"Enjolras!"
"Combeferre."
"What are you doing?"
"What I always do."
"And why are you standing on a table?"
"I don't know. Dramatic effect?"
"Do you need dramatic effect?"
"I need to keep Grantaire awake somehow."
"He pays attention to you anyway."
"Whatever. Why do you care?"
"That table is not sturdy enough to stand on."
"I don't care."
"But I do." I put out my hand, grabbed his, and gently pulled him off of the table.
"What about that one?" He pointed to another table across from the unsteady one.
"Go ahead and stand on it." He climbed on top of it and restarted his lecture, making Feuilly and Laigle groan. I just rolled my eyes and went back to taking notes on his lecture and reading my textbook.
"Apollo, what are you going on about now?" Enjolras looked up at Grantaire and frowned. I glared at the drunk, who sat back down.
"Grantaire, you've been drinking too much. Put the bottle down." He said harshly, and the wine cask obeyed. He always did everything Enjolras said. I looked around and noticed that I was the only one truly paying attention to mon ami's lecture, so I pushed my glasses up on my nose and walked over to him. I put my hand on his arm to get his attention.
"Enjolras, maybe it's time to stop for the day." I said quietly.
"Why would that be?"
"Look around. It's been a long day." I gestured to Les Amis scattered around the back room. Laigle and Bahorel were playing cards, Grantaire was pathetically drunk, Jehan was singing quietly to himself and playing with a flower, Joly was flipping urgently through my forgotten medical textbook, Feuilly was sketching a fan design, Corfeyrac was joking with Marius about women and romance. Enjolras nodded and as he was stepping off the table, he tripped. I reached out and caught him and he ended up mere centimeters away from my face. Of course, it was at that moment when Joly looked up and saw us and dropped my book with a loud crash. Everybody else looked up at the sound and either gave us a look of surprise or snickered.
"We all knew it would happen someday." Corfeyrac snickered. "Enjolras and Combeferre."
"I…er…" I looked at Enjolras, took a step back, and blushed.
"Look at him, all in love with the fearless leader." Corfeyrac teased.
"Combeferre…I'm confused. What is Corfeyrac talking about?" Innocent Joly said from behind my book, which he had picked up and was using to hide his face.
"Keep your hands off my Apollo." Grantaire snarled. "He isn't desperate enough to want you."
"Grantaire, enough." Enjolras said sternly.
"You aren't desperate enough for this pathetic excuse, right? I mean, look at him. Even women don't like him. Don't waste your love on him. He doesn't deserve it." Grantaire sneered at Enjolras and me and everybody laughed. I turned even more red and ran out of the café, my glasses falling off in the hurry to put my coat on. I didn't even care. I just ran.
"Stop this at once, Grantaire. I do not love him." I heard Enjolras yell at him. Tears stung my eyes as I ran even faster. I stopped at the bridge over the Seine River and leaned on the rail. I looked over my shoulder, hoping in vain to see Enjolras running after me. He was not. My tears fell down off the bridge and into the river. Could I ever go back to the Friends of the ABC? No, probably not. After that debacle? It would be pointless. They would never again respect me. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder, but couldn't see who it was behind me, so I didn't turn around. Small gentle hands slowly pushed my glasses onto my nose and everything came clear. I turned around to see Joly.
"Combeferre, you're crying." He said quietly. I sniffled and wiped away my tears. "Are you hurt? Can I help you?"
"No, I'm not hurt. Not physically."
"Mental pain is just as dangerous as physical." I sniffled and he hugged me. "It'll be okay, 'Ferre. I'll take care of you."
"Thank you, Joly. You don't have to."
"I'm worried for you. Did you hear what happened to Inspector Javert? He had to be talked out of a suicide attempt on this very bridge. I know you'll deny thinking about it, but you and Enjolras are zealous and a bit dramatic. I'm scared about you." He squeezed my hands and I smiled.
"Thank you." I squeezed his hands lightly back. All of a sudden, I felt nauseous and lightheaded. I put my hand on my forehead and leaned on the edge of the bridge.
"'Ferre?" He looked at me with concern.
"Joly, I don't feel so good." I said urgently.
"'Ferre? Are you okay?" He responded nervously. I shook my head no and leaned even harder on the bridge, feeling I would either throw up or pass out at any moment. I slid down until I was sitting on the ground, still queasy and dizzy. Joly kneeled down next to me, eyes wide with concern. He felt my forehead and tilted my chin up. He looked into my gray eyes with his big green ones and frowned.
"Joly, I really don't feel well."
