Uh...France?{Jeffmads}

Now We're Getting Somewhere

six
5 years later

James's alarm woke him at the same time it did every morning. And every morning he had the same routine; get out of bed, shower, get dressed and leave.

He found his phone, hanging just off the bed by its charger, and swiped to turn off the alarm. Yawning, he laid in bed for a few minuets more before actually getting up and heading to the bathroom to shower.
He shivered when he stepped onto the cold tiled floor but let the feeling subside as he undressed and started the shower.

(What do guys do in the shower? Same thing as girls?)

He finished and turned off the water, stepping out and wrapping a towel around himself. Again, he shivered.

James headed back to his room and sat on his bed, scrolling through his phone.
Sometimes his routine wasn't perfect.
After a short while he grew bored and conscious of the time.
He set his phone down and searched his wardrobe for something to wear.
His attire didn't change dramatically over the days, due to his line of work it consisted of mostly button downs- semi formal things.
James was a journalist (its all I could think of!), he wrote mostly for the newspaper.

After settling on something, that included a lack of bright colours, James dressed himself and grabbed his coat.
On the table in the small dinning room-kitchen onsuite was scattered paper and his laptop, he gathered the items hastily and shoved them into his bag, then he was out the door.
He had to run to reach the elevator before it closed, it was a regretful action but he was happy he didn't have to take the stairs.
On most days James would walk to work, it being only a few blocks down from his complex, on the way is a little coffee shop he'd stop at.

If the weather were ailing or he was running especially late, he'd drive. Today he was walking so as usual, he untangled his headphones and plugged them into his phone.
He took them out to order at the coffee shop and put them back in as he continued on his way.
S

ally Hemings worked at that coffee shop, Thomas did end up dating her in year nine, but she broke it off at the end of the term.
James smiled at the thought. Thomas had been upset about it, though he refused to admit it. Aaron and James would tease him if he were in a good mood and comfort him if he weren't.
After almost two weeks, Thomas was acting like his cocky old self again.

James, now nostalgic, sighed as he conituned on his way.
Soon the building in which he worked towered over him, blocking out the soothing morning sun.
He knew the day ahead of him would be as dull and unfulfilling as it usually is.
His boss was somewhat strict but always calm, his coworkers were mostly inconsiderate dicks and he had no friends in the workplace.
Aaron headed to New York to study law at Princeton, Theodosia accompanied him to New York in search of getting her PhDs (again, all I could think of!).
And Thomas.... He hadn't seen or heard from Thomas in five years, his best friend simply vanished.
He never told James about moving, sometimes James wondered if Thomas himself hadn't known.

"Inhaler Boy is here!" He heard as the elevator doors glided open, he sighed. When starting middle schools that nickname was left behind, no one called him that anymore - except for Reynolds of course.
James Reynolds, older brother of Maria, was probably the biggest dick in the workplace.
James often rated his coworkers on a scale of 1 to 10 for how much of a dick they'd been to him that week.
Reynolds was always an 11.

"Fuck off, Reynolds." James said as he set his things on his desk where Reynolds often felt the need to hang around.
Reynolds gasped, dramatically placing his hand over his chest, pretending to be offended.

"That's not very nice, is it Maddie?" Said Reynolds as if talking to a baby. James rolled his eyes and sat down, trying to ignore him.
After a few minuets more of pestering James and gaining no response, Reynolds left him alone, stomping off like a mad toddler.
Sighing with relief, James continued to work.
He was writing an article for the newspaper, reporting on some insignificant government issues.
(You should have gathered by now, its all I can think of)
Sipping his thankfully still hot coffee, he paused to read his work.
James had a passion for writing since childhood, he'd write stories in class, scribbling little paragraphs at the back of his book.
Thomas encouraged him to follow his dream, James however had never let anyone read his work, he didn't understand why Thomas had such hope for his future rather then his own.
Even now, James enjoyed writing but still never let anyone see.

Journalism seemed to be the only way he'd let people see his work, it wasn't exactly what he wanted but it was close enough.

After another hour or so, James finished his report and proof read it twice.
Satisfied, he made a printed copy and took it to his boss, George Washington.
Washington was usually pleased with his work, he'd read it over then compliment or criticize it.

The sun had begun to set when James packed up to head home.
A wind picked up as he walked, he shivered and quickened his pace.
Thankfully he made it home within a decent time period. He slipped his shoes and coat off, set his things down on the table and laid down on his bed.
He was for some reason extra tired that evening and fell asleep almost right away, not minding that he hadn't eaten all day.

~
Thomas Jefferson spent five years in France.
Look it up.