Alex considered the clothes hanging in his closet. What does one wear to a dance? It's not like there were many dances at the schools Alex went to at his old foster families' neighborhoods. He pushed aside his old t-shirts and considered his one button-down. It was fine, he supposed, but weren't dances really fancy? Or was that just prom?

Sighing, Alex was forced to admit that he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

"Ms. Ross?" He called into the hall, "Can you help me with something?"

Betsy Ross walked into his room. She was an older woman, a seamstress working from home ever since her husband passed away a few years ago, "Alexander, how many times have I told you to call me Betsy?"

"Ms. Ross, how many times have I told you to call me Alex?"

She smiled. "What can I help you with?"

Alex shuffled his feet. "What do you wear to a school dance? I mean, I have a general idea but I don't really know; I don't want to be over-dressed but I don't want to be under-dressed, like what if I wore a suit and everyone was in t-shirts? Or if I wore a t-shirt and everyone was in floor-length gowns? I dunno, Ms. Ross, I don't have much experience with dances."

Ms. Ross looked like she was about to starts laughing, a wry smile on her face. "Alexander, it's not that hard." She wiped her hands on her shirt and walked over to his closet, "This button-down is fine, and I might have a jacket for you somewhere."

Alex smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Ms. Ross. I think Lafayette will be here to pick me up in a few minutes."

Ms. Ross's eye lit up. "Oh, Marie-Joseph! Wonderful! I have a few pieces for him to pick up."

Alex blinked. "Marie-Joseph?"

"Marie-Joseph Paul Yves...you know, I think he goes by Lafayette or something at school—"

"Wait, Lafayette's name is Marie-Joseph plus twenty other things? That's so great!"

Mrs. Ross laughed. "Don't tell him I told you."

"Of course not. I'll just send him secret texts from an untraceable number."

"Alexander, be nice."

"Sorry, Mrs. Ross."

Mrs. Ross tossed him a black suit jacket. Alex pulled it on. It was a bit too long in the sleeves, but it didn't fit all that badly. Alex let the sleeves slip to cover his hands, which reminded him of wearing comfortable hoodies. Back in Saint Kitts, his foster father let him borrow hoodies all the time. That had been nice.

And then, of course, his eyes were watering again. Why do I do this to myself? "Thanks, Mrs. Ross."

"Alexander, how many times do I have to tell you…"

"Sorry! Betsy." Alex gave a small laugh. "Do I need, like, a tie or something? And are these shoes okay?" It was nice living with a fashion expert. Alex had a feeling that no matter what he wore, Lafayette would find something wrong with it. Still, he at least wanted everyone else to like what he was wearing.

"No tie. Shoes...do you have anything else...why didn't I buy you anything else?!"

Alex went red. "Mrs. Ross, it's really fine…"

"No! I should have bought you another pair of shoes! Maybe you can wear one of the old pairs, the ones in the attic...still. They might not fit."

Alex looked down at his beat-up pair of red sneakers. "I think that these work. They're...flashy."

His phone buzzed.

Laf: I'm here

Laf: Get in loser

Laf: Wait no that was mean

Laf: I'm sorry

Laf: FORGIVE ME

HMul: Laf u fuckin nerd

"Gotta go." Alex kissed Mrs. Ross on the hand. "Thanks for your help."

"Have fun!"

Lafayette's car was outside. Alex was still sort of amazed by it. It was dark blue, with a sheen that never seemed to go away no matter how long it went without a wash. It looked fancy, and Lafayette had told him with a red face that his family was one of the ones that actually belonged in Yonkers in terms of money. The license plates were New York. The bumper stickers were French. Est Détruit—Get wrecked. Olympique Lyonnais. Paris Pour Toujours—Paris forever. Nous bavardons pour les oies!—...we honk for geese.

Huh.

"Mulligan likes horses, you like geese?"

"Guilty."

Lafayette grinned at him, his smile practically luminescent. His hair was back in its traditional ponytail, but his normally escaping bangs were slicked back. He had skin-tight blue pants with brown knee-high boots, and a purple shirt with ruffles along the collar. It was a weird outfit. It looked great on Lafayette.

"Well, you don't look awful," Lafayette said.

"Thanks."

"And someone's gonna like that shirt."

Alex went red. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have anyone that you plan on dancing with tonight?"

"Apart from everyone at school?" Alex stuck out his tongue at him, and Lafayette laughed. "There's a girl. She lives in France."

"Laf! That's awesome!"

"Did you not hear the France part?"

"Do you talk with her much?"

"Yeah."

Lafayette told him more about the girl, Adrienne, as they made the drive to Continental High. The front of the school had some holiday lights thrown over it haphazardly, but it was kind of festive, and Alex at least enjoyed the effort. They entered the school, and as they neared the gym, music became more and more audible.

"Yo!"

It was Mulligan. Alex grinned, and he and Lafayette made their way over to Mulligan and Laurens. Mulligan had his signature hat on, with a letterman jacket over a button-down blue shirt and some dress pants. Lafayette punched him in the shoulder. "Footballer."

Mulligan punched Lafayette back. "Nerd."

