Chapter Text
“What are you working on?”
“Nothing, really.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing, it looks like a novel.”
Finn and Rey were sitting outside in the courtyard during lunch, Rey rooting through her purse while Finn wrote lazily in a notebook, cheek resting in his palm. What had started out as a somewhat decent poem had slowly devolved into the repetition of meaningless thoughts and sentences: “Rey is wearing grey today,” “Someone is selling weed in the parking lot and they’re definitely not being obvious about it all,” “Mr. Solo and Principal Organa were definitely arguing in her office this morning.” Rey arched an eyebrow inquisitively, trying to peer over and catch a glimpse of his writing. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she was wearing one of Finn’s hoodies that made her look even smaller than she actually was over a grey long sleeve t-shirt and black jeans. She rolled her eyes and sat back down, pulling a package of fruit snacks from her purse and tearing it open with her teeth. “Do you write that badly on purpose?”
“My handwriting isn't that bad,” Finn said defensively, looking up at Rey before quickly snapping his notebook shut and stuffing his pen into his pocket. Rey smirked, shrugging as she popped a gummy strawberry into her mouth, then glanced over Finn’s shoulder and made a small sound of disgust. “It must be twelve fifteen, here they come,” she muttered, producing her phone from her pocket before pushing the sleeves of the hoodie up to her elbows. Finn threw a brief glance over his shoulder before dropping his head into his hands.
It was the lacrosse team- or rather, only a few members of them who usually went to practice during lunch. There was Karé Kun, the junior varsity captain, her long sunny blond hair falling in waves down her back; Iolo Aran, who trailed behind the group shouldering three different gym bags; Jessika Pava, who walked alongside Karé, twisting her hair into a messy braid, and-
Poe Dameron. The captain of the varsity lacrosse team, Poe was a senior, but looked like he was a junior in college. He had dark curly hair that he had pushed back with a headband today, and hazel eyes that looked golden in the sunlight. He was wearing a dark orange shirt that bore the words “D’Qar Rebels Lacrosse” and a pair of crossed lacrosse sticks, a pair of worn blue jeans with a hole in one knee, and his varsity jacket. He must’ve just told a joke, because he was laughing loudly, eyes squinting as he clapped Karé on the shoulder, who did not look amused. Once he came into view, Finn quickly looked down at his notebook, trying to distract himself. Rey noticed this, and kicked his knee under the table.
“Ow, what was that for?” Finn said, pulling his leg up onto the bench to rub at his knee. Rey smirked, looking over at the group to see Poe had looked over at the two of them briefly before going on his way. Finn blushed, dropping his head onto the table with a thud. “You’re not good at being subtle,” Rey said with a laugh, finishing off the fruit snacks before crumpling the package in her hand and stuffing it into her purse.
“You’re the worst.” Finn said, voice muffled from having his face tucked into his arm. Rey laughed and reached over the table to pat Finn’s shoulder. “He’s pretty nice, actually,” Rey said, throwing the strap of her purse over herself and swinging her legs over the bench to stand up. “Remember that semester he was my lab partner? He was always cracking jokes, we never got any work done.”
“Yeah, I remember, you used my homework almost every day.”
“I mean, he talks about lacrosse a lot, but other than that, he’s pretty tolerable.”
“I don’t see how that’s supposed to help me.”
Rey nudged him with her elbow and giggled as they headed back inside, the noise of people leaving the cafeteria almost deafening. The two weaved carefully through the crowd, Finn nearly knocking over a handful of freshmen by accident.
“Hey, I’ve got a fencing match after school today, you’re coming right?” Rey asked once they reached her locker.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Finn asked, leaning against the wall and thumbing through his notebook again.
“I don’t know, maybe you wanted to spend the afternoon making googly eyes at Poe Dameron,” she said the name in a light sing song voice, throwing her head back and clapping a hand over her heart. “Doesn’t the lacrosse team have practice on Wednesdays?”
“I mean, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m- would you shut up?”
“You wouldn’t have their practice schedule memorized unless you’d gone to many, many, many of them before.”
“I’ve been to two, okay? You know, you get on my case about him a lot, but you’re hardly innocent.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Rey said, shooting a look at Finn as she pulled a book from her locker and slammed it shut. Finn crossed his arms, a smile coming to his face. “Remember last year when we went to one lacrosse match? Jessika Pava bumped into you on accident and you looked like a deer in headlights when she smiled at you-”
Rey’s face flushed, and she delivered a hard punch into Finn’s shoulder, who yelped and reached up to grab at the newly forming bruise under his shirt. Rey turned on her heel and headed down the hallway, and Finn quickly gathered himself and chased after her.
