A/N: Hey, I'm back! OK, just to warn you, this chapter sucks. It is for plot-building purposes only. I won't post another chapter until I have at least ten total reviews, so if you like the story, tell me!

It was the next day, and a meeting was about to take place in the cafe. Enjolras was first to arrive as usual, and was waiting for the others/posing in his vest in front of a random mirror.

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked Courferac, looking absolutely miserable. Not even noticing Enjolras' manly poses, he plopped into a chair and buried his face in his arms.

Enjolras blinked at Courferac's OOC-ness. "Um- what's wrong?" he questioned cautiously.

Courferac looked up, his eyes bloodshot from crying. "I have to go to Britain for spring break! I'll have to drink tea and swear by the queen's jewels and go to tea parties and- and- I just don't know if I'm ready to visit a place where people's lives are exactly the same as they are in Oliver!"

Enjolras frowned slightly. "Wait- you have to? Who's making you?"

Courferac sighed. "My parents."

"Hold on a second." Enjolras stopped him. "You're a college student living far away from your family, you are a grown man, you're in a freaking group of Revolutionarieswho are fighting for freedom, and you still do whatever your parents tell you to?!"

Courferac sniffled. "Uh-huh."

Just then, Feuilly stumbled into the cafe, moaning, "Noooo..." He collapsed at the table next to Courferac.

"Where are you going for Spring break?" Courferac asked dejectedly.

Feuilly's eyes filled with tears. Finally, he stammered out, "I'm going to- to- GERMANY! And- not POLAND!" and began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Wait a second, Feuilly. You don't even have parents who would make you go to Germany. You could have gone to Poland anyway!" Enjolras reprimanded Feuilly.

"Nuh-uh." Feuilly disagreed.

"And why not?"

Feuilly looked as though he was about to have an emotional breakdown. "I didn't have enough Frequent Flyer miles on my credit card!"

Enjolras and Courferac stared at him. Slowly, Courferac spoke. "You didn't have enough what?"

"On your what?" asked Enjolras. But it didn't matter because the rest of the Amis were coming in, and Enjolras had to begin the meeting.

Standing up on a table, Enjolras could see all of the Amis. Almost none of them looked happy.

"Alright," Enjolras began. "First order of business- where is everyone going for Spring Break?"

Combeferre was the first to pipe up. "I'm going to see America!"

"I have to stay here in Paris..." sighed a disapointed Bossuet.

"I wod a trip to sobe islad called Hawaii off ad offer in the back of by adatoby textbook." Joly stated.

"I'm off to Scotland whare the legal drinking age is FOUR!" Cheered Grantaire.

Bahorel stood still, anger raging in his eyes. "I'm being sent to see my friend's sister's husband's stepcousin- Napoleon."

"And what about you, Jehan?" asked Combeferre.

Jehan looked embarassed. "Um- yes, well- Mymothersignedmeupforbootcamp." He said as quickly as possible.

Enjolras glared at them. "I suppose your parents are all the ones who arranged this?"

The Amis all nodded earnestly.

"So, where are you going for Spring Break, Enjolras?" Asked Bahorel suddenly.

"Oh- I don't konw yet." He responded politely. "I'll probably just say here." Enjolras casually slid his hand into his back pocket. He frowned. Something was in it- a piece of paper. Enjolras pulled it out and unfolded it, remembering that he had recieved a letter that moring and put it in his pocket, meaning to read it later. His eyes widened as he scanned the letter, Bahorel watching him. When Enjolras slowly lowered the note from his face, he was pallid and shaking.

"What is it?" Bahorel frowned, knowing something was amiss.

For Spring Break- I- I'm visiting my parents."

A/N: How's THAT for a good cliffhanger? Oh, and by the way, that thing about Scotland- it's true.