Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it. If they did, I would be extremely rich, and pretty happy, because at least I would get to see Adam Lamberg on a fairly regular basis, which could never hurt. But the fact of the matter is that I don't own any of it. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
Author's note: This was originally intended to be an epic of some sort, but considering my many other projects going on, I decided to just shorten it into a one-shot deal (hence the lengthiness). Hope you enjoy. And if you don't, that's okay, too.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Endings and Beginnings
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
The pastor was delivering an impressive eulogy. Gordo bowed his head, not necessarily out of respect, although that was part of it. The major part was that he just didn't want to look at anyone around him.
Normally, he was a people watcher. He loved doing it, just sitting in a high-traffic area and watching everyone go by, with their eccentric clothes and their hairstyles and their groups of friends and their conversations and general mannerisms. But not today. God, not today.
He was sitting in the third pew back, flanked on either side by Lizzie and Miranda. On almost all occasions, Lizzie would be sitting in the middle. It was the way their friendship worked. Lizzie was equally best friends with Gordo and Miranda, but they naturally put her first and the other second. It wasn't a favoritism thing, really, it was just the way it was. Miranda associated better with Lizzie than she did with Gordo simply because of the girl factor. And Gordo had known Lizzie his entire life.
He thought back to last week, when he'd gotten the call. 'The call.' That was how it happened in movies and TV, he'd thought, it was ridiculous and trite and cliched. But really now, how else had he expected to receive the news? Carrier pigeon?
~~~~~
Gordo had been in his room, hunched over the keyboard, tapping out a script for his screenwriting class. He wasn't really interested in the whole Hollywood thing, documentaries were more his speed. But he figured it could never hurt to get some writing background under his belt, just in case he struck it big and was too famous for miniscule true-life films. (He could dream, right?)
"Yo, Dave, phone for you," barked the gruff voice of Gordo's roommate, Nick. Gordo rolled his eyes, saved the file, and accepted the receiver from Nick. He didn't like his roommate much. They had nothing in common, and Nick also had the annoying habit of bringing home a different girl almost every night.
"Hello?"
"David, it's your mother." She always said that when she called him, as if he wouldn't recognize her voice or wouldn't understand if she referred to herself as 'Mom'. Gordo's parents just got weirder with age.
"Hey, Mom, what's up?"
"I received a disturbing call this morning from Jo McGuire...apparently there was some sort of accident up at UCLA."
Gordo felt his blood freeze. Lizzie went to UCLA. He hadn't spoken to her since Friday, and it was Sunday now...oh, God...
"What is it? Is she okay?"
"Jo wasn't clear on the details, I'm afraid, there was a car accident, and no, she's not okay, she's in the hospital."
"Oh, God, Lizzie..."
"What?" Roberta Gordon sounded confused. "Lizzie's fine, David."
Now Gordo was confused. "But I thought you said..."
"No, dear, it wasn't Lizzie. Kate Sanders was the one in the accident."
Oh yeah...Kate went to UCLA, too. Still, even knowing that Lizzie was safe, Gordo didn't feel any better. "So how is Kate?"
"I'm not completely sure, but it doesn't look good, from what Jo said."
Gordo didn't know what to say. "Okay. Thanks for calling me."
"Sorry to have worried you."
Gordo hung up and frowned at his computer screen. Only a second passed before he punched in Lizzie's number.
One ring, two rings, three... "Hello?"
A wave of relief washed over Gordo just hearing her voice. "Lizzie, it's me."
"Hey, Gordo."
"I heard."
"Oh." She sounded awful. He told her as much. "Yeah, well, things here haven't been exactly great, you know?" she said, sighing.
"Not holding up so well, I take it?"
"I feel horrible," Lizzie admitted. "It's not like she and I were best friends or something. I mean, she got a little nicer after high school was over, 'cause there aren't that many cliques in college, just sororities, and since those are all about sisterhood and stuff, she pretty much had to be all nicey-nicey again, but even so, we still weren't very good friends. But I wouldn't wish anything like this on her, you know? So I feel awful."
Gordo put one hand to his temple and willed himself to approach this calmly. Lizzie couldn't help her nervous babble, she was going through some tough times. "Lizzie. Were you driving the car?"
"No," she said in a small voice.
"Then it's *not your fault,* okay? It just isn't. Calm down. It's good that you feel bad, even though Kate isn't the nicest person to you, but don't beat yourself up over something that you played no part in and can't control."
"I wish you were here, Gordo," she sighed.
He smiled ruefully, closing down his various computer programs and turning it off. "Yeah, me too."
"I know we talk a lot still, probably more than we did in high school ever, but it's just not the same. I miss you so much."
