Christine's life had become a lot less fun without Meg around. Ever since the two girls and Cosette had gone to Jamie's big football party a week ago (and her best friend got in huge trouble for drinking), Meg was not allowed to stay a minute away from her mother past 2:45.

She missed her friend a lot. It wasn't the same just hanging out with Cosette, because both girls were honestly sort of boring. Meg Giry was as lively and funny as Mrs. Giry was strict and dedicated. Meanwhile, Christine's best friend wasn't even as fun in school, because when she was home her mother was pressuring her into dancing even more. Meg was exhausted.

Combined with losing Meg and her terrible math class, Christine was miserable at school. The thought of Algebra II made her inwardly groan. She had it first that morning.

Christine was never good at math. She actually considered herself fairly bright in most subjects and had made her way through freshmen and sophomore years with all A's, sometimes a B+ in science and a B or B- in math.

Then came Algebra II as a junior. She was bad at regular Algebra her freshman year, but last year she had completely bombed the subject and was forced to repeat it again for senior year. This time, her teacher was the infamous Mr. Thenardier who successfully ignored all of his pupils, barely taught and yet gave out extremely difficult tests. He also thought that was very funny, but Christine definitely didn't.

That morning her first big test of the year came back. She had sort of prepared herself for disappointment once she remembered, but Christine was not really expecting to see a -42 at the top of her sheet. A 58% on the biggest test for the quarter. She wanted to slam her head into her desk.

For the rest of the class, she couldn't even focus. How was she going to scrape by with her usual B- this time?

Biting back her pride and her fear, she approached Mr. Thenardier, possibly the world's worst math teacher, clutching the test in her hand. She took in the detail of his desk, papers everywhere and a water bottle full of a clear liquid she guessed was some kind of alcohol.

"Excuse me?" He turned around, looking at Christine as if he couldn't care less about her. Well, there was no turning back now.

"What?"

"I was wondering if there was some kind of way I could retake this test."

Mr. Thenardier observed the paper and shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, come in during a free period and retake the quiz in a week from now."

"Really?" Christine asked, her eyes filling with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, get a tutor and come back," Thenardier said simply.

With relief, Christine happily went through the rest of her day. Of course, her pride still hurt, but at least her math grade wouldn't have to suffer. The fact that her new tutor was an entire year younger than her and aced the course her sophomore year embarrassed Christine, but she realized she was just going to have to suck it up.

After closer reading of her tutor, she realized that the junior girl was her teacher's daughter, Eponine Thenardier. It really made her wonder how such a mean and dumb man could produce someone smart and willing to help others. Christine sat waiting in the empty classroom she was assigned to until a tall, skinny girl walked in looking hurried.

"Sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed and quickly took a seat beside Christine. "My name is Eponine."

She nodded at her new tutor and smiled, trying to make the best of the awful situation. "I'm Christine." Eponine looked at the papers she had brought, giving her new student a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, scatter plots are the worst," she said, Christine laughed politely. "Do you have my dad?" she nodded and Eponine made a face.

"He's the worst. I can't imagine having him as a teacher," Eponine told her. Christine was a little surprised with her words, but shyly nodded in agreement.

Her new tutor did not waste time and quickly went to work. In a matter of twenty minutes, things in the world of Algebra II was finally starting to make sense. Christine instantly started to like Eponine.

"So I was thinking we could meet again maybe twice before you retake the test?" Eponine suggested and Christine nodded again, thinking that would be good.

"Do you have a ride home?" she asked Eponine, knowing her mother would be coming to pick her up.

"Well, my friend usually drives me home but he has football practice and I'm sort of tired. I think I'll walk home."

"No, don't! It's cold out. My mother can drive you home."

At first, the idea of getting a ride home and not having to see Marius or Enjolras (she was sort of mad at both of them) sounded perfect, but it would definitely be embarrassing to show Christine, who she barely knew, her awful and disgusting little house.

"It's okay, I think I'll wait..."

However, her protests did not hold up long and she soon found herself an old, small car with Christine and her mother, a kind woman with a thick accent (Eponine assumed it was something Scandinavian).

With a pang in her chest, she tried to keep up a happy and thankful front as Christine chattered on about how much Eponine was helping her.

Finally, she had directed Mrs. Daae to her home, but no one seemed to think much of her house, or at least no one said anything. Saying one last thank you and goodbye, Eponine left for home and reminded herself to get started on homework.

Christine and her mother talked a little while longer during the ride home. She explained how her math was suffering and how she needed a teacher. As much as people were impressed her parents came from Sweden, Christine didn't actually speak that much Swedish with her mother and was proficient at best.

With a full night ahead of her, she swung her backpack on her bed and opened up her backpack, determined to study math and finish her history essay. She just couldn't focus. Christine had been thinking about the Angel of Music more and more. He was so kind, he had done so much for her, but was he really sent from Heaven? Was it really her father that had sent him in the first place?

Taking out a set of matches, she had no choice but to light the scented candle by her father's picture. He was a small, adorable man with glasses and his violin. Her father loved his violin. He carried it with him everywhere, they buried him with it... Christine still remembered that day, as they lowered her father and his violin into the ground.

No, she couldn't cry. Not again.

Trying to focus on her math, she still couldn't sit still. Christine heard something. She definitely heard something. Completely abandoning her work, she listened further. It was a song she remembered very distantly, but she definitely remembered it.

It was on the violin. She was just thinking about her father and his violin! Christine continued to listen, letting the beautiful music dance throughout her room. She had never heard someone play so wonderfully before, not one person since her father had died...

She was recognizing the music, it was "the Resurrection of Lazarus." It was her father's favorite song. Christine began to cry a little bit. It wasn't even because she missed her father, it was because the music was so beautiful.

"Pappa?" she called, looking out from her window. Nothing. The music even stopped.

"Please, keep playing!" Still, silence.

She looked down, frustrated. Who was playing such beautiful music? It couldn't have been him... but it was. Sadly, Christine was forced to continue back to her homework, the spirit of Gustave Daae still tugging at her heart.