Work Text:
Éponine knew hardly anything about her body. Due to the ignorance of the school, she wasn’t really given a good education on how her body worked and how she was supposed to do to react to the changes.
First of all, she began bleeding last year. Her mother wanted to wait until after her GCSEs exams were finished to get her ovaries checked out by a doctor. Once her period began, she couldn’t exactly remember what she was supposed to do. Something, something, eggs, something, something, hormone, sex, something, CPR- wait, that was another lesson… What did happen in sex-ed?
Even now she struggled to remember. But one thing her mother told her was to wear period pads. They were like a hammock for blood. A blood hammock of sorts. Due to her heavy flow, it was difficult to not skip class to change it every two hours. On top of that, her family was quite near the poverty line so Éponine always felt guilty for ‘stealing’ so much of their finance.
Once she found out about the magic of tampons she stole money (legally not allowed to reveal who from) and bought a pack of them, not reading that the level of flow mattered. Thus, she had a pile of light flow tampons. At first, she bit her tongue and got used to more regular visits to the toilets (since they weren’t necessarily a new experience), but things got more difficult as sometimes she would find the tampon just lying peacefully on her panties when she would pull them down to find nothing stuck in her vagina.
In conclusion, the tampons she had were too small. She couldn’t be as bouncy or physically active anymore and had to walk like a person who had just been kicked in the testes or someone who had to really urinate.
After a while, she forgot the hoops she had to go through as they became habit. Sure, that was a good thing, but it also had its negative consequences. You see, when she made layers of new rules, she had forgotten the reasons she behaved a certain way and why she had changed her behaviour as well. So, a couple of months later, she returned back to walking like how she used to. On top of that, she forgot that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to run like a mad hyena in P.E class.
Sadly enough, Éponine was distracted by the oncoming race in her class and the little voice which reminded her to not be too active was drowned out by her warrior-like screaming for victory of this battle.
Well, as one could imagine this situation did not end well.
Everything expected happened. From the tampon becoming loose from her vagina, to it finding itself at the exit of her panties, to it falling down to the floor (something that the author of this story definitely has no ties of reality nor relatability with).
Drowning in her desires to be the first in the race, she didn’t notice her leak beginning. It wasn’t until she finished first did she allow her ears to hear gossips and laughing from the boys on the track. Of course they would be laughing, they always did. But this time, it was off because she could feel something was wrong with her vagina and especially her cold, wet knickers.
“‘Ponine,” A girl she hardly ever spoke to grabbed her arm gently and whispered in her ear, “I don’t mean to scare you but you have a line of blood going down your leg. It’s thin- don’t worry, but probably wipe it off?”
With red rising to her cheeks, she impatiently looked down, frightened at what others must have been thinking.
“I don’t think anyone saw.” The girl lied but given that her voice was soothing, Éponine’s brain was pushing herself to believe her.
Using her foot, she desperately rubbed her blood away, kind of making it worse. She then used her hand to rub it off, embarrassed beyond belief. “Thanks, Musichetta.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I didn’t know you knew my name but I will take it as flattery.”
Oh right, she probably didn’t know there were nasty rumours about her travelling everywhere. Kind of depressing to realise that was the only reason she knew her name. “It sure is a flattery.”
Then there was a hard thump in the middle of the track by a brunette boy, shy but trying to stand as stereotypically masculine as he could. The only reason Éponine and Musichetta’s attention had moved to him was because a bunch of boys (from another class who were also doing P.E at the same time) were gathering, pointing at the floor in which the brunette looked around and shrugging.
“Oh no.” Musichetta caught up with what was happening before Éponine could.
The girl jogged up to them, talking to the boy and his friends. Awkward, and feeling unguarded, Éponine followed her to find out what was happening.
Once she realised they were talking about blood possibly being on the floor, she began sweating. Hard. Her hands were literally dipped in a pool of sweat and her heart was an engine of a sports car. “Wha-what do you mean blood?” She scrunched her face to pass it off as a ridiculous scenario.
The boys erupted in argument about what they may or may not had seen.
It wasn’t until Musichetta clapped her hands to get their attention did some sort of calmness reach their voices, “Maybe you guys didn’t actually see anything? Every one of you is telling a different story.”
They looked around, trying to see what their friends beside them would say.
“Look,” Marius (the boy who was on Musichetta’s side) pointed past them, “While we were yelling at each other about something nonexistent, the teacher let our class play football and we’re missing it.”