"Loser."

"Hah."

Alex went red as he looked at Laurens. Laurens looked like he was performing in a concert or something like that. So adorable—what the fuck is wrong with me?! Laurens saw that he was looking and laughed. "My dad takes this stuff way too seriously."

"You look...great."

Hamilton's face was totally red, and Laurens started blushing too. He didn't plan on dancing with anyone tonight. Dancing with anyone was too painful at this point. Dancing with girls reminded him that he was still trying to pass as straight to most people. And dancing with boys...what if it got back to his father?

Still, as he looked at Hamilton, Laurens almost hoped—

No.

This wasn't his time.

He just had to get out of Yonkers. He had to wait to graduate and then he would move to New York and find a way to support himself. Laurens would never answer to his father again.

He plastered a smile on his face. "Ready to go in?"

The four of them entered.

Some 60s music was pumping around the room, probably the only music that King would allow played, and while Hamilton didn't mind the Beatles or the Yardbirds or Faces, after King's little song, the music made him feel as if someone was planning an assassination on him. But there were refreshments along one end of the room, cookies and drinks and—

"Pizza. Pizza, pizza, pizza," Mulligan crooned.

"Sprite," Laurens said.

"Let's go." Hamilton led them over to the table. People were dancing all around them. He couldn't see Aaron. The Schuyler boy who was in his class was talking with two girls, both of whom resembled him. Alex had heard rumors of the Schuyler clan before, and those were probably two more of them.

When Alex looked back at his friends, there was a girl talking with Mulligan. Alex had not heard her approach and realized that either he had been zoning out too much or that the girl was good at sneaking up on people. "Who…"

"Sampson," Laurens said to his unasked question.

"The girl?"

The girl looked up. "Deborah Sampson," she said to him, offering her hand. Alex shook. She had a firm grip. "And Hercules owes me a dance."

Mulligan had his hand firmly clamped over Lafayette's mouth, but Lafayette's eyes were curling like they did whenever he was grinning. "Alexander Hamilton," Alex introduced himself. "Nice to meet you."

"You too."

As soon as Mulligan and Sampson had begun dancing, Lafayette let out a laugh. "Yeah, Herc!"

Laurens snorted. "I thought that you two…"

"One time thing, mon ami."

"Wait, what?" Alex cut in.

"They kissed once," Laurens told him. He was getting red again, and he hated himself for it. Hamilton was probably straight, and Laurens had no right—no right—to be liking anyone when he knew that there was no chance at him having a relationship with anyone until high school was over. And Hamilton deserves more than that.

"Don't tell Herc we told you," Lafayette said.

"What is it with Mulligan? I thought he was a jock-type, but Mrs. Ross knows him for some reason, and now you two kissed…"

"He knows Mrs. Ross 'cause he used to take sewing lessons from her," Lafayette told him. Laurens shifted uncomfortably. What Lafayette was telling Hamilton wasn't damaging in any way, and Laurens doubted that Mulligan would care. Still, he disliked it when people spilled other people's personal information. He knew that Lafayette wouldn't hurt him. But still…

"That's...awesome."

"That's why Debbie likes him. She's way too good for him, if you ask me, but…"

"Don't say that," Laurens objected. "Mulligan is awesome."

Lafayette shrugged. "Alright."

"Welp." Hamilton held out his hand to Laurens, and Laurens's heart began to race. "Wanna dance?"

Laurens didn't hear his own response. It was probably something horrible like ummmm...uhhhhhh.

"He accepts!" Lafayette took Laurens's arm and gave it to Hamilton, then spun away. Literally spun. Like a ballerina.

Laurens was still totally red. "Sorry...I…"

"I'm so sorry!"

Hamilton was the one who was red now. Alex couldn't believe what an idiot he was being, doing this to Laurens. "I'm so sorry, Laurens. It's just...I don't know if you know, but I'm bi, and like, sometimes I guess I forget that not everyone is like I am! And you're probably straight, oh my God, I'm assuming shit, I'm such an awful person, the point is, I'm really sorry! And you're not obligated to dance with me or anything and we'll always be friends! Hopefully! Unless you don't—"

"Hamilton."

"Yes?" Alex's voice was too high-pitched.

"Look, I would love to dance with you."

Oh, God. Alex knew that he was about to get the breakup talk. And they hadn't even been dating! He had just ruined everything with—

"Look." Laurens looked around, red-faced. "Um. I'm...I'm gay."

"Okay, great! That's totally fine, I hope that you didn't think—"

"Sssh!" Laurens winced, feeling like he was being too rude, but… "Okay. So I'm gay, and stuff. But my dad, he...he doesn't know. He can't know. Get me?"

"Yeah." Hamilton was still red, and he had an intense look on his face. "Yeah, I got it. And I will never, ever do anything that might, like, out you or something, I hope you know that."

"I do. But, while I would love to dance...we...we can't."

"Okay." Alex felt like his heart was falling to the floor, but he kept a smile on his face. "Okay. But Laurens...I'll be waiting on a dance, okay?"

"Okay." Laurens wanted to cry. "Someday."

"Someday."