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Chapter Text

Ben Solo took another bite of his turkey sandwich, savoring the rare moment of peace in the crowded cafeteria. The noise of chattering students and clattering lunch trays created a familiar backdrop as he sat at his usual table by the windows.

That peace didn't last long.

"Well, well, well," came a familiar voice as Phasma dropped into the seat beside him, her elbow immediately finding his ribs in a playful jab. "Guess what I heard from a little birdie?"

Ben raised an eyebrow at his friend, continuing to chew as he waited for whatever gossip she was dying to share. Across from them, Hux looked up from his fruit punch with mild interest.

"Word is," Phasma continued with a mischievous grin, "that a certain freshman has developed quite the crush on our dear Ben here."

Hux snorted so hard he nearly spat his drink across the table. "No way, really? Solo has a crush?" He burst into laughter, clearly delighted by this revelation.

Phasma joined in, her own laughter drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. "Oh, so cute. Someone who has a crush on him."

"No way Who?!" Hux wheezed, wiping his eyes.

"See? Look over there," Phasma said, pointing toward a table near the far wall. "That little dork right there."

Both Ben and Hux turned to follow her gesture. Hux immediately burst into fresh peals of laughter. "Oh yeah, definitely your type, Solo!"

Ben's gaze landed on a petite fourteen-year-old girl sitting alone at the distant table. She was tiny, probably barely reaching his shoulder if they stood side by side. Her face still carried the awkward marks of adolescence with a scattering of acne across her cheeks, and her hair was pulled back in a messy three-bun style that looked like she'd done it in a hurry that morning.

As if sensing his attention, the girl looked up and caught him staring. Her face immediately lit up with a shy but radiant smile, the overhead fluorescent lights catching the metal of her braces and sending a brief glint in his direction.

Ben quickly looked away, scowling at his friends. "You guys are jerks."

When he glanced back despite himself, the girl was giving him a small, tentative wave. Something about the gesture was so earnest and hopeful that it made his chest feel tight.

"Oh, come on, Solo," Phasma teased, nudging him again. "She's kinda cute... in a puppy way."

"Maybe you'll finally have a girlfriend," Hux snickered, clearly enjoying Ben's discomfort.

"Shut up," Ben muttered, determinedly focusing on his sandwich and trying to ignore the way his friends' laughter seemed to echo around him. He took another large bite, hoping they'd get bored and move on to torturing someone else.

But he couldn't quite resist one more quick glance toward that far table, where the girl was now pretending to read while stealing glances in his direction.

The collision happened so fast that Ben barely had time to register what was occurring. One moment he was hurrying down the crowded hallway, focused on getting to his next class, and the next he was bumping into someone much smaller than him.

A notebook went flying, papers scattering across the linoleum floor like confetti.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" Ben immediately dropped to his knees, frantically gathering the loose sheets. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I—"

He froze mid-sentence when he looked up and found himself face-to-face with familiar brown eyes behind that shy smile. It was her. The freshman from the cafeteria. The one Phasma claimed had a crush on him.

She had dropped down beside him, her cheeks flushed as she reached for her scattered papers. "It's okay, really," she said softly, and when she smiled, those braces caught the hallway lights again. "Thank you for helping me pick everything up."

"No, no, it was my fault," Ben insisted, his hands fumbling with the papers as he tried not to stare at her. "I wasn't paying attention."

They both stood up awkwardly, and Ben watched as she hugged her rescued notebooks tightly to her chest. For a moment, they just stood there in the middle of the bustling hallway, students flowing around them like water around stones.

Then she stuck out her small hand with a tentative smile. "I'm Rey."

Ben looked down at her outstretched hand, then back at her face. After a beat of hesitation, he reached out and shook it. Her hand was tiny in his. "Um, I'm Ben."

Her smile widened, braces glinting. "I know."

The simple statement made Ben's stomach do an odd little flip. He felt suddenly awkward and nervous in a way he couldn't quite explain. "Uhh... have a nice day, then?"

It came out more like a question than a statement, and he immediately felt stupid for it. Without waiting for a response, he stepped around her and continued down the hallway, his pace a little faster than before.

"You too, Ben!" she called after him, her voice bright and cheerful.

He focused on reaching his next classroom, determined to put the encounter out of his mind.

"Dude," Hux commented as Ben slumped into his seat in AP History. "What's wrong with you?"

Ben ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to look nonchalant. "Nothing. Just tired."

"Uh-huh." Hux didn't look convinced, but before he could press further, Phasma slid into the seat behind them, leaning forward with that predatory smile that meant trouble.

"So," she said, her voice low enough that Mrs. Holdo wouldn't hear from the front of the classroom, "I heard through the grapevine that a certain someone had a hallway encounter with our little freshman friend."

Ben's head snapped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. "How do you already know about that?"

"Mitaka from my gym class saw the whole thing," Phasma grinned triumphantly. "Said you looked like a deer in headlights when you realized who she was."

"I did not—"

"Oh, this is rich," Hux whispered, trying to contain his laughter. "What happened? Did she ask you to prom?"

"We literally just bumped into each other," Ben hissed, his cheeks burning. "I helped her pick up her stuff. That's it."

"And?" Phasma prompted, clearly expecting more details.

"And nothing! She said her name was Rey, I said mine was Ben, and that was the end of it."

"She already knew your name though, didn't she?" Phasma's grin widened. "Mitaka said she lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw you."

Ben groaned and put his head down on his desk. "I hate you both."

"Come on, Solo," Hux nudged him with his elbow. "You have to admit it's kind of sweet. When's the last time anyone had a crush on your grumpy ass?"

"She's fourteen," Ben mumbled into his arms.

"So? You're sixteen. It's not like you're ancient," Phasma pointed out.

Before Ben could respond, Mrs. Holdo's voice cut through the classroom chatter. "If everyone's done discussing their social lives, perhaps we could focus on the French Revolution?"

Ben sat up straight, grateful for the interruption.

Meanwhile, three hallways away in the Biology Lab, Rey was having her own crisis of confidence.

"You actually talked to him?" Rose whispered incredulously, leaning across the lab table as they pretended to examine their microscope slides. "To Ben ? The Ben Solo you’ve been crushing on since last year?"

Rey's cheeks flushed pink as she adjusted the microscope focus for the third time. "He ran into me. Literally. It wasn't like I planned it or anything."

"But you talked to him," her friend Finn pressed from the station behind them, having clearly been eavesdropping despite Mr. Skywalker's repeated warnings about staying focused on their cell samples.

"We exchanged names," Rey said quietly, glancing around to make sure their teacher wasn't listening. "That's hardly a conversation."

"He knows your name now," Rose pointed out with a grin. "That's progress!"

Rey groaned softly, hiding her face behind her hands. "This is so embarrassing. What if he thinks I'm some weird stalker? What if someone told him about..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"About your massive crush on him?" Finn supplied helpfully, earning himself a murderous glare from Rey.

"Keep your voice down!" she hissed, looking around frantically.

"Rey, relax," Rose said gently, reaching over to pat her friend's arm. "You're overthinking this. He helped you pick up your stuff, right? That means he's nice. Nice guys don't think badly of people for being friendly."

"But I'm just a freshman," Rey mumbled, slumping over her microscope. "He probably sees me as some little kid with braces and acne."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit," Rose said loyally. "You're smart, you're funny, and once those braces come off, you're going to be gorgeous. Trust me."

Rey peeked up at her friends through her fingers. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Rose said firmly. "Besides, my sister dated a senior when she was a freshman."

"That's different," Rey protested. "Your sister looks like she could be in college. I look like I'm twelve."

Before her friends could reassure her further, Mr. Skywalker's voice echoed across the classroom. "Miss Kenobi, Mr. Storm, Miss Tico, I trust those cells are absolutely fascinating, but perhaps you could share your observations with the rest of the class?"

Rey's face burned as she quickly turned back to her microscope.

The next day at lunch, Ben was determined to sit with his back to the cafeteria so he wouldn't be tempted to look for Rey. Unfortunately, Phasma had other plans.

"Oh no you don't," she said, grabbing his arm and steering him to their usual table with a clear view of the entire lunchroom. "I want to see this legendary freshman crush in action."

"There's nothing to see," Ben muttered, but he found himself scanning the room anyway. "She's probably not even—"

"There!" Hux pointed with his fork. "Little miss braces, three bun hair, sitting alone again. God, she really is tiny."

Ben's eyes followed Hux's gesture despite himself. Rey was indeed sitting alone at the same table as yesterday, picking at what looked like a peanut butter sandwich. She seemed to be reading a book propped up against her water bottle.

"She's always by herself," Phasma observed with something that might have been sympathy. "That's kind of sad, actually."

"Maybe she likes being alone," Ben said, though he wasn't sure why he felt the need to defend her.

"Or maybe she's too shy to make friends," Hux suggested. "Freshman year is rough."

As if she could sense them watching, Rey looked up from her book. Her eyes immediately found Ben's across the crowded cafeteria, and that familiar bright smile spread across her face. She gave him a small wave before quickly looking back down at her book, her cheeks visibly pink even from this distance.

"Aww," Phasma cooed. "That's actually really cute."

"She's going to give herself whiplash with how fast she looked away," Hux chuckled, but not unkindly.

"You should go talk to her," Phasma said suddenly.

"What?" Ben nearly choked on his sandwich. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why not? She's obviously interested, and you keep staring at her."

"I'm not staring," Ben protested, even though he absolutely had been staring.

"Come on, Solo," Hux grinned. "What's the worst that could happen? She already likes you. This is like shooting fish in a barrel."

Ben glanced back at Rey, who was now determinedly focused on her book but stealing glances in his direction every few seconds.

"She's just a kid," he said again.

"So talk to her like a kid then, because guess what? YOU are also a kid," Phasma shrugged. "Be friendly. Maybe she just needs someone to be nice to her."

Ben stared at his half-eaten sandwich, torn between the desire to march over there and the equally strong urge to pretend this whole situation wasn't happening.

The library was supposed to be Ben's sanctuary. It was quiet, peaceful, and most importantly, free of gossiping friends and their unwanted opinions about his alleged lack of a dating life. He'd claimed a corner table in the back section, surrounded by dusty history books and the comforting smell of old paper.

He was three chapters into his AP History reading when he heard it—a soft thud followed by a whispered "oh no, no, no."

Ben looked up to see Rey crouched beside one of the tall stacks, frantically gathering books that had apparently toppled from her arms. She was wearing a oversized sweater that made her look even smaller than usual, and her hair was in a single messy bun today instead of the three-bun style.

Ben just watched her. She was trying to balance too many books at once, her small arms clearly struggling with the load. Every time she got a few books stacked, another would slip and threaten to fall.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Ben found himself standing and walking over.

"Need some help?" he asked quietly, not wanting to startle her.

Rey looked up, and her face immediately lit up with that radiant smile. "Ben! I mean—hi. I didn't know you came to the library."

"Research paper," he said simply, crouching down to help gather the scattered books. "What's all this for?"

"Oh, um," Rey's cheeks flushed as she tried to juggle the books. "I'm reading ahead in my English class. And I needed some books for my history report. And there were these really interesting books about astronomy that I wanted to check out, and—" She stopped herself, looking embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

Ben glanced at the titles in his hands. Advanced Astrophysics, Introduction to Stellar Evolution, The History of the Roman Empire, Pride and Prejudice. "This is quite a range," he said, genuinely impressed.

"I like learning about everything," Rey said softly, as if it were something to be ashamed of. "I know it's weird."

"It's not weird," Ben said, "It's actually pretty cool."

Rey's smile could have powered the entire school. "Really?"

"Really." Ben helped her organize the books into a more manageable stack. "Though you might want to make two trips. This is a lot to carry."

"I can manage," Rey said quickly, clearly not wanting to be a bother.

Ben watched as she tried to balance the towering stack of books, her small frame swaying slightly under the weight. Without thinking, he reached out and took half the stack from her arms.

"I'll help you to the checkout desk," he said.

"You don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to."

They walked in comfortable silence toward the front of the library, Rey stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. At the checkout desk, Ben waited while Rey fumbled with her library card, her hands shaking slightly from nerves.

"Thank you," she said quietly once her books were checked out. "For helping, I mean. Again."

"No problem." Ben hesitated, then asked, "Do you always check out this many books?"

Rey nodded, hugging her stack to her chest. "I read really fast. And I like having options in case I finish early."

Something about the way she said it made Ben think she spent a lot of time alone with her books. "Well," he said, "see you around, Rey."

"See you around, Ben," she echoed, that shy smile never leaving her face.

As Ben walked back to his table he starts to think, Huh.. she was smart, genuinely curious about the world, and despite her shyness, there was something almost... magnetic about her enthusiasm.

He tried to focus on his history reading, but found himself glancing toward the front of the library where Rey had settled at a table with her mountain of books, already completely absorbed in whatever she was reading.

Maybe Phasma was right. She is… kinda cute…

Chapter Text

The cafeteria incident happened on a Wednesday during the lunch rush. Ben was sitting with Phasma and Hux at their usual table when the commotion started near the back corner where Rey typically sat alone with her books.

Three freshman boys had surrounded her table, their voices carrying across the noisy cafeteria with cruel clarity.

"Hey, acne face!" one of them called out, leaning over Rey's shoulder as she tried to ignore them and continue reading. "We're talking to you!"

"What's with all the books, bookworm?" another one sneered. "Don't you know how to have fun?"

Rey kept her eyes firmly on her book, her jaw set in a way that Ben recognized as barely controlled anger. She was gripping her sandwich so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

"Look at her, just sitting there reading like some kind of robot," the third boy laughed. "Bet she doesn't even have any friends."

Ben felt his own hands clench into fists. Rey was doing her best to ignore them, turning a page with deliberate calm, but Ben could see the tension in her shoulders from across the room. Her face was flushed, whether from embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell.

"This is getting ugly," Phasma muttered, watching the scene unfold.

"Someone should do something," Hux said, though he made no move to get up.

The harassment continued for another few seconds until one of the boys apparently got tired of being ignored. He reached out and snatched the book right out of Rey's hands.

"Pay attention to us when we're talking to you!" he demanded, holding the book above his head.

That was Rey's breaking point.

Ben watched in stunned amazement as the tiny freshman girl grabbed her lunch tray and hurled it directly at the boy's face. Mashed potatoes and gravy splattered across his shocked expression, and the cafeteria erupted in gasps and laughter.

"Give me back my book!" Rey snarled, launching herself forward to snatch it from his gravy-covered hands.

The boy was too stunned to resist, and Rey managed to grab her book before spinning around and bolting from the cafeteria, her face blazing red with anger.

The three boys stood there dripping with food, looking around at the crowd of students who were now laughing at them instead of Rey.

"Holy shit," Phasma breathed. "Did tiny Rey just assault someone with cafeteria food?"

"That was actually kind of badass," Hux admitted, looking impressed despite himself.

Ben couldn't speak. He was staring at the spot where Rey had been sitting, where her abandoned backpack still sat beside an overturned chair. Something hot and protective had flared up in his chest the moment those idiots started taunting her, and seeing her fight back had only intensified the feeling.

"Those guys are assholes," he said finally, his voice rough with anger he was trying to contain.

"Yeah, but she handled it," Phasma said, though her tone suggested she was equally pissed off. "Girl's got more fight in her than I thought."

Ben was already standing before he'd consciously made the decision to move. "I'll be right back."

He ignored his friends' questions and headed toward Rey's abandoned table, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. If she'd run off without it, she'd need it for her afternoon classes.

Now he just had to find her.

Ben checked the obvious places first—the library, the computer lab, the quiet hallway near the art rooms. No sign of Rey anywhere. He was starting to worry that she'd left school entirely when he remembered the small courtyard behind the science building that most students forgot existed.

Sure enough, he found her there.

Rey was sitting on a concrete bench with her back to the building, her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her arms. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, and Ben could hear the quiet sounds of crying even from several feet away.

For a moment, he hesitated. He'd never been good at comforting people, and he wasn't sure what to say to a crying freshman girl. But seeing her there, so small and alone, made his chest ache in a way he didn't fully understand.

"Rey?" he called softly.

Her head snapped up, and Ben could see that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. There were still angry red marks on her cheeks where tears had mixed with her embarrassment.

"Ben?" She quickly wiped at her face with her sleeve, trying to compose herself. "What are you doing here?"

"You forgot this," he said, holding up her backpack. "Thought you might need it for your afternoon classes."

Rey stared at him for a long moment, as if she couldn't quite believe he was there. "You came looking for me?"

"Yeah." Ben moved closer, sitting down on the bench beside her but leaving plenty of space between them. "You okay?"

Rey let out a shaky laugh that was half sob. "Do I look okay?"

"You look like someone who just threw mashed potatoes at a jerk who deserved it," Ben said, and was rewarded with a small, watery smile.

"I can't believe I did that," Rey said, shaking her head. "I'm going to get in so much trouble. My Aunt is going to kill me."

"Those guys were harassing you," Ben said firmly. "You were defending yourself."

"They were just being stupid boys," Rey mumbled, but her voice lacked conviction.

"No, they were being bullies." Ben's voice was harder than he intended. "There's a difference."

Rey glanced at him sideways, something like surprise flickering across her face. "You saw the whole thing?"

"My table has a pretty good view," Ben admitted. "I wanted to come over and tell them to back off, but you handled it before I could."

"I shouldn't have lost my temper," Rey said quietly. "I just... I hate it when people grab my things. And they kept calling me names, and I was already having a bad day, and—" She stopped herself, looking embarrassed.

"Hey," Ben said gently. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Rey looked at him again, and Ben could see something shift in her expression. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

The question caught him off guard. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're Ben Solo. You're popular and cool and you could be sitting with your friends right now, but instead you're here with the weird freshman girl who just had a meltdown in the cafeteria."

Ben was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer that. "Maybe I don't think you're as weird as you think you are."

Rey's eyes widened slightly. "Really?"

"Really." Ben handed her the backpack, and when their fingers brushed as she took it, he felt that familiar flutter in his chest. "For what it's worth, I think you're pretty brave. Not everyone would have fought back like that."

Rey hugged her backpack to her chest, a real smile breaking across her face for the first time since he'd found her. "Thank you, Ben. For bringing me my bag, and for... for saying that."

"No problem." Ben stood up, suddenly feeling awkward again. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah," Rey said, and she sounded like she meant it. "I think I will be."

As Ben walked away, he could feel Rey watching him go, and he had to resist the urge to turn around and look back.

The next day after school, Rey sat in Ms. Kalonia's empty classroom with Rose and Finn for their weekly book club meeting. They'd just finished discussing The Outsiders, and Rey was grateful for the distraction from yesterday's cafeteria incident.

"I loved how Ponyboy found his voice through writing," Rose said, closing her worn copy of the book. "It reminded me that sometimes the quiet ones have the most important things to say."

"Yeah, and the way the Greasers looked out for each other," Finn added. "Family isn't just blood, you know?"

Rey nodded, tracing the cover of her book with her finger. "I liked how he learned that people aren't always what they seem on the surface. Like, the Socs weren't all bad, and—"

"Speaking of people not being what they seem," Rose interrupted gently, "are you okay after yesterday? Those guys were such jerks."

Rey's shoulders tensed. She'd been hoping they wouldn't bring it up. "I'm fine. It's over."

"It's not over if they keep bothering you," Finn said firmly. "Next time, let's just sit together at lunch. Strength in numbers."

"But I read a lot though," Rey protested. "Won't that look weird? me reading and ignoring you two?"

Finn scoffed. "Who cares? We're friends. Friends eat lunch together. That's like, the most normal thing in the world."

"Finn's right," Rose agreed. "Besides, I'm tired of watching you sit alone every day. You don't have to isolate yourself just because you want to read, at least be close to us so we can shoo away anyone who messes with you."

Rey felt a warm flutter in her chest at their protectiveness. "You guys would really do that"

"Of course we would," Rose said, looking offended that Rey would even question it. "We're your friends, Rey. That's what friends do."

"Plus," Finn added with a grin, "I heard through the grapevine that Ben Solo came looking for you after the whole tray-throwing incident. That's pretty cool."

Rey's face immediately turned red. "How did you—"

"School's not that big," Rose said with a knowing smile. "And people talk. Apparently he grabbed your backpack and everything." Rose smirked at Rey “What else did he do i wonder?”

"It wasn't like that," Rey said quickly, though her heart was racing at the memory. "He was just being nice."

"Uh-huh," Finn said, clearly not buying it. "Ben Solo doesn't 'just be nice' to people. Trust me, I've been going to school with him since elementary. He's not mean, but he's not exactly the type to chase after crying kids either."

"Unless he likes said kid," Rose added with a meaningful look.

"You guys are reading too much into it," Rey insisted, but she couldn't stop the small smile from tugging at her lips. "He probably just felt bad for me."

"Or," Finn said, "he's finally realizing what everyone else can see—that you're pretty awesome."

Rey looked between her two friends, feeling a surge of affection for them. They always knew exactly what to say to make her feel better about herself.

"So," Rose said, changing the subject with obvious reluctance, "what should we read next? I was thinking maybe Pride and Prejudice?"

"Actually," Rey said, remembering the stack of books she'd checked out from the library, "I already started that one. It's really good so far."

Finn groaned. "Of course you did. You probably read three books while we were still finishing this one."

"Only two," Rey said with a sheepish grin.

"Show off," Rose teased, but her tone was fond. "Well, if you've already got a head start, I guess that settles it."

As they packed up their books and prepared to leave, Rey felt lighter than she had in days. Having friends who cared about her, who wanted to protect her and spend time with her—it was something she'd never really had before.

And if they were right about Ben Solo... well, that was just an added bonus she wasn't quite ready to think about yet.

Two days later, Rey made her way to the library with an armful of finished books. She'd blazed through Pride and Prejudice in one sitting the night before, and she was eager to find something new to dive into. The familiar smell of old paper and binding glue welcomed her as she pushed through the heavy doors.

She was halfway to the return desk when she spotted him.

Ben was sitting at the same corner table where she'd first seen him doing research, but this time he looked more relaxed. His dark hair fell across his forehead as he leaned over a book, completely absorbed in whatever he was reading.

Rey's steps slowed as she got a better look at the cover. Her heart did a little skip when she recognized it—The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. She'd read it just last month and had been completely captivated by the story.

For a moment, she just stood there, clutching her stack of returns and debating with herself. This was her chance to actually have a real conversation with Ben about something they both cared about. But what if she was interrupting? What if he didn't want to talk? What if she said something stupid?

You can do this, she told herself, thinking of Rose and Finn's encouraging words from book club. He was nice to you before. Just ask him about the book.

Taking a deep breath, Rey approached his table quietly. Ben looked up when her shadow fell across his page, and that familiar smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, Rey," he said, closing the book but keeping his finger in place to mark his spot.

"Hi," she said, then immediately felt stupid for just standing there. "I was just returning some books and I noticed..." She gestured at the book in his hands. "How are you liking it?"

Ben glanced down at the cover, then back at her. "You've read it?"

"Last month," Rey said, shifting the weight of her book stack. "It's incredible, isn't it? The way Death narrates the whole story—I've never read anything like it."

"I'm only about halfway through," Ben admitted, "but yeah, it's pretty amazing. The writing is beautiful, but it's heartbreaking at the same time."

Rey's eyes lit up. "Wait until you get to the part with Max and Liesel's friendship. And Hans—oh my gosh, Hans Hubermann is probably one of the best father figures in literature."

Ben's eyebrows raised slightly. "You really think about this stuff, don't you?"

Rey felt her cheeks warm. "Sorry, I get carried away when I talk about books I love."

"Don't apologize," Ben said quickly. "It's actually refreshing. Most people just read for assignments and forget about it afterward."

"Books are like..." Rey paused, trying to find the right words. "They're like windows into other worlds, you know? Other people's hearts and minds. When I read, I don't feel so..."

"Alone?" Ben suggested gently.

Rey nodded, surprised by how well he understood. "Exactly."

There was a moment of comfortable silence between them, and Rey realized Ben was looking at her with something that might have been newfound respect.

"So," he said, "without spoiling anything, would you recommend I keep reading?"

Rey couldn't help but grin. "Definitely. But maybe keep some tissues handy."

Ben laughed—a real, genuine laugh that made Rey's stomach flutter. "I'll take that under advisement."

"I should let you get back to it," Rey said, even though she didn't want the conversation to end.

"Actually," Ben said, hesitating slightly, "if you're not in a hurry, you could sit for a bit. I mean, if you want. I know you always have a ton of books to read."

Rey's heart practically leaped out of her chest. "I'd like that," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

As she settled into the chair across from him, Rey couldn't quite believe this was happening. She was actually sitting with Ben Solo, talking about books like they were friends. Maybe Rose and Finn were right—maybe there was more to his kindness than just feeling sorry for her.

"So," Ben said, reopening his book, "what are you reading next?"

Chapter Text

The next day at lunch, Rey walked into the cafeteria with Rose and Finn flanking her like bodyguards. True to their word, her friends had insisted on eating together, and Rey felt infinitely more confident with them by her side.

