Jyn opened the door as quietly as possible and slid into the school library. Not that she really should have bothered with stealth. The big room echoed with chatter and laughter and suddenly, happy shrieking as something went pop!
She leaned back against the wall, looking around. She vaguely remembered coming here on a long-ago Parent Night. At the time, the posters had been dusty and faded, the shelves looming, and the tables dirty. Not to mention a sour librarian who'd been quick to tell her that Lyra refused to stick to books at her grade level, and hadn't taken it well when Jyn had snapped back that maybe the librarian shouldn't be giving her kid boring-ass shit she didn't want to read.
Now it looked bright and warm, the tables all pushed together at one end, sunlight streaming in through the windows. The new librarian had been making changes. Impressive considering he split his time between here and the high school.
The top half of the shelves were empty, all the books moved down. She wondered where the rest of them had gone. Still, there were enough books to make her itchy. She'd kicked the dust of school off her Doc Martens ten years ago, and while she'd gotten her GED, she still wasn't a fan of scholastic environments in general.
Lyra, she reminded herself. She was here for Lyra. For Lyra, she'd walk over hot coals and swallow live scorpions and -
And take the afternoon off work to tell her kid's school librarian a thing or two.
She examined one poster that said, "Join the Rebellion - Read!" with a picture of some cheesy sci-fi movie. Then she drifted over to study the certificates and photos mounted above the desk. The photos showed the same man, different ages, but always dressed in a cap and gown. The first one was the cheap plasticky gown that she remembered seeing in people's high-school graduation pictures. But they got progressively fancier until the last picture showed him in the heavy black gown and colorful hood of movie academics. She glanced at the diploma next to it. According to the fancy lettering, the University of Arizona had awarded Cassian Jeron Andor a Master of Library Science.
She snorted.
He was pretty good-looking, though. When he smiled.
A couple of sharp claps brought her head around. At the tables, the older version of the man in the photos called out, "It's ten to five, ladies and gentleman, time to clean up!" He had a faint accent, an angle to the vowels and pressure on unexpected consonants. It was nice. "I want your wrappers in the trash, your crumbs swept up, and all your materials put away. Let's go, vamanos!"
Most of the teachers at Yavin K-8 were pretty casual, but he wore a button-down shirt with a tie. Who wore a tie anymore? And those shiny shoes. Jesus.
He looked around and his eyes met hers. His brows pulled together. "Can I help you, ma'am?"
"Mom!" A tiny rocket in a blue t-shirt burst out of the crowd of kids, sprinted across the library, and slammed square into Jyn's side.
Jyn wrapped her arms around her nine-year-old daughter. "Heya, stardust."
"Where's Bodhi?" Lyra Erso's face scrunched. "Is he having one of his bad days?" she said wisely.
After two tours in Afghanistan, their neighbor and his PTSD had a hard time holding down a steady job, but he could usually manage to look after Lyra until Jyn got home from work. Jyn thought they probably traded off looking after each other, but she still paid Bodhi Rook a little money every week. It was cheaper than daycare, it supplemented his disability checks, and it kept CPS off her back. Wins all around as far as she was concerned.
Jyn brushed her daughter's hair out of her eyes. "No, he's just fine. He had some appointments at the VA today. Remember? I told you I was going to come pick you up."
"Ohhhh yeahhhhhh," Lyra said.
"Ohhhhh yeahhhhh," Jyn mocked her gently.
Lyra twisted around, then peeled herself away from Jyn's side to jump up and down, as if to catch the attention of the man already walking over. "Mr. Andor, Mr. Andor! This is my mom."
She suddenly wanted to tug at the frayed cuffs of her flannel shirt and check her worn cargo pants for dirt. She stiffened her spine. If a woman in honest work clothes wasn't fancy enough for him, screw him and his shiny shoes.
"Yes, I see that, Lyra." He held out his hand. "Cassian Andor."
"Jyn Erso," she said, shaking it. His hand was warm, and more callused than she would have expected from someone who read books for a living.
"Have you come to see what we do in Science Club?"
"Actually, I came to speak to you about this." She rooted in her back pocket and pulled a many-folded piece of paper out, unfolding it so he could see what it was.
Of course, he knew what it was; he'd sent it home two weeks ago.
His eyes dropped to the paper. She thought he might have sighed, but it also might have been her imagination.
