"I am so happy!" Lafayette shook my shoulders from behind as we left the office, startling me slightly.
After typing in his (extensive) name into the school's computer, Mrs. Washington was able to switch me to this "Dorm 51" immediately.
I was about to retrieve my stuffed backpack from under the bench I had been sitting on when-
"Is that all your stuff?" Laf asked me.
I narrowed my eyes slightly, hiking my backpack up over my shoulder. "Yeah," I replied, "And I know it's not much but-"
"Right! I will carry it," Lafayette declared, sliding the backpack easily down my arm and into his hand.
I watched in slight shock as he sauntered off with my stuff, Mulligan following him.
________(-_-)________
"One of the walls is navy blue, and there's two bunk beds with a dresser on opposite sides..."
Laf was describing to me, in minute detail, that is, the- our dorm, I should say.
"Mulligan and I share one," he continued, "and I suppose-"
He stopped with a gasp, startling me. "Ce qui la baise?" He exclaimed, and began to run down the hall.
I followed him, and within a few meters we reached a dark wooden door, the number 51 declared near the top in silver lettering.
My eyes went downward, and met with a sign that had been duck-taped to the door by its corners. It read in a simple but clear font, fags.
That was it, but it seemed enough to get Laf's blood boiling. "Those salauds," he mumbled almost incoherently.
I took it upon myself to rip the paper off the door and crumple it.
"We're lucky John didn't find it first," Laf whispered to Hercules, almost too quiet for me to hear.
"That wasn't even clever," Mulligan mumbled.
"At least last time it rhymed!" Lafayette exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
"What is this?" I asked carefully, examining the ball of crumpled stock paper in my hands.
Lafayette rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Thomas and his band of bigots," he explained, "zhey like to decorate our door once in a while; it is an old tradition."
I raised an eyebrow. Could that be Thomas as in Jefferson? When I saw these two come into the library, the boy they were with didn't seem too pleased with him. And Jefferson's views on homosexuals certainly leave something to desired...
"Oh," I decided to respond simply, walking to toss the paper into a nearby trash can.
"So," I started awkwardly, staring down into the trash can that now held the offensive poster, "are you guys?"
"Are we what?" Mulligan and Lafayette chimed in unison.
I shrugged, feeling increasingly awkward. Laf took his hand off the door handle to let me speak.
"Uh, gay?" I asked, fidgeting a bit and looking around at the walls which now seemed a quite fascinating color.
"Oh!" Laf exclaimed, waving a dismissive hand, apparently not seeing the subject as awkward at all, "that's a bit complicated."
I sighed inwardly; it was quite obvious he was about to launch into another lengthy but nevertheless engaging explanation. "My accomplice here," he put his arm around Hercules, "Is, how you say, 'gay a-f'."
I nodded fervently as Hercules smiled at his friend shyly. "And yours truly is paaaaaan-sexual," Laf said in a sing-song, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Who else lives in the dorm?" I continued to press on.
Le gasp!" Lafayette exclaimed suddenly, and turned to Mulligan, "What about Laurens?"
"Laurens?"
"John Laurens," Hercules explained helpfully, "our third roomie. He's on the bottom of his bunk bed, so I suppose you'll have to top."
"He's a little short to top, isn't he?" Lafayette snickered to his friend, and Hercules rolled his eyes. Mine widened a bit.
"And is he..." I trailed off again.
"Gay? Ha!"
Mulligan chuckled and rolled his eyes again at Lafayette's enthusiasm as he continued; "If you had Zachary Quinto; chaud comme l'ender; and Jonathan Groff sitting on a rainbow, mon amie would still be gayer."
I raised my eyebrows. "Impressive?" I said, it sounding more like a question, and Lafayette laughed.
"While we're on the subject," Hercules raised a curious eyebrow in my direction, Lafayette soon following suit, "what about you?"
"Why?" I laughed nervously, "Does it matter?"
Lafayette hit Hercules softly on the shoulder. "Leave 'em alone, Herculees, it's not important."
As he finally turned away from me to unlock the door, Hercules following, I took the time to think for a second. In America, I deduced, your sexuality influences how you're seen by society; but why should that matter? That question would probably be easier to answer than the next one I had in line for myself: was I straight?
Back in Nevis it hadn't been important because there were no kids my age around; I had no time for 'romantic' pursuits anyway, girls or guys, so I never had let my mind wander to any attractive person. It was embarrassing, but the truth was I didn't know. Laf said he was p- whatever he said, I had forgotten the word, I wonder what that meant.
"Welcome to Dorm 51, Alexander."
(A/N: Hey guys just wanted to let you know that if you read chapter 8 before 12-08-16, I would reread it because I rewrote some of it to portray Jefferson in a... different light. Ikr, all 12 of you that read it, it's crazy. Haha just lettin y'all know)
- Daryn 🏳️🌈🇺🇸