Be Mine, Valentine
Summary- Gordo sends Lizzie anonymous love letters, but what happens when she catches him? L/G. Fluffy stuff!
A/N: I've been dying to post this, but I wasn't sure all of you would like it. But I'm taking a chance... who-hoo... hope you like this! Enjoy!
I know it's no where near Valentine's Day... oh well. It's never too early to celebrate! ^_~
Hey! I got the book, 'Hilary Duff, a Not So Typical Teen' by Nancy Krulik! It's a really cool biography of Hilary! Get it everyone!
This story is dedicated to Margaret, someone I barely talk to, and we aren't really friends, but she taught me something very important: Before you diss someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, you'll be a mile away from them when you diss them. You'll also have their shoes. LOL I love that.
***
Lizzie~
The one that makes you cry doesn't deserve your tears.
The one that deserves your tears will never make you cry.
I would never make you cry.
Do I deserve your tears?
Anonymous
A smile lit up my face as I saw the note. It was so sweet. I folded it down the middle and stuck it into my 'anonymous love letters' folder, along with the other twenty-six of them. All of them contained of the same point.
At first, I was thrilled to see the first note in my locker. It was charming, too. And after I got two, three, six, fifteen of them, I had begun expecting them. Almost every day for an entire moth had I gotten short love notes, and even sometimes I got two in one day. They were completely anonymous, but they always made my day.
Today was Valentine's Day. I expected my mystery admirer to send me at least two notes today. He had already sent me one... it was going to be soon that I got another.
And I had a plan.
I was going to leave class early, excusing myself to go to the restroom, and stake out by my locker, waiting, just waiting, for my secret admirer to come. I would do this for every single class. It was a foolproof plan.
And whoever liked me obviously had brains, too. I mean, some of those poems were filled with passion and meaning, and it seemed as if a real poet had composed them. I couldn't help but feeling something for whoever had sent them.
I would soon know who.
***
I crouched lower as I peeked from behind the wall. Thank goodness my locker was close to the corner; that way I could spy on him closely. 'He should be here any minute now.' I thought as I rapidly made sure no one was in the hallway.
I gulped as I heard the faint sound of footsteps. I almost closed my eyes but dared myself to keep them open as they neared. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst, and maybe the best.
I crossed my fingers as the person approached the hallway. I knew it wasn't a teacher... the footsteps weren't click-clacking of high heels, but the thud-thud, squeak-squeak of tennis shoes. A guy, for sure. Girls don't squeak their tennis shoes. (A/N: Talking about shoes again!)
My heart started thumping, almost at the same tempo as the person's footsteps. I hoped that whoever it was wouldn't discover me by listening to my heart beat. Then I saw a figure. It was a guy, like suspected. And he was eyeing my locker. Seriously. I could tell. Kind of like someone would eye a target.
And as this boy approached, I noticed some features about him. Brown hair, red sweatshirt, jeans... he was kind of cute! My heart jumped. It wasn't a dweeb! Sure, it wasn't Ethan Craft... but it was the next best thing. He was cute, poetic... and all mine.
My heart stopped as he turned toward my locker. No, not because he was about to put a note in it... but because his face looked familiar.
Too familiar.
I crouched a little more, glaring at the boy. No doubt about it. I knew him, for sure. I couldn't see him very well, but it looked a lot like...
It. Was...
Gordo.
I blinked and squinted my eyes to make sure. I stared at the guy closely. It sure looked like... no way it was Gordo! Gordo would never write stuff like that... especially to me. I was his friend. Not his... girlfriend. The thought was just so odd.
He looked around nervously, and gulped. He took out a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, and I almost gasped. I stopped myself in time, or else I would've given myself away.
He was my secret admirer. That was SCARY. I was shaking with fear. So Gordo was hopelessly in love, head-over-heels for me. Creepy thought... something I didn't want to think about. We were just friends... if he liked me more than that, then why didn't he just say something?
I watched in disbelief as he slipped the note into my locker. He grinned sheepishly and begun walking toward class, when I jumped out from behind that corner. I don't know what intrigued me do it, but it was just a sudden urge as if I wanted Gordo to see me. As soon as I revealed myself, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
"Gordo!"
