Quicksilver - Jamilton -

Chapter 38: turtle scientist

"Well, at least it's pretty?" He glances at me to see if his argument work.

"Ugh, doesn't change anything to me. It's cold, so I hate it."

Alexander and I are looking out the window, and at the horrible sight of snow that's pilling up outside.

He chuckles a bit. "You really don't like the cold, huh?"

"Nop." I exaggerate the "p" to show just how much I dislike it.

"Let's take the bus tonight, I didn't think it was going to snow so I didn't dress appropriately."

"Hmm, yeah same."

It's been a week since we first started to walk together, but it feels like forever. I really like having those moments with him to just chat. Sometimes I need to go practice, or he has something to do so we can't do it, which sucks but, what can you do, you know?

We separate, him to go to creative writing and me art class. I would have preferred to also take creative writing, but mom wanted me to try something new (I pouted about it for days). Our project about color theory just finished last period, so I wonder what we're going to do today. I hope it's not something about perspective, my mind always just abandon, and I end up making shit when that thing is brought up. 

After the bell rings, miss Washington (with the same kind smile she always has) explains that she's going to put us in teams of two for a collaborative exercise. We're gonna have to imagine a character design and a story for said character. Dismissing the clear disapproval of the student in the class, she's going to make the teams. 

So (with the same but now more cruel-looking smile) she put me in team with Laurens. 

Laurens, for god's sake!

The guy that seems to hate me more than anything! And even more since the whole Hamy-punching-Laf thing. Now he glares at me every time he sees my face as if I killed his cat or something. What did I do?! Does he think I'm behind all this? That I'm the one who said "Go make some trouble, Alex" and that Hamilton would listen to me? If he wants to be mad at me for no reason then I'm gonna do the same! Two can play at this game, mister!

My feet storm to where he's sitting as I try my hardest to look exasperated. He slowly raises his gaze to meet mine. 

"Hello, Jefferson."

"Hello." 

What do you do next in this kind of situation? Do I mumble how much I dislike being with him?  Send him an insult? Continue to glare and sit down? How does he do it?

Let's take the last option. That'll show him that I'm mature, but I still don't want to be here. 

"So, do you have ideas-" I start, with an annoyed tone. "Whoa, that's pretty cool. Did you draw it?" Welp, I tried, but can you really blame me? There's like, a masterpiece just there in front of him, I can't not say something about it.

"Hmm, yeah? It's my pet turtle."

"God, it's amazing! It almost looks real."

"That's what I was going for, realistic."

"You're really good! I wish I could draw like that."

His cold glare is replaced by a smirk. "Even if you tried you couldn't, I mean I saw your projects, and let me tell you, there's a lot to work on."

"Oh? You saw my projects? I thought you were sleeping while I presented them?"

"Nop. Was totally captivated by your amazing art, and I don't always sleep in class, okay? That's a superpower that I don't have yet, sadly."

"Talking about amazing art, what are we going to do?"

"For the stupid project?" His eyes scan the room as if searching for the answer. He ends his gaze on his drawing. "Could do a turtle master? Or a turtle crazy scientist?"

"... Are you twelve?"

"Hey! It's a very good idea! Just imagine, a man who loves turtles more than anything end up in an accident and lose his best friend: Garry, a beloved turtle who was always there for him. He starts searching for a way to get his friend back, even if he'll need to kill to get to his ends."

"That does sound, er... not bad? We could also make a cool design."

"So we're doing this?"

"... Sure? Why not, I mean, I don't have anything better."

"Yes!" he fists pumps the air "Okay, let's start working on what he's gonna look like. I'll go ask for sheets."

I try to concentrate on the task, but my mind is blank, and I lack creativity right now. In comparison, Laurens looks like a mad man, furiously scribbling and sketching on his paper. I'm bored. This is boring. I check the clock, there's still 30 minutes to go, dammit.

"Whatcha drawing?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm testing some stuff, you?" He looks at my untouched paper. "White-page syndrome?"

"Maybe?" I exhale loudly. 

"Try to draw things you think of when you hear 'crazy turtle scientist' that'll make your head start running."

"You get that often, like white-page syndrome?"

"Yeaaaah, I think everyone gets that at some point." 

"Hey, I've got a question."

"Yes?"

"Are you mad at Hamilton? I know you didn't talk to him since, you know, I also know it's none of my business but... I've just been thinking about it."

"You're right, it's none of your business."

I return my head to my paper, thinking the conversation's finished.

"... But no, I'm not mad at him." He mumbles.

"You're not?"

"No, okay!"

"Then, why aren't you talking to him?"

"'Cause you're always there!"

"What? That doesn't mean you can't talk to him?"

"Why isn't he talking to us, huh? He's the one who started this anyway. Instead, he's just ignoring the whole thing and replaces us with you and your little gang."

"Come on, you know that's not true!"

"If it's not then he should talk to us. Laf' would accept his apology right away, and everything would be fine again, but noo. Ham prefers Jefferson. I'm not talking to him first, he's the one who's gonna have to do the first step. End of the conversation."

Okay, well then... I should not ask those kinds of questions again. 

Should I tell that to gremlin? That he's gonna have to do the first step? But... He looks so bad, these days, worse than before. I don't want to put more stuff on his shoulders.

I hope it's the right decision.