"I miss you too, Lizzie," Gordo said quietly. "Being on the opposite side of the country sucks."
"Totally. When are you coming home, Gordo?"
He had to laugh at that. "When I've done my time here. And even then, nothing is certain. Maybe I'll stay in New York. Maybe I'll move to L.A. Maybe I'll be jet-setting all over the world filming."
"No way!" Lizzie protested. "Only if you take me with you!"
Gordo laughed again. "Absolutely. You'll be my personal assistant."
"Yo. Dave. You done talkin' yet? I gotta finalize some plans for tonight," Nick said, appearing over Gordo's shoulder and holding his hand out expectantly for the phone.
Gordo sighed and rolled his eyes. "Liz, I gotta go, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks for calling."
"Of course. Listen, things are gonna be okay. And if you need to talk, don't hesitate to call. Don't worry about the time difference or anything, just if you feel overwhelmed or scared or you just wanna talk, just call me. Promise?"
"Promise. Thanks, Gordo. Bye."
He hung up and handed it over to Nick, who flounced on his bed and began chatting to some random girl. Gordo shook his head. He had to get out of there. He'd probably helped Lizzie to feel better, but he couldn't ease his own thoughts. Sure, he and Kate had never really gotten along that well, and she'd been awful to his two best friends, but that didn't mean he'd ever wished her harm. And especially not since it was clearly affecting Lizzie so much.
Gordo grabbed his key and left Nick alone with the phone, hoping that when he came back, Nick would be gone, or at the very least, not there with another new girl.
~~~~~
He took a long stroll on the streets of New York, and was there well past evening and into nightfall, enjoying the crisp breeze and the eccentric company. He didn't have a destination in mind, it was just a walk to clear his brain. Of what, he wasn't totally sure.
He really missed Lizzie. He missed Miranda too, and his parents, and Hillridge itself, but what he missed more than anything was Lizzie.
It wasn't that he still had that crush on her. That's all it was. A crush. Not love. Well yeah, he did love her, but as a friend. And seeing her date all those guys that were totally wrong for her hurt, but only because he wanted what was best for her. And those times where he'd just find himself staring at her were just because he thought she was beautiful.
Miranda said he was in denial.
Okay, so maybe he did spend hours upon hours on the phone with her. And maybe he sent her two emails a day. And maybe he did have a ton of pictures of her on his bulletin board. And maybe he did think about her a lot. But he wasn't in love with her! She was on the opposite side of the country. And it would just never work out between them...
Well, it could...
Gordo returned to his room who knew how late. Nick, thankfully, wasn't there. On Gordo's pillow there was a note scribbled on the back of one of Nick's assignments. Which was weird, becuase Nick never left notes and didn't take messages. "Yo, Dave," it read, and Gordo wondered for the millionth time if his name was 'Yo Dave,' "you got a bunch of calls from your mom and that Lizzie chick."
Blind panic seized Gordo. It had only been a few hours. Things couldn't have changed that drastically in a few hours, could they have? He reached for the phone, and found it wasn't there. Gordo tore through Nick's side of the room, looking for it, and finally found it on top of a grungy sweatshirt on the floor. He wondered who he should call first, Lizzie or his mom, and called Lizzie.
"He-hello?"
"Liz? What's wrong?"
"Gordo...it's...it's..." Lizzie sniffled. "It's Kate."
"Is she okay?"
"No, she's not." Another sniffle. "She's...she didn't make it, Gordo."
He felt empty, like something had been sucked out of him. All of this for a girl he'd barely liked. It was more likely that the source of this feeling came from how badly it was devastating Lizzie. She started sobbing now, over the phone, and the sound of it wrenched him. He would've given everything he had to be back in California with her that moment, holding her, being her rock.
"Lizzie, I'm so sorry," he said. He didn't know if that was what he was supposed to say. He didn't know if there was anything he should say.
Lizzie did the talking for him, which was common in situations like this. "She's gone. She's just...gone. I know we haven't really gotten along for more than a few hours since the sixth grade, but god, Gordo, she was a friend, sort of, and now she's gone. Just like that. For no good reason."
"I know, I know," he said softly. "It just doesn't seem fair."
"No," she agreed.
"So when's the service?" he asked.
"I don't know yet," she said. "Not that it matters."
"How can you say that? Of course it matters."
"Well, I imagine it'll be pretty soon, and don't you have school?" she said pointedly.
"This is important," he said. "Kate deserves that I pay my respects, and besides, I want to be there for you." Had he really just said that? He and Lizzie had become a lot more affectionate since college had started, out of loneliness, but that had sounded like a blatant submission.
