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jestersprivilegee · 3 months ago

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High and Dry | ch. 3

thomas j. x reader

Warnings: swearing, mostly yap tbh this chapter is pretty mid

Wc: 3k

Guys I swear it’ll pick up after this chapter js you wait 🙏

“I’d like for you to come visit,” your mother said, a smile in her tone.

“Mom,” you started, stress evident in the single word, “I would love to, but with the school year just starting…” you trailed off, hoping she’d get the hint.

“You don’t have the time,” she finished. A relieved sigh escaped your lungs, and you peered in the tiny window to see Thomas still typing on his computer.

“Yes. I’m sorry, mom, I—“

“It’s okay,” she interrupted abruptly. “You don’t have to give me an excuse. If you can’t visit, then let’s leave it at that.”

A heavy, almost frustrated sigh escaped you. As much as you’d like to visit her, you weren’t quite ready to face her after the years of emotional trauma she put you through. And with the reintroduction of Thomas in your life, you weren’t quite sure if you would ever be ready. He was the only person you opened up to enough to let him see that side of your family. He was the only one to have met her. And she really loved him. Still does, probably, because you never told her why you stopped being friends.

She was under the impression that you grew apart due to him moving to France. You never did have the heart to tell her the real reason.

“Okay.” You frowned. “I’ll call you when I get the chance.”

She hung up without saying goodbye. Instant guilt bubbled in your stomach all the way up to your chest, making you grimace bitterly. You felt like a total shithead for pushing her away, but what could you do? The state of your mental health was deteriorating, the second most stressful time of year was beginning, and enemy number one somehow found a way to wiggle back in your life.

It was too overwhelming to deal with all at once, especially since your therapy visits were slowing down to once a month rather than once every two weeks. A small, desperate part of you was convincing you that it was for your mother’s sake that you don’t visit. If you went, you reasoned, what would end up happening is projection from all the fucked-up shit going on in life. As a result, she would only get worse and you would be unhappy, too. So it was best to avoid until it stopped all together.

You took a moment to regain yourself, then walked back in and wordlessly sat, ignoring the lump that formed in your throat.

—

“First day of teaching, how are you feeling?” Alex grinned, his hands clasped together. You shrugged.

“Nervous. Excited. Kind of dreading it.”

Hamilton shook his head, a wide smile still plastered on his face. “You’ll do fine! First day is always nerve-wrecking, but I’m always down the hall if you need anything.”

A sheepish thanks was sent his way, and you tried not to think about all the chaos that would ensue during the day. There was bound to be that one kid who causes trouble. When running into those types of students, you have to remind yourself they probably have something going on in their lives causing them to act up. Giving them a reaction would only give them a reason to continue. Best thing you can do is laugh it off and move on.

“I appreciate it, Alexander,” you said. His long hair was put up in a ponytail, and he had this ambition to him that seemed to infect the people around him. He was only a year or two your junior, yet he was so intelligent and walked like he owned the place.

“Of course. Hey, Lafayette got back with his girlfriend, just like I predicted.” He sat on the edge of your desk, changing the focus from you to drama.

“Oh, good, he won’t shamelessly flirt with me anymore,” you sighed in mock relief.

“Who’s shamelessly flirtin’ with you?” A certain southerner chimed in, walking through the door. Thomas held two coffees in his hand, one iced and one hot. His biceps strained against the white button up he wore, and—wait. Why were you staring at his arms?

“And now's a good time for me to leave. See you, Y/n, good luck!” Hamilton hopped off the desk, scowling at Jefferson when they crossed paths. Thomas sent back an equally distasteful glare, then turned to you with an expectant look.

“No one anymore,” you formed your mouth into a thin line, shifting in the shitty swivel chair the school provides.

“Hm. Okay.” He narrowed his eyes, scanning your appearance, taking note of the neatness in your hair and makeup. “I brought you coffee, even though you took my spot again.”

An iced latte with a distinct Starbucks logo was placed on your desk. Instantly, your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You hesitantly grabbed it, taking a sip. It was your favorite. How did he remember that you like extra caramel and extra vanilla?

“It was open,” you shrugged, looking down at the drink. “This isn’t laced with anything, is it?”

He smirked. “How’d you know?”

“Because you would never bring me coffee out of the goodness of your heart—if you have one, that is,” you retorted.

His smirk grew wider, and he would rather you throw it in his face than tell you the real reason why he brought you coffee. He felt bad for you. After what happened the day before, he realized you must be going through a lot, and a tiny part of him wanted to correct his behaviors. But he would never admit that. So instead of apologizing or trying to be genuinely nice, he figured he could reach you through food. The best way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach, after all.

“I have a heart,” he protested. “Trust me, L/n, if I wanted you dead you’d be dead. But you’re still breathin’.”

“Thank you, you are such an amazing person now that you’ve spared me! What would I ever do without you?” Your tone was dripping with sarcasm. He seemed to thrive in it.

