Oh My God (Homework Sequel)

But It's Too Late To Turn Around

"Do you have the food ready?" I call from the bedroom. 

"Almost! The salsa is being difficult, though." John replies back from the kitchen. I raise an eyebrow and walk out of the room to the kitchen, giving him a skeptical look. 

"John, how can salsa be difficult?" 

"It won't come out of the bottle!" He whines as he shakes the bottle above the bowl we had for salsa. 

I roll my eyes and grab a bigger spoon, taking the bottle from him and scooping some of the salsa into the bowl. "You have to be smarter than the salsa, sweetie." 

He chuckles and grabs the chips from the pantry. "Oh shush, I was trying my best there!" 

I go to reply, but am cut off by the doorbell ringing. "My friends or your friends?" I ask. 

He shrugs. "No clue, I'll grab it, though." He kisses me on the cheek swiftly and then walks to the door opening it up for our visitors. 

I grab the chips and salsa and set them on the counter before going to the livingroom where John was letting Francis Kinloch, Catharine Livingston, and John Andre in. I nod at the three of them as they sit down, and John and I sit on the other couch. 

"Hey, guys. Thanks for coming." I say happily. They all smile at me. 

"Thanks for inviting us, Alex." Andre says.

The doorbell rings again and John gets up to get it again, letting three new people in. They sit down on the couch we were just on as John and I sit on the big chair together.

The furniture came in a set, and I never thought we'd have any use for it, but it's a good thing we got it.

"Um, we should introduce ourselves. Everyone say their name and... let's do where we're from, just for fun." John starts before looking at me, prompting me to go first.

I rolls my eyes playfully and look the the rest of them, giving a single wave. "I'm Alexander Hamilton, and I'm from the Caribbean."

John smiles brightly and holds my hand. "And I'm John Laurens, I'm from South Carolina."

The blonde girl closest to John smiles and waves. "My name's Carrie Withers, I was born and raised in Georgia."

Then the brunette next to her nods. "Elizabeth Ross, but everyone just calls me Betsy. I'm from Pennsylvania." 

"I'm Benedict Arnold." He says, staring over at John Andre. "I'm from Connecticut."

I raise an eyebrow, but Andre doesn't seem bothered. In fact, he smirks instead. "I'm John Andre, also from the lovely Connecticut. You all can call me Andre, since there are two Johns." 

Then Francis nods and pipes up. "Um, Francis Kinloch. I'm not really sure where I'm from, moved between Georgia and South Carolina a lot when I was younger, parents weren't around much to tell me where I was born."

"And finally, I'm Catharine Livingston, but almost no one calls me Catharine, please call me Kitty. New York City baby right here." She giggles slightly and I look between Andre and Benedict again, sensing a strong tension they were trying to hide.

I clap my hands together. "Alright, why don't we get some games set up. Bullshit, anyone?" 

They all nod in agreement and John gets the cards, passing them out to everyone. We had moved to sit on the ground, around our coffee table since our dinner table had no more than four seats. 

The game was played civilly at first, but soon we found Benedict calling bullshit on Andre almost every other round. He was almost always wrong, and I was starting to see a pattern. I look at John and he nods.