Hello and welcome!

This is just a random idea I had that I wanted to write a story about, and I am currently procrastinating on my other book so I decided to write this.

Most of the characters in this are my OC's, but I swear, there will be lams.

Also I'm not American, so my spelling might be different. I apologize if I get something wrong, like the school system or something because I have never been to America.

WARNING: I am a procrastinator, so I don't have a regular updating schedule.

Hope you enjoy!

Lyn POV

'And this is why all that stuff about John Laurens being gay is complete and utter nonsense."

I shut my laptop in outrage. Who did this new historian think she is, going around saying 'everyone in history is straight, why has it changed now'?

"Honey, you should just stop listening to her," my girlfriend, Fiona, told me as she walked in the room. "She's just another homophobe,"

"I know, I know," I sighed. "But she's going around saying all those obviously gay letters that were exchanged between John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton were forged. Forged by who? They were literally found by Hamilton's son, why would he set something like that up?"

"I totally believe you, love, those letters were not forged and they definitely suggested some sort of romantic relationship between the two men, but I guess you can't really prove it." Fiona said.

"Those letters should be enough proof," I grumbled. Getting up off the couch, I went to get ready for work. I had just recently graduated from college with Fiona, and was starting working as a substitute teacher in middle schools. After having my shower, I got changed, read for a bit because I have time, read for too long and then realized I was going to be late.

"Crap, I've gotta go, love you!" I shouted to my girlfriend as I ran out of the door, tying my slightly wet red hair into a ponytail. I only just managed to make the bus, so thankfully, I wouldn't be late unless there was traffic.

~time skip cause no-one wants to read about a bus trip~

I walked into a classroom full of loud teenagers. Great, I had the year 8 class. This should be fun. I cleared my throat, but no-one paid me any attention. I cleared it slightly louder, and one of the students heard me and 'sshh'ed the rest of the class. I gave them a thankful look, before turning to the rest of the class.

"Hi, my name is Miss Henderson, and I'll be your sub today. Before you ask, no, you can't have a free period," I said. A few people groaned, but I chose to ignore them. "This is your history period, so today we will be learning about the American Revolution."

Most of the class groaned again, but I saw a small group of mostly girls and a few boys at the back of the room start whispering excitedly. Ah, I had found the theatre nerds. Or just a group of Hamilton fans.

"But this won't be a normal lesson, just me handing out worksheets about George Washington and you completing them. Today, we will be focusing on the not-so-famous people that helped win the war for America. Can anyone name someone?" I asked. A girl, who I figured liked Hamilton, shot her hand up immediately. Please say who I want you to say, please... I prayed as I picked her.

"Hercules Mulligan," she said, grinning wildly. Not exactly the answer I was looking for, but it was a start.

"Yes, Hercules Mulligan was a tailor spying on the British government in the war. He took the information the American's needed, and smuggled it to them." I said, purposely making Hamilton references. The group at the back of the room were grinning so much they looked like Cheshire cats. "Without his help, we might not have won the war, or it might have taken us a lot longer. Does anyone have someone else?" I said.

Almost the entire group at the back shot their hands up. The rest of the class rolled their eyes, knowing what would come next. I picked another girl, who looked like she was going to explode with excitement.

"John Laurens."

I grinned. The show was about to begin. "Before I tell you who he was, can anyone except the people at the back of the room tell me who he was?"

One boy hesitantly put his hand up. "Wasn't he the dude that the historian Karen Hoffman was talking about this morning? The one who's letters were forged?"

I didn't know her first name was Karen. I guess that explains her actions. I tried to smile when all I wanted to do was scream.

"Well, I'm not a historian myself, but I can tell you that those letters were not forged." I said, trying to remain calm.

"Yeah!" a boy shouted from the back of the room. "The letters were definitely true, the historian person is just talking shi- crap!"

"What letters?" a girl asked.

"The letters that were proof of a romantic relationship between him and Alexander Hamilton!" another girl shouted out. The class erupted into chaos.

"Alexander Hamilton was gay?"

"Wasn't that illegal back then?"

"What did the letters say?"

"Alright, everyone settle down," I said loudly. "I'll answer all your questions, one at a time." I pointed to a boy.

"Was Alexander Hamilton gay?" He asked.

"No, it's most likely he was Bi, like me, which means he feels romantic attraction to both genders. It was illegal back then, so they kept their relationship a secret, and it was only discovered in their letters by Hamilton's son after he was shot. The most famous and well known letter goes like this: 'Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you.'."

There were plenty more questions throughout the lesson, and I could answer all of them. The students were pretty happy that I didn't give them work, because we spent the whole lesson learning about John Laurens. When class ended, the group of Hamilton fans came up to my desk.

"That was the best lesson ever," a girl said.

"Thank you so much!" a boy said.

"It was my pleasure, I'm always happy to teach people about the gay side of history." I smiled. "You guys had better get going, I don't want to make you late for your next class!" They all said 'thank you' as they walked out of the room. One of the girls, I recognized her as the one who said 'John Laurens' at the beginning of the lesson, stayed behind.

"Meet me behind the school at 3pm," she whispered.

"Ok?" I said. "What's your name, so I can find you?"

"Cathy," she said, before exiting the room.