"Of course," he said. "I have to supervise cleanup and walk the kids out to the late bus. But after that, I'd be happy to hear your concerns, if you don't mind waiting."
"I got nothing but time," she said.
His brow quirked, as if he could hear the sarcasm she thought she'd buried.
He turned to her daughter. "Lyra, go clean up your spot, please," he said. Without protest she dashed off. "No running!" he called out and shook his head.
"Lost cause," Jyn said. "She came out running and hasn't stopped since."
He looked over his shoulder with something that might have been a smile or might just have been a grimace, and turned back to the kids. Wading back into the fray, he called out, "Poe Dameron, this is not the soccer field. You go walk and put that trash in the trash can."
A curly-headed boy looked up with a giant, face-splitting grin. "Aaaaahhh, Señor - "
The librarian said something stern-sounding in Spanish. Poe sighed deeply, but didn't seem abashed in the least. When he dropped a ball of trash into the can, Andor paused in the middle of pulling a tiny pink jacket right-side-out to nod to him.
Jyn noticed that the small acknowledgement made the boy beam as if he'd just been handed the World Cup. Apparently her kid wasn't the only one who thought Mr. Andor had hung the moon.
Feeling extraneous, she looked around and found a chair behind the desk. She settled herself into it, watching him herd children toward the door. Lyra came dashing over again. "Mom, you're in Mr. Andor's chair."
"It's all right, Lyra," Mr. Andor said. "You can stay here with your mom while I take the others out, okay?"
"Okay!"
"I'll see you in a bit." He nodded at Jyn, then reached out and tapped Poe Dameron's shoulder. The boy, who'd been half-draped on the desk staring at the graduation pictures, blinked and grinned again, then rushed to follow Mr. Andor to the front of the line.
Jyn watched the other kids pile out after the librarian, all chattering and giggling and shoving and wiggling and generally being kids. He moved along at the front of the line as calm and cool as a shark with a school of guppies on his tail.
She turned to her daughter. "So, kid, tell me, how was school today?"
Jyn listened to Lyra telling her all about Science Club's latest experiment, and the math test she'd aced, and the deadly dull Social Studies lesson, so dull she'd wanted to fall out of her chair and diiiiiiiiiie. "Oh, and Kyle was being a total jerk to Poe on the playground so I tripped him."
"Did anybody see you?"
"Nope! And Kyle will never admit that a girl took him down, so it was the perfect crime."
"Good work." Jyn held up her hand for a high-five.
Mr. Andor came back in, sans guppies. "Thank you for waiting, ladies," he said. He went behind the desk and pulled out a giant, heavy book with a shiny foil cover that read Guinness World Records. "Lyra, this just came in. Would you like to sit over there and review it for me?"
Her eyes widened, and she took it like she was handling the Ark of the Covenant. Without a glance at Jyn, she took it to the set of tables across the library.
Mr. Andor pulled over another chair and sat down. "Now. How can I help you?"
Jyn tapped the permission slip. It was a list of book titles and a short block of text at the bottom, telling her that she could choose to allow or deny her daughter the privilege of checking some or all of them out from the library. "Like I said. It's this. I'd like to know where you get off, sending something like this home."
He said smoothly, "Mrs. Erso - "
"Ms," she snapped. "Never married, don't care to be."
"Ms Erso," he said. "The books on this list are recent additions to the library." He waved his hand at a shelf behind them, lined with shiny-new volumes. "They are here for your review, if you choose. If you would rather Lyra not have access to them, all you have to do is sign the second line - "
"Lyra is getting access to every book on this list, and every book in this goddamn library. The ones you haven't managed to throw away." She glared narrow-eyed around her, the empty shelves suddenly sinister. "What is this bullshit?"
"We're in a school, Ms. Erso, please don't curse." He studied her. "You want her to read these? You know the topics?"
"Do I know the topic of this book?" She poked at one of the titles, which was It's Perfectly Normal: Changing Bodies, Growing Up, Sex, and Sexual Health. "Uh, yeah, I think I can sound out all the words."
"It's just that all the parents who have already spoken to me would rather - "
"Listen, bub, attitudes like that are how Lyra got here. My foster parents told me all the contraception I needed was abstinence, and you see how that worked out for the two of us." She crossed her arms. "I wouldn't trade my kid in for all the gold in Fort Knox, but I also don't want her knocked up before she's legal to vote, like I was. Now maybe that's how you get your jollies, but locking information about her own damn body and how it works into a vault is the opposite of helpful. I don't know the stats - "
"I do," he said.
