1st Semester

After eight hours of wishing people to have saucsome and tacotastic day, Eponine spent her night in the library with Enjolras. She finished her English essay on her own two nights prior when she got back to her dorm. As usual, he was less than helpful with proofreading, but on this occasion it was because he was half asleep. Not that she could blame him. She suspected plotting to overthrow the American government was easier said than done.

"It's fine, you don't have to read it." If he was going to half-ass editing her paper, she rather he didn't try at all.

"Are you sure?" Enjolras touched his black eye for the hundredth time, as if making sure it still hurt.

"Yeah, we should probably start on my statistics anyway."

"Oh," clearly he'd been hoping to go home and sleep off the beating the police gave him for picketing the new anti-gun laws. "All of statistics or..."

"The confidence interval business. I don't understand how that all works."

"Okay," he rested his head in his arms, relieved he wouldn't be teaching an entire subject again. "Give me your book. I took this four years ago. I don't remember everything" He read through it slowly, sometimes blinking for so long Eponine thought he'd dozed off. Eventually, he closed the book quietly and tilted his head to the ceiling. "Give me a second so that I can think of how to explain this to you," absently, he rubbed his still bleeding palms together. He must have scraped them when they pushed him to the ground. Eponine wondered how he stopped himself from becoming violent. If he threw a punch, it would be considered assault on law enforcement, and he would be in jail without bail instead of sitting here with her.

"Alright, so, the probability of any event is between zero and one. However, nothing can be 100 percent certain, which is why confidence intervals were established. Confidence intervals generally give you two numbers where the average of data can lie. This confidence interval can never be at 100 percent, as it is impossible to give a number range that accounts for every probability besides negative infinity to infinity, which means nothing. If we were to have confidence intervals of 100 percent, the margin of error would be so wide that nothing would be accurate. We need this doubt to decrease error. Does that answer your question?"

"Woah, calm down there, Jehan!"

"What?"

"Who knew Enjol-freaking-ras was a poet?! That was a beautiful metaphor on how to live life."

"I just taught you what a metaphor was the other night."

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate one when I see it! I wish I could write down what you just said and publish it!"

He scowled, "Are you mocking me?"

"Sweetie, you'd know if I was mocking you."

"Okay, whatever. Let's do some problems so I can go to bed," he thought for a moment before writing in her notebook. "Solve this one first," Enjolras tapped a set of numbers.

"Is it going to turn out right? You didn't take it from the book."

"Yes. I did it in my head."

"In thirty seconds?"

"I know. I'm great. Poet, mathematical genius, and generous to boot. Do the problem." He put his head back down on the table and closed his eyes. Eponine chewed her eraser, and punch some numbers into a calculator she'd borrowed since she couldn't afford her own. Enjolras might have been able to do math in his head, but she didn't even know where to begin.

At the sound of the library doors closing, she looked up. Courfeyrac and Grantaire entered, giggling with one another. Eponine waved them over, maybe she could get them to lure Enjolras away before he found out exactly how stupid she was. Originally, she thought he would be a nice, quiet tutor who worked for free. Whenever she saw him now, all she could think of was how uneducated she must appear. Not that she cared what he thought of her, but she didn't want him talking about her behind her back like Marius did.

Courfeyrac leaned in closely to his friend's ear and blew hot breath on his cheek while Grantaire stroked Enjolras' spine.

"Hey, Enjy," they cooed in school-girl unison. Enjolras shot out of his chair, knocking Courfeyrac's jaw.

"The hell, you guys!?"

They both fell into a fit of laughter, Courfeyrac holding his chin, and Grantaire his belly like he was Saint Nick come early. "We got a bunch of chalk from the dollar store, want to write on things?" Courf asked when he finally calmed down.

Enjolras sat back down and reached for Eponine's notebook. "Did you finish the problem?"

She closed it before he could see. "Yup. It's really easy now, thanks."

"Enjolras is tutoring you?" Grantaire pulled up a chair and sat in in backwards. "You said it'd be cheating to help me with my homework! What? You see a pretty girl and suddenly you forget all your rules?"

Enjolras flipped his hood up and pouted. "I'm not doing this with you again. You're only picking this fight now because you want her to hear it."

Eponine chewed her cheek, they'd fought about me?

