Warm In My Friendships
John stared at the slip of paper he'd pulled out of his jeans pocket, his finger hovering right above the button marked "8" on his cell phone.
He ran through the worst-case scenario: John loses all control, Alex is straight and homophobic, and the friendship is lost forever.
Alex wouldn't do that, though... John's finger moved further away from the 8 button, caution and a cold nervousness rushing through him.
He ran through the best case scenario: John manages to keep his control, Alex's sexuality is compatible with John's, Alex likes John back, and the friendship progresses— whether as a friendship or more had yet to be determined.
John's finger edged closer to the 8 button again. After all, it was Alex who'd given his number to John, first, right? This couldn't go wrong.
He hit the 8 button, followed by the one that began the call. With the phone to his ear, John shut his eyes.
It rang.
Click.
"Hello? This is Alexander Hamilton, but if you need to leave a message for anyone here I would be happy to convey—"
"Hey, Alex," John said, his face suddenly splitting into a grin. It had only been one day, but already, John couldn't help but think that voice and even the word choice was just so Alexander.
"John Laurens!" Alex said, delight sending a surge of confidence through his voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
John laughed, leaning back on his bed. He slid the sheets between his fingers. "Well, you had insisted I call you this afternoon, and I am rather devoted to making you happy as of lunch today..."
"Hang on. I'm gonna add you to my contacts... What should I enter you as?"
"Oh. Well, for Lafayette, I think I'm 'Turtle Laurens' with a rainbow next to it, and in Herc's phone I'm 'John Laurens,' but in all caps. With two exclamation points." John clicked a button to put Alex on speaker.
"Turtle Laurens?" Alex laughed. "With a rainbow?"
John flushed. "You don't need to add the rainbow or anything, and the name choice's yours."
"How about I put you in as 'My Dearest'?"
John's jaw practically dropped. "You'd do that for me?" He laughed, if only to disguise his surprise. And, honestly, the concept was amusing, that this could possibly be mutual. Although... Alex did seem to like him? God, John hated when he started to fall for someone, wondering if they felt the same way. Each clue a taunt, each hint blowing completely out of proportion until it became an assumption.
"Of course! I mean, you've been nothing but dear to me all day, John Laurens."
"All day," John teased.
"Exactly!"
"Hercules has punctuation in my contact name," John started, raising his eyebrows and forgetting Alex couldn't see. "Are you gonna add any in?"
Alex was typing. "Hold on... I think I'll put you in as 'My Dearest Laurens'."
"You have other dearests, Alexander?" John laughed. "Of the Laurens variety, particularly?"
"Hmm," Alex seemed to think for a moment, "No. You know, I'll put a comma in there. 'My Dearest, Laurens.'"
John could've fallen off his bed. Somehow he stayed put. "I love it," he said, "Any emojis?"
"We'll see." Alex was smirking, John could tell. "What are you gonna enter me as?"
"Hmm." John took a second to think, opening his contacts and tapping "edit" on Alex's contact information. "How about 'Dear Boy'?"
"Love it! And you should put an emoji. Definitely."
"Which one?" John scrolled through the emojis on his phone, searching for a good one for Hamilton.
"Well, I like the little perfect hand one, and I could go for the eyes, or maybe the speech bubble. Or the pencil. Or... I like the sparkles, the gold sparkles. Ooh. How about that weird-ass frog? Or, my favorite vegetable is the eggplant. That's a good emoji."
John scrolled to the food section, breaking into laughter. "The eggplant? God, Alex."
"Too much?" Alex was laughing, and John noted that the phone speaker didn't do the sound justice. "Then go for the nose emoji."
"What?" John laughed with him.
"Your choice, John!"
John rolled his eyes, adding an eggplant, a nose, and the gold sparkles to the contact. "I put your favorites in your contact."
"My favorites?" Alex laughed again. "What might those be?"
"We'll see," John smirked. He heard a sound from outside, and leaned across his pillow to look out the window overlooking the driveway.
"Oh, shit," John said, clenching his teeth and standing up. "Look, I gotta go, Alex. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" A feeling of giddy recklessness came over him suddenly. "Can I meet you somewhere? The side entrance?"
"Sure! I'd love to. Tomorrow morning, then?"
"That's what I'm talkin' about," John beamed.
"See you then, my dearest," Alex's curiously flirtatious smirk was evident more than ever in his tone, and John allowed himself one more laugh.
"Till then, dear boy."
Click.
John hit the red button to end the call just in time to go greet his father, whose car had pulled up the long driveway just a moment before.
Henry Laurens.
John's father entered through the large main entryway of the house, and, as usual, John was there to greet him and help him carry his bags in. Henry worked as a financial director for a large trading corporation, and often came home late after long days of work, asking for his suit to be cleaned or his shoes to be shined or his car to be washed. And sometimes he would do these things himself, but more often than not, it would be John carrying out these requests as Henry continued work at home.
"Hi, dad," John greeted his father, taking one of his briefcases and preparing to walk it down to the man's study.
"Jack," Henry smiled for a second, and briskly walked to his study down the hall. John followed. "How was school? First day?"
"Yeah," John dropped the bag on a chair by the door, and Henry took his coat off to toss on top. "It was good. I have my class with Washington tomorrow."
"Mr. Washington'll do well for you. Send him my regards, will you?"
"Sure. How was the office, dad?"
Henry sighed, sitting in his low leather chair at his desk. "Decent. Long day, Jack. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like some coffee. And my car ran through some mud earlier, it might need cleaning. Dinner should be together soon, if I can get your sister to help me. Olive can't make it today," Henry said, in reference to the maid he hired some nights.
Ever since John's mother died, Henry had aged significantly, and, although John didn't mind terribly much, he and his sister Martha had taken to helping Henry manage his home life as their mother had before. John wondered sometimes what it would be like for Martha to not have to cook dinners with her big brother several nights a week when Olive couldn't come (yes, John knew that was a privilege of being wealthy), or take care of their other siblings when their father worked long hours. His salary as well as family fortune were solid in placing the family in the upper class, but John couldn't help but wonder what Martha would have been like, had his mother not passed away.
"That's okay. I'm sure she'll help out," John replied, moving to leave the study.
"Thank you, son."
"I'll clean the car for you. And maybe I'll ask Martha to make your coffee." John looked down.
"Thank you."