𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐜𝐫𝐲 [ 𝘫. 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘴 ]

10, grenouilles

The next day, English class was near empty. Eponine sat next to Annick, like usual, but the rest of the class was just Simone, Michéle and a few other students who'd already been questioned by Mr. Bellanger. It was quiet.

Miss Couret stepped inside, and put her bag on her desk. "We won't wait on your classmates, as they're being tortured in your dean's dungeon." The class laughed. "So today we'll read an article on President Kennedy's assassination."

Laubrac raised his hand.

"Yes, Laubrac?" Miss Couret asked. "What about the song? By The Beatles?" he questioned. "No, there won't be a song. I couldn't find the record of it," Couret explained. She looked down and picked at her nails, and Laubrac nodded in disappointment.

Eponine perked up. "Maybe I could bring it to class next time? I brought mine from London when I moved here," she offered. Miss Couret smiled. "Yes, of course. That would be wonderful."

. . .

Eponine loved biology.

Mr. Herman dropped her test on her table, and she looked at the big red '11' marked on her paper. One point lower than Annick, but still good. 'Mum and dad will be proud of this one,' she thought. But at the thought of her parents her heart clenched.

Mr. Herman explained that tomorrow, they'd be dissecting frogs. Next to Eponine, Annick tensed up. "Are you okay?" Eponine asked. Annick shook her head. "I hate dissecting things." she explained.

When the class stood on the courtyard, Annick, Pichon and Eponine discussed their scores. That was, until Dupin tapped Annick's shoulder. "What about giving me a private class?" he said, eyeing her up and down. Annick laughed. "No."

"We should steal his stupid frogs," she said. "That's an excellent idea." Pichon yet again inspected his test sheet. "But no one would dare," Annick said, batting her lashes at Dupin. His jaw ticked.

"If I do it," Dupin started, "will you give me a private lesson?"

Eponine could see Annick thinking. "Okay," she agreed. Pichon looked puzzled. "What?" But he was ignored. "So one hour, just the two of us?" Dupin went on. Annick nodded again. "If you get all the frogs," she said. Dupin nodded. "Count me in."

Behind Pichon, Belkacem appeared. "Me too!" he begged. "Nobody asked you, Ahmed." Dupin said. But Annick interfered. "He can try. Everybody can."

Belkacem perked up. "Hey, everyone! The first to steal Herman's frogs gets an hour-long private lesson with Annick!" Pichon didn't look too thrilled. But the class quickly divided into groups to discuss plans, as they all wanted the tutoring session with Annick.

. . .

Simone looked extremely uncomfortable when she left the toilet. She blamed it on her period, which Eponine recognised herself in too.

Michéle ended up sending Simone to the nurse, because she'd been doubling over in pain the entire way to the classroom. When they entered the courtyard to get Simone to Madame Bellanger, Pichon approached.

"Hey Michéle, do you know where your uncle keeps all his keys?" he asked when they descended the stairs. "Hmm, why?" she asked, confused.

"Hey! Don't tell the dean's niece, she'll snitch," Dupin called. Michéle turned to Pichon. "What is this about?" But all Pichon did was sigh, and he stalked off muttering "Not again".

Michéle turned to Dupin and his friends. "What, you think I'm a suck-up because I'm the dean's niece?" But before Dupin could reply, Joseph stepped forward.

"Yes," he bit, glaring at her. Eponine's brows furrowed. "Be nice, Joseph," she scolded, a warning finger wavering in the air between them. She didn't care if she'd just called him by his first name in front of his friends. "Don't tell me what to do," he bit back. "I can, and you know why." Eponine waved off his response. His eye twitched, but he backed off. "Come on, let's go," Simone said.

When they walked past the boys, Joseph brushed his hand against Eponine's. She didn't grant him a look, and stalked off with Simone and Michéle. She could feel his gaze on her.

When she did look back, she couldn't quite pinpoint what his expression was. He seemed angry, but he had another look in his eye. Something soft. Something caring. And he almost seemed regretful.

She smiled slightly, wanting to ease the building tension. The moment she did, he snapped his head away. 'What's up with him?' she wondered, 'Does he regret what happened at New Years?'

She frowned, her gaze averting. What she didn't notice is Descamps' regretful look back.

. . .

Later in class, Michéle was nowhere to be found. Neither was Laubrac. Or Simone. Without them, class didn't feel the same. Eponine missed the girls' quiet giggles.

"Magnan, Laubrac, and Palladino?" Douillard called out, "there must be a good reason for them to not be in class. If anyone knows, tell me."

"Simone is at the nurse, sir." Eponine said to make sure she didn't get noted as absent. She had no idea where Michéle and Laubrac could be, though. Not a minute later, Pichon shot up to go to the toilet. He sprinted out of the classroom, with a glint in his eye that seemed a bit more urgent than just the toilet.

Eponine's deskmate, Lamaziere, raised his brow. "Isn't it weird they're all gone? And why aren't you with them, aren't they your clique?" he whispered to Eponine. Eponine nodded in confusion. "Honestly I'm offended they didn't tell me anything," she said.

Lamaziere laughed silently. "Who could leave a girl like you behind?" Eponine smiled at the compliment, but on the inside she wanted to die. Lamaziere was nice enough, not too bad looking, but knowing he was Dupin and Joseph's most regular client made her want to throw up.

Joseph stretched, conventionally putting his elbows on her desk. Given she was already leaning on her elbows on her desk, his curls almost touched her nose. It was a small gesture, but it told her enough. Don't talk to Lamaziere.

. . .

After school ended, the class assembled in a small street close to the school to see if anyone got the frogs. Eponine stood at the side, awaiting the result. Joseph hovered near, and checked every minute to see if she was still in the same spot. 'The fucker thinks he's being slick,' Eponine thought.

Three minutes later, his back hit the wall next to her. Eponine didn't look at him. "Eponine," he said. But she didn't respond, only tilted her head slightly away. He groaned, and threw up a hand. "I'm sorry, okay?" he said regretfully.

She looked up at him. "I told you to never talk to me like that again, but you did." Her hands grumbled at the seams of her skirt. His eye averted to the tarmac. "I know, and I'm sorry. I just can't help it sometimes, you know? I get so angry, and I just-"

"-lash out?" Eponine finished. He nodded, letting out a small 'yeah'. "I get that, I do," Eponine sympathised, "But don't take it out on me. I want to be able to trust you, and not be scared of you screaming at me, you know?"

He popped up his knee, and looked back at her. "Yeah, I'm really sorry. I'll be better for you," he said. Eponine smiled and hummed in agreement. She honestly kind of hoped he'd leave, because she didn't know what to say or do now. Until she felt his warm, soft hand slip into hers. They laced their fingers together, and both looked away because their faces felt like they could melt off.

Just a little while later, Pichon walked into the alley with a bag. "I got them!" he whooped, and everyone gathered around him to see. Eponine dragged Joseph along, and he stood behind her carefully, with his chest against her back.

He opened the bag, and sure enough, the frogs one by one jumped out. Annick looked away in disgust, and Joseph wasted no time in reaching forward to grab one. He held it in Eponine's face. But unfortunately for him, Eponine only found the little frog cute. She gasped, and grabbed it from Joseph's hold.

"Look at how cute it is!" she raved. "That stupid animal isn't cute at all, it's disgusting." Joseph pulled up his lip. Eponine kicked the back of his knee, and told him to shut up.

"Awh, I'm naming him Joseph."

a/n: my biggest fear is joseph and eponine to be an insta-love story. i HATE instant love