His eyes widened. "Lizzie?" He gasped, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
"So it was *you*."
"What was me?"
'Oh, don't play innocent with me, Mr.' I thought silently. 'I know you wrote those notes.' How could he deny something so obvious! I had caught him red-handed, slipping a note into my locker.
"The notes...?" I hinted, pointing at my locker.
"What notes?" He said innocently, clearly turning beet red.
'Well, well, well. Two can play this game.' I thought, and put my hands on my hips. "Oh, you know.. the secret love notes I've been getting for a MONTH?"
"Oh... those." He said in a voice below a whisper, probably regretting what he said. "I mean-you've been getting love notes?"
"Gordo...!" I exclaimed. "Don't give me this little 'innocent angel' act. You know what I'm talking about! Now tell me, why did you write those notes?"
His face softened, and he stared t me with his huge trusting eyes. "Guess."
I froze.
He *did* like me. It wasn't any joke. He wasn't ticking me into anything... it was real. The sweet notes, the little presents, the chocolate hearts... all courtesy of David Gordon. At first it made no sense... but it all began to sink in... and I felt different.
I think I liked him back.
I blinked. "You like me?" I asked, my heart beating a million times per millisecond.
He lowered his head, flushing red. "No... well, kind of."
"Are you sure?"
"Kind of."
"Are you lying?"
He squirmed uneasily. "Kind of."
"Do you really like me? If you say kind of, I'm going to smack you." I smiled at him.
"Uh... yeah... kind of."
I titled my head and looked at him knowingly.
"Yes! YES!!! I like you! I can't live without you. I think about you every waking moment of my life! What do you want from me?" He yelled, and started to stomp away.
I grabbed his shirttail. "You know what, Gordo?" I whispered in his ear.
He didn't answer.
"I think I like you too... kind of."
I had no idea where that had come from, but I had a hunch it had came from my heart. After all those poetic notes I got, I felt as if I were falling in love with the person who sent them to me. And when I had seen Gordo trying to slip a note into my locker, my I was pleased. Very pleased. As if... as if I had *wanted* Gordo to be the mystery guy.
He spun around staring at me with his face in an expression I'd never seen before. His mouth was in a twisted smile, but his eyes looked horribly confused. And even with all of this, he seemed to have no expression at all, as if he was staring at me blankly. And finally, for what seemed like the first time in hours, he spoke.
"For real?"
I nodded. "For real."
And suddenly, his face brightened up, like a lamp that had just been turned on. He closed his eyes and titled his head toward the ceiling. He whispered to it.
"Oh, thank you, God."
"Uh, Gordo?" I asked. "What are you doing?"
"Thanking God."
"For...what?"
He turned away so I could see his back. "What do you think?" He said softly.
"I think it's me."
"You're wrong."
"I am?"
"No."
"You're thanking god because I like you?"
"Yeah."
I smiled. "I think you're making me blush."
He sighed. "I think I'm falling in love." He gazed at me wistfully, and I blushed even deeper.
"With god?" I joked.
"No." He whispered, facing me again. "With you."
I felt flattered. He was so sweet! How come I had never noticed this before? 'Maybe you noticed,' I thought. 'Maybe you never paid attention to it.' I mean, here we were, in the middle of the hallway, (without hall passes, I must add, gazing into each other's eyes like forbidden lovers reunited. I honestly wanted to run away, go back to class, but something stopped me.
And I had a hunch it was him.
"Would you mind if I held your hand?" Gordo asked all of a sudden.
I cocked my head. "What type of guy asks a question like that?"
"A Gordo type of guy." He said, slipping his hands into mine.
Was it just me, or were Gordo and I holding hands?
I smiled lightly. "I think I like that type."
"Well, let's find out." Gordo sighed. "Would you mind if I kissed you?"
I giggled. "Kind of."
"Too bad." He said, and those were the last words spoken between us for the next five minutes.
He leaned toward me, and I leaned back. I could not believe what was happening. Was I really going to kiss Gordo?
His lips gradually met mine, just as I had thought. But what I hadn't thought was that he'd actually put his hands against my waist. The Gordo I knew would have never done that. He was too shy.
But the Gordo I knew had changed.
