This chapter comes after and references the chapters Finding Understanding and Drawing the Line, so be familiar with those before reading this. Or don't, it's up to you.

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She was the weather. The weather never doubted what it was, it simply was. People could be annoyed with what the weather was and wished it to change but that never affected the weather. The weather continued to be what it was, unapologetic to the world, unbothered by their words, and glances.

Zander wished he could be like the weather.

Instead, he was a boat on the waves of life, feeling pushed, tossed, and pulled about by people around him. Eyes didn't glance off him, instead they stuck to him leaving imprints of the gazer. Words didn't fall on deaf ears, instead they filled his head. The good, the bad, the in-between, he heard, thought, and felt them all.

But she was the weather. Sunshine and clear days, she was who she was. Stormy, gray, rainy days, she was who she was.

People could hate the gray day, despise the rain. But it didn't affect her. And it made sense, perspective changed from person to person. Zander liked gray rainy days. It felt like the world was being tucked into bed and hushed to sleep. He liked the rain, the way it sounded on the windows, like friends tapping on the glass to check in on him as one artist put it.

That's what Sophia was. The weather. Unbothered. Unaffected. Unapologetic. Wholly herself. A comforting gray day.

"Hey there, Zander."

Zander retreated from his contemplation to see Julis, who bent down to peer into the back of the car.

"Hi, Julis," Zander said, waving to the gate guard.

Agents leading their dogs rounded the car. Zander pressed his nose to the glass, trying to see if Bartholomew's paw was completely healed. He smiled when he saw the German shepherd easily walking on all four paws.

"Bart is doing better," he said to Julis who chatted with George.

"He has. Made a full recovery," Julis said.

"Good. I was worried that he'd have to be given away but it's a relief that he's still here. Though I don't know maybe going to live with a nice family would be something he'd enjoy more. But I think he'd probably miss his family if he left us. Dogs can miss people, can't they?"

Julis smiled warmly at Zander. "They can." Gerald and Felix gave Julis a thumbs up and Julis tapped the window seal once. "Okay. You're all clear."

"Give Bart a dog treat for me," Zander called out as George guided the car through the gates.

Zander twisted around in his seat to check that Julis had heard his message. He received a thumbs up and knew that Bart would have one more reason to want to stay with the service.

George trailed Zander as he made his way through the ever-moving chaos of the West Wing. Where normally George would take the lead, his bulk and imposing nature naturally clearly the way, Zander took the lead in the West Wing, his position doing a swifter job than George's bulk.

"Hey, Zander."

"Hi, Nick." 

"Good day at school, kiddo?"

"Yeah. It wasn't too bad, Tess."

"You look very sharp in your uniform, young man."

"Thanks, Margaret."

Though each response Zander had contained two dozen more words, he'd learned early to cut his replies down to single sentences of no more than five words. After all, these people had lives that affected millions of others, their attention was best spent on their tasks.

"Is he free?" Zander asked.

Gretchen didn't glance up from her computer screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

"He has a call in an hour and is working on a speech."

It had taken Zander four weeks to translate his father's schedule and what it meant in regard to whether he could see him or not. There were different levels and Zander had broken down what each level meant and what it meant for him as the son of the President.

"Thanks." Zander reached for the handle to the Oval Office. "Thanks, George."

George nodded goodbye and Zander slipped into the most well-known office in America. Setting his backpack down by the door, he walked over to the desk and flopped onto the floor in front of it. He spread out his arms and legs across the years of history. It was a reassuring feeling. In history the trivial things of life weren't written about, only the major points. That meant that the ups and downs of life didn't have to be taken so seriously. The way he felt like a clumsy bear in a pride of lions would be something he could figure out and not as daunting as it felt.

"Are you hungry?" his father asked.

"Only if you want to order something," Zander said.

Zander heard the rustle of paper and then the phone being removed from its holder.

"Marcel, can you send something up for Zander and me? Whatever works. You know us, we're not picky. Thank you."

