Éponine and Cosette go bowling for their next date, which is Cosette's idea, which is adorable. Éponine's been bowling maybe once in her life, years ago, and she kind of remembers quitting halfway through to go play Mrs. Pac-Man at the alley's arcade.
"It isn't a milk bottle toss," Cosette laughs after one of Éponine's attempts. "You don't need to throw it. There are no extra points for loft."
"Well, maybe there should be," says Éponine, putting on mock defensiveness mostly to make Cosette laugh again. "It's hard enough. That ain't no wiffleball." It works, and Cosette laughs. "You have a great laugh," she points out.
Cosette blushes, which is possibly even better than the laugh. She presses her hands to her pink cheeks and smiles, then takes her turn bowling. Éponine doesn't know enough to actually comment on Cosette's form, but she looks pretty amazing. And she bowls a spare, so she must have done something right.
"So you got my story last time," says Cosette as Éponine picks up her ball. She bowls straight into the gutter. "I want to hear yours."
"No you don't," says Éponine. "It's not much fun."
"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine," says Cosette. "Just don't skip it because you think I'm not interested."
Éponine waits for her ball to be returned without speaking, then knocks down three pins. She chews on the inside of her cheek as her pins reset.
"Well, like, you met my parents," she says, her tone matter-of-fact. Cosette nods. "Yeah. They're pretty much like that… you know, all the time. As much as the terrible, terrible idea of taking foster kids sucked for the foster kids—it eventually ended up getting somebody to clue in about how they were the worst." Cosette takes her turn bowling, doesn't stare at Éponine while she speaks, but Éponine can feel her listening.
"So yeah, I got my turn in the foster system, with people thankfully much better than you got. Emancipated minor, grabbed my little brother Gavroche when I got old enough to get approved. Azelma, maybe you remember her—did the emancipated minor thing too, on her own. I offered to let her stay with me but she wanted to do her own thing, which is cool. I think she's gunning for a college scholarship these days."
"So Gavroche still lives with you?" asks Cosette. "That's really cool. How old is he?"
"Ten," says Éponine. "Fourth grade. "He's crazy smart and he knows it, gives me a hell of a time." She warns herself to stop talking, she sounds like a mom, nobody wants to date a girl with a kid. But Cosette's just smiling, and it's not a polite or a forced smile. It's just nice, it's bright and interested and kind of admiring. It's miles from the "you're so brave" schtick, but it's also good to be looked at like someone worth looking at. It's really good.
Éponine bowls two solid gutter balls, then turns back around and bows, to Cosette's laughter and applause. "What's Azelma trying for a scholarship in, do you know?" Cosette says as she gets up to take her turn. "It's some kind of essay thing," she says. "Hell if I know." Cosette bowls a strike. Éponine can't seem to stop grinning.
"This is ridiculous," says Marius.
"Agreed," says Courfeyrac, carefully folding the flier he was handed on their walk across campus. Marius fiddles with his notebook on the desk in front of him.
"I'm just going to ask her out," he says.
"Good idea," says Courfeyrac.
"When she comes in, I'll just… say hi, how are you doing, I was wondering… That's too abrupt, that's gonna be weird."
"Marius…" Courfeyrac sighs. He tears off a clean strip from the flier along a fold.
"I don't want to be weird," Marius frets.
"God forbid," agrees Courfeyrac.
"You're not helping," Marius points out. Courfeyrac sighs again, his best longsuffering sigh, as he continues to fold the flier.
"I have no help for you, dude. I am a wellspring of perfect advice but even I have got nothing for asking a girl out without asking her out or you not being weird."
"You think she thinks I'm weird?" Marius whimpers.
"I think you can hardly help but be weird, my weird friend. But plenty of people like weird." He sharpens a crease with his fingernail. "But by all means, put it off longer. Somebody else will beat you to the punch and I'll finally be able to ignite that fireworks show I have set up waiting on top of the student union that spells 'I told you so' in the sky over the quad in gold glitter."
Cosette Fauchelevent walks in, down the classroom aisle, and takes her seat a few rows in front of the two boys. She must feel Marius's eyes on her, because she turns around and throws him a bright, warm smile.
After she turns back around, there is a brief silence before Marius moans quietly and puts his forehead down on the desk. Courfeyrac opens up the transformed flier, tucking down the point of one end into a beak.