"Okay, so you know this stuff is basic as hell - "
"Ms. Erso, please - "
"My kid's heard worse and she's the only one here. This stuff is basic as hell. What happens when she wants to know about things you can't even bring yourself to buy a book for? Sex isn't a dirty word, Mr. Andor. In fact, done right it's a whole hell of a lot of fun. But I wouldn't expect you to know that."
He didn't rise to the challenge, at least not with words. But he shot her a single, sizzling glance that made every nerve in her body leap to attention.
Holy shit. A librarian should not be able to look at a woman like that.
While she was still trying to battle back her blush, he said, "As it happens, Ms. Erso, I agree. Every child in this school should have access to these books, to information about their body and their health." He tapped the paper. "This is bullshit."
She blinked at him.
"But this is the bullshit compromise I've managed to drag out of my principal after six months of fighting to be able to buy these books in the first place."
All she could think to say was, "You shouldn't have settled."
"Six months ago, I would have agreed. But would you like to hear some of the other things I'm fighting for?" Without waiting for her answer, he ticked them off on his fingers. "A budget that's not a wad of singles and a coupon to Borders. Permission for a special ESL collection at both schools. Weeding and updating two libraries that still had books about East and West Germany. Computers that aren't from the 20th century. And did I mention the budget? Of course I care about access to information. It's one of the things I care about the most. But right now, I've got to fight the battles I can win." His eyes dropped to the paper again. "Unfortunately, this, I have to count as a win."
She screwed up her mouth. "So your principal is the one I need to be raking over the coals."
"Principal Draven's not a bad man. He's fighting his own battles, is all. It was quite a concession he made, considering this whole thing might be a moot point next month."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know if you've seen the agenda for the next school board meeting - "
"Hey, buddy, I'm a little busy working my ass off trying to keep food on the table and a roof over my kid's head. I don't have time to read every flyer and email that gets sent home."
"Even if you did, you might have missed it. They've been very quiet about the whole thing."
"What whole thing?"
"At the next meeting in three weeks, the school board is going to vote on an abstinence-only sex education policy for all the schools in Scarif County."
Her mouth fell open. "Fuck that noise!"
Across the library, Lyra looked up, her brows crinkled warily. She'd heard Jyn swear before, of course. Pretty much since birth. But she knew her mom's mad voice.
"It's okay, baby," Jyn called to her. "Just talking. Go back to your book."
Lyra, not actually stupid, looked at Cassian, who gave her a little nod. She went back to her book, shaking her head at the mysterious ways of grown-ups.
Jyn said, "How long have you known about this?"
"Since a faculty meeting at the high school last week."
"And? What are you doing about it?"
"There are some teachers besides me who object. There's one, Leia Organa - she teaches government and history, and oversees the debate team. She's working with her kids to speak at the meeting. But the parents are a harder sell. A lot of them think abstinence-only is the way to go. More so at this age." He waved a hand around the library. "And the ones that don't, well, they don't think they can win the fight."
She pressed her hand to her stomach. "So it's just going to happen."
"It's certainly not going to be brought down by a few teachers." He gave her a long, considering look. "What this really needs is a parent to speak up, and a whole lot of parents behind her."
"Oh," she said. "Wait. Uh-uh. You're not volunteering me for this."
"Why not? You had no problem getting in my face. You were even looking forward to spitting in the principal's eye. What's the problem staring down a school board?"
"It's different," she mumbled. "And it's not just that. You're talking about me going out and, like, inspiring people - I'm not inspirational, okay? I don't have a herd of Facebook mommy friends to whip into a frenzy. I go to work, I hang with my kid, sometimes I drink with my neighbor, and I go to sleep. That's my exciting life. I'm not a hero."
"Don't you know anybody who might be slightly concerned?"
She fiddled with a button on her shirt. "The whole school district is going to adopt this policy?"
"The whole school district. K through twelve."
"My bosses," she said slowly. "They have a foster son up at the high school. You might know him - Finn? Shit, I can never remember his last name. Good-looking black kid?"
"Junior? Transferred in at Christmas? Attached by the hand to Rey Skywalker?" When she nodded, he nodded too. "He's a good kid."
