Author's Note: I recently had to change the rating of this story from K+ to T, for language and references to…um…women without morals.

Thanks for the feedback. I really appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Star Wars.

Leia knew she was in for trouble.

She hadn't seen Han before school, but on her way to second period, she found him in the hallway with Chew Bacca and some other member of the basketball team. "I can't believe this!" he was ranting, holding up some assignment he'd just gotten back from his English teacher. "The word 'circle' doesn't start with an 's'? How long has that rule been in place?"

Leia saw Chew and the other dude- she thought his name was Lando- look at each other behind Han's back and roll their eyes.

Before she missed her chance, Leia scuttled over to him. "You know, Han, if you need help in English, I could tutor you," she told him nonchalantly, trying to get across to him that this offer was purely academic and not at all romantic.

"Leia, come on! We're going to be late for gym!" Marilou hollered as she came up behind her friend and yanked Leia away.

"Why were you talking to Han Solo?" she asked Leia skeptically, as soon as they were far enough away.

"I need to get him to pass his classes so that he graduates and leaves me alone next year."

"He's never going to graduate," Marilou groaned. "I think he has like a twelve percent in Geometry. Maybe you should just convince him to drop out instead."

"That's looking easier at this point," Leia agreed exhaustedly.

Beru Lars had gone about her day, preparing lunch for Owen, helping him with the milking, cleaning the house, and washing fresh linens for Luke and Leia, just in case Darth's plane home was delayed or cancelled. The call came around noon.

It was the nurse from Luke and Leia's school. She said that Luke wasn't feeling well and had gotten sick in his English class, but he was feeling better after a rest and didn't want to go home.

Beru asked to speak to her nephew. "Honey, what happened?"

"Well, I tried my best, Aunt Beru." Luke sounded depressed. "I tried staring at my notes—I didn't care about getting a lower grade—but Mrs. Lucas reminded me to make eye contact. So I looked up, and I saw everyone just staring at me, and…" he trailed off, then sighed. "I just couldn't help it, Aunt Beru. I started shaking, and everything kind of…you know…came up," he finished uncomfortably.

"Well, I'm sorry I pushed you too hard this morning, Luke, but I just wanted you to try your best. What did Mrs. Lucas say?"

"She said she was exempting me from the assignment, and she told Mark to help me to the nurse's office."

Beru had to laugh. "I would have, too. How are you feeling now? Are you sure you don't want me to come and get you?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. They said they had to call home because I got sick, so..." he trailed off. "I don't know, it's Friday, so I'm just going to try to stick it out."

"Well, if you feel sicker, you call me, and I'll come and get you. Feel better, Luke."

"I will, Aunt Beru."

After another examination by the nurse, Luke was cleared to go back to class. It was lunchtime, and he found his best friend Mark in the cafeteria. Mark was in the corner, his head huddled in a comic book.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Mark asked, wide-eyed, as Luke sat down. "Everyone was so worried about you! I saw Marilou sending a text under her desk, I think she was texting your sister. Here, you can have my ginger ale. I'm not thirsty."

"Thanks," Luke mumbled, thinking that the ginger ale would be good for him. He cracked the can open, took a sip, and looked around for Leia, who usually sat with Carrie, Marilou, and a whole gaggle of other girls. "What's my sister doing sitting at the same table with Chew and Han?"

"I don't know, that's her business," said Mark dismissively.

"Well, well." Luke felt someone slam his hands on their table, and some of his ginger ale flew right out of its can. "If it isn't Luke Skywalker! Loved your little performance in Lucas' class today."

Luke and Mark turned to face their new visitor. It was Jason Hutt, who weighed about 400 pounds. Jason—nicknamed "Jabba" because jabbering was all he ever did—was probably the only person in the entire school whose grades were worse than Han Solo's. He was a big bully who loved slutty cheerleaders and smoking in the bathroom between classes.

Overall, a no-good dude. Luke had managed to stay out of his way—for now.

"Leave me alone. I got nervous," Luke snapped at him.

"I see. I saw," Jabba smirked. "We all did. God, Skywalker, I've never seen such a pathetic display! Puking all over the place just because you had to make a speech in front of the class?"

"He wasn't feeling well! Leave him alone and go back to your whores, Hutt," Mark bit at him.

"Shut up, Fisher. I think Skywalker can talk for himself. Or can't you?"

Jason "Jabba" Hutt was leaning with all of his weight on the table, and before Luke could reply, the lunch table completely collapsed under the weight. Mark's comic book flew into the air, and Luke's soda spilled all over the floor.

Everyone else in the cafeteria, not wanting to come under the gaze of Jabba Hutt, tried their best to completely ignore the scene and went on eating and talking.

Jabba just gave Luke a glare and sauntered off.

Luke fought back tears. This day was going from bad to worse.

Mark Fisher calmly put his comic book into his backpack and stood up. "Come on," he said to Luke calmly. "Let's go to the library and sit for a while before class, okay? Don't worry about that loser. He's an idiot, and I mean that literally. His grades are worse than Solo's."

Luke forced a smile. "Okay. Thanks, Mark."

Mark shrugged. "What are best friends for, Luke?"

The phone rang at the Lars home again at one-thirty that afternoon. Beru answered—and heard nothing on the other end except heavy breathing.

"Hi, Darth. How are things going?"

"DAMNATION!"

"The plane's been delayed?" Beru guessed.

"Hmmm? Oh, no, the pen I was writing with ran out of ink. Damn disposable pens. Someone's going to be destroyed for handing me this."

"Are you coming home on time?" Beru asked, trying to get to the purpose of the call.

"Yes, I'll be arriving home by five. Make sure my children are ready for my arrival."

"Of course."

Next: Han Declares His Love