"Better luck Thursday, buddy," he says, perching his origami crane in Marius's hair.
"I met somebody," Cosette blurts into a pause in supper conversation. Her father looks up from his meal in surprise. Cosette punctuates her statement with a quick smile, and then returns to studiously mixing ketchup into her mashed potatoes with her fork.
"That's excellent news," Valjean says, very nearly as though he means it. He licks his lips uncertainly. "Uh, you mean met someone as in…?"
"As in I'm seeing somebody," she says.
Valjean smiles encouragingly despite his sinking heart. "That's great, dear. What's his name?"
Cosette keeps her eyes on her mashed potatoes that are slowly turning pink. "Éponine," she says after a long pause. The name is followed by a still longer one. She dares a glance up from her plate, to find her father staring at her blankly.
"Éponine," he says finally.
"Yeah," she replies. Another silence.
"That's a girl's name," he clarifies. She nods. He nods too, slowly. "Is… he… a girl?"
"Yes, Papa," Cosette says. Valjean cuts a piece of his Salisbury steak, puts it in his mouth, chews it. Cosette is holding her breath. Valjean swallows.
"Well, we'll have to have her over to supper," he says. "What's she like?"
Cosette lets her breath out in a gust. Her smile is radiant. "Oh Papa," she says. "She's wonderful."
"God, you don't even know, you should've seen her," Éponine sighs to Feuilly. They are sitting in their favorite laundromat, drinking Dunkin coffee at six in the morning, watching their laundry spin in the washing machines. It's just before class for Feuilly and work for Éponine, one of the few times the two both aren't busy. "She had on this pink dress thing and silver earrings and cream-colored jeans and she looked like a flower. And then we rented these big terrible blue and green bowling shoes, they were the worst, and she didn't look stupid at all, she stood there, this fairy in bowling shoes, and she smiled like Miss America and bowled like a league champion. I dunno, Feuilly, I think I'm in love."
"And let me guess, instead of going home you sat out in the parking lot and talked for hours," he smiles.
Éponine smirks back at him. "Well we did hang out in the parking lot for hours," she says. "And it was mostly talking."
Feuilly yawns and smiles at her, and takes a sip of his coffee. "It's really good to see you so happy," he says. "And it's really good to hear you talking this way about someone who isn't Marius." Éponine's face immediately falls, and Feuilly sighs. "Oh no, I jinxed it. What, are you still into Marius, then?"
Éponine slumps down in the plastic seat. "Finding the most perfect girl ever doesn't mean my brain gets an automatic love reset," she mutters into her coffee. Then she looks pleadingly at Feuilly. "I mean, it will eventually, right? I have to get over either one or the other. I mean, Cosette is so pretty and cheerful and smart and amazing, and Marius is cute and sweet and kind and worries about me. Ugh." She covers her face with her hand not laden with coffee. Feuilly reaches into the paper bag between them and holds out a doughnut silently. She takes it.
"Your life is very complicated, sweetheart," he says. Éponine just groans.
Courfeyrac would have been pleased to find that his words in class had actually had some influence on Marius after all, though it takes a full week and a half to kick in. he sees Cosette from across a campus courtyard, smiling at her phone, her hair loose down her back and shining in the sun, and he doesn't understand why every single person passing her doesn't ask for her number.
Somebody else will beat you to the punch, he hears Courfeyrac say in his head.
Before he can think too hard about it, he dashes across the plaza, jumping a chain barrier like a track star and stumbling to a stop just behind Cosette. She turns around, surprised, to find him disarrayed and panting, cheeks pink with the run and ears pink with shyness.
"Hi," he says.
"Hi," she replies, blushing too.
"Before I can stop myself— I've been meaning to say this for a while, but I— I was just wondering if—" If Marius were focusing on more than getting the words out, he would have seen Cosette's face fall. "Cosettewouldyouliketogogetcoffeesometime?" he says all in a rush.
When he finally registers Cosette, he assumes the pained look on her face is for him, and his flush deepens to a mortified red.
"Yeah, actually never mind, sorry I mentioned it," he says, and starts to turn around.
"No, Marius, I… I'm so sorry, I'm seeing… somebody now." She chews her lip. "I just started but I'm really happy and— oh Marius, I'm really sorry."
She looks so regretful about it that even Marius Pontmercy can pick up that she would say yes if she could, but that hardly makes him feel any better.