Grantaire patted her hand to get her attention. "He came home so late the other night, I thought maybe he found someone. When he told me he was studying with you, I couldn't help but wonder if it was a euphemism for something," he put his tongue in his cheek and flicked his eyes in Enjolras' direction.

"Yeah, it was a euphemism for Eponine is an idiot and he was helping her study"

"A euphamism is-" Eponine tossed her pencil at Enjolras so it hit him in the chest.

"I know what a goddamn euphemism is, jerk. I do have some grasp on the English language, you know."

Courfeyrac laughed and ruffled Enjolras' hair. "You're too hard on her. Eponine is great! She should help us write naughty words on things. What say you, Ep?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"How about, The Odds are Never in Your Favor," he ran his hand in and arc above his head, as if announcing something grand.

Enjolras pressed his lips together. "Isn't that a hunger games thing?"

"You're into pop culture?" Grantaire gasped.

"Absolutely not. I hear that stupid phrase everywhere. I don't have time to read silly girl books."

"It's not silly, it's about revolution."

"Either way, the phrase is no good. It's not inspiring, it's depressing. We want to get people mad and bring them to action."

"The cake is a lie," Grantaire suggested.

"No, I hate that video game.

"That's only because you always die. It's a great phrase, regardless. It references Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution, which is pretty similar to ours. Also, it reference how the government says things are getting better, but they aren't. It's deep."

Courfeyrac nodded his head while Enjolras shook his.

"How about Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort?" Everyone looked at Eponine.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"I took French with Marius for four years."

"It's perfect," Enjolras grabbed a couple sticks of chalk.

They headed out, Grantaire and Eponine taking North and South campus while Courfeyrac and Enjolras took East and West. Once the boys were out of earshot, Grantaire attacked Eponine with questions.

"What's going on between you two? Is he taking drugs? Will you elope?"

"What?"

Grantaire started writing on a building in big sloppy letters, 'STOP DOING THE THING :(' "The only girl he stays out past 8:30 for is Lady Liberty."

"I'm not just some girl though, remember? I'm on of the Amis."

"Right, but last week he liked he less than he likes Pontemercy, so what happened."

"Nothing, we just studied."

"No, you're emailing each other too!"

"You go through his emails?"

"Absolutely not, that'd be creepy. He left his computer open when he was taking a shower and I peeked."

"We were emailing about school. He wants me to get caught up so that I can go to more meetings."

"So there's nothing going on between you guys?"

"Only academics. Why do you care so much? Wouldn't it be good for him to have a girlfriend? He seems so tense." Grantaire drew a huge penis in front of the admissions building. "No, not political enough," Eponine fixed it by labeling it 'GOVERNMENT' and drawing a stick person preparing to suck it labeled 'YOU'.

Grantaire laughed, "You're good at this."

"We should really start to write that French shit, or else Enjolras will get pissy."

"He's such a nerd." There was a shout in the distance. "Speak of the devil. I bet he remembered he had homework to do or something." They both started running towards the noise, snickering at the thought. Eponine pulled Grantaire back into a doorway when she saw Enjolras. He was pressed face first against a wall by a very tall man.

"I think it's the police," she hissed.

"What! Why?"

"Vandalism, revolution, hello?"

"We've got to go help him!"

Eponine shook her head. "He'll take it as a threat and then we'll all be jailed."

"All for one and one for all," he turned to leave again.

"Wait!" she grabbed the back of his shirt. "Let me do it, you look too scary, with all your hair and muscles. If he tries to arrest me, or calls for back up then you come. Text Courf, see where he's at." before Grantaire could stop her, she was running across the green.

"Hey, baby, who's your friend?" she was out of breath and holding a stitch in her side.

The officer nodded at her. "I'm an officer ma'am. Do you know this hooligan?" he pressed Enjolras into the wall a little harder, knocking the air from his lungs. Eponine chewed her lip. If she screwed this up, he could end up seriously hurt. The law didn't care about justice like it used to. Now it was all about keeping people in line. Of course, the officer was a male, and men still worked the same way. She'd gotten herself out of enough speeding tickets to know that.

"'Course. I 'know' all about him," she said with a coy wink. "That's what college is all about, right? Getting to know people." Now, she glanced at the wall Enjolras had been vandalizing. She sighed theatrically, a plan forming. "Really babe? I spelled out what you were supposed to write so you wouldn't mess it up," Kneeling, she added the word 'petite' between la and mort. "If you don't add the petite, it's creepy, not funny. We're trying to make people laugh here, not start a mob. Orgamsims are funny. Death is not. See the difference?"

