It was almost ten-o-clock when Musichetta and Cosette returned. Eponine looked up from blow drying her pants to give them a little wave.

"What's that?" Cosette asked.

"I puked on them, so I tried to wash it out in the bathtub. They're my only pair." Eponine was actually trying to loosen the grass stains she'd gotten falling out of the tree. If anyone had been paying attention to her state of attire, they'd notice the new stains. The green had been a bitch to get out, and she'd have to wear her pants soaking wet to the midnight meeting.

Musichetta pulled a lacy dress from her suitcase. "I brought two because I wasn't sure what I wanted to wear tomorrow. You can borrow this one if you'd like. Didn't you pack any formal wear?"

Eponine accepted the dress gratefully. She didn't own anything half as nice. "I forgot we had the fancy gala thing-I don't think I've ever worn anything this pretty before, are you sure you don't want it?"

Musichetta waved her hand dismissively. "I think Joly is meeting us at there. My other dress is much more his style; if you know what I mean." She winked and pulled out a revealing little number that was all black and seduction. "I think I'll have to wear my hair down or else he'll mess it up."

Cosette clapped her hands, an idea sparked by Musichetta's saucy comment. She sat down next to Eponine. "We should braid your hair so it's all wavy for tomorrow! I'll help you put it up and everything!"

"I don't know," Eponine ran her hand through her mouse brown hair. It was still damp from the shower she'd taken with her pants.

Musichetta sat down behind Eponine and began brushing it immediately while Cosette went to her bag for hair ties. "I've never been to a sleepover before," they said at the exact same time. Then, they looked at each other and laughed. Musichetta took a tie from Cosette and started a complicated up-do.

"It'll lay nicer tomorrow if we braid it the way it's going to be put up. Is this what you were thinking of doing, Cos?" she turned Eponine's head so Cosette could see. The girl murmured approval before grabbing some of Eponine's locks as well.

"I've only ever done my own hair. Papa let me give him pigtails when I was younger, but I don't think he'd appreciate it so much anymore." Everyone laughed at the idea of Mr. Valjean with bows in his hair.

"He must really love you," Eponine said, envy creeping into her voice. Her parents used to love her too. She used to think that if they were rich, they would love her again, but she didn't think those silly thoughts anymore. Like Enjolras had said, some people were sick, but Eponine couldn't think of any cures.

"Sit still," Musichetta ordered, making Eponine face the wall.

"Oh, he does. It's really stifling sometimes, but I can't imagine life without him. I'm adopted, you know?"

Eponine turned to look at Cosette again, messing up the braid Musichetta was working on and earning herself a jab from Chetta's thumb to turn back around. "No, I never knew that."

"I was taken away from my family by social workers when I was seven. My parents were abusive drug-addicts, and my school teacher found out when she saw the cigarette burn marks on the back of my neck." Eponine suddenly felt very conscious of the marks on her neck and arms. She wished she weren't wearing a ratty t-shirt so she could hide them. The questions people asked her when they noticed were too hard to answer. "Papa came and got me a week later," Cosette continued. "Apparently those people who called themselves my parents weren't even my parents. My real mother was a hooker out in LA who died of AIDS a month before I was turned over to Social Services."

This time when Eponine looked at Cosette, Musichetta didn't mind. "I'm sorry."

"I hardly remember any of it, it's fine. Papa says it took me a long time to trust him or anyone else, but I think he likes to exaggerate."

"People are awful."

"The point is, everything gets better," she put her hand on Eponine's. "I know where you come from, you can always ask me for help, okay?" Eponine nodded. How did Cosette of all people know about her situation? Marius. She wouldn't be going to Cosette for help. The girl couldn't possibley understand the circumstances she suffered. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay? Everyone else thinks I'm adopted from Russia or something."

"Of course."

Musichetta stuck one last bobby pin into Eponine's hair. "What do you think?"

The trio headed to the bathroom so Eponine could see too. "I'm going to feel bad taking it out tomorrow," Cosette said. Eponine was relieved when she saw herself. She looked like the girl she always imagined herself to be, instead of what she always saw in the mirror. Her long bangs had been pulled up into a plait, revealing her large, calf-brown eyes and high cheekbones. She was almost tempted to think herself pretty.

