A/N: Hey guys! Second chapter is done! I hope you like it. I don't know why I capitalize the "S" in Senior but not the "F" in Freshman, but I do, so...
Disclaimer: I don't own Band of Brothers or any other part of it. I'm just borrowing Skip for my own entertainment ~ My OC belongs to me, though, and any other OCs belong to me.
Enjoy! R&R! (PS Sorry for any spelling mistakes.)
"Science is probably my worst subject," Lydia said as she scribbled a note in her notebook.
"That's my worst subject too," Skip replied, leaning his arms on the table and staring at the top of her head and she bent over her notebook.
She looked up suddenly, "Oh. Well that doesn't help me." She gave a kind laugh, "That's okay though."
"I'm not the best mentor I guess. I'm bad at all the subjects you need help in."
"That's not true. Besides that just means that they're hard classes." She sat up straight and folded her hands on the table. "I don't think anyone is good at science, though."
Skip kept his eyes on hers and she held the gaze. Her face was pink in the afternoon heat and some loose strands from her curls were sticking to her temples. Her bottom lip trembled and Skip felt the urge to kiss her. His head leaned in closer towards hers just slightly and he imagined what it'd feel like to have his lips pressed against hers. She bit her bottom lip self-consciously and watched as Skip slowly came closer, inching forward.
Her eyes fluttered and she felt her face flush hot as he leaned across the table towards her. She didn't know what to do. She thought he was going to kiss her, but she'd never kissed anyone before. She didn't know what to expect or how to act. She'd seen in movies that couples always closed their eyes when they kissed. She slowly closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Were girls supposed to kiss their mentors?
Just when she figured she'd feel him close to her, she felt something brush against her face. Her heart raced and she nearly jumped at the contact but it felt different than what she had expected. She opened one eye and then the other to see Skip was sweeping his fingers over her cheek. She blinked rapidly and began to shrink back shyly.
"I thought you had ink on your face," he said quietly, his hand retreating to his lap.
"Oh," she replied, embarrassed. Her hands flew up to her face and she covered her cheeks. "Did I?"
"No."
"Okay. Thank you..." She stared in mortification at her notebook and refused to look back up at him. It had been two weeks since school started and she'd been hanging around him every day. He had proved to be quite the nice and smart boy but also had the circle of friends that deemed school wasn't worth their time. So far he hadn't skipped out on any school but he'd been late showing up to one of their scheduled study breaks. She had waited at one of the desks in the back of the room, quietly reading through her textbook until he showed up, shirt ruffled and hair displaced. He took her out into the hall and they sat against lockers, reading through her notes and trying to study. They ended up talking instead. He told her that he was late because he had snuck out of the last half hour of his previous class and went out to the lake with his friends. After he realized what time it was, he rushed back to school but was still late.
He then had taken her notebook and started drawing in it. "You'll read it later," he said, "and after I graduate you can read it over again and remember."
Every now and again he'd take her notebook and write something down in it and tell her that she could read it later. Now sitting at the table, he felt no urge to write in the small paper book. Lydia had it protectively under her hands and was staring down at it intently. Even if he wanted to write something, he'd never be able to pry it out of her arms.
They sat in silence as the minutes wasted away. The air suddenly seemed stiff and it was unusually hot. Skip shifted in his seat and looked across the empty cafeteria. He wondered how much longer until study period was up and they'd both have to leave.
"Uhm, Skip?"
He turned back to look at the small girl who looked up at him bashfully.
"Yeah?"
"Do you have a notebook of your own?"
"Not with me," he said, forgetting that he didn't even own one.
"Oh... that's all right. I can just do it in my notebook." She picked up her pen and turned to a fresh page, pressing the tip to the paper and writing out what appeared to be a letter. Skip leaned forward, trying to catch a peek at what she was scribbling but she shuffled the notebook closed towards herself. He sat back and tapped his fingers on the table, waiting for her to finish. The page flipped and she continued writing. He sighed deeply and began to count the freckles along Lydia's arm. He could only spot a few but knew she had more on her face. Finally she sat up and blew on the wet ink then tore out the two pages she had written on. She folded them neatly and handed it to the waiting boy.
He started to turn it around to open it but she grabbed his wrist. "Don't read it yet," she said. "You can read it later, then after you graduate you can go back and read it over again and remember."
He looked down at the neat cursive etched into the paper with black ink and then looked back at the girl. "When is 'later'?"
Lydia thought this over and answered, "Put it away somewhere and when you find it again, you can read it then."
"What if I find it a week from now?"
"Then read it."
"And what if I don't find it for 15 years?"
"Read it then."
Skip looked back down at the folded paper and slapped it against his palm. "Fine. I'll put it away when I get home tonight."
"Good."
They shared the last few minutes of study hall in happy silence then packed up their things and parted. Skip thought about the letter in his back pocket for the rest of the day, occasionally reaching back to pat his pocket and make sure it was still there. At one time, a friend passed by and tried to grab the edge of the paper and pull out the letter, but Skip turned around and punched him in the shoulder.
"It's just a piece of paper," the friend said, rubbing his sore arm. "Why are you so defensive?"
Skip said nothing but moved the letter to his shirt pocket and sat with his arms crossed for the last bit of class. He moved it to the waistband of his pants and pulled his shirt over it on his walk home so it wouldn't fall out or get blown away in the breeze. The walk home was a quiet an uneventful one and when he reached his house, he threw open the door and marched straight to his room. He pulled the letter out of his waistband and shoved it into one of the drawers in his oak desk and told himself to forget about it.
That night he shared dinner with his family and finished any schoolwork he had in his pack before throwing himself onto the bed. He buried his face in the pillow and tried to sleep but Lydia's face popped up in his mind immediately. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He had almost kissed her today, but he didn't. Why didn't he? He was very close to doing it. Then he remembered that he was a Senior and she was a freshman. He was graduating that year and she still had three years of school left. He rolled onto his side and looked at his school bag on the floor, textbooks and paper everywhere.
He'd written and drawn a lot of things in Lydia's notebook, but he'd never actually written anything. They were all just ramblings and thoughts, not any letters or thoughtful notes. But she had taken time to write out a letter – a full two pages, and it was sitting in his desk waiting to be read whenever he got around to finding it again.
Two weeks, he thought, it's only been two weeks and I've tried to kiss her. I don't know how I'm going to get through the school year.
It was silly, he realized, that he was acting in such a way about a freshman girl. He would be gone and in the military at the end of the school year and she'd still be there, learning math and science and how to sew dresses. There were plenty of Senior girls he could choose from anyways. He'd leave the freshmen for the freshmen and chase after one of the busty 12th graders in his English class. After all, he was her mentor – he was supposed to look after her, not flirt or daydream of kissing her.
So it was settled. He'd only be like a friend to her, maybe even a big brother – but would definitely not be interested in her in any other way. And he would absolutely not stare at her lips while she was talking or try to touch her hand when they were walking side by side or get her to skip school and go to the lake with him – that is until he saw her again at school and forgot all about being a mentor, a friend and a big brother.