The rest of the day was like any other- fairly uneventful, Rey took a nap in sixth period, and Finn spent most of his time scratching down half-finished stanzas. Rey wasn’t in Finn’s last class of the day, Mr. Solo’s history class, which left him in the back of the room with only his notebook for company. Mr. Solo was an older teacher, he’d been at the school longer than most of the other teachers there, and he hated his job (or at least, that’s what he made it seem like.) He and Principal Organa were married, and they usually were not able to keep their marital spats out of the school- if you couldn’t find Mr. Solo in his classroom, chances were he was in Principal Organa’s office getting yelled at. No one could blame the two of them for arguing, though, considering their son Ben (who had taken up the moniker Kylo Ren and no one knew or understood why) had gotten in several fights, one of them ending in an expulsion, leaving Mr. Solo and Principal Organa no choice but to send him to another school. It was embarassing for the school, yes, but more so for the two educators- why they fought so often was obvious.
Mr. Solo had started to take attendance, then the phone on his desk rang. He looked at the number then simply groaned loudly, picked up the receiver then slammed it down again, then picked up a piece of chalk to scribble a set of page numbers on the board before storming out of the room. Everyone laughed lightly for a moment before pulling out cell phones and moving the desks around. Finn turned his chair to sit with his back against the wall, crossing his legs as he tapped the end of his pen against his notebook, only a few words he liked staring back at him amongst a sea of black, scribbled out phrases. He glanced up as he heard running footsteps slide into the room.
It was Poe, glancing around the room briefly before going up to someone’s desk and muttering something- probably asking if Mr. Solo had taken attendance yet. He smirked and nodded to himself briefly once he got his answer, then found a seat, only one desk away from Finn. Finn tensed slightly and looked back at his notebook, flipping to a blank page and trying to appear as though he was doing something. He managed to distract himself for a few solid moments, writing down a few lines before-
“Hey, can I borrow a pencil?”
Finn looked up, seeing Poe leaning over his desk. His hair was no longer pulled back but did shine lightly with sweat, curling up over his forehead. He had abandoned his jacket, and Finn could see it hanging over the back of his chair. He had a folder tucked underneath his arm, overflowing with sheets of paper. Finn blinked, then fumbled around in his pocket before pulling out another pen. “Sorry, I only use pens.”
“Eh, good enough,” Poe said with a shrug, taking the pen from between his fingers. Finn swallowed as Poe stretched his leg behind him, hooking his foot around the leg of his chair and pulling it over. “Thanks, buddy.” He said with a smirk, sitting down and setting the folder on the desk in front of him. Finn tried to discreetly watch what he was doing- from the folder he produced a lined piece of paper dotted with marks, a closer look and Finn found it to be sheet music. Poe began to tap his foot softly, murmuring something under his breath as he scribbled something else down. Finn quickly looked away and back at his own notebook, and he leaned back in his chair as he racked his brain for how to continue his poem.
Mr. Solo returned about halfway through the class, barking something about getting out textbooks, and then, when no one did so and looked up at him like he was crazy, muttering about why hasn’t he retired yet. He sat down at his desk and the class began to talk again, save Poe and Finn, who remained silent through the storm as they wrote.
Once class ended, Poe stood up and twisted his torso around to crack his back, then picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah,” he said softly, turning back to Finn, who had just shut his notebook and slid it under his arm. Poe smiled softly, holding the pen back out to Finn. “Thanks again.” Finn blinked, then laughed awkwardly, shrugging.
“Keep it, I’ve got plenty.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t want you to need a pen and not have one again.”
Poe stood a moment then smiled again, hooking the pen onto the folder that contained his music. “Well, thanks.”
“No problem.”
“It’s Finn, right?”
Finn’s mouth dropped open slightly before he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it’s Finn.”
“Thanks, Finn.”
And Poe smirked, the folder disappearing beneath his arm before he quickly left the room. Finn stood still for a moment, just thinking, before leaving himself to go and find Rey.
///
“You doin’ alright, Dameron?”
“What? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look like you’re in the clouds.”
Poe was sitting on the bench on the sideline of the lacrosse field, his helmet in his hands and his stick in the grass. Karé was in front of him, one gloved hand on her hip and her stick over held behind her shoulder. She was arching an eyebrow at him, and her head tilted slightly at his response. “Come on, we’ve got a game on Friday.