Just like that, the crowd disappeared, trying to participate in anything but class it seemed.
It was also at this point Éponine decided to reevaluate what she once thought of the background character that was Marius. Sure, she had seen him every now and then and even knew his name because he was often the object of playful bullying from his friends, but she never thought he was… Well, this. He was kind, she realised, he stepped out of his comfort zone to protect her from an embarrassing future. For what reason? Just to be kind!
When Marius removed his foot, the squashed tampon lay on the floor. Even with her expecting it, it was very embarrassing. Éponine quickly knelt down to grab it but it seemed like somebody else also had that idea as Marius crouched down.
As Éponine looked up to see this handsome boy in a new light, she heard something fall from his shorts. Eyeing the fallen object down, she realised it was rolled up socks. What? Wait, why? Did that really fall out from Marius’ shorts?
She returned to look at Marius, who was kneeling in front of her, his eyes on the socks. Awkwardly he rotated his face to look at her, the two close enough to feel each other’s heat rising to their cheeks: both from embarrassment.
“Ah, thank you!” Éponine picked up her tampon closed her fist with it in, making sure it will never escape her again.
“No- no, uh, problem.” Marius grabbed his sock in lightning speed and looked down his pants before snapping himself out of the moment and started walking away backwards. “You saw nothing, Musi.”
“My eyes were closed.” She replied.
Éponine stared in confusion.
“Uh, goodbye.” Marius said as he hastily walked away.
“You have blood on your shoe!” Musichetta tried to keep her voice down but also make sure Marius could hear her.
Although Marius didn’t verbally give any response, he changed his walking style by dragging his (bloody) show as he walked; like an injured animal.
“I feel like I’m on blood-spotting duty,” Musichetta laughed at herself, “Blood… What was I going to say about… Blood? Oh! ‘Ponine, you need to go to the toilet ASAP if you’re on your period and your tampon just fell out. Are you wearing pads with you at the moment?”
Oh God, Éponine slapped herself in the face, she needed to get a grip in life. It was like one domino falling after another. “Ahhhh!” She let out a sound which sounded like a boy going through puberty who was trying to sing. She nodded and ran off, exiting the track and the school field.
It wasn’t until later that school day did Éponine think beyond the tampon and wonder why Marius had a sock falling out of his shorts. And why he looked down his pants momentarily before walking off. ‘Was that a boy’s thing?’ She wondered. ‘Was it….’ She gasped. ‘A boner thing?’
The confusion unfortunately did not fade away and by the time the next day rolled over, Éponine was already tracking the boy down in the school to talk to him. This was a fairly easy task to do since she had always been good at sniffing out people. It wasn’t like her father called her a bomb-sniffing dog. No, that wasn’t her nickname at all.
“Marius, hey,” She slid into his circle of space, “Remember last time we met… At the track field?”
His eyes turned wide.
“Ah! That moment was embarrassing for me, not you. So you shouldn’t be so shocked or… Yeah.”
He gave a short forced laugh and rubbed the back of his neck while he looked down at the floor, “Yeah, Éponine… I know what you’re talking about but I don’t want to talk about the incident…”
“Oh, is it because of the blood? Don’t worry, I’m a tough girl, I’m not weirded out by blood. In fact, I enjoy it! You know what though? I will stop talking.”
He tried to look at her eyes but avoided hers immediately after his attempt. “It’s not… That. But I’m glad you’re not afraid of blood, Éponine.”
Hearing her name being said by Marius made her elated. What a confirmation that he knew her! It was an odd combination: him and her, but the oddness was what made it interesting!
“Although,” He broke her silent pause (where so many things were happening in her head which was translated to a frozen stare into the air), “Musi told me about you… She said you were… Accepting?”
Éponine waited for him to continue, not sure if he had just raised his pitch due to his verbal tendencies or if he asked her a question on whether she was, just in general, accepting.
“I will talk to you tomorrow. With Musi. I’ll text her.” He looked around. “I’ll tell you in P.E since we have them on at the same time. Do you know what you’ll be doing in class?”
She shrugged. “Probably more running. We’ve done short distance so maybe we’ll do long distance next time?”
“Fantastic,” He nodded, “We’re going to do baseball I think so I can always skip. I usually say I have stick-arms and it can be easily be broken by a ball flying at me. Then I can skip many P.E classes.” He tried to joke. “I’m no Montparnasse.”
