helpless (Lams)

Oh, God, Alex is Dating a Momma's Boy

...

ALEXANDER HAMILTON

FRIDAY, JULY 8

I woke up on a pile of John's pillows to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. From the corner of my eye, I could see that the spot where John sleeps is empty. Putting two and two together, I rolled over on my side and closed my eyes again to try to get an extra few minutes of sleep.

"Rise and shine, peaches!" John pulled the covers back. He leaned in and kissed me on the nose.

"Oh my gosh, John–" I covered my face with my hands. "What are you even doing?"

"We're going out," he beamed. "Now get up, I've got reservations at ten."

"I'm tired," I whined. "And we went out yesterday!"

"But that was just pretend," John pointed out. "Today, Alexander Hamilton is getting a real date," he declared.

I sat up on my elbows and swung my legs over the side of the bed. "Fine. Just give me a minute to make myself more decent-looking."

John smiled and sat down on the foot of the bed. "Take your time, dear," he said.

I leaned back in the passenger seat of Peggy's car (we had to literally beg her to let us drive it until John could get Bessie fixed), relishing in the click of the seat belt.

John reached over and squeezed my hand. "You'll get your flannel back soon, promise," he crooned.

"I'd better," I huffed. He rolled his eyes, smacking me playfully before putting the key in the ignition. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he said, a teasing smile on his lips.

Only once throughout the entire drive did I uncross my arms, and it was for setting the air conditioning. Despite my love for John's flannel (and that I've kind of claimed it as mine), John thought it was too cold, so now he's using it over his black t-shirt as a sweater.

"Alex—" John patted my arm. "We're here."

I looked up at the dingy little restaurant we pulled into ten minutes later, raising an eyebrow. "This place is...nice?" my voice lilted a little.

"It's good food," John said. "My dad took me and my siblings here when I was, like, twelve for a fancy senator party. Don't remember too much of it, though," he prattled, opening his door. "Wait here." I watched him hop out and run around the front of Peggy's car, nearly tripping on a rock on his way. He flung the door open and held out his hand.

"What...what are you doing?" I asked.

"I dunno," John said with a shrug. "Laf told me you're a hopeless romantic, so..." I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.

"You asked my brother for advice on how to court me?"

"Uh, yeah?"

I sighed through my nose and took his hand. "A useful little piece of information: Laf is a snob who left early on his first date with Herc because he paid the bill with coins," I counselled as we walked up to the entrance. "And he just loves to give his two cents on my life choices for some reason, so maybe don't ask him for advice on literally anything."

John nodded. "Got it; Laf's a snob, don't ask him about stuff."

"You can, however, talk about anything else with him. I think I've saved thousands on therapy bills because of him," I chuckled.

"Hey," he piped. "What's with the whole 'you and Laf are brothers' thing anyway? Because you guys look nothing like each other."

Our server showed up before I could respond, with a chipper "Good morning!", and grabbing two menus. "Y'all got a reservation?" she asked. Her name tag read, in big, clear letters; Emma Kate, with a little heart next to it.