"Right," he mumbles. "Yeah, of course. Sorry." He turns around and rushes out before she can say another word.
Somebody's going to beat you to the punch.
The last person he can face in this moment, besides Cosette, is Courfeyrac. So he goes to the only other friend he has. He goes to Éponine.
Marius: Are you free can we get frozen yogurt? Something happened
Éponine : Can be on lunch break by time u get there will meet u
She knows what it's about, obviously. And she supposes it's a little late to kick in with being a good friend. But the least she owes Marius is a frozen yogurt.
When he arrives she's already paying for both, and she nods him to their usual table, her heart hammering and her stomach tying itself in Eagle Scout level knots by the time she's carrying it over—vanilla with strawberries for her, chocolate with cookies and rainbow sprinkles for him. Marius's face is a mask of misery.
"Hey," she says gently. He takes his frozen yogurt with a murmured thanks, then sits looking down into it with hound dog eyes, muddling the cookies and sprinkles about with his spoon.
"Cosette's dating someone," he says after a long silence. His chin is set in the way it gets when he's trying to be stoic, but it's working about as well for him as it always does, and he's blinking with suspicious vehemence at his gooifying sprinkles. Éponine doesn't trust herself to speak. Marius takes a small, morose bite of his yogurt. She waits.
Finally, he takes a deep breath. "And it wouldn't even be so bad—I mean, it would, but it's worse because she said she just started seeing him, and she seemed like she really would've said yes if I'd asked earlier, and I don't think things like that unless they're almost definitely true, you know I don't, and that means it's my fault, and Courfeyrac said this would happen. Oh no, 'Ponine, what's wrong?"
Éponine looks nearly as miserable as Marius does, though her eyes are not so damp.
"It's me!" she blurts. "It's me, Cosette is dating me. I asked her out the day she came to the deli, after you didn't manage it. I am so sorry, I'm so sorry Marius."
To Éponine's consertation, Marius seems to actually gain composure. He pulls himself together and sits a little straighter.
"It's fine," he says, his voice still a little bit trembly but definitely his 'comforting Éponine' voice. "It's fine, 'Ponine, it's okay."
"You pushover, of course it's not okay," she scowls, tears only now coming to her eyes. She swipes at them angrily. "Why would it be okay?"
"Well," says Marius slowly, "you're my friend. And I want you to be happy. And Cosette too, and she said she was really happy."
"This is why you never have good things," she says. She's nearly shouting. "Because you let people take them from you!"
He shrugs. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Hate you?"
"Yes!" She stabs her spoon viciously into her yogurt and falls back into her chair. Marius shakes his head.
"I can't. How could I? If we weren't friends I'd—" He stops and looks at Éponine, glaring at him, her dark eyes shiny with tears. He swallows. "I'd miss you." He looks back down at his melting yogurt. "I should go," he says. "I don't want you to be late back to work."
Éponine doesn't bring up what she's pretty sure he knows, that she's got a full twenty minutes left on her lunch break. She just sighs.
"I'm sorry Marius," she says again. He gives her a wobbly smile. "Its okay," he says. "It's fine." He gets up and goes, leaving his full frozen yogurt behind on the table. Éponine sits staring at it for a couple of minutes, then gets up and throws both cups away.
Courfeyrac comes back to their dorm from class to find Marius sitting on his bed and eating Courfeyrac's Oreo stash.
"Sorry," he says. "I'll replace them." Courfeyrac eyes him. Marius in a funk is not exactly difficult to spot.
"What happened?" he asks. Marius's chin trembles threateningly, but he holds it together. "You can use your fireworks show now," he says.
"Oh no, she's got a boyfriend?"
"A girlfriend," he says, twisting an Oreo open. "She's dating Éponine."
"Wait, Éponine?" Courfeyrac squints in confusion. "Éponine is a lesbian? That doesn't make any sense."
"No, she's bi. Why doesn't that make sense?"
"Ohhh. Okay, got it. Never mind. Tell me what happened, I'll order a pizza. God, Marius, you poor bastard. This could only happen to you."
Marius sighs pitifully. "Believe me," he says. "I know."
Éponine : Can we just get burgers don't feel like movie 2night
Cosette : Yeah, of course :)
Cosette spots Éponine in a booth at the agreed-upon burger spot and starts to smile as she crosses the room.