Oh. Éponine knew who that was. He was the best athlete in the school. Well, it wasn’t like the school had many good athletes, but he was impressive nevertheless. “Oh yeah, I’m no Montparnasse either. But I am very strong!”
He smiled warmly. “I know.”
Hopefully she hadn’t frozen in place again. But the amount of happiness she received from those two words were immeasurable. Was this what the so-called ‘crush’ was? Wow, what a strange feeling. She couldn’t fathom why people would like this feeling. Oh well, now she had gotten them she had to deal with them.
The next thing she had to do was then wait until the next day. She sighed. It seemed there was a whole lot of waiting lately. But if the waiting means she got to spend more time with Marius, she was going to wait. And she happily, albeit impatiently, did so.
As P.E began on the next day, Musichetta easily found her. Gently, she took her by the arm and lead her far away from their class. “Don’t worry, ‘Ponine,” Musichetta sang, “Our teacher won’t even notice it.”
She then waved which Marius somehow noticed and ran up to them. “Hi, guys.” He spoke breathlessly. “Let’s talk.”
“Yeah, but I feel like I’m the only one who hears the teacher yelling at us behind me.” Éponine casually informed them, unsure if they too noticed it.
“Oh yeah,” Musichetta turned to see her teacher and waved at her, “I was wondering where that chain-smoking frog sounds were coming from. Come on, we’ll jog. Pretend that we’re doing something.”
“Oh, okay.” Éponine eyed Marius; knowing his physical abilities he had displayed thus far she wasn’t sure if he could even talk while jogging.
Nevertheless the three began to jog with Éponine reminding herself that this wasn’t a competition and to slow down. The two beside her began explaining their situation.
“Right, so,” Marius spoke, huffing, “There was a problem yesterday because I forgot to bring… my undies to school.”
Right, so Marius brought his socks instead? Éponine was so confused.
“So I had to wear…” Marius scrunched his face. “Knickers. You know, for women?”
“Oh,” Éponine cocked her head. “Yeah.”
“So, well, my sock which was down there fell out. I should’ve been wearing boxers…”
Éponine stopped running. “How come you had to wear women’s knickers?”
Marius looked around, panicking, before realising they had ran a far enough distance that no one could hear them even if they tried. “Uh, well… My mother forces me.”
Éponine’s eyes grew in shock. “But that’s abuse! That’s objective abuse! She can’t control you like that!”
There was no response so Éponine got rightfully angry. “Well? Why is that happening? Did she want a daughter?”
Marius watched his feet. “It’s more complicated than that… The important thing I wanted to tell you is that I am trans. Oh, transgender means I don’t identify with the sex I was born as. So… Right now I have a vagina. I need a penis. That was why my sock was down there. The knickers was why they fell off so easily. God, yesterday was a nightmare. I was so uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I was mean to you. I was so scared. I couldn’t have my sock in. I… I didn’t feel like a boy… I didn’t feel like me… You know? Walking around thinking everyone knows what I was born as. Not who I’ve always been. How everyone thought I was a girl… It was painful…”
For the first time there was silence from Éponine. There was a weird sense of relatability in what he had just said. The feeling that others saw her in a different way; that they saw her as ‘too feminine’. Surely, that had nothing to do with who she was… The fact that she didn’t even look at her chest, being in denial that anything was growing there. Or her fear of when her period began… She had this sense of relief when her friends started their period but not her…
All these feelings and memories had just unravelled and revealed itself now. It was if all those experiences were locked up in a box in her head, not to be opened because of how many questions and changes she would had have to make for herself. Perhaps. Or she related nothing to him. She just didn’t know what was happening to her.
“Marius, I don’t know what to say.” Éponine murmured.
“It’s funny,” He said, trying to make eye contact with her but failing, “I’m usually the one saying that.”
Only Musichetta laughed at his joke. She wrapped her arm around her carefully, “You see, he has to come to the school to be himself. He brings spare clothes. He misplaced his boxers yesterday. To be fair I forgot my bra one time… Well, that was embarrassing. People thought my tits fell off for a day! I had to get tissues but they looked like deflated boobs. I don’t know how I managed that day…”
“Hey, I gave you the bra my mother made me wear!” Marius humphed.
“Hey, that’s true,” She clicked her fingers then looked at the confused Éponine. “Oh, I’m trans too.”
