A/N: Woo hoo! Another chapter done! (I'm totally not avoiding the other stories I promised my giveaway winners hahahaha). I hope you enjoy this one. We're getting farther along in the school year but not too far.

THINGS. man. THINGS HAVE TO HAPPEN. Conflicting emotions. I don't want this to end up like my 40+ chapter story that I never finished/got to the point. I am trying to rush things but NOT, if you know what I mean.

Disclaimer: I don't own Band of Brothers or any part of the franchise. All my respect to the men and their families. SORRY FOR GRAMMAR ERRORS.

Please enjoy! R&R. I love reviews. Seriously. They make my life so much happier.


There were a lot of things that Skip didn't quite understand, and Lydia was one of them. The way she moved, all of her limbs pulled to close to her body so she didn't bump into anything; the way she stopped short to allow others ahead of her, instead of continuing on in a graceful way and cutting through lines; the way she apologized for everything, even if it wasn't her fault. It was entertaining to watch her from afar. Quite often he'd stay behind and watch her amble through a group of students, keeping to herself and clutching her books close to her chest, her head down and steps small but quick.

He'd stride along beside her, hands in pockets, head up and scanning the crowds. Occasionally (okay, more than occasionally, more like every other moment) he'd cast a sidelong glance at her and smile to himself. There was something unusual about her and he quite liked it.

Tuesday afternoon they sat outside in the grass under one of the large trees, cooling off in the shade. They had finished their sack lunches and were just resting against the trunk of the tree watching other students come and go across the schoolyard. Lydia shifted to adjust the way she was sitting and her hand slipped, brushing against Skip's. He jolted up and drew his hand away, looking over at her. She pulled her hand away too and looked away, her face burning hot.

"I'm sorry," she said meekly, "I didn't mean to … uhm... I mean …"

Skip wasn't sure why he reacted in such a way. Isn't that what he wanted? He forced himself to relax and put his hand back down in the grass.

"It's okay," he said coolly, "it didn't bother me. It just kind of surprised me."

Lydia glanced at him, holding her hands in her lap. " 'Kind of' surprised you?"

It was his turn to blush so he turned away and acted as if he was watching a group of kids walking into the school. "Yeah."

Lydia watched him unbelieving and rested back against the trunk, staring at the back of his head. She sighed and turned to look out in front of her, pressing her fingers together. She looked over at him discreetly to see he was still turned away then silently placed her hand on the grass. She casually crept her fingers closer towards his until they were a few centimeters away. She looked to her right, away from Skip, and carefully touched the edge of her finger against his. To her silent joy he didn't pull away this time. His fingers curled a bit then stretched back out, pressing gently against hers.

Neither of them vocally acknowledged the contact but both quietly reveled in it; Lydia hummed on the inside and Skip felt his mind start to float away. He edged his hand against hers and eventually his fingers were over hers, his palm resting on the back of her hand. There was something unusually amazing about this moment. He'd held hands with girls before, and had kissed girls before and had done all sorts of things but nothing had ever felt like this. Sitting under the shady oak in the afternoon, legs stretched out and mind wandering across the rolling green hills, hands touching and feeling her smooth skin under his few calluses; for the first time in a long time, Skip was honestly and truly happy.

Not long after that, the bell rang and both shyly pulled their hands away, having to admit that they consciously knew about the contact. Skip stood up first, brushing off his pants and extended an arm towards the brunette who still sat on the ground. She slid her hand into his, held down the hem of her dress with her other hand and was hoisted up by the older teen. Their hands lingered together then dropped apart as they both adjusted their clothes and headed back to the school.

Before they reached the door, Skip stopped and turned towards Lydia.

"I have Speech."

"I have English."

"Is that important to you?"

She smiled at him, "Yes."

"Oh. Okay then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

He stayed standing next to her, though, instead of heading inside. She didn't make a move either. Her eyes flickered from his face to his chest and back. He balled his hands into fists and moved his eyes around her face. Lydia began to fidget with her dress and looked down.

Maybe this was it. Maybe it was time. His opportunity to steal a kiss from the freshman in his care. He blinked a few times and took a hesitant shuffle forward. He unclenched one hand and started to move it up towards her face. His fingers were outstretched towards her and were nearly brushing her face when a voice rang out:

"Hey Skip!"

Both teens jumped and the older one pulled his hand back quickly, closing it into a fist again. They turned to see a boy around Skip's age jogging up towards them. He stopped a few feet from them and walked the rest of the way, catching his breath and smoothing his hair over. He looked from Lydia and Skip and quirked one eyebrow.

"What's going on?"

Lydia and Skip exchanged looks. He shrugged and looked back at his friend, crossing his arms.

"She had a leaf in her hair and I was getting it out."

"Oh..." He looked at the girl who pushed her hair behind her ear and gave a half smile. "I'm Luke, by the way," he said, extending a hand. She shook it and then cross her own arms.

"I'm Lydia."

"Nice to meet you Lydia. Are you a friend of Skip's?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm her mentor, Luke."

