Trust [Lams AU]

3

Trigger warning: Drug mention

Alex was running.

Where should I go? He wondered, millions of possibilities racing through his mind.

I could go anywhere. New York. Los Angeles. New Orleans. Washington D.C. I could go to Philadelphia and visit the place where the founding fathers had written the Constitution.

I could-

Alex's thoughts were inturrupted when he felt himself collide with someone.

Alex's feet slipped out from under him and the force of his momentum propelled him forward, his body slamming against someone else's as he fell. The force of him hitting the ground rattled his skull and made his vision blur.

When he'd come to his senses, he saw a pair of green eyes staring into his. Panicking, Alex scrambled to his feet, stumbling over his words as he desperately attempted to apologise.

"I'm so sorry- I was running- and then I was falling- and I wasn't looking where I was going- and-"

The boy (who was still lying on his back on the ground ground, Alex noted) started laughing.

"You should have seen your face when you fell." He gasped through peals of laughter. "Priceless! I wish I could have taken a picture and turned it into a meme!"

The boy seemed to be about Alex's age, though the freckles and laughter-flushed cheeks made him appear younger.

His hair was long and curly and pulled back into a ponytail.

The boy stood up and wiped the dirt off of his jeans. He smiled and extended a hand to Alex.

"My name's Laurens. John Laurens."

"I... hello... I'm sorry I ran into you. Are you alright?"

John laughed. "I'm fine. I've been playing football since I was a little kid.  I've hit my head more times than I can count."

Alex couldn't help but laugh.

"Are ya gonna leave me hangin' or what?" John said, waving his extended hand impatiently. "My arm's getting tired."

"I... uh... sorry." Alex took John's hand and shook it.

"Say, what's your name, man?" John asked, smirking in a way that made Alex feel like he was on trial.

"Alexander Hamilton." Alex mumbled, his eyes fixed on the patch of grass between his feet.

He hated his name. The name "Alexander Hamilton" signified nothing but pain and suffering. It conjured up images of his mother's lifeless body and the suitcase his father took with him when he left. It conjured up images of the orphanage and cold uncaring foster families. His surname "Hamilton" disgusted him. It was the name of the man who had abandoned him and his family when they needed him the most.

"What?" John said. "I can't hear you. Speak up!"

"Alexander Hamilton." Alex said, slightly louder. "My name is Alexander Hamilton."

"Interesting. I don't believe we've met." John looked Alex up and down, his eyes wandering over his tattered clothes. "Let me guess, you go to the public school."

Alex shook his head, unsure of what to do. He'd just moved to this country. He didn't go to any school.

"You don't go to the public school? You go to Colonial Prep?"

Alex shook his head again. He felt like he was on trial.

"Are you homeschooled or something?"

"I just moved to America. I don't know  anything about school. I don't even know what Colonial Prep is."

John laughed. "Interesting. Where are you from?"

"Nevis."

"Where the fuck is that?"

"The Carribean. It's an island."

"Ahh, so you're a Carribean island type, huh?" John said, sliding his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

Alex laughed. "I guess you could say that."

"You speak Spanish?"

"Some. I grew up mostly speaking French and English but we get a lot of Spanish-speaking visitors." Alex smiled. "My Carribean accent is really thick when I speak French so if I went to France they'd probably laugh in my face."

"Like Canadians who speak in Quebec slang?"

"Kind of." Alex said.

"I have a friend from France and I learned more about French from him than I did from five years of French lessons in school."

Alex fidgeted uncomfortably with his hair, unsure of what to say. Nobody had ever taken interest in him before. Nobody had ever considered him interesting or important enough to hold a conversation with.

They always got bored of him in the end. When he was younger, Alex had tried to make friends, had struck up conversations and tried to keep people interested in him. But no matter how hard he tried, they always got bored of him. After a while, he'd stopped trying. What was the point of trying if he knew that it would just end badly?

Eventually John got bored of him too.

John smirked mischievously, like a badly behaved child in a novel about to reveal their reckless plan.

"Do you smoke weed?" He asked.

Alex grinned. When he was a young teen, he'd spent a lot of time on the streets. He would sneak out when he was frusterated with the way someone at the orphanage had treated him or when his one of foster families' cruel treatment had become too much to handle. He would wander the streets alone, trying to run away from his miserable life. Eventually, he'd come across the "bad side" of Nevis, the side adults always warned him about.

He remembered his first time smoking. He'd been fifteen. He remembered the boy's smile as he handed him the blunt, the way he'd laughed at Alex's expression as he blew out the cloud of smoke.

It had allowed him to forget. To forget about his father abandoning him, to forget about his mother's death, to forget about the orphanage and the foster families and all the other bullshit in his life. For the first time since his mother's death, he'd felt happy.

"I'll take that as a yes." He fished a strange black object out of his pocket and handed it to Alex. "Want a hit?"

"What is this?" Alex said. "It looks like something I found when Mrs. Jergensen made me take her desktop apart and put it back together as punishment for punching James in the face."

"It's a weed pen. It's electronic. Like an E-Cigarette, but for weed."

Alex nodded. "High tech. In Nevis we just roll blunts."

"Welcome to the twenty first century, Alexander."

Alex took a hit. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the familiar wave of calm wash over him.

"Feeling better? You seemed really tense."

"Yeah. Much better."

John took his weird electronic joint back.

"Do you have to be home by any specific time?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Come on. I'll show ya around town."

Why not? Alex thought. He's only going to give a shit about me for a little while. Why not enjoy having someone to talk to while I can?

John started to walk, and Alex followed.