“Oh, uhm,” Éponine looked her right in the eye, unsure of what to say.
“We lower class peeps are lucky in a way,” Musichetta elaborated, “The school is so scummy that they never tell parents anything; including your gender. They are all about not caring. They never communicate! So tada, I’m a girl with no consequence and Marius is a boy with no consequence.”
“Huh,” Éponine cocked her head in amazement. “I feel bad though… I don’t know anything about the whole trans thing.”
Then Musichetta laughed once more and brought Éponine closer.
“You could come with us to an after school club? It’s a trans centric club but there’s some cis people there. It’s on Thursdays… So two days from now?” Marius shrugged, pretending he didn’t care about having a new friend.
Musichetta shook her head, smiling, “There’s only Cosette. But with Éponine I guess there’ll be “some” cis people! Oh, cis is the opposite of trans.”
“Oh, uh-huh,” Éponine nodded, trying to keep up.
“We’ll see you then, yeah?” Musichetta asked.
“Mhm!” She accepted the invite.
When the two dispersed, Éponine walked past a boy who was flicking through pages of yellow-paged books on the bench. She had seen this schoolboy before: easily skipping classes because the teachers couldn’t object against it due to him single-handedly raising the overall grade. Oh how jealous she was him!
As an assertion of dominance she tried to walk past him closely but when she was able to see him closer (closer than ever before) she realised that she was a girl. Oh, she had mistaken someone as the opposite sex for so long! In magnificent shock, she froze, which, let’s be honest, she had been doing a little too much already.
“Can I help you?” The ginger spoke, looking up. One of her eyes were closed due to the sun Éponine was half-blocking behind her.
“Oh, oh, no, I was just…” She looked behind her in hope to find Musichetta who seemed naturally charismatic but Éponine concluded fast that she had to be the one to bring the charisma. “I was just… I didn’t know…” She then awkwardly walked away. Well done, Éponine. Real intimidating.
Now, where were we? Oh yeah, the gender train-wreck… There were so many questions that were in her mind that flew around. She never questioned that her discomfort was related to, in any way, with her gender, rather some sort of sexism that she had to battle inside. Was there any kind of meaning behind her discomfort of her own breast and happiness when she didn’t have her period? But, it wasn’t like she was bothered by her menstruation right now…
This whole conversation opened up something in her, it seemed. A chest of years of wailing and haunting had now been unlocked. It became an actual question whether she could sleep tonight. Or if she had to wonder until the sun rose about who she was.
Of course Éponine knew about trans people. She had seen the media outcry, the laws changing, and trans flags fly across social media. But she always felt like she was the audience, watching. Sure, she had problems regarding how she saw herself but she assigned these problems with different names. Oh, she didn’t like her chest? That was dysmorphia! Cis people could have dysmorphia! She wanted to be recognised as masculine at times? That was internalised misogyny! Due to her upbringing, she was taught men were inherently better; that was why she was feeling this way! Oh, she wanted to get rid of fat on her cheeks and her arms because she looked too feminine? That was some kind of an eating disorder she was going through! It was always the explanations and never the root of the discomfort she felt.
When she lay on her bed that night, she contemplated whether she would dig into her mind to inspect the roots that she had forgotten was even growing. Although… If she were to dig them up… What would happen if her world becomes inverted? Up-side down? Inside-out? What if the colours of the world collapsed over her?
In the end, she pressed pause in the every increasing speed of her thoughts and she compromised her inner scratching of truth with her need to sleep: she dreamt of a man named Éponine.
In her fantastical dream, she hurriedly took her jumper and shirt off and inspected her chest. It was flat, like a man’s. Her jaws were sharp and wide. But she feared of what was down below. She hated the idea of having a penis. It even disgusted her.
Not knowing what to do, she wanted to snap out of her dream. Uncomfortable! Everything was so uncomfortable!
And she woke up early in the morning. Sweating, she sat up. ‘Am I a woman, then?’ She thought. ‘I’m just a woman who wants attention… I just want to be more like Marius, that was what I was doing… I’m not trans. Why did I ever think that was what I am? I’m just broken.’
That morning , on the way to school, people glancing at her, or were even scared of her. Then she began to hear her own voice in her head. Loud. They multiplied and flew towards every person she was walking past. Her voices toppled over each other, saying contrasting things. Ranging from her being perceived as a man to her being perceived as a woman to strangers’ eyes. None of the voices had positive music to it which left her feeling distorted.