Poe thought for another moment before he nodded and got to his feet, placing his helmet onto his head and retrieving his stick from the ground. They ran through a few plays they knew would work against the team they were against that Friday, then worked on a few new ones, but Poe wasn’t in it for some reason. He let slip several scores he could have easily stopped, and Karé and Jessika both checked his shoulders seven times collectively. Even some of the younger players got passed him. They called practice early, and Poe found himself lingering behind everyone else as they made their way back to the school locker rooms.
After he’d stuffed his pads and practice uniform back into his bag and took a shower, Poe was met by Jessika at the door to the locker room. She was leaning one shoulder into the wall, and had changed into a pair of torn sweats and a school t-shirt, her patched and buttoned backpack hanging off one shoulder. . Her arms were crossed, and she was wearing a perplexed expression. “Somethin’ wrong, Testor?” He asked, adjusting the strap of his bag before making his way toward the gym doors.
“There’s nothing wrong with me, captain,” Jessika said, quickly catching up and walking by his side. “Seemed like something was wrong with you, though.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’ve never seen you play like that.”
Poe thought about it, pursing his lips before shrugging. “I’m probably just tired. Everyone has off days.”
“I’ve never seen Poe Dameron have an off day.”
Poe shrugged again, digging through his pocket for his car keys. “You need a ride?” He glanced over at Jessika, who was arching an eyebrow at him before sighing. “Actually, yeah. Flat tire.”
Poe parked in the same spot every day. It started out as a happy accident- two years ago, he got to school fairly early so he could get in some quiet playing time in the band room, and he was able to park close to the doors. The week he started parking there, there was a band concert that coming Thursday, so he’d come in early to rehearse on his own time, and by Friday, the parking spot had just stuck.
Everyone could recognize Poe’s car, too. It was an old, beat up hatchback that he’d had painted black and orange, the bumper covered in stickers bearing the logos of college lacrosse teams. Having inherited the car when his mother passed away, he also inherited the stickers she had placed on it, including old presidential campaign stickers, as well as ones that said things like “Remember Your Humanity” and “Peace Through Music.” The bumper, in fact, was the only part of the car that was original from when his mother first had it, as the front end had been totaled in the car accident that killed her. Poe’s father had been nervous about giving him the car, although Kes Dameron knew very well that it wasn’t necessarily the car that killed his wife Shara Bey. Poe had been persistent, however, constantly pestering him about how he’s always loved that car, and there was no point in letting it just sit and rust in the driveway covered by a sheet (Kes had no intention of selling it due to its sentimental value, although he also had no intention of driving it or letting it be driven again.) Poe took immense care of the car once his father finally agreed to let him have it, and could often be found either underneath it in or working under the hood in his driveway over the summer. It ran alright, but it was still an old car, meaning that Poe often had good reason to work on it.
While the outside of the car was recognizable, the inside was even more so. The back seat was littered with sweatshirts and empty water bottles, along with paper bags from various fast food joints. It also often smelled like a combination of sweaty lacrosse gear and his dog Baby, a corgi whom he and others affectionately referred to as BB-8, as he had adopted her when he was eight years old, approximately two years before his mother died. Often times, after long days, Poe would go out for long drives with BB-8 in the passenger seat, her head out the window while she barked excitedly and ran from the passenger seat to the back seat to Poe’s lap. Everyone on the lacrosse team knew BB-8 well, Poe having brought her to many weekend practices, and BB-8 absolutely thrived on the attention, but when Poe wasn’t working on his car or on the lacrosse field, he was most likely strumming mindlessly at the strings of his guitar with BB-8 sleeping in his lap.
Poe threw his bag into the back seat of the car before clambering into the driver’s side, sticking his keys in the ignition as Jessika opened the passenger side door. “What were you thinking about during practice?” She asked as she pulled on her seatbelt and Poe pulled out of the parking space. Poe shrugged, leaning back comfortably in the seat as he made his way out of the school parking lot. “I don’t know. Stuff.”
“What kind of stuff got you so distracted?”
“Jess, I don’t know. I’m telling you, it’s just an off day.”
“Huh.” Jessika remarked doubtfully, crossing her arms and turning her attention out her window.
“What do you mean, ‘huh?’” He asked, glancing over at her out of the corner of his eye.
“I don’t know,” she said mockingly, smirking slightly as she looked back over at him. Poe chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “I’m just thinking, I guess.”
“You’re not one to do that.”
“That’s not very nice.”