"Considering everything, he's a great kid. Anyway, his foster dads, Chirrut and Baze, they lived in San Francisco during the AIDS epidemic. You wanna talk some war stories. Not to mention, the way they're going, their son and Rey aren't going to stop at hands. They'd probably have something to say about sex ed."
"Okay," he said. "It's a start."
She rubbed her hand over her mouth. Oh, Christ. She was going to do this. How had he talked her into this?
"Do you think this can be done?" she asked him. "You think we can actually yell loud enough to keep this backwards, Puritanical garbage out?"
"I don't know," he admitted frankly. "There's a lot of support on the other side. Plenty of parents, and the big church in town - but I'll tell you what." He leaned forward a little. His hair fell over his forehead and he suddenly looked five years younger. "I like our chances better than I did half an hour ago."
She found herself smiling. He smiled back.
"I have to warn you," he said. "I don't have a lot of personal clout with the school board. Half of them think I'm overpaid and overqualified, and my contract is only for this year. I'm going to do my best work behind the scenes."
"I'll take that," she said. "I'll take whatever you got."
"You're welcome to it."
She found herself asking, "Would you like to come home with me?"
His eyes went wide. "I - uh - I don't think that - "
She squinted at him, then played back her own words and gulped. "Oh my god! I meant for a strategy session over mac and cheese, not - " She stole a glance at Lyra. She was still nose-deep in the book. Still, Jyn lowered her voice. "Not to play the beast with two backs while my kid is in the next room. What the hell do you think of me?"
"I have no idea what to think of you," he said. He'd gone red, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Join the club," she said. "They have t-shirts."
He snorted, very softly, in a way that was almost a laugh.
She rubbed her palms over the knees of her cargo pants. She suspected that she wouldn't have been half so embarrassed if the idea hadn't sounded quite so amazing. She wondered if that was why he'd reacted the way he had.
"Look," she said. "You said you know the stats. You sound like you know the players, too. I don't know any of that. And I don't know where to start."
"And we only have three weeks."
"Exactly. So? Mac and cheese and plotting the downfall of the school board?"
"That sounds …" He nodded a couple of times, then met her eyes. "Yes. I would like that."
"Good," she said, scrawling her address on a scrap of paper and handing it to him. "Because that's all that's on offer." She looked at him through her lashes. "At the moment."
His eyebrows went up, and just when she thought he was going to poker up on her again, he grinned. It wasn't the triumphant smile of his graduation pictures, or the supportive smile of a few minutes ago, but something sly and sexy and - oh. Oh wow. She might be in over her head.
Her favorite place to be.
She went across the room to tug at her daughter's ponytail. "Hey, kid," she said. "Turn your book back in and grab your stuff. We're bugging out."
"Awww," Lyra said, but she shut the book and carried it to the desk. Cassian - when had she started thinking of him as Cassian? - waved at her from his office, where he was shutting down his computer and packing books and folders into a satchel.
Jyn felt heat touch her cheeks again as their eyes met, and she looked away first, glancing down at her daughter as she wrestled with her backpack.
"Hey, so, um. Mr. Andor's coming over for dinner. Is that going to be weird?"
"Wait, what? Really?" Lyra bounced with excitement, then stopped and peered up at her. "Why?"
"He's going to help me with - uh - with a project. Boring, grownup stuff."
"Do I have to help?"
Jyn ruffled her hair. "Not tonight. You focus on your homework."
Lyra flicked her bangs out of her eyes. "Are you going to start making trouble, Mom?"
"Probably."
She grinned. "Awesome."
"Seriously?"
"Bodhi says you've been cruising too long. He says everyone needs to cause trouble now and then."
She thought of the fight ahead of her, and found herself smiling. "Bodhi may not be wrong."
It took many, many strategy meetings, about a billion emails and phone calls, enough stats and studies to choke a horse, and even a few Saturdays going door to door. But the vote on abstinence-only in Scarif County was deferred twice and finally, definitively struck down in favor of a more comprehensive sex-ed program. Not perfect - what was? - but not as bad as simply telling kids not to do something they were going to do anyway.
After the third, victorious meeting, some said that they'd spotted the school librarian and the fiery parent that had led the charge against the proposal, making out against his car like a couple of horny teenagers.
Even if they were, Leia Organa said, so what? They were adults.
FINIS