What If It's Us(51)

And Arthur is into my story. He texts me after reading about Ben-Jamin getting his powers during a snowstorm and how he already wants The Wicked Wizard War to be a movie so he can buy Hot Topic shirts and Ben-Jamin Funko Pops. He’s being overly generous, but I really love it when he keeps texting me favorite parts. It’s all the scenes that were really cool to me and I wasn’t sure if they would be cool to anyone else. I really like hearing which parts have him laughing and which ones get his heart racing. It’s the greatest ego boost. Like maybe I have it in me to entertain strangers too.

And for the next couple hours, we keep texting each other our favorite parts. Hamilton not throwing away his shot as Ben-Jamin rejects his destiny. King George sending a fully armed battalion to remind the colonists of his love as Enchantress Eva predicts tragedy for a ragtag group of wizards. Hamilton rising up as Ben-Jamin rides into battle on a one-winged dragon. The Schuyler sisters getting me helpless as Arthur loses it over Ben-Jamin getting drunk with Duke Dill. History’s eyes and coming of age in their young nation and making a million mistakes. Flirty touches and first kisses and hearts that turn out to be wrong.

Arthur reaches the end of everything I’ve written, where Ben-Jamin is fighting some monsters in a glass town, and he wants to talk, but I can’t pull away from the tension between Hamilton and Angelica Schuyler, or Hamilton being a dumbass and cheating, or Eliza’s haunting song and shit just getting super real that I can’t believe I’m so caught up in something that happened centuries ago. Then “It’s Quiet Uptown” comes on, and wow, I’m about to cry, and by the end of it I press pause and call Arthur.

“You’re not done yet,” Arthur says. Of course he knows where I’m at in the musical.

“I’m calling it quits. This shit is getting too sad.”

“Oh yeah. ‘It’s Quiet Uptown’ is brutal. But you have to finish.”

“Okay. Will you stay on the phone with me? It’ll be easier for me to yell at you if this gets sadder.”

“My pleasure.”

I wait for Arthur to sync up with me and we press play at the exact same second. I close my eyes, listening to the last twenty minutes, and it feels like Arthur is right beside me.

“Wait, is Hamilton going to die here—”

“So Burr—”

“No spoilers!”

“It’s history!”

“History that I don’t know.”

And the gunshot goes off.

“Burr is a bastard,” I say.

“Hamilton really wasn’t all that great himself—”

“No commentary!”

The last song comes on and a tear finally breaks through. The longing in Eliza’s voice as she sings about aching to see Hamilton again, and wow, I loved every second of this.

“Whatever Hamilton fans are called, Arthur, I am one of them.”

“You’re not just saying that? You’re not obligated to like it, though you would be wrong not to.”

“No, I’m a total Hamil-head.”

“We’re called Hamilfans, actually.”

I tell him how I want to write Hamilton and Harry Potter crossover fanfiction and call it The Great American Fantasy Novel and stage all those duels in the dueling club and what houses I would sort everyone in. I take a deep breath. “All history should be taught through rap by Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

“Maybe The Wicked Wizard War will become the next Broadway hit!”

Arthur tells me everything he loves about TWWW, and all I can think about is how I wish he was actually by my side right now, so I could feel him laughing against me and kiss him for making me feel smarter than I actually am.

“. . . and when Ben-Jamin cracked the enchantress’s wand, I yelled and my dad came into the room to ask me if everything was okay and then told me to shut up.”

It’s almost two a.m., and I could talk to him until my body forces a shutdown on me like an overheated laptop.

“Arthur?”

“Ben?”

“Thanks for reading. And for Hamilton.”

“Thanks for listening. And for The Wicked Wizard War.”

“I want to see you again tomorrow.”

“Date?”

“Why not.”

“So is this a fifth first date?”

“Second date, Arthur.”

“Wow. Second date. We finally got there.”

“How lucky we are to be alive right now, right?”

“Oh my god, you’re speaking Hamilton—I’m just so into you. I’m helpless.”

I’m so into him too.

Saturday, July 21

Dylan calls me on FaceTime as I’m getting ready to meet up with Arthur.

“Hey,” I say. I’m naked from the top up because I’m not sure which shirt I want to wear yet.

“Morning strip show,” he says. “Dylan like.”

I hold up a solid white T-shirt and a solid green T-shirt. “Which one?”

“Green. What are you doing? Let’s hang out. I’m bored. Samantha has to work until six.”

I put on the green shirt. “I’m meeting up with Arthur.”

“Cool. Let’s all go chill.”

“I think I need some one-on-one time with Arthur.”