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Cody hated parent-teacher conferences.
Not that he’d had to sit through many, thankfully. Still, the night as a whole was a rough experience, with parents either turning their noses up at his subject, or feeling like just because they or their families had intense trade experiences, they could belittle him on how he ran his classroom. The entitlement seemed to worsen the older the kids got, and that night it had been particularly vitriolic. Though the year group in question were still only sophomores, he had parents lecturing him on college admissions and job placements. If there was one thing Cody hated more than parent-teacher conferences, it was being lectured.
He did, however, enjoy teaching. Shop class was a rapidly dwindling subject, as his anxious glances at the school budget revealed. And yet it seemed to attract the most interesting, passionate array of students. Mathematical geniuses who loved putting their theoretical knowledge of geometry into practice with elaborate constructions. Quiet, focused kids who adored devoting hours of their time to one exquisite project. Artists, realists, thinkers and doers. A cacophony of kids set free from exam prep, and practice papers, being allowed to play and create.
However, not everyone thought the same.
Luckily though, whoever had planned the event managed to sit him directly opposite his twin, and the two would take turns making stupid faces at each other behind parents’ heads. Rex, teaching sports, always seemed to have a similar experience on parent-teacher night, battling either dismissive or debating parents. At least he had a few shining athletes, and hard workers, who he could praise to their adoring parents.
Looking down at his files, Cody wondered how many more parents he would have to face. He should have been relieved that not many students even bothered to sign up to his appointments, so his stack was relatively short. Still, he’d done his best to make the portfolios of their work look as presentable as possible, if only to show that he was a real teacher with at least some competent skills. It had been fun to photograph the projects too – he was particularly proud of how he had framed one student’s bookshelf project, really capturing the intricate paintwork as it shone in the light.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry! We didn’t mean to be late!” Cody was startled from his notes by a clipped British accent puffing exhaustedly in his vicinity. When he looked up from his notes, a man with cheeks as red as his mussed hair had flopped down into one of the empty seats opposite him, trying to console the howling child on his hip. The pair didn’t look like any other family Cody had seen that evening – the man did not seem to be waiting for a wife and usually the school had a no child policy for these sorts of events, especially no screaming toddlers. The parents on the table next to him managed to yank themselves out of discussions about their daughter’s sure-fire status as valedictorian for long enough to give the strange pair a dirty look. Cody’s stomach twisted as he watched them sneer at the man’s fair face, and the little girl’s darker skin, mottled through with white patches. Had they never heard of vitiligo?
“Just one more, ‘Soka, just one more.” The little girl garbled something unintelligible and the man sighed and stroked a single braid that had escaped from the twin buns that sat on top of her head. The plaiting was beautiful, but the hairstyle itself was slightly off-centre, as if the child had been moving as her hair was being styled. “I know I said we’d be finished at 7 but –“
“Hi.” Both the man and the girl silenced, turning towards him. Looking closer, he could see the pair looked quite similar; both had round faces with big blue eyes, though the girl’s nose was shorter. Yet neither of them resembled any of his students, male or female, black or white. Cody glanced down at his appointment timetable and frowned. He had only one student left on his roster, but the pair looked even less like him. “Are you here for… Anakin’s… appointment?”
“Yes, yes we are. Yes. Sorry. Hello there.” He smiled, and Cody had to take a deeper breath. He was beautiful – had been more beautiful once upon a time, before what looked like years of stress had been dumped on him. Despite his tiredness, he was surprisingly well-dressed in a neatly ironed shirt and jumper, but his jacket was very worn, especially at the elbows. His bright eyes sparkled, despite their heavy purple bags and the little lines crinkling at their edges. His mouth was lovely too but flattened into a thin grim line as he steeled himself.
“Right, what’s wrong with Anakin?” Cody was taken aback with how casually the man’s phrasing was, but his tone was almost robotic, as if he’d been forced to ask the question countless times before. He ran a head over his beard – a neat gesture that made him look older than his shaky hands betrayed. “Your colleagues have done a good job stressing his deficiencies in behaviour and attitude, but his therapist says he’s been making good progress. I’ve been taking note of his punctuality and yes, I know the school’s detention and suspension policies well enough to remind him of those when his attendance is less than desirable. We’ve been working on his reading and concentration skills at home, but given a little more time and compassion he could really-“ As he spoke, the man’s words tumbled faster out of his mouth, and Cody could see he was holding back tears, especially when the girl on his hip started to writhe. He cradled her close, and started to rock slightly. Cody remembered that wild-eyed desperation from raising his own brothers.
“Anakin’s doing great.” Cody cut the man off, and watched, as confusion and wonder softened his worried features. The child looked equally surprised, and tugged at the man’s hair, making him wince.
“Ani… Ani good?” She lisped, and her shock broke Cody’s heart. The other man’s cringe had deepened too, as he met her eye.
“Anakin is a good person, Ahsoka; he just has a lot of difficulties to work through.” He stroked a diamond shaped patch on the girl’s cheek, and turned back to Cody. “But… did… did you mean it? Forgive my suspicion but… Anakin’s not succeeded in class in years.”
“He’s succeeding with me.” Cody confirmed, cycling through his student files to find the thickest one. He was glad he’d taken the time to print the photographs in colour – the stressed man opposite deserved to see Anakin’s work in all its glory. “Always on time, homework done to the highest standard, and though he doesn’t know everything, his questions are thoughtful and way above the level I expected.”
“What do you teach?” The man whispered, as Cody handed over the file. The girl clambered off the man’s hip and settled in the empty extra chair. Both stared into the portfolio, eyes wide. The parents next to them even tried to peer over the man’s shoulder, before the girl growled and they jerked back. Stiffly, they shuffled away and Cody winked at her. The man was too devoted to the photos to look up.