They claimed a table in the middle section—not too close to the popular kids, but not hidden away in the back corner either. Rey was unpacking her lunch when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Well, well, look who's got friends now."

Rey's stomach dropped as she turned to see the same three boys who had harassed her earlier in the week. The one with mashed potato stains still visible on his shirt dispite attempting to wash it off was clearly their ringleader.

"What do you want, Tyler?" Finn asked, his voice steady but warning.

"Just wondering if bookworm here is gonna throw more food," Tyler sneered. "Maybe we should sit somewhere else before she has another meltdown."

"Or maybe you should learn to mind your own business," Rose said coolly, not even looking up from her sandwich.

Rey felt her hands start to shake, but this time it was more anger than fear. She was tired of being made to feel small by these idiots.

"At least I can read above a third-grade level," she said, her voice clearer than she expected.

Tyler's face flushed red. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard her," came another voice, and Rey's heart nearly stopped.

Ben was standing behind Tyler, flanked by Phasma and Hux. His presence seemed to fill the space around their table, and Rey noticed how Tyler immediately took a step back.

"Problem here?" Ben asked, his tone deceptively casual but with an edge that made it clear he wasn't really asking.

"No problem," Tyler muttered, clearly not wanting to tangle with a group of upperclassmen. "We were just leaving."

"Good idea," Phasma said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Wouldn't want to interrupt anyone's lunch."

The three freshman boys slunk away, and Rey let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"Thanks," Finn said to Ben. "Those guys are jerks."

"Yeah, we noticed," Hux said, glancing at Rey. "You okay?"

Rey nodded, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Great. Now Ben had seen her being harassed twice. What must he think of her?

"Mind if we sit?" Ben asked, and Rey's eyes widened in surprise.

"You want to sit with us?" Rose asked, voicing what Rey was thinking.

"Why not?" Phasma shrugged, already pulling out a chair. "More fun than listening to Hux complain about his chemistry grade."

"I do not complain—" Hux started, but was cut off by Phasma's pointed look.

As the three upperclassmen settled at their table, Rey felt like she was in some kind of alternate reality. Ben Solo was sitting two seats away from her, casually opening his bag of chips like this was completely normal.

"So," Phasma said, looking directly at Rey, "I hear you're quite the reader."

Rey glanced at Ben, wondering what he'd told his friends. "I guess so."

"Ben mentioned you two were discussing The Book Thief yesterday," Phasma continued. "I loved that book. Destroyed me emotionally, but I loved it."

"Right?" Rey said, her nervousness starting to fade as she found herself in familiar territory. "The ending just wrecked me."

"Don't spoil it," Ben warned. "I'm still reading."

"We won't," Rey promised, then found herself smiling at him. "How far did you get last night?"

"About fifty pages," Ben admitted. "I kept getting distracted."

What he didn't say was that he'd been distracted thinking about their conversation in the library, about the way Rey's whole face had lit up when she talked about books, about how different she seemed when she was passionate about something.

But Rey didn't need to know that. Not yet.

"Well," Rose said, looking between Ben and Rey with obvious interest, "this is certainly an interesting development."

Rey shot her friend a warning look, but Rose just grinned innocently and took another bite of her apple.

After school, Rey was walking toward the parking lot where her Aunt would pick her up when she heard someone call her name. She turned to see Ben jogging to catch up with her, his backpack bouncing against his shoulder.

"Hey," he said slightly out of breath as he reached her. "I wanted to ask you something."

Rey's heart did its familiar flutter. "Okay."

Ben seemed nervous, which was strange because she'd never seen him anything but confident before. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his feet before meeting her eyes again.

"So, there's this bookstore downtown—Kenobi's Books? I know, funny coincidence with your last name," he said with a small smile. "Anyway, they have this poetry reading tomorrow night. Local authors and stuff. I was thinking of checking it out, and I wondered if you might want to come with me?"

Rey stared at him, certain she'd misheard. "You're asking me to go somewhere with you?"

"Yeah," Ben said, his cheeks slightly pink. "I mean, if you want to. I know poetry isn't everyone's thing, but you seem like someone who might appreciate it."

Rey's mind was racing. Was this a date? Were they hanging out as friends? Did it matter? Ben Solo was asking her to spend time with him outside of school, and that was more than she'd ever dared to hope for.

"I'd love to," she said, probably a little too quickly.

Ben's smile was bright and genuine. "Great. It starts at seven. I could pick you up around six-thirty?"

"You have a car?" Rey asked, surprised.

"My mom's old Honda," Ben said with a sheepish grin. "Not exactly impressive, but it gets me around."

"That's not—I didn't mean—" Rey stumbled over her words, embarrassed.

"I know what you meant," Ben said gently. "So, six-thirty?"

"Actually," Rey said, suddenly nervous about her Aunt meeting Ben, "could I maybe meet you there instead? I can get a ride."

Ben looked like he wanted to ask why, but just nodded. "Sure. It's on Main Street, next to the coffee shop."

"Got it!" Rey said.

"Cool." Ben shifted his backpack. "So I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow," Rey echoed.

As Ben walked away toward his own ride, Rey stood frozen in place, watching him go. She couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Ben Solo had asked her to go to a poetry reading with him. Her first instinct was to text Rose and Finn immediately, but she found herself wanting to hold onto this moment a little longer, to savor the way her heart was still racing and the smile she couldn't seem to wipe off her face.

"Rey!"

She turned to see her Aunt’s beat-up truck pulling up to the curb. Maz Kanata rolled down the window, her wild gray hair even more disheveled than usual.

"What's got you standing there grinning like a fool?" Maz said with her characteristic bluntness.

Rey climbed into the passenger seat, still feeling like she was floating. "Just a good day at school."

Maz raised an eyebrow but didn't press, though Rey caught her Aunt glancing at her curiously as they drove home. Rey spent the entire ride staring out the window and thinking about tomorrow, about sitting next to Ben in a cozy bookstore listening to poetry, about whether this meant what she hoped it meant.

Rey changed her outfit three times before settling on a simple navy sweater and her best pair of jeans. She'd convinced Maz to drop her off at the bookstore by telling her she was meeting some friends for a study group, which wasn't entirely a lie. Ben was becoming a friend, wasn't he?

Kenobi's Books was exactly the kind of place Rey had always imagined herself belonging—cozy and warm with floor-to-ceiling shelves, mismatched furniture, and the kind of lived-in atmosphere that made you want to curl up with a good book for hours. Fairy lights were strung between the shelves, and folding chairs had been arranged in a semicircle near the back of the store.

Rey arrived a few minutes early and was browsing the poetry section when she heard the door chime. She looked up to see Ben scanning the store, and when his eyes found hers, his face broke into that smile that never failed to make her stomach flip.

"You made it," he said, walking over to her.

"Of course I made it," Rey said, then felt stupid for stating the obvious. She was nervous in a way that was different from her usual school anxiety—this felt bigger somehow, more important.

"Good," Ben said, and Rey noticed he seemed a little nervous too. "I got us some hot chocolate. Hope that's okay."

He handed her a steaming cup, and Rey wrapped her hands around it gratefully. "Thank you. I love hot chocolate."

"Extra marshmallows," Ben said. "You seemed like an extra marshmallows kind of person."

Rey looked down at the drink and saw he was right—tiny marshmallows floated on the surface like little clouds. The fact that he'd thought about what she might like made her chest feel warm.

"Should we find seats?" Ben asked.

They settled into two chairs in the middle of the semicircle, and Rey tried not to think about how close Ben was sitting to her, how she could smell his cologne and see the way his hair fell across his forehead when he leaned forward to listen.

The reading began with a local woman sharing poems about her grandmother's garden, followed by a college student reading spoken word about growing up in the digital age. Rey found herself genuinely enjoying the variety of voices and styles, and she noticed Ben seemed equally engaged.

When a middle-aged man took the small stage to read a piece about lost love, Ben leaned over and whispered, "This one's hitting pretty hard."

Rey nodded, moved by the raw emotion in the poet's voice. "It's beautiful though. Sad, but beautiful."

Their eyes met for a moment, and Rey felt something pass between them—a shared understanding of the power of words to capture feelings too complex for ordinary conversation.

After the reading ended and people began to mill around, Ben turned to her. "What did you think?"

"I loved it," Rey said honestly. "Thank you for asking me to come. I never would have discovered this place on my own."

"Really?" Ben looked surprised. "I figured you'd already been to every bookstore in town."

"I like to, but I usually go alone," Rey admitted. "It's more fun with someone else who actually wants to be there."

Ben smiled. "Well, you'll have to show me your other favorite book spots sometime."

Rey's heart leaped at the implication that there would be a "sometime"—that this wasn't just a one-time thing.

As they walked toward the exit, Ben paused by a display of local authors. "Hey, look at this," he said, picking up a slim volume. "It's by one of the poets from tonight."

Rey looked at the book—a collection called "Small Moments, Big Feelings"—and felt drawn to it immediately.

"You should get it," Ben said, noticing her interest.

"I probably shouldn't," Rey said reluctantly. "I've already bought three books this week."

Without hesitation, Ben picked up the book and walked to the counter. "My treat," he said when Rey started to protest.

"Ben, you don't have to—"

"I want to," he said simply, handing his card to the cashier. "Consider it a thank you for recommending I finish The Book Thief. You were right about the tissues, by the way."

Rey felt her cheeks warm. "You finished it?"

"Last night," Ben said. "Couldn't put it down once I got to the part you mentioned about Max and Liesel."

As they walked out into the cool evening air, Rey clutched the book to her chest like a treasure.

"This was really nice," she said as they stood on the sidewalk outside the bookstore.

"Yeah, it was," Ben agreed. "We should do it again sometime."

Rey looked up at him, backlit by the warm glow of the bookstore windows, and felt like she was living in one of the romantic novels she secretly loved to read. "I'd like that."

When Maz's truck pulled up to the curb, Rey felt a pang of disappointment that the evening was ending.

"See you at school," Ben said.

"See you at school," Rey echoed, climbing into the truck.

As they drove away, Rey watched Ben in the side mirror until he disappeared from view, still holding the book he'd bought her like it was the most precious thing in the world.

The next afternoon, Rey found herself standing in the skincare aisle at CVS, overwhelmed by the sheer number of products promising clearer, smoother, more beautiful skin. She picked up bottle after bottle—face cleansers, acne spot treatments, exfoliating scrubs, pimple patches in various sizes.

Her arms were full of products when she added a bottle of vanilla-scented lotion and a small bottle of perfume that the label promised would make her "irresistibly fresh."

At the checkout counter, Maz raised an eyebrow at the collection of beauty products. "Planning to open your own spa, child?"

Rey's cheeks burned. "I'm just... trying new things."

"Ah, right," Maz said with a knowing smirk as she paid for the items. "You're growing up now, huh? Gotta look good for the boys at school."

Rey's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and she stared down at her shoes, not trusting herself to deny it convincingly. Maz's teasing laugh followed them out of the store.

That night, Rey tried three different face cleansers, applied two types of acne cream, and fell asleep with high hopes for clearer skin in the morning.

She woke up looking like she'd been attacked by angry bees.

Her face was covered in red, inflamed bumps that were twice as bad as her usual acne. Some areas were dry and flaky from the harsh cleansers, while others were shiny and irritated. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror in horror.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," she was frantically applying pimple patches to the worst spots until her face looked like it was covered in polka dots.

At school, Rose took one look at her and winced sympathetically. "Oh, Rey. You must have had a bad reaction to one of those face cleansers."

Rey groaned, pulling her hood up over her head. "I look like a pepperoni pizza."

"It's not that bad," Rose lied kindly.

"Don't lie to me," Rey said miserably. "I can't let Ben see me like this."

"Rey, you're being dramatic. It's just a breakout—"

"It's not just a breakout!" Rey interrupted. "Look at me! I look disgusting!"

For the rest of the day, Rey became a master of avoidance. When she saw Ben's tall figure in the hallway, she ducked into the nearest bathroom. When he headed toward the library during lunch, she stayed far away from her usual reading spots. She even took a longer route to her classes to avoid the areas where she knew he liked to hang out.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, Ben was growing increasingly confused and concerned. He'd looked for Rey at lunch, hoping to tell her about the poem he'd read in the book he'd bought her, but she was nowhere to be found. He checked the library—their usual meeting spot—but she wasn't there either.

During his free period, he approached Finn in the hallway.

"Hey, have you seen Rey today?" Ben asked. "I wanted to talk to her about something."

Finn shrugged. "She was in first period, but I haven't seen her since lunch."

"If you see her, just tell her I was looking for her, okay?"

Later, Ben found Rose at her locker between classes.

"Rose, hey," he said, slightly out of breath from hurrying to catch her. "Have you seen Rey? I've been looking for her all day."

Rose glanced around nervously, clearly uncomfortable. "I... um... I'm not really sure where she is right now."

Ben frowned. Rose was obviously lying, but he couldn't figure out why. "Is she okay? Did something happen?"

"She's fine," Rose said quickly. "Just... having a rough day, I think."

"A rough day?" Ben pressed. "What kind of rough day?"

Rose looked like she was torn between loyalty to her friend and sympathy for Ben's obvious concern. "Maybe you should just give her some space today," she said finally.

As Rose hurried away, Ben stood in the empty hallway feeling more confused than ever. What had happened to make Rey avoid him? Had he done something wrong at the poetry reading? Had he misread the signals entirely?

By the end of the week, Rey's face had finally calmed down. The angry red inflammation had faded, and while she still had her usual scattering of acne, it was back to manageable levels. She'd thrown away all the harsh cleansers and gone back to her gentle face wash, vowing never to try so many new products at once again.

Standing in front of her bathroom mirror on Friday morning, Rey finally felt brave enough to face the world—and Ben—again. She missed him more than she cared to admit. She missed their library conversations, their shared smiles across the cafeteria, the way he made her feel like her thoughts and opinions actually mattered.

But when she got to school and saw Ben at his usual table with Phasma and Hux, something was different. He looked... dejected. His shoulders were slumped, and he was picking at his sandwich without really eating it. Even from across the cafeteria, Rey could see that the easy smile he usually wore was nowhere to be found.

"You should go talk to him," Rose said, following Rey's gaze.

"I will," Rey said, but she found herself hesitating. What if he was angry at her for disappearing? What if he thought she was weird for avoiding him?

She was still working up the courage when the lunch bell rang and everyone began clearing their tables.

Meanwhile, Ben was having his own internal crisis. A whole week had passed without so much as a glimpse of Rey, and he was forced to face an uncomfortable truth. That he might have made Rey uncomfortable.

Her complete avoidance of him had sent a clear message.

"Dude, you've been moping all week," Hux said as they walked to their next class. "What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," Ben muttered.

"Right," Phasma said sarcastically. "And I'm the Queen of England. This is about Rey, isn't it?"

Ben stopped walking. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Phasma said, counting on her fingers. "Maybe the fact that you've been scanning the cafeteria like a lost puppy for the past five days? Or the way you keep checking the library every free period? Or how you asked Rose about her three different times?"

Ben felt his cheeks burn. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" Hux asked.

Ben ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I thought... I don't know what I thought. You said she had a crush on me, and I started to think maybe there was something there, but clearly I was wrong."

"What do you mean clearly?" Phasma pressed.

"She's been avoiding me all week!" Ben exploded, drawing stares from other students in the hallway. He lowered his voice. "People don't avoid people  they like. They avoid people who make them uncomfortable."

Phasma and Hux exchanged a look.

"Solo," Phasma said gently, "you're an idiot."

"Thanks, that's helpful."

"No, I mean you're actually being stupid right now," Phasma continued. "There are a million reasons why someone might avoid their crush. Maybe she's nervous. Maybe she thinks you're out of her league. Maybe she's scared of getting hurt."

"Or maybe," Hux added, "she doesn't have a crush on you at all and you were wrong from the beginning."

Ben felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. That had to be it. He'd let his friends convince him of something that wasn't true, and now he'd made Rey so uncomfortable that she couldn't even be in the same room as him.

"I should probably just leave her alone," he said quietly.

"Or," Phasma said, "you could actually talk to her and find out what's going on instead of making assumptions."

But Ben had already made up his mind. If Rey wanted to avoid him, he'd make it easier for her. He'd stop looking for her in the library, stop hoping to catch her eye across the cafeteria.

Rey spent the weekend reading the poetry book Ben had bought her, running her fingers over the pages and remembering the way he'd smiled when he handed it to the cashier. Every poem seemed to echo her own feelings—the uncertainty, the longing, the fear of putting yourself out there only to be rejected.

By Monday morning, she'd worked up the courage to approach him. She'd apologize for disappearing, maybe make up some excuse about being busy with family stuff. Anything to get back to the easy friendship they'd been building. But every time she tries to approach him at the hallway he would turn the other way and walk off.

When she walked into the cafeteria for lunch, Ben was sitting at his usual table, but he wasn't scanning the room like he used to. He wasn't looking for her. In fact, when their eyes accidentally met across the crowded space, he looked away quickly, focusing intently on his conversation with Hux.

"Rey?, whatchu looking at?" Rose's voice seemed to come from very far away.

"He's ignoring me," Rey whispered, still staring at Ben's table.

"What? Who's ignoring you?"

"Ben. I looked right at him and he looked away." Rey's voice was getting smaller with each word. "He doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

Finn appeared beside them, carrying his lunch tray. "What's wrong with Rey? She looks like someone kicked her puppy."

"She thinks Ben is ignoring her," Rose explained.

"Why would Ben ignore you?" Finn asked, genuinely confused. "The guy's been looking for you all week like a lost—"

"He has not," Rey interrupted. "He just looked right through me like I don't exist."

Finn and Rose exchanged a concerned glance over Rey's head.

"Maybe he's just having a bad day," Rose suggested gently.

But Rey was already retreating into herself, building up the walls she'd spent weeks letting down. "I was stupid to think someone like him would actually be interested in someone like me."

"Rey, that's not—"

"Can we just sit down?" Rey cut her off, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

They found a table in the corner, far from Ben's usual spot. Rey spent the entire lunch period staring at her untouched meal, occasionally glancing over to where Ben sat with his friends. Each time she looked, he seemed perfectly fine—laughing at Hux's jokes, listening to Phasma's stories, completely unaffected by her presence.

What Rey didn't see was the way Ben's smile never quite reached his eyes, or how he kept glancing toward the corner where she sat, or how his food remained mostly untouched on his tray.

What Ben didn't see was the way Rey's shoulders shook slightly, or how she kept wiping at her eyes when she thought no one was looking, or how she flinched every time someone laughed too loudly.

After lunch, Rey walked to her locker feeling more alone than she had in weeks. She was fumbling with her combination when she heard familiar voices behind her.

"...should just talk to her," Phasma was saying.

"There's nothing to talk about," Ben replied, his voice flat. "She made it pretty clear she doesn't want anything to do with me."

Rey's heart clenched. She wanted to turn around, to tell him that wasn't true, that she'd been hiding because she was embarrassed and insecure and terrified of him seeing her at her worst. But the words stuck in her throat.

"You're both being ridiculous," Phasma said, exasperated.

"Just leave it alone, Phasma," Ben said, and Rey heard his footsteps moving away.

Rey closed her locker with shaking hands and leaned her forehead against the cool metal. She'd ruined everything. Whatever chance she'd had with Ben Solo, she'd thrown it away because she was too vain and too scared to let him see her with a few extra pimples.

"Stupid," she whispered to herself. "So stupid."

The hallway began to empty as students headed to their next classes, but Rey stayed where she was, trying to pull herself together enough to face the rest of the day. She had no idea that thirty feet away, Ben was doing the exact same thing.

Three days later, Rey found herself standing at the entrance to the library during her free period, her heart hammering against her ribs. She'd spent the past few nights lying awake, replaying every interaction she'd had with Ben, and she'd come to a painful conclusion: she owed him an explanation.

Through the tall stacks, she could see him at his usual corner table. He was alone, reading what looked like another book from the poetry collection they'd discovered together.

Rey scanned the area around his table. There were only a few other students scattered throughout the library, all absorbed in their own work and far enough away that they wouldn't overhear a quiet conversation. If she was going to do this, now was the perfect opportunity.

Taking a deep breath, Rey forced her feet to move forward.

Ben looked up when her shadow fell across his table, and for a moment, his face lit up with the same warm smile she remembered. But then something shifted in his expression, as if he was reminding himself to be cautious.

"Hey," he said quietly, closing his book but keeping his finger between the pages.

"Hi," Rey said, her voice barely above a whisper. She gestured to the empty chair across from him. "Can I... can I sit?"

Ben hesitated for just a second, but then nodded. "Sure."

Rey sat down and immediately began fidgeting with the strap of her backpack, trying to find the right words. Now that she was here, facing him, her carefully rehearsed apology seemed to evaporate.

"Ben, I—" she started, then stopped. "I owe you an explanation."

"You don't owe me anything," Ben said, but his voice was gentler than the formal politeness he'd been showing her lately.

"Yes, I do." Rey took a shaky breath. "You probably think I was avoiding you because of something you did, or because I didn't want to be around you anymore, but that's not... that's not true at all."

Ben's eyebrows rose slightly, and Rey could see a flicker of hope cross his face before he seemed to suppress it.

"The truth is," Rey continued, her cheeks already burning with embarrassment, "I was avoiding you because I was mortified about how I looked."

"What?" Ben looked genuinely confused.

Rey closed her eyes, unable to look at him while she explained. "After our night at the bookstore, I... I bought a bunch of new skincare products. I wanted to look better, you know? Clearer skin, less acne. But I used too many things at once and had this horrible reaction. My face broke out worse than it ever had before. I looked like..." She opened her eyes and met his gaze. "I looked awful, Ben. Really awful. And I was so embarrassed and self-conscious that I couldn't bear the thought of you seeing me like that."

Ben stared at her for a long moment, and Rey couldn't read his expression. Her heart sank as the silence stretched between them.

"So you hid from me," Ben said finally, "because you had some pimples?"

The way he said it made Rey feel even more foolish. "I know it sounds stupid—"

"Rey." Ben leaned forward across the table, his voice more serious than she'd ever heard it. "Do you really think I care about whether or not you have acne?"

Rey bit her lip,"I... I don't know. Maybe?"

"I don't," Ben said firmly. "I've never cared about that. Not even a little bit."

"But you're..." Rey gestured vaguely at him, "you're you. And I'm just—"

"You're just what?" Ben interrupted, and there was something almost fierce in his voice now. "Smart? Funny? Kind? Someone who throws food at bullies and reads poetry and gets excited about books in a way that makes me want to read everything you've ever recommended?"

Rey felt tears prick at her eyes. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I mean it." Ben's expression softened. "Rey, I've been miserable this past week thinking I'd somehow made you uncomfortable or pushed too hard or... I don't know, scared you off somehow."

"You didn't," Rey said quickly. "You didn't do anything wrong. I was just... I was being stupid and insecure."

"You weren't being stupid," Ben said gently. "But you were definitely being insecure about the wrong things."

Rey wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her chest. "I'm sorry I avoided you. I missed... I missed talking to you."

Ben's smile was soft and genuine. "I missed talking to you too."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of them processing the relief of finally understanding each other.

"So," Ben said eventually, "are we okay?"

Rey nodded, unable to keep the smile off her face. "We're okay."

"Good," Ben said, reopening his book. "Because I've been dying to tell someone about this poem I read yesterday, and you're the only person I know who won't think I'm weird for getting excited about metaphors."

Chapter Text

Over the next few weeks, Ben and Rey fell into a comfortable routine. Almost every day after school, they would meet at Kenobi's Books, claiming their favorite corner with the mismatched armchairs and the view of the street outside. Sometimes they'd browse the shelves together, recommending books to each other with the kind of enthusiasm that made the elderly owner, Mrs. Kenobi, smile knowingly from behind the counter.

Other times they'd sit and read in companionable silence, occasionally looking up to share a particularly beautiful line or an interesting thought. Rey had never experienced anything like it—the simple pleasure of sharing space with someone who understood her love of words and stories.

"Listen to this," Ben said one Thursday afternoon, looking up from a collection of contemporary poetry. "The way she writes about memory—'The past is a country where I once lived, but I've forgotten the language.'" He paused, meeting Rey's eyes. "Isn't that perfect?"

Rey smiled, her heart doing its familiar flutter at the way Ben's whole face lit up when he talked about something he loved. "It's beautiful. It reminds me of that line from the book you're reading—about how we carry all our former selves inside us."

"Exactly!" Ben said, leaning forward in his chair. "That's what I love about poetry. It finds these connections between things you never realized were connected."

Rey nodded, even though she'd actually read that particular poetry book three months ago. She'd been doing that a lot lately—pretending books were new to her just so she could experience them "for the first time" with Ben. She told herself it wasn't really lying; she was just giving herself the chance to see familiar words through his eyes, to discover new meanings in the discussions they shared.

