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Grantaire had been flipping through the pages of a book left in the nearest study carrel while he waited for Jehan to find the correct book for his research paper when he found it. Someone’s phone number had been written on a slip of paper and used as a bookmark of sorts. A name had been printed carefully along the top of the slip of paper, but someone had ripped it off, leaving only a squiggle of what might have been an ‘s’.
He couldn’t exactly call the number while in the library, though he would have liked to, if only for a distraction from his current state of boredom. Grantaire didn’t have a problem with the library, and Jehan had promised him this would only take a few minutes before they could go meet Bahorel at the bar, but he’d been sitting in the same place of half an hour with no sign of Jehan yet. Sighing, he dug his phone out of his pocket and decided to call the number anyway. He could be quiet, and it wasn’t as if there was anyone around.
Grantaire hadn’t really been expecting much.
“Hello?” a voice answered.
Grantaire nearly dropped his phone. There was something very familiar about the voice on the other end, but he couldn’t place it. Whether he actually had met the person or not, their voice was stunning: carefully modulated, smooth, pleasant, someone he would definitely be willing to listen to again.
“Hello?” they asked again.
Grantaire cleared his throat and realized that he had no idea what to say. “Um, hi.”
“Who is this?” they questioned, not unkindly, but rather with a genuine curiosity. “I don’t recognize your number.”
“That would make sense, considering I just found your number in a library book,” Grantaire blurted out.
There was a pause. “You found my number in a library book…and so you called the number?”
“I was curious,” he replied defensively. “There wasn’t a name with the number.”
“And so you just…called the number?” they asked again, amusement coloring their tone. “Without having any idea who would be on the other end, just because you were curious?”
“Why not? I could’ve just put it back, but what if some creep found it and called you? Really, I’m doing you a favor. Letting you know your number is in a library book for just anyone to call, and all that.”
“How do I know you’re not a creep?” Grantaire thought maybe he could hear them smile.
“You don’t. I mean, I don’t think I’m a creep,” he replied, smiling slightly.
“Oh, good. I wouldn’t have wanted a creep to call me.”
“You could have hung up by now, you know. But you haven’t.”
“Maybe I’m curious, too.”
“Do you do this often; carry on conversations with strangers that call you?”
“Strangers don’t call me. This is the first time it’s happened, besides the occasional wrong number, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Do you do this often; call numbers you find in books?”
“I haven’t found a number in a book before. I’ve seen numbers on bathroom walls but it seemed like a bad idea to call those numbers.”
“A wise decision.”
“I certainly thought so.”
“Can I ask you what library you found the book in?”
“The library at my university.”
“École Normale Supérieure?”
“Yeah, actually. How’d you know?”
“That’s my university, as well. I was just checking.”
“Oh. Yeah, that would make sense. I mean, if you go here. That would explain why your number was in a book here.”
“It would, yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“This is weird.”
“A little.”
“A lot.”
“Kind of.”
“I feel like I’ve heard your voice before. OK, now I sound like a creep.”
“No, you don’t. I was kind of thinking the same thing when you first answered the phone.”
“Really?”
“Really. It was weird.”
“There are over two thousand students on campus. What are the odds that one of the students I actually know finds my number?”
“Not very large.”
“Right. So do I know you?”
“I have no idea. I don’t even know what your name is.”
“Oh. That’s right.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s your name?”
“Tell me yours first.”
“I asked you first. The odds that I know you are slim to none.”
“You said I sounded familiar.”
“You do sound familiar.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“In a neutral way. You sound like someone I’ve heard before.”
“So do you. I mean, you have a voice I’d remember hearing, if I heard it in person, which I think I might have.”
“My name is Enjolras.”
Grantaire almost dropped his phone for the second time. “Could you repeat that? I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”
“Enjolras. My name is Enjolras.”
“That’s…what I thought you said.” He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to swear aloud.
Enjolras, who he had only met twice. Enjolras, who had the looks of an angel and a passionate disposition, who was intelligent and idealistic. Enjolras, who had glared at him and called him an ingrate, once, when Grantaire had made too many snide, cynical remarks during one of Enjolras’s speeches at the second, and apparently last (at least for him) meeting that he had attended. He was torn between wanting to go to the meetings, if only to see Enjolras, and wanting to stay away, because clearly that was what Enjolras wanted.
“Are you still there?” Enjolras asked.
“Um, yeah, I’m still here. Uh, I do know you, actually…uh, I don’t know if you actually remember me, but…I’m Grantaire,” he finally said. When Enjolras didn’t reply, he continued. “I came to two of the meetings that you and Combeferre and Courfeyrac put together on Thursdays at the café. I didn’t come to this week’s, and I’m pretty sure you’re glad I didn’t, because you called me an ingrate last week, and I called you…well, it doesn’t matter what I called you. I’m just going to hang up now, yeah?”
“Wait,” Enjolras said. “Grantaire?”
“Yeah?”
“You should come to the meeting next week.”
“What?”
“Come to the meeting next week. On Thursday, same time, same place as usual.”
“Why? I mean, not that I don’t want to come, I just thought…”
“It was nice. Having you there, at the meeting. You have a different viewpoint, and I like-I mean, we could use some opposing viewpoints in our discussions.”
“Oh.”
“So…are you going to come?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“And Grantaire?”
“Yeah?”
“You could keep my number. You know, just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Of…of whatever.”
Grantaire smiled. “Oh.” He had to be imaging things, but Enjolras had sounded ever so slightly flustered.
“And I’ll keep yours, as well. Just in case.”
“Just in case,” Grantaire agreed.
“I’ve…I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting a few friends in about fifteen minutes, so…I’ll talk to you later?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll…talk to you later.”
“Er, goodbye, then.”
“Goodbye, Enjolras.”
Grantaire smiled widely, sitting back to wait for Jehan as he programmed Enjolras’s number into his phone. He had just saved the information when he received a text from Enjolras.
Do you want to meet Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and I for coffee tonight? We’re meeting in the café in fifteen minutes to discuss topics for next week’s meeting. I’d like your input.
His smile widened. He sent off a quick text to Jehan, telling him not to wait around for him and to tell Bahorel that he’d buy him a drink the next time he saw him. Gathering his coat and bag, he sent another text to Enjolras.
Sounds good to me. See you in fifteen.
And if Enjolras smiled just as widely as Grantaire did when he received the message, well, Grantaire would never know.