Eponine's head throbbed. A hangover seemed to rattle through her skull as her eyes adjusted to the unbearable sunlight. It had been her first high school party and as excited as Eponine was, remembering it might have been a tad bit nicer.

She knew that this wasn't her room or any room in her house for that matter. It had some sense of familiarity to it, but nothing she could point out especially as her head ached. She was both sweating and freezing and she could barely taste vomit on the back of her throat. Her lips were dry and cracked and her skin itched, dry from sweat.

What the hell did you do, Eponine?

It was then that Eponine felt the king-sized bed stir next to her. In the fifteen seconds she had been awake, she had barely noticed how truly and unabashedly naked she was. But she was now aware of her breasts that rested on top of the sheets, which thankfully, lined most of her chest in egyptian cotton.

Suddenly, the man stirred again, his arm snaking around the spare pillow lying by his chest. Eponine prayed that it was someone at least halfway decent. Someone that Eponine knew a little bit. Because a total stranger would have been a red mark right on Eponine's conciense. She

At 15, Eponine had given away the one thing she truly owned to a boy she wasn't in love with. She felt a knot in her stomach tighten. There was no going back. A virginity cannot simply be reclaimed and Eponine knew that. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she glanced around the room, trying to grab her clothes as quietly as possible. Because, whoever was asleep in the bed might wake up.

And looking at him and realizing that what had happened was real was too much for Eponine to begin to process or feel.

She was a freshman. She didn't understand why she had gone to a stupid party in the first place. The condom lying on the ground next to her foot confirmed what she already knew was true. Her blouse that she had ironed to perfection was in a messy heap on the ground as was her skirt. Her underwear were on the lampshade and her bra was flung across the bedpost. The mattress squeaked in the quietest fashion as she pulled her bra off the bed and pulled it on. Everything she did seemed to be 2000 times louder than usual.

Eponine had to leave and soon. Walking seemed to shoot pains through her stomach and she threw on her clothes, her blouse inside out and very see-through. She cursed at the fact that she couldn't find her undershirt, but knew not to linger.

As she fled the room, she glanced back at the bed and there lying on the bed, his shirt off and his arm clinging to a pillow, laid Ricky Enjolras. The most popular senior in the school and also the richest. Football player, typical jock and a family friend. He was her older brother's best friend. She began to feel herself become sick. Not only mentally, but also physically. She knew something had seemed familiar, but she hadn't been able to recall.

And that was when it all came flooding back.

The party was in full effect. Even though Eponine knew that she shouldn't have been there, she had showed up on a whim. And she didn't regret it at all.

"'Ponine, you shouldn't be here," Enjolras warned. He was six inches taller than her and muscular. His letterman jacket seemed to hide his body in a way Eponine wished it didn't. She giggled, her hand gripping the full Solo cup and her other hand resting on Enjolras' chest, "You could get into serious trouble,"

"And?" Eponine slurred, trying to find balance. The room was dimly lit and music seemed to seep under the shut door. Something pop and something Eponine would have usually disliked, "C'mon, Enjy, let's have some fun,"

The last thing she remember was her lips pressed against his.