"You know," Rey said, closing her own book and marking her place, "you should think about joining our book club at school. We meet every week in Ms. Tano's classroom, and we're always looking for new perspectives."

Ben looked up from his poetry collection, considering. "Book club, huh? What do you guys usually read?"

"All kinds of things. Last month we did The Outsiders, and next we're starting Pride and Prejudice. Rose picks a lot of the classics, but Finn always pushes for more contemporary stuff. Ms. Tano lets us debate it out."

"And you think I'd fit in?" Ben asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Rey's face broke into a radiant smile. "Are you kidding? You'd be perfect. You always have these amazing insights about character development and themes. Plus, Rose would probably faint from excitement if she got to discuss Jane Austen with someone who actually appreciates the social commentary."

Ben laughed. "When do you meet?"

"Tuesdays after school. We usually go for about an hour, sometimes longer if we get really into a discussion."

"I might consider it," Ben said, and Rey's heart soared at the possibility.

"Really?" She tried to keep her excitement contained, but she could feel herself practically bouncing in her chair.

"Really. But only if you promise to warn me if Rose gets too intense about the Regency period. I've heard she has strong opinions about historical accuracy."

Rey giggled. "I can't promise that. She once spent twenty minutes explaining why the costumes in a BBC adaptation were all wrong. But I can promise you'll love the discussions. There's something magical about talking through a book with people who care as much as you do."

They settled back into their reading, but Rey found herself stealing glances at Ben over the top of her book. The golden afternoon light streaming through the bookstore windows caught the highlights in his dark hair, and when he smiled at something he was reading, she felt like her chest might explode from happiness.

This was dangerous territory, she knew. Their friendship had grown so naturally, so comfortably, that sometimes she forgot about the crush that had started it all. But in moments like this, when Ben looked up to share a quote or when their hands accidentally brushed reaching for the same book, she was reminded with startling clarity that her feelings had only grown stronger.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?"

Rey felt warmth spread through her chest. "Thank you for wanting to listen. Most people think I'm weird for getting so excited about books."

"Their loss," Ben said with a shrug. "Besides, weird is fun. Normal is boring."

As they packed up their books to head home, Rey couldn't help but think that if this was what having a best friend felt like, she never wanted it to end.

"Wait, you two are going together?" Ben asked, looking between Hux and Phasma in disbelief. They were sitting at their usual lunch table, and his friends had just casually mentioned their plans for the upcoming formal dance.

"Yep," Hux said, stealing one of Phasma's fries. "Figured it would be easier than trying to find actual dates."

"What the hell? You're going without me?" Ben felt oddly betrayed, like they were breaking up some unspoken trio.

Hux shrugged. "You snooze, you lose, Solo."

"Just go ask Rey," Phasma said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Problem solved."

Ben felt his cheeks warm. "I'm not even sure she's interested in dances and stuff like that."

"Oh please," Hux snorted. "Just tell her you'll slow dance while reading poetry to each other. She'll probably melt on the spot."

Phasma's foot connected hard with Hux's shin under the table. "Don't be mean," she warned, though Ben could see her trying not to smile.

"I mean..." Ben said slowly, actually considering it. "Maybe..."

The idea took root in his mind throughout the rest of the day. Rey at a dance, maybe wearing a dress, definitely smiling that radiant smile of hers. They could hang out, dance to the slow songs, make fun of the terrible DJ together. It actually sounded perfect.

By the time school ended, Ben had worked up the courage to ask her. He made his way to Rey's locker, already planning his casual approach, when he stopped short.

Rey was there, but she wasn't alone. A timid-looking freshman boy with sandy hair was standing nervously in front of her, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"So, um," the boy was saying, "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go to the formal dance with me?"

Ben froze, hidden behind a group of students at the nearby lockers. He watched Rey stare at the boy for a long moment, and Ben could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She couldn't even dance, Rey thought to herself. She'd probably step all over his feet.

"It's my first time going to one of these things," the boy continued, "and I was hoping to go with someone who wouldn't make fun of me if I mess up."

Rey's expression softened, and she smiled kindly at him. "Hmm, okay. Let's go."

She doubted Ben would ask her anyway, Rey reasoned. This way, at least she wouldn't spend the night wondering what it would be like to dance with him.

"Really?" the boy's face lit up. "Great! I'll meet you there at seven?"

"Sounds good," Rey said, and they spent a moment working out the details.

Ben felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He stood there, watching Rey close her locker, debating whether to just leave when she turned and spotted him.

"Ben!" she said, walking over with that smile that always made his heart skip. "What are you up to? Are you going to the formal dance?"

Ben tried to match her casual tone, though his chest felt tight. "Uh.. well yeah I was on my way to ask someone."

Rey's face fell slightly. "Oh... you are?"

"Yeah," He forced a smile. "It was pretty last minute."

Rey nodded, then asked nervously, "Who... who were you taking?"

Ben paused, realizing he'd backed himself into a corner. "Well... I was gonna ask you, but..." He shrugged, trying to play it off. "I guess I'll just be going solo then. Haha, like my name, you know..." He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

Rey's eyes widened in shock. "You... you were going to ask ME?"

"Well, yeah," Ben said, backing away slowly as embarrassment flooded through him. "Just so we could hang out and stuff... so,... Anyways I'll see you there ... Mitaka seems like a chill guy" He gave her a weak wave as he retreated down the hallway practically running away.

Rey stood frozen by her locker, watching Ben disappear around the corner. Her heart was racing, and she felt like she might be sick. Ben Solo had been planning to ask her to the dance. Ben Solo wanted to go with her. And she'd just agreed to go with someone else because she thought he never would.

"Say cheese!" Maz called out, holding up her old digital camera.

Rey smiled brightly, and the flash caught the glint of her braces as it always did. She looked down at herself one more time—the navy blue dress Maz had helped her pick out, the careful makeup that had covered most of her acne, her hair actually cooperating for once in soft waves around her shoulders.

"You look beautiful, child," Maz said, reviewing the photo on the camera's tiny screen. "That boy better treat you right."

Rey's stomach fluttered with nerves as they drove to the school. She kept thinking about Ben's words at her locker.

The gymnasium had been transformed with twinkling lights and streamers, and the bass from the pop music thrummed through the floor. Rey spotted Rose and Finn near the entrance almost immediately.

"Rey!" Rose called out, rushing over. "You look amazing!"

"Thanks," Rey said, scanning the room over her friends' shoulders. "Have you seen—"

"There you are!" Her date appeared at her elbow, looking nervous but excited in his rented tux. "You look really nice."

"Hello," Rey said, forcing a smile. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

"Want to start dancing?" he asked hopefully.

Rey glanced around the room one more time, still looking for a familiar tall figure with dark hair. "Yes, sure."

They made their way onto the dance floor, and Rey did her best to follow along with the upbeat songs. Her date was actually a decent dancer, and after a few songs, his confidence seemed to grow. Soon he was laughing and joking with other freshmen who had gathered around them.

"I'm going to get something to drink," Rey said during a brief pause between songs. "Be right back."

Her date nodded, already turning to chat with another group of students. Rey made her way through the crowd toward the refreshment table, grateful for a moment to catch her breath.

She was reaching for a cup when a familiar voice stopped her.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you. It's been spiked."

Rey turned to find Ben standing beside the punch table, a red solo cup in his hand. He looked devastatingly handsome in his black suit, his usually messy hair actually styled for once.

"What?" Rey's eyes widened as she looked at the innocent-looking punch bowl. "How? There are teachers everywhere."

Ben shrugged and gestured with his chin toward the corner where Mr. Skywalker and Ms. Holdo were supposed to be supervising. Instead, they were deep in conversation, completely ignoring their chaperone duties.

"Watch," Ben said quietly.

As if on cue, Hux appeared, sliding through the crowd with practiced stealth. "Hey, cover me!" he whispered to Ben as he pulled a small flask from inside his jacket.

Rey watched in horror as Hux emptied the entire contents into the punch bowl, stirring it casually with the ladle.

"Quit it, Hux, that's enough," Ben said, but his tone suggested this wasn't the first time tonight.

Hux just smirked and moved to Ben's cup, adding a splash from another flask he'd apparently been hiding. "Enjoy the night, Solo," he said, then turned to Rey with a wink. "You too, squirt."

With that, he sauntered off toward where Phasma was standing near the DJ booth, looking elegant and slightly bored in her silver dress.

Rey stared at the punch bowl, then at Ben. "Should we tell someone?"

"Probably," Ben said, taking a sip from his cup. "But honestly, half the junior and senior class probably already knows. The underclassmen will figure it out soon enough."

Rey grabbed a water bottle from the side table instead, suddenly feeling very young and out of place. "So this is what high school dances are really like?"

Ben's expression softened slightly. "Not all of them. But yeah, this is pretty typical." He paused, looking at her carefully. "You having fun with your date?"

The question hung in the air between them, loaded with everything they weren't saying.

"Yeah, he's alright," Rey said, glancing over at the dance floor. "I don't think he's missing me right now."

They both looked toward where her date was now dancing enthusiastically with another freshman girl, his earlier nervousness completely gone.

Rey shrugged. "Oh well."

She turned back to Ben, who was taking another sip from his solo cup. The ambient lighting from the disco ball cast shifting patterns across his face.

"How's it taste?" she asked, nodding toward his drink.

Ben looked at her and smirked. "Wanna try?"

Rey narrowed her eyes, studying his expression for a few seconds. "Yeah," she said finally.

Ben handed her the cup, and Rey took a tentative sip. Immediately, she started coughing, her eyes watering as she quickly handed it back to him.

"Why is my throat burning?" she gasped, rubbing at her sternum.

Ben chuckled,  "That's just how alcohol works."

"I'm not sure I like it," Rey said, still making a face.

"That's alright," Ben said easily. "It's an acquired taste."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the bass from the speakers thrumming around them. Finally, Ben cleared his throat.

"You look nice, by the way," he said, his voice softer than before.

Rey felt her cheeks warm, grateful for the dim lighting. "You look nice too."

Another awkward pause stretched between them, filled with the sound of pop music and teenage laughter.

"I'm not really that big into dancing, honestly," Rey admitted, fidgeting with her fingers.

Ben nodded. "Yeah, me either."

"Have you danced yet?" Rey asked.

Ben shook his head. "Nah, I'd rather people not see how bad I am at it."

Rey giggled,  "It can't be worse than that," she said, pointing toward the dance floor.

Ben followed her gaze to where her date was now attempting what could only be described as a fish-out-of-water dance, his arms flailing wildly as he tried to keep up with the beat.

They both burst into laughter, the tension between them momentarily forgotten in their shared amusement.

"Okay, you might have a point there," Ben admitted, wiping his eyes. "That's definitely worse than anything I could do."

"See?" Rey said, still grinning. "You're probably fine."

The song changed to something slower, and they watched as couples began to pair off on the dance floor. Rey's date, apparently having found a new partner, didn't seem to notice or care that his original date was missing.

"Want to step outside for some fresh air?" Ben asked, nodding toward the exit.

Rey nodded gratefully. "Yes, please."

They made their way through the crowd, passing Mr. Skywalker and Ms. Holdo who had apparently abandoned their chaperoning duties entirely and were now slow dancing very badly in the corner, completely oblivious to everything around them.

The cool night air was a welcome relief after the stuffy gymnasium. Rey took a deep breath as they settled on the concrete steps outside the main entrance, the muffled sound of music still audible through the walls.

Ben reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim hardcover book.

Rey gasped. "Is that—is that the mystery book we saw advertised last week? The one that was supposed to be released today?"

Ben nodded, a pleased smile crossing his face.

Rey squealed with delight, immediately scooting closer to his side. "Can I take a look?"

Ben handed her the book, and Rey caressed the cover eagerly before opening to the first page, her eyes bright with excitement.

"I was hoping we could sit and read this together after the dance," Ben said.

"Why not now?" Rey asked, already absorbed in the opening lines.

Ben chuckled. "It's too dark out here for us to read properly."

Rey looked up at the dim lighting from the school's exterior lamps and shrugged. "Fine. Tomorrow then?"

"Yup," Ben agreed, then paused, studying her face in the soft light. "Hmm, you look odd."

Rey's eyes widened and she looked around nervously. "What do you mean?"

Ben squinted at her, then reached out with his thumb to rub gently at her cheek. When he pulled his hand away, there was makeup on his thumb.

"Hey!" Rey blushed, swatting at his hand.

Ben smirked and ignored her protest, bringing up his other hand to start gently smudging more of the makeup from her face.

"Stop it!" Rey squealed, giggling despite herself as she tried to dodge his hands.

When he finally stopped, Rey glared at him, though her eyes were sparkling with laughter. Most of her carefully applied makeup was gone, and her natural complexion—acne and all—was visible in the moonlight.

"I was trying to hide them," Rey said, suddenly self-conscious again.

Ben smiled softly. "Hide what? I think you look pretty cute the way you normally look."

Rey blushed deeper and looked down at her hands. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ben said simply.

Rey looked up at him through her lashes, and a mischievous smirk crossed her face. Without warning, she launched herself at his perfectly styled hair, running her fingers through it and completely destroying the careful gel work.

"Hey!" Ben protested, but he was laughing too hard to really stop her.

When she was finished, Ben's hair was completely ruffled and shaggy, falling across his forehead in the messy way it usually did.

Rey giggled, sitting back to admire her handiwork. "You look better like this anyway."

They both dissolved into laughter, sitting on the school steps with messed-up hair and smudged makeup, looking nothing like the formal dance-goers they were supposed to be. But somehow, Rey thought, this felt more real than anything that had happened inside the gymnasium.

Inside the gymnasium, Rose and Finn swayed gently to the slow song that was playing, Rose's head resting comfortably on Finn's shoulder.

"Hey, you seen Rey?" Rose asked quietly, glancing around the dimly lit dance floor.

Finn shook his head. "I don't know. Haven't seen her in a while."

Rose shrugged, settling back against his shoulder. "I'm sure she's fine."

On the other side of the dance floor, Hux had his head resting on Phasma's shoulder, a contented smile on his face as they moved slowly to the music. For once, his usual sarcastic demeanor had been replaced by something softer.

Outside on the steps, Ben and Rey had stood up from where they'd been sitting. The muffled sound of the slow song drifted through the walls, and without really discussing it, they'd begun to sway together. Rey's arms were around Ben's neck, and his hands rested gently on her waist.

Some of Rey's remaining makeup had rubbed off onto Ben's white shirt, but he didn't care. He rested his chin on top of her head, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo.

"Thank you, Ben," Rey whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant music.

Ben's arms tightened slightly around her. "For what?"

"For still dancing with me."

Ben smiled, even though she couldn't see it. "Thank you for letting me mess up your makeup."

Rey laughed softly against his chest. "Thank you for letting me mess up your hair."

They continued swaying together under the stars, both of them knowing that something fundamental had shifted between them tonight. This wasn't just friendship anymore—it was something deeper, something that made Rey's heart race and Ben's chest feel warm and full.

The song inside began to fade, but they didn't stop moving. Out here in the cool night air, with no one to see them but the moon.

Chapter Text

Rey stood outside Ben's house, checking her reflection in her phone screen one more time. She'd sprayed mint in her mouth twice, applied lip balm, and even used the new vanilla perfume she'd bought specifically for occasions like this. The scented lotion she'd rubbed on her arms earlier made her skin smell like flowers, and she'd spent an extra ten minutes trying to tame her hair into something presentable.

She fidgeted with the drawstrings of her oversized hoodie, hoping it would hide how small her chest was. Maybe Ben wouldn't notice. Maybe he wouldn't care.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed the doorbell.

"Hey," Ben said when he opened the door, his face lighting up with that smile that never failed to make her stomach flip. "You made it."

"Yeah," Rey said, suddenly feeling shy. "Your parents really aren't home?"

"Work trip until next Sunday," Ben confirmed, stepping aside to let her in. "It's just us."

He gave her a quick tour of the house—the living room with its massive sectional, the kitchen with a fruit bowl he told her to help herself to—before leading her upstairs to his bedroom.

Rey's eyes widened as she stepped inside. His room was easily twice the size of hers, with a comfortable-looking sofa facing a large TV connected to multiple gaming consoles, and an impressive bookshelf that covered most of one wall.

"Wow," she breathed, walking over to examine his book collection. "You have so many."

Ben came up beside her, close enough that she could smell his cologne—something woody and warm that made her want to lean closer. "Have you read any of them?"

Rey scanned the shelves, her finger trailing along the spines until she stopped at a familiar series. "I read the first volume of this one, but I haven't gotten to the second yet."

"Want to read it together?" Ben asked.

Rey nodded, and he pulled the book from the shelf before gesturing toward the small sofa in his room. They settled down together, the book open between them, sitting close enough that their shoulders touched.

At some point—neither of them was sure exactly when—they'd stopped reading and set the book aside. Now they were facing each other on the couch, Ben excitedly showing her his video game collection.

"I'm not really much of a gamer," Rey admitted, "but I love listening to you talk about them. You get this look on your face when you're excited about something."

Ben's cheeks flushed slightly. "Do you want to try one? I could set up a two-player game."

"Sure," Rey said, even though she'd never held a controller in her life.

Ben started up Mario Kart, and Rey did indeed have fun, despite losing at least five races in a row. She laughed every time she crashed into a wall or fell off the track, and when she finally managed to throw a banana at Ben's kart and make him spin out, she squealed with delight.

"I got you!" she giggled, pumping her fist in the air.

"Beginner's luck," Ben said, but he was grinning.

During a break between races, Ben started browsing through his other games to show her options. Rey found herself cuddling close to his side, letting him point out different titles while she nuzzled against his shoulder. He really did smell amazing—like he'd put on cologne just for her.

"You smell really good," she said without thinking, then immediately blushed at her boldness.

Ben looked down at her, and something in his expression made Rey's heart start racing. "So do you," he said softly. "Like vanilla and flowers."

They were sitting so close now that Rey could see the individual lashes framing Ben's dark eyes. The controller had been forgotten in his lap, and the TV screen had gone to a screensaver, but neither of them noticed.

"Rey," Ben said quietly, his voice different than she'd ever heard it.

"Yeah?"

"Can I..." He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering down to her lips. "Can I kiss you?"

Rey's heart felt like it might beat right out of her chest. "Yes," she whispered.

Ben leaned down slowly, giving her plenty of time to change her mind, but Rey met him halfway. When their lips touched, it was soft and tentative and perfect. Rey's eyes fluttered closed, and she felt like she was floating.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing a little harder.

"Was that..." Ben started, looking uncertain. "Was that okay?"

Rey smiled, her braces catching the light from his TV. "It was perfect."

Ben's eyes darkened slightly as he looked at her flushed face. "Can I... again?"

Rey nodded shyly, and Ben leaned in for a second kiss. This one started soft like the first, but then Ben slowly began to part his lips, gently opening and closing them against hers. Rey tried to mimic what he was doing, though she wasn't entirely sure of the technique.

When she felt his tongue lightly trace her lips and then gently probe inside, Rey pulled back suddenly, covering her mouth with her hands, eyes wide.

"Was that too much? I'm sorry!" Ben said immediately, pulling back with concern written across his face.

Rey shook her head quickly while still covering her mouth. "No, no, I just... I, uhh..." She blushed deeply. "I wasn't sure if you would like my braces..."

Ben's expression softened into a gentle smile. "Rey, your braces don't put me off at all."

He leaned closer and carefully moved her hands away from her mouth, holding them gently. "May I?"

Rey gulped, her heart racing. "O-okay."

She closed her eyes and let him lean down to kiss her again. This time, when she felt his tongue gently probe her lips, she slowly opened them to let him in. She felt him stroke her tongue softly, and she tried to respond in kind, tentatively stroking back.

She felt his body shake with a quiet chuckle, and she pulled back shyly. "Am I bad at this?"

"No, no," Ben said quickly, his voice warm with affection. "You're just so cute, that's all."

He kissed her again, this time even more tenderly. Rey felt him run his tongue gently along her braces before meeting her tongue again, and she realized he truly didn't mind them at all.

Tonight marked not only Rey's first kiss, but also her first real make-out session. They eventually did return to playing Mario Kart, but found themselves pausing after each race to return to their new favorite activity—kissing on his comfortable sofa.

By the time Rey had to bike home, her lips were slightly swollen and her heart was so full she thought it might burst. She'd discovered something wonderful tonight, something that made her feel beautiful and wanted and completely herself.

And Ben—Ben had been so patient, so gentle, so perfectly understanding about all her insecurities. As she pedaled home under the streetlights, Rey couldn't stop smiling. This was what it felt like to be falling in love, and it was even better than all the books had promised.

The next weekend, Rey didn't really have plans for Saturday, but knowing Ben's parents were still gone until Sunday, she decided to call him.

"Want to come over?" Ben asked immediately when he heard her voice. "We could play games, read books... and other stuff."

Rey felt her cheeks warm at the way he said "other stuff." "Yes, definitely yes to all of that."

She told Maz she'd be spending the day at a friend's place and biked over to Ben's house, her heart racing with anticipation.

They started out with good intentions—Ben had set up a new game, and there were books stacked on his coffee table. But somehow they ended up on his sofa, controllers forgotten on the floor, completely absorbed in each other.

Ben gently pulled Rey on top of him so she was straddling his lap, and they continued their make-out session from this new position. He paused from kissing her to murmur, "You're getting so much better at this."

Rey giggled and immediately dove back to his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Their heads tilted as their mouths opened and closed against each other repeatedly, lost in the rhythm they'd discovered.

Rey got so caught up in kissing him and the way their tongues moved together that she didn't realize she'd started rolling her hips against him. Ben groaned softly and pulled her waist closer, encouraging the movement that felt incredibly good to both of them.

They were completely lost in each other, two teenagers overwhelmed by new sensations and hormones, when Ben's bedroom door suddenly opened.

"BEN!!" a woman's voice shouted.

They jumped apart instantly, lips red and swollen, eyes wide with shock. Ben looked toward the door and saw his mother standing there.

"Mom!" he said, scrambling to sit up properly. "What are you doing here?"

Leia looked back and forth between them, taking in their disheveled appearance. "Pft, and here I was feeling bad about leaving you home alone, but turns out you already had other plans, huh?"

Both teens blushed furiously as Ben got up to make introductions. "Mom, this is Rey. Rey, this is my mother, Leia."

Leia's expression immediately softened as she looked at Rey. "It's wonderful to meet you! Oh, you are so adorable."

She turned back to Ben with a knowing smile. "At least I know your eyes work, even if your ears don't."

Rey wasn't sure whether to laugh or disappear into the couch cushions. This was definitely not how she'd imagined meeting Ben's mother for the first time.

"Come on," Ben said, standing up and offering Rey his hand. "Let's go to the kitchen."

In the kitchen, they found Ben's father unpacking groceries. He was tall like Ben, with graying hair and kind eyes that crinkled when he smiled.

"Dad, this is Rey," Ben said. "Rey, this is my father, Han."

"Nice to meet you," Han said, extending his hand with a warm smile. Then he winked at Ben and grinned. "Atta boy, I was wondering when you were finally going to get a girlfriend."

"Dad!" Ben blushed furiously and punched his father's arm. "Stop it!"

Leia laughed from where she was already pulling ingredients from the pantry. "I'll make everyone lunch using an old family recipe," she announced. "Rey, I hope you like pasta."

They sat down to eat together, and Rey found herself surprisingly comfortable with Ben's parents despite the awkward introduction. Han told embarrassing stories about Ben's childhood, while Leia asked Rey about school and her interests. When it was time to leave, Ben insisted on biking with Rey back to her place.

Once they arrived at her front steps, Ben bent down to kiss her lips again. Rey smiled and kissed him back, then pulled away slightly.

"So I'm your girlfriend, huh?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Ben blushed. "I thought it was kind of obvious..."

Rey giggled and pulled him down for another kiss. This goodbye kiss was taking a little longer than usual when suddenly the front door whipped open.

Maz stood there, staring at both of them. "I thought you said you were at a friend's place?"

Rey blushed deeply. "Uhh, yeah... this is Ben... my, uh... boy-friend."

Maz glared at Ben, then turned back to Rey. "A heads up about you having a boyfriend would have been nice."

"Sorry," Rey said quietly. "We were still figuring things out..."

Maz shook her head. "Fine, fine. Go on in." She turned to Ben with a stern expression. "Young man, you best be nice to my angel."

Ben nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Very well. Good night then." Maz stepped aside to let Rey in, then closed the door.

Inside the house, Maz smirked at Rey. "Sooo... you have a boyfriend, huh? is that where you've been running off to?"

Rey's face turned even redder. "Good night!" she called out, hurrying toward her room.

As she closed her bedroom door behind her, Rey couldn't help but smile. Despite all the embarrassing interruptions, it had been a perfect day. She was Ben's girlfriend now—officially

Chapter Text

When Rey walked into school on Monday, everything felt different. The hallways were the same, the noisy lockers still slammed, and the usual suspects still crowded the main entrance, but she moved through it all with a newfound confidence. The shy freshman with braces was still there, but she now walked with her chin up, no longer trying to disappear.