The phone clicked back into place and a second later Zander's father rounded the desk and lowered himself to the floor, putting his back to one of the couches. Stretching out his legs, he neatened his slacks, avoiding getting them creased.

"How was school?" his father asked, resting his clasped hands on his lap.

"How do you know if you're in love? I mean, there are so many types of love in the world how do you know if what you feel for someone is love-love or friendship love? Or what if it's not just friendship love but soulmate love but a deep friendship type soulmate and not a soulmate soulmate? When do you know the type of love and whether it's love and not just a feeling of liking being around someone?"

Zander twisted his head to the side to see his father's reaction. Though he knew his father wore his emotions close to his chest and hidden from the majority of the world, with Zander they were on full display. It was a combination of amusement, warmth, happiness, and thoughtfulness.

"Your second day at Hamilton and you've already found someone you love? That's encouraging."

"I already knew her before."

"Who is it?"

"Sophia Douglas."

"Ah. A brilliant and unique young lady."

"To me, she's like the weather and makes me think gray rainy days."

Though saying the words out loud, Zander understood how they came off as unconnected and nonsensical, his father nodded in understanding.

"I see. That explains why you're pondering the variations of love."

Zander sighed and went back to staring up at the ceiling. He thought of Sophia holding his hand because he's asked her to. It was small and delicate in his, a little cold and stiff but nice.

And she'd given it to him because he asked and didn't call him weird for wanting to have a hand to hold. It was a request he knew he'd never ask anyone else knowing that it could be misconstrued. But with Sophia, he knew he could trust her to accept or refuse and not hold it against him.

And she had smiled at him. A smile like rays of sunlight peeking out between clouds. Sunlight was always there, waiting to be seen and enjoyed but sometimes it took patience to see it. When she smiled he felt like he could catch sunbeams.

But did that constitute as love?

"When did you know you loved mom?" Zander asked.

"The second week I knew her. She laughed at something stupid I did. And I knew I wanted to be with someone who would laugh at my idiocy instead of judge me for it."

"That sounds like mom." 

A knock sounded on the door and Zander's father called out 'Enter'. The door opened and there was a pause before footsteps came and a second later a man came into view.

"Hello, Marcel," Zander said, sitting up, the aroma wafting off the tray enticing him.

"Hello, young sir. How is your day going?" Marcel said, his wide grin making his mustache smile as well.

"It's possible I might be in love but it's still undecided what level of love it is."

"Ah. Then eat, fuel for the heart and the head."

Marcel set the tray down next to them and backed up. "Bon appétit."

"Thank you, Marcel," Zander's father said.

"My pleasure, Mr. President."

When Marcel left, Zander and his father made work of emptying the tray. How his father managed to eat and never wrinkle or stain his suit, Zander could never figure out. He knew his uniforms were work for the laundry service since he didn't share the spotless habits of his father. But maybe he would later on when his limbs didn't feel like loose noddles attached to his body.

"What should I do with this feeling and the unspecific nature of it?" Zander asked.

"You let it be. Time will show you the depths of it. Do you know how Sophia feels about you?"

"I think she mildly tolerates me."

"Then I encourage you even more to do nothing but wait. You never want to force what you feel onto someone else. It is on you to be responsible for your emotions."

"Okay. I can do that. Right now my emotions tell me I want to be around her if she'll let me but if she doesn't want my presence that's okay too. It would be hard since she's the only person I know but I would rather have her at a distance than have her hate me for being too close."

"That's a good view to have it."

The phone on the desk buzzed and Gretchen's voice filled the office.

"Mr. President, I have President Kim Namjoon on the phone for you."

"I have to take this." Zander's father stood and rumpled Zander's hair before rounding the desk. "Leave the tray, I'll have it taken care of. President Kim, annyeonghaseyo."

Zander pushed himself to his feet and quietly walked to the door. As he picked up his backpack, his father waved goodbye at him and Zander waved back. He left with a sense of calm his father and the office always seemed to give him.

