He was never mine to lose...
The next morning I knock on Marius' apartment door. He answers. "Yes?" He says.
"I have found her," I say.
"The girl?" Marius asks.
"Yes," I say.
"Please tell me her name," Marius says.
"It's Cosette," I say. "She lives at Rue Plummet. I can take you there, Monsieur."
Marius' face lights up. "That would be wonderful," he says.
"This way," I say.
I lead him down the quiet streets of Paris. "Not many people out today," I comment.
"No, I guess not," he says.
"I wonder why that is. Last time I was out here there were more people out. It was a different time of the day. That's probably why. More people in the evening. That's probably why," I say. I realize I'm rambling and stop talking.
"How much further?" Marius asks.
"Not much," I say.
We walk a block in silence. I feel weird. Why can't I speak to him like I do everyone else?
"How are things going with the revolution?" I ask.
"We are planning to rebel on the day of General Lamarque's funeral," Marius says.
"You are all so brave. I wish I could be out there with you," I say.
Marius stops. "You can't do that," he says. "It's too dangerous."
"I'm just as tough as all of you," I say.
Marius chuckles. "You are the most strong willed girl I've ever met."
"Is that a good thing?"
"Can be," he says.
I smile at him and for a split second forget where we're going. Then it sinks in. We walk by Cosette's gate. "Here's the place. Good luck Monsieur."
"No need to always call me Monsieur," Marius says. "Just Marius is fine."
"Alright, Just Marius. I'll be going now," I say. He tilts his head at me. Is smile and disappear behind the shrubs.
I find a place out of sight to watch from. Marius stands by the gate. Cosette comes out of the house and stands by him. She gazes into his eyes. He gazes into hers. They speak but I can't hear them from my hiding place. Marius takes her hand through the gate.
They speak for what seems like forever. I can tell they're in love. I hurts. Then he kisses her. I run from my hiding spot through the streets. I sit at a park bench and cry.
...
Things in my life started to go downhill around three years after Cosette left us. I was eleven, Azelma was nine, and Gavroche was five. We had another brother, Little Baby Pierre. My mother was pregnant. Things were not going well for us. Father called us to the living room.
"Now children, listen," he says. "Our inn is failing. We have no money."
"Why," Gavroche asks. "You always have money. And when you don't you just take other people's money."
"Quiet Gavroche," Father snaps. "Now listen. Your Mum and I think it will be easier to make a living in Paris. There is more work there-"
"Since when do you work? And of course there are more jobs but there's also more people to take them," Gavroche says.
"Quiet Gavroche!" Father shouts.
Azelma begins to cry. "I love Monfermeil. I don't want to be a Parisian."
"This has already been settled," Mother says.
"When are we leaving?" I ask.
"Next month," Father says.
"That's not enough time," Azelma cries. "My friend told me Paris is full of rats."
"So 's Monfermeil. What do you think's in the sausages," Gavroche says.
"Who told you that?" I ask Azelma.
"Bertrand. The boy you fought with," Azelma says.
"Paris Isn't full of rats," I say.
"Since when are you an expert 'Ponine?" Gavroche says. "And who cares about rats? I like them."
Azelma winces. "I'm not going," she says.
"You have no choice," Father says.