"Someone's in a good mood," Rose commented when Rey met her at their usual spot by the water fountain. "Could it have anything to do with a certain tall, dark-haired junior?"

Rey couldn't contain her smile. "Maybe."

"Spill!" Rose demanded, grabbing Rey's arm. "You've been avoiding my texts all weekend!"

Before Rey could answer, Finn joined them, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder. "Hey, what's with the interrogation?"

"Rey's dating Ben Solo," Rose announced, as if revealing a state secret.

Finn's eyes widened. "Seriously? Like, officially?"

Rey felt her cheeks warm but nodded. "His parents kind of caught us... um... kissing. And then his dad called me his girlfriend, and Ben didn't correct him, so..." She shrugged, trying to seem casual despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"Wait, his parents caught you making out?" Finn laughed. "That's mortifying!"

"It wasn't that bad," Rey protested. "They were actually really nice about it."

"So are you sitting with him at lunch now?" Rose asked. "Moving up to the cool kids' table?"

Rey hadn't thought about that. Would Ben expect her to sit with him and his friends? Would she be welcome there? "I don't know," she admitted. "We didn't really talk about it."

As if summoned by their conversation, Ben appeared at the end of the hallway. He was talking to Hux about something, gesturing animatedly with his hands. When he spotted Rey, his entire face lit up.

"Oh my god, he's coming over," Rose whispered urgently. "Act natural!"

"What does that even mean?" Finn hissed back, but straightened his posture anyway.

Ben approached their little group, seeming oblivious to the way Rose and Finn were staring at him. "Morning," he said to Rey, his voice soft in a way that made her stomach flip.

"Hi," Rey replied, suddenly shy despite everything they'd shared over the weekend.

There was an awkward pause as Ben glanced at Rose and Finn. "Hey," he said with a nod.

"Hi," they responded in unison, then looked at each other and stifled nervous laughter.

Ben turned back to Rey. "I was wondering if you wanted to sit with us at lunch today? Phasma and Hux know we're... you know..." He trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Dating?" Rey supplied, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"Yeah," Ben said, his own smile matching hers. "Dating."

The word hung in the air between them, making everything else fade into the background.

"I'd like that," Rey said. "But can Rose and Finn come too?"

Ben looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. "Of course. The more the merrier, right?"

Rose made a small squeaking sound that she quickly covered with a cough. "Cool, thanks."

"Great," Ben said. "I should get to class, but I'll see you later?"

Rey nodded, and Ben hesitated for a moment before leaning down to press a quick kiss to her cheek. As he walked away, Rey could hear the whispers starting around them.

"Did that just happen?" Finn asked, his voice slightly higher than normal.

Rey touched her cheek where Ben's lips had been, feeling like she might float away. "Yeah," she said softly. "It did."

The cafeteria was buzzing with its usual midday chaos when Rey entered with Rose and Finn. She spotted Ben at his usual table, sitting with Phasma and Hux. Her stomach tightened with nerves as she approached, suddenly aware of how many eyes were following her progress across the room.

"Look who's here," Phasma said as they arrived at the table, her tone neutral but her eyes curious.

"Hey," Ben said, scooting over to make room for Rey beside him. "Glad you guys could join us."

Rey slid into the seat next to Ben, while Rose and Finn took the remaining spaces across from them. For a moment, no one spoke, the awkwardness thick enough to cut with a knife.

"So," Hux said finally, "this is happening, huh?" He gestured between Ben and Rey.

"Yep," Ben said simply, placing his hand on the table next to Rey's, their fingers barely touching.

Phasma studied Rey with renewed interest. "You know, I had a feeling about you two from the beginning."

"No you didn't," Hux scoffed. "You thought it was hilarious when we first noticed her crush."

"Well, yeah," Phasma admitted with a shrug. "But then I saw how Ben kept staring at her when he thought no one was looking."

Ben's ears turned red. "I did not stare."

"You absolutely did," Hux confirmed. "It was pathetic."

Rey felt a warm glow spread through her chest. Ben had been watching her too, even before they started talking.

"So, Rose, Finn," Phasma said, turning her attention to the other freshmen. "Tell us about yourselves. What are you into?"

The conversation flowed more easily than Rey had expected. Hux and Finn discovered a shared interest in the same obscure sci-fi show. Ben remained mostly quiet, content to listen and occasionally squeeze Rey's hand when something amused him.

By the time lunch ended, the initial awkwardness had dissolved into something that felt surprisingly natural. As they all stood to head to their afternoon classes, Phasma turned to Rey.

"You should join us for movie night this Friday," she said. "We do it at Ben's place every couple of weeks. Rose and Finn can come too."

Rey looked at Ben, who nodded encouragingly. "Yeah, my parents actually suggested it. I think they want to see you again under more... supervised circumstances."

Rey blushed at the memory but nodded. "I'd like that. We all would, right guys?"

Rose and Finn nodded enthusiastically, clearly thrilled to be included.

As they parted ways in the hallway, Ben caught Rey's hand one more time. "See you in the library later?"

"Our usual spot," Rey confirmed with a smile.

Friday night arrived. She stood on Ben's doorstep with Rose and Finn flanking her, all three of them clutching snacks they'd insisted on bringing despite Ben telling them it wasn't necessary.

"Do I look okay?" Rey asked nervously, tugging at the hem of her oversized sweater.

"For the fifth time, yes," Rose assured her, reaching out to adjust Rey's hair.

Finn rang the doorbell before Rey could second-guess herself again. "Too late to back out now," he said with a grin.

The door swung open to reveal Phasma, looking casual in jeans and a tank top instead of her usual school attire. "Hey, you made it!" she said, stepping aside with a welcoming gesture. "Come on in."

They followed her into the house, the smell of buttery popcorn filling the air. Rey could hear voices coming from the kitchen, and her heart did its familiar flutter when she recognized Ben's deep laugh.

"The guys are in there," Phasma said, pointing toward the kitchen. "Ben's been checking his watch every five minutes waiting for you."

Rey blushed and handed Phasma the bag of chips she'd brought. "For the snack pile."

"Perfect," Phasma said, taking their offerings. "Living room's that way. Make yourselves comfortable while I grab drinks."

Rey led the way toward the kitchen, where Hux was pouring freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl while Ben leaned against the counter, the two of them laughing about something.

When Ben spotted Rey in the doorway, his face lit up instantly. She couldn't help the wide smile that spread across her own face as she walked over to him.

"Hi," she said, suddenly feeling shy despite having texted him all day.

"You're here!" Ben grinned, straightening up from his casual lean. Without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a quick hug.

"Careful, Solo," Hux teased, "your cool-guy image is crumbling with all that enthusiasm."

Ben rolled his eyes but didn't let go of Rey. "Shut up and finish the popcorn."

They all migrated to the living room, where Phasma had already set up the TV and was scrolling through a streaming service's options.

"Alright, what are we watching?" she asked as everyone settled onto the oversized sectional.

"Something with explosions," Hux suggested, setting the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

"Marvel," Finn agreed immediately. "The new Thor movie just dropped online."

"Not another superhero movie," Rose groaned. "We watched one last time we had movie night at Finn's."

"I was thinking something classic," Phasma said, still scrolling. "Maybe that new psychological thriller everyone's been talking about?"

"I'd rather not have nightmares," Rey admitted.

The debate continued for several minutes, with Finn and Hux adamantly defending the honor of Marvel movies while Rose and Phasma advocated for literally anything else. Ben occasionally offered suggestions that were immediately shot down by one side or the other.

"Let's just vote," Ben finally said.

"Fine," Hux conceded. "All in favor of Thor, raise your hand."

Hux, Finn, and Ben raised their hands.

"All opposed?" Phasma asked.

She, Rose, and Rey raised their hands.

"It's a tie," Finn pointed out.

"Actually," Ben said, slowly lowering his hand, "I think I'm switching sides. Let the girls pick."

"Traitor!" Hux accused, throwing a piece of popcorn at Ben's head.

"Smart man," Phasma corrected with a smirk.

After another round of debate, they finally settled on a romantic comedy that promised enough humor to keep everyone entertained. As Phasma hit play and the opening credits began, Rey realized she was wedged uncomfortably between Rose and the armrest, with barely enough room to breathe.

"This couch seemed bigger when it was empty," she whispered to Rose, trying to adjust herself without disturbing everyone.

"This is ridiculous," Rey whispered, trying to shift into a more comfortable position as Finn accidentally elbowed her for the third time. "I can barely move."

Ben, who was sitting on the other side of Finn, seemed to notice her discomfort. Without saying a word, he stood up and moved to stand in front of her.

"Here, come sit," he said, gently pulling her up from her cramped spot. Before Rey could respond, he settled back into his original seat and guided her onto his lap.

Rey felt her face grow hot as she tentatively leaned back against his chest. Ben immediately wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her more securely against him. His chin rested lightly on top of her head, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Rose caught Rey's eye and snickered, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Shhh, it's starting," Hux said from the other end of the couch, though his stern tone was undermined by the amused glance he shot in their direction.

Rey gradually relaxed into Ben's embrace, her initial embarrassment fading as the movie progressed. His arms around her felt safe and warm, and when he occasionally whispered comments about the film directly into her ear, his breath tickling her neck, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

As the movie progressed, Rey noticed that no one was really watching it anymore. Phasma and Hux were quietly debating the logic of the main character's decisions, while Finn and Rose had fallen into a whispered conversation about their upcoming science project.

"Want to sneak out to the kitchen for a minute?" Ben murmured against her ear, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Rey nodded, and they carefully extracted themselves from the couch, Ben keeping a gentle hand at the small of her back as they slipped away. None of their friends seemed to notice their departure, too engrossed in their own conversations.

In the kitchen he pulled her closer to him, "I've been wanting to do this since you walked in," he said softly, bending down to press his lips to hers.

Rey smiled against his mouth, rising on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. "Me too."

"HEY LOVEBIRDS!" Phasma's voice suddenly echoed from the living room. "Quit making out in there! You're missing the best part of the movie!"

They jumped apart instantly, both of their faces flushing deep crimson, they shuffled back to the living room where their friends were.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, Ben texted Rey with a message that made her heart flutter.

"I think it's time I take you out on a date. Like a real one. Dinner at Takodana Bistro tomorrow night? I'll pick you up at 6."

Rey stared at her phone, reading and rereading the message at least ten times before typing back a simple "Yes! I'd love that!" though her fingers trembled with excitement. A proper date. Not just hanging out at each other's houses or the bookstore or school events. A real, grown-up date at an actual restaurant.

The next day after school, Rey rushed home and immediately began rummaging through her closet, tossing clothes onto her bed in a growing pile of discarded options.

"Nothing's right!" she groaned when Rose arrived to help her get ready. "Everything I own is either too childish or too casual or just... wrong."

Rose surveyed the clothing disaster zone with a critical eye before diving into the pile. "Let's see... this skirt could work, and maybe this top? The blue brings out your eyes."

By the time they settled on an outfit—a knee-length navy skirt and a cream-colored blouse that Rose insisted made Rey look "sophisticated yet approachable"—Rey was already moving on to her next concern: makeup.

"I need to cover all of this," she said, gesturing frantically at her face in the bathroom mirror. "Every single spot."

Rose watched as Rey began applying foundation with a heavy hand, layering it on until her skin looked unnaturally smooth and several shades too pale.

"Whoa, Rey, slow down," Rose said, gently taking the makeup sponge from her friend's hand. "You're going overboard."

"But my acne—"

"Is part of you, and Ben already knows what you look like," Rose said firmly. "He's seen you with no makeup at all, remember? And he still thinks you're beautiful."

Rey bit her lip, leaving a smear of too-bright lipstick on her teeth. "I just want to look perfect for him. This is our first real date."

"Here," Rose said, grabbing a makeup wipe. "Let me help."

Rose carefully removed most of the heavy foundation, replacing it with a lighter application that covered the worst of Rey's acne while still allowing her natural skin to show through. She used a subtle eyeshadow to enhance Rey's hazel eyes and finished with a softer shade of lip gloss.

"There," Rose said, stepping back to admire her work. "You still look like you, just... enhanced."

Rey studied her reflection, admitting that Rose was right. She looked fresher, prettier, but still recognizably herself.

"Now for the final touch," Rey said, disappearing into her bedroom and returning with a shopping bag.

"What's that?" Rose asked.

Rey pulled out a padded push-up bra, her cheeks flushing pink. "I bought it yesterday. Do you think it's too much?"

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what you're trying to accomplish."

"I just... I'm so flat," Rey admitted, looking down at her chest. "I want to look more... you know... grown-up."

Rose shrugged. "If it makes you feel more confident, go for it. Just don't be surprised if he notices."

"You think he will?" Rey asked, suddenly panicking.

"Only if he's paying attention," Rose said with a grin. "Which, let's be honest, he probably will be."

Despite her friend's teasing, Rey decided to wear the push-up bra anyway. Looking at herself in the mirror after changing, she had to admit the difference was noticeable—not dramatic, but definitely an enhancement to her usually flat silhouette.

"Hopefully he won't realize it's all padding," she whispered to her reflection.

The doorbell rang at exactly six o'clock, sending Rey into a fresh wave of panic.

"He's here!" she squeaked, grabbing Rose's arm. "How do I look? Is my hair okay? Should I change the bra?"

"You look cute," Rose assured her, guiding her toward the door. "Now go have fun on your date."

Rey took a deep breath and walked into the living room, where Maz was already answering the door. Ben stood in the doorway looking more handsome than usual in dark jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair neatly combed for once.

His eyes widened slightly when he saw Rey, a smile spreading across his face. "Wow," he said softly. "You look amazing."

Rey blushed, suddenly very aware of the push-up bra and the way his eyes had briefly flickered to her chest before returning to her face. "Thanks. You look nice too."

Maz cleared her throat loudly, drawing their attention. "Now listen here, young man," she said, fixing Ben with a stern look. "I expect her back by nine o'clock. No later. And no funny business, you understand?"

Ben straightened his posture immediately, nodding with surprising solemnity. "Yes, ma'am. Nine o'clock sharp. No funny business."

Rey wanted to die of embarrassment, but Ben seemed to take Maz's warning in stride, even offering her a respectful smile.

"Don't worry," he added. "I'll take good care of her."

"See that you do," Maz replied, but there was a hint of approval in her voice.

As they walked to Ben's car, Rey felt his hand brush against hers before their fingers intertwined.

"Your aunt is intense," he commented with a soft laugh.

"Sorry about that," Rey said, still mortified. "She's just protective."

"Don't apologize," Ben said, opening the passenger door for her. "I think it's nice that she cares about you so much."

As Rey settled into the seat, she noticed Ben's eyes flicker to her chest again before he quickly looked away, his ears turning slightly red. So he had noticed the difference. But instead of commenting, he simply smiled and closed her door, walking around to the driver's side.

The restaurant was more elegant than Rey had expected, with soft lighting and cloth napkins folded into fancy shapes. She felt a moment of panic, wondering if she was underdressed, but Ben squeezed her hand reassuringly as the hostess led them to a corner table.

"I've never been anywhere this nice," Rey admitted in a whisper as she studied the menu with growing alarm. "Ben, everything is so expensive."

"Don't worry about it," Ben said, his eyes warm as he looked at her over his menu. "My dad gave me some extra money for tonight. He said proper dates deserve proper treatment."

Rey's heart fluttered at the thought of Ben's father helping him plan their evening. "Your parents know about this?"

"They've been giving me advice all week," Ben admitted with a sheepish grin. "Dad suggested the restaurant, and Mom helped me pick out this shirt."

The idea that Ben's family was so invested in their relationship made Rey feel warm inside. They ordered their food—Rey choosing pasta because it seemed safest—and fell into easy conversation.

"I like your makeup," Ben said during a lull. "It's nice, more light."

Rey touched her cheek self-consciously. "Rose helped me. I was going a bit overboard before she stepped in."

Ben smiled. "You always look pretty to me, you know. With or without makeup."

"And, um," Ben continued, his eyes briefly dipping downward before meeting hers again, "you look really nice tonight. All of you."

Rey felt her face heat up as she realized he was definitely referring to her enhanced figure. "I—thank you," she managed, wondering if she should confess about the padded bra or just accept the compliment.

Before she could decide, their food arrived, saving her from having to respond further. As they ate, Rey found herself relaxing, the initial nervousness fading as they slipped into their familiar rhythm of conversation about books, movies, and school.

When the check came, Ben insisted on paying, proudly pulling out the money his father had given him. Rey watched him count out the bills, including a generous tip.

They left the restaurant with their hands linked, walking slowly back to Ben's car. The evening air was cool, and Rey found herself leaning into Ben's warmth.

"We still have an hour before I have to get you home," Ben said, checking his watch. "Want to go for a walk? There's a nice park nearby."

The park was quiet, with fairy lights strung through the trees along the main pathway. They strolled together, talking softly, until they found a secluded bench overlooking a small pond.

"This has been the best date ever," Rey said as they sat down, her head resting on Ben's shoulder.

Ben laughed softly. "It's our first one."

"Plenty more, right?," She asked tilting her face up to look at him.

"Of course"

 He leaned down slowly, and Rey's eyes fluttered closed as their lips met in a soft kiss. Unlike their more heated moments in private, this kiss was gentle and sweet, a perfect ending to their evening.

When they pulled apart, Ben kept his forehead pressed against hers. "I should probably get you home soon."

Rey's lower lip jutted out slightly as she looked up at him through her lashes. "But we still have some time before nine," she said, her voice soft and playful. "Maybe we could stay at the car for just a little while? For a few more kisses?"

The way she asked, with that hopeful gleam in her eyes and the slight tilt of her head, made Ben's resolve crumble instantly. He was only sixteen after all, and the thought of a few more minutes with Rey's lips against his was impossible to resist.

"I guess a few more minutes wouldn't hurt," he conceded with a smile, taking her hand as they walked back toward the parking lot.

When they reached his car, Ben opened the passenger door for Rey, but instead of getting in, she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. Ben's breath caught in his throat as he felt the unfamiliar pressure of her enhanced chest against him.

"Hi," she whispered, her face inches from his.

"Hi," he whispered back, his hands finding her waist.

Their lips met again, Rey's fingers tangled in his hair, and Ben found himself backing her gently against the car door, one hand moving to cup her face while the other remained firmly on her waist.

The world around them faded away—the distant traffic, the occasional passerby, the time ticking closer to Rey's curfew—all of it vanished as they lost themselves in each other. Rey made a small sound of contentment against his mouth that sent a shiver down Ben's spine.

Perhaps emboldened by her response, Ben's hand gradually moved up her side, fingers trembling slightly as they inched higher until he cupped what he thought was her breast. His brow furrowed at the unexpected texture beneath his palm.

"Uhh?" he broke the kiss, confusion evident on his face.

Rey squeaked and jumped back, arms flying to cross protectively over her chest. "Don't touch!" Her voice came out higher than she intended.

"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean—I-I—" Ben stammered, his face turning crimson as he leaned back, hands raised in surrender.

Rey covered her face with her hands, mortification washing over her in waves. "This is so embarrassing," she mumbled through her fingers.

Ben cleared his throat awkwardly. "Are you... wearing padding?"

Still hiding behind her hands, Rey gave a tiny nod, too humiliated to look at him.

The silence stretched between them for what felt like eternity before she heard it—a soft chuckle that gradually grew into a gentle laugh.

Rey peeked through her fingers to see Ben smiling, his eyes warm with affection rather than mockery. "It's not funny!" she protested, pouting. "I wanted to look good for you."

"You do look good, Rey," Ben said, still laughing softly. "But is the padding really necessary?"

Rey crossed her arms tightly over her chest and turned away, her face burning. "I don't really have much... assets," she admitted in a small voice.

Ben paused, and when he spoke again, his voice had dropped to a nervous whisper. "Can I... can I check myself?"

Rey's eyes widened as she slowly turned back to face him. "What?"

"I mean—" Ben ran a hand through his hair, looking equally embarrassed. "I like you exactly how you are, Rey. You don't need to change anything about yourself for me."

Rey bit her lip, studying his face for any sign of disappointment. "You really mean that? You don't mind that I'm... small?"

"Of course not," Ben said, reaching out to take her hand. "I like you for you—your mind, your smile, the way you get excited about books... not because of, um, your chest size."

Rey felt her face getting hotter. "That's.. that’s... Okay"

Ben pulled her gently into a hug, careful to keep his hands respectfully on her back. "Besides," he whispered near her ear, "it was kind of distracting trying to figure out if you'd grown overnight."

Rey laughed despite herself, the tension dissolving as she relaxed against him. "Rose said you'd notice."

"I'm a guy, Rey. Of course I noticed."

Rey looked down at herself, then back up at Ben, her cheeks burning with a blush that spread down her neck. She glanced nervously to her left and right, checking if anyone might be watching them in the parking lot.

"Let's get in the car," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Ben gulped, not entirely sure if it was from nervousness or excitement as his heart hammered against his ribs. Without hesitation, he opened the back door for her, then quickly circled around to the other side. Rey slid across the seat, and Ben followed, closing the door behind him with a soft thud.

When they were both inside and the doors locked with a reassuring click, Ben silently thanked his parents for insisting on tinted windows when they'd handed down the car to him. The privacy felt like a blessing now.

Rey sat beside him, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, her face still flushed as she stared at her hands in her lap. After a moment of tense silence, she looked up at him through her lashes.

"You... you can... inspect... if you want," she murmured, her voice catching on the words. "So you can see I'm not lying about... you know."

Ben's breath caught in his throat. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Rey nodded, biting her lower lip. "Just... be gentle?"

With trembling fingers, Ben reached out and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. She leaned into his touch, and he slowly moved his hand down until it rested just above her collarbone.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

"Yes," Rey breathed, closing her eyes.

With gentle movements, Ben's fingers found the thin strap of her blouse, hesitating for just a moment before carefully sliding it down her shoulder. Rey's breath quickened as she reached up to help, her own trembling fingers pulling at the cup of her padded bra, lifting it slightly to expose the small swell of her breast beneath.

The air in the car felt electric as Ben cautiously reached out, his palm hovering for a heartbeat before gently cupping the soft flesh. His touch was feather-light as he explored the delicate weight in his hand, his eyes widening with wonder rather than disappointment.

"See?" Rey whispered, her cheeks burning crimson as she watched his face. "Not much there to get excited about."

Ben swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing visibly. "It's plenty enough,"

She smiled shyly at his words. Ben leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her lips, his hand still gently cradling her breast.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, leaning forward to press his lips to her shoulder, then the hollow of her throat. "Perfect."

Rey shivered, her eyes fluttering closed as his lips traced a path along her collarbone.

The drive back to her apartment was quiet, their hands intertwined on the center console. When they arrived, Ben walked her to the door.

"Nine o'clock exactly," he told Maz proudly when she opened the door, though his ears were still slightly pink.

Maz looked between them suspiciously, taking in Rey's flushed cheeks. "Hmm," was all she said, but her raised eyebrow spoke volumes.

"Goodnight, Ben," Rey said, standing on her tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "Text me when you get home."

Chapter Text

Rey and Ben had been dating for several of months now, and their friend groups had naturally started mingling together. Rose and Finn had become fast friends with Phasma and Hux, creating a larger circle that felt comfortable and natural.

For Rey's 15th birthday, the whole friend group was sprawled out on blankets in the park, enjoying sandwiches and the warm afternoon sun. Phasma was feeding Hux grapes, which he claimed "Taste's better when you feed them to me."

Rey and Ben rolled their eyes in unison at the display.

"You two are ridiculous," Rey called out, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Says the girl who cuts the crusts off her boyfriend's sandwiches," Phasma shot back with a smirk.

Meanwhile, Rose and Finn were animatedly discussing the latest book club selection with Rey and Ben. Since Ben had joined their group, their discussions had become even more engaging, with his insights adding new depth to their conversations.

"I still can't believe you predicted that plot twist," Rose said to Ben. "I was completely blindsided."

"The foreshadowing was pretty subtle," Ben admitted. "But once you notice the pattern..."

As everyone began packing up to leave, Ben hung back with Rey, suddenly looking curious about something.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Ben said, taking her hand. "Why did you have a crush on me anyway?"

Rey turned scarlet. "Wait, did someone tell you?"

"Phasma mentioned it," Ben said with a grin. "She heard it from Bazine."

Rey buried her face in her hands. "Oh, I didn't know you knew."

Ben started tickling her ribs playfully. "Come on, tell me! Why me?"

Rey giggled and grabbed his arms to stop the tickling. "Fine! Fine!" She took a deep breath. "I was at a book fair once, and you were there. I didn't know you, but there was a group of boys who smacked the books I was getting right out of my hands onto the floor and laughed at me. They just left me there, but you came out of nowhere and picked them all up for me. Remember? It was back in 8th grade. You started talking about one of the books you were picking up and telling me about it, you were... just really nice to me."