“Suffer, probably,” he suggested, a slyness in his stupid smile. You hated the way that you liked how his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Right. Because I already don’t do that with you in my life.”

Instant regret the moment the words left your mouth. Why did you say that? All it would do is stir up drama and start the day off negatively.

The smile he wore faded, and for a second, guilt tugged at your heart. “Alright, I get it,” he threw his hands up in defense. “You hate me. Don’t gotta rub it in my face every time you see me, though.”

You muttered incoherent nonsense under your breath. “Feels like I have a right to,” you said. All of a sudden, keeping his gaze seemed impossible. How was it that playful teasing could turn sour so quickly?

“You do,” he nodded, “but you’re also gonna have to suck it up, cause you’re stuck with me the entire year.”

He was right, as much as you hated to acknowledge that. His attention lingered on you, taking in the frown that tugged at your lips, how your face had matured over the years, the way your haircut suited you perfectly. Thomas hated how you made his heart flutter. You shouldn’t make him feel anything other than rage, and yet? He still became flustered at the sight of you.

“Thomas, you—you really hurt me, y’know that?” You started, finally pulling your focus back to him. “I would’ve done anything for you. I would’ve lost a leg or walked through fire if you asked me to. So I think I’m entitled to being a little bitter when you’re around.”

He stared at you, digesting what you dropped on him in silence. Slowly, he nodded, an unreadable expression twisting on his features. Right as he opened his mouth to speak, the bell rang, and the chatter of students filled the hall. He glanced up, then took a step back.

“Saved by the bell,” he murmured, looking at you one last time before exiting.

A breath you didn’t know you were holding was released. You thought telling him how he hurt you, maybe even yelling or belittling him would make you feel better, but it didn’t. The weight was still on your shoulders. The pain still loomed over you, haunting the back of your mind, dancing and thriving in the self-pity you felt. What you would give to stop it.

The first wave of students clamored in, and you stood, forcing a smile and a positive attitude. Next door, you heard Thomas welcoming students in, you heard him saying hello to older ones. His stupid, sweet southern drawl being the only voice you could hear over the loudness that teenagers brought in.

You loathed him for it. Or was it that you hated yourself for selectively hearing his voice above all others?

—

The day went by surprisingly fast, and you ended up having a lot of fun. Lafayette and John had the same lunch as you, so they invited you to eat with them while in the teacher workroom. Conversation flowed, inside jokes were built, and you came out of your shell for once. Naturally, you and John teased Lafayette for flirting with you during the first impressions, then three days later getting back with the girl he said he was ‘officially over with.’ They even noted how you seemed more talkative, more expressive once you’ve eased into the friend group a little. You were just happy someone wanted to be your friend.

The students you had were all smart, and the majority of your classes worked well together. Some better than others, but what mattered is that they had fun. Of course, there were those few students that disrupted class with their friends. It was a simple fix. By the end of the day, you were exhausted, and it didn’t help knowing you had a full week ahead. More lesson plans to create. More time spent working with Jefferson.

“There she is!” An energetic Hamilton barreled through the door. He was practically bouncing off the walls from how lively he was. It astounded you how he was so cheerful after an entire day of working.

“Hi, Alex.” The best you could offer was a lethargic smile. “Good day, I presume?”

“Great day,” he corrected. “All of my classes were perfect. Well, except one, but they were still good!” He slid atop your desk once more, his smile never faltering. “So.”

“So?” You raised a brow.

“How was it?” His hands went to grip the edge of the desk.

“Good. Tiring, but I had fun. Nobody got hurt, so that’s a win in my book. Went over the syllabus, class procedures, the works, but I didn’t want the first day to be that boring, so we had them choose a song or artist that represents them. One kid said Sexyback. I still don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Kids never fail to disappoint me,” He chuckled.

“I know. When I read it I just started laughing. I think that one was my favorite, and the kid that wrote he’s the reincarnation of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.” You reached for the stack of notecards that students turned in, flipping through them. Honorable mention for whoever put Life in the Fast Lane.

“Good for both of them. I wish I were that confident.”

“Right? They know their worth. I gotta respect it,” you said, shoving the cards back in the turn-in box.

“Honestly,” he hummed. He contemplated his next words, fidgeting with a stray pen on your desk. “Any trouble from Jefferson?”

“Nothing more than usual,” you shrugged. “He brought me coffee this morning.”

Alexander’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Really? What did he want?”

“I don’t know, he never told me why he brought me it. He never asked me for anything either, so maybe he just bought an extra by accident,” you reasoned. Which it didn’t add up in your mind, because how could he buy an extra that just so happened to be the exact kind of coffee you drink?

“Huh,” his eyebrows creased, “that’s odd. One would assume he would give it to Madison before anyone else…”

Even though you didn’t want it to, a knot of jealousy twisted in your stomach. “Who’s Madison?” You asked, trying to keep your tone as level as possible.