“Shop class.” Cody smiled with pride at the man’s face as he flipped through pictures of beautifully crafted clocks and chairs, photo-frames and bookends. “This term we’ve been focusing on wood-work, but he’s got a real knack for the computer design side too; better than me sometimes. And the kid can fix anything.”
“I… Are you sure this is Anakin’s?” The man asked, turning the page and answering his own question. The photo-frame, Cody’s personal favourite project, was beautifully carved and painted, and straight in the middle sat a lovely photo of the man and girl in front of him, clearly a few hours after her birth. A much younger Anakin was there too, grinning at the tiny bundle in the man’s arms.
“He’s a natural.” Cody nodded, remembering how pleased the kid had been when he’d gotten his grade back for that project – Anakin had been over the moon, yet still had plenty of questions on how to improve his work. In truth, Cody hadn’t had many comments; perhaps daintier paintwork, but that had been purely an aesthetic choice. He had stressed just how excellent the work was, and saw the light shine in Anakin’s eyes. The same light now glowing in the little girl, who looked at him in wonder. The man still hadn’t looked up. “And I don’t exactly know what my colleagues have been telling you, but Anakin is always great in my classes. Chatty sometimes, but what kid his age isn’t? I would be too if I could show off that-“
Cody paused, realising the man had started to shake, hand clamped firmly over his mouth. His breath came in shudders, and a few teardrops splashed on the pages, before he carefully closed the file and placed it back on the desk for safe-keeping. The little girl looked very confused, and cuddled into his side.
“Obi?”
“I’m okay – I’m fine, really – I just – “ He hiccoughed, and blushed to the tips of his ears. Cody was thankful the other parents had slowly started to filter out of the room; he sensed this man had needed a good cry for weeks before he’d sat down to this meeting. “No-one ever has anything nice to say about Anakin. He’s been through so much, but everyone’s determined to label him as a problem child or… or… a lost cause and…” Checking that there were no more prying eyes, Cody reached under his desk and slid a box of tissues towards the man. He mouthed a thank you, before patting the tops of his cheeks gently. Damn it – how did he still look gorgeous? “Hearing that at least one other person can see how much he’s achieved is… Thank you, Mr...” He looked a little lost, peering around hopelessly for a name plate.
“Call me Cody. Everyone else does.” The stranger nodded, holding out his hand. The resulting handshake was one of the nicest Cody had ever experienced; the man’s grip was just the right amount of forceful, and his fingertips lingered pleasantly. His hand, for all the man’s neat presence, was also surprisingly callused. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Skywalker.”
“Oh, I’m not a Skywalker. The man confessed, folding the tissue neatly into thirds. “Don’t worry, though – I am his guardian; I don’t spend my free time sneaking into strangers’ parent’s evenings.” Cody liked the little lilt in his voice; it was more carefree than his face. He held out his hand. “Obi Wan Kenobi, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Anakin’s brother.”
“Brother?” Cody peered closer at his face. He’d assumed he was in his early thirties – young for a father to a fifteen-year-old but not impossible. But quite old for a sibling, even an older brother. Still, Cody wasn’t one to talk; there were a matter of minutes between him and Rex.
“From a certain point of view. Our point of view.” Obi Wan’s eyes flashed cold for a moment, and Cody could see for just a second the stern older brother Anakin had alluded to a handful of times in class. But he softened as he smiled down at the little girl, who had sneakily reopened the file and was giggling over a few of Anakin’s concept sketches. “My father had… had a rich and varied life of many countries, many women and many children. It’s easier just to think of ourselves as one big family.”
“Had?” Cody hadn’t meant to interrupt Obi Wan’s flow, but something about his expression had turned so sad again. The man sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“He died. Three years ago now.” Obi Wan glanced nervously at the little girl, but she was absolutely absorbed in tracing her fingers over Anakin’s drawings. Cody’s heart broke; she couldn’t have been much older than four. “I’ve been doing my best with them but…”
Cody was about to reach for the man’s arm, but the lights suddenly dimmed. He squinted at his watch and realised the conference was pretty much over, and Rex was stood in the corner, tapping his watch pointedly. Obi Wan looked a bit flustered as he got to his feet, but he blessed Cody with another one of those lovely smiles as he scooped a pliant toddler into his arms. She yawned, and snuggled into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry – that was all quite heavy for a short meeting. I mean, we barely talked about Anakin’s grades or -” Cody wondered if he usually apologised this much. At least now they were standing he could clap a hand to the other man’s shoulder. He was short but surprisingly solid, under the tweedy fabric of his jacket.
“Grades aren’t everything, no matter what our esteemed Principal Palpatine seems to think.” Cody winked and the man laughed gently. It was a sweet sound, but seemed roughened by lack of practice. “Anakin’s a good kid. I need more like him in my classroom.”
Obi Wan thanked him softly and settled Ahsoka on his hip before turning to leave, mouthing an apology to Rex as he passed. But before he exited completely, he turned back, and flicked his eyes up and down Cody’s body. It sent a pleasant shiver through him; however out of practice Kenobi was, he still had a knack for flirtation.
“Cody.” He repeated, and it sounded so special on his tongue, like he was rolling a particularly delicious sweet around his mouth. He smiled, and Cody noticed a pretty little dimple in one of his cheeks. “You sound Australian, but that’s a rather Irish name, is it not?”
“New Zealand, but close enough.” Cody chuckled. “You English? Irish?”
“A particularly well-spoken Scot, though our father was from Belfast.” He paused, and looked at Cody squarely, head dipped just low enough to show off his delicate cheekbones and lovely eyes. As he turned once more, he gave a little laugh – a proper one this time. “I’ll be seeing you again, Mr Cody.”
“I do hope so, sir. I do hope so.”