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed," Musichetta said, beaming with pride. "I hope it doesn't fall out."

"I'll be careful."

"Yes, Eponine. Sleep very carefully."

12 pm

Eponine pulled her t-shirt off over her hair as slowly as possible and then slipped into Musichetta's slinky dress. It was midnight blue with a scooping back that made even Eponine blush. She hoped she wouldn't get made fun of for looking like a bimbo. When Eponine slid the chain lock off of the door, Cosette sat straight up.

"Where are you going? It's midnight!" the girl hissed.

"I've got a date with Enjolras," Eponine stuttered. Cosette had never met Enjolras, but she'd heard all about him from the students who had. His reputation exceeded him, and it was Eponine's hope that Cosette could find it in her heart to believe that going on a date with the most popular boy who had ever existed was even a remote possibility.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have done your make-up!"

Eponine let go of the breath she'd been holding in. "You're not going to tell your papa on me, then?"

"Are you kidding?" Cosette got out of bed, and Eponine saw that she was fully dressed as well. "Come here," Cosette smeared cherry red lipstick on Eponine's face.

"I need to go, but thank you!" Eponine extracted herself from Cosette's grip and ran out of the room. The elevator wasn't going down fast enough, so she stabbed the ground floor button a couple of times to make herself feel better. She had a lot of questions about the specifics of the scholarship Enjolras had promised, and she wanted to make sure she had time to ask them all before he was drunk with the spirit of revolution. When she got to the parking lot however, it wasn't Enjolras who waited for her, but Courfeyrac.

"Wow, you clean up nice." he whistled, getting up from the hood of a car.

"Where's Enjolras?"

"Did you get all dressed up for him? You know we're only going to a bar. It's not a date or anything."

Eponine tried to wipe the lipstick off with the back of her hand. "I'm not dressed up for anybody. This just happens to be what I'm wearing."

Courfeyrac took her arm, ever the gentleman, and lead her from the parking lot, "Enjolras is at the newspaper office trying to figure out what story they're going to send off tomorrow morning," he led her to a bus stop. "Here," he said, shrugging off his coat for her.

"I'm not cold."

"It's not for the weather. It's to cover yourself in."

Eponine didn't want to be rude, he was only trying to help, but if she was going to be a part of the Les Amis she didn't want them thinking of her as weak. "I'll be fine. I grew up in a big city like this."

"You were little then."

"So?"

"You're not exactly little now, if you catch my drift."

Eponine sighed in exasperation and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you maintain your modesty here, no need to get upset. It's easier to hear coming from me than some creep."

"How do you know I don't think you're creepy? You barely know me. Half of me thinks you're kidnapping me and I should go back to find Enjolras."

Courfeyrac shrugged. "Do what you want, I was given the order to lead you to Musain. You don't have to follow me if you don't want to."

When the bus pulled up, Courfeyrac dropped his coat on the ground and ran onto the bus so that she'd have to pick it up for him. He smiled down at her like a goon, dropping in a few extra coins for her toll. Eponine mumbled some colorful words and sat eight seats away from him with his coat on the floor. Two stops later, an old man and and some swagged out chav were sitting on either side of her, leering. The old man had his arm around her seat, a sweaty palm brushing against her bare shoulder while practically inhaling her hair. The chav wasn't even trying to pretend he wasn't staring at her chest with his hand thrust deep into his pocket. Eponine threw the coat over her shoulders and went to sit next to Courfeyrac, who chuckled.

"Sexism and sexual harassment aren't jokes." Courfeyrac sobered up at her comment. Womens' rights were one of the many fights the Les Amis were spearheading.

"You sure are stubborn though. You let that guy jerk-off to you for a solid five minutes. I timed it."

They talked for a bit, mostly it was Courfeyrac who carried the conversation, which was fine by Eponine because it showed those two creeps she had a friend and couldn't be harmed. She scooted closer to him when each man got off, lest they try and touch her. "Is this how the meeting's going to be too?"

"You sitting this close to me? I hope so. The last good gossip we had we when Joly got a bug bite and was convinced he had small pox."

She poked him in the ribs, "No, I mean people being perverts."

