his back with his blankets up to his waist and his arms sprawled on both sides of him. His eyelashes reach the tops of his cheeks with his eyes closed, and his mouth is half-open as he breathes. I can't stop the smile that slips onto my face. John Laurens looks too perfect right now to ruin the picture, but I'm wearing a T-shirt, so I climb into his bed. He stirs beside me, and I lean over to greet him, but instead of his smile, I'm met with his hand, flying toward my face. Luckily for me, he realizes what he's doing before his palm hits my skin, but he still looks irritated.

"Little fucker," he hisses. I give him my most charming smile and a kiss on the nose.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I was." I don't think I've been in a good mood during even one morning before I came to this school. But now, with John to wake up to every morning, I can't remember a morning I needed more than two cups of coffee to get to class. I let my head go limp on his shoulder, and he doesn't move away. He just shuts his eyes aggressively. I don't really mind; having him here next to me is enough. After what seems like hours, I hear a French accent - Lafayette. Hercules starts laughing, and I suppose John isn't satisfied with his level of annoyance quite yet because he rises from the mattress with an unmistakable glare protruding from his eyes. I scurry back to my bedroom to avoid his wrath.

For once, I get to breakfast on time. John insists that the three of us leave without him, and he silences my protests with another glower. Hercules and Lafayette walk through the halls slowly, poking each other and stopping every few seconds to catch their breath in between giggles. The stairwell is a gross blue-grey color, but there's more comfort in staring at it than watching Hercules and Lafayette delve into their own little world of inside jokes and mischief. The cafeteria is already lively with students talking, laughing, and complaining among their friends. Eliza, Maria, Theodosia, Angelica, and Peggy are already gathered at a table near the hall where we emerge. Peggy has her eyes transfixed by a book's pages, but they're not moving, so I think she's just determined not to notice me. Eliza and Maria are engaged in a conversation about one Dolley Payne except Maria is trying to keep the conversation alive while Eliza seems reluctant about the subject.

I slip off my tie-dye letterman jacket and tie it around my waist before sitting down. Hercules and Lafayette make their way, still laughing and leaning against each other, to the breakfast line, but I have no intention of eating.

"Hey," Eliza mumbles, looking happy to have an excuse to pause her conversation with Maria.

"Hi." I sit in my chair for three more minutes without bothering to strike up a conversation with anyone. Maria and Eliza abandon their dialogue, and Eliza doodles on her arm while Maria applies her lipstick. Angelica suddenly stands up with a stone-cold expression on her face.

"Jefferson. What is he doing bothering that poor Hemings girl?"

"I don't think she seems too bothered." In fact, the girl is staring over Jefferson's shoulder at his best friend, James Madison. A rather short girl with dyed hair that reaches her shoulders, she leans against her friends' table with a dreamy, unfocused expression on her face. You know, I shouldn't really call her short considering my own height (5'5", but I'd call it 5'7") ((A/N: Yes yes his height was 5'7" but he was in high school then)). Jefferson continues to talk at her, towering over the girl with a smirk. Honestly, I pity anyone who has the misfortune to be within fifteen feet of that little shit.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention? We are holding talent show auditions in the choir room on Friday. Good luck!"

The entire cafeteria collectively starts shouting. Hercules and Lafayette sprint back to our table with wide grins on their faces, Angelica begins muttering to herself under her breath, and Maria and Eliza grab each other's hands and twirl their arms around, laughing hysterically. For just a moment, all the noise fades to a soft hum, and the cafeteria is gone. In its place is a vast stage with velvety blue curtains framing it. The curtains split and retreat backstage to reveal two boys in place of them. One has his dark, curly hair tied up with one strand and the other, a head shorter, clutches a microphone in the space between them. They open their mouths and begin to sing, soft and light and beautiful…

The wood of the lunch table has somehow lost its several different hues, and now it's solid, bland, and dull…

John runs up to the table a minute before the bell rings, cutting off his out-of-breath greeting.

"Where were you?"

"I just wanted some alone time. Kind of hard to get around here." I frown, wondering if he's alluding to my staying in his bed this morning, but I don't ask any further questions.

