I apologize in advance :P

Chapter 10
The Face of a Friend

Arguably, Kyber was the most excited to see her when they arrived at the house, jumping around her legs and attempting to lick her face and such, but Bodhi's thousand-watt grin was a close second. "I'm really glad you're back," he told her, and Jyn didn't know what to say so she just smiled uneasily back.

"You need food," Baze announced. "Comfort food. Do you like mac and cheese, Jyn?"

She nodded and he disappeared into the kitchen, Chirrut right behind him. Jyn looked at Bodhi, who gestured her up the stairs. "Your room is just like you left it," he assured her, a slight falter in his words betraying the younger boy's nerves. "I—I mean, I didn't touch any of your stuff while you were...away."

"It's okay." Kyber padded after them as Jyn peered into her bedroom, somehow—despite all indications to the contrary—feeling unwelcome. Bodhi didn't question it when she dropped her stuff in the doorway and sat down cross-legged just outside of it, just took to the floor next to her.

They were silent for a few moments. Jyn didn't know if the boy found the absence of conversation uncomfortable; she was too busy fighting the demons in her own head to watch for the signs.

The carpet was too soft.

Softness was weakness.

Weakness got you killed.

What about arrested? she told the Saw Gerrera in her head.

Jyn could almost see the light in his eyes, staring into hers as if he was right in front of her. "For the cause." She bit down on her tongue, hard, and tasted blood.

She was here now, not with him. Papa had given her a new cause in his letter—family. If Jyn was strong enough to seek it.

The sound of dissention drifted up the stairs and Jyn tensed, every muscle becoming taut. Her gaze immediately flicked to the stairs. She was no stranger to adults being passive-aggressive; she'd heard it done amongst each other—and to her face—enough times.

"Chirrut, you seem to be missing a bit of butter."

"Nope, I cut it myself." Chirrut's voice was equally hard, equally strange.

"The box says four tablespoons."

"Mm-hmm."

"That's not four tablespoons; that's half of one."

"Your sight must be deceiving you, Baze." Jyn's fingers clenched together into a fist, nails biting into her palms.

"Your sight is non-existent!"

"Exactly. Nothing to deceive."

"They're not fighting, you know," Bodhi murmured quietly.

"What?" Jyn asked, tongue thick in her throat.

"They're not angry with each other. They're teasing." The boy's eyes were wide and dark and innocent, and Jyn almost snapped at him to not be so naïve before Baze uttered a soft "Chirrut…" and Jyn realized he was right.

It was odd, listening to the words' inflection that she'd heard a hundred times before, and knowing it didn't mean what she'd always been conditioned to think. The idea made her head hurt, along with everything else.

"If you like, I can hunt down some very small spoons for the table. I'm sure this butter will be more than enough to fill four of them," Chirrut offered.

"That's not what it means," Baze sighed. "And this is why I do the baking in this house."

When lunch was ready, Chirrut called the both of them down and placed steaming bowls of noodles covered in yellow-orange cheese. He also set a plate of cut apples in between them, and Jyn didn't even have to think about it before snapping one up and crunching it in her mouth. A shoveled spoonful of mac and cheese followed. "Slow down," Baze advised, but the warmth in his voice calmed Jyn's frayed nerves despite what might otherwise have been a rebuke.

She slowed.

Slightly.

Baze took care of the dishes while Bodhi and Jyn played fetch with Kyber in the backyard. The younger boy had to show her the correct way to wrap her fingers and wrist around a frisbee, but Kyber turned out to just as bad at catching as Jyn was at throwing so it didn't really matter.

Thunk. Jyn's throw had just hit the fence ten feet away from Kyber's outstretched, wide-open mouth when Chirrut called them back inside. "Jyn," he addressed her, "school is nearly out for the day now, so we're going to pick up the work you've missed. We can either pick it up for you to start here or you can come with us and we'll drop you off at the tutoring program if you prefer."

The answer was easy; if she hadn't wanted to show Chirrut and Baze how behind she was—how stupid she was—before the two weeks in juvie, she definitely didn't want to now. "I'll go to tutoring."

Chirrut nodded. "All right, you can go ahead and get in the car. We'll be right there." Jyn walked into the garage with Kyber plodding along behind her. At the last second, Bodhi plucked the slobber-covered frisbee out of the dog's mouth and dropped it into her toy bin.

"You're coming too?"

"You're not the only one who missed school today," Bodhi said, flashing her a soft, quick smile.

Oh. Right. "Thanks," Jyn uttered. "For, um...wanting to be here."