"Ma'am that's vandalism," the officer loosened up his grip on Enjolras, who's nose was bleeding and face badly scraped. He moved closer to Eponine.

"It's chalk," she twirled the stick between her fingers. "It comes right off with water. It's supposed to rain tomorrow afternoon anyway."

"It's inappropriate and offensive."

"C'est la vie, eh?" she took a chance and stepped closer to the officer, running her fingers lightly down the underside of his forearm. He dropped Enjolras and tipped his hat to her, visibly uncomfortable by her forwardness.

"I'm going to give you a warning tonight. Go home immediately, if I catch you defacing property again, I will personally make sure you and your friend get full fines and jail time."

Eponine waited until the officer was out of sight to look at Enjolras. "You okay, babe?"

He wiped his nose, "Don't ever call me that again."

"You're welcome on the ass-saving."

"I was fine, I was handling it."

"You were about to become someone's prison bitch."

Grantaire met them, out of breath "What the hell just happened?"

"I convinced the po-po to leave Enjolras alone."

"She seduced him like a fiendish vixen."

"I wish I were a girl so that I could do that," Grantaire sighed. "Courf's going to be here in a minute," he held up his cell phone. Eponine took it from him and shined it on Enjolras who was slouched against the wall, still trying to stop his nose bleed. She squatted next to him and tried to push his hair off of his forehead so she could see his scrapes.

He flinched away from her touch as if it burned. "What're you doing?"

"Helping. Jesus Christ, Enjolras. You've got a bunch of rocks and shit in your cuts, it's going to get infected."

"Leave me alone, you're only going to make it worse."

"I promise I'll only look, okay?" He didn't move, so she shined the light on him again. Carefully this time, she tilted his chin. There was a little pebble stuck on his temple, so she picked it out, making him hiss in pain.

"You said you were only going to look."

"Fiendish vixen, remember?"

Courfeyrac jogged up, "'Taire said you were in some sort of trouble?"

"I'm fine."

He whistled when he saw his friend's new injuries. "You don't look it. That's embarassing, man."

"Why is it embarrassing?" Eponine dropped Enjolras' chin and gave Grantiare his phone back.

"That's the second time he's been beaten up today. Makes him look weak. No offense, bro," he offered a hand to help Enjolras up. "I mean, we all know it's better to not fight back at this point, but it looks bad on the Amis. Especially when their leader gets jumped during a silly little prank. People will think we can't handle ourselves or something."

Enjolras nodded. "I'm not going to class tomorrow."

"What? You never skip class!" Courfeyrac exclaimed

"Well, not never," Grantaire winked at Eponine.

"You're right. It'll look bad on us if people see me like this. They'll lose faith in the cause. They won't trust us."

"Or," Eponine said, rolling her eyes at his dramatics, "They'll see how much you care about the cause and how terrible and corrupt the police are."

I grumbled something unintelligible. "I'll think about it. Grantaire, do you have your keys? I don't want you over tonight."

"Are we going to finish this, then?" Courfeyrac held up his box of chalk.

Eponine gave him the rest of her sticks. "I don't want to risk being arrested. That guy sounded pretty serious. My record is fucked up enough."

"I'm getting a migraine. If I stay out any longer I'm going to puke," Enjolras held a bloody hand to his head and started stumbling in the direction of his apartment.

"Grantaire?" Courfeyrac held the box out to his friend expectantly.

"Yeah, I'm still game," he looked to Eponine, his face unfathomable. "You take Enjolras home, okay? I don't want to find him dead in the stairwell when I get back."

She nodded, half wishing Marius were as caring as Grantaire and half wishing she could go to bed instead of walking Enjolras across campus. "Wait up blondie," she called out. "Your boyfriend wants me to walk you home." Enjolras turned to give her a baleful look, but stopped. She grabbed his coat sleeve to keep him from tipping over. "Do you have a concussion?"

"I don't know. Probably."

Eponine was quiet a moment. He seemed more angry at himself than at the guy who jumped him. She wondered how long he'd been fighting this battle he couldn't win. "Do you really think this is all worth it?"

Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply, trying to let a wave of pain pass. "It has to be," he said through gritted teeth.