John Laurens

I have already planned out my act for the talent show, and I fully well plan to touch at least a few hearts. By the smile on his face, I'm sure Alex does too. He takes my hand and we start off together down the hall to the hell on earth that is history class. I have yet to experience a unit that doesn't send me spiraling into a slumber. And it's these thoughts, of history class and the horrifically dull rants, that make it so easy for Alexander's next question to catch me off guard.

"John, we should do a duet together. Are you in?" With that, my plans come crashing down right before my eyes. With Alex, sometimes speaking can be like a field littered with landmines. You have to take each step and say each word, with care, or he will destroy you.

"You know what, I actually…" He continues to stare at me with a child-like hope, like a baby wanting to win a cookie from me. "I was going to, um, I will…" I should just tell him now, and save both him and myself from the disastrous scenario playing out in my head. I wonder how he would react if I backed out after agreeing. The next words spill from my mouth all on their own.

"That would be fun," I tell him blandly. A smile lights up his face, and just for that grin, my little white lie was more than worth it. He picks up speed and begins to ramble about his plans and what songs he would most like to do. It then occurs to me that I have never heard him sing.

"What's your favorite song?" I inquire.

"Pompeii by Bastille."

"Sing it." I half expect him to say that he won't, not in the middle of the hall. His voice starts out quiet and scratchy, but as it dips and stretches he fills it with confidence. Alex actually has a very nice voice when he's not wearing it out by yelling at Jefferson. Or Burr, or Madison, or my father.

"Did I do okay?"

"Don't ask me, I've never heard the song… but your voice is beautiful."

He grins, already a blushing mess. I push open the classroom door to allow Alex to enter before me. I can't help but think that maybe I'm only digging myself into another hole. The more I lie to Alex and tell him that I'm completely on board with the idea, the worse it will be when I let him know. But, maybe, the surprise of the gesture I have planned will outweigh the anger Alexander is sure to face when I tell him my plan, and how it isn't to sing a duet with him.

"Thanks, John, do you have a song you want to do with me?" I shake my head, and his smile does not yet waver. I tune his words out and take my seat, bringing my focus around to Mr. Greene, standing toward the center of his desk, engrossed in a book. All I care to pick out is the numerous song titles that Alex has begun to list as the class settles down around us and, finally, his voice fades out with the rest.

At the moment, I couldn't be happier that my friends haven't made their way back to our dorm yet, for it gives me the much needed time to practice the act that I have planned out on my own. I sift through my backpack with hurried fingers, hoping to run the song at least once before my friends find their way home from class. Thankfully, it doesn't take long to find the folder that I stowed away sheets of printed sheet music inside. I picked the song I wanted to sing for my boyfriend in my head, only seconds after the announcement was made and I made no hesitation in printing out the music. After checking my Spotify account, I learn that the song in question is my most recently played. It doesn't come as a surprise; it only makes things easier for me. Upon clicking play, the words start before I can, and I easily fall behind.

I rewind the music, but my practice is cut short as the door flies open to reveal a radiantly smiling Alexander Hamilton. I rush to pause the melody ringing from my phone and shove the crumpled sheet music back into the folder I took it from to no avail. His grin has already vanished, only to be replaced by a look of seething anger.

"John, what the hell are you doing." He sounds like he's struggling to keep his voice even, and rightfully. Maybe I could've handled things better, but maybe Alexander shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. The thought crosses my mind to continue on with my lie, but now it just seems fruitless.

"I'm practicing my solo, Hamilton. I want to sing by myself." I shrink back against the wall as if it could absorb my body and save me from Alex's glaring eyes.

"Solo?! Then why did you agree to sing with me?! You could've said no, I wouldn't be mad. But now I am." For each step I take back, Alexander advances, and soon I know he'll have me cornered up against the wall.

"I thought you would be offended! I messed up, okay? But please just be supportive at least! I'll be supportive of your act; you're an amazing singer, and even if you don't sing, you'll be a star!" I try for a smile as I speak, aiming to lighten the mood and stop this fight before it can escalate any more.

"I don't care what I sound like! I wanted to sing with you. I thought we would be really good together, and you didn't even bother to tell me you wanted to do a solo." I wish he would stop yelling, I'm sure every living being throughout the hall filled with dorms has heard us and either pities the couple fighting just down the hall or has already started laughing at us.