Disclaimer: Kaylin is actually my name, and I'm modeling the main character off of myself because I'm in love with Enjolras. AJ and I do not own any of Les Amis or any recognizable character in this fanfiction; these rights go to Victor Hugo. Also, AJ is a real person, the person tagged on this story line (Grantairecourfeyracx). On with the story! Oh wait, ENJOLRAS GET IN HERE!!

Enjolras: What is it? I need to plan a revolution here, and you are disturbing my thoughts!!

Me: You need to be nicer, Enjy. You'll never get a girl if you keep yelling at people. And I just called you in here because I wanted to.

Enjolras: Cease calling me that god-forsaken name.

Me: I have no clue what you're talking about. Enjoy the story!!

Kaylin's POV:

My phone's alarm blares from its charger, waking me up at 7:00 AM for my first day of senior year. The wake-up song set for this year is Taylor Swift's song called 22. I roll out of my bed, groaning in exhaustion. I start to sing along because I love her music.

"I don't know about you
But I'm feeling 22
Everything will be alright if
You keep me next to youYou don't know about me
But I'll bet you want to
Everything will be alright if
We just keep dancing like we're 22, 22"

My impromptu dance party gets stopped short when my brother bangs on my door. "TURN THAT MUSIC OFF!!!" he shouts through the wood, furious. He's 14 and a freshman. Oh, I forgot to tell you about myself. Well, I have brown hair that is slightly wavy and brown eyes. I wear glasses, but I normally put in contacts. I'm around five foot four (A/N: All of this is actually me! I just wanted to actually have my looks in these stories so I can imagine myself as part of Les Amis de l'ABC. Alas, Les Miserables is only a movie. *insert crying emoji*). I am seventeen years old, turned seventeen this summer on June 24th. My brother looks completely different from me. He's blonde with hazel eyes and a slight curl to his hair when it grows out longer. He's shorter than I am, at around five one, but I'm three years older; that's to be expected. I roll my eyes and walk over to where my phone is resting on my desk. I turn my alarm off and meander over to my closet. I examine each item of clothing in it, trying to decide what outfit would be the best for my first day at a, a new school, and b, senior year. I finally choose a pale pink skirt falling down to my knees, a soft gray shirt with frilled short sleeves, and blush-colored flats. I braid my dark brown hair into a side French braid, ending in a ponytail. I examine myself in the mirror and tame any loose flyaways I see, which luckily aren't that many. I apply some mascara and leave my makeup look like that.

I grab my phone and unplug it from the cord. I walk out of my room and towards the kitchen where I grab a mug from one of our cabinets. I pour myself some coffee from where the coffee-maker sits on our counter. I crack some eggs into a frying pan and start whisking the gooey egg bits around, making scrambled eggs for both my brother and I. "Adrian, you almost ready?" I call, hearing his footsteps rushing down the stairs. I divide the finished eggs evenly and hand my brother his plate, a piece of toast and some eggs resting on it. My plate's the same. We finish our food at the same time and run upstairs to brush our teeth. I finish brushing my teeth and walk downstairs once more, grabbing my car keys and my backpack as I put my phone in one of it's pockets. "Adrian!!" I shout.

"Almost ready," he yells back down.

"Be here in two minutes or I'm driving to school without you!!" I cry out. I hear what sounds like a herd of elephants stomping down the stairs-oh wait, it's just my brother. I open the door and walk outside, Adrian following me. I close and lock the door, putting the key in another one of my backpack's pockets. I slide into the driver's seat of my car, Adrian getting in the passenger's seat. I pull out of our driveway and start the drive to school. "Are you ready for your first day?" I say, keeping my eyes on the road.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replies. "Wait, who're they?" I look quickly to my right, seeing two people-a girl about my age and a boy about Adrian's- walking on the sidewalk. I pull the car even with them.

"Hey, are you going to Saint Michelle High?" I say through the window.

"Yes, we are. Why do you want to know?" the girl responds snarkily. I sigh, a little annoyed.

"Are you really planning on walking there?" I ask another question. The girl rolls her eyes and nods.

"What does it look like we're doing?"

