An Opened Door

Chapter 7: Repression (And Laurens' Tidy Whities!)

Hey, so I cranked out a seventh chapter. Everything's going good at this point, I'm really anxious to start getting into Lams but I have to let it feel natural so it's coming soon, I promise! I hope you enjoy! Favorite it if you like it, it really helps!

I unlock the door to my apartment, and open it with the key that I shoved in my back pocket. Stepping in, I throw it down onto a desk near the door. Alexander follows behind me.

"Welcome," I say, spreading my arms out, "To my humble home. Well, not so humble. My father insisted on going all out." I say, my cheeks heating. I usually don't let any of my friends into where I live, and especially not where I sleep, I've never been allowed by my father to do the latter, for...reasons.

"Yeah, no shit, this place is huge. I'd be concerned about what your income source is if you could pay for tuition and afford this place." Alexander looks around, in awe.

"So, you ready to help me unpack?" I ask him, clapping my hands and looking at the suitcase I brought and the suitcase that was delivered from the aiport and the backpack I had. He looks, as well.

"Yeah, sure. Never been readier in my life."

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"I have never regretted anything more in my entire life." Alexander says after we've finished unpacking and spreading and dusting every last item in the aparment. It hadn't been that bad, of course, because we'd both been talking each other's ears off wih random useless facts about ourselves the entire time and making terrible jokes. I zip up my backpack and shove it into my closet as Alexander sits on a chair near my bed, lightly sweating.

"Dude, why are you sweating? I asked you to nail one clock to the wall." I laugh, throwing a water bottle at him. He catches it and somehow manages to drink from it indignantly.

"Fuck off, I had to stand on your roller chair—by the way, how did you even get that? Did it just come with the apartmen—and that meant I was twisting and turning the entire time and I had to jump to reach the place you wanted me to. Makes a person sweat." Hamilton says, putting the water in his lap and stretching his arms. The sleeves of his red T-shirt fit a little too snuggly, and I turn around, pretending to busy myself adjusting the alarm clock on my dresser.

"Hey, I was wondering, since we're best friends now—" he begins, and I snort. I can almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"No, we're definetely best friends. I put away your underwear. Nice tidy whities, by the way." Hamilton says, and I turn to him, turning red.

"One pair." I say, holding back an embarrased laugh.

"Anyway, Lafayette didn't get the chance. All he got was a lunch date. Which, technically, I initiated. So, why not have a movie night? We can watch, like, Casablanca or 21 Jump Street or The Notebook, whatever you like. Classes don't start until Monday, anyway." Alexander stops to drink from his waterbottle, and Laurens considers it for a second. Eventually, he acquiesced.

"Yeah, okay. That actually seems like fun. Do you have Lafayette's number?" I question, and hamilton takes his phone from his pocket.

"Yeah... I do... I'm putting you guys in a group chat with me right now. Actually, John, do you wind if I use your shower really quickly? I'm gross right now." Alexander says it like it's nothing, and I'm taken aback for a second. I've never really had a good friend or a good... anything that I shared anything with. I don't think anyone except me has ever used my shower back in South Carolina. Except for maybe the girl that I dated for senior year because my dad wouldn't let me play football if I didn't have a date to the prom.