Just as she had predicted, Grantaire threw the door open after seven, much too late for his five thirty shift. Surprisingly enough, though, Enjolras was behind him, practically pushing him into his spot behind the counter. Not surprisingly, Grantaire had dark sunglasses on and a sluggish look about him. "I'm sorry…" he trailed off, shooting Enjolras a death glare, "for coming in late."
"Was that so hard?" Enjolras snapped. Coming around to face Eponine, he crossed his arms. "I have the eight o'clock shift, and I texted him asking how the crowd was today." Moving his hands to gesture wildly at Grantaire, who looked rather indignant, Enjolras continued. "Apparently, the text woke him up and he said he wasn't there yet and that he just woke up. So I drove to his house, where he's of course hungover, and forced him to come down here."
Eponine nodded, a little apprehensive of just how far Enjolras had gone. If there was one thing Enjolras hated, it was a worker not pulling their weight. And although she thought this particular method was unorthodox, she shrugged. "But you don't have to work for forty five minutes, so-"
"We discussed it on the way over. He's giving however much of his paycheck I work for him until the hangover subsidizes." Enjolras sighed, giving Grantaire a sidelong glance. "Which could go on until even after my shift starts…"
Grantaire straightened up and came over, pointing at Enjolras in an accusatory way. "The keyword here is discussed. No agreement took place where this plan is concerned."
Enjolras didn't seem fazed by the information. "Our other plan is to tell Combeferre that you showed up out of uniform, late, and hungover. Which do you prefer?"
Growling about injustice and blackmail, Grantaire went into the break room to get his apron. Enjolras followed, raising his eyebrows at Eponine.
She watched them go, shaking her head as she waited for more customers at the register. Their friendship confused her to no end. One, Grantaire didn't just get out of bed and drag himself to work willingly for anyone; it was quite obvious to her that he wanted more than a friendship with Enjolras. Two, Enjolras seemed to barely tolerate Grantaire, yet she rarely saw them apart from each other, unless their shifts were far apart. Of course, she wasn't the type to bring it up to either of them, especially not Enjolras; he had a more stoic, reserved personality, and they were more acquaintances that only hung out together in larger groups. Grantaire, of course, would deny it if she asked. It was probably better for her to keep quiet and observe.
When they came back out with aprons and nametags, the process became smoother, and Eponine managed to bring herself out of the hectic morning she had just experienced and settle into a more relaxed routine. Instead of running around and apologizing madly, she simply took the orders and passed on the cup. Neither Eponine nor Enjolras trusted Grantaire with making the drinks themselves, so he went about cleaning and restocking pastries in between his complaints about headaches.
During a quiet period, Grantaire leaned against the counter and smirked. "Oh, Enjolras, I forgot to tell you: Eponine has her eye on a customer."
Before Enjolras could even open her mouth, Eponine turned around. "Okay, you just want me to think she's hot or something so you can tell me that you know my type."
"That's exactly what I want, yes, but now I'm emotionally invested," he admitted. "I started it, and it better end well or you're giving me nothing to live vicariously through. Has she come in yet today?"
Tapping her fingers on the counter, Eponine sighed. "She came in this morning. First one in."
"And what did she order?"
Eponine did her best to hide her smirk. "She asked me what I recommended, so I made her a London Fog, and she said it was great."
Grantaire groaned, clapping his hands over his face. "I retract everything promising that I have ever said about her. Good lord, you think you know someone-"
"You know nothing about her-"
"-and then she comes in and orders that goddamn hipster tea behind my back!" he finished dramatically, flinging his hands away from his face. "Unbelieveable."
As Grantaire continued to act wounded, Enjolras turned towards her. "You're letting Grantaire have influence on your love life?"
"Love life?" she scoffed. "God, you two! I've known her for, what, not even forty-eight hours? We're not married just because you'd like us to be," she griped, shooting a glance at Grantaire, who was still wearing that shit-eating grin that made her want to punch him in the throat.
"For the record, I no longer want you to marry her if she's going to approve your fancy tea drink that tastes like ashes and regret," he pointed out.
A customer came in the door, and Eponine turned back to the register, calling over her shoulder, "I am not done defending my position!"
Grantaire snickered from his lazy perch on a stool near the coffee machine, and Eponine tried to stifle the murderous glare in her eyes as she asked the customer, "What can I get for you?
At the end of her shift around noon, Eponine gestured for Grantaire to take her seat at the register, a request that he groaned at. "You're making me take the human interaction position?"
"Enjolras did half of the time in this spot that you would have," she informed him tactfully, still bitter about his earlier quips.
"And Enjolras is probably receiving half my paycheck for it, so we're even."
She turned and walked into the break room, incredibly frustrated. Although he would never admit it, Enjolras would now be on the lookout for Cosette (who Grantaire had so nicely described for him), and the last thing she needed was both of them harping on her to ask Cosette out.
She wouldn't do it. She couldn't, right? There was enough for her to focus on: university classes, her friends, her job? All of them took up a good percentage of her time. And besides, to Cosette, Eponine was probably just an employee at a coffee shop. An employee who she had had a good conversation with, but an employee all the same.
Eponine would prefer to ignore this thought and how it caused her a substantial amount of pain.
She switched her coat with her apron on the hook labeled with her name and dug her bus pass out of her pocket. Figuring out her schedule in her head, she decided to just go to the campus early and eat there before her creative writing strategy class started.
Before she left, she grabbed one of the pre-made sandwiches from the glass case, waving at Enjolras behind the counter as she pushed out the door, nearly slamming into the person on the other side.
"Oh, god, I'm sorry-" she looked up and broke off when she realized it was Cosette, for the second time that day. "Cosette, hi!" she stammered, before she could stop herself. If you keep remembering her name, she'll think it's weird.
"Hey! Were you just leaving?" she asked, pausing outside the door.
"Um, yeah, I have an afternoon class," Eponine explained, gesturing with the sandwich container, then deciding to put it in her bag.
"Oh, then I won't keep you. Bye, Eponine!" she waved, going through the door.
"Bye!" Eponine called back out, feeling her cheeks heat up at how Cosette remembered her name. Maybe it was permission to start remembering hers.
She had barely walked out of the parking lot and onto the snowy sidewalk when her phone pinged. Slowing her pace, she pulled it out and opened two texts from Grantaire.
Grantaire: She ordered your goddamn fancy tea.
Grantaire: You're corrupting this city's youth, you know.