Chapter Text
1994
Up until they're walking down the main hallway of Mountain Springs High School, Han Solo's impatience doesn't show much. The way he opens the door, pushing it out of his way with full force, makes his inner emotions clear to anyone who sees. Ben flinches.
He's a few feet behind, and he slows down a bit, before catching up with long strides.
He can hear Han is muttering something, but he can't make out what exactly until he's close enough.
"...Damn embarrassment. ---Can't catch a break with him, can't catch a break."
...Ben doesn't know what he expected.
His father wasn't likely to display anything else than disappointment after what happened. So he doesn't know why he feels so hurt hearing words he's heard a hundred times before.
He tucks his chin as he walks behind him, his backpack on one shoulder, his hair falling in his eyes, trying to focus on the cracks he sees on the ground or something.
But the second Han goes around his car that he parked just in front of the high school lawn, all of sudden, he's shouting at his son:
"Don't you dare getting into this car!"
Ben freezes in place, lips tight -bracing himself for the rest.
"I'm ashamed of you," Han snarls. "Maybe when you're done behaving like a fucking idiot, I'll tolerate your company a bit more!"
"Han--"
"...this way you'll have some time to think hard about your past decisions."
On those words, he gets into the driver's seat, and slams the door it seems as hard as he can.
The way he starts the car and accelerates shows he can't get away from his son fast enough.
The engine roars almost comically loud, but Ben doesn't have a hint of a smile on his face. He's clenching his teeth, trying to adjust his breathing and swallow down the burn he's feeling inside.
A few hours earlier him, Evan and Lopez are in the boys bathroom, when Lopez takes a black sharpie out of his pocket and starts drawing the biggest dick on the wall, the one facing the entry.
Evan laughs so much he can hardly breathe for five full minutes. The dick Lopez draws is veiny, hairy, with small balls and a raging erection.
He puts some effort into it, and plenty of details too, before turning to them, proud as can be:
"I hope you both appreciate my work of art."
Wordlessly at first, Ben reach out for the sharpie, and Lopez hands it to him, a smirk growing in anticipation.
Ben braces himself with one arm against the wall, and carefully starts writing a few words with gentle curves, muttering:
"Surely we can make it better..."
Evan starts giggling before Ben even writes the punchline -if it can be counted as one, which no it can't- and predictably loses his shit when the sentence is complete.
Lopez, on the other hand, is content to simply face it, cocking his head with a satisfied smirk, before repeating it out loud, while Ben neatly adds a few drops leaking from the tip of the dick.
"What Aidy and Leslie need / is a dick flavored ice cream," he reads, before pausing, nodding, as if to evaluate the poetry. He offers a criticism of sort: "Gotta say, Solo, it's a bit long."
Aidy and Leslie are two inseparable sophomores, who have been rumored to be gay for each other for years.
Ben doesn't have a problem with that really. One of his oldest friends (not that he has much of those), Dameron, has known he was bisexual since him and Ben were only eight playing video games in his basement.
And in truth, Ben doesn't know those girls. At all.
He only knows what's being said about them.
And he's only trying to come up with something to write on a white wall.
Words can't be that important anyway.
Nothing really matters in the end.
What has him blinking, as he's adding a few more details to the whole thing here and there, isn't a sudden slam of the door or a shout.
It's the sudden silence behind him, when Evan's laugh comes to sharp stop.
Ben freezes, sharpie very still in his hand, hovering an inch from the wall.
He turns around very slowly.
Lopez displays an expression of pure anguish. Evan gulps next to him, his eyes cast down.
...her hand still on the door she silently opened wide, Holdo stands immobile behind him, looking at him, her face completely blank.
Used to his bullshit, and so very tired of it.
Her eyes shift to read what he just wrote.
Holdo, their Principal.
Who's also known around the school for being a lesbian, among other things.
Her jaw works slightly, but apart from that, nothing transpires through her facade.
He's so much taller than her at his age already, strong from his running training -but a teen, still, his muscles slender, and even his square shoulders can't hide how intimidated he feels -or more accurately, how fucking embarrassed.
Much less for what he wrote, than for being caught that easily in the first place.
But eventually, his face falls with resignation.
Gone is his fear, gone is the shame.
Whatever. Anything might as well happen to him. He doesn't care.
And he won't bother trying to share the blame either.
He knows how close Lopez came to be expelled last year, and seeing how his face has turned his freshly tanned skin white as a sheet, he's not about to snitch and bring him down with him.
One of them is more than enough.
He just wished he got to show Holdo his true talent. He can draw a dick much better than Lopez can.
"It's two fifteen," she starts, her voice deceptively calm and even, "you're not in class. The hallways are empty --and I can hear you guffaw all the way from reception."
She pauses, before muttering, staring at Ben.
"...if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're trying to get caught."
Another pause, but this time she seems to wait for him to say something.
Ben remains silent, letting things unfold, until she finally speaks again:
"...you know the way to my office, Solo."
Of course, it had to happen one of the only days during the year where his father's home.
That's how they both end up with Han shouting at him for any passerby to see.
He's so caught up in those thoughts, and so overwhelmed by the rage spreading in his chest in place of the hurt he was feeling two minutes ago, that he doesn't notice her the whole time he dumbly stands there, on the sidewalk where his father's car was parked.
She's a few feet on his left, slightly behind him, near a large tree that must have kept her hidden from his sight when he was walking down the path leading to the main entry, not that he would have noticed her anyway, busy as he was getting yelled at by his father.
The night's not falling yet -not at this hour in mid-september- but it's late enough that most of the students of Mountain Springs High School have left the premises.
For some reason, because of the wind in the leaves maybe, he turns and sees her.
He can make out a few facts about her. Looks like she's a senior too, but could be younger, brown hair pulled in a pony tail, plain simple t-shirt with plain simple shorts, white tennis shoes and a not so confident demeanor.
When he looks at her directly, eyes black with shame and anger equally, she hurries to avert her own eyes, but not fast enough for him not to see the pity there, and most importantly, the discomfort -the discomfort she feels that she had to witness this.
He instantly hates her.
Instead of wasting a single word on her, he walks past her, his jaw clenched, unable to bear her presence another second -and starts walking home.
They don't face each other for another four days.