Activities

"How'd you hurt yourself?" the nurse asked as he handed Enjolras an ice pack.

"Um," Enjolras started, uncomfortable talking about it, "Dodgeball."

"Ah… How hard did the guy hit you?"

"Girl. And pretty hard. I deserved it."

The nurse laughed, "Is she mad at you or something?"

"Mad seems like an understatement." Enjolras flinched at the cold ice pack.

"Two things, son. First, if you have any after school activities, I suggest you put them off, just for a day or two. And second, if you made a mistake, and you care for that girl, you've gotta chase after her, because girls are all one of a kind. She's special to you, I can tell."

Enjolras just nodded. Maybe he should apologize. What was he thinking? Of course he should apologize!

He got up off the examination bed, flinching. "Thanks. For everything."

The nurse turned to him, smiling, "No problem, son. Take care."

Combeferre stood up as he saw Enjolras exit the nurse's office. Every step he took caused him to flinch, and Combeferre had to stifle his laughter. Seeing the usually strong leader so vulnerable was new to him.

"Are you fixed up now?" Combeferre asked with a smile.

"No. I can't go to practice later," Enjolras brooded.

"Aw, sorry, Enjolras." He wraped Enjolras's arm around his shoulders and they headed down the hall. "You can tell coach what happened. I'm sure he'll understand. You can just sit next to him on the bench, memorize plays and stuff."

"Yay," Enjolras said sarcastically as they headed out into the field.

The rest of the amis, albeit Grantaire, were on the field, doing suicides. Combeferre brought Enjolras to the benches, and sat him down. Coach Moore walked over to them.

"Combeferre, get on the field. Enjolras, what the hell happened?" he asked in a loud, commanding voice.

"Dodgeball, coach. Remember?" Enjolras explained.

"Well, guess ya have to sit out." The coach grumbled to him. Enjolras was the quarterback of the team, Hugo's Rebels. It would be hard to practice the plays without the captain.

Enjolras shuffled to the metal bench, sitting down. The year wasn't starting off as great as he hoped. He'd hoped that by now, he'd have at least all the jocks persuaded that bullying should stop. He was hoping that the cafeteria would serve breakfast for lunch at least once a month. He was hoping to achieve one of these goals by this month, but he had to face the truth, he always had high hopes.

Like his high hopes of seeing Eponine again. He originally imagined that after college they would run into each other at one of her favorite places, catch each other's eyes, and she'd come running to him. They would both share a hug, and he would ask her out on a date. Nothing to fancy.

But that's not how the world works. It likes to keep you on your toes by throwing balls at you as you dance this dance called life.

Enjolras was lost in his thoughts, when suddenly he heard the door of the school that led out into the field open. Turning, he saw the small brunette that was on his mind.

"Eponine!" he called out. Big mistake, for the moment she turned and saw him, she started sprinting down the field. He groaned, and then started lifting himself off the bench. Breathing in, he started sprinting, ignoring the fire he felt down there. She was quick, and had a great advantage, but he anticipated her every move and was able to catch her arm, latching on to it as he collapsed on the nearest bench.

"What do you want?" she spat. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was slightly messy. She looked beautiful to him.

"Can't I explain? After all, you injured me!"

"Yeah. So I don't get to explain what happened to me, and you hurt me! It's seems like a fair trade off!"

"Listen, Eponine, I didn't mean to do that! I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I hit you! I'm sorry if I called you anything I shouldn't have! I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry, too." He sighed in relief. She forgave him. "I'm sorry that I ever thought you could handle the news. I'm sorry I thought you were old enough to listen and understand. I'm sorry that you don't have balls of steel. The world's a bitch, isn't it Enjolras. A simple 'I'm sorry' won't fix anything. You wanna make up for what you did? Then show me you're sorry! Gain my trust." Or she didn't forgive him.

He stood with his mouth open. "Are you serious?! I just ran across that damn football field and that's my reward? I have to show you I'm sorry?!"