At last, when she saw Marius in school, she ran up to him, calling out his name. As soon as she did so, her invasive voices were chased away by this one boy.
“Hi, Marius,” She spoke happily.
“Éponine,” He said, still finding it difficult to meet her eyes, but his smile was warm enough to know he did indeed want her by his side as they walked to school, “How was your day yesterday?”
“Great,” She lied, “How is the day today?”
“Great.” He repeated. “After I got changed today, I felt great. It’s also fun to sneak into school I’d like to think. So nobody knows about, well, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, reminds me of a spy!”
“You still coming to the club tomorrow? I told everyone there.”
She blushed, feeling the nervousness of being introduced to a group full of people she didn’t know. “How many people are there?”
Marius looked up at the clouds, counting with his fingers. “There’s…” He mouthed names to himself. “Six. Including you. So, not much.” He shrugged, “Don’t worry about it.”
There was another pause in her brain. Marius knew what she was feeling and told her not to worry about it! With those simple words, he calmed her! He calmed her feeling alienated, and how he read her mind and calmed her when she thought there would be a big crowd of people! Oh, she really did like this Marius boy!
It wasn’t like he was bored of her either! On the way back home, after meeting the quiet, feminine-presenting Marius as he walked back home, she tried to repay the favour by distracting him by talking to him loudly about many of her interests. That way at least for a handful of minutes they were walking back home together he wasn’t plagued with negative voices as she had today. Not that he had that experience; but that was what she assumed.
With silence back after she split ways with Marius, she fell down the pit of asking herself about what had just happened in the morning and what her gender was. By the time she arrived home, her pupils were wide, her jaws clenched, and she was grabbing the bottom part of her shirt in front of her so it looked flat in comparison to the natural bump her breasts provided. Her back was hunched as well.
When her mother opened the door she stared back, her eyes wide, “‘Ponine! You look like the Hunchback!”
She took that as a compliment.
As she slept that night, she had to unravel all the other explanations the past her fabricated. But… She wasn’t a man. So none of it added up. She didn’t like being a man nor was she a woman, she was sure. Was she transphobic? Could she be a man after all?
Overcome with confusion, she squeezed her eyes shut. More than anything she wished this plague would disappear. She didn’t want to constantly worry about who she was. That shit was exhausting.
The next day was merely a countdown to solving everything that swarmed her mind. Who was she? A man? A woman? A man? A woman? A man? A blob? Ahh!
Time seemed to pass for her too quickly now. Every time she yawned or spaced out there was some kind of a physic-dodging skip which teleport her to another room a few hours later. She would tap her pencil repetitively in chemistry, and boom she was already in English and two hours had passed.
It was as if her brain was taking the time to rest because it knew it would have to exhaust itself trying to understand everything from the after school club. So, while its factory was manufacturing the information sponge, the lights in her head was turned off.
When she teleported to the club and all the members were walking in casually, her brain rebooted itself, powered by new-found interest, and installed the new update of actually remembering what she is being taught. Amazing that she survived so long without that upgrade, but this wasn’t the time to question Éponine’s lack of academic pursuit.
It was quite surprising to say the least to find out who was in the club. There were Musichetta and Marius, of course, with Éponine sandwiched between them. Every time someone entered the room, she tried to bow with her eyes and show friendly vibes as well as I-belong-here vibes but instead she probably looked like she was having a seizure trying to indicate all that just with one long look.
When Cosette entered, she ran into Marius’ arm and sat on his lap. Sure, Marius still had trouble maintaining eye contact even when she flung herself at him, but his entire body language changed. He was more confident and full of energy. Cosette was bubbly and gave him electricity. It was amazing to see the boy all charged up.
Even though it hurt, she felt some kind of joy in seeing the two be perfect pieces to a puzzle. Éponine promised to herself she will soon let go of her crush on Marius.
But now was not the time to think about romance because Jehan walked through! She was the girl who skipped all the classes and was a genius. And! She was walking in hand-in-hand with the best athlete in the school. Éponine’s brain vibrated in confusion as she tried to keep her skull still. All she could do was smile robotically at them as she tried to solve equations in her head on how their dynamic worked. Nevertheless they exuded sweet strawberry aura she couldn’t deny.
“Right,” Musichetta smiled. “With all of us here, I would like to introduce you to my friend Éponine to the table.”