“Someone from the math team Jefferson is best friends with.” A tight scowl overtook his features. “Madison and I used to get along, too, until Jeffershit came around.”

It shouldn’t hurt so much to hear Thomas was “best friends” with some girl named Madison. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt at all?

“Yeah? So Thomas really does ruin everything, huh?” You laughed, trying to act as if you weren’t crushed by the possibility of Thomas finding someone new.

You knew that Thomas was bad for you, that you wouldn’t get along ever again, but the thought of him having someone else he’d share everything with, someone he’d laugh and have inside jokes with…it sucked. That was the only way you could classify it. A sick, selfish side wanted him to still be stuck on you; for him to think your name first when someone talked about close friends. But you knew better than to give in to the toxicity.

“God, don’t even get me started,” he groaned. “Seriously. Because you and I both know that once I get going, I don’t stop.”

An airy laugh escaped you, and his bright, enthusiastic smile returned. Thomas was often the topic of discussion between you and Alex, mostly when you felt like talking shit about someone, but right now you wanted to do anything but think about him. It seemed like all your thoughts revolved around Thomas Jefferson. His small action of bringing you coffee, joking around with him, why his cologne smelt so good, the way his shirt hugged his muscles—by the way, when did his muscles become so defined? And why did you find yourself staring at them so often?

“Anyway, you’re starting To Kill A Mockingbird soon with your classes, right?” He asked. “It’s one of my favorites. I wish I could read it with my classes, but with them being seniors, I really can’t,” he shook his head, a disappointed sigh leaving him.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite too, but for now we’re just reviewing and setting up for the year. I’m gonna try and convince Jefferson to start it next week instead of the week after—although maybe I should be a little nicer for that to work…” you trailed off, grimacing at the thought.

“Convince me of what?” Thomas jumped in, standing in the doorway all casual.

Alex stared at him, scrunching his nose in distaste. “This is the second time you’ve done this today, Jefferson.”

Thomas shrugged. “I heard my name. Can’t blame me for bein’ curious.”

Hamilton scoffed, “go be curious somewhere else. We don’t want you here.“

“Believe me, Hamilton, the last place I want to be is in a room with you. ’nd now you’ve infected L/n with your idiocy. This ain’t exactly the ideal environment for me.” He retorted, unamused.

“You could resign. No one’s forcing you to work here,” Alex suggested, smugness evident in his tone. Annoyance flickered in Thomas’s jaw.

“Okay, Alex,” you chuckled nervously, shooting him a look as if to say cut it out. “I was wondering if we could move reading Mockingbird to next week instead.” Alex seemed to have gotten the hint that you needed to be on Jefferson’s good side in order for him to comply.

“Hm. I dunno… you wanna tell me how smart, handsome, amazing, and charming I am?” A sly grin grew on his lips.

“I’m not gonna kiss your ass, Jefferson,” you deadpanned. So much for getting him on your side. You’d rather die than admit those things.

“Well then, I guess we’re not movin’ it a week closer. Your loss, Y/n,” he hummed. The sudden feminine urge to throw your computer at him was overwhelming.

“Oh, c’mon, d’you seriously wanna work on mindless review for two weeks?”

“I don’t mind doing so,” he took some steps toward your desk. “Most of ‘em don’t even remember the difference between a compound and complex sentence, much less how to write an essay or basic punctuation. This’ll set ‘em up for a good year.”

You couldn’t disagree with him. A lot of your past students did struggle with grammar for whatever reason, and maybe a couple weeks to review everything they lost due to summer wouldn’t hurt. “But they aren’t stupid. Most of them are honors students, it shouldn’t take two weeks to review the basics.”

“Mm, you’re right,” he frowned, shifting his watch to Hamilton for a brief moment. “But I still think we should stick with what I’ve done every year I’ve been here. My students have always had the best test scores in the district, after all.”

The not-so-humble bragging only furthered your irritation with his intransigence.

“Oh, that’s crap, Jefferson. Every other school is twice as small, and their funding is significantly less. We’re the biggest school in this district, we dominate in sports, UIL, and scores for every subject,” Alex chimed in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“Uh, was anybody speakin’ to you, Hamilton?” He huffed. “I swear, you don’t know when to stop talking.”

“That is kind of true,“ you mumbled. Alex elbowed your arm, giving you a pointed look.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he pouted.

You gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But to be fair, you said it yourself earlier. ‘Once I get going, I don’t stop.’” Upon hearing his words echoed back to him, he groaned.

“See? Even Y/n agrees. But unless she agrees that I am the most gorgeous, intelligent, dashingly attractive man she’s ever met—“

“Go fuck yourself,” you interrupted, a bitter laugh escaping your chest. “We can just stick to your plan since you want to be such an ass.”

How badly you wanted to erase the smug grin that reached his eyes. “‘M not bein’ an ass, ‘m just bein’ a smart planner. You’ll thank me later, L/n.”

You sighed. This was gonna be a long year.

#hamilton #hamilton x reader #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson x reader

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