Many thanks to the wonderful Toff for betaing these for me... She is Amazing, did you know?

This has been majorly renovated... I invented a third party!

I have seen many, many badly written "(insert book here) Goes to High School" fics. However, I don't think that writing a good "goes to hs" fic is either impossible or a crime; I see it as being a very difficult literary challenge. Well, have I succeeded? Only you can decide…

Yes, this is set in America, approximately fifty years in the future. Yes, I changed that. I know that I didn't set anybody in the right 'age order'; I just did what made sense given their various personalities and teenage society today.

THE SPOKEN

Every high school has its groups and cliques. Even Lower Montage High School. There was, however, one group at LMHS that seemed to stick out; a group of boys who spoke in whispers in the library between classes, who met in a local café during the evenings, and who, when the school rose to pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, never said the line "under God", though several of this group attended church. The 'gossips' of the school watched them curiously as they spoke of politics in the halls, but found their attention wandering elsewhere, to other subjects such as the new girl and which males were interested in her. Still, this group of boys existed, away from the social spotlight of the school.

There were nine; Enjolras, Combeferre, Jean Prouvaire, Feuilly, Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Lesgle, Joly, and Grantaire. They were all in different years of school, but had close-knit friendships that are not at all unusual among youth.

Enjolras was the group's unconditional leader. He was in his Junior year, and was at the top of said class; he had raw intelligence and insurmountable drive. He was beautiful in a conventional way, and had an angelic shimmer about him. His words were eloquent and his voice stirring. He was, by much of the female populace of the school, highly coveted, but paid the attention that he was showered with little heed. He had one thought- a passion.

In Enjolras's mind, the country was now turning back on the ideals and basis of it's founding. These changes were not only seen by Enjolras; they were seen by many, but they enraged Enjolras in particular; he hated oppression, and he hated hypocrisy. Today's government, he thought, had both. That third party, the Victors, had come to power in 2008, and had gradually been easing the country away from the Constitution. Its power had only increased along with its hypocricy. And what increases, though only gradually, will continue to increase.

Enjolras was slightly more aloof than the rest of his friends, but was closer to one friend in particular; Combeferre.

Combeferre was a Senior. He was gentle and kind, a sharp contrast to Enjolras, who, though charming, could be severe and abrupt. Combeferre's outlook on life was slightly milder than Enjolras's; Enjolras was of the opinion that soon, the government would have to be overthrown and reinstated, or altered by force. Combeferre wanted to find a more civil approach to the solution of said problem.

Combeferre was a realist; Enjolras was an idealist.

Jean Prouvaire, called Jehan, was a Freshman. He was artistic, smaller than the rest of the boys in his year, and loved romance. He gave off an air of frail delicacy, but could suddenly change his aura to one of strength and masculinity. He had an odd obsession for foreign languages, for the reason of reading various classics in their original tongue. He was intellectual, and so, powerful in his own right.

Feuilly, in Combeferre's year, was an orphan. He was the eldest of his friends at the age of eighteen. He had lived with his aunt through his adolescence, but now lived alone. He was extremely self-sufficient; in addition to his schooling, he worked part-time as an attendant in an electronics store. He paid his own bills with no assistance from his family. He had many convictions, and was history-obsessed for the reason that these convictions be supported by as much fact as was available.

Courfeyrac was a Junior. He sometimes seemed to be younger than his years; he had a certain playful quality about him. While Enjolras was the leader of the group, Courfeyrac was the heart. He was nobody's closest friend; rather, he was everybody's second closest friend.

Bahorel, in his Sophomore year, was the most conventionally 'social' of their group. He was whimsical, and seemed to take little seriously, save for trouble. The teachers were to be mocked, the subjects to be ridiculed. The only thing better than a joke was a quarrel, and the greater the quarrel the better, especially if it was justified. However, he was more of an intellectual than he seemed to be, and his convictions were strongly engrained.

