It was the next day, and I was in the make-up room in my hidden attic talking to Azelma.
"Do you think this shade of brown will make my eyes stand out enough with this outfit, Azelma?" I asked my pal, who was now an accomplished make-up and hair artist.
"But of course, it makes the blues in your eyes look FABULOUS!"
"Great! You know, I wonder if Enjolras took what I said yesterday to heart. Do you think he actually got a job?"
"Oh, I hope so," Azelma replied, while putting my hair into a bun. "I'll be so strange if I can't watch him dancing to "The Jellicle Ball" in his Tugger costume through the crack in the wall."
"What are you talking about?"
Azelma motioned to a small crack in the attic wall, which left a full view of Enjolras' bedroom. Sure enough, the Tugger costume was right there, lying on a 'dance step' chart.
"Well," I said, not nearly as surprised as I should have been. "You learn something new every day, now don't you!"
And soon we were walking into the attic common room, only to see Enjolras sitting at the Breakfast table reading a - gasp! - a big, amazing, fierce, NEWSPAPER! He was wearing a suit with a deep blue tie.
"Well, doesn't SOMEONE look professional today," I said to him, smiling. He looked very spiffing!
"What can I say. I just went out and got a job. It was quite easy, really. Places are quite soft on who they hire these days," he told me, with a strange look of pride in his face.
"You'll have to tell me how your day goes!"
"Oh, I think you'll know…I mean, never mind!"
"Well, I'm just glad you were able to stand up. Anyway, I have to go now. My mom is expecting me to eat breakfast with her today, and I don't want her to start getting suspicious."
"Suspicious about what?" finally, the protagonist, Jean Valjean, gets a part in this lovely story.
"About you guys, of course! I'm surprised she hasn't found out already, anyway. How can you not know when your daughter is hiding a bunch of nineteenth century criminals in her attic?"
"Ahem, ahem…" Javert hinted to me as he walked through the portrait hole.
"Alright, nineteenth century criminals and crazy Inspectors who need to get a life."
"Thank you. All I ask is for a little recognition."
"Anyway, I'll see you all after school - bye!"
And so I went off to school. The entire day, the thing that was in my mind was Enjolras' face as I left. He seemed to be up to something. I decided that by the end of the day, I would find out if he had really gone to work. What else would I do when I got home - homework? Ha! What a joke!
I went through the school day quite contently, and finally it was time for last period - English. I was somehow excited for this class, as our English teacher had just retired to Florida (what can I say, it's what old people do!) and I wanted to find out who our new victim would be…
So, I walked into the class, only to hear a room full of gossiping girls and glowering boys. I sat down beside my good friend Cassandra, who spoke to me with a very content tone.
"Oh- my- gosh! Have you seen the new teacher? He is such a hottie! So, have you seen him?"
"No, I haven't. What's his name?"
"I don't really know. I can't really pronounce it."
She started making odd noises, as if she were trying to say his name, but she was cut off when the door flew open.
"ENJOLRAS!" I screamed in horror, my eyes open wide.
"Yeah, that's it. Ahnadapolis or something…"
I glared at the man who was now standing at the front of the room. He smiled at me with a look of extreme pride.
"Now, Michelle, I would ask that you don't speak out of turn in class. Also, my name is Professor Enjolras to you, as it is to all of the rest of the students."
It was terrible. The worst thing that could ever happened had just happened. My new English teacher was Enjolras.