A/N: I'm separating the next 2-3 chapters into before and after. So the first part of each chapter is chronological and then the last half of each chapter matches up in the order they go in. I don't know if that makes sense, so I hope it makes sense when you read it. If you have any questions or you're confused about something, feel free to PM me or leave a comment, and I can try and help you out.
1st Semester (9 months later)
Meetings were held sporadically, but often. In the beginning, Eponine hadn't minded going to them, but lately work was getting in the way. It took her forever to find a job anyways because of her criminal record, and now she was always getting the latest shifts at the Taco Bell across town. The other Amis worked in bookstores or as office aides; places that didn't stay open long enough to serve Fourth Meal, so they always scheduled their gatherings late in the evening when their work and studying was done. Sometimes they stopped by in and ordered burritos to catch her up on details of the meetings she missed, but she could tell Enjolras was getting tired of her poor attendance because he would sulk in the corner rather than stuff his face with grease and cheese.
Late one the evening when she ran into him in the courtyard after her final class. He glared at her before stalking away. Eponine caught his elbow, "Hey, wait," he faced her, even angrier than before. "What's going on?"
"I don't know why don't you tell me?"
"We haven't studied since I got here."
"You haven't helped with our plans since you got here."
"That's not my fault! I have to send money home!"
"Your parents can provide for your siblings."
"You know they can't," she crossed her arms. "Don't be so unreasonable."
"If we have the revolution you started, your parents would be able to provide for them."
"They wouldn't."
"But think of everyone else! Eponine, we worked hard to have you with us. You're not keeping your end of the bargain."
She was too tired to deal with his bullshit. "So, you're saying I should quit my job, let my siblings starve, forget about getting a an education, and spend my nights in some bar planning a revolution that will probably get me killed?"
"No! I mean, yes. You're being dramatic about it, but yes."
"How is that even remotely dramatic? That's what you're asking of me, isn't it?"
"I'm asking you to give what you can, and at the very least what you promised."
Eponine chewed her cheek. She needed his help, or else she would fail her classes and lose the scholarship. A compromise needed to be struck. "Then give me what you promised first. I'll call in sick tonight and come to the meeting if you help me with my final for American Language."
He shook his head. "I've got to get to class and then prepare for the meeting, can we do it later?"
"You know, I don't think I'm feeling that sick after all." She didn't trust him to study with her later. The few times he helped her in the start of the semester he did a shit job of spell checking because he was distracted by upcoming protest and then he left after only a half hour when Combeferre called.
"This isn't going to work on me every time, you know," he said dropping himself bitterly onto the grass. "You're not completely irreplaceable." Eponine was surprised he was okay with sitting outside at twilight with her. She took him as the sort who would want a hard wooden chair and a hundred watt bulb in a secluded area where no one would know he associated with people like her. "What do you need help with?"
She let her backpack fall from her arm. and sat next to him. "My final essay."
"I know. What part of it?"
"Oh," she flipped open her notebook. A good quarter of it was notes, but she only had a page and a half worth of essay. She tore it out. "This is what I have so far."
Enjolras scanned over it quickly with his highlighter. When he gave it back to her, most of it was yellow.
"What does the yellow mean?"
"It's what you need to fix."
Everything except for the conjunctions and linking verbs were highlighted. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."
"Do you remember the T.I.E.D. method from English class? You'd do well to apply it."
"Is that all?"
"Your introduction spelling, and punctuation could use some serious work, but I think we should focus on body and word choice right now."
"So you'll help me?"
"I'm sitting here, aren't I? Where are your notes?" She gave them to him and he whistled. "When's this due?"
"A week and a half."
"Shit," he layed on his stomach and started to highlight her notes as well. After each page he would tear it out of the notebook and explain why he'd selected the pieces that he had. "In this type of essay you're required to make, on average, two to three points. Whatever you write should be debatable but throughout its entirety you'll be explaining why your side is in the right. You've got a lot of information here, so we need to narrow it down to fit the three main arguing points."
"Do you do this a lot?"
"Most of the Amis don't ask for help with their homework, and if they do they don't come to me."
"No, I mean writing three point essays."
"Not anymore. After that day in the tree I stopped, except for writing petitions. Screaming memorable slogans at people seems to work better." Eponine smiled a little at that. "Of course, you'd know that, if you came to any meetings."
She poked him in the side with her thumb. "I'm coming tonight, jerk."
He waved her off. "Enough, you need to get this written. Look over what I marked and show me what you think should go in the first section." Eponine marked a few statistics and quotes while Enjolras nodded along, pointing out ones she missed and explaining why they ought to go along with the first part. "Alright, now imagine you've written an amazing introduction that introduces Topic One. We're going to skip the first sentence, since it'll be transitory and you don't know what you'll be transitioning from yet. Then you write a your topic sentence, introduce the fact, write the fact, explain the fact, and draw the fact back to the thesis statement you wrote in your introduction. You can introduce multiple related facts in the same paragraph to save time and space and to avoid becoming repetitive."
"When you talk to people in real life, you only tell them the facts. Why do I have to explain what the facts mean twice in my writing? The reader's going to lose interest."
