Meanwhile, Courfeyrac had found Combeferre after their own classes were finished. “Combeferre!”
He turned around. “Courfeyrac, please do not shout so loudly,” he admonished his friend in a pained whisper.
“Hangover?” Courfeyrac asked quietly.
Combeferre nodded. “I should have known better than to go for a late night with Grantaire.”
Courfeyrac nodded in sympathy. Even after only knowing each other for a couple of months, every one of the Friends except Enjolras had been on a late night drinking binge with Grantaire, so all had suffered. “You got a minute?” Combeferre nodded. “Let’s go someplace dark and quiet to talk for a second.” Combeferre followed passively, being in horrendous pain. Courfeyrac pulled him into an empty classroom on the first floor, opposite the sun and additionally shaded by a tree. “That better?” he asked.
Combeferre nodded. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked in the same tortured whisper.
“What about it?”
“One, it’s being moved somewhere at 7 o’clock, because two, Mlle Feuilly will be attending.”
“And she is employed, making the meeting later, after she is dismissed. Fine. Where is it to be held?”
“I don’t know. Joly is in charge of asking Grantaire where the best place would be.”
“Ah, I see. You’ve given away responsibility again,” Combeferre accused him.
“I had class, obviously. Do you want me to get expelled? I have that goddamned Blondeau taking role this semester. I can’t miss a class to talk to Grantaire.” Courfeyrac’s voice kept rising.
“Shh! Not so loudly. I understand,” Combeferre said, holding his head between his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Courfeyrac said quietly. “Do you have something prepared for the meeting?”
“Not yet, obviously,” Combeferre said a bit testily. Then he caught himself. “I will by the meeting.”
“Do you see Prouvaire at all?”
“Yes. I have an afternoon class with him on Mondays and Wednesdays.”
“Will you let him know what’s going on?”
Courfeyrac checked his watch. “I’ve got to go. I’ll give you more information on Wednesday.”
“One second. I ordinarily see Enjolras on Tuesdays. Shall I speak to him? It would be an appropriate gesture.”
“I suppose,” Courfeyrac said reluctantly. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nursing a severe migraine.”
“I’ll come find you after I talk to Joly. You can tell Enjolras our new place and time. ’It would be an appropriate gesture,’ wouldn’t it? I’ve really got to go.”
“Courfeyrac.” Courfeyrac turned around. “Courfeyrac, thank you.” Combeferre managed a weak smile. Courfeyrac returned the smile and left Combeferre in the dark room.
Chapter 11 ~ Fiction ~ Chapter 13 ~ Home