"Well, I could give you guys a ride," I offer. The girl looks at the boy, as if debating her options. The girl has long, dark brown hair, somewhat like mine. She also has brown eyes that are currently narrowed, as if she's on guard from something. The boy has blonde hair that is a mess and blue eyes that shine. They get in the car, both in the backseat. "I'm Kaylin. Kaylin Lambert. This is my brother, Adrian. Who are you?"

"I'm Éponine," the girls says. "And this is-"

"I'm Gavroche!" the boy interrupts. "Éponine's brother." I smile at them through the rearview mirror.

"I'm a senior this year. You guys?"

"I'm a senior as well," Éponine replies, seemingly less cold than she was before.

"I'm a freshman," Gavroche chirps happily.

"I'm a freshman too," Adrian says as he browses on his phone. I roll my eyes and pull into a parking space on the high school's grounds. I unlock the doors and open mine, stepping out onto the grass.

"Thanks," Éponine says softly, almost soft enough where I didn't hear it. 

"You're welcome," I say, smiling. I shoulder my backpack and walk into the school after checking that Adrian's behind me. He is. "Oh Jesus Christ," I mutter as I see a crowd of students milling around, blocking the hallways. I'm behind a tall man with blonde hair and a blue jacket. Apparently the school's colors are red and black, I really don't know. I look through all of the non-existent holes in the crowd and try to shove my way forwards to get to the principal's office to get my schedule for the year. Resting my hand on Adrian's shoulder, I muster my courage and tap the man in front of me on the shoulder. He turns around, spinning wildly.

"Oh, hello!" he exclaims, thrusting his hand out for a handshake. "I'm Combeferre, what's your name?" I shake his hand politely.

"Hi, I'm Kaylin. Do you know how to get to the principal's office? I'm a new student."

"I'll walk you to his office," Combeferre offers. He grabs onto my arm and pulls me through the crowd of students. "Watch out please, new meat coming through!!" he shouts, literally dragging me, and by extension Adrian, around students. Oh ew, people are making out in the hallways. Don't teenagers understand the word 'privacy?'

"You don't have to do this," I say, every word coming out as I bump into yet another person. "It's really embarrassing." Combeferre doesn't seem to hear me, soldiering on to, I'm assuming, the principal's office.

"The principal's office, mademoiselle," he does this dramatic bow, making me laugh. Adrian and I walk into the principal's office after knocking, hearing the call to come in. I see a man seated at a desk, a wooden desk with one of those stereotypical gold bars saying his name on it. The name written is VICTOR HUGO in all caps.

"Welcome Ms. and Mr. Lambert. Here are your schedules and your locker combination." He hands us both a piece of paper and a five-number combination to our locker. I thank him and look at my schedule. Instead of just listing my classes, I put the schedule below. "Does everything look right?" he questions.

"Yes, my schedule looks fine. Thank you, Mr. Hugo!" I say, trying to be polite and mature. Adrian and I leave the principal's office and I see Combeferre leaning against the wall, this time joined by two other men. I walk up to them a little shyly.

"OI, KAYLIN!!" Combeferre shouts when he sees me.

"Thanks for making me deaf, Combeferre," I say snarkily. "What is it?" I ask.

"These are two of my...." he trails off, seemingly counting in his head.

"Thirteen. 'Ferre, you need to remember this," the man on the left says without even looking up from his book. He has golden blond, wavy hair that seems very thick. His blue eyes pour over the book in his hands, maroon jacket glinting in the lights.

"Thirteen friends. Kaylin, meet Enjolras-" here he points to the blonde guy- "and Courfeyrac, both seniors like me. Courf, Enjy, meet Kaylin. She's new here and a senior as well." Blonde guy, aka Enjolras, rolls his eyes when he hears his nickname.

"How many times must I tell you to stop calling me that!?!" he exclaims. The man on the right, apparently Courfeyrac, has dark brown, curly hair with a mischievous look in his brown eyes.

"Enchanté, mademoiselle," he says, grabbing my hand and kissing it (A/N: enchanté mademoiselle = enchanted, miss). I look at him with a 'seriously?' look in my eyes. I yank my hand away from his grasp and wipe it off on my skirt.

"Did you have to do that?"

"Of course I did! It's chivalrous." I roll my eyes like Enjolras did.

"Hello, Kaylin," Enjolras says, finally putting his book down and looking at me. He extends his hand out to me and I shake it.

