The Galactic Adventures of Paige and Poe: A Star Wars Story

Chapter 2

Poe looked forward to going to Intro, not so much for the class itself, but because he actually knew someone there. At least, knew someone for the good two minutes he interacted with her the other day. For no particular reason, or so he told himself, he wanted to see her again.

On the second day of Intro, Poe actually arrived on time. As expected, Paige was sitting in her front-and-center spot—flanked, sadly, on all sides by other students who had come earlier. He shot a grin at her and waved as he passed by her desk; she smiled and waved back. Neither of them said anything. They didn't know what to say.

Poe sat a couple desks to the left of her—close enough to see her, but too far to speak with her. The next few sessions of class, he would continually come out disappointed. He observed Paige's habits—she'd arrive about 5 to 2 minutes early, appear busy in her notes or textbook before class, listen intently to the lecture, then the moment the professor dismissed them, she would jump out of her desk and hurry out of the room. Her only interaction with Poe would be a smile and a wave, maybe a "hey," but nothing else.

In time, the day of the first test in Intro arrived. And to Poe's surprise, Paige came to class 10 minutes early. The previous class in Room 204 was not finished yet, so she sat criss-crossed out in the hall, with her back against the wall and book in her lap, studying profusely.

She noticed a pair of boots in her peripheral vision and looked up to see Poe towering over her.

"Hey," he greeted with his deep, velvety voice.

"Hey," she replied.

"What's goin' on?"

"This test is what's goin' on."

Poe crawled down to the floor, sitting criss-crossed, just like her.

"You ready for this test?" Paige asked.

"Yeah," Poe smirked. "It'll be a cinch."

"How long did you spend studying?"

"I didn't."

"What?!"

"This is an Intro class. I've been flying starfighters for years. Anything they ask will probably be the basics."

"Wait...how exactly have you been flying starfighters for years?"

"Mom's an A-wing pilot. Flew with the Rebels during the Galactic Civil War. She's been teaching me since I was a kid, and her ship's basically mine, so..."

"So you've been flying without a license? Basically?"

Poe frowned and shrugged. "No one's ever stopped me."

Paige rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe this.

"Anywho," Poe continued, "I feel like I've never had a chance to talk to you since I knocked your books off your desk, and I just wanted to-"

"Look, Poe," Paige interrupted, "I really want to get through my notes one more time. Maybe after class?"

Poe moved back, pursing his lips. Why'd she have to be such a nerd?

Room 204 finally opened to the herd of Intro students rolling in, anxious for the first exam. Poe took his test from the pile on the professor's desk and quietly took his seat. He coolly clicked his pencil twice, then looked down to the first question.

What's the term for the sloped orientation of the strike foil on an X-wing?

He looked at the second question.

What purpose does it serve with regard to missile trajectory?

What? Poe blinked twice, as if the questions would change when he read them again. His mother taught him how to fly, but lessons never got that specific.

Poe's eyes turned to Paige, who appeared to be writing quickly, like she knew the answers. Of course she did.

"Eyes on your own paper, Dameron," the professor scolded.

He sighed, pencil flipping violently in the air as he skimmed the rest of the test.  There was only one thing he could do: wing it.

Naturally, Paige finished before he did, and she was out the door. Guess he couldn't talk to her anymore. Poe felt sick to his stomach as he put the final period at the end of his essay on the last question. He took a big exhale and swiped the papers off his desk, not even bothering to check the answers, and handed it in to the professor. Why even bother, he said to himself. He already knew how to fly.

At least, he thought he did.