Ben frowned, trying to recall. "Which book fair was this again?"

"The one by the old community center," Rey said softly.

Ben's eyebrows shot up as the memory came flooding back. "Oh! I remember now. I went with my mom—I was bored out of my mind. There was this little girl who needed help..." He looked at Rey with new understanding. "That was you?"

Rey nodded, still blushing.

Ben grinned and ruffled her hair. "You're still a little squirt."

"Hey!" Rey growled, swatting at him. "I grew two inches this summer!"

Ben kissed her forehead tenderly. "Of course you did."

Maz had laid down some new rules. "If you're going to be hanging around with this boyfriend of yours," she'd said firmly, "it'll be here at our place, not at his. I learned his parents travel a lot for work, and I'd prefer knowing you're safe at home where I can reach you if needed."

"Fine, sure," Rey had agreed, though she'd blushed at Maz calling Ben her boyfriend so matter-of-factly.

So when Ben showed up at her place the following week, Rey gave him a tour of their small apartment and her tiny bedroom.

"There's no sofa for us to sit on," Rey said apologetically, gesturing around the cramped space.

"You have that," Ben said, pointing to her bed.

Rey blushed. "I mean, we could sit there and read together..."

"Yeah, we could do that," Ben winked at her.

Rey grabbed her current book with pink cheeks, and they both settled on her bed side by side. Ben pulled her close to his side as she opened to her bookmark.

It was fine at first. Rey read while Ben listened, occasionally commenting on a particularly good passage. But then he started kissing her forehead, which was sweet and didn't interfere with her reading.

The problem came when he started kissing her neck. A lot. Over and over until Rey finally tossed the book aside and threw herself at him, capturing his lips hungrily.

Ben chuckled against her mouth and eagerly returned her kisses, pulling her closer. They ended up lying on their sides, facing each other. His hands ran down her legs and back up to caress her back and sides.

Rey hummed contentedly against his lips before pulling back slightly. "This is almost better than reading."

Ben smiled. "What would be better?"

"Don't know, don't care," Rey said, diving back in to kiss him.

Her hands ran through his dark hair, pulling him closer. Ben gently rolled her onto her back and supported himself on his elbows as he kissed her again.

"Will Maz come in?" he whispered.

"I don't think so," Rey whispered back. "She doesn't usually bother me."

Ben smiled and returned to kissing her, his hands drifting to explore new territory. When he asked permission with gentle touches and whispered questions, Rey nodded and guided him, showing him what felt nice.

"I've never... someone else has never..." she whispered shyly.

"Show me?" Ben asked softly.

Rey took his hand and helped guide him, teaching him what she liked. When he copied her movements, she sighed happily.

"Yes, that's nice right there," she whispered.

Ben continued his gentle ministrations while kissing her neck and telling her how beautiful she was. When she finally relaxed completely against him, she smiled up at his face.

"Maybe I can help you feel good next time?" she whispered.

Ben nodded quickly. "Yes, please."

The next day after school, Rey and Rose were sprawled across Rose's bedroom floor working on their math homework. Rey couldn't stop humming a cheerful tune, swinging her feet in the air as she lay on her stomach, pencil tapping against her textbook.

"Rey," Rose sighed, putting down her calculator. "Your humming is totally distracting me from these equations."

Rey grinned, not stopping her melody. "Too bad. I'm just in a really good mood today."

"I've noticed," Rose said, sitting up and giving Rey a knowing look. "Look at you trying to act all grown up now that you have a boyfriend." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "So... have you two done other things besides making out yet?"

Rey's pencil froze mid-tap. Her cheeks instantly turned crimson as she avoided Rose's gaze. "We, uhh... we touch each other sometimes," she mumbled, suddenly finding her math problems fascinating.

Rose's eyes widened with delight. "Oh come on, nothing else? Not even... you know, handies?"

"Rose!" Rey hissed, glancing toward the door to make sure Rose's parents weren't nearby. "That's private!"

"So that's a yes," Rose concluded triumphantly. "Oh my god, Rey! I want to know!"

Rey buried her face in her textbook. "There are no details to share."

"Liar," Rose said, poking Rey's shoulder. "Your face is redder than that time you had that allergic reaction to strawberries."

Rey peeked up from her book. "Fine. Maybe we've... explored a little. But I'm not giving you a play-by-play!"

"Fair enough," Rose conceded. "But was it good? Are you being safe? Did he pressure you?"

"Yes, yes, and absolutely not," Rey answered, sitting up properly. " He always asks first, and he's so patient..." She trailed off, a small smile playing on her lips.

Rose leaned forward, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "So... do you two plan on going further? You know, all the way?" She made an obscene gesture with her hands that made Rey gasp.

"Rose!" Her face burned hot enough to melt steel. "No! I mean—I don't know. Not yet. I haven't really thought about it."

"Liar," Rose teased. "You've totally thought about it."

Rey hugged her textbook to her chest like a shield. "Okay, maybe I've thought about it a little. But I'm nervous. What if I'm terrible at it? What if it hurts? What if I do something embarrassing?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "What if he sees me naked and changes his mind?"

Rose rolled her eyes “I doubt he will change his mind after looking at a girl naked if you two are already being handsy with eachother”

"Maybe," Rey conceded, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. "I do enjoy what we've been doing so far though. The little bits we have with each other. It feels... nice."

"That's good," Rose said, her teasing tone replaced with genuine warmth. "There's no rush, you know. You can take your time figuring things out."

Rey nodded, grateful for her friend's understanding. "I think Ben feels the same way. He never pushes. Sometimes I think he might be even more nervous than I am."

"Boys are weird like that," Rose agreed. "They act all confident, but deep down they're terrified of messing up."

They fell into a comfortable silence, returning to their math homework. Rey tried to focus on the equations, but her mind kept drifting back to the subject.

"Rose?" she said after a while.

"Hmm?"

"How do you know when you're ready? For... you know."

Rose looked up, her expression thoughtful. "I think when the idea of it makes you excited instead of scared. When you trust the person completely. When you're not worried about what happens after."

Rey absorbed this, nodding slowly. "That makes sense."

"Although," Rose said, suddenly serious. "When it does happen—if it happens—you'll be careful. Like, protection and all that."

"I promise," Rey said solemnly. "Aunt Maz actually gave me the talk a few weeks ago. It was mortifying”

Rose snorted. "I bet. My mom just handed me a book and said 'ask me if you have questions.' I had so many questions, but I was too embarrassed to ask any of them." They dissolved into giggles right after.

Rose's teasing expression softened. "I'm happy for you, Rey. Seriously. You deserve someone who treats you well."

"Thanks," Rey said, her embarrassment fading. "It's all so new, you know? I never thought someone like Ben would even notice me, let alone want to be with me."

"Are you kidding? You're amazing," Rose said firmly. "And the way he looks at you? He absolutely adores you and why wouldn’t he?"

Rey laughed, throwing her eraser at Rose. "Shut up."

"Never," Rose grinned, catching the eraser. "Now, can we please finish this math homework before Mr. Akbar fails us both?"

"Fine," Rey agreed, returning to her textbook with a smile she couldn't quite suppress.

Ben checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time, his thumb hovering over the send button. His parents had left early that morning for another conference, this one lasting the entire weekend. The house felt too quiet, too empty, and all he could think about was Rey.

He sent her a text, finally hitting send on the message he'd been crafting.

When his phone buzzed with her reply just minutes later, his heart leaped. She was free until seven, when her aunt was back from work. That gave them almost five hours together.

Twenty minutes later, Rey was at his doorstep, her cheeks flushed from biking over, her hair slightly windblown in a way that made Ben want to run his fingers through it.

"smiling up at him as he opened the door “I came as fast as I could”

Stepping aside to let her in. "Thanks for coming over."

"Like I'd pass up a chance to hang out with you," Rey said, dropping her backpack by the door. "So what's the plan? More reading? Another movie?"

Ben led her to the living room where he'd already set up his laptop. "Actually, I was thinking we could try something different. Have you ever watched anime?"

Rey shook her head. "Not really. I mean, I've seen clips and stuff online, but I've never sat down and watched a full series."

"I think you might like this one," Ben said, patting the spot next to him on the sofa. "It's about a girl who finds this magical book that transports her to another world. There's adventure, fantasy elements, some really beautiful animation..."

Rey settled beside him, tucking her feet underneath her. "Sounds fun. What's it called?"

"Fushigi Yûgi," Ben said, clicking play on the first episode. "It's a classic. The art style is a bit older, but the story is amazing."

As the opening sequence began playing, Rey leaned her head against Ben's shoulder. "I'm sure it's great if you like it so much."

Ben glanced down at her, noting the way she was already focusing intently on the screen despite her initial hesitation. He knew their tastes in books were often different—she preferred romance fiction and classic literature while he gravitated toward fantasy and science fiction—but he loved sharing things he enjoyed with her, watching her experience them for the first time.

"The animation looks nice," Rey commented as the first episode unfolded, her eyes wide with interest.

"Wait until you see the world-building," Ben said, his arm settling comfortably around her shoulders. "The mythology they created is really detailed."

By the third episode, Rey was completely engrossed, gasping at plot twists and asking questions about the characters. Ben found himself watching her reactions more than the show itself, delighting in her engagement with something he loved.

"We should probably take a break," Ben suggested after the fourth episode. "Want something to drink? I've got soda, juice, water..."

"Water would be great," Rey said, stretching her arms above her head. "My eyes need a rest anyway"

In the kitchen, Ben filled two glasses with ice water while Rey followed, hopping up to sit on the counter beside him.

"So, do you like it so far?" Ben asked, handing her a glass.

Rey took a long sip before answering. "I do, actually. It's not what I expected. The characters have a lot more depth than I thought they would."

"That's what I love about good anime," Ben said, leaning against the counter next to her. "People dismiss it as just cartoons, but the storytelling can be really complex."

"I can see that now," Rey admitted. "Though I still think you're never going to get me into those giant robot shows you mentioned before."

Ben laughed, setting down his glass to step between her dangling legs. "One step at a time. I'll convert you eventually."

Rey wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "You know, I don't actually mind watching this stuff with you."

"No?" Ben murmured, his hands finding her waist.

"No," Rey confirmed, her voice softening. "I just like being with you, honestly. We could be watching paint dry and I'd probably still have a good time."

"Same here," he said simply, leaning in to kiss her.

What started as a gentle kiss quickly deepened, Rey's fingers tangling in his hair as Ben pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he could feel her smile against his lips.

"We should probably get back to the show," Rey whispered after a moment, though she made no move to let him go.

"Probably," Ben agreed, trailing kisses along her jaw instead. "But I'm finding this much more interesting at the moment."

Rey giggled, tilting her head to give him better access. "The characters will still be there later, I suppose."

"Exactly," Ben murmured against her skin. "And we still have hours before your aunt gets home."

Chapter Text

Ben lifted Rey from the kitchen counter in one fluid motion, his hands supporting her weight as her legs remained wrapped around his waist. She laughed softly against his neck as he carried her back to the living room, the anime forgotten on his laptop screen.

He gently lowered her onto the couch, their bodies pressed together as they continued kissing. Rey's hands wandered across his back and under his shirt, feeling the skin beneath.

When Ben shifted to kiss her neck, Rey felt a surge of boldness. Her fingers trailed from his back to his chest and then down, hesitating at the hem of his shirt before continuing lower. She could feel his breath hitch as her hand reached his waistband.

"Ben," she whispered against his lips, her fingers playing with the drawstring of his sweatpants. Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them.

"Shall I?" The words came out in a breath, barely audible even in the quiet room.

Ben's Adam's apple bobbed. "Only if you want to,"

Rey nodded, her own nervousness evident in the way her fingers shook slightly. She tugged gently at the strings, loosening the knot. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it as her index finger slipped inside the waistband. With another deep breath, she slowly pulled the fabric down.

His boxers were stretched tight, forming a tent that made her cheeks flush crimson. She glanced up at his face again, seeking reassurance. Ben gave her a shy nod, his eyes dark with anticipation and vulnerability.

Rey hooked her thumbs into his boxers and carefully pulled them down. She gasped softly as his erection sprang free, bouncing slightly before settling upright. For several long seconds, she simply stared.

She stared at it, transfixed and uncertain. Her heart hammered in her chest as she realized she had no idea what to do next. Her face felt like it was on fire, and when she looked back at Ben, her eyes were wide with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Ben seemed to understand her hesitation. Gently, he took her hand that was still hovering by his pants and guided it toward himself. The moment her fingertips made contact with his skin, Rey let out a startled yelp and yanked her hand back as if burned.

"Sorry, I thought you wanted—" Ben started, his voice concerned.

"No, no, I do!" Rey cut him off quickly. "I just... it... it looks... I don't know what to even say. I've never seen one or touched one before." She clasped her hands together nervously in her lap, looking both embarrassed and determined.

"Okay, we can just go back to watching the show," Ben offered kindly, reaching down to pull his boxers back up.

"No, no, wait, wait!" Rey stopped him, her hand darting out. "I... I... just let me..."

She reached for him again, this time with more determination than finesse, and grabbed him.

"Not so rough!" Ben yelped, immediately cupping himself protectively with both hands.

Rey squeaked in horror and pulled back, clapping her hand over her mouth. "Sorry! Oh my god, did I break it?" Her eyes were wide with panic.

"No, no," Ben said, wincing slightly but managing a reassuring smile. "You didn't break anything. It's just... sensitive."

Rey lowered her hand from her mouth, still looking mortified. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I thought it would be... I don't know, tougher?"

Ben's pained expression gradually relaxed into a soft chuckle. "It's okay. Maybe we could try again? Just... gentler this time?"

Rey bit her lip, nodding slowly. "Show me?" she whispered.

With tender patience, Ben guided her hand back, showing her how to touch him with the right pressure. This time, when her fingers wrapped around him, she marveled at the contrasting textures—soft skin over firmness beneath.

"Like this?" she asked, her movements tentative and careful.

Ben nodded, his breathing becoming slightly uneven. "That's .. yeah that’s good."

As her confidence grew, Rey became more fascinated than nervous

"Is it okay if I...?" she gestured vaguely, curious about exploring further.

"Whatever you want," Ben assured her, his voice a touch hoarser than before.

"It's strange," Rey murmured, her fingers continuing their careful exploration. "How can it be so soft on the outside but so hard underneath? It's like... velvet over steel."

Ben's breath hitched as she continued stroking, her pace quickening slightly.

"Ah—" he winced, gently placing his hand over hers to slow her movements. "Not so fast."

Rey's eyes widened with concern. "Too rough again? I'm sorry!"

"Just a little," Ben admitted with a gentle smile. "And it's... um... kind of dry, which doesn't help."

Rey's forehead creased as she frowned thoughtfully. "Oh... Do you have any lube or something we could use?"

Ben shook his head, looking slightly embarrassed. "uhh.. I'm.. out..."

"Wait," Rey said, suddenly brightening. She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small container of lotion. "Would this work? It's just hand cream."

Ben looked at the tiny bottle, considering. "Sure?"

Rey squeezed a dollop onto her palm, warming it between her hands before returning to her previous task. As she wrapped her fingers around him again, Ben jumped slightly.

"Sorry!" Rey giggled. "Is it cold?"

"A little," Ben admitted with a sheepish laugh. "But it's nice. Much better than before."

With the added lubrication, Rey found her movements became smoother. She watched with fascination as her hand glided up and down, studying the mechanics of what she was doing.

"I can see a vein here," she announced, tapping it gently with her thumb before continuing her steady rhythm looking at the veins as well. "It runs all along this side."

Ben let his head fall back against the sofa cushions, his eyes half-closed as he surrendered to the sensations. "That feels really good," he murmured.

Encouraged by his response, Rey experimented with different techniques—sometimes using her whole hand, other times just her fingertips, varying pressure and speed to see what reactions she could elicit.

"This is so interesting," she commented, her curiosity mixing with her desire to please him. "There's hair around the base and... other parts... but not here at all. Why is that, do you think?"

Ben let out a breathless laugh. "Biology class failed to cover that particular detail,"

As Rey continued her exploration, her curiosity got the better of her. She tentatively reached down with her free hand and gently poked one of his testicles with her finger.

Ben jumped slightly, his body jerking in response. "Whoa! That tickles!"

"Oops," Rey giggled, pulling her hand back momentarily before reaching forward again. This time she touched more gently, her fingertip barely grazing the surface. "It's even softer here than... the other part."

Ben just nodded with amusement.

Rey released her grip on his erection and moved both hands to cup his scrotum gently, her eyes wide with fascination. "The skin texture is completely different," she observed. "There's more hair, but it's... I kind of like how it feels." She stroked it lightly with her thumb, exploring the wrinkled surface.

Ben rolled his eyes, though his expression remained affectionate. "You always want to learn things, don't you?"

Rey giggled and nodded, her eyes bright with curiosity. When she glanced back down, her expression changed to one of alarm. "Oh no! It deflated! What happened?" His previously firm erection had indeed softened considerably.

Ben chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Your scientific analysis of my ball sack kind of distracted me from the mood."

Rey furrowed her brows, looking genuinely disappointed in herself. "Let me go back to the main objective then." She squeezed more lotion into her palm, warming it between her hands before wrapping her fingers around his semi-hard penis and beginning to stroke it back to fullness.

"Is this better?" she asked, her movements more confident now.

"Much better," Ben sighed, his eyelids fluttering shut as he relaxed into her touch.

Rey watched with renewed fascination as her ministrations had their intended effect, his erection growing firmer with each stroke. She varied her technique, trying to remember what had seemed to work best before her little detour.

"You're getting really good at this," Ben murmured, his breath coming faster now.

"Really?" Rey beamed with pride, increasing her pace slightly. "I'm a fast learner."

Ben's hips began to move unconsciously, rising slightly to meet her strokes. "Rey, I'm... if you keep going, I'm going to..."

"That's the idea, isn't it?" she replied with newfound confidence, maintaining her rhythm.

Ben's breathing became more ragged, his hands clutching at the sofa cushions. "Rey, I'm serious, I'm about to—"

"It's okay," she assured him, watching his face with intense curiosity. "I want to see."

A moment later, Ben tensed, a strangled groan escaping his throat as his release came. Rey's eyes widened in surprise at the result she did not expect it to be so messy, but she continued her movements until he gently placed his hand over hers to stop her.

Rey stared in fascination as Ben's ejaculate flew up and landed in several white streaks across his shirt. She reached out poking at the viscous fluid with her index finger.

"Whoa," she whispered, rubbing the sticky substance between her thumb and index finger, testing its consistency with curiosity. "It's thicker than I thought it would be."

Ben glanced down at the mess on his shirt and laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I should have gotten a rag or something."

Rey shook her head and smiled. "It's alright," she said softly. She wiped her fingers on an unstained portion of his shirt. "I like learning about all this with you."

"I thought you did pretty well for your first time. But practice makes perfect, right?"

Rey's face flushed at the implication. "I suppose it does," she agreed, trying to sound casual.

"Was it good?" Rey asked, suddenly shy again despite what they'd just done.

Ben laughed breathlessly. "Couldn't you tell?"

Rey smiled, pride and embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "I guess I could."

Ben reached for some tissues from the box on the coffee table cleaning himself up a bit, "I should probably change my shirt."

"Probably," Rey agreed, "And then maybe we can finish watching the anime? I want to know what happens next."

Ben smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before standing up. "You've got it. I'll be right back."

He stood up, adjusting his boxers and sweatpants before heading to his room to change, when Ben returned wearing a fresh t-shirt, his hair slightly rumpled he pulled Rey into his chest and kissed her again.

"Thank you," She said nestling against his chest.

"For what?" He murmured.

Rey lifted her head to look at him, her expression earnest. "I like discovering things with you. It makes it less scary."

Ben smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Same here."

They did eventually return to the anime, though they spent as much time kissing as they did watching. By the time Rey needed to leave, they'd managed to finish a few more episodes between moments of distraction.

"So, wanna watch again another time?" Ben asked as he walked her to the door. 

Rey nodded, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him one more time. "Definitely. I need to know what happens next."

"With the anime or with us?" Ben teased, his arms still around her waist.

"Both," Rey answered with a grin. "Definitely both."

Chapter Text

It was another lazy summer afternoon in Ben's room (Rey told her aunt Maz she was visiting Rose). They'd started making out on his bed, hands exploring familiar territory, but as things got more heated, Rey had pulled back.

"Can we take a break?" she asked, her breathing a little uneven.

"Of course," Ben said immediately, just as he always did when she asked.

It wasn't that it didn't feel good—in fact, it felt very good. They'd fooled around plenty over the past few months. Ben had touched her with his hands and his mouth, which had been amazing. She'd even given him a hand job, which she'd been rather excited about, despite it being her first time seeing a penis in person. But whenever things got close to going further, she'd panic a little and need to stop.

Now they were cuddling on his small sofa, the movie they'd been watching playing quietly in the background. Ben kissed her cheek and asked, "Hey, what are you thinking about?"

Rey snuggled closer to him. "Nothing, nothing. Let's keep watching."

Ben didn't believe her. "Hmm," he said, pulling back to look at her face. "Rey, you're not usually this quiet during a movie. You always like to tell me random facts about the actors or the plot. So what gives?"

Rey blushed. "I'm just feeling nervous."

"Nervous about what?"

Rey took a deep breath. "I'm afraid of having sex and sucking at it and disappointing you."

Ben blinked, then gave a small laugh, pulling her closer. "Don't be nervous. We can do other things, and trust me, I won't be disappointed."

Rey mumbled into his shirt, "You also have a monster penis."

Ben laughed for real now. "A monster? Really?"

Rey hid her face deeper in his chest. Thinking about Ben's size, she honestly wasn't sure how her body could accommodate that.

Ben kissed the top of her head. "Hey, no rush, okay? I really love being with you, so we don't have to do anything if one of us isn't ready yet."

Rey nodded into his chest. "I wa—I want to though. Don't you?" She blushed even deeper.

Ben felt his face turn pink. "Well, yeah, of course, but I'm pretty content with what we have, so it's okay to wait."

Rey pulled back from his chest slightly. "The school year's dance."

"Huh?" Ben looked confused.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking to myself," Rey said, settling back into his chest as they resumed watching the movie.

But in Rey's head, she had formed a plan. The next school year's dance was eight months away, and Rey felt that should be enough time for her to calm her nerves and work up the courage to go all the way with Ben. She wanted to—she wanted Ben to be her first time. Actually, she wanted him to be her only one.

She set the plan firmly in her mind and found herself looking forward to the next school year beginning with her boyfriend by her side.

Fifteen-year-old Rey grabbed her backpack and shouldered it as she ran toward the front door.

"Byeee, I'm heading to school!" she called out.

"See you later, child!" Maz called back from the kitchen.

Rey burst through the door and closed it behind her, rushing toward the familiar blue Honda waiting in the driveway. She hopped into the passenger seat and immediately leaned over to plant a kiss on the driver's cheek.

Ben smiled and kissed her cheek in return. "Morning, sweetheart."

Rey beamed at him, her braces catching the morning sunlight as she gave him that wide, radiant smile he'd fallen in love with. "Morning, Ben."

Her acne was still there—some days better, some days worse—but it didn't matter. Not to Ben, who took every opportunity between classes to pepper her face with gentle kisses, making her giggle and blush in the hallways. And Rey loved it. She loved every single kiss she got from her boyfriend, loved the way he made her feel beautiful exactly as she was.

As Ben pulled out of the driveway, Rey reached over to take his free hand, intertwining their fingers like she did every morning. Some things had changed since that night at the formal dance—they were older now, more confident, officially together. But the most important things remained the same: the way they could talk for hours about books, the way Ben still brought her new poetry collections, the way Rey still lit up when she discovered a story she couldn't wait to share with him.

"Ready for another day?" Ben asked, squeezing her hand gently.

Rey looked at her boyfriend—her best friend, her favorite person, the boy who'd seen her at her most insecure and loved her anyway—and smiled.

"With you? Always."

As Ben's senior year began, Rey found herself counting days. Three hundred and twelve until graduation. Three hundred and eleven. Three hundred and ten. Each morning when Ben picked her up in his faded blue Honda, she'd mentally cross another day off her calendar, both dreading and cherishing its passing.

"You're quiet this morning," Ben said, reaching over to take her hand as they drove to school.

"Just thinking," Rey replied, watching the familiar neighborhoods slide past her window.

"About what?"

Rey squeezed his hand. "About how I want to remember everything. The way the sunlight hits your dashboard. The way your car always smells like those pine air fresheners your dad buys in bulk."

Ben chuckled, but his eyes softened. They both knew what she wasn't saying.

They fell into a rhythm that year—morning drives with coffee Rey smuggled from Maz's kitchen, lunch periods spent in their corner of the cafeteria with their now-inseparable friend group, afternoons in the library or at Kenobi's Books. Every moment became precious, something to be savored and memorized.