******

Wearing the suit that had appeared on his bed out of nowhere, Zander crossed to his parent's bedroom. The suit didn't have to have a note on it for him to know what it meant: a dinner with someone who held some sort of position.

He knew how these dinners went and had learned what he needed to do. Talk to the person nearest his age or the person seated beside him but don't talk too much. Cut his responses down to minimal sentences. Don't smile as big as he usually did since there would be photographers around and he felt his smile looked a bit manic when not thinking about it. As much as possible don't trip, spill, or make a disaster out of anything.

The guidelines were few but sometimes he still struggled with them. Luckily the Spanish ambassador's son was easygoing and didn't make a big deal about water being spilled onto his pants.

"Mère?" Zander called out at the open doorway.

"Mon chou," his mother answered.

Zander knew being called a cream puff by anyone other than his mother would be demeaning, in her lilting French voice, it felt like she was hugging him with the title.

Zander found his mother sitting at her vanity preparing for the evening. Through the reflection, she inspected his appearance but then fully turned around in her chair to give it more consideration. Zander held still waiting for his mother's improvement or approval.

"You look very handsome," she said, twisting back to mirrors. "Now tell me about this new love you have?"

Embarrassed, Zander walked to the bed and fell back on it. "You make it sound like I've had a lot of loves and this is only one of them and that by having a long line of crushes that this one means nothing."

"Oh. So it means something," his mother teased.

"Doesn't everything?" Zander asked.

"If we let it. Do you want to talk about it?"

"You're asking me that now even though you just teased me about it earlier when I hadn't brought it up at all. That doesn't seem to make any sense. You could have just not said anything and waited for me to say something but you didn't, so that means you want to know but you're trying to pretend your respectful."

His mother shrugged her slender shoulders and waved her hand airily. "You know me too well. I'm dying to know it all."

"What if I decided not to tell you anything."

He smiled tauntingly at his mother's reflection and she sighed dramatically. "Then I will fear I have lost my son's trust in me and I will be wounded for all my days."

She smiled at him and winked and somehow that small gesture made Zander feel special.

"It's Sophia Douglas," Zander said.

"Ah. I knew you'd never go for a simple girl."

"What are you talking about? Sophia is the simplest person I've ever met. She says what she's thinking and doesn't make me feel like I need to understand a million unspoken things. If you ask her a question, she'll answer it directly and not with a confusing answer. She's perfect."

"I see."

"And that's not all." Zander fell back on the bed and talked without ceasing, though when an attendant arrived to tell them it was time to go, he couldn't completely remember what he'd said. But his mother hugged him and the action told him that's what she'd wanted.

"She sounds very special," his mother whispered to him as they entered the State Dining Room.

Zander didn't get a chance to reaffirm this as they were guided to the evening's guests.

After shaking hands, Zander found himself before a girl around his age, beautifully put together and smiling at him. He reached out his hand to her.

"I'm Alexander, you can call me Zander. I will be your tablemate for tonight," he said.

The girl giggled but Zander didn't know what he'd said that would make her do so.

"I'm Regina," she said. "I'm happy to have you as my tablemate."

"What's something you find interesting?" Zander said, having learned it was better to find a common topic than wadding through boring pleasantries. "We can talk about anything you'd like to talk about. I have a lot of interests if you don't instantly have a topic that comes to mind. Which is okay, my brain shuts off sometimes. I-"

Zander cut himself off, knowing he'd exceeded his number of sentences and word count.

"You know I heard a lot about you but I didn't realize you'd be this cute," Regina said.

Cute. Zander wanted to sink to the floor, crawl underneath the table, and wait until one of the servers passed him food. When he'd first been called cute, he'd thought it was a fine compliment but he'd learned that there were many facets to it and he'd decided he didn't like any of them. Either they were based on his appearance which made him feel self-conscious. Or his personality and usually that meant they didn't take him seriously.

"Umm...okay," Zander said. "Uh, I know a lot about pandas. I could tell you panda facts if you'd find that interesting."