She didn't say anything. Instead she kept her glare on him. What did she want? Did she want him to make a whole flash mob, drive a limo, jump out in a tux, and then spell "Forgive me" in rose pedals.

He groaned, and not just from the pain he felt after running across the football field. "Listen, I am sorry Eponine. What am I supposed to do, though? I don't have experience in these types of things. How do I regain your trust? What do you want?"

"Surprise me. Show me that you care, and that you will listen." She looked over her shoulder. "Listen, I have to go. Goodbye Enjolras." He released his grip, and she started walking to the other side of the field.

When he was about to fall down on the bench, he heard her voice call out. "Hey, Enjolras?"

He turned to her, but she wasn't facing him, she just stopped walking. "I'm sorry for causing you a lot of pain, and not just physically, but emotionally as well." Then, she resumed her walk.

Enjolras lied down on the metal bench and smirked to himself. So she apologized, too. A piece of hope started to thread itself on his heart. He had a chance, and he wouldn't waste it.

Eponine had already forgiven him. I mean, she hit him pretty hard in the balls, and she took that as a perfect apology gift. She just wanted to see if Enjolras really wanted her. How far would he go for her?

She turned right once she was a block away from her house and went down the street. A small area of townhouses had been turned into a shopping and eating center. Christmas lights hung from the tops of roofs. The streets were small, fitting only two small cars at a time, and no trucks. It was like a mini Paris to Eponine.

She walked until she reached the dead end of the street, and she entered a book shop. This book shop wasn't the usual book shop with all the new big hits. Instead, the shop was full of rare books, special editions, and copies of classics. She loved the smell of ancient paper and ink. Eponine walked behind the counter and set her bag down.

She started putting her name tag on and making sure everything was in place. After a couple of minutes, there was a banging, and then shuffling. To her right, a small old man with thin rimmed glasses walked down from the staircase. He had a bit of stubble, a bald head, and was covered with dust.

"Ah, Eponine! How was school today?" her employer, Mr. Placido*, asked.

"Well, thank you," Eponine answered. "Any customers today?"

"Yes! Five this morning! Ever since you started drawing some advertisements, we've been gaining customers."

"Well, I wouldn't want so many amazing books to go to waste."

"Yes, yes, that is very true. I'll be upstairs. Take care of the shop."

"Yes, sir." She laughed as he turned twice around trying to remember what he was going to do. He was a cute little old man, so oblivious to the things happening in the outside world.

The bell of the door rang, and a tall, young man walked in.

"Good afternoon, sir. Looking for something?" Eponine asked politely.

The man turned around, revealing his face. "Yes. And I've just found it."

"Montparnasse," she muttered. "Hooray! My favorite person in the world."

He walked over to the counter in front of her. "Thank you. Why don't you seem pleased to see me?" He genuinely seemed sad about it.

"Maybe because you used to use me! You used to make out with me without my consent, and we were tweens! I didn't want any of that! I just wanted the old 'Pranasse. The one who would play tag and hide and seek with me."

"I'm not that guy anymore! I've changed! I swear!"

"How do I know?"

"Give me a chance 'Ponine. I beg you, give me a chance." He held her hand and gave it a squeeze.

She looked up into his eyes. His eyes said the same thing. Give me a chance.

"Good god, 'Parnasse, if you screw this up, you're out of luck." She rubbed her hands over her face.

"Thank you! Believe me, you won't regret it."

"I've been giving people too many second chances." She shook her head

He wrapped her in a hug from across the counter. Surprisingly, he didn't smell like smoke or beer. "I'll be that childhood friend again. You ain't never had a friend like me."

A/N: Hey. So honestly, I haven't really felt in the vibe of writing right now because of Robin Williams. I'm sorry this chapter wasn't as long, but let's face it. We're all in mourning. Maybe some of you are over it, but I'm not. Review, favorite, follow! Throw me advice if you have any. I don't own anything!

-Franky

Placido= Italian for quiet