He looked genuinely offended by this. "The Les Amis are not perverts."

"You've been flirting with me since I sat next to you!"

"Nothing raunchy though! I'm a good boy! See?" He held up his hands, which had been resting on his knees. "I'm not even looking at you, I'm just making jokes! Marius must be a kitten if I'm making you worried."

Eponine shook her head. "It's those two guys that were sitting next to me that freaked me out. Not that it's never happened to me before, but we're in a public place for god's sake!"

"You're a brother now. We promise to treat you like one," he crossed his heart. "Most of the guys there are nerds anyway. Bossuet is still in love with Musichetta who is in love with Joly, so that's two down. Grantaire isn't to be taken seriously, Feuilly is respectable, Combeferre is a bookworm and super moral, Jehan is innocent, Bahorel is too busy being annoying to care, and I'm positively charming."

"What about Enjolras?"

Courfeyrac laughed, "Enjolras? You don't need to worry about Enjolras hitting on you. He's got one thing on his mind, and it isn't women. I wouldn't be surprised if he forgot your name with all he's got going on."

"He said he'd help me get into your guys' college."

"If I were you, I'd write him a note so he remembers."

The bus slow down and Courfeyrac nudged her shoulder. "This is it," he went down the stairs first and led her to a a nondescript building with a worn wooden sign outside of it, declaring it to be Cafe Musain. He held the door for her and tipped an invisible hat, "Milady."

Inside, any semblance of the meeting Eponine had been expecting was lost. Bahorel was arm wrestling with Feuilly, Grantaire was forcing Joly to take shots while Bossuet cheered them on, and Combeferre and Jehan were playing cards on the ground.

Courfeyrac went over to Combeferre and kicked his foot to get his attention. "I thought you were supposed to be heading the meeting!"

"Meeting's over. We talked about how today could have gone better and what our next move was. Enjolras is still at the newspaper, so it's not like we have that much new information to go over."

Courfeyrac waved Eponine over. "This is 'Ponine. She's the one from the tree today."

He shook her hand. "I'm Combeferre. You wanna play cheat with us? I'm getting tired of spit." Both Eponine and Courfeyrac sat down to form a circle. When the other boys saw what was going on, they all stopped what they were doing so that they could join. Jehan sighed and collected all the cards again to re-deal for the growing number of players. Eponine won the first and second games, earning her very near the rest of the money she needed. Halfway through the third round though, Enjolras burst in, newpsaper in hand. He slammed the door shut.

"Combeferre! Honestly! I was gone for forty-five minutes." Combeferre's face turned bright red. Enjolras' bad side was not a place you wanted to be. Eponine was surprised he wasn't yelling. He looked tired, was all. There were deep purple sleep circles under his eyes she hadn't noticed earlier. His hair hung limp against his forehead, like he'd been caught in the rain for hours. Everyone got up and took a chair quietly.

"Eponine, come here." She got up nervously. What if he was planning to rescind all of his offers and send her back? He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder and then removed it when he realised it was bare. "Eponine is going to be joining us in the fight next year. After today's events, I probably don't have to tell you why," he unfurled the newspaper. On the front cover was a picture of the protesters storming the capitol building and another grainy one of Eponine provoking the crowd with Enjolras by her side. The headline read, "SENATOR SLAUGHTERED".

"So, you guys killed him then?" Eponine felt like she was going to be sick. It was her fault. Enjolras sent her back to her seat next to Jehan.

"We, as in the Les Amis de l'ABC, didn't kill him," Combeferre corrected. "By the time we go to the front door everyone had already barricaded it and we couldn't get through. The police started shooting into the crowd so we ran. We didn't bring any arms to the protest, it was all we could really do."

"They killed five people," Enjolras growled. He lit the paper on fire and let it burn in his hand. The acrid smell of burning paper filled everyone's noses. "The media doesn't even mention the citizen deaths. All they care about is that swine we cut free from power. The senator killed hundreds, by forcing them to self-administer abortions, throwing themselves down stairs or going into back alleys with coat hangers. No one ever mentions them. All we get is this," He thrusted the burning paper into the air, the flames licking his fingers now. Suddenly, he dropped the paper to the ground and crushed it underfoot before it could char the flooring. "I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm tired of it." All of the boys cheered.