Regina laughed and Zander stood there, clueless as to why he kept getting this response. To the best of his ability, Zander spent the dinner trying to be pleasant to Regina as this was his job. But the amount of times she laughed didn't equal the amount of times he'd been attempting to be funny. As the night wore on, Regina's constantly baffling responses and reactions made Zander think more and more of Sophia.

Their first meal together though self-conscious at first, Zander had quickly found she was easy to understand since she meant everything she said.

The contrast between the two different meals lived parallel to each other in Zander's mind that by the next morning, it was still there and Zander asked George to make a stop before school. The result was two trays filled with a variety of the most bought drinks. He didn't know what most people did to show someone that they appreciated that person for being who they were but he thought something to drink might be one way.

As he walked through the school halls, a clear path was made for him as people approaching stepped out of the way or friends tugged their companions out of his path. The perpetual spotlight made Zander want to make George take the lead and hide behind his agent's sheer bulk. But he didn't want people to think he didn't appreciate their thoughtfulness for giving him room, so he smiled at everyone and waved with both hands, hoping the gestures were enough.

When he spotted Sophia at her locker, he nearly sagged to the floor in relief.

"Hey, Soph," he said, the size of his relief making him want to stay by her side and never leave it. 

Sophia closed her locker, removing the barrier between them. Zander knew what people said about her, they'd happily shared it with him when they'd noticed he talked to her. They said even though she might be pretty she had lifeless eyes and a dead expression. Zander didn't see that at all when he looked at her. He saw beautiful chocolate eyes that felt warm and open. Even her expression though it looked like a lack of an expression was comforting. Her expression was like her responses: straightforward.

"I understand you feel comfortable enough with me to want to give me a nickname," she said. "But could you please find a different one? I don't like Soph since it reminds me of a sofa and I don't care to be thought of as a piece of furniture."

Zander wanted to hug her because that answer made sense and it was nice to talk to someone who simply said what they meant. "That makes sense."

He smiled because he wanted to hug her but knew that he shouldn't since the last time he'd done it he'd been wrong to act on the impulse. After all, she hadn't asked for a hug and he should have contained his happiness. A hug was best given when approved by the person receiving the hug.

"I'll think of something different," Zander said. "Do you like coffee?"

"No."

"What about a latte?"

"That is still coffee."

"Okay. What about tea?"

"Only when it's cinnamon spice."

"Got it. How about hot chocolate?"

"Yes, but I don't care for whipped cream on it."

"Okay!" Zander turned to George, thrilled that one of the cups contained hot chocolate without whipped cream, he'd been dangerously close to running out of options. Finding the right drink, he took it out and handed it to her. She took it and sipped, nodding at the taste. Though he'd done nothing to make the drink and his only contribution was paying, he felt gratified that she'd enjoyed it.

"Hot chocolate with no whipped cream. I'll have the one with whipped cream."

"What will you do with the rest of the drinks?"

He hadn't thought about it but he figured someone in the school might want something hot to drink. "Give them to other people."

Sophia looked from the six other coffee cups to Zander.

"Did you buy a range of drinks in hopes that there would be one I liked?" Sophia asked.

"Yup!"

"Why?"

There were a million reasons and explaining them all he thought might be a bit overwhelming and long-winded. So he went with the top reason he could think of.

"Because you helped me yesterday and I'm grateful."

"Okay."

As Sophia sipped her drink, Zander realized George might be getting tired of holding the drinks. That meant passing them off as quickly as possible. Close to Sophia was Kennedy Keller and Harrison Evans. He knew them by name mostly but hadn't been truly introduced.

"Hi, I'm Zander. I'm the First Son which you know that so it's pointless for me to tell you that. But do you want something to drink? I have a lot and need to get rid of it. But not like I'm not happy for you to have something but... I need to pass them on."

Harrison grinned at Zander which Zander didn't mind since it was a kind grin and Kennedy studied Zander like he was an alien. This Zander also didn't mind since at least he didn't feel like she was judging him, just trying to figure out what planet he was from.