“Hi.” She waved awkwardly. When she turned to see what Musichetta would say ore, their noses accidentally touched and her eyes were wide with observance. Oh… She was supposed to talk more! She had to introduce herself! Éponine faced the table again, and she took a deep breath. ‘Come on, Éponine, you know yourself better than anyone. This should be a walk in the park.’ She thought. Then out came out of her mouth: “Gender, huh?”
Fuck! She gave it another go. “Me… Uh… Gender… Confused? Me not man not woman… I need… to learn how to speak properly…” She breathed in. “I heard about trans identities recently. Well, technically I knew of its existence way beforehand but something about actually knowing trans people created some kind of a shift in me. I… don’t know what I am? The whole experience was like discovering new things about my past and ‘thinking does that make me a man?’. But I’m… Not. I feel woman yet not woman enough…”
Everyone turned to Jehan as she leaned back on her chair, still holding Montparnasse’s soft hand. “Well… I’ve heard sometimes the subconscious blocks and buries things it can’t understand. It’s a protective instinct. And then I’m assuming your brain relaxed a bit, seeing people, actual people you knew, in front of you, and allowed that subconscious protection loosen a bit." She cocked her head. “It’s difficult to tell who you are as an outsider but we can definitely help you know which genders exist and let me tell you there’s more than two. On top of that there is more than just two pronouns. Learning all of this is a bit fun, isn’t it?”
It took a few seconds before Éponine realised she was given a question to work on. She was just so engrossed! What did she mean by more than two genders?
Jehan sighed. “I feel a bit lonely here; being the only non-binary. Everyone goes by one pronoun here, you see. Meanwhile I’m here, as a pink fluff, identifying as a she-they.”
‘She-they’? What did that mean? “Does that mean I have to call you she-they every time I refer to you?” Éponine innocently asked.
Musichetta gave a light chuckle and side-hugged her and Jehan continued. “No, no. It means… Well I guess it means something different to every non-binary person, but to me it means every couple of sentences, I want to be referred to a she and in other sentences I want to be considered a they. Overall I am referred to as she slash they.”
Oh. Well, that was new. Éponine definitely needed time to think about this new revelation. “So does that mean you’re a woman?”
Jehan tilted their head. “Not necessarily. I am a demigirl. I feel to a certain extent a girl, but other times I feel eh. I never found the correct words for it but I am never in a rush. I’d rather read more about Patroclus and his clear queer affections towards Achilles.”
Okay, okay, she was sort of wrapping her head around this. This meant a new door had opened up for Éponine. Rather than trying to force herself to choose whether she was a boy or a girl, there was a whole new world to explore. “I… Maybe… I’m a…?” She thought. “Maybe I’m demigirl? Ooh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m something else?”
“It’s fine to slow down, you know,” Montparnasse leaned in. “Don’t rush yourself too much.”
Cosette tightly wrapped her arms around her loving boyfriend. “Maybe you can start on pronouns?”
Marius snapped his finger. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. If you can’t figure it out today, that’s good too.”
Oh God, with all the attention on her, this was definitely diverting away from how she originally expected the gathering to go. She was never supposed to make others also want to unpick her brain. Yet the amount of care and thought they were willing to put in was also kind.
“I want an emphasis on they-them pronouns.” Éponine nodded confidently. “Is that possible?”
“Of course!” Musichetta finally separated herself from their hug, “You can go by they-them and she-her. How does that sound, huh? Fantastic I’ll say. You can also be they-them!”
Éponine thought for a while. Huh. “I think they-her fits me.”
“Yay,” Cosette clapped excitedly and Marius kissed her cheek.
“Yeah.” Éponine grinned to themself. “Yeah, that fits. Jehan you are a life-saver. I adore non-binary! That suits me. I’m happy. I’m really happy. I’m super duper happy.”
Reflecting their energy, Jehan nodded excitedly, “I’m so happy you’ve joined our group. We’re going to have so much fun discussing random things and hanging out and, most of all, be our true selves while doing it!”
That sounded heavenly, it really did. “Are you sure? I can be in this club?”
Marius tried his best to look at her in the eye, excited like a puppy. “One million percent. You belong here.”
They belonged here. They belonged here. They belonged here. Éponine’s smile was wide and bright and they echoed those words in their head. They were trans. She was non-binary. They had figured it out.