"Really? Enjolras here gets a handshake while I get nothing? How is that fair?" Courfeyrac whines.

"Because you tried flirting with me when you've just met me."

Courfeyrac interrupts me, "But I wasn't flirting!!" I ignore him.

"And by the way, this is my brother, Adrian. He's a freshman." I pull Adrian forward.

"Hello," Enjolras says curtly, almost immediately turning back towards his book after shaking my brother's hand. Courfeyrac shakes his hand as well, luckily not kissing it like he did me. That would be hella awkward.

"Do you guys know how to get to Comparative Literature with..." I look down at my schedule, "Dr. Lamarque?"

"I have him first period. I'll bring you there, if you want?" Enjolras offers, a split-second before Courfeyrac opens his mouth. I nod my head, smiling.

"Adrian, do you know your locker?" I question my brother protectively. He nods his head and then I facepalm. "Oh my god I'm an idiot. I need to get to my locker before I go to first class. Do you know how to get to locker 24601, Enjolras?"

"That's right next to mine. I'm 24600. I'll lead you there." I see Combeferre and Courfeyrac grinning, faces alight in smugness. What is up with them? I grin up at Enjolras and he closes his book, pushing himself off of the wall he's been leaning against. "Come on, Kaylin, is it?"

"Yes, it's Kaylin." We walk off through the halls of the high school, squeezing in between the hoards of students. "So were did you move from?" he starts a conversation, looking at me quickly and then diverting his eyes back to the hallway.

"I moved here from California," I say back. We're in Illinois now, Chicago Illinois to be precise. "I lived there my whole life and then we moved here because my dad got a promotion that had to be here instead." He nods his head and we finally reach my locker. I sigh in relief. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," he responds. "It really was no trouble, you're right next to my locker." Standing next to each other, we open our lockers and I take the books that I don't need, placing them on one of the shelves. "You ready?"

"Yeah, just need to close my locker," I say, throwing all of my weight into it. Somehow it got jammed and will not close, no matter how many times I shove it. I hear a fake-sounding cough above me and I look up at Enjolras, glaring at him. "Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, holding his hands up in surrender. "These lockers sometimes can be hard to close. Let me?" I back away from the locker and gesture towards it.

"Be my guest." He pushes the locker closed, hands pressed flat against the cool metal. "Well that looked easy when you did it."

"I have experience with these lockers," he says jokingly. I snort.

"That's what she said." He blushes a deep crimson, face as red as his jacket. "Now which way is Dr. Lamarque's classroom?" He smirks at me.

"Come on, I'll lead you there." We walk through the hallways of Saint Michelle High, finally reaching the classroom. We enter and Enjolras beelines towards a set of four desks in the front of the room, dragging me along behind him. He sits in a chair and I sit next to him, confused about why he wanted to sit in this chair. I look down at the wooden desk and see etchings sketched into it, very detailed drawings carved into the desk as if the person drawing had chosen to skip listening to the lecture in favor of creating this work of art. It's beautiful.

As I look closer, my fingers lightly tracing the drawing, I recognize the similarities between the man with his hair tied into a bun and Enjolras. I nudge him with my shoulder, prompting him to look up from his red spiral notebook that is covered with neat handwriting. "Two questions: who are these people and who drew this?" He leans over to peer at the drawing, a stray blonde curl tickling the tip of my ear.

"These are Les Amis de l'ABC, the friends that 'Ferre was talking about. Grantaire probably, he's the best drawer out of all of us," he says, pointing at the jet black curly-haired man. His finger touches each person in turn as he introduces them by pictures, taking a deep breath before he starts saying names. "From left to right, there's Jehan, Bahorel, me, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Grantaire, Feuilly, Eponiné, Joly, Lesgles/Bosseut, and Musichetta. We hadn't met Marius's girlfriend, Cosette, and Courfeyrac hadn't started dating AJ yet. AJ is Musichetta's younger twin sister. Also, Gavroche isn't in this because we hadn't met him yet either."

"Well Grantaire's an amazing artist. It's so detailed!!"

"That he is. He's the best drawer out of Les Amis. I'm absolute crap at it." I laugh.

