You'll realize here that chapter length varies greatly. Whoops? Also these first updates'll all be quick since, y'know, cross-posting.
ALSO, I've decided to post this under 'book' instead of 'play' because, even as a Modern AU, I try my best to work off of book canon/modernize canon events. Feedback is always welcome but yeah. :) Just thought it'd be important to note.
Chapter summary: Sometimes all it takes is a lot of awkwardness and a little compassion to make a new friend.
Greetings
Courfeyrac wishes she could say she was on time to her first class of the school year. She really does. And honestly—she tried. But she's got outfit anxiety (because professors) and even after being there a year she manages to turn down the wrong corridor. The result is that she's four minutes late on a day everyone else is extremely punctual, and so she slides into the desk right next to the door in the front row. The kid a desk over fucking beams.
"Courfeyrac," she says when the professor looks at her expectantly. She can see him find her, because his brow furrows just a fraction: she spits out "I go by 'Lily'" before he can ask. Thankfully, he just nods, hands down a syllabus, and continues with his start of term speech.
Next to her, this boy (?boy? Courfeyrac can't be sure, but he's wearing a paisley bowtie with a loose floral button up) is scribbling away in his notebook. It's tilted toward her, since he's a leftie in a right-handed desk, but the letters are so scrawling and slanted they are hard to read.
When he notices her staring, he blushes to the tips of his ears.
"We're starting with basic discussion questions," their professor says, "they're up on the board, I'll give you five minutes—partner up with the people around you."
Courfeyrac smiles at the boy, who's still pink around the edges. "Partners?" she asks, feeling much more put together than when she'd entered class. The boy nods.
"Y-yeah," he squeaks, then shakes his head. "Sorry," he replies more steadily a second later, "I get nervous meeting new people and… first day of college, you know." Courfeyrac grins.
"Awwww, you're a freshman?" she coos. The boy's cheeks tinge pink.
"It's an intro class…" he murmurs, but glances around like he can confirm he's not the only freshman there.
"You're right, you're right—sorry for teasing. I'm probably the one who should be taunted, being a sophomore and all of that." She tucks an unruly strand of hair behind her ear and says, "I'm Lily Courfeyrac, by the way." She extends her hand, larger than she likes; the boy takes it without hesitating. His grip is gentle, hand thin and almost feminine.
"Jean—well, Jehan, Prouvaire," he says. Then he glances down, and goes a nervous red as he says, "and today I use the pronouns he, him, and his."
It's not something that happens often, so it catches her off guard. He's used the same phrase Enjolras favors every time ze meets a new person, so Courfeyrac quickly gathers her bearings and says, "I use she, her, and hers."
Jehan smiles at her a little more surely and glances at the board. "So, favorite literature experience so far?"