Weekends were sacred. They'd wake early on Saturdays to maximize their time together, sometimes driving to the lake an hour away just to read on the shore, their shoulders touching as they lost themselves in parallel worlds. On Sundays, they'd join their friends for movie marathons or study sessions that inevitably dissolved into laughter and inside jokes.

"You two are nauseating," Hux commented one evening as they all sprawled across Phasma's living room floor, textbooks abandoned in favor of pizza and video games. "It's like watching one of those romantic movies where you know one of them is going to die at the end."

"Shut up, Hux," Phasma said, throwing a pillow at his head.

But Rey felt the truth in his words like a physical ache. The college applications that littered Ben's desk at home. The brochures with campuses that seemed impossibly far away. The future that was rushing toward them, unstoppable as the tide.

Ben's car became their sanctuary, a place where time seemed to slow. The backseat had witnessed countless moments—passionate kisses that left the windows fogged, whispered confessions under blankets during late-night stargazing trips, Rey's tears when Ben got his first acceptance letter to a university three states away.

"We'll make it work," he promised, wiping her cheeks with his thumbs. "Distance is just geography. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

Rey nodded, wanting desperately to believe him.

As winter melted into spring, Rey's dread grew alongside the blooming flowers. Ben had been accepted to seven universities, each more prestigious than the last. When he finally decided on Chandrila University—a ten-hour flight from their hometown—Rey spent an entire night researching the campus, memorizing building names and dormitory layouts as if this knowledge could somehow bridge the distance that would soon separate them.

"We should make a bucket list," Rose suggested during lunch one day, when she noticed Rey's gaze lingering on Ben across the cafeteria. "All the things you want to do together before graduation."

The list grew quickly—visit the abandoned lighthouse at the edge of town, have a proper picnic in the botanical gardens, camp overnight in Ben's backyard, dance in the rain at least once. They crossed items off methodically, Ben always making sure to take photos that Rey carefully preserved in an album.

The backseat of Ben's Honda witnessed their most intimate moments—whispered "I love you"s against heated skin, Rey's breathless laughter when they nearly got caught by a passing police cruiser. Each encounter felt more urgent than the last, as if they were trying to store up enough memories to last through the coming separation.

The night had finally arrived. Rey stood in front of Maz's camera, beaming in her navy blue dress while Ben looked handsome in his black suit. After Maz finished taking what felt like a hundred photos, they headed out to the dance.

Rey was over the moon to be slow dancing with Ben as her official date this time. She had prepared for tonight in every way she could think of—she'd shaved her legs and everywhere else, and had even packed a condom in her small purse. They danced all night, lost in each other and the music.

When it was time to leave, Rey's heart was racing as they got in Ben's car.

"Are your parents home?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"No, they just left yesterday staying over at Chicago for a conference. Why?" Ben asked, though his knowing smile suggested he had an idea.

Rey blushed deeply. "Maybe we could have some private time to ourselves? I'm not ready for the night to end yet." She batted her eyelashes at him playfully.

Ben smirked and started driving toward his house.

Once they were in his bedroom, they were already kissing deeply, his jacket discarded and their shoes kicked off. Ben hovered over her on the bed, kissing her neck and sternum.

"You're so beautiful in this dress," he murmured against her skin.

Rey felt her face heat up as she started unbuttoning his shirt. He helped her remove it, and she couldn't help but run her hands across his chest. They kissed more as he helped her slide her dress away, leaving her in just her undergarments.

She opened her legs to let him settle between them, and when she felt his hand stroke her core, she sighed with pleasure. Her own hands went to his belt buckle.

"Ben," she said, looking into his eyes. "I want to do it."

Ben swallowed. "Really?"

She nodded eagerly. Ben quickly removed his pants while she took off her remaining clothes.

"I have a condom in my purse," she told him.

When he retrieved it, Rey took it from him, wanting to put it on herself. She took her time, relishing the feel of him as she carefully rolled it on.

They settled back on the bed, Ben positioning himself between her legs. Rey stroked his face and smiled up at him.

"I love you, Ben."

"I love you too," he replied softly.

As he entered her, Rey rested her head on his pillow, breathing deeply and waiting for the initial discomfort to fade. Ben was gentle and slow, checking her face constantly.

Once the pain subsided, she whispered, "Please start moving."

She held him close as he began to move in and out of her. The discomfort had passed quickly, and suddenly she felt waves of pleasure building. She exhaled sharply, closing her eyes and losing herself in the sensation of him moving with her. Sex felt amazing, she realized. Sex with Ben felt perfect.

Afterward, as they cuddled together, Rey kissed his cheek and whispered with a shy smile, "I have more condoms, by the way."

When Rey came back home, Maz was waiting in her bathrobe, sipping tea and scrutinizing the phone gallery of prom photos where they danced every slow song pressed so tightly together. She smirked as soon as Rey entered the kitchen. "You two were practically one person," she commented, though her tone was more amused than disapproving.

"Like two halves of a whole," Rey murmured, too quietly for Maz to hear.

Chapter Text

The final weeks of school passed in a blur. Rey attended every one of Ben's senior events—the awards ceremony where he received honors in English literature, the senior breakfast she snuck into despite being an underclassman, the graduation rehearsal where she watched from the bleachers, memorizing the way he looked in his cap and gown.

And then, suddenly, it was graduation day. Rey sat between Maz and Han in the crowded auditorium, clutching her program so tightly it creased between her fingers. When Ben's name was called, she cheered until her voice grew hoarse, watching through tear-blurred vision as he accepted his diploma.

Afterward, in the chaos of families and photographs, Ben found her immediately. He lifted her off her feet in a spinning hug that made nearby parents smile indulgently.

"Congratulations," Rey whispered against his neck. "I'm so proud of you."

At the graduation party that evening—hosted by Phasma's parents in their expansive backyard—Rey found herself watching Ben from across the fairy-light-strewn patio. He was laughing with Hux about something, his graduation cap tilted at a rakish angle, looking happier than she'd seen him in weeks.

"He's not going to war, you know," Rose said, appearing at Rey's side with two cups of punch. "The way you're looking at him, it's like you're memorizing his face for when he's gone."

"He’s going so far away," Rey said, accepting the punch but not drinking it.

"Yeah," Rose agreed with a sad smile.

Later, when most guests had left and only their core friend group remained, they sat in a circle on Phasma's lawn, passing a bottle of champagne that Hux had somehow procured. The conversation flowed easily, full of reminiscences and inside jokes, but there was an undercurrent of finality that no one acknowledged.

"To the future," Phasma proposed, raising the bottle in a toast.

"To staying in touch," Finn added.

"To making new memories," said Rose.

When the bottle reached Ben, he looked directly at Rey. "To finding our way back to each other," he said quietly.

Rey swallowed hard, the champagne suddenly bitter on her tongue.

It wasn't until much later, when they were alone in Ben's car parked at their favorite overlook spot above the town, that Rey finally allowed herself to break. The tears came silently at first, then in heaving sobs that Ben tried to soothe with gentle hands and murmured reassurances.

"I'm not ready," she admitted, her face pressed against his chest. "I thought I was, but I'm not."

"I know," Ben said, his own voice thick. "I'm not either."

They stayed there until dawn, sometimes talking and not talking.

Rey stood outside Ben's house, helping him load the last of his bags into the trunk of the family car. The reality of what was happening felt surreal—Ben was officially headed off to college. Overseas. Thousands of miles away.

She was happy for him, really. This was an incredible opportunity, a chance to study abroad at a prestigious university. But that didn't make the bitter taste of separation any easier to swallow. She still had two more years of high school left, and even after she graduated, she wasn't sure she'd be able to see him. The distance felt insurmountable.

Ben slammed the trunk shut with finality. "I think I got everything I need."

Leia and Han emerged from the house, ready to drive him to the airport.

"Do your best, sweetheart," Leia said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's not every day someone gets the chance to go abroad for school."

"Try to stay out of trouble," Han added with a wry smile, though Rey could see the pride in his eyes.

Both his parents got into the car, giving Ben and Rey a moment alone. Ben walked over to where Rey stood hugging herself, a pout on her face that she couldn't quite hide.

He wrapped his arms around her. "Hey, kid. Still mad at me?"

Rey shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "No, you can go wherever you want." She sniffled quietly, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Ben hugged her tighter. "We can keep in touch, you know?"

Rey nodded against his chest. "Sure..."

Ben pulled back and tilted her chin up so she had to look at him. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

He leaned down to kiss her softly. "I still love you, even if you're mad at me."

Rey swallowed hard, trying to push down her sadness. "I'm not mad at you, Ben. This is a great opportunity and I'm really happy for you. I'm just going to miss you so much."

This time she hugged him fiercely, as if she could somehow keep him there through sheer force of will. "I won't forget you. Ever."

Ben hugged her back just as tightly, his own voice thick with emotion. "I won't forget you either."

The car horn honked gently—a reminder that they needed to get going to make his flight.

Rey watched the car drive away, Ben's face visible in the back window until they turned the corner. She stood there long after they'd disappeared, feeling suddenly very small and very alone.

"It was great while it lasted," she whispered to herself.

She wasn't sure what the time zone difference would be, or how busy they'd both become with their separate lives. But she'd try to stay in touch. She had to believe that what they'd built together was strong enough to survive the distance.

Even if part of her feared it wasn't.

Rey discovered that her world could shrink to the size of a phone screen. She checked her messages compulsively, hungry for the ping of a new text from Ben, a shock of comfort in the ever-widening gap between their realities. Her homescreen now bore his sleepy selfie, the midnight-dark hair collapsed over his brow, a sight less warm than the real Ben but better than nothing.

Rey's phone—International text costs: $0.25 per message

First Month

Rey [7:32 PM]: How was your first day?? Tell me everything!

Ben [1:47 AM Rey's time]: Amazing but exhausting. 8 hour time difference is rough. Classes start at what would be 2am your time lol

Rey [7:45 PM]: That's so weird to think about. I miss you already

Ben [1:52 AM Rey's time]: Miss you too. This is costing you a fortune isn't it?

Rey [7:46 PM]: It's okay 💕

Ben [1:54 AM]: My roommate is fine but keeps quoting Nietzsche at breakfast. Also, the city looks like something out of a movie. I wish you could see it.

Rey [7:48 PM]: Take pictures!!!

She checked her phone in the hallway between periods, under her desk during calculus, behind the counter at the bookstore where she worked a few shifts a week to help Maz out and, if she was honest, to keep herself busy. Ben’s photos started stacking up in her camera roll: a foggy river with swans, a cracked statue in a cobblestone square, the library’s high-arched windows and shelves stretching forever.

She tried to send him pictures of her own world, too. The neighborhood as autumn hit—yellow leaves against the turquoise siding of an older cafe-shop, the faded sign Ben once teased for its misspelling (‘Books, Coffee, & Curiosities’). Finn chasing Rose around a soccer field, their faces blurred in motion. A selfie with Rose at prom committee, both of them wearing paper crowns. Ben always wrote back, though sometimes not for hours or, toward the end of the month, a day.

Second Month

Maz's phone bill arrived—a thick envelope she slid pointedly across the table one evening. Rey opened it and her heart thumped at the sight of the international charge column: $147, nearly triple what she’d ever racked up before.

"Maz, I’ll pay you back," Rey said, eyes locked on the bill.

Maz just flashed her a knowing smile. "You will. But maybe you and Ben need to find a cheaper way to pine."

Rey: "I know, I know. Ben and I are going to try Skype instead."

They scheduled their first call for a Saturday—10am for Rey, 6pm for Ben. She set up her laptop in her room, combed her hair, wore the scarf Ben had given her the year before, and practiced what to say so she wouldn’t sound too desperate, too heartsick, too sixteen.

Skype Attempt #1

Video call quality: Poor.

The call connected and Ben’s face appeared, pixelated and slightly greenish, but undeniably his. Rey’s heart leapt. Rey's face is pixelated, Ben keeps freezing mid-sentence

Rey: "Can you see me? You’re all blurry."

Ben: "...ear you but... video is... zing..."

Rey: "What? Ben? BEN?"

Call disconnected

She tried again. It took seven attempts before they switched to audio only, both pretending it was fine.

Skype Attempt #5

Audio only 

They talked about surface things: Ben’s classes, his weird roommate, the food ("Chicken every day, Rey, I’m going to hate chicken"), Rey’s college applications and Finn’s disastrous new haircut. They avoided talking about how much they missed each other, or how hard it was to go to sleep without the goodnight texts that used to be a given.

Rey: "So Rose says she want to go into Stanford and Finn's going to community college first..."

Ben: "That's great! Sorry, I'm actually about to head to a study group. Can we talk tomorrow?"

Rey: "Sure... what time works for you?"

Ben: "Um, I'll text you?"

He forgot to text

Rey tried not to take it personally, but she found herself checking her phone even more.

Third Month

The distance between her and Ben turned from a wound to a dull, persistent ache, the kind that only flared when she saw couples holding hands in the hallway, or when she watched old videos of them together—Rey laughing, Ben rolling his eyes in faux-annoyance, both so alive and in love it made her want to throw her phone across the room.

Rey [6:30 AM before school]: Morning! How are classes going?

Ben [2:35 PM Rey's time]: Hey! Sorry just saw this. Classes are intense. Made some friends from my dorm. How's senior year?

Rey [4:15 PM after school]: Pretty good. Miss having you in book club though. Working on college apps

Ben [11:47 PM Rey's time]: That's awesome! You'll do great. Sorry for the delay.

He sent fewer photos now. When he did, they were of his new friends: a grinning group at a riverside cafe, an artsy girl with bright lipstick, a guy with an undercut and a tattoo sleeve. She didn’t recognize any of these people, and wondered which ones he trusted, confided in, maybe even liked more than her.

Fourth Month

Rey [After getting home from her new job at the bookstore, 8 PM]: Got a job at Kenobi's Books! Remember that place?

Ben [5 AM Rey's time, next day]: Oh wow our place! That's so cool. Been meaning to text, just crazy busy with midterms

Rey [7 AM, getting ready for school]: No worries, I get it

She told herself she really did get it. She kept herself busy—helped Rose organize the robotics club’s build night, trained a new hire at the shop who reminded her of Ben in the way he always had ink on his hands or lead from pencil. On her rare evenings off, she’d meet Finn for coffee, talk about everything but her own feelings.

"You miss him lots huh?," Finn said, handing Rey a mug of chai.

Rey hesitated. "Yeah, but I think I’m also learning how not to."

They downloaded WhatsApp, then Kik—each time hoping for a better connection, a cheaper option, a way to make the distance less tangible. Rey sent Ben photos of her lunch, her new shelf displays, the stack of college brochures piling up on her desk. Sometimes he replied, sometimes he didn’t.

Sixth Month

Rey: Sends photo of her lunch

 Seen 3 hours later

Ben: Sends photo of campus library at 2 AM Rey's time

Seen 6 hours later

Tenth Month

Rey [Sunday afternoon]: How are you doing? Feel like we haven't really talked in forever

Ben [Monday morning his time]: I know, sorry. Everything's just been so hectic. Made it onto the debate team! How are you?

Rey [Monday after school]: That's amazing! I'm good, just busy with applications and work

Ben [Tuesday morning his time]: Cool cool. Miss talking to you properly

Rey [Tuesday evening]: Same... maybe we can call this weekend?

She waited all weekend, made up excuses to stay home just in case he called. But the call never came, and when Monday rolled around she told herself he must have forgotten, or maybe something important had come up. She didn’t want to be the girl who needed too much. So she let it go.

Twelfth Month

Rey [Rare Saturday morning text]: Hope you're doing well

Ben [Sunday his time]: You too! Sorry been swamped with finals. How's everything?

Rey [Sunday afternoon]: Good. Getting ready for senior year.

Ben [Monday morning his time]: Wow already? Time flies. Proud of you!

Rey [Monday evening]: Thanks. How's abroad life treating you?

Message read but no reply

Twenty-Forth Month

Rey's last text in their conversation:

Rey [3 Months ago]: Graduated today. Thought you'd want to know.

Ben [2 Months ago]: Amazing, Hope you had a great year.

Rey stared at her phone, then finally deleted the conversation thread. She didn’t cry when she deleted the conversation thread. She just felt strangely empty, as if she’d finished a book she never wanted to end and was left staring at the back cover, unwilling to believe it was really over.

She'd moved on to thinking about her own college plans, her job at the bookstore had become management training, and honestly, Ben felt like a beautiful chapter from another lifetime.

Sometimes she wondered if he thought about her at all anymore.She wondered if he was seeing anyone else. The thought didn’t hurt so much as it made her feel, briefly, like she was standing in the middle of an empty field, watching a train recede into the horizon unable to catch it.

But mostly, she was okay with not knowing.

They had been perfect for each other at the time they had together and perhaps that's where their story ends.

Chapter Text

The desk was already scarred with the etchings of its previous tenants: indecipherable marks, a single stylized heart, and the word “FUCK” carved into the soft wood at eye level. Ben ran his thumb over the gouged letters and thought, Yes, exactly, and sat down heavily on the narrow dorm bed. His knees nearly hit the underside of the desk if he wasn’t careful. The cinderblock walls made the whole room feel like a holding cell, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate, considering how little he knew about this new country, this city, this university, his so-called flatmate who had yet to arrive. The window overlooked a patch of concrete and the parking lot, where a constant plume of cigarette smoke hovered above the heads of a small circle of upperclassmen. The air smelled faintly of rain and exhaust, and he could already hear the distant echo of some football chant. Ben’s body ached from hauling suitcases up three flights of stairs, and from the extended, awkward goodbyes that had preceded it.

His mother had insisted on flying over with him, despite his protests that he could manage the move alone. She spent the morning fussing over the drip tray in the shared mini-fridge, taping his class schedule to the underside of the top bunk for easy reference, and folding every t-shirt with military precision. As she sat cross-legged on the blue polyester comforter, she gave him a look that reminded him of the time she’d dropped him off at kindergarten: pride congealed with uncertainty, a wild hope that the place would be kind to him. His father, on the other hand, was uncomfortable in airports and even more so in a foreign country, where he barely pretended to follow along with the accents. He’d offered Ben a series of increasingly limp handshakes over the course of the morning, as if afraid that something else—a hug, an actual exchange of words—might make it impossible to let go.

They’d left just before dinner, his mother with her jaw set as she blinked furiously and his father with a gruff suggestion to call if he needed anything.

Ben watched them out the window as they walked across the parking lot, trying to make out which of the gray, rental Peugeots was theirs. He’d never felt so unmoored.

The room was silent except for the hum of the radiator. Ben unpacked a few books onto the shelf—paperbacks with cracked spines, the ones he’d read and reread for the comfort of their predictability. A battered copy of Infinite Jest, a stack of sci-fi paperbacks, and the annotated Shakespeare his mother had given him for Christmas. He set up his laptop and arranged the three photos of Rey he’d brought with him: one of her in his band hoodie, mugging at the camera; one of them together, blurry and off-center at a carnival; one he’d taken the last time they’d gone hiking, her face tilted up to the sun, eyes closed. He tried not to look at that one too long.

Ben sighed and collapsed onto his narrow dorm bed, exhausted from the move.

Now, alone in a foreign country for the first time in his life, Ben pulled out his phone and texted Rey.

Ben: Finally settled in. Room's tiny but it'll do. Miss you already.

Her response came almost immediately, and he smiled, he’s pretty sure its past midnight her time at this moment.

Rey: Miss you too! How's everything??

Ben: You stayed up late waiting for my text, didn't you?

Rey: ...yes

Ben's smile widened. God, he missed her already. He could practically hear her sheepish laugh. The urge to teleport through the phone, to land back in her arms, was so acute

Ben: Go to sleep, kid

Rey: I can’t sleep.

Ben: Insomnia already?

Rey: You know how it is before school starts. Everything feels weird.

Ben: It’s so weird here, Rey. I feel like an alien or something.

Rey: You’re gonna fit in. Just give it a week. Or pretend you’re an alien for a while and report back

Ben: lol

Rey: Seriously, though. I believe in you.

Ben let the phone rest on his chest for a moment, breathing in the rhythm of her words, her confidence in him so matter-of-fact it almost made him believe it himself.

Ben: I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, Rey.

Rey: Good “Morning”, Ben.

The first week blended into a series of disorienting days: orientation events in crowded lecture halls with walls the color of oatmeal, forced small talk with other international students who all seemed more self-assured, and the endless navigation of campus maps and bureaucratic paperwork. His roommate, a skinny kid from Bordeaux named Luc, arrived late the second night, rolling in with a single duffel bag and a skateboard. He introduced himself with a handshake and a rapid-fire monologue about the state of European politics, then promptly fell asleep with his headphones on at top volume.

Ben tried to make his own routines: instant coffee in the shared kitchenette, morning runs along the canal, late-night walks through the city center where the neon lights looked like something out of a sci-fi movie set. He spent hours on the phone with Rey, sometimes talking, sometimes just keeping the call open so they could go about their separate evenings in parallel. The time zone difference was a constant negotiation, an eight-hour tug-of-war that left both of them tired but unwilling to give ground.

His classes hadn’t started yet, but already the reading lists were ominous. He thumbed through the syllabi, trying to decode the French academic jargon, and felt a creeping sense of dread. He’d always been a good student, but here he was surrounded by kids who seemed to have been born speaking in academic citations, who used the word “dialectical” in casual conversation and laughed knowingly at the professor’s dry jokes. He wondered if he was in over his head, if the admissions committee had made a clerical error.

He called his mother after dinner the third night, not because he wanted to, but because he knew she’d be waiting for it.

“So, are you learning the lingo yet?” she asked, her voice bright with forced cheerfulness.

“Mostly just trying to figure out how to order coffee without embarrassing myself,” Ben replied. “And, uh, how not to get lost. The streets here are insane.”

“You’ll get the hang of it. Give it time,” she said, pausing. “You know, when I was your age and started university, I—”

Ben tuned out the rest. He didn’t want to hear stories about how she’d made friends for life or fallen in love with some European city. He just wanted her to tell him it was okay to feel lost.

When he hung up, he found a text from Rey waiting.

Rey: Maz made me re-alphabetize my entire book collection. I think she’s hazing me

Ben: Think of the existential crisis you can have while you do it

Rey: Already having it, thanks

Ben: Proud of you, bookworm

Rey: Hey, you’re the one who packed like 50 pounds of books. Who’s the real bookworm here

Ben: whatever

There was a pause—he could see the three dots, the tiny ellipsis of her typing, erasing, typing again

Rey: I wish you were here

Ben: Me too

One Month Later

Ben kept a calendar on the inside cover of his class binder, crossing each day off with an X like a prisoner. The first week of classes, the Xs were crisp and certain, a string of victories. By the end of week three, they grew faint, uneven, sometimes scribbled out in a daze. He started to lose track of time, waking at 2 PM on weekends or not at all, sleeping through his alarms until Luc banged on his door and shouted, “Ben, tu vas rater le déjeuner!” and Ben, in his boxer shorts, would shuffle blearily down to the canteen, always five minutes after the best of the food was gone.

The reality of international study hit him like a freight train. Not just the coursework—though it was brutal, each professor assigning essays as if theirs was the only class, the reading lists thick as bricks and everything in French, which still felt like a language he wore inside out—but the otherness of it. The constant sense that everyone else had gotten the rule book a semester early. He felt himself holding his breath in lectures, nodding along to jokes he didn’t understand, copying down words to Google later. The first time he was cold-called by a professor, he blurted out something so garbled that the whole class laughed—gently, kindly, but still. He could feel himself shrink in his seat, shoulders drawing up to his ears. The rest of the day, he kept replaying it in his head.

But the worst was the loneliness. It had a flavor, like cold air sucked through a crack in the window. At night, alone in his cell of a room, he’d scroll through old messages from Rey. He made a rule to text her every day.

She texted him on his first day of class, he wondered if she was okay paying so much for texting him internationally but she said it was okay, so he sends her pictures of the place and the city he’s in and she sent pictures of her as well and all the things she’s doing. The timezone made it harder to reply right away but they still tried.

It was the end of week five. Ben sat hunched over his laptop, daylight streaming in at a painful angle through the window. Rey's message came mid-afternoon, as he was working his way through a stubbornly incomprehensible section of Rousseau.

Rey: I'm so sorry but I can't afford the international text costs anymore. Maz got the phone bill and nearly had a heart attack. Can we try Skype?

Ben: Of course! When works for you?

They scheduled their first video call for the weekend. When the time came, he set up in the common area, found a corner near an outlet, and opened his laptop. Two a.m. his time, six p.m. hers. He was exhausted but buzzing with nerves.

Skype Attempt #1

The connection was trash. He could see her, but only in jagged bursts, each frame dissolving into digital snow. Her voice came through as a series of robotic glitches, syllables stretched out and snapped short by the unstable wifi.

“Can you see me?” she asked, her face freezing mid-word.

“Ba—ly, hear you-” Ben said. “The wifi here is—”

“What? B-en? B-”

“The video-”

Call disconnected

He swore and slammed the table, earning a dirty look from a guy across the lounge who was watching a soccer match with the volume all the way up.