"I talked to Marius today and it's okay if you want to date him," Éponine says as soon as Cosette approaches the booth.
Cosette's smile is shocked off her face and she stops short just before she sits down.
"What?" is all she can say.
"He said he asked you out today and he said you really acted like you wanted to say yes. Which I get. So if you want to, it's okay. I mean, I'll be okay." She's twisting her paper napkin into a rope, first one way and then the other. Cosette looks stricken as she sits down.
"I didn't tell him it was you!" she says. "I mean, I knew you were friends and it would probably be sticky, so I just said I was seeing somebody. He must have figured it out, but I didn't tell him."
In spite of herself, Éponine laughs fondly. "Marius? Figure it out?" She shakes her head. "No, he came to tell me about it as a friend and I told him myself."
Cosette winces. "Was he very upset, then?"
Éponine grimaces down at her wrinkled napkin. "He's… a sensitive soul."
"I can tell," Cosette nods.
"See, you should totally be together," whimpers Éponine. "You can tell right off that Marius is very… is very Marius, and you'd probably be all sweet and careful with him, while I've known him for years and I still treat him like he's tough enough to take it."
"Stop it, I'm not breaking up with you!"
"It wouldn't even be breaking up really, " assures Éponine. "We haven't been dating that long, it's okay."
"Stop saying it's okay!" Cosette says. "Stop it! I don't want to break up with you or stop dating you or whatever you're trying to call it. I don't."
"But you want to date Marius," Éponine points out. Cosette opens her mouth, then closes it again. She pauses just a moment too long. "You do! I promise it's fine, I'm –"
"I like Marius," says Cosette carefully. "I like him a lot, he's lovely. And I used to really wish he'd ask me out. But now I'm dating you and I… I don't have any interest in any plan that involves not dating you. Okay?"
Éponine sighs. "I'm just… trying to be selfless. It's not a thing I do often. You and Marius are both all kind and generous and all those things only people in cheesy music are."
Cosette reaches across the table and takes Éponine's hand. She laces their fingers together, then lifts their hands to her face and pecks a kiss on Éponine's knuckles. "Stop."
The waitress (who wisely waited until the two girls had stopped arguing before coming over) lays their menus in front of them.
"Actually," says Cosette, still holding Éponine's hand, "I think we could just use some pie."
Although Cosette leaves her with stern instructions not to beat herself up about things, it doesn't do Éponine much good. Gavroche sits at the kitchen table with his homework, eyeballing his sister warily as she stirs a saucepan full of pudding on the stove a little harder than is absolutely necessary.
"Didn't you say you only had pie for dinner?" he says.
"No, I would never have said something like that," she replies. "Because pie is not a meal."
"And now you're making pudding."
"Shut up."
"You make me eat green beans."
Éponine points the wooden spoon at her little brother. "I didn't make you eat green beans tonight, I let you have pop tarts and cheez-its for dinner because I'm a terrible sister, so shut your trap."
"Nah," says Gavroche. "That makes you a cool sister. You're just a terrible mom."
Éponine rolls her eyes. "Thanks ever so, that makes me feel much better."
"Welcome." Gavroche pops a cheez-it. "So did you fight with your girlfriend?"
She slams the spoon on the counter, splattering hot pudding. "Shut the hell up and do your homework, I'm not telling you again!"
"Good, it was getting boring. What'd you fight about?"
"We didn't fight!"
"Uh-huh."
Éponine grabs a paper towel, and mops up the pudding on the counter. "It was about a boy. But it wasn't a fight." "A boy?" He eats another cheez-it thoughtfully. "You're not very good at this gay thing."
"I'm not gay and you know it, you little turd."
"I'm just saying, you could at least fight about a girl." Éponine doesn't respond. Gavroche fills in a problem on his math sheet. "Was it about Marius?"
"Yeah."
"She found out you like him?"
Éponine lets some of the pudding drip into the pot with the spoon to test the consistency. "Nah, she likes him."
Gavroche's eyebrows go up. "You have weird problems," he informs her.
"That's what Feuilly said. More or less." "What kind of pudding is it?"
"Tapioca."
Gavroche makes a face. "Gross. Make me hot chocolate."
"No, you've had enough junk." She taps off the spoon on the side of the saucepan and moves the pudding off the heat. "I'll warm up some soup for us if you want."
"Yeah, okay," he says, and goes back to his homework.
