Orphanage AU: Lams

Chapter 6: A chapter. In which there is a party

Thank you for reading!! I know the edits went crazy- I combined and consolidated, so the chapter numbers will be really off soon- don't hate me, I'm just too lazy to go back and change the chapter number on all the chapters...

---John's POV---

Alexander pointed to yet another kid. Jared, Evan, Alana...

"Zoe, who's a bit artsy in her own way."

"Yeah," I noted, "I like her." I ran my finger over the inside of my wrist, tracing the hypothetical bracelets on my own arm. Alexander flinched in the corner of my eye. I glanced at his arms, but they were clothed by his long sleeved sweater.

"Theodore," He pointed to a young African American boy with a thick book in his hand, "quiet, a bit shy, very kind, and very smart."

I liked him too.

A boy with freckles, green eyes, and a thick ponytail of curls just like mine bounded past us in a green T-shirt.

Alexander called him over, waving a hand, "Philip! Come meet your future self!"

Philip bounced over, eyes wide, giggling. I smiled down at him. "You weren't kidding," I remarked, astonished, "He looks just like me."

Not the slightest bit shy, Philip chanted,

"My name is Philip,

I am a poet,

I wrote this poem just to show it,

And I just turned nine,

You can write rhymes but you can't write mine!

I practice French and eat baguettes with Lafayette,

That guy looks like me but I haven't met him yet."

(Guys I can't do this. Fuck.) Scrambling to rhyme, Philip began varying the syllables and rhythm.

"I really am trying my best to rhyme,

At the end of each and every line,

But the scary truth is I'm flying blind,

And I'm making this up as I go!"

Philip giggled at my dumbstruck expression. "Who are you?"

"Now you know why he's my favorite."

"Yeah," I replied, "he reminds me of you." I blushed, looking at him through the corner of my eye. "He's really smart, quick thinking and friendly..." I ducked my head.

Alexander blushed crimson.

---Alex's POV---

Get out butterflies. I scolded my stomach. They fluttered more.

"What's the passcode?" John apprehensively glanced at the keypad on our door.

"5-29-51," I recited easily with a soft smirk at his panicked expression. "You would also use your key. Here, I'll write it for you."

I quickly jotted down 5-29-51, then scribbled down my number and shoved it in his hand, mumbling, "Here." All he'd asked for was the passcode. To your dorm... I thought unnecessarily.

"Hey, Alexander..." I heard John's muffled voice through the wood of the door. "Is this... your phone number?"

"Yeah," I replied clearly.

John grinned. "Thanks! I'll enter it right now!"

I sagged with relief, musing over why I'd created such an intensely awkward moment over a phone number situation. No one else had ever made me so frantic or nervous.