Chapter Text
For his entire life, Thomas Jefferson had lived with the knowledge that the first thing his soulmate thought once he saw him would be tattooed on his arm. It was like this for everyone. Some people had simple thoughts that didn’t offer much of an impression of your soulmate like “Wow they have pretty eyes,” or “Huh?”, but not Thomas.
The phrase written over his forearm was “Are all jocks incapable of not blocking the hallway, or is it just this asshole?”. He was never quite sure of what to do about that. Like, was he simply supposed to obstruct every hallway he was in, in hope of running into his soulmate? It used to hurt him a bit, at least when he was younger, that it didn’t seem like he would get that fairy tale romance from the get-go, but he had learned to get over himself. Perhaps his soulmate simply had a bad day.
The jock part of that statement wasn’t hard to fulfil. Thomas had always been proficient at sports, and he had been part of some form of sports club for as long as he could remember. He fell in easily with the popular crowd, and while he certainly didn’t think badly about his peers that wasn’t a part of his friend group, he paid them no mind either. While his friends’ reputations of being not so nice had transferred to him, and his skills in debate and his refusal to back down from a challenge had left him with a reputation of being rather arrogant, he didn’t act rude on purpose.
Perhaps he should though, considering that’s what his soulmate saw him as, but that wasn’t really an expectation he was longing to live up to. He couldn’t help wonder what was written on his soulmate’s arm. Was it a similar comment, or something completely different?
The rules of the soulmate system wasn’t particularly clear either. A friend of his had discovered his soulmate to be a girl in his class, that he had never had much contact with. As far as Thomas understood it, they had to somehow touch each other – shake hands, bump into one another accidentally, you name it – and they would just know they were meant for one another. It didn’t really make sense, but Thomas figured there was no reason to agonise over things he didn’t have the power to change. He would probably just know, once he met this mysterious person.
As it turned out, that was easier said than done.
He was walking through a crowded hallway in his high school one morning, with a slow pace due to the mass of people trying to get to class at the same time. He feels someone bump into him from behind, his back was turned so he couldn’t see who it was, but suddenly he felt way warier of his surroundings than he usually ever did. It felt as if there was someone he desperately needed to find.
He turned around, trying to find out who bumped into him. The first person he saw was a boy he vaguely recognised to be a year younger than him. His first proper thought was a stupid one, as all his clouded mind provided him with was “Fuck, he’s cute.”
“Are you planning on standing there the entire day?” The other student asked, clearly annoyed. His long brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, he looked like he hadn’t slept at all the past couple of nights, and he had the most beautiful deep brown eyes Thomas had ever seen.
And then he felt it, like a click in his brain. He didn’t know if the other boy felt it too, but it was there. He took the hand of said confused, somewhat bitter-looking, junior and started walking.
“What the fuck are you doing?” The boy asked. Thomas was racking his brain, trying to remember his name. He knew he had seen him before. He was pretty active in debate, and for hosting his own protests against Principal Augustine with his friends on the school grounds. He was hard to miss.
“Just trust me.”
“Trust you? I don’t even know you!” He was making a huge fuss. Thomas turned around again, and straightened his back, effectively making their height difference just a tad more apparent, in a way to display a tiny bit of dominance, or at least pretend to.
“I need to tell you something, but first we need to get out of this crowd.” Thomas said, his tone of voice confident and with enough grandeur to make the other boy nod silently, albeit still looking a bit dissatisfied.
Thomas dragged them through the hall, his tall stature effectively turning him into a snow plough, as he dragged the younger boy through the masses of people. Thomas was still trying to remember the boy’s name, cursing his forgetful brain. It started with an A, he remembered that much. Andy? No, not that. Alexander? Could that be it? He wasn’t sure.
“Where are you taking me?” The boy, possibly named Alexander asked. ‘I am going to change your life,’ Thomas thought, but he decided not to say it out loud. The other boy was probably pretty annoyed with him already; he didn’t need to rub it in.
Once they were out in the courtyard, Thomas located a nearby bench and went to sit down. The long-haired boy joined him.
“Can you please tell me what you want from me? I am going to be late for English.” Thomas responded by pulling up his sleeve, under Alexander’s questioning gaze.
“When you bumped into me, I felt something, like a click in my brain, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of everything around me. I just need to know, was this a coincidence, or does it mean something? If you remember, was this what you thought when you bumped into me?” Thomas rambled out an explanation, but he needed to know. He showed his tattoo, and the boy with the pretty eyes started laughing.
“Oh boy. I was thinking that. I am sorry you had to grow up with that written on your arm.” He laughed harder. Once he had calmed down a bit he tried to speak again. “My name is Alexander Hamilton by the way. I don’t feel too sorry, as your first thoughts weren’t the most flattering either.”
Thomas mentally high-fived himself for getting his name right, but he had to laugh for himself once he saw Alexander’s tattoo. It was written in cursive, with the phrase “Fuck, he’s cute.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Thomas flashed his best smile. “I’m Thomas Jefferson.” Before he has time to say anything else, a panicked expression appeared on Alexander’s face.
“I AM GOING TO BE LATE,” Alexander exclaimed. Thomas was too dazed to think about the remains of his school day, but apparently Alexander was not. “I HAVE TO DEBATE CHARLES LEE IN LESS THAN A MINUTE!”
Alexander stood up in a hurry, and started to run.
“Will I see you again?” Thomas shouted after him. While, yes, they went to the same school, Thomas was uncertain whether Alexander cared for him at all.
“Yes! I have to go win an argument with an idiot first,” Alexander stopped to yell back. “I’ll see you at lunch!”
Thomas chuckled to himself. The fiery junior ran off, and Thomas sat there, watching for a moment before realising that he too, had a class he was late for.