Alright! So I'm alive... And I'm going to write a Mizzies in high school story! I've had little ideas for one of these, so I thought I'd give it a try.

Enjolras: Disclaimer.

Me: Fine. I don't own Les Miz. Happy?

Enjolras: Yes.

"They're here, Mr. Valjean." The principal's secretary said with a slight laugh. Mr. Valjean looked up from a note on his desk, smiling slightly. The whole office staff had made a small bet on how long it would take for them to be sent to his office the first week, and Valjean had won by a day.

The old-but-not-too-old principal got up and leaned out the door. "Alright, come in, Remy. You too, Julien."

A tall, almost lanky young man stood first. He would've been considered the best-looking guy on campus if he wasn't scowling all the time. But with friends like his, Julien Enjolras had his reasons.

And right now, his reason for the sour look on his face was Remy Grantaire. Remy was the village idiot of their group of friends, and the exact opposite of Julien. Or Enjolras, as he was usually called. While Enjolras was the captain of almost every sports team known to man and a member of the debate team, Grantaire participated in almost nothing at Schonberg High School, except football. But ALL of their friends played football, including a reluctant Marius Pontmercy.

"So, boys, what seems to be the problem?" Valjean inquired as Enjolras finally had himself situated a fair distance away from Grantaire in one of the chairs facing Valjean's desk.

"Grantaire..." Enjolras began, searching for the right words. "Grantaire asked the Drum Major out for me."

"And that's a problem? That caused you to," the principal looked at the report from Mr. Thenardier, the shop teacher who had encountered the fight, "throw a history book at Grantaire's head?"

"Yes, it is a problem! And yes, I admit, I threw the book at him!"

"Oh, you're just worked up because she said yes," Grantaire grumbled from his spot. "Hey, Mr. V, I wasn't hurt or anything. Can we just go?" He started to get up. "Or we're going to be late to Mr. Mackintosh's theatre class. And you know how he gets..." He looked pointedly to Enjolras, who still glared at him angrily, but got up anyway.

"Yeah, I mean, it's noon on the second day, Mr. Valjean, sir." Enjolras pointed out. "Grantaire's right; we shouldn't keep our teachers waiting over such a ridiculous and juvenile event."

Mr. Valjean smiled, the lines by his eyes crinkling merrily. He stood and nodded. "Go on then. Go." He told them. "And Enjolras! You better be ready for Webber High this Friday!"

Enjolras, the junior quarterback and football captain, turned back to the principal. "Oh, we'll show them again. They can't be any worse than last year."

(The Schonberg Steamers had beaten the Webber Lords 35-3 last year.)

Valjean dismissed Enjolras once more and sat back in his seat. His secretary, Fantine, peeked in. "Everything alright?" She asked.

"Yes, of course. Enjolras has a temper on him, but he can't stay mad at his friends for too long. He understands their importance." He replied. "A fine trait in a man as young as him."

"Shall I tell Mackintosh that Grantaire and Enjolras will be late?"

"No, no. Something tells me that he has just received the two..."

Enjolras slid into the last remaining seat in Mr. Mackintosh's classroom, not realizing that he was sitting next to his new "girlfriend" as Grantaire had started to call her. Rosie Mitchell was the junior Drum Major, and the girl who had been the bane of Enjolras' existence since the sixth grade. They didn't respect each other at all; they preferred it like that.

"Julien." She stated coldly, not looking up from her Jane Austen novel. Enjolras cringed. Rosie purposely called him by his first name.

"Rose." He said. "I heard you accepted Grantaire's... Proposal of a date with me."

"Only to observe what makes you so painfully irritating. That, and I knew Grantaire was doing it for a joke. My accepting would annoy you even further." Rosie explained as if it were the simplist thing on Earth.

"I hate you." He grumbled as the class started.

Rosie smiled into her book. "The feeling is mutual."

Grantaire and Enjolras both rejoiced when the bell rang, meaning they only had one period left; free period. Enjolras retreated to the library to meet Combeferre and Marius, while Grantaire left for the day. He didn't see the point of having free period at the end of the day, but did allow for him to have a nap between school and practice. Grantaire didn't complain.

Enjolras had many complaints, however.

"B-But Eponine! That is MY SPOT. That has been my spot since Freshman year!" Enjolras declared, holding a Robespierre book in his hand. The thin, dark-haired girl shrugged.

"Marius' Barbie doll took my spot," she sighed casually.

In Eponine's usual spot, a blonde girl sat, listening to Marius explain his politics book, giggling and touching his arm. Enjolras inwardly gagged; how anyone wanted a clingy, needy girl like that, he didn't understand. If he ever dated, he'd want a girl who would know who she was.

But he kept his thoughts to himself, as the Barbie doll was the principal's daughter, Cosette. (And he did not have any intentions of visiting Mr. Valjean again. Or worse, Mr. Javert, the Vice-Principal.)

He ended up sitting, much to his dismay, with Rosie. She wasn't much of a bother though, especially when she was working on homework. Enjolras watched her scrawled writing rush across a page in her English notebook, noticing that it was almost loopy, and cursive like, but unconnected.

"Your handwriting's funny." He mumbled. She glared at him. "It's interesting, I mean."

"Well, I'm always in a hurry, Enjolras. Something I'm sure you can relate to." The final bell rang and Rosie got up. "See you tomorrow, Enj."

Rosie left and Enjolras leaned back in his chair. She had actually called him Enjolras. And Enj...

"I think she likes you," Eponine whispered. Enjolras mentally twitched.

There was no way Rosie liked him... Was there?

I'm sorry about the OC and dumb jock!jolras... He'll get better, I promise!

Also, are the high school names too tacky?