They took the black coffee and a latte. With four down, Zander had four more to go. He stepped out of the cocoon created around Sophia's locker and instantly a dozen people looked at him.

"Hi. I have four drinks, does anyone want one?"

Before Zander could even explain which each was, ten people asked for a drink. After dealing with the struggle of having to leave some without a drink, he apologized to them and thanked George for holding the trays.

"I feel the need to tell you something," Sophia said when he faced her with his drink.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Last night, my father decided that I'm not allowed to date until after high school," Sophia said.

The statement felt like it came out of nowhere but Zander knew Sophia said it for a reason. "Oh. Okay."

"Should we leave?" Harrison asked.

"I don't see why," Sophia said. "This information isn't private."

Harrison and Kennedy exchanged a look and glanced at Zander and he glanced back. He didn't know if their presence there would be a good thing or not. He hadn't talked about dating with Sophia the previous day. He might have talked about love with his parents but he hadn't thought beyond just wanting to be around her. Maybe that was the definition of dating in some cases. If so, did her father saying she couldn't date mean that he wasn't allowed to be near her?

"We're going to head out," Harrison said.

"Thanks for the drinks," Kennedy said.

Zander waved goodbye and focused on Sophia, trying to put his thoughts into one succinct question.

"I felt I should tell you," Sophia said before Zander could form the question. "Because after I told my father how I let you hold my hand he made the decision. This makes me think there is a correlation between his decision and you holding my hand. He might have believed something about your intentions. I don't know what your intentions would be beyond comfort but felt if you had any I should let you know right away. But he said I could still be friends with a boy."

"You can?"

"Yes."

A second wave of relief almost as overwhelming as the first one hit him. It felt so powerful he wanted to hug Sophia tightly because he wasn't going to have to lose her. But again, he reminded himself that it was not the right action. If hand-holding was prohibited then Zander felt that meant hugs as well, after all hand hand-holding was a form of a hug. But what mattered was that he could still be around Sophia.

"Then that's okay," Zander said. "It means I can walk you to your class."

"Okay."

As they walked, Zander smiled to himself seeing how Sophia continued to sip her hot chocolate. It meant he'd picked a good gift. After all, if she didn't like it then she didn't have to keep drinking it. It felt nice to know she liked his gift because the gift of walking beside her felt like one he wouldn't know how to give back.

"So," Zander said. "After high school, you can date."

"Correct."

That made it clear what to do then.

"So I'll set a date for graduation night."

"With me?"

"Yes."

"But that would require you to wait three years for the event. Wouldn't it be more logical to date other people in that time?"

He didn't see how it would be more logical. He'd found a person who he felt like himself with. Why would he go searching for someone else? And three years felt like a perfect amount of time to understand what meant when he used the word love in connection to her. It could prove to be friendship love or love-love. He felt three years would make it clear.

And for her? He felt three years would be a good amount of time for her as well.

"Date other people? That doesn't sound logical. Not to me," he said. "It means I have three years to make sure when I ask you on that date that you say yes without having to weigh and measure."

Sophia smiled at him and Zander knew he was making the right decision. After all, she was his gray, rainy day.

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Freaking fiddlesticks!

Is this kid allowed to be this cute? I don't think this is allowed? I think this is technically illegal? Shoot! Does that mean I'm about to get arrested? Dang! If I am, that means one of you is either going to have to bail me out or break me out. Either one works, I can't go into prison, you know I wouldn't survive.

Anyways, before the cops, the FBI, CIA break down my door tell me your thoughts. 💭💬🗯

If the FBI come maybe I can name drop Carter and Donovan and be let off with a warning. Okay, yeah that's the play I'll go with. If it's the cops or CIA then I'll just have to make a run for it. It's the only way. I mean, I'll forever live my life on the run but its the price we author's have to pay sometimes.

Know if I have to change my name and dye my hair that this was fun while it lasted. You were always so kind to me and I'll never forgot you okay.

Vote, comment, follow for old times sake. After all, this could be the last time we see (read) each other (nope that sounds weird, I'll just stick with see each other)