"Same. I'm absolutely terrible as well. I mean, I can draw quick doodles like a dog face, a human, and the French flag because I get bored. And because Les Miserables is literally the best movie ever. But anything with better artistic ability and the drawings look like chicken scratch." He starts to snigger and I join in his chuckling until almost everyone in our classroom is looking at us like we're idiots or insane. Enjolras goes back to his red notebook after awhile and I look at him, confused. "What's in that notebook?" I ask quietly. "You seem very engaged in it." He looks up at me while tapping his pen on the spiral edges.

"Well, I'm the president of the student council and we're planning different protests we could do, like a rally for Pride Month and whatnot. Would you like to join? Every Ami is in that group."

"Sure. I'll join Student Council. I was on it for the past three years at my old school. What are your plans?" He pushes the red notebook so that we can both read at and, shockingly, I can read his handwriting. Most boys have the worst handwriting in the world and you can barely read it (A/N: Basically all of the boys I've met have terrible handwriting so I'm making this story like that. Sorry if you are a guy and have wonderful handwriting). Enjolras's is very neat and each letter is written meaningfully. We spend the rest of the time the teacher, Dr. Lamarque, isn't in the classroom quietly discussing the plans for the protests and writing down our ideas. Then, Dr. Lamarque walks in and everybody becomes quiet. As Enjolras and I were discussing plans, Courfeyrac and Combeferre had walked into the classroom and had sat down in the other two desks next to ours.

"Good morning class," the professor says. He has white hair, owl-like glasses, and age lines on his face that seem to be a product of laughter. "We have a new student this year. Ms. Lambert, would you please stand up and tell us more about yourself?" he addresses me, grinning jovially at me. I smile back at him and stand up from my seat.

"My name is Kaylin Lambert and I just moved here from California. I'm a senior and I like to act, play volleyball, and hang out with my friends. I also love to read." I sit back down and rest my chin on my hand, ready for the lecture today. I pull out my cerulean spiral and flip to the first page, putting the date in the upper right hand corner of the paper and my name, teacher, period, and year of high school in the upper left corner for my heading. I like to think that I have very neat handwriting, the cursive small and orderly. The professor points to an author's name written on the whiteboard in a dark blue marker, the print tidy and large.

"Victor Hugo," Dr. Lamarque starts. "Can anyone tell me what novels he has written?" I beam widely as I raise my hand. "Yes, Ms. Lambert?"

"Victor Hugo has written many different novels, but the two I have read and can remember are The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Les Miserables." I love Les Miserables!! It's such a good book, movie, and musical! I've seen the movie twice before and basically fell head over heels in love with Aaron Tveit, who plays Enjolras, even though he's like twenty years older than I am. Huh, Enjolras is a character in Les Mis, but he's also sitting right next to me. That's weird. I scribble down a quick note on a Post-It and nudge Enjolras in the shoulder, quickly handing him the sticky note before the teacher sees.

Did you know that your first/last name, IDK which 'Enjolras' is, is the same as one of the characters' last names in Les Miserables?  He kind of looks like you; it's weird. 

-Kaylin

He stares down at the note for a second and taps his pen on the desk, probably thinking about what to write. He writes something down quickly and hands the note to me discreetly.

Yeah, I've seen the movie before. We're scarily alike. 'Enjolras' is my last name, FYI. It's odd, I know. But I am French, so that's where it comes from.

-Enjolras

I draw my best attempt at a thumbs-up emoji, and it turns out terribly. But it works. I scoot the note over to Enjolras's desk and he looks at it, smiling up at me. I turn my attention back to Dr. Lamarque, who is talking about Victor Hugo and his writing.

"For Comparative Literature with me, you will be reading the book Les Miserables and watching the 2012 movie in class." My jaw drops. I can't believe my luck!! I've never been able to watch Les Mis in class, even when we were studying the French Revolution (A/N: I've never watched Les Miserables in class but I really want to! It would be amazing and now I want to beg my Ancient World History teacher to let us watch the movie)! This is going to be so fun!!! I have to physically restrain myself from breaking out into one of the amazing songs in the movie, something that I can tell Enjolras finds funny as he's quietly laughing into his hand. "Today, you are going to write a short essay about your favorite book and why it's your favorite. Just books, please, no movies. I'm looking for at least a page, but it can be greater. No more than three pages, though." I think about all of the books I've read over the years, finally deciding to write about, what else, Les Mis. I get to work, quickly forming an outline and forming my essay.