"Come on. We're going to my apartment." He grabbed my hands and pulled me up. I stumbled a bit from standing so quickly, but he put his arm around my shoulder and half carried me back to his apartment. When we got there, I flopped down in a chair and leaned back. Joly ran and brought back a glass of water.
"Drink this." He ordered. I started sipping it slowly. He pulled my book out of his bag and scrutinized it.
"For what are you searching?" I asked weakly. He held up a finger and continued flipping pages.
"You have Generalized Anxiety Disorder." He diagnosed.
"I what?"
"That's the disease you have."
"No, I can't."
"It's right here in the book." He pointed out to me where it explained that I did, in fact, have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I was shocked. I had no time for Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I had a revolution to plan! I had to get home and study for my finals! I had a dissection tomorrow morning! I had to fix things with Enjolras! My heart raced and I fell back into the chair, the water spilling all over me. Joly's eyes widened and he grabbed a towel and a new glass of water.
"Thank you." I said, drying myself off with the towel.
"What happened?" He asked, concerned.
"Well, the book says that this is brought on by extreme stress or worry."
"What were you thinking about?"
"Uh…Schoolwork."
"And?"
"The barricades."
"Anything else?" I hesitated. After that debacle, did I want him to know? Well, it was necessary for the medical aspect of it. And I could trust Joly.
"Enjolras." I mumbled, looking down and blushing.
"Pardon?"
"Enjolras." I mumbled again, probably even more incoherently.
"Combeferre, I can't understand what you're saying if you keep mumbling."
"Enjolras. I was thinking about Enjolras." I said bravely, as if I was confessing to a crime.
"I see." Joly smiled. "And what do you think about him?"
"I…don't know. I guess…" I thought of everything we'd been through. Sharing an apartment, we made a lot of memories. We just clicked. Well, I thought we did. I didn't know anymore. A tear fell down my face again and I suddenly felt sick. I put my hand on my stomach, startling Joly.
"What's wrong?" He asked, startled and concerned.
"Joly, I'm going to be sick." I rushed to his kitchen and was sick in the dish washing pail. He silently walked up behind me and took my glasses and wiped them off on his shirt. When I was finished, he put them back on my face and hugged me from behind. Much to my dismay, I started sobbing.
"It'll be okay, 'Ferre." He said soothingly.
"But…"
"Forget about school and the ABC and especially Enjolras."
"But I can't."
"You don't need to think about school. You don't even need to study. You always get the best grades in the class anyway. All of the Professors love you."
"That's not my main concern."
"Enjolras and Jehan and I can lead the ABC until you get better. And Corfeyrac will keep Marius from going on about that girl of his. We can handle it. We won't revolt without you."
"That's not it either."
"I see. Enjolras." I squirmed a bit at his name and started sipping my water.
"I believe that's it, Joly."
"I see. Well, what do you think about him? Why does he concern you so much?"
"I don't know. He's my roommate."
"It's more than that."
"He's my friend."
"As is Jehan, and you don't throw up all over my house when he gets in trouble."
"He's like my brother. And he always will be only that." I looked down, saying that last part to myself. Joly nodded in understanding.
"Will only ever be that? What do you mean?" He pressed.
"Never mind. Forget I said it."
"You love him, don't you?" I was silent for a while. I didn't know. I thought I did.
"I…think so."
"Are you going to be sick again?"
"Don't think so."
"Good. I don't want you getting sick all over the place."
"I won't." He smiled and sat on the chair next to me.
"This isn't contagious, right?" He asked worriedly, jumping up. "I think I'm already sick."
"No, Joly." He scooched in close to me and put an arm around my shoulder.
"It'll be okay."
"No, it won't."
"It's okay to love."
"No, it isn't."
"Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not."
"Are you going to throw up?"
"No, I'm not."
"Good." He smiled. "So, you love Enjolras, but you hate love?"
"Yes. But it's more complicated than that."
"Why?"
"I…don't know. He doesn't love me back. He said so today." I looked down and thought about today's events. There was no possible way he could love me. He shouted it to the whole café.
"As Jehan would say, love leaves us all brokenhearted. We just need to put the pieces back together and start the puzzle over until we find the piece that completes us." Joly said dramatically.
"Jehan would say that."
"Yes, I think he would. Hey, I should become a poet!"
"Oh, please don't. One is enough." I shook my head. We both laughed and he sat back down in the chair.
"But really, don't give up on love."
"Love is not logical."
"Life is not logical."
"But I am logical."