Eponine leaned over to Grantaire, "Killing people doesn't solve our problems, it just makes people dead," she whispered.

Grantaire clapped her on the back and smiled. "Good philosophy."

"What was that?" the Les Amis quieted down to hear what Enjolras was saying. He repeated his question.

Eponine shook her head. "Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"She said, 'killing people doesn't solve our problems, it just makes people dead.'" Eponine kicked Grantaire from under the table. Enjolras was going to throw her out now for sure.

"This fascist pig isn't in power anymore, it's a victory. This is a revolution, people may die. We may die."

"I get that. That's not what I'm concerned about. I don't care that he's dead, I care that that's all you care about. Now that he's dead, who's going to replace him? I'll tell you who, Another fascist pig. This isn't going to be like The Newsies. We can't just sing and dance our way through this reformation."

"Obviously. It's hard change to make. The people will decide who to put on the senator's throne. Someone with their interests in mind."

"And who's that? Everyone in politics is a rich elitist! Everyone with an education is a rich elitist. No one who's a candidate for the seat has our interests in mind."

"Then, how do you think we can change that?"

Eponine shook her head. She could see the problems, but she didn't have any solutions. That was supposed to be Enjolras' job. He pulled up a chair next to her and Combeferre. The gentle din of conversation flowed over her. She hadn't been kicked out of the group, against all odds. She was going to get a scholarship to go to college. She still had four days to make Marius love her. It was all going to be okay. She didn't care about the meeting anymore and just wanted to get back before Cosette got worried she was kidnapped or something.

Around 2am, Grantaire was shaking her awake. Only he and Enjolras remained. "Time to go home. The bus doesn't run this late, so I'm going to drive you."

"I saw you taking shots less than an hour ago, I'll walk."

"Enjolras is going to drive you," Grantaire amended.

"Ready, R?" he was holding the cafe door for them. Eponine noticed how this scene resembled that which had occurred earlier at the coffee shoppe.

"Do you guys live together?" It was weird that they would fight but still hang around and drive each other around.

"Neighbors," Enjolras said while Grantaire replied, "Sometimes," at the simountaneously.

"When he locks himself out or forgets which apartment is his, he breaks in and sleeps in my bathtub," Enjolras explained. Eponine followed them out to the hatchback. She was jealous of their friendship and wished she and Marius were that way. She doubted that if she were to fight with Marius he'd get over it as quickly as Enjolras did. At the hotel, Enjolras parked and followed Eponine into the lobby to replace the tape on her door. They took the stairs upon his request.

"Why do you still live with your parents if you're emancipated?" he asked suddenly on the second floor, breaking the awkward silence with an awkward question.

"What?"

"Today, you mentioned them hurting you, but Marius said you got emancipated, so why are you still hanging around?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," he put his hands in his pockets and his head down. Coufeyrac hadn't given him enough credit when he said Enjolras wouldn't even remember her name.

Eponine sighed, changing her mind. "Where am I supposed to go? I've got siblings. They need me."

"That's honorable, I guess."

"It sucks."

"Why don't you go to the police?"

She was surprised he would think formal authority could help her. Eponine didn't want to talk about all the reasons going to the police would be a bad idea, so she changed the subject, "Can I have your number?"

"Oh, uh. Eponine, I respect you, but I should have you know, I consider myself married to my work."

"I want it so that I can call you about the scholarship thing. No offense, but Marius..."

"Right, of course!" he was blushing furiously at his mistake. "It's 555-0704. Like July fourth."

Eponine smiled at the simile. When they got to her room though, her smile fell. The tape she'd broken was whole, as if she had never left. "Weird." Enjolras taped her back in all the same.

After putting her night clothes back, pulling a few of the bobby pins out in the process, she laid down next to Cosette, and smelled something familiar. Moving closer to Cosette and inhaling deeper, she remembered what it was. Marius. The smell was him. She would have recognized it anywhere. That was why Cosette had been fully dressed, Eponine deduced. She had snuck out to visit someone as well. Eponine's someone. Despite the kindness Cosette ha displayed over the past two days, Eponine was still able to hate her.