Lesgle was in his Junior year, and had, in his seventeen years, had more bad luck than the rest of the high school put together. He was balding, his father dead, and any relationships that he entered unsteady and brief. However, he took the misfortune well, with a shrug and a wink.

Joly was a Senior, and was a hypochondriac. He was constantly using what knowledge he had of medicine to diagnose himself with a new illness, and had a mirror in his locker for the sole purpose of examining his tongue between classes. Still, he was happy and agreeable.

What do these eight have in common? They all had the belief that the world and their country had been born great, and could be greater; that everybody had to play a part. They were faithful in their convictions; they had strong political and philosophical views that they did not doubt.

There was one, however, who doubted everything. His name was Grantaire, and he was a Sophomore. He was skeptical of everything; he challenged his knowledge and the beliefs of others. He took great care not to believe anything.

He was the conventional "troublemaker"; the one whom the faculty looked at pityingly, whispering how the poor boy would amount to nothing. He was clearly intelligent, yet rarely attended class. When he did attend, he was frequently and obviously hung over.

While all of the young men respected Enjolras, Grantaire worshipped him. To say that Enjolras did not care for Grantaire was an understatement, but Grantaire did not seem to mind. Grantaire went out of his way to walk behind Enjolras between classes. Enjolras dismissed him again and again, but Grantaire, with an unwavering and touching faith, always spoke highly of Enjolras to any who would listen.

What did these nine call themselves? They called themselves "the Spoken."

COSETTE

Cosette was a small girl for her age; she was sixteen and a Junior. Her mother had died when she had been very small, and she had been adopted by a foster family. However, this family had not nurtured her as they had promised; she had been horribly abused until she had been taken in by her current foster father.

She did not remember any of her life before he had come into it; that is to say, before the age of seven. There was simply an empty void. She did not know that her foster father was not her biological father; he wanted to protect her from the truth about her past. And of his.

Nevertheless, as she walked into a public school for the first time in her life, she had to wonder Why she had been kept home for those many years; educated at home, with only her father for company- studying hard in her academic subjects, playing the piano with delicate skill, and studying religion with a humble fascination. She had been taught well, however, and so shrugged it off as she set foot in the main atrium of the three-level school.

Never had she seen so many children- some bigger than she, some smaller; yet all seeming to know somebody, to not be alone. Even the Freshmen knew each other and their fellow students, for it was the first day of second semester, and only one transfer student had been taken.

Cosette.

Shaken, she took her schedule out of her new book bag, and began to navigate her way to the school's auditorium for the opening assembly.

EPONINE

From the third floor railing, Eponine studied the new arrival. Something was familiar about her, but she could not be sure of what. The girl had brown hair that flowed in neat curls, and was dressed well. She looked too young to be a Senior, and Eponine knew that she was not in the tenth or ninth grade; the grades that she and her brother, respectively, were in.

Gavroche followed her gaze. "What?"

"That girl. The one with the brown hair. The one that looks lost. She look familiar to you?"

Gavroche shrugged. "We're going to be late if you don't move it."

Eponine shrugged and followed her brother to the second floor, where a pair of double doors were open and students were struggling to get through them, into the auditorium. As they did, Eponine caught sight of a head of dark hair and followed it.

"Hello, Marius."

"Um. Oh. Hi, 'Ponine."

"What's new? I've not seen you around too much."

"Oh, you know, been busy," the Junior boy said, suddenly ducking away, having seen a gap between two people that he managed to squeeze into. Eponine shrugged, pulled a section of her auburn hair into her mouth, and continued into the auditorium.

So, what do you think? Should I continue, or just delete this? I know that the idea is sort of risky, but I think you can see where I'm going with this. If I've stayed close to the character's personalities and such, can you tell me, and if I've not, can you tell me where that is? I intend Gavroche to still be living with his family, because it's unrealistic to have a child randomly out on the street while attending high school, but let me know what you think. Thus far, am I meeting the challenge?