Her foster brother grinned, and Jyn ducked her head to crawl into the backseat of the car to dispel the emotions rising up within her at the sight.

The ride to school was mostly silent, punctuated with the occasional attempt at conversation by Chirrut. Jyn stroked the top of Kyber's fluffy head absentmindedly, staring out the window. Saw was somewhere out there, she thought.

Papa was somewhere out there.

After Baze parked, they split into two groups. Chirrut, Bodhi, and the dog went to go pick up his missed work, while Baze let her lead the way to the sixth grade classroom. School looked to have been out for no more than ten minutes—they had had no trouble finding a parking spot but there were still a few kids running around with backpacks on. Luckily, Jyn didn't know any of them and they didn't know her, so no one stopped to talk. Baze knocked on her classroom door before walking in, Jyn trailing behind him.

"Jyn," Mr. Draven said, standing up from his desk. "It's good to see you back."

Unsure what to say, Jyn nodded.

"I have the work you missed," the teacher told her, lifting up a manila folder stuffed with a veritable stack of papers. He affixed her with a somewhat stern gaze. "I hope you won't be missing any more school in the future. You have a lot of catching up to do."

It was a choice between abashment and explosive anger, and for a moment Jyn honestly didn't know which it was going to be. But Baze was a steadying presence at her side and she found her head ducking downward and giving a slight shake of contrition. "I'll try, Mr. Draven."

"I look forward to it." He handed Baze the folder. "See you tomorrow, Jyn."

Once they were out of the classroom, Baze dropped most of the contents of the manila folder into her backpack that he was wearing slung over one shoulder, fishing out only a few worksheets from the mess. She took them from him, walking quickly toward the tutoring classroom.

"See you in two hours," Baze smiled at her once she'd reached the door.

"Bye," was all Jyn could muster in return. She pushed open the door and sat down at one of the desks in the back, half-hoping to stay unnoticed.

"Jyn!" For a whisper, it was still incredibly loud, at the maximum volume a self-respecting peer tutor could allow himself in an otherwise quiet classroom. "You're back!"

"Hey, Cassian," she replied as he sat down at the desk in front of her, facing backward.

"Where've you been? You must have a lot of makeup work if you've been gone from school all this time."

Jyn purposefully ignored the first question. "Draven didn't go easy with it, no." She placed the sheets on her desk. "There's a whole other stack where these came from." Jyn reached for a pen from her backpack only to realize Baze had taken it with him. "Oh." Her face reddened. "I forgot a…"

"Use mine," Cassian said with a grin, pulling out a pencil that had previously been tucked behind his left ear.

"You're a dork," Jyn said, taking it.

"That's an interesting way of saying thank you," Cassian teased her.

"Well, a fellow dork once told me that tutoring's a thankless job," Jyn quipped back. She realized she was smiling too.

"But really," Cassian said quietly as Jyn bent over her first worksheet. "Where have you been? Did it have something to with your foster family?"

She looked at him, evaluating soft, earnest brown eyes. Jyn swallowed. "I don't want to talk about it."

He frowned. "Jyn, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm…" She stopped. Her eyes found the wood of the desk in front of her. "I was in juvie."

There was a long, strangled silence. Then a strangled, "Oh."

Jyn chanced a look up at him, only to find him staring at her with a mixture of disappointment and revulsion. "Cassian—"

"I'm sorry, I—" He stood up forcefully from his desk, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"Cassian!" She caught his wrist, why? clear in her face.

"I don't want anything to do with criminals," Cassian said in a hard voice. "That's the whole reason I left Fest." His fingers curled around hers, gently but firmly removing her grip from his wrist. Then he walked away, shoulders slumped, without a backward glance.

Her eyes stung as she shifted her gaze to her worksheet again, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. The numbers swam in front of her, not matter how many times she blinked. After a few seconds, the sound of someone sitting down in front of her made her look up again, expecting it to be Cassian coming to—apologize? Anything, really, because at least then she could scream at him.

But it wasn't Cassian. The boy sitting in front of her was tall and lanky, gazing at her with expectant steel-gray eyes. "Cassian no longer wishes to work with you," he announced, still in a whisper, but quite a loud one. "I can see why." He tapped her still-blank paper. "Fifteen minutes have elapsed and you have accomplished nothing in this tutoring session. Your inefficiency is no doubt why Cassian no longer wishes to work with you." He blinked. "I'm Kay, by the way."

Jyn could only stare at him in shock.

"Sixteen minutes with zero productivity. Are you going to work or not?"