Skype Attempt #2

This time, he tried moving to the stairwell, hugging his laptop to his chest to catch a stronger signal. He could hear the echo of someone’s party down on the first floor, music thumping through the concrete.

Rey’s face appeared, this time in shadow, her hair pulled back. She looked tired, but she grinned when she saw him.

“Hi!” she shouted, overcompensating for the lag.

“Hi! You look—” he paused, waiting for the lag. “You look great!”

She laughed, but the sound was choppy. “You too! How’s—”

The screen froze. They stared at each other in silence for a full minute. Ben tried to fill the gap with a joke: “I think we’re stuck in Skype purgatory.”

Rey’s face remained frozen, smiling back at him.

Eventually, the call dropped again.

Skype Attempt #3

Ben gave up on the stairwell and tried the study lounge on the second floor. By now it was nearly three in the morning. Luc came stumbling in, drunk, arm in arm with a girl Ben had never seen before. They spotted Ben and waved. Ben waved back, then turned his attention to the screen.

This time, Rey didn’t even appear. Just a spinning wheel and a pop-up: Connection Timed Out.

He sent her a quick message:

Ben: Sorry, wifi is garbage. Miss you. Will try again soon.

The next day he skipped two classes and slept until sunset.

Skype Attempt #4

"Okay, I moved closer to the router," Ben said into his laptop, hunched over a desk in the hallway at 3 AM.

He could see Rey this time—her room behind her, the battered posters on the wall, the string of fairy lights she’d put up last winter. She looked better than he remembered, and there was a pang in his chest.

“BEN? HELLO? I CAN’T—” she was yelling, but her voice kept cutting out. “BEN—”

Three guys burst out of a nearby room, shouting about a World of Warcraft raid, and the wifi signal tanked. The screen froze on Rey mid-sentence, mouth open.

Ben wanted to throw his laptop across the hall.

Eventually, they gave up on video entirely and just use audio.

Ben called from the edge of his bed, phone plugged into the outlet, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the static-laced sound of Rey’s voice. Some nights it was like she was right there, curled up next to him, her laugh echoing from the pillow. Other nights, the connection was so bad he could barely hear her at all.

“How’s school going?” she asked, her voice crackling through his headphones.

“It’s—kay. Lot of—rk. You?”

“What? Ben, you're breaking—”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “—ear you! This is—ible!”

"Maybe we should just—"

Call dropped.

Ben stared at his laptop and felt the first real pang of sadness. Not frustration, not anger—just that sinking, hollow feeling, like he’d left something irreplaceable behind and only just now realized it was gone.

Chapter Text

They tried again a few days later, right around 7 p.m. Ben’s time. The sun had just set outside his window, and campus was unusually still. He booted up his laptop, to his surprise the call went through on the first try. Rey’s face appeared, clear and in motion, as if the universe had finally decided to go easy on them for one night.

She was sitting on the carpet in her own room, knees tucked to her chest and hair spilling over her shoulder.

“Hey, stranger,” Rey said, grinning. “You look like death. Are you eating real food or just vending machine stuff?”

“Define food,” Ben laughed. His voice came out thick and groggy; he’d only just woken up from a nap that was supposed to last thirty minutes but had stretched to nearly four hours. “But, hey—nice to see you in more than two pixels.”

They both tried to talk at once, then stopped, then started over. Rey rolled her eyes about her family (“Rose is threatening to dye her hair again, and Ben relayed the latest round of culture shock (“Why does every French kid smoke, Rey? Why? Even my professors smoke!”). They found themselves laughing over nothing, teasing each other for lapses in memory or French pronunciation, trading small details of their days as if they were precious and impossible to replace.

It was almost like things were normal. Almost. Rey mostly spends her time talking about Rose and Finn, she doesn’t really say much, so he shares a bit about his roommate Luc and how they only serve chicken.

Later that night, after the study group, he lay on his bed and tried to remember exactly how she’d looked. He swore he would text her tomorrow, but the next day he woke up late, tripped through his classes like a ghost, and by the time he remembered, it was already past midnight her time. He sent a quick apology, but she didn’t reply until the next morning.

Month Three

Ben checked his bank account and winced. Between food, textbooks, and basic living expenses, he was burning through money faster than expected. Every morning, another trickle drained out of the well. He tried to make it to the end of the month on noodles, baguette, and the produce Luc stole from the dining hall, but he was still always short, and every time he went out with the others—just a cheap beer, just the cover charge for the club, just a movie—he felt a new pebble drop into the pit of guilt.

Finally, one afternoon after a particularly humiliating cashier-interrupts-your-credit-card moment at a coffee shop, he texted his mother, expecting a brief rescue.

Ben [Text to Mom]: Hey, could you send some extra money this month? Things are more expensive than I thought.

Mom: Benjamin, we're paying for your school. That's what we agreed on. If you need extra money, you'll have to work for it.

Ben: But I'm already struggling to keep up with classes...

Mom: Welcome to adulthood, sweetheart. You can do this.

Ben got a job at the campus bookstore. Twenty hours a week, minimum wage, shelving books and dealing with entitled students who complained about textbook prices.

He imagined her in her office, reading the message between a budget meeting and a gallery opening, and he pictured Han in the background, clipping coupons for the next camping trip, his hands stained with oil from the car. There was no point in arguing. This was a morality tale, and the lesson was "Responsibility." He stared at the blinking cursor for a full minute, then shoved his phone under his pillow and opened his laptop to the campus job portal.

He applied to everything, from English tutor to dishwasher to library assistant. He got rejected for all of them—too many applicants, not enough hours—but finally, he landed a shift at the University Bookstore. It was minimum wage, twenty hours a week, and the job description was a sadistic exercise in beige: “shelving inventory, assisting customers, maintaining retail displays.” The manager, a woman named Sabine, had the brisk, impersonal cheer of someone writing her own “Employee of the Month” plaque in her head.

The training video was in French, but the corporate jargon was dense enough to be its own dialect. “L’expérience client est au centre de notre mission d’entreprise,” the narrator blared. Ben tried to imagine anyone’s experience being improved by waiting in line for a $225 microeconomics textbook, but he nodded along, signed the forms, and was handed a navy apron that smelled like synthetic optimism.

The first week was restocking the novelty mug display, and watching students try to shoplift highlighters. He learned to dread the sound of the security buzzer. He learned that most of his co-workers were also international students, and that Sabine ran the store like a battleship. Her favorite phrase was “Ce n’est pas compliqué, non?”—It’s not complicated. Ben tried to believe her, but everything felt complicated: the register would jam and he’d have to call over Sabine for help, or a customer would start screaming about a lost reservation, or a group of American students would come in loudly, demolish the art supplies section, and leave the aisle trashed.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays he worked the evening shift. He’d close up at ten, then stumble back to his dorm, staring at the starless sky over the quad. Sometimes Luc would be waiting with ramen noodles, already in pajamas, watching old episodes of Kaamelott on his laptop. Sometimes he’d bump into the international kid from Uganda, who would give him a silent nod before disappearing into the stairwell. Sometimes he’d just walk the long way around the library, watching the light from the study rooms flicker on and off like Morse code.

Even with the extra income, it was a struggle. He rationed his phone data to save money, so his texts with Rey became shorter, more abbreviated. Some nights, he left his phone charging at work and fell asleep before he could even call her. They started scheduling their calls instead of just talking when they felt like it. But when they did talk—on his one day off, when he wasn’t sleeping through the alarms—he tried to pretend everything was fine. He made up stories about funny customers, the time a guy tried to return a book covered in Cheeto dust, the time Sabine caught a shoplifter and dragged him back by the ear like an old-school nun.

But there were nights when it all caught up with him. The fatigue, the language, the way the cold seeped through the dorm walls and into his bones. He’d wake up at 3 a.m. and stare at the ceiling, trying to remember why he thought this was a good idea.

Month Four 

The days slid into each other, a slick, unbroken reel of wakefulness and exhaustion. Ben set his alarm for 6:55 but always snoozed it until 7:10, then sprinted through his morning routine, scrubbing his teeth with one hand while zipping up his jeans with the other. He’d slide into the lecture hall seconds before the bell, heart pounding, shoes untied, the sour taste of instant coffee in his mouth. Most mornings he barely remembered what class it was—Macro or Micro, French Lit or Astrophysics, whichever, it was always a game of catch-up, always a blur.

At noon, he’d join the silent queue at the closest bakery, scarf a stale baguette in the fifteen minutes between lectures, then wedge himself into a corner of the library, elbows digging into the sticky table, trying to force his brain to absorb twenty pages of reading before the next class. Sometimes he’d drift off, waking to find he’d drooled on his notes, the sound of whispered French all around him. Once he dreamed he was back home, Rey’s head resting on his shoulder, the smell of her shampoo in the air—then the library clock jarred him awake, and the feeling of loss was so sharp he gasped.

By late afternoon he was at the bookstore, folding T-shirts and sorting pens into color-coded bins, brain numb, hands moving on automatic. It was weirdly soothing, the repetition, the low-level retail hum. He learned how to smile at customers without showing his teeth, how to nod even when he didn’t understand what they were saying, how to duck out of view and text Rey without Sabine noticing. He loved the after-hours: the feel of the store emptying out, the whir of the receipt printer, the smell of lemon cleaner. At the end of every shift, he felt like he’d finished a marathon, but there was always more to do.

At eight, he’d trudge back to the dorm, shoulders aching under the weight of his backpack. If Luc was home, they’d make noodles and compare how little they understood their classes that day. Sometimes Ben would tell Luc a joke he’d heard from Rey, and Luc would squint at him, trying to understand why it was funny, and Ben would laugh harder because it wasn’t funny at all. Most nights Luc was out, so Ben would eat alone at his desk, scrolling through old photos of Rey on his phone—her in the snow, her with Rose, her pretending to scowl at the camera. He’d try to conjure her voice in his head, but it was getting harder to remember the exact sound.

He’d send her pictures of him and luc, his new friend and some others he was getting to know, make it seems like he’s doing great here. He’d forget to text her back at times, he'd fallen asleep mid-text three times already. Each time he woke up to messages from Rey saying it was okay, she understood. He felt bad but she still texts him and he tries to remember to text back, it’s just hard when the text arrives while he’s already asleep at 2am.

At nine, Ben would open his laptop and stare blearily at his assignments. There was always a new essay to write, a new worksheet to finish, a new set of problems to solve. He’d play music to keep himself awake—lo-fi hip hop, or old playlists Rey had made for him, or sometimes just rain sounds on loop. He would type until his fingers cramped, then reward himself with a piece of chocolate pilfered from the bookstore, then type some more. Around midnight, he’d text Rey, but she was eight hours behind, and usually still in class or at work herself. Their conversations became a patchwork of half-sentences and sleepy emojis.

There was guilt, too. Every time he saw her name light up his phone, he felt a twisting in his chest—a sense that he was letting her down, letting himself down, even as he told himself it was temporary. She deserved something better than a boyfriend who couldn’t answer her calls until three in the morning, who fell asleep mid-text, who sometimes forgot whether they’d actually talked the day before or if he’d just dreamed it.

The only thing that kept him going was the countdown before he can go back home. He could do it. He could.

But the exhaustion was a tide, and it kept rising.

He started missing deadlines—not by much, just a day or two at first. He started skipping meals. He lost his favorite hoodie somewhere, maybe at the laundromat, maybe at work, and he didn’t even have the energy to look for it. He kept his grades just high enough to avoid getting flagged by the university, but it was all held together by spit and luck and the occasional Adderall Luc slipped him before midterms.

He stopped writing poems. He stopped drawing. He stopped calling home except when his mom texted first. He told himself it was just the workload, but he knew he was lying. He was afraid if he stopped to catch his breath, the whole thing would cave in.

He and Rey scheduled a Skype call for Saturday night, her afternoon. He set five alarms to make sure he’d be awake. At the appointed time, he sat at his desk, wearing the scarf and waiting for her face to appear. When the screen lit up, she was there, hair up in a messy bun. They talked about small things: her class, her job she got at Kenobi’s. She told him about Rose’s latest disaster, about how Finn was failing calculus, simple things. He did notice that she stopped saying she missed him.

When the call ended, he stared at the blank screen for a long time.

He started to count the days differently. Not until the end, but until he could see her again.

But that was the hardest part: there were still so many days left.

Chapter Text

Month Six

The morning it happened, Ben was already running late. He’d overslept, again, a casualty of staying up past two to finish the paper he’d put off for weeks. He sprinted across the icy quad, frost pinching his ears and breath ghosting behind him, and slipped into the lecture hall just as Professor Snoke was writing his name on the board with a flourish. Ben tried to slide inconspicuously into his seat, but the professor’s eyes tracked him in the way predators tracked mice.

Snoke’s lectures were infamous. The man had a knack for unmasking the most fragile student in the room and holding them aloft like Hamlet’s skull. He wore black turtlenecks and thin spectacles, had a voice that oozed slow, toxic contempt, and a smile that never quite reached his face. Today, the subject was critical theory—specifically, Foucault’s notions of discipline, which Snoke illustrated by pacing the aisles and looming over students until they stammered out the desired answers.

Ben’s head throbbed. He’d only gotten through five of the eight required readings, and the paper in his bag was a patchwork of half-finished thoughts and bullshit. He kept his eyes down.

When class ended, Ben tried to make a discreet exit, but Snoke was waiting by the door.

“Mr. Solo, a word,” he said. He didn’t raise his voice. It simply sliced through the crowd, and suddenly everyone was pretending not to listen.

Ben swallowed. “Yes, Professor?”

Snoke held out a sheet of paper between two delicate fingers. Ben recognized his own hasty cover page. “Your paper is late. Again.”

Ben tried to muster the right mix of apology and explanation, but his mouth was dry. “I’m sorry, Professor. I’ve been working a lot, and—”

Snoke’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t accept excuses, Mr. Solo. This is the third time this semester. If you cannot manage your time appropriately, perhaps you should reconsider whether you belong in this program.”

Ben felt the heat rise to his cheeks. He took the paper, mumbling something, and hurried away.

He didn’t look at the grade until he was safely outside, wind blurring his vision. A fat red “B” stared up at him, but it barely registered, because the last two assignments had been a C- and a D+, and his GPA was plummeting like a stone. He sat down on the nearest bench, hugged his backpack to his chest, and tried to breathe.

He texted Rey: I blew it. Then deleted the message before sending, he felt embarrassed and ashamed to let anyone home know how he’s failing.

Instead, he pulled up his work schedule and stared at the blocks of time Sabine had penciled in for him at the bookstore. Twenty hours a week. He couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t do this.

That night, exhaustion thrumming in his bones, he called Sabine and told her he needed to cut his hours. She was annoyed but not surprised. “You American boys always think you can do everything,” she said, a grudging affection in her voice. “Come in tomorrow. We will fix it.”

He dropped from twenty hours to twelve. It meant even less spending money, but at least he could maybe stop the academic hemorrhage. He set up a color-coded calendar for his assignments, made flashcards, tried to join a study group (the group dissolved after two sessions, but he tried).

The weeks that followed were a blur of libraries and lectures, of scrambling to retrieve half-understood concepts, of desperately trying to rewrite old essays to squeeze out a few more points. He still messed up—handed in one midterm a day late, bombed an oral presentation—but for every disaster, there was a tiny win. He learned how to say no to Luc’s 2 a.m. ramen runs. He started drinking green tea instead of coffee. He actually read the assigned books, even if it meant spending Friday nights alone in his room, highlighter in hand, the edges of his vision swimming with fatigue.

Home felt farther away than ever. Rey texted less, but when she did, it mattered. He waits for her to text him, he wants to tell her about the professor who’d started giving him backhanded compliments, about the time Luc almost set the microwave on fire, about the day he walked into the city and got lost for three hours but didn’t panic. She sends him a picture of her lunch instead without words.

As the semester wore on, Ben started to notice the other kids who were falling behind. He saw the same haunted look in the eyes of the Nigerian kid two seats down, the way Clara from Quebec bit her nails to the quick, the way Luc’s jokes turned sharp and mean when he was scared. It wasn’t just him. The program was designed to break them, and he was still here he can do it, he can make it, he won’t let this go to waste.

On the last day of finals, Ben handed in his paper on time. It wasn’t perfect, but it was done. He walked out of the hall, his hands shaking, and stood in the cold until his skin went numb. He felt lighter than he had in months.

On his way back to the dorm, he stopped at the cheap bakery and bought two pastries. He ate one, saving the other for Luc, who was probably still asleep.

He got back to his room and checked his phone. No new messages. He lay down on the bed, still wearing his coat, and waits for her to text him so they can talk.

She didn’t.


So he just sends her a picture of his campus library before finally going to sleep.

Month Eight

Ben hadn’t left the dorm for anything but work and classes in a month. His room smelled like instant noodles. He told himself he would clean on Saturday, but Saturday always came and went, and by now a civilization of dust bunnies had established a democracy beneath his bed.

Ben sat at his desk with his scarf on, It was 1:06 in the morning and he was six hours deep into a translation exercise that had started as a two-page assignment and metastasized into a twenty-page black hole of cross-references and footnotes. His eyes ached. He had long since stopped eating actual meals, subsisting instead on a rotation of black coffee, vending machine pretzels, and the occasional chocolate croissant.

He checked his phone out of habit. Three notifications: two from his banking app (bad news), one from Rey. For a second, adrenaline cut through the fog of fatigue.

Rey [5 PM her time]: How are you? Haven't heard from you in a while.

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. When was the last time they’d even texted? A week ago? Two? The chat log was a graveyard of unsent memes and aborted attempts at conversation. He scrolled upward and saw how their exchanges had thinned, once a daily chatter now just a trickle of reminders and emojis. He tried to think of something witty or tender or at least coherent to send back, but his mind was a blank.

Ben: Sorry, been swamped. How are you?

Rey: Good! Just got back from book club.

Ben: Nice.

He wanted to ask what she was reading, what she thought about it, if she’d made any new friends there, but the words dried up before they reached his thumbs. In his head he rehearsed the story of how he’d found a first edition Nabokov hidden behind a stack of romance novels at the bookstore and how Sabine had let him take it home for free, but he couldn’t think of how to say it without sounding boring, or worse, desperate to impress. Instead, he just let the conversation dangle.

He turned back to his laptop. The translation exercise required him to compare three different French interpretations of a single German poem and write five pages on the philosophical implications of the word “Unheimlich.” He didn’t even know what he thought about the word in English, let alone two other languages. The heating in the building had broken again, and Ben could see his breath if he exhaled too close to the window. He pulled the scarf tighter and powered through, switching between tabs, every so often glancing at his phone.

Once, between paragraphs, he searched for Rey’s Instagram. Her latest post was a picture of a latte, captioned “study fuel” with a little rocket emoji. She looked tired, too; her hair pulled back in a messy bun, eyes shadowed. He started a comment—just the word “cute”—but never sent it.

Three hours later, the assignment finished and his brain feeling like a wrung-out sponge, Ben slouched back in his chair and closed his eyes. He could still hear the buzz of the fluorescent light overhead, the faint thump of music from the room down the hallway, the hum of the radiator. He wondered if Rey was asleep already, if she’d even noticed how quiet he’d gotten.

His phone buzzed again.

Rey: You still up?

He should have replied immediately, but he hesitated. What would he say? That he was drowning? That every part of him felt stretched and brittle, like if he stopped moving for even a second he would shatter into pieces?

Ben: Sorry, I really have to write this assignment. Talk soon?

Rey: Sure

He put the phone down and tried not to think about it. He brushed his teeth in the shared bathroom, where someone had stuck googly eyes on the soap dispenser. He smiled at the absurdity, then felt the smile slip away in the mirror. Back in his room, he crawled under the scratchy dorm blankets and stared at the ceiling until the cold and exhaustion pulled him under.

When he woke, it was 7:30 AM. His first thought was the assignment; his second was Rey. He checked his phone, but she hadn’t messaged again. It was late at night back home by then, and he pictured her curled up in bed, phone face-down on the pillow, maybe dreaming, maybe not. The loneliness was sharp, but he told himself it would pass.

He pulled on yesterday’s clothes, crammed the still-warm laptop into his bag, and trudged across campus to turn in the assignment. On the way, he bought a croissant for himself and another for Luc, who he knew would be waiting at their usual table in the library, sunglasses on, pretending not to be hungover. He walked past the old bookstore where he worked, the windows fogged up against the cold, Sabine waving from inside. He waved back.

There were still hours before his next class, and he used them to nap in the library, head on his arms, the smell of pastry and paper strangely comforting. He dreamed about home, but it was distorted, voices echoing and everything painted in the wrong colors.

When he woke, there was a single text

Rey: Hope your day goes okay. <3

He stared at the message, then closed his eyes and held the phone against his chest for a minute, willing the distance between them to shrink.

But it didn’t.

By the time finals rolled around, Ben and Rey only messaged every third day, and most of what they said could have easily been sent to anyone.

Month Ten

Ben scrolled through his message thread with Rey. The last few weeks had been sparse— mostly surface-level updates.

He started typing an apology, then stopped. What was the point? He'd just disappoint her again when he inevitably got too busy to follow through.

Rey was in high school, living her life, going to book club, hanging out with friends. He was barely surviving, working and studying and sleeping in three-hour increments.

Maybe it would be kinder to let this fade naturally rather than keep failing her over and over.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her. At odd moments, he’d catch himself composing whole paragraphs of confession or apology or just something funny to make her laugh, but then he’d put the phone down untyped, or delete the half-written message. He was always tired, always behind. He kept telling himself he’d do it tomorrow, call her next weekend, FaceTime after the next big deadline, but the deadlines never stopped and the weekends came and went in a blur.

The last meaningful conversation they’d had was about college applications. Rey had narrowed it down to three schools, all of them made sense for her—good programs, a couple of scholarships on the line, big, ambitious places. The old Ben would have made a joke about competing for Rhodes scholarships or cross-country debate finals, but the new Ben just replied, “You’ll crush it.” She thanked him, and added, “I hope we’re still friends when I’m in college, even if we’re old and boring by then.” She’d signed it with a winky face that felt like a bandage over a bruise. He isn’t sure what to respond to that. They’re just friends now? Huh…

The next message came four days later.

Rey [Sunday afternoon]: How are you doing? Feel like we haven't really talked in forever

Ben stared at the screen. He’d been up since six, working a double shift at the bookstore to cover rent and utilities, and had only just finished the first of three overdue essays. His eyes felt sanded down. He wanted to answer, wanted to tell her about the weird customer who tried to pay for a Dostoevsky novel in loose coins, about Sabine’s war with the espresso machine, he told himself he would text her as soon as he is done with his shift.

Ben [Monday morning his time]: I know, sorry. Everything's just been so hectic. Made it onto the debate team! How are you?

Rey [Monday after school]: That's amazing! I'm good, just busy with applications and work

Ben [Tuesday morning his time]: Cool cool. Miss talking to you properly

Rey [Tuesday evening]: Same... maybe we can call this weekend?

He said yes, he really did plan to call this weekend. He even blocked out a window in his calendar, gave himself a reminder to buy extra data, did the math on his bank account and how many prepaid hours that would buy him. There was a plan, a real plan, and for twenty-four hours the thought of it buoyed him—he went to bed recalculating the time zone difference, picturing the way Rey would tilt her head when she was listening, how she’d chew her hair absently while she talked. He would make it work. He wanted to make it work. Skype could only do so much with these shitty signals, so maybe an actual call would do better.

That was the plan , the intention. it did not happen.

When the weekend arrived, he was still at the library, hunched over a desk crammed with debate briefs and flashcards and empty coffee cups. He was lead for the next match, and his team had somehow been placed against Sciences Po’s English-language debate squad, which meant three entire cases to prep, double the normal reading, and Luc spamming him on Messenger with links to terrifyingly dense EU regulatory PDFs.

Then it was already 2 AM, and with exhaustion he fell asleep and forgot.

He remembered staring at the library ceiling the next day, phone in hand, knowing the right thing to do would be to call anyway, even just to say hi, to apologize, to listen to her voice for five minutes. But he didn’t. He just turned off his phone and went back to the open tab of his debate notes, and didn’t think about it.

He looked at his phone later and she was online is skype, feeling the ache of disappointment, the sourness of his own self-absorption. He started typing a reply: “Sorry, debate went late, I totally crashed, can I call today?” but then he saw that Rey went offline, her little green dot gone, and he backspaced the message, then typed it again, then deleted it altogether. She must be upset with him. He told himself he’d make it up to her next weekend.

But the next weekend, debate regionals were in Bordeaux and the team had to take a 4 AM train, and then when he got back, finals were two weeks out and his advisor wanted to see a finished draft of his thesis chapter, and Luc had a meltdown and quit the debate team, and Ben had to replace him for the next round. The days blurred together. Sometimes he’d see Rey’s name pop up on his phone and feel a pang, but it was always when he was in the middle of something, or too tired to think of words that would make up for all the missed moments.

