Chapter Two — Love and the Weather
"Avri?" Éponine ran up beside me and grinned at what must have been my stunned expression.
"Yes, Éponine?" I crossed my arms, attempting to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.
"Did you talk to any cute revolutionaries?"
"One, yeah," I replied, trying to be nonchalant.
"Well, spill!" Meg urged, coming next to Éponine. "You didn't say he wasn't cute, so he must have been adorable!"
"He- he was tall, only a little taller than I am, and had these beautiful brown eyes and dark curly hair," I sighed involuntarily as I recounted Enjolras's appearance for my friends. "And his voice... it was so rich and resonant."
"Sounds to me like someone is in loveeee…" Éponine sang.
"Who's in what now?" Christine asked as she neared our group.
"Nothing," I snapped hastily, earning a reprimanding look from Meg.
"How was Marius?" Éponine asked Christine, whose face was very flushed.
"Oh, he's lovely, Éponine, thank you," Christine beamed. I hadn't seen her this happy in a long time. Must be this Marius guy she found.
"Unpredictable, irresponsible, unbelievable, unreliable, ever since the world began... our Cupid-" Éponine nudged me, and continued singing when I rolled my eyes. "And the weather-man..."
"Love and the Weather,
Birds of a feather,
Can't be depended upon,
One day it's sunny,
Next day the sunshine has gone.
Love and the Weather,
Always together,
Planning another surprise,
Bringing the raindrops
just like the tears to your eyes...
Any guy with love close by is cozy and warm-
Love walks out-
And kicks a guy right out of the warm, into a storm
Moonlight romances,
Have to take chances,
That's what you learn with the dawn…
Love and the Weather,
Can't be depended upon!"
Meg winked and shoved Éponine playfully before starting to sing herself.
"Love and the Weather,
Birds of a feather,
Can't be depended upon,
One day it's sunny,
Next day the sunshine has gone.
Love and the Weather,
Always together,
Planning another surprise,
Bringing the raindrops
just like the tears to your eyes...
Any gal who's Cupid's pal is cozy and warm-
Love walks out-
And kicks our gal right outta the warm, into a storm,
Moonlight romances,
Have to take chances,
That's what you learn with the dawn...
Love and the Weather,
Can't be depended upon!"
Éponine giggled and ran around behind me to put her arm through Meg's and strutted down the street.
"Any guy with love close by is cozy and warm!"
"Love walks out and kicks a gal right outta the warm-"
The two of them stopped and sang together, holding hands and leaning close to each other.
"Into a storm,
Moonlight advances,
Love's golden chances,
Rain comes along and they're gone...
Love and the Weather change your night to dawn!"
Éponine ran up to me and grabbed my shoulder. "Unpredictable!"
Meg did the same, her hands on my other shoulder. "Irresponsible!"
"Unbelievable!"
"Unreliable-"
"Love and the Weather cannot be depended upon!" The two friends ran around in front of me and posed on the final beat, panting hard from their exertion.
Christine clapped loudly, and I rolled my eyes, starting a slow-clap. Meg and Éponine shot a grin at each other before running up to and hugging me.
"Okay! Okay! That's enough!" I protested as Épi began to cut off my breathing. She set me down reluctantly and looked back at the crowd of revolutionaries.
"So, what was his name, Avri?" Meg asked, wiping her mouth with her hand.
"I- I don't know," I lied quickly.
"Mine was named Granataire. He was so cute- you wouldn't believe it," Meg gushed.
"Not as cute as Enjolras," I blurted before I could stop myself.
"Oh, Avriellea, that's so... French!" Christine swooned, hugging me tightly. "Enjolras," she repeated softly, her eyes distant.
"Wait- that's his name?" Éponine sputtered, stunned. "I heard from Marius that he's never been one to spend time with girls. Looks like you'll be the one doing the falling, Avri."
"He's the leader of the revolutionaries," Meg bit her lip as she glanced in the direction of the blond haired student with the green vest she had spoken to earlier.
"Who? Granataire?" I asked, hardly daring to believe the staggeringly tall blonde was the brilliant, powerful force behind the revolution.
"No, silly, Enjolras." I couldn't tell if it was only my imagination, or if Meg was actually stressing the syllables so that the final one slipped off her tongue and echoed in the frigid winter air.
Enjolras. Even his name was enough to send chills down my arms, and ignite a flaming sensation in my chest. "No way. That didn't seem like something he would do."
And even as I spoke it, I realized I was lying to myself. The position suited him perfectly. He was good-looking, a natural leader, and his voice— oh, God, his voice— could convince anyone to come running to his side.
That was the moment I knew I was in love.
And, coming to that realization, I also discovered there was nothing I could do to change that.