Even though he had the guts to wrap his arms around me (which felt so comfy), I could tell that he was clearly ready to have a nervous breakdown through all of this. I loved messing with him. To make him even more insecure, I put my arms around his neck, and started playing with his chocolate locks of hair. I felt him shiver again. It felt good to have an effect on someone.
And then, there we were, kissing in the middle of the hallway, with no one around, when I felt it.
I felt this shock run through my nerves. The familiar voice in my head was silent. All of my thoughts were gone. The whole universe was slipping underneath me, and what was left was only me and Gordo. We were in a state where nothing existed, except for us.
I heard fireworks and people cheering. I saw them in my head as well. But the only thing I felt, the only thing that mattered, were Gordo's lips against mine. So tender, so passionate... so wanting... it felt good. So good, like a day at the beach when the sun is shining on you. You feel this warmth, this protectiveness. No one can hurt you. It was such a homey feeling, feeling his lips, touching his hair, feeling his touch... I needed it. it was what I had lived fourteen years waiting for. Everything was so clear, so peaceful. I felt as if it could last forever.
Too bad it only lasted a few seconds.
Gordo unexpectedly pulled away, and my eyes flew open.
Everything came rushing back. The walls, the lockers, and the cold stare of the empty hallway as Gordo unclasped his arms and put them to his side.
His eyes widened and refused to look at me as he spoke. "Sorry." He whispered.
"Don't be." I said reasonably. "I liked it."
"Then I'm sorry I chickened out. I couldn't take it anymore. I was so- nervous. I was afraid you'd slap me." Gordo looked at his hands. "But I-"
"It's okay. I understand." I said, glancing at him, almost laughing because his lips were red from my smeared lipstick. "So... uh, did you feel anything?"
He finally looked at me, and I looked down. "You want the truth?"
"The whole truth."
"I loved every second of it. It felt amazing, Lizzie. I just wished it had lasted longer."
I grinned. "Happy Valentine's Day, Gordo." I said playfully.
He raised an eyebrow, his face morphing into an expression that made me want to melt. "Huh-?"
I hushed him as I pressed my lips against his once more, almost thriving for them, and let the glorious feeling flood back.
I wondered if he felt it.
Summary- Gordo sends Lizzie anonymous love letters, but what happens when she catches him? L/G. Fluffy stuff!
A/N: I've been dying to post this, but I wasn't sure all of you would like it. But I'm taking a chance... who-hoo... hope you like this! Enjoy!
I know it's no where near Valentine's Day... oh well. It's never too early to celebrate! ^_~
Hey! I got the book, 'Hilary Duff, a Not So Typical Teen' by Nancy Krulik! It's a really cool biography of Hilary! Get it everyone!
This story is dedicated to Margaret, someone I barely talk to, and we aren't really friends, but she taught me something very important: Before you diss someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, you'll be a mile away from them when you diss them. You'll also have their shoes. LOL I love that.
***
Lizzie~
The one that makes you cry doesn't deserve your tears.
The one that deserves your tears will never make you cry.
I would never make you cry.
Do I deserve your tears?
Anonymous
A smile lit up my face as I saw the note. It was so sweet. I folded it down the middle and stuck it into my 'anonymous love letters' folder, along with the other twenty-six of them. All of them contained of the same point.
At first, I was thrilled to see the first note in my locker. It was charming, too. And after I got two, three, six, fifteen of them, I had begun expecting them. Almost every day for an entire moth had I gotten short love notes, and even sometimes I got two in one day. They were completely anonymous, but they always made my day.
Today was Valentine's Day. I expected my mystery admirer to send me at least two notes today. He had already sent me one... it was going to be soon that I got another.
And I had a plan.
I was going to leave class early, excusing myself to go to the restroom, and stake out by my locker, waiting, just waiting, for my secret admirer to come. I would do this for every single class. It was a foolproof plan.
And whoever liked me obviously had brains, too. I mean, some of those poems were filled with passion and meaning, and it seemed as if a real poet had composed them. I couldn't help but feeling something for whoever had sent them.
I would soon know who.
***
I crouched lower as I peeked from behind the wall. Thank goodness my locker was close to the corner; that way I could spy on him closely. 'He should be here any minute now.' I thought as I rapidly made sure no one was in the hallway.