Finally, I finish my essay. It's two and a quarter notebook pages, and I have checked it for grammar errors. I look over at Courfeyrac and Combeferre, who look to be done with their essays. How do I know this, you ask? They're playing table football, and Combeferre seems like a studious person. I look over at Enjolras, who is hunched over his paper writing quickly and, at least it seems from where I am, elegantly. It looks like he's finished a page and is currently on his second.

"Once you are done with your essay, please hand it in to me. When you have finished, you may talk quietly." I stand up from my seat and walk over to the teacher's desk, stapling my essay together. I put the pages in the wire tray on his desk, the one that I'm assuming is where he collects homework and stuff. I return to my seat and sit down, pulling out my phone to do something that I don't yet know. My phone case is, surprise surprise, a Les Mis one.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn slightly in my chair to see Courfeyrac and Combeferre standing there like bodyguards, making me snort quietly at the thought I just had.

"What's your next class?" Combeferre asks. I pull out my schedule dramatically, making them laugh. I look at the Monday column and finally see that I have Calculus with Mr. Valjean. I tell them this, and they nod their heads. "I'm in that class along with Enj. Courfeyrac has a free period then along with his girlfriend, Alexia." He says 'girlfriend' in a teasing tone to, I'm assuming, get on Courfeyrac's nerves.

"Oh shut up, Ferre," Courfeyrac retorts. Turning to me, he adds, "You also have that class with Musichetta (AJ's older sister), Éponine, and Marius. Cosette's father is the teacher. He's somewhat strict but way nicer than Javert." I groan.

"I have Mr. Javert the period after that. AP United States Government and Politics?"

"He's terrible," a voice sounds from behind me. I spin around and see Enjolras standing there with his backpack hanging off of one shoulder. "He's not the worst, that's Mr. and Mrs. Thenardier, but he's bad. You don't want to get off on the wrong foot with him." Courfeyrac snorts. The bell rings and we start walking towards our next classes.

"He's speaking from experience," the man stage-whispers over to me, prompting Enjolras to roll his eyes. "And, Kaylin, what movie or musical is that phone case from?" he says, pointing at my phone.

I mock gasp. "This," I say, brandishing my phone in the air, "is only the best movie of all time!! It's the movie of Les Miserables."

Combeferre smirks. "You seem very passionate about it."

"You have no idea," I reply, grinning.

"Could you sing one of the songs from the movie?" Courfeyrac asks.

"The answer is yes. Do you have a specific song in mind?" Enjolras, I think the only one who has seen the movie, smirks and names a song title.

"On My Own, please." I pull up the karaoke on my phone and tap the play button, hearing the beginning of the song play through the speakers. I begin to sing along to the song as we walk through the halls of the school.

"On my own

Pretending he's beside me
All alone
I walk with him till morning
Without him
I feel his arms around me
And when I lose my way
I close my eyes

And he has found me

In the rain

The pavement shines like silverThe pavement shines like silver

All the lights

Are misty in the river
In the darkness
The trees are full of starlight

And all I see is him and me forever and foreverAnd I know
It's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself
And not to him
And although
I know that he is blind

It's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself
And not to him
And although
I know that he is blind

Still I say

There's a way for us

I love him

But when the night is over
He is gone
The river's just a river
Without him
The world around me changes
The trees are bare and everywhere
The streets are full of strangers

I love him

But every day I'm learning
All my life
I've only been pretending
Without me
His world will go on turning
A world that's full of happiness
That I have never known
I love him
I love him
I love him
But only on my own"

I finish the song just when Courfeyrac has to split away from us.

"That..... was a great song. You have an amazing singing voice."

"Thank you," I say to Combeferre as we walk towards Calculus. "Can you guys sing?"

"Yeah, I can sing pretty well," Combeferre admits. I turn to Enjolras.

"What about you, Enjolras?" I ask.

Combeferre answers for him. "Nobody knows. Well, except him of course. I've never heard him sing anything." I give Enjolras puppy-dog eyes because I want to hear him sing.

"Pleaseeeeeeeee?" I draw out the please for as long as I can without making it sound way too girly-girly.

"No."