Jessika snorted, then reached out to fumble with the radio. “It still doesn’t work,” Poe said, reaching over briefly to hit play on the cassette player. Jessika rolled her eyes. “I always forget how much you love crappy seventies music.”
“Crappy? This was my mom’s music- this was her car, if you don’t like my music you can walk home.”
Jessika held her palms up in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I forget that, too.”
Poe just shook his head fondly, moving his hand to turn up the music as Jessika leaned against the window.
It took about fifteen minutes to take Jessika home, and another twenty to get back to Poe’s house. He yawned when he walked in, backpack on one shoulder and lacrosse bag on the other, and he heard the clicking of BB-8’s feet on the hardwood floor as he shut the front door. “Hey, buddy,” he said in a light voice, kneeling down as BB-8 approached him, scratching her behind the ears. She barked happily, flopping onto her back with her tongue lolling out of her mouth. Poe laughed as he rubbed her belly, then scratched beneath her chin. He stood back up, toeing his once white shoes off his feet before heading down the hall toward the kitchen.
His father was at the stove, glasses slipping off the end of his nose and the sleeves of his work shirt pushed up to his elbows. He glanced up from the pot he was stirring and smiled at Poe. “Hey, how was practice?”
Poe shrugged one shoulder, careful to not let his bag slip to the floor. “S’alright.”
“You hungry? I’m making your granddad’s chayote.”
Poe grinned, dropping his bags to the floor before pulling up a seat at the small kitchen table. “What’s the occasion? Mom and grandpa would always make chayote and rice when they had good news.”
“No occasion,” Kes said with a shrug, stirring slowly. “Had a craving. I went grocery shopping after I got back from work. I know it’s your favorite, too.”
Poe hummed softly, folding his hands on top of the table with another yawn. He heard BB-8 run through the hall and into the kitchen, skidding to a stop beside Poe’s chair. Poe reached down as she sat down, patting her on the head and rubbing her ear. Kes finished with the pot, and Poe stood to retrieve bowls. They ate in comfortable silence.
“You’re quiet today.”
“You think?”
“Usually, you’re talking a mile a minute. ‘Specially on Wednesdays. You always have something to say about the freshmen on the lacrosse team.”
Poe laughed, taking another bite from his bowl. “I don’t know. I’m real tired for some reason.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t stay up until one in the morning fussing with your guitar.”
“Did I wake you up?”
“No, you kept me up,” Kes laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he took a bite, then before took a drink from his glass of water. “What’s on your mind, buddy?”
Poe shrugged again, leaning back in his chair as he stirred the contents of his bowl lazily. “I don’t know.”
“Well, if you find out, let me know.”
“You got it.”
They finished eating, Poe before Kes, and Poe did the dishes, humming softly to himself as he did so. Kes clapped him on the shoulder once he was finished, then Poe left the kitchen, grabbing his bags and heading to his room.
The walls were decorated with lacrosse posters, as well as newspaper clippings of articles about games he’d played in, posters of his favorite bands, a handful of pictures of the lacrosse team. Propped against the wall was his guitar, a bruised and battered thing covered in stickers and scratches, but he would never replace it. He dropped his bags down by his closet and slipped off his jacket, then retrieved his music folder from his backpack before sitting on his bed. He heard BB-8 approaching, and began to pat a spot on the bed without even looking up. She ran in and jumped up, quickly settling down beside him and placing her head in his lap. He smiled and went to open the folder, then found it sticking together. His brow furrowed and he flipped the folder over, seeing a pen holding the two halves of the folder together. He swallowed. Oh, yeah. He removed the pen from the folder, twirling it between his fingers for a moment.
He didn’t know Finn well. He’d seen him around before, he was often in the library with that Rey girl; he rarely came to games, but he remembered seeing him at least once in the stands. He was quiet, they didn’t talk- in fact, Poe could not recall a time he saw Finn talking to someone other than Rey. He had glanced over at him a few times during Mr. Solo’s class, seeing him furiously writing something, and found himself wondering what he was writing. He also noticed how soft his sweater had looked- it was burgundy, wool, and he had been wearing it over a burnt orange button down. The colors complimented him well. Poe bit the pen cap for a moment before ultimately closing his music folder and tossing it onto his bedside table, along with the pen, and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He scrolled through his music briefly before finally deciding on a song, then lying back on the bed and resting the phone on his chest. BB-8 whined softly, moving to rest her head on Poe’s hip; Poe scratched underneath her collar gently. He sighed and closed his eyes.
He fell asleep with the lights still on.