I gulped as I heard the faint sound of footsteps. I almost closed my eyes but dared myself to keep them open as they neared. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst, and maybe the best.
I crossed my fingers as the person approached the hallway. I knew it wasn't a teacher... the footsteps weren't click-clacking of high heels, but the thud-thud, squeak-squeak of tennis shoes. A guy, for sure. Girls don't squeak their tennis shoes. (A/N: Talking about shoes again!)
My heart started thumping, almost at the same tempo as the person's footsteps. I hoped that whoever it was wouldn't discover me by listening to my heart beat. Then I saw a figure. It was a guy, like suspected. And he was eyeing my locker. Seriously. I could tell. Kind of like someone would eye a target.
And as this boy approached, I noticed some features about him. Brown hair, red sweatshirt, jeans... he was kind of cute! My heart jumped. It wasn't a dweeb! Sure, it wasn't Ethan Craft... but it was the next best thing. He was cute, poetic... and all mine.
My heart stopped as he turned toward my locker. No, not because he was about to put a note in it... but because his face looked familiar.
Too familiar.
I crouched a little more, glaring at the boy. No doubt about it. I knew him, for sure. I couldn't see him very well, but it looked a lot like...
It. Was...
Gordo.
I blinked and squinted my eyes to make sure. I stared at the guy closely. It sure looked like... no way it was Gordo! Gordo would never write stuff like that... especially to me. I was his friend. Not his... girlfriend. The thought was just so odd.
He looked around nervously, and gulped. He took out a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, and I almost gasped. I stopped myself in time, or else I would've given myself away.
He was my secret admirer. That was SCARY. I was shaking with fear. So Gordo was hopelessly in love, head-over-heels for me. Creepy thought... something I didn't want to think about. We were just friends... if he liked me more than that, then why didn't he just say something?
I watched in disbelief as he slipped the note into my locker. He grinned sheepishly and begun walking toward class, when I jumped out from behind that corner. I don't know what intrigued me do it, but it was just a sudden urge as if I wanted Gordo to see me. As soon as I revealed myself, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
"Gordo!"
His eyes widened. "Lizzie?" He gasped, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
"So it was *you*."
"What was me?"
'Oh, don't play innocent with me, Mr.' I thought silently. 'I know you wrote those notes.' How could he deny something so obvious! I had caught him red-handed, slipping a note into my locker.
"The notes...?" I hinted, pointing at my locker.
"What notes?" He said innocently, clearly turning beet red.
'Well, well, well. Two can play this game.' I thought, and put my hands on my hips. "Oh, you know.. the secret love notes I've been getting for a MONTH?"
"Oh... those." He said in a voice below a whisper, probably regretting what he said. "I mean-you've been getting love notes?"
"Gordo...!" I exclaimed. "Don't give me this little 'innocent angel' act. You know what I'm talking about! Now tell me, why did you write those notes?"
His face softened, and he stared t me with his huge trusting eyes. "Guess."
I froze.
He *did* like me. It wasn't any joke. He wasn't ticking me into anything... it was real. The sweet notes, the little presents, the chocolate hearts... all courtesy of David Gordon. At first it made no sense... but it all began to sink in... and I felt different.
I think I liked him back.
I blinked. "You like me?" I asked, my heart beating a million times per millisecond.
He lowered his head, flushing red. "No... well, kind of."
"Are you sure?"
"Kind of."
"Are you lying?"
He squirmed uneasily. "Kind of."
"Do you really like me? If you say kind of, I'm going to smack you." I smiled at him.
"Uh... yeah... kind of."
I titled my head and looked at him knowingly.
"Yes! YES!!! I like you! I can't live without you. I think about you every waking moment of my life! What do you want from me?" He yelled, and started to stomp away.
I grabbed his shirttail. "You know what, Gordo?" I whispered in his ear.
He didn't answer.
"I think I like you too... kind of."
I had no idea where that had come from, but I had a hunch it had came from my heart. After all those poetic notes I got, I felt as if I were falling in love with the person who sent them to me. And when I had seen Gordo trying to slip a note into my locker, my I was pleased. Very pleased. As if... as if I had *wanted* Gordo to be the mystery guy.