"Of course you are. But nothing else is, which makes you illogical."
"So, if chaos is normal, logic is abnormal, so chaos is logic, and logic is chaos. Which would make me chaotic and Grantaire logical, blowing apart everything I've thought of for the last few years, including love, which is now logical, as logic is chaos."
"Er…yes? I'm lost." I stared at him for a second and he bursted out in a fit of laughter. I started laughing as well, forgetting the cause of my distress. It lasted for a while, until the knocker was heard on his door and he got up to answer it. The voice from the other side ruined it.
"Joly, is 'Ferre in there with you? He scared me after that meeting. I need to talk to him." It was Enjolras. My head started spinning and I stood up. I had to see him, to talk about what had happened, to see if he still cared about me, to offer my resignation from the ABC.
"Yeah, but I don't think it's a good time…"
"But I need to see him!" Enjolras persisted.
"But Enjolras, now is really a bad time. I just calmed him down."
"Joly, what do you mean, calmed him down?"
"See, there's this…" Joly was pushed aside as Enjolras pushed through the door frame and into the medical student's apartment. He gaped at my paleness.
"Combeferre, what happened?"
"I…You…I'm…I'm resigning." I stuttered, meeting his concerned blue gaze.
"You're…resigning? From the ABC?" He said, shocked.
"Yes. You…don't care…about me…too awkward…" I could barely get the words out. My throat was dry and the tears were spilling like crazy. He stepped toward me and put his hands on my shoulders.
"I do care, mon ami. What are you talking about? You're my friend and you always will be." After these words, I just couldn't take it. Too much thought was going through my head. Too many emotions were swirling all over. Too many thoughts. Too little logic. There was nothing else I could do.
~~~.0.0.~~~
"Combeferre!" I yelled as my best friend passed out in my arms. Maybe this is what Joly was talking about. In that case, maybe I should not have barged in. If 'Ferre was awake, he would have told me to use logic. But as that was not the case, I did not.
"Joly? Something's wrong with 'Ferre." I said cautiously. I received no answer from the medical student. I lifted my bespectacled friend and carried him into Joly's bedroom. I laid him down on the bed and sat by his side. I just wanted to hold him and tell him it would be alright. Looking at his unconscious form, I couldn't bear to do anything but that. I picked up his head and cradled it in my lap, whispering to him. I must have been crazy, but I could have sworn he could hear me. He looked so worried and sick, I couldn't stand it. I hugged his head to my chest and kissed his cold forehead. He stirred.
"Enjolras…" He mumbled. I hugged him tighter and he cuddled into me.
"'Yes, Combeferre?" He shivered and moved closer to me.
"Enjolras…" He mumbled again.
"I'm here, 'Ferre." He put his arms around my shoulder and nuzzled in closer, looking like a child that had been hit by a carriage. He groaned and I grimaced. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at me through a hazy stare.
"Enjolras, I…er…I love you." He stuttered, bright red.
Alright. So, I wrote this while feverish and delirious. If you were highly offended by my feverish ramblings, I would like to say that I apologize, but I do not. There is nothing highly offensive in this piece of literature, and I cannot believe you when you try to tell me that I ruined Victor Hugo's masterpiece forever. If I did, I most likely would have been assassinated by now. Repeatedly. On a barricade. So you don't need to waste both my time and yours with random and pointless hyperbole that is completely irrelevant and illegitimate. I am a very busy person. I have no time to waste reading insults about everything from my life to my writing style to my mother when they have nothing to do with my story. I have explained previously that I was in a state of fever-induced delirium and was clearly not at the high point of my writing career at that moment. None of us can truly say we have never had a day when we were just completely out of it. It rarely happens to me, but it did, so deal with it. If you feel the need to display to me your vocabulary of colorful words or tell me that I have ruined your life forever, I must ask you to please refrain from doing so. If you feel the need to insult me profusely, by all means, feel free to tell your cat. Or write it in your journal. Or sleep and have dreams of yelling at me 'til your heart's content. But please, I don't care, so don't waste our time. You simply make both of us look bad. So, I thank you for your time. Try not to waste any more of mine. And if I have ruined your life and all future hopes you may have had for living happily, I must kindly suggest that you see a psychologist. I'm sorry that I had to give this lecture, as I had assumed, clearly wrongly, that we were mature literary artists here and could critique each other without the comments laced with profanities and insults with no clear logical relevancy to the story for which one was critiquing another. If you are offended by my sardonic logic in my lectures, that's a shame, but I can't be led to believe it's the worst you've endured.
- SH