"Not if you explain it well."
"I can barely write."
"I know," he ran a hand through his blonde curls. It was dark and they hadn't written anything yet. Eponine couldn't tell if he was frustrated because she was stupid or if it was because he missed his class and wasn't preparing for the meeting. "I don't want to tell you what to write, because that's cheating."
"I'm sorry I'm so dumb."
"It's not your fault," he said, not denying she was stupid. "I just wish we had more time. What are you doing tomorrow?"
"I've got a ten hour shift starting at eight."
"Okay, and the rest of your week?"
"I'll email you when I get back to my dorm."
"Alright. I want to finish at least one paragraph tonight. We can finish the first and second topics later and then do the third along with the introduction and conclusion another time." It took them twenty minutes to write the first paragraph. Enjolras, despite not wanting to help her cheat, told her exactly what to write every other sentence. Eponine for her part tried to paraphrase what he said so that it sounded like her voice, but nothing came out quite right. It seemed like Enjolras' way was the only way. When they were done he helped her up before dusting himself off.
"We're meeting at Musain at eleven tonight. You've got about an hour."
"Thanks. See you then."
"Musichetta works there, you know."
Eponine went red, remembering the lie she told Musichetta about her and Enjolras. Knowing 'Chetta, she'd probably asked if they were still an item or mentioned it in some way. "I'm sorry for lying to her. I had to."
Enjolras gave her a weird look. "I was just going to say you should ask her for a job. Then you could attend meetings and work. Why? What'd you lie about?"
"Oh, nothing. It's not a big deal.
"Really? Because you looked kind of scared for a second there."
"It's nothing important, I just, um. I sort of told her you and I had a thing when she caught me sneaking out last spring," Eponine muttered quickly, hoping he wouldn't understand what she said.
Enjolras laughed, "And she believed you?"
"I know! Right?" she was relieved he wasn't angry.
"You should tell her the truth tonight though. That must be why she's always asking me how you are."
"Right, yeah. What do you tell her when she asks, since you haven't talked to me in weeks?"
"Just that you can take care of yourself."
"Too true."
2nd Semester
Montparnasse undid the chain lock when he saw who was knocking at his door.
"'Ponine. Babe. It's been too long. What can I do you for?"
Eponine smiled as seductively as she could. She was only going to get one chance, and she didn't want to blow it. If he decided he didn't like her, he would phone her parents or make an anonymous call to the police, and that would be it.
"I heard you lived in the area. Just wanted to say hey."
He blew cigarette smoke in her face. "I don't believe you. Come on in."
The place wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. The layout was the same as Enjolras' and Grantaire's since it was in the same building, so she knew it wasn't going as gross as the last apartment he rented.
"I'm surprised at you. Thernardiers don't ask for help. Isn't there a rule against this?"
"Who says I'm asking for help?"
He offered her a smoke, which she accepted gratefully "Don't lie to a liar, lair. I've known you were in this city and going to that university the entire time since you got here. I've been keeping an eye out for you, okay? And I know you've known of my presence since I got here as well. So why are you coming to me now? You miss me?" he circled her, hand on her waist.
"More than you can imagine," she put her hand over his so that he'd stand still. The pacing was making her nervous. It felt like he was eyeing her up the way a predator would.
Taking her touch as encouragement and plucking her cigarette from her mouth to kiss her. His fingers dug into her sides while he bit her lip. "So what'dya want from me?"
She slid her hand down his forearm to his fingers, taking her cigarette back. "I was wondering if you were in the market for a roommate," She inhaled deeply, letting the smoke sting her lungs for a while, if just to know she was still alive.
"I definitely think that could be arranged." he took a step closer to her, making her take one back. He pressed her against the wall. "I always knew we would end up together," he murmured, slipping a hand under her shirt. It was difficult to ascertain whether he was trying to arouse her or perform a breast exam. She kept squeezing her toes together and reminded herself to breathe. Focusing on anything except for how scared she was was hard, but she tried. Sleeping in a bed, eating food, taking showers, she would give anything to have it all back. Montparnasse was fucked up, but he could provide it for her. It would only cost her her dignity, something she'd lost long ago.
She took off her shirt for him since he seemed to be having trouble, and made her way to the couch. When he tried to undo her belt buckle, she swatted his hands away and undid his instead. She'd been with him before, and seen how he used his other playthings. If she wanted to live in his apartment for more than a month, she was going to have to pace him so that he wouldn't get bored.
He gave her hickeys all along her collarbone. It was his calling card, letting other men know she was claimed. She thought of Marius who had followed Cosette to university. The Amis figured it was because he wanted to be in their club, but she knew it was for that girl. If he saw the marks, he would either be horrified by her or pity her. Nothing helpful. Never helpful. Not since he met his 'soul mate'. Maybe he would tell Cosette and they would send her a fruit basket or something. Montparnasse moved her hands towards his crotch. Her muscles tensed before she remembered herself and did as he instructed. This was what she signed up for when she knocked on his door. Being a whore was better than being homeless.