"My dad gave me a concussion once when Gavroche ran away. I lied to give him more time, and got beat up for it. It wasn't worth it, because 'Roche is on his own now, hungry all the time with nowhere to sleep. I didn't really help him, his situation just changed. What if that's how your revolution turns out? Will you be okay with that?" she'd been thinking about their parallels for a while, but only now did she have a context to explain herself.

"I have to at least try. I'm sure your brother is happier wherever he is."

"Maybe. He's so brave. I don't think I could do it. I don't think I could do what you're doing either."

"Anyone can do what I'm doing. That's the point," he stumbled a little, but Eponine held him upright.

"Not if you're selfish like me."

"You just have to find something that makes you care."

"Caring hurts too much."

"You're telling me." he stumbled again.

"Okay, big boy. We gotta walk. It's just another half block." She moved so that he was closer to the buildings and could support himself with their walls.

"Everything's spinning."

"I know." She put an arm around his waist and helped him to walk the last few steps to his complex. When they got inside, he moved to take the stairs, but she stopped him. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's only one flight."

"The elevator stops on that floor too. I'm not carrying you up the stairs."

"You don't have to."

Eponine was glad for Grantaire's foresight. If it were up to Enjolras, he would definitely be dead at the bottom of the stairwell. "Come on," It didn't take much to pull him into the waiting elevator with how dizzy he was. Once in, he sank against the wall and rubbed his aching head, agitating it into bleeding again. "You're a mess."

"I know."

"When did you last sleep?"

He shrugged.

"Eat?"

He didn't respond. She made a note to tell Grantaire. When the elevator stopped, she pulled him back up.

"Do you have your key?"

He fumbled around in his dirty red sweatshirt before she stopped him and found it for him.

"Make sure you wash your face."

"Yes, mom," he mumbled, taking his key from her. He closed his door with a slight wave. If he weren't so pathetic and irrational she would have taken him for an ingrate.

2nd Semester

Living with Montparnasse was a little like being in a coma. Whenever he was around, Eponine went numb and left her body. He would take what he wanted from her, but she was never there when he did. Not really. It was easier to handle when she knew he was coming, but sometimes he would surprise her while she was taking a shower or half asleep. Then, it was all she could do to pretend it wasn't happening and she were somewhere else.

Originally, during these attacks, she would try to think of Marius. His laugh, the way his hair flopped in his eyes when it was windy, how he drummed his fingers when he was nervous. But Marius wasn't a shelter anymore. It was several weeks ago that he'd forsaken her.

Initially, he'd acted happy that she found a boyfriend. He wanted to go on double dates to the movies and Olive Garden. Eponine wasn't able to explain why she couldn't, so every time he asked, she said that they already had other plans.

Then, he saw the bruises. Montparnasse would get angry about work or get fed up with her and he responded the only way he knew how. Violence. Marius didn't question it at first, he was used to seeing her looking ragged because of her parents, but when the trend continued he grew leery and made Cosette ask her about it. Eponine told her in confidence of the friendship they had started in their last year of high school, but Cosette didn't know what she was hearing were secrets, so she blabbed to Marius. He freaked out and lectured her about being safe and courting only people she truly loved. Like the way he loved Cosette. When she continued to live with Montparnasse, he told her he was 'withholding his friendship until further notice'. Now when she saw him, he would ignore her or leave the room altogether.

On this particular morning, Montparnasse had her against the wall, begging her to say his name, but all Eponine could think of was going over to Enjolras' later to make protest signs. His nails dug into her back, bringing her to reality.

"Say it," he whispered hotly into her ear. She merely whimpered, but he seemed satisfied and let her alone to drift back into her head.

Suddenly, she felt his hand creep around her neck. "Are you bored?"

Her eyes bulged. He'd never gone so far as to choke her before. Usually he only yelled and used his fists. "I'm sorry!"

"Are you bored?" Eponine shook her head and tried to shove him off. He let go of her neck and tapped her cheek. "I want eye contact next time, slut."

Eponine slumped to the ground, shaking with fear and anger. She spat the taste of him out on the carpet while he ran around the apartment gathering his work uniform.

"I don't know what time I'm going to be home tonight. Don't go anywhere." She nodded dumbly, picking herself up off the floor after he'd left.

Montparnasse had made her friendless and weak. She couldn't go to any of the Amis' meetings, she'd lost her job, and if he so much as sensed she were talking to another man she would feel it into the next week. Eponine wasn't sure she'd be able to leave him when the school year ended.