He made a game of composing messages in his head—at his desk, in the shower, walking home from his shift at the bookstore—messages that were funny or sweet, little time capsules of affection and apology and longing. But by the time he had a hand free, the words always seemed to have dried up, or else the impulse to reach out had curdled into guilt, a sense that he’d let things go too long and was only making them worse by reminding her of what was missing.

Chapter Text

Month Twelve

Ben gave up on studying by midnight and called his mother again, desperate for an escape route.

Leia answered on the fourth ring, her voice brisk, each word a little missile of professional concern.

“You’re up late,” she said, as if she already knew the entire story behind the call.

“I’m sorry,” Ben blurted, and immediately hated himself for it. That was not how it was supposed to begin. He glanced at the glowing clock on his phone. “I just wanted to say hi,” he lied. “ and... I wanted to ask—”

“Ben.” She cut him off, and he flinched, feeling again the shrinking sensation that always came when she shifted from warmth to steel. “Did you get my email?”

He had, but he didn’t remember reading it. He had learned to scan her messages for the words that mattered—‘proud’, ‘concerned’, ‘need to see you’, ‘report’—and discard the rest like so much chaff.

He said, “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t reply.”

His mother exhaled, a sound like wind over a canyon. “You don’t have to reply, I just want to know you’re okay. The bursar’s office sent me your transcript. There are a lot of C’s, Benjamin.”

He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “I know. I’m trying.” He wanted to add that it was different here, that language had turned his brain slow and stupid, that he could barely keep up. But he could picture the face she would make if he said any of those things: a slight, disappointed contraction of her mouth, barely perceptible unless you were trained from birth to see it. “It’s just a lot,” he finished, lamely.

There was a pause, and then her tone shifted a notch softer. “Ben. I fought your father to get you into that program. I want you to have every advantage. You need to show them you deserve it.”

He thought of all the nights he’d spent hunched over a laptop in the dorm basement, Luc’s voice blaring over the sound of his own self-disgust, the digital clock always shaming him with its progress. He wanted to tell her that he was trying, that it just wasn’t coming together, but the words caught in his throat. Instead he said, “I made debate team.”

There was a genuine warmth in her next response. “That’s wonderful. See? You’re finding your place.” She sounded so certain, so satisfied, that for a moment he almost believed it was true.

Maybe it was. Maybe he was just being dramatic. He pictured himself from the outside—tall, awkward Ben Solo, foreign and self-imposedly tragic, drifting listlessly through a year abroad that, from any other angle, would look like a privilege. He wondered if he was just looking for reasons to fail.

“Listen, Mom, I wanted to ask—” His voice cracked, and he forced it steady. “Can I come home? I don't know if i want to keep going here for more than a year.”

Leia was silent, the kind of measured silence she only used when she thought a wrong word would make everything worse. “Ben,” she said finally, “I’m going to be honest. Your father and I are traveling most of the summer. He’s teaching a leadership seminar in New Haven, and I’m organizing a conference in Chicago. We’d barely see you.”

Ben said nothing. He wasn't coming home for them.

She let that hang for a moment before continuing: “Besides, I think it’s better if you push through, don’t run. I know it’s hard, but things are always hard before they get better.”

“I just… I’m tired all the time,” he said, and then because it sounded weak, he tried to laugh: “I might be allergic to France.”

She didn’t laugh back. “When you show me those grades, we can talk about the ticket. Until then, I want to see you try.”

He nodded, as if she could see him. “Okay.”

Her voice gentled again, "I'm not being harsh. I just know what you're capable of."

"I still want to come home," he said quietly. He felt like a child right now.

She sighs “Maybe next time.”

He hung up and sat on the steps for a long time after, staring at a spiderweb in the corner of the ceiling, too tired even to follow the thoughts that kept circling in his head. Eventually he went back to his room and lay on the bed, staring at the gray crack in the ceiling, counting the seconds until his alarm would tell him to start failing again.

he stared at Rey's last message on his screen:

Rey: Thanks. How's abroad life treating you?

He stared at it, he couldn’t think of anything to type that wouldn’t sound like petty self-pity or, worse, a lie. He put the phone facedown on the pillow and covered his eyes with his arm.

He hated it here.

Month Fifteen

For the next three months, Ben lived in a kind of fugue state. He drifted to sleep in the small hours of the morning, always behind, always exhausted. He debated, and sometimes they won, and sometimes they lost, and in the moments when Luc or Sabine or anyone else seemed to actually require him, he could almost pretend he was a regular person. But as soon as he was alone, the mask slipped.

He told himself it would get better. It had to. That was the deal he made, with his mother, with himself. He tried harder. He studied flashcards over lunch, he drank double espressos, he even went running in the frigid morning air, the pale sunlight making everything look fresh and alien. But nothing changed. The C’s stacked up, the days vanished, and every time he called home, his mother’s voice was a little thinner, more remote.

He stopped mentioning the grades. He started answering her messages with brief, neutral updates, the sort of thing he imagined a roommate would say about him, not the person himself: “I’m fine.” “Classes are going okay.” “Debate is keeping me busy.”

He didn’t mention Rey at all. That would have required admitting to another kind of failure.

He didn’t know what Rey was thinking. She’d gone quiet, too; maybe she was punishing him for not calling, or maybe she was just busy, or maybe she’d finally gotten tired of waiting for him to reappear.

When he got back to his room, there was another unread message from Rey. It had been a couple of months since the last one—a record, he realized with a pang—and for a second he almost didn’t want to read it, didn’t want to know what she was about to say.

But he did.

Rey: You don’t have to reply. I just miss you, that’s all. Hope we’ll always be friends.

Her words glowed on the screen. "I miss you." Three words she hadn't offered in months. His thumb moved before his brain could catch up, typing out the only truth that mattered: "I miss you too." He hit send without hesitation, then watched the message status change from "delivered" to "read," his heart suspended between beats.

He waited and waited.

She didn’t reply anything back.

It's okay, that’s okay. He’s okay.

He wouldn’t know that she wouldn’t text him again for a long time.

Ben calls his father this time.

Han answers on the second ring, his voice fuzzy and half-surprised. “Hey, kid.”

Ben says “hey dad,” and then immediately worries that he sounds too eager, too much like a child. He clears his throat, lowers his voice a half-step: “Didn’t think you’d pick up this late.”

Han, always the night owl, doesn’t miss a beat. “Isn’t it, like, stupid late where you’re at?”

“Ha, yeah,” Ben says, and winces at the stupid laugh that comes out of his mouth, thin and unconvincing. “It’s, uh, almost two in the morning.”

“So,” Han says, “what’s up, kid? Money trouble? You get arrested or something?”

Ben forces a laugh. “Nah, not this time. I mean, money would be nice, but—”

Han drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Listen, if your mother asks, you never called. She tracks our accounts like a hawk.”

Ben smiles, a small, private smile. “Figured. She always did have the Jedi senses for that stuff.”

Han laughs, big and unguarded, and for a moment Ben feels like he’s sitting at the kitchen table back home, listening to his father make jokes just loud enough for Leia to roll her eyes from the next room. It feels good, and then it’s gone.

"Come on, kid," Han says, voice softening. "What's the real reason you're calling?"

Ben hesitates, because saying it means admitting he wants something, and that’s always been the hardest part. He thinks of how Rey would say it, direct and fearless, and tries for once to copy her.

“Could I—” he starts, and then stumbles. “Could I visit for the holidays?”

A pause on the line, then a rustle like Han is sitting up straighter. “Oh, uh—”

Ben rushes to fill the silence before it can get awkward. “It’s not a big deal. I just thought maybe if I came back for a bit, like for the break, we could, I don’t know, hang out. I’ve been gone a long time, and…yeah.” He feels the words running out of steam. “It’s just been a while, that’s all.”

He can picture his father on the other side, scratching his chin, thinking of how not to disappoint his son and also not to overpromise. That was always Han Solo’s way: never commit to a landing until you’ve checked the weather three times.

There’s a long, drawn-out “uhhhh…” from Han, and Ben can hear in it the beginnings of a letdown.

“Ben, buddy, you’re—your mother and I, we made plans this year, and—well, you know how she gets if we don’t stick to them. She’s got, like, three conferences or something. And then there’s this big thing with the Organa Foundation, and, well…” He trails off, the way people do when they see a train about to hit a car and can’t change the outcome.

Ben tries to make it easy. “No, I get it, Dad. Should’ve checked sooner. My fault.”

Han sighs, the defeat audible even over an international connection. “Next time, okay? Maybe the summer. Or if you want, I’ll come visit you. We’ll grab a burger in Paris. I’ll even buy you a real beer, and not tell your mom.”

Ben says “Yeah, next time.” He wants to say more.

"You doing okay over there?" Han asks, softer now, as if he can sense the spiral starting up in Ben’s head. "You sound kind of… tired."

Ben laughs, emptier this time. “It’s just the time zone. I’m fine, Dad. I’m good.”

Han’s voice gentles. “You always say that. You know it’s okay, right? To not be good sometimes?”

Ben doesn’t know how to answer that, so he just says, “Miss you too, Dad.”

Han says, “Miss you, kid. Stay outta trouble”

Ben smiles, then ends the call. He lays back on the narrow dorm bed, staring at the cracked plaster on the ceiling, the phone heavy on his chest. He scrolls through Rey’s Instagram, watching the little squares of her life tick by: a blurry shot of her coffee mug, chipped at the rim, whipped cream melting into chocolate foam; a close-up of her shoes, bright turquoise against a puddle of rainwater.

Ben double-taps the hot chocolate mug, hesitates, then scrolls back up to look at Rey’s face in the park photo. She looks happy.

He’s glad shes happy.

The lecture hall was emptying as Professor Snoke made his way through the rows, distributing graded tests with theatrical flourishes—some placed gently before star pupils, others slapped down with disdain. Ben sat rigidly in his seat, watching the professor's approach with a knot tightening in his stomach.

When Snoke reached Ben's desk, he paused, holding the paper aloft between pinched fingers as if it were contaminated.

"Mr. Solo," he said, his voice soft but carrying. "Another disappointment." He dropped the test onto Ben's desk. The red C seemed to pulse against the white paper.

Ben stared at the grade, his jaw clenching. He'd studied for this one—actually studied, not just crammed the night before.

"I expected better from someone with your... pedigree," Snoke continued, leaning slightly over the desk. "All those honors you supposedly came with."

Several lingering students glanced their way, then quickly pretended not to listen.

"Perhaps," Snoke mused, tapping the paper with one bony finger, "your parents simply paid your way in? A generous donation to secure their mediocre son a spot?"

Heat flooded Ben's face. "No," he said firmly, meeting Snoke's gaze. "I worked for my recommendation letters. I earned my place here."

Snoke's thin lips curled into something resembling a smile. "Then why aren't you getting better, Mr. Solo? Your first year grades were passable, but now..." He gestured dismissively at the test.

Ben swallowed hard. "I've been distracted," he admitted quietly.

"Distracted?" Snoke's eyebrows arched dramatically. "Well then, stop being distracted and focus. This is university, not summer camp."

Ben nodded stiffly, gathering his things. He just wanted to escape the conversation, to get back to his room where he could lick his wounds in private.

But Snoke wasn't finished. He straightened up, adjusting his spectacles with theatrical precision. "Though I suppose it's not as if your family is waiting with bated breath for your triumphant return. After all, they couldn't wait to get rid of you, could they?"

Ben's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

Snoke rolled his eyes, sighing as if Ben were being deliberately obtuse. "Don't be stupid, boy. I saw the holiday housing forms. You're staying in the dorms over break, when the place is practically empty. Most students go home to their families." He gave Ben a pitying look. "Clearly, yours didn't even account for you heading back at all."

With that parting shot, Snoke turned and walked back to his desk at the front of the room, leaving Ben frozen in place.

Ben stared down at the test paper, the C blurring slightly as Snoke's words echoed in his mind. They couldn't wait to get rid of you. The holiday housing forms. They didn't even account for you heading back.

He carefully placed the test in his folder and stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. The lecture hall was empty now except for Snoke, who was organizing papers with his back to Ben.

Outside, the November air bit at his cheeks, but Ben barely felt it. He walked mechanically across campus, Snoke's words playing on repeat in his head.

The worst part was that Snoke wasn't entirely wrong. His parents hadn't invited him home for the holidays. His mother was at a conference, his father tagging along for what they were calling a "working vacation." When Ben had mentioned possibly coming home during his last phone call with his mother, she'd seemed surprised, as if she’d forgotten he might want to.

"But your studies," his mother had said, concern in her voice. "Wouldn't it be better to stay and catch up? Use the quiet time productively?"

They weren't wrong, either. His grades were slipping. The C wasn't an anomaly—it was becoming his new normal. And yet...

Ben stopped walking, suddenly aware he was standing outside the campus bookstore where he still worked part-time. Through the window, he could see Sabine arranging a holiday display, her movements brisk and efficient. She glanced up, spotted him, and waved.

He waved back automatically, then continued walking toward his dorm. The campus was already thinning out as students left for the upcoming holiday break. Posters for end-of-term parties were plastered across bulletin boards, and the air had that strange mix of stress and anticipation that came with finals and freedom.

In his room, Ben dropped his backpack on the floor and sat heavily on his bed. Luc had already left for home, his side of the room stripped bare except for the mattress and desk. The emptiness made the room feel larger and somehow colder.

Ben pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he reached Rey's name. What would he even say to her now?

Sorry I've been a ghost. My professor just humiliated me in front of the class and I realized I have nowhere to go for the holidays. Want to catch up?

He put the phone down without texting. Instead, he opened his laptop and pulled up his email. There was a message from the university housing office confirming his holiday stay.

Month Seventeen

Rey sent him a single message, on his 19th birthday. It was two words: Happy Birthday.

He sent a her a reply “thanks”

that was it. nothing else.

He wondered what else to type to her so he tried to be simple.

Ben: You can drink at 18 here ya know

He waited to see if she would say anything back, he stopped waiting after 2 weeks.

He waited for his parents, but they never said anything.

It's okay.

He's okay.

He didn't even expect his parents to remember.

Chapter Text

Month Twenty Two

Ben's phone showed one unread message, four weeks old.

He’s surprised, he stopped checking messages from her, thought that she forgot him.

Rey: Graduated today. Thought you'd want to know.

The message had been delivered but he'd never opened it. He'd been in the middle of his own finals, then spring session had started immediately after, and he'd been so focused on trying to salvage his own grades.

He opened it now and felt his heart sink.

She'd graduated. Rey had graduated high school, and he hadn't been there. Hadn't even congratulated her.

He started typing a response at least ten times, but nothing felt adequate. What could he possibly say that wouldn't sound like the hollow excuses they'd become?

After enough avoidance, he finally sent her a congratulatory message and hoped maybe she would respond back.

She didn’t. That’s okay. He’s okay

They were different people now, living different lives. She deserved better than a boyfriend who forgot to text her for weeks at a time.

Still, sometimes late at night when he was too exhausted to sleep, he'd think about her smile, her laugh, the way she used to read beside him in the bookstore. He wondered if she thought about him too.

He wondered if she hated him for letting her go.

Mostly, he just hoped she was happy.

Month Twenty five

He supposed this is how it happens. Not as a shriek or a plummet, but as a gentle, incremental wearing down. Every day, one more layer filed off the world until it was sufficiently small, sufficiently dull. It’s okay, he thought, and for a moment couldn’t remember if he was reassuring someone else or only himself.

He’s okay. He had to be okay.

“Ben?”

The voice was closer than he expected, warping the glassy surface of his thoughts. He blinked once, twice, and the world came back with a sickening lurch. The wind at this height was cold, bracing, and his hands, pale where they gripped the chipped stone of the ledge, were shaking just enough to be noticed.

It’s okay.

He’s okay.

“Hello???”

He shut his eyes and counted to three, trying to conjure up the face of his mother, his father, even Rey—anything to fill the gnawing silence that had burrowed beneath his ribs. Instead, the only face that surfaced was his own: distorted in the glass of the dormitory window across from where he stood, dark circles beneath the eyes, lips parted as if in the middle of explaining something to no one.

It’s okay.

He’s okay.

“Qu'est-ce que vous faites?”

The voice was urgent this time, and the question—a simple one, really, what are you doing?—slotted into his brain like a jigsaw edge. Maybe it was Luc. Maybe it was Sabine. Maybe it was nobody, and his mind was just inventing rescue out of habit.

It’s okay.

He’s okay.

“BEN!!”

The shout was a breaking point; it scattered the mist that had been clouding his vision. He looked down, surprised to see how close his shoes were to the edge, the dull red brick dust collecting at the toe. A single, deliberate movement backward, and the world reoriented itself. He turned, and Luc was really there, standing half a dozen feet away, sweat beading at his brow even in the cold.

“Sorry,” Ben said numbly, not sure what he was apologizing for.

Luc’s face tightened. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Ben could tell he was working through the possibilities—joking, anger, tears—but in the end, Luc just let out a breath and walked with him back toward the roof access door. The stairwell was quiet, the only sounds their footsteps and distant hum of early-morning traffic.

Luc hesitated before opening the door, and when he spoke, his voice was low and even. “Ben, if you need to talk to somebody—”

“I’m fine,” Ben cut in, a little too sharp, too quick.

Luc nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them descended together, a stilted choreography of silent steps and half-glances. When they reached the landing, Luc peeled off toward his room, and Ben kept going, down, down, all the way to the ground floor, then outside, where the air smelled like rain and old cigarettes.

He wandered until his feet hurt, then found himself back at the bookstore. It was still closed, but he sat on the steps anyway, head in his hands, until the first employees arrived and stepped around him without comment.

Month Twenty Seven

Sabine's palm connects with the back of Ben's head.

"Late four days in a row. Finals are over. What's your excuse now?"

Ben rubs his forehead, shoulders slumping. "Don't have one."

"You're too glum lately. Even I can't stand it." Sabine purses her lips, studying him. "Any plans with friends this summer?"

"Nope." Ben slides books onto the shelf, not meeting her eyes.

"Then make some." She smirks. "Or hang out with me instead."

"It's fine. I don't want to impose."

"Impose?" Sabine huffs. "Actually, you could help me. I need someone tall to rearrange my apartment. Cabinets to move. Think you can assist a lovely madame?"

Ben tilts his head. "Oui, mademoiselle. You're my boss. Can't exactly refuse."

Another gentle smack to his head. "I'm not forcing you, Benjamin. You can say no."

"No," he deadpans.

She smacks him once more, then laughs. "Finish stacking those books."

After his shift, he follows Sabine home to a modest apartment. The evening dissolves into furniture rearrangement—sofa here, cabinet there, table somewhere else—Sabine changing her mind repeatedly while Ben grunts with each new direction. When her vision is finally satisfied, he stretches his aching back.

"Stay for dinner," she insists. "Least I can do."

"Not like I can refuse," Ben mutters.

He flinches preemptively, arm raised in defense, but Sabine just gives him an amused look. "I wasn't going to hit you."

"Oh." His arm drops.

She smacks his head lightly. "Now I want to."

Ben huffs, but stays for dinner, letting Sabine's chatter about upcoming book shipments wash over him as they prep food together.

"Chop these for me, please," Sabine says, pushing tomatoes and onions across the counter.

Ben rummages through cabinets until he finds a cutting board. He rinses the vegetables, then pulls a chef's knife from the block. The blade catches the light, reflecting his distorted face back at him. He stares a moment too long before setting the onion on the board.

The knife falls in a steady rhythm. Chop. Chop. Chop. Sabine's voice fades to a murmur behind the sound of the blade hitting wood. Two more years, he thinks. Two more years in that suffocating dorm. Two more years scrambling after grades that keep slipping away. Chop. Chop. Chop.

"Ben, that's plenty."

The knife continues its descent. Chop. Chop. Chop.

"You can stop now."

A tug at his shirt breaks the trance. He blinks, knife suspended mid-air.

Sabine studies his face, then glances at the pile of minced onions, her expression softening at the tears tracking down his cheeks.

"These are... very thorough," she says, lips pressed together. "Why don't you sit down?"

Ben swipes at his cheeks. "Strong onions."

"Ben," Sabine says quietly. "The knife."

He looks down to find her fingers wrapped around his wrist, trying to loosen his white-knuckled grip on the handle.

"Sorry," he mumbles, releasing it immediately.

She doesn't move away. "Stay here tonight. It's late, and campus is too quiet this time of year."

"It's fine. I don't mind walking back. The dorms are practically empty," he says.

She is now frowning, she doesn't like that. "Just... stay, okay? No rush."

"Okay," he concedes, retreating to the sofa they'd repositioned earlier.

Sabine's shoulders drop in visible relief as she turns back to finish cooking and fix the mangled onions.

The next day, Sabine leans against the counter while Ben methodically cleans the bookstore's front window.

"I'm changing your schedule," she says, watching him spray and wipe in circles. "Full-time for the summer. I need the extra help." She pauses. "That work for you?"

Ben's only response is a slight shrug, his back still turned to her.

Sabine bites her lip. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

The spray bottle hisses. The cloth squeaks against glass.

Summer unfolds in a quiet routine. Ben works full shifts at the bookstore with Sabine never far away. Her dinner invitations become nightly occurrences. Twice weekly, her couch becomes his bed. On other nights, she insists on driving him to and from campus, arriving an hour before opening to share breakfast at the café down the street. Ben neither protests nor acknowledges these arrangements. He simply exists within the structure she creates around him.

Sabine chews her thumbnail, watching Ben from across the bookstore. Two months dissolve into autumn, campus alive again with returning students. She adjusts his schedule back to part-time without discussion. Their dinners continue, a ritual neither acknowledges directly. One evening over pasta, she ventures, "How's your family doing these days?"

His shoulders lock. "Busy," he says, twisting his fork. "Haven't talked much."

"What are you hoping for this semester?" she asks, refilling his water glass.

"Just to pass." His eyes remain fixed on his plate.

"And Luc? Still your roommate?"

Ben shrugs. "Guess so."

She slides her phone across the table. "Put your number in. For when you're late and ignoring my calls to the dormline."

"Sure." His fingers move across the screen before pushing it back toward her.

Month Thirty

Luc is exaggerating. He's destroying everything Ben worked for. What the hell is wrong with him? After all Ben's effort to stay in school, to make it through each year—how could Luc betray him like this?

The medic applies pressure to the gash on Ben's wrist while Luc gestures frantically, speaking to the police officer and school director huddled nearby.

It wasn't a big deal, Ben tells himself. An accident. Not like he meant to do it. It just happened.

Tires crunch on gravel. Sabine's car door slams, and she rushes toward him. "Ben!"

She crouches, eyes darting between his arm and the medic. "How bad?"

"Needs stitches," the medic says flatly.

Ben rolls his eyes. Sabine lowers herself to meet his gaze. "After this, you're coming with me, okay?"

"Can't. Quiz tomorrow," Ben mumbles, shaking his head.

The director approaches. "No, you don't. You'll be taking a break for a bit, young man."

"But—"

"No buts." The director stalks off, already typing on his phone.

Ben huffs, turning away. Luc approaches with a pained expression. "Ben..."

"Don't talk to me," Ben snaps.

"He just wanted to help," Sabine says softly.

"He blew this out of proportion! There was no need for ambulances!" Ben's voice rises.

Luc fiddles with his sweater hem. "I didn't want to risk it."

"Risk what? It's a small cut!"

Luc meets his eyes. "No. It isn't."

Ben falls silent, staring at his arm, wishing he could disappear.

Sabine pats his leg. "Come. Let's get those stitches."

Two weeks after the incident, Ben receives the official letter. Ben reads it with detached calm: expelled, liability, vacate dormitory immediately. His parents have been notified. His phone buzzes constantly with his father's name. seventeen missed calls Han ahs never called him this much in his entire life alone, while Leia's emails pile up unread in his inbox. Ben deletes them without reading.

Sabine's spare room becomes his refuge. Each evening, she sits beside him on the bed, cotton swabs and antiseptic arranged on a small tray, unwrapping and rewrapping his arm with gentle precision.

After a week of silence, Ben finally answers his mother's call. The volume is so high that Sabine winces from across the living room. He holds the phone slightly away from his ear as Leia's voice fills in.

"Benjamin, this is absolutely unacceptable," Leia's voice cuts through the speaker. "Do you have any concept of what this has cost us? Not just financially, though that's substantial, but the favors I called in to keep this quiet? The strings I had to pull? And you couldn't even respond to a single message and repay us with complete silence? With this... this spectacle? The embarrassment alone—what were you thinking? All that money, all those opportunities, wasted. I've booked your flight home. Tomorrow. This little rebellion ends now."

Ben says nothing, just watches dust particles floating in the sunlight from Sabine's window. When Leia finally exhausts herself into silence and disconnects.

Ben holds the phone to his ear long after his mother has hung up. Sabine crosses the room, gently removes the device from his hand, and sets it on the coffee table.

"Come on," she says with a small smile. "Let's go out for dinner tonight."