"Oh. That's neat." Luke's eyes were trained on Lydia's face. Skip cleared his throat and Luke inhaled deeply and stood up straight. He looked over at the young man, "So you heading to class or you skipping today?"

"No, I'm going to class."

"Shame. I was gonna head out to Doug's and pick up a Coca Cola and head down to the lake." He paused, "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Yeah I'm sure."

"I heard Cynthia Kemper was going to the lake," he added, raising both eyebrows knowingly.

"No, that's fine, Luke. I'm just going to go to class."

"Alright. You're probably late, though."

Lydia's head shot up and she stared at them with wide eyes. "Oh no! I can't be late!"

Both boys looked at her then at each other.

"It's fine Lydia," Skip said, stepping towards her, "tell your teacher you were with your mentor."

"No, I can't do that – I mean I guess I can but I …"

"I'll walk you to class then," Skip interrupted, "and I'll tell your teacher you were with me."

She looked up at him, flustered. "...thank you."

Luke shifted his gaze between Skip and Lydia, noticing the unbreaking eye contact and physical closeness of the two and let a small smirk play on his lips.

"Right on Skippy," he murmured to himself. Then, louder, he announced, "Well I'm off to the beach to frolic and flirt and maybe even make a date." He patted Skip on the shoulder then nodded his head towards Lydia and made a motion of removing an invisible hat, turned on his heels and set off away from the school.

Lydia watched as Luke strode across the schoolyard to his freedom but quickly noticed as Skip took her hand and led her inside the school and down the hall to her classroom. They paused outside the door and shuffled their feet awkwardly.

"Don't want to be too late," Skip said, pressing his lips together. "Your teacher might not believe the mentor story."

A blush made its presence on the girl's face and she let out a breathy laugh. "You're right. We should go in."

"Yeah we should."

Another moment. Lydia squeezed his hand and then let go, letting her fingertips trail his palm. She swore she saw him shudder but she blinked and he was opening the door, leading the way to the teacher's desk. Lydia meekly followed, hands folded in front of her, eyes focused on the heels of the boy's shoes. She stopped behind him and he smiled at the teacher.

"Sorry Lydia's late," he said smoothly, "she was with me."

Immediately, there were murmurs all around the classroom. Every student turned to their neighbor to whisper some ill-conceived thought about the two, relating rumors to each other that they had instantly thought of.

The teacher glanced out to the classroom then folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward, staring Skip down.

"I understand you're her mentor and I appreciate you spending time with her, since she needs it – but I'd also appreciate it if you didn't cut out her learning time by keeping her out of her classes."

"I'm sorry Mr. Hampton. Time just slipped away and we didn't even realize she was late."

"Don't forget that you're late too," he stated, pointing a finger at the boy. "Now I'll forget it for today. Lydia," he looked over Skip's shoulder at the brunette, "you may take your seat. And you, Warren," he looked back at him. "You may go to your classes."

"Thank you sir."

Skip turned sharply and stared down at Lydia who gave a curt nod and stepped away.

"See you tomorrow," he called out as she shuffled to her seat through a chattering aisle.

"Bye," she whispered, mostly to herself as she pulled herself down to her chair and stared at her desk. Skip watched her for a moment then marched out of the room, closing the door behind him. Lydia shrank down into her desk, head hidden by her arms. The students next to her laughed quietly and muttered comments at her.

"Are you two dating or something?"

"Gosh, he really likes spending time with you."

"He must give really good mentoring."

"I bet mentoring isn't the only thing he's giving her."

Finally Mr. Hampton stood at the front of class and cleared his throat, "That's enough class. Everyone settle down." Once the students quieted, he continued, "Now I believe we were on page 94 of your textbooks. If you will turn there now, we'll continue our notes."

Lydia pushed herself up and retrieved her notebook from her bag, placing it on the desk and flipping it open. She passed all of the notes and drawings Skip had scribbled but that she had yet to read. Later, he had said, read them later and remember.

Sarah Welkner, the young blonde who sat directly in front of Lydia, turned around and stared at the students whispering. "Leave her alone. We were all assigned mentors."

"Yeah, but no one spends as much time with their mentor as Lydia," Nathaniel Cornell replied meanly.

"That's because Lydia's mentor can actually stand being around her, unlike yours, Nathaniel."

He stopped talking after that. Lydia shyly looked up at Sarah and gave a half-hearted smile. "Thanks."

She smiled back warmly, "It's no problem. And if anyone says anything mean again, just tell me. I have one of the football players as my mentor, so if you tell me I'll tell him and he can take care of them."

Lydia couldn't help but laugh at that and Sarah laughed too. For the first time since the 4th grade, Lydia felt like maybe she had a chance at making a real friend in at least one of her classes. Sarah turned back around and everyone started to take down notes as Mr. Hampton lectured at the front of the class. Still, Lydia couldn't stop smiling. She couldn't tell what was making her smile more – Sarah's kindness and coming to her defense, or holding hands with Skip.

She had to stop taking notes to bury her face in her hands, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Perhaps Tuesdays weren't too bad of a day after all.