"Oh come on, Enjolras!" I exclaim. "I just sang a whole flipping song because you guys wanted to hear me sing yet you won't do the same? I'll even suggest a song." I cross my arms and stop straight in the middle of the hallway. "I'm not leaving here until you sing." Enjolras sighs and tries to drag me along, but I dig my feet into the ground.

"Fine!" he cries out, maybe a little louder than he intended because he starts to blush. His pale cheeks stain a light pink as I grin in victory.

"Okay...." I trail off, tapping my chin with my finger. "you will be singing Red and Black. I'm assuming you know the lyrics?" He rolls his eyes.

"Yes I know the lyrics." I start the music and smirk at Enjolras, motioning for him to start singing.

"The time is near

So near it's stirring the blood in their veins!
And yet beware
Don't let the wine go to your brains!
We need a sign
To rally the people
To call them to arms
To bring them in line!"

"How much of this do I have to do?" he complains, annoyed.

"Hmmm probably all of Enjolras's lines because, you know, your last name is Enjolras?" He sighs and waits a while until the character in particular starts singing again.

"It is time for us all
To decide who we are
Do we fight for the right
To a night at the opera now?
Have you asked of yourselves
What's the price you might pay?
Is it simply a game
For a rich young boy to play?
The colors of the worlds
Are changing day by day

Red, the blood of angry men!

Black the dark of ages past!
Red, a world about to dawn!
Black, the night that ends at last!" Combeferre is listening in awe as Enjolras's voice molds around the lyrics, mouth forming the words beautifully and forcing my gaze towards his lips. I catch myself and look away, up to his eyes which doesn't help much. I'm able to add the scoff Enjolras (the character) does when Marius (the character) starts singing about how much he loves Cosette (again the character).

"Marius, you're no longer a child
I do not doubt you mean it well
But now there is a higher call.
Who cares about your lonely soul?
We strive towards a larger goal
Our little lives don't count at all!

Red, the blood of angry men!

Black, the dark of ages past!
Red, a world about to dawn!
Black, the night that ends at last!"

"How much more of this is there?" Enjolras complains as he finishes the last note off with a flourish.

"Just one more!!" I encourage. He sings on while glaring at me, his blue eyes blazing.

"Lamarque! His death is the hour of fate.

The people's man.
His death is the sign we await!

On his funeral day they will honor his name.

With the light of rebellion ablaze in their eyes
With their candles of grief we will kindle our flame
On the tomb of Lamarque shall our barricade rise

They will come one and all
They will come when we call!" Enjolras holds the last word out for as long as he can, chest heaving once he finishes. I clap, awestruck.

"You never told me you could sing!!" Combeferre exclaims, looking somewhat annoyed but also somewhat shocked. I'm pretty sure my face is only shocked.

"Okay that was wonderful. The school should put on Les Miserables for their play and you should be Enjolras. I will literally drag you to audition." He rolls his eyes.

"Really? Isn't that assualt?" Enjolras retorts sarcastically. We pull up outside of the calculus classroom and walk inside it, Enjolras and Combeferre splitting away from me as they walk towards their friend, Marius I'm pretty sure, and sit down at three desks that are lined up in a row together. I raise my eyebrows and go to the row in front of them and sit down directly in front of Enjolras and next to a petite woman with black hair in a bun and startling blue eyes. I turn to her and stick my hand out.

"Hi, I'm Kaylin Lambert. I'm new to Saint Michelle High. What's your name?"

"I'm Musichetta," the woman responds, smiling at me. "Musichetta Swiffen." I shake her hand and grin at her.

"This may sound like an odd question, but do you have a younger sister named AJ? I've met Combeferre and Courfeyrac and they were talking about someone named Musichetta in this class that has a younger sister named AJ."

Musichetta laughs. "Yes, I do have a younger sister named AJ. She's dating Courfeyrac currently, which I'm pretty sure you know by now."

"Yes, I do know that. Apparently Courfeyrac has a class with her now." Musichetta nods. The teacher, Mr. Valjean, starts class and I start to diligently take notes, writing down calculus equations and more.

Author's Note: Okay this is an incredibly long chapter, over 5,000 words!! Basically that's all that happens in Calculus. Now they're off to Mr. Javert's class. It's not going to end well, that's all I'm saying. Hopefully you guys enjoyed!!!

                 -Kaylin