Kings College (Philidosia/Phildosia Fan Fiction)

Chapter 29

I walk home in silence, my feet killing me and a headache just waiting to finish me off. All I want is to close my eyes, yet I'm not given that privilege. I was walking home from my daily lessons with Philip, having already changed into my normal attire I had brought in a bag. Normally I wouldn't do this, but when I tripped and my hat fell off, revealing my hair, I decided it was best bringing female clothes. I yawned, watching the sunset from the corner of my eye as I trot home. Before I go home, I make a quick detour.

"Hello, welcome to William Quinn's First American Post Office, how can I help you?" I grin. They have never changed their introduction and it's been over six months. I shake my head slowly, ignoring my stupid smile.

"Hi, may I get the mail for the Burr residence please?"

The woman at the counter nods, recognising me, so not questioning a thing. "You haven't gotten your mail since the 10th, it's been ten days. Has our Monday service failed you?" She asks when returning from the back.

"Oh no! It's been great, I just wanted to grab it in person this time."

The woman gives me a weary look but hands over the three letters anyway. I smile when I receive them, then rush from the store with a frown. The warm summer's breeze lifts my sad expression into a happy one. While I can't say I feel energized, the feeling is one that I simply can't replace. Winter is amazing but summer is better. By far. I close my eyes for a second to smell in the scent of trees and flowers.

Naturally, being me, I bump into someone. They nearly cause us to fall, and I'm clutching their back. When I open my eyes, I snort. John Payne Todd. Remember him? Jefferson's little spy. And to think he's still here.

"John? My, my, I didn't think you'd show your face!" I smile, removing myself from him. He grins back, staring at the ground.

"Appears so." He nervously laughs, his cheeks flushing.

"So, how's life treating you in New York?"

"So, so. Could be better." John mutters quietly, glancing to the side.

I make a gesture with my arms. "What's gotten into you? Last time I met you, you were flirtatious and confident. Did something happen?"

John smiles. "I don't know. I met this girl, and she said she wasn't into loud guys."

"Oh, I see. Well, I think you should stop."

"What?"

"So what if she doesn't like loud guys? If you are a loud guy, embrace it. Learn to not be obnoxious, but don't go instant quiet and shy guy. If she truly liked you, she would accept the loud." I give him a pointed look.

"But I really like her. I would love for her to be my wife someday." He persists.

"And that might not happen." I sigh. "She will love the real you. You want her to marry you, not your image. If she's not willing to accept that, it's her loss. You'll have to get over it."

"But-"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Since when was I his motivational coach? "Fine, fine. You want to get your heart broken and live a loveless marriage, fine by me. Don't come crying to me when it's all crumbles to pieces." I walk away, taking a deep breath.

"Just," I turn to look him in the eyes. "Tell her, any girl would be lucky."

"She's married."

"To whom?"

"I don't know. He lives in England and sends her money for 'child support'. As if 3 shillings covers a mom and a child! I worked at homeless shelter and her and her daughter came in from time to time." His eyes smiled, if that's possible. Love seemed so real in him. "She was so beautiful, covered in rags yet remaining goregous. The rags she had was a small thin dress covering her, whereas her coats were used to bundle up her baby girl. Her husband... that bastard!" His fists turned white. "Only married the poor girl to not soil his reputation. Not his fault he impregnated her, he should have just given her money so she wouldn't have to damn prostitute."