Quicksilver - Jamilton -

Chapter 17: The F-ing Keys

I sigh as I let go of my apron. This shift was tiring! Well, partly because my teachers are cramping all our exams, and I'm not sleeping at all, and also because it was Jefferson's first day of work. Oh boy, he doesn't know how to do anything! For example, he forgot to check the temperature of the coffee he was about to give, and practically burned a customer! Or, he didn't measure well enough and put way too much coffee in it, which must've taste disgustingly bitter. He does a pathetic job as a waiter, writes people's name on the cups like he never learned any expect his own- although sometimes I found him drawings little things on them- always need me to use the machines, and asked me about three times what was the difference between a cappuccino and an espresso. I'm not paid enough for this! Me who thought that he was somewhat competent.

And yet, he seems to be happy about his first shift. Well, not super-duper happy, he, really, always looks a little down these days, but satisfied, maybe? Oh, I don't know.

He steps outside, and I lock the shop, it's already 7 PM. After that, we just awkwardly stand there, not knowing what to do.

"Um, well, have a good evening, Hamilton, I'll get going. Thanks again for all the help!"

"No problem, have a great evening too!" I try to put some kind of energy into my speech, to mimic him a bit. I'll have to use my next free time to rest, I think. I hate to disappoint the gang, though, they probably already have planned something.

I take a public bus, and overlook our group conversation with Laf, Herc, and John. John and Hercules are arguing on whether there are less red skittles than the others, and Lafayette just says that it doesn't matter anyway because no candy will ever compare to the "Fraise Tagada." I laugh out loud and see people glancing at me strangely.

I make my way home, climb the stairs, arrive at my apartment, already ready in my head to make myself some ramens since ma' said she would stay late at work, but when the times come to put my keys into my doorknob, I don't find them.

In my pockets? No.

My school bag? Hmhm, nop.

Anywhere? Yeah, no.

I start to panic, where did I leave them? Where did I last put them? Think, brain, think. Where did I-

Oh, I'm a fucking idiot. Jefferson. I was in a little bitty rush, and he came to me, saying he found keys and was asking if they were mine and I, obviously, said no, since I was sure of myself that I would never lose them. So he said that it must be his, maybe he had dropped them. Fucking, flying, hecking hell. And I don't have his phone number! Great. I won't call ma' just for this, will I? No, no, she's working so hard, I won't disturb her for so little. So I guess I have to go to Jefferson's house. I just hope I haven't forgotten where it is.

So I do the exact same thing, but backward. I hop on a public bus and get off at the stop the closest to where I think it is. What a pricky neighborhood, all with their big houses with pretty gardens. I'm saying this, but I'm a hypocrite because if I could, I would totally buy myself a house here, being the pickiest of all these pricks.

Ah! There it is! The Jefferson's house. All the lights are open, they must be eating.

Okay, so I knock on the door, ask for my keys, and turn back. Yeah, I do that. Simple, plain.

I knock on the door, but at first, my little fist probably isn't loud enough, so I try again, and finally, someone comes to open it.

"Who's knocking like a madman at this hour?" Says Jefferson's mom, opening. "Oh, hello young man, what can I do for you?"

"I'm Jefferson- ugh, I mean Thomas's... friend?" She raises one of her eyebrows, probably confused as to why I'm so hesitant. "Well, anyway, I'm sorry to bother but I-" I see Jefferson peering a bit before widening his eyes.

"Hamilton?! What are you doing here?"

"I was about to say just that before you cut me."

"Excuse him, he has no manners, you can continue, dear."

"Yes! I'm here for my keys. You took them, Jefferson, thinking it was yours."

Jefferson directly knows what I'm talking about, "Oh, I'll go get them." He dashes up the stairs and comes directly back down.

"So you came all this way just for your keys?"

"Huh, yeah!"

"Poor dear!" Says his mom. "Have you eaten something? You don't have a lot on you, are you cold?"

"No, and no, I'm okay."

"Well, do you want to stay to eat? We were just started."

"Um, I don't think-"

"Please, if your parents don't mind! You must be starving!"

In the end, I agree to her. I can't say that I didn't fight it! She leads me to the dinning room, where a big table takes all the place. She gives me a portion of what they eat- pastas of some sort. Wow, I would've expected something fancier, but I guess everyone has a pasta day.

I'm sitting right in front of Jefferson, and his two parents are on the two extreme sides of the table. They don't glance at each other, at all! Or if they do, it's to bicker on something the other said or did. His mom is mostly the one who carries the conversation, whereas Jefferson is seemingly too embarrassed- or awkward?- to talk, and his father in a bad mood. The tension is too real, what the heck.

"So, are you two in the same classes?"

"Huh, yeah, for like two or three classes?"

"Well, there's P.E., English, but that's it."

"And social study!" He corrects.

"We also did an English project together."

"And got the best results of the class, although the average was kinda low, since Mr. Adams is strict as duck."

I wheeze at the expression, which make him glare at me.

We finish eating, and at that time it's already dark outside. Jeff's mom, again, tries to make me stay the night, but this time I use "my mom except me home" card, because it's simply the truth.

Jefferson takes me to the door, and apologetically smiles at me.

"So sorry for the atmosphere."

"Ah, forget it, it's not your fault, is it?"

"And for the keys! Sorry about that too!"

"I ended up eating something other than ramens!" He laughs at my attempts to make him feel better, even if I'm sure he's just apologizing for the figure.

"Hey, um, can I give you my number?" I stare at him, confused.

"Huh... why?" His cheeks slightly tickle with red, as he follows my train of thoughts.

"Well, so if something like earlier happens, you can call me... ?"

"Ah! Huh, yeah, why no? It'd be useful, thanks!"

I pass him my phone, and he does the same. I think for a second and put "awesomeness itself" for my name. When I give it back to him, he laughs a bit and waves me goodnight.

I look down and, at my turn, chuckle at what he wrote.

"Poofy head🐥"