Junior year at Tonawanda High School was when Skip had met Lydia Spencer. She was going to enter high school the next year and was with a group of 8th graders who were touring the school. It was between classes, a passing period, when the group was caught up in the rush of students moving into their next classroom. Skip had been with a friend when they passed by the group of smaller students who were standing with their backs against the lockers. At first he thought that they were just freshmen that had been pushed out of the way by upperclassmen until he noticed the visitor badges they wore.

Lydia had her badge pinned to the front of her dress, which was red with white polka dots and had short sleeves that showed off her slim arms. Her hair was curled and pulled back tightly into a high pony, the curls bouncing every time she moved. She had her hands behind her back and was staring down at her black polished shoes, waiting until the other kids had passed through the hallway into their classes. Skip had slowed down and was being pushed past by several students in a hurry to make it across the school. He stared at her unintentionally, noticing how small she seemed against the dark green lockers. Everyone else had someone to talk to, murmuring or laughing or something but she was alone. Even though she was right in the middle of the line of junior high students, she seemed so out of place – so isolated.

Finally she happened to look up and caught Skip's eye. Her face burned red when she realized that he was staring at her and looked back down at the floor. A moment later she turned her eyes back up and smiled shyly at him. He smiled back at her and watched as her face turned as red as her dress.

He felt a hand slap him on the back and turned to his friend who had been waiting expectantly beside him. He raised his eyebrow at Skip at told him that they needed to head to class.

"Right," he said, glancing back at the girl who had tilted her head downwards and hid her face with her long curls. He continued on with his classes but couldn't stop thinking of her. After school he went to the principal and casually asked what school the group had been from. He replied that it was one of six groups touring the school and he didn't recall what school it had been.

Skip went through the rest of the school year, keeping a look out for the girl on his walks to and from school. He never saw her at any of the middle schools close to the high school and never saw her at any of the stores he went to. He hoped that during the summer he'd run into her, but he didn't. She wasn't at any after school party, no carnival or fair or festival or event that he attended. He thought maybe she'd been a dream, just a thought of a girl that he had somehow seen standing against school lockers. He started to give up on finding the mysterious brunette when school started again. He was in his Senior year and had considered volunteering for the draft after graduation. Several other friends that graduated in the years before had already volunteered and were training – a few had been drafted and were already overseas.

Skip and a group of other Seniors were taken out of biology class and were told they were going to be mentors to a group of incoming freshmen. They were taken down into the 9th grade English class where they were introduced to the freshmen and assigned to them. Ben Walker got a blond boy with glasses; John Harrod was assigned to a little brunette boy in a striped shirt that swallowed him up; Susan Peters was paired with a straight-haired girl in a yellow dress; and Bobby Fields was partnered with a red-headed girl covered in freckles.

Skip stood alone at the front of the class, the last to be assigned. He looked out into the sea of faces, all blurred together as they turned to talk to each other. At last the teacher called out,

"Warren, you'll be paired up with … Lydia."

He looked out into the group of kids until he saw a thin arm raise near the back of the class. He sighed and started to trudge to the back of the class. When he was halfway down the aisle he looked up to see the brat he'd been assigned to only to see the sweet, tan face of the mystery girl from last year. His heart skipped a beat as he stopped at her desk. She smiled kindly up at him.

"Hi," she cooed in her quiet voice, "I'm Lydia."

"I'm Warren," he replied hoarsely. He cleared his throat and stuck one hand in his pocket. "Most people call me Skip though."

"Why?"

"Because I skip so much school."

She laughed and looked down at her desk. "Uhm, well, you're not going to skip a lot this year will you?" She looked back up at him. "It's my first year here. I think I'm going to need a lot of mentoring."

He couldn't tell if she was being honest or somehow innocently added an innuendo to her statement. He swallowed hard and shrugged, pretending to think it over. "Yeah, I'll do my best to be here. I mean, I guess if you'll need a lot of help."

"Thank you."

Just looking at her, Skip couldn't tell if it was going to be a very short school year, or a very long one. But either way, he knew that just one year wouldn't be enough time with her. He hoped it'd feel like the longest school year ever.