Sorry, this took longer than intended. I had no idea about how to write Grantaire and Enjolras. But here it is. Hope you enjoy! And thanks so much for your positive feedback of Chapter 1!

-CM

On the second day of high school, Joly was worried. He had sneezed that morning, sneezed! It could be the beginning of some very bad illness. He wouldn't know how to cure it… he might die! The worry set in to the back of his mind, it made him very scared. He had come early to school, so he could be inside in case it rained.

Reaching his locker, he decided to tie another scarf around his neck, as a precaution, despite the fact that it was nearly seventy outside. He was so concerned for his wellbeing, until…

There was a boy across the hall.

Even though Joly had not seen him before, that was not the issue. Even though he was bald, that was not the issue. It was his open locker. It was so… messy. "Shit… OCD," Joly said. The boy with the messy locker bent down to retrieve something from his messenger bag. Joly crossed the hall, almost on impulse, and began to clean the locker, throwing away the trash that had seemingly accumulated in the one-soon-to-be-two days that they had been in school. He felt harsh eyes on him and he slowly turned around. "What are you doing?" asked the bald boy.

"Sorry. I have OCD, that weird kind that gives you impulses to clean stuff. And your locker was just so… messy."

The boy stared at Joly for another moment, before he burst out laughing. "Well," he said, after his laughing fit was done. "You can certainly clean my locker. It seems to always accumulate bunches of trash. I don't even know how! I'm Laigle de Meaux, by the way."

"The Eagle of Words. It fits, really. I'm Joly Barret. Nice to meet you." The two men shook hands, smiling. Then, Joly continued his cleaning of Laigle's locker, until it seemed shining. By then, students were filling up the hallways. The first bell rang. Laigle looked about. "Well, I'd best get to class. See you soon, Joly!" He closed his locker and walked down the hall.

Joly soon followed suit, stepping into his first class a good few minutes before the second bell. His table partner, whom Joly hadn't the courage to talk to the day before, slid into his seat a moment later, with a laughing smile on his face. "Poland won!" he exclaimed to Joly.

"Won… what?" Joly asked.

"The football game!" replied the other boy enthusiastically.

"Good… good for them," Joly finally stammered, remembering his manners. "I'm Joly."

"Feuilly." The two shook hands, and then class began, disrupting any sorts of casual conversation between them. About halfway through the period, (it was a lecture on Biology,) Feuilly slid a piece of paper over to Joly. "You pass notes?" he mouthed. Feuilly nodded, laughing. He picked it up. It said: U sitting with anybody at lunch?

He shook his head and then wrote down: Why? on the paper and handed it back to Feuilly. Soon it was passed back. We're recruiting. You have to pass an initiation test to get into the group, though.

What's that? Joly wrote.

You have to prove that you are awesome! Which, doesn't really need any proving, because I can tell that you are. So you can just come along. :)

Joly grinned.

At lunchtime, Feuilly found him again and dragged him to a corner table at which sat two others. A boy with wildly disheveled dark hair was eating a sandwich, and a girl… guy… girl… guy… let's just call them a person… was doodling on their hand while eating salad. Feuilly sat down with a flump! The pair looked up… and good, it was a guy. "This is Joly. He has proven his awesomeness and is now worthy to join the round table of the Amis!"

At this, the boy with the long red hair and the striped tank top burst out laughing, much to the confusion of Joly. He looked about and saw that he wasn't the only one. Both Feuilly and the dark haired boy looked equally perplexed. Finally, the redhead stopped his peals of mirth, wiping his eyes. "What was that all about, Jehan?" asked the dark haired boy. "We're not even sitting at a round table! This one's a rectangle!"

Eyebrows were raised.

"Sorry," said the red haired boy, Jehan. "It was just amusing. I'm Jehan, by the way." He shook Joly's hand. Joly smiled, trying to not get freaked out by the fact that there might be germs on Jehan's hand. He also shook hands with the dark haired boy, Grantaire, who seemed fairly preoccupied sketching something in a leather-bound sketchbook.

Joly found that they got along fairly well, despite their differences. When he told them about his serious OCD, they just laughed along with him, which made him feel a bit better. "What are you drawing?" he asked Grantaire?" The dark haired boy put down his pen. He showed Joly the page he had been working on. It was a pen drawing, rough in its beauty. It appeared to be a young man, with wildly disheveled hair, staring out of the paper with an intensity a pen could not capture. He finally realized who it was. "Enjolras?" he asked. Grantaire nodded. Unfortunately, someone else had heard his outburst too. Enjolras himself, whom Joly had known since middle school, was at a nearby table. His head whipped up at the mention of his name, and upon seeing Joly, he smiled and stood up, coming over to sit down beside them. Joly looked over at Grantaire, who looked nearly mortified as he stuck his sketchbook under the table. But there was also something else in his eyes… was it adoration?

"I haven't seen you in a while, Joly,"said Enjolras, clapping him on the back and sitting down beside him. Courfeyrac and Combeferre sat down as well, grinning.

"Can you believe we're all in high school now?" asked Joly.

"How did that ever happen?" asked Combeferre, smiling. "Aren't you going to introduce us to all your friends?" said Courfeyrac, looking much like an eager puppy.

"Oh! Of course!" Joly started. "This is Feuilly, Grantaire, and Jehan, he said," pointing at each in turn. Feuilly saluted, Jehan smiled, and Grantaire… well… he was uncharacteristically graceless in that moment. His mouth was slightly open, and he was staring quite unabashedly at Enjolras, as if he was some sort of god. Enjolras looked at him with disdain. "You know, if you hold your mouth open, a fly might fly in," he said distastefully. Grantaire shut his mouth with a snap. "Sorry. I was just thinking about how I need a drink to forget life. Life is just a meaningless invention by somebody I don't know. It doesn't last, and it's good for nothing."

"Why would you want to forget life?" asked Enjolras.

"Well, not really life as much as my sadness about how someone as beautiful as you could be such an asshole." Replied Grantaire. Enjolras immediately got up and left, shooting Grantaire daggers. Courfeyrac and Combeferre reluctantly followed.

"Shit," said Grantaire.

QotC: Who is your OTP? (All fandoms.)