He spun around staring at me with his face in an expression I'd never seen before. His mouth was in a twisted smile, but his eyes looked horribly confused. And even with all of this, he seemed to have no expression at all, as if he was staring at me blankly. And finally, for what seemed like the first time in hours, he spoke.
"For real?"
I nodded. "For real."
And suddenly, his face brightened up, like a lamp that had just been turned on. He closed his eyes and titled his head toward the ceiling. He whispered to it.
"Oh, thank you, God."
"Uh, Gordo?" I asked. "What are you doing?"
"Thanking God."
"For...what?"
He turned away so I could see his back. "What do you think?" He said softly.
"I think it's me."
"You're wrong."
"I am?"
"No."
"You're thanking god because I like you?"
"Yeah."
I smiled. "I think you're making me blush."
He sighed. "I think I'm falling in love." He gazed at me wistfully, and I blushed even deeper.
"With god?" I joked.
"No." He whispered, facing me again. "With you."
I felt flattered. He was so sweet! How come I had never noticed this before? 'Maybe you noticed,' I thought. 'Maybe you never paid attention to it.' I mean, here we were, in the middle of the hallway, (without hall passes, I must add, gazing into each other's eyes like forbidden lovers reunited. I honestly wanted to run away, go back to class, but something stopped me.
And I had a hunch it was him.
"Would you mind if I held your hand?" Gordo asked all of a sudden.
I cocked my head. "What type of guy asks a question like that?"
"A Gordo type of guy." He said, slipping his hands into mine.
Was it just me, or were Gordo and I holding hands?
I smiled lightly. "I think I like that type."
"Well, let's find out." Gordo sighed. "Would you mind if I kissed you?"
I giggled. "Kind of."
"Too bad." He said, and those were the last words spoken between us for the next five minutes.
He leaned toward me, and I leaned back. I could not believe what was happening. Was I really going to kiss Gordo?
His lips gradually met mine, just as I had thought. But what I hadn't thought was that he'd actually put his hands against my waist. The Gordo I knew would have never done that. He was too shy.
But the Gordo I knew had changed.
Even though he had the guts to wrap his arms around me (which felt so comfy), I could tell that he was clearly ready to have a nervous breakdown through all of this. I loved messing with him. To make him even more insecure, I put my arms around his neck, and started playing with his chocolate locks of hair. I felt him shiver again. It felt good to have an effect on someone.
And then, there we were, kissing in the middle of the hallway, with no one around, when I felt it.
I felt this shock run through my nerves. The familiar voice in my head was silent. All of my thoughts were gone. The whole universe was slipping underneath me, and what was left was only me and Gordo. We were in a state where nothing existed, except for us.
I heard fireworks and people cheering. I saw them in my head as well. But the only thing I felt, the only thing that mattered, were Gordo's lips against mine. So tender, so passionate... so wanting... it felt good. So good, like a day at the beach when the sun is shining on you. You feel this warmth, this protectiveness. No one can hurt you. It was such a homey feeling, feeling his lips, touching his hair, feeling his touch... I needed it. it was what I had lived fourteen years waiting for. Everything was so clear, so peaceful. I felt as if it could last forever.
Too bad it only lasted a few seconds.
Gordo unexpectedly pulled away, and my eyes flew open.
Everything came rushing back. The walls, the lockers, and the cold stare of the empty hallway as Gordo unclasped his arms and put them to his side.
His eyes widened and refused to look at me as he spoke. "Sorry." He whispered.
"Don't be." I said reasonably. "I liked it."
"Then I'm sorry I chickened out. I couldn't take it anymore. I was so- nervous. I was afraid you'd slap me." Gordo looked at his hands. "But I-"
"It's okay. I understand." I said, glancing at him, almost laughing because his lips were red from my smeared lipstick. "So... uh, did you feel anything?"
He finally looked at me, and I looked down. "You want the truth?"
"The whole truth."
"I loved every second of it. It felt amazing, Lizzie. I just wished it had lasted longer."
I grinned. "Happy Valentine's Day, Gordo." I said playfully.
He raised an eyebrow, his face morphing into an expression that made me want to melt. "Huh-?"
I hushed him as I pressed my lips against his once more, almost thriving for them, and let the glorious feeling flood back.
I wondered if he felt it.