What if it's us, and only us?

Chapter two

NOTE: Hey, so I know its not great (I've read enough to know what's good and what not, and on a scale from good to shit it's leaning towards the shit side) but thanks for reading it anyway. I wish there was a job where I could just like supply story lines for authors and then they can make it good, because I know I can't. Anyway, enjoy! ❤️

Tate 

"I bet you would help me if my name was Sebastien and I had a cool Jamaican accent!" Tomatoa is saying on the tv screen. I know I should be sleeping and not watching moana for the millionth time but I couldn't sleep, okay? And moana is literally the best movie ever made. I mean obviously seeing as how Lin-Manuel Miranda is a gift from god. And yes I know I have classes in the morning and that I'm gonna hate myself for not sleeping but after Toppes (which is most definitely not his real name, although I don't know what is) fell asleep I decided to explore a bit.

I mean seriously who can blame me, the guy was sitting criss cross applesauce wrapped up in a thick blanket crying to the bee movie at 1 in the afternoon when I got here. I'm curious. I discover that he's a new recruit to the football team and that his first practice is tomorrow morning. I discover he's adopted, based on the family photo sitting on his desk. I discover that his favourite NFL team is the Kansas city chiefs because of the poster he has above his bed. I discover all this but there's something missing, but I can't figure what.

And so I'm awake restarting moana for the third time tonight at two fifty two am when I hear strangled breathing coming from the bed next to mine. At first I think that Toppes is awake and just like sick or something, but the it starts to sound more like crying, and when I call out he doesn't answer.

I quickly make my way over to his bed and try to shake him awake but he just seems to freak out more in his sleep, so I change tactics and start slowly rocking him back and forth and reassuring him that its ok. That I've got him.

Suddenly his breathing steadies out and he looks up at me with scared eyes. We just look at each other for a minute until he looks away breaking the silence.

"Thanks" he says so quietly I'm not even sure he said it "What time is it?" Louder this time

I check my watch then tell him. Then I feel the need to let him know that, "You still have a couple hours till you have to get up for your practice"

Then because I don't want him to question why I know that he has practice in the morning and what time its at I keep going "Do you wanna try to go back to sleep or do you wanna watch Moana with me?"

Then because he might feel like he's interrupting my movie : "I just started it so I can rewind it, but if you want to go to sleep I could turn off the volume.

Then because I don't want to make him feel bad if he wants me to turn off the volume: "I don't need to hear it, I know all the words"

His face goes through a couple emotions before relaxing and telling me " Um, yeah no I guess I'll watch"

And then I don't even know how it happens but I'm on my bed watching Moana trying so hard not to sing along, because there's a hot footballer curled up in a ball beside me, and whenever I forget he's there and sing along he lets out the cutest little chuckle.

On my way to physiology 101 or whatever its called I play the Come From Away original broadway cast recording through my skull candy headphones as loud as I can trying to block out the thoughts bouncing around my head non stop. All day it's been a never ending cycle of "do you think he'd want to watch more than just moana with you? Even when he hasn't just had a nightmare you had to shake him awake from?" And "he probably didn't even like watching that with you. He probably thinks that you're dumb and immature for watching a kid movie enough times that you can watch it without audio and still know what's going on".

After my physiology class I head back to the dorms to go make crappy noodles via el microwave, where I find Toppes,

"Hey Pudding boy. Sup?" He greets me, and only then do I realize that How Far I'll Go is playing in the background.

It does something to me that I'm not gonna address right now. Instead I lift may Mr. Noodles packet and ask if he wants any

"Sure, what flavour is it?"

"Beef. You wanna watch Come From Away? It's been stuck in my head all day,"

"What's that?" He asks and I can't help but gape at him before I remember that of course he hasn't ever seen Come From Away; he's a football player.

I close my jaw and answer him "The second best musical ever made, coming second only to moana."

"Oh. Yeah of course then" He sits on the floor in front of the Tv in a straddle position with his bowl of crappy noodles between his legs, chop sticks in his hand, trying to figure out how to hold them right.

I take them from him and place them back in his hand the right way and then show him how to move them before kneeling beside my bed and grabbing my laptop and dongle from my backpack. I set it up and hit play before grabbing my bowl from the counter and seating myself down beside him.

While the opening plays— the part where it's showing those glass stairs in New York and the outside of the theatre— I ask him how his practice was.

"It was good. I think last night I just worked myself up for no reason. I do that sometimes"

I briefly wonder if he's this open with everyone he meets, before it's cut off by him asking "How did you know about that by the way?"

"Ok so I'm gonna be fully honest with you right now 'kay? Kay. I was snooping and I checked out your schedule. But the only reason I was snooping is because when walked in here yesterday you were watching the bee movie and crying while wrapped in a blanket— which is nothing to be ashamed of! It just made me curious"

By the time I'm done ranting his cheeks are bright red and he's staring at the people of Gander singing their hearts out like its his job.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have gone through your stuff. It wasn't cool of me"

It seems to shake him out of his trance, and he completely changes the subject, "So what is this about then?"

It takes me a second to figure out that he's talking about the musical playing in front of us.

"Oh yeah right, so basically it's about, well you know how after 9/11 over 200 planes were diverted because the American airspace was closed? And how 38 were sent to Gander Newfoundland? It just about like how they felt with it and the hospitality all the "plane people" received when they arrived,"

When I say this he looks over at me and says "Hmm. You know my aunt actually was flying on 9/11 and her plane got diverted there? You know what? I actually think she went to the premier or something of this,"

"Wait what's her name" I ask because I swear to god if he says who I desperately want him to say I'll full on scream.

" Uh, well I call her Aunt Bev but her—"

"YOUR AUNT IS BEVERLEY BASS?! Are you shitting me?!" I scream

"No? I can call her right now if you want?"

I might faint. This boy is acting like having fucking BEVERLEY BASS in his phone, isn't a big deal. Like "oh yeah, let me just call her real quick". BRO. What!

"Are...are you ok? Did I break you?"

"No nothing I just...I'm gonna need a minute to process"

Turns out a minute is longer than a minute. In fat it lasts until he figures out why I was freaking out and says "Oh. So you were freaking out because she's an icon in this musical. That makes more sense" and all I can do is absently nod.

About ten minutes later I guess it's obvious how badly I want to sing along because he pauses it to tell that "You can sing it you know. My best friend Briar would and she's a terrible singer. She might be the worst ever to exist. So like, you can sing"

And so I do.