Fortunately for him, Lizzie didn't read anything into it. "I don't know when it is, but I'll find out."
"And I'll be there," he swore.
Lizzie sniffled again. "I'm gonna let you go," she said. "I should get some sleep."
"And I need to call my mom," he said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay."
"And, Lizzie?"
"Yeah?"
"It's gonna be okay. I don't exactly know how just yet, but it's all gonna be okay again."
"Night, Gordo."
"Night."
~~~~~
Gordo glanced out of the corner of his eye at Lizzie, huddled against him. She looked small. Small, sad, and scared. He put an arm around her shoulders and held her tightly, trying to transfer his strength into her through osmosis. On his other side, Miranda was looking a lot more strong. She, like he was, wasn't that affected by Kate's death. Kate had been decidedly more awful to Miranda than she'd been to Lizzie, and Miranda, while upset, couldn't deny that she still resented Kate.
He looked again at Lizzie. For once she wasn't wearing makeup. Maybe she'd known that she'd be crying non-stop and hadn't bothered with excessive mascara application. She looked raw, and not just from the tears and the sniffling. This was the *real* Lizzie, the one he knew lurked under the valley girl facade. The one who was more caring and perfect than anyone knew.
His attention once again rested on the pastor. The man was standing next to a large photo of Kate, her senior picture. She was grinning widely, wearing that smug I'm-Kate-Sanders-who-the-hell-are-you? expression that Gordo knew all too well. She was beautiful, even blown up and transferred to black and white.
Kate would have loved the fact that so many people were gathering here to celebrate her existence. But it wasn't out of worship, and certainly not out of fear, as she'd loved, but out of pity. And if she wasn't already dead, that alone would have killed her.
Everyone was equal in death, Gordo mused. No one was or ever would be better than anyone else. Kate's entire life had been based around the fact that she was in some way superior to those that surrounded her. And now, she wasn't. She was beneath them, both figuratively and literally.
It was weird, Kate being gone. Well, it wasn't that weird, because they'd been at opposite sides of the country for about seven months now. But now she was gone permanently.
In the front pew was the entire Sanders clan. Kate's mother, weeping quietly. Seated next to her was her second husband, Kate's stepfather. Gordo recognized Kate's dad and her cousin Amy, and figured that the others were the aunt and uncle, the grandmother, and the stepsister. He knew that the young, good-looking guy sitting at the very end was Kate's boyfriend, looking completely destroyed. He was wan, almost lifeless, staring forward resolutely, past tears.
If someone could love Kate...vicious, vengeful, mean, conniving Kate...and care for her this much when she was gone...
Gordo felt himself staring at Lizzie yet again. She had stopped crying, but was still distraught. Lizzie was perfect, and while he'd never taken their friendship for granted, he couldn't fathom life without her. What Kate's death was doing to her nameless boyfriend, Lizzie's death would do to Gordo a thousand-fold.
He drew her in, so close she was practically in his lap, and put his arms around her tightly.
It was time he stopped denying himself. Gordo loved Lizzie. He loved her as a friend, as a person, as maybe something more. If he lost her, he didn't know what he would do. And he could lose her at any second, because that was all the time it took for a life to be extinguished.
People were getting up now, starting to file out of the church. Miranda looked at Gordo and Lizzie, offered them a half-hearted smile, touched Gordo's shoulder, and left. She understood, was what her simple action had conveyed, and she'd be waiting outside for them.
Soon all that was left was the boyfriend, gazing at the enlarged photo of Kate, and two pews back, Lizzie, enveloped in Gordo's safe and loving embrace.
Slowly the boyfriend got up, climbed the steps, and gently kissed the photograph. He started down the aisle, pausing to look at the other two. "Don't ever let her go," he advised Gordo.
Gordo nodded resolutely.
The boyfriend ventured a smile, but his pain was too raw, and it never came, only a grimace. And he was gone.
~~~~~
That night in Gordo's room, he opened his closet. His mother had said that she'd rented him a suit for tomorrow's funeral. There it was, hanging on the back of the door, black and silent. He lifted it off and put it on his bed. He was going to try it on to make sure that it fit. Gordo's mom meant well, but she hadn't realized how much her son had grown since entering college.
As Gordo turned his eyes back to the closet, ready to close the door, he caught sight of a photograph pasted on it, hidden from the eyes of the public.
Him and Lizzie.
Actually, it was two photographs. The one from middle school, the fateful picture where Lizzie had kissed his cheek. His face burned from the memory of it. The second photo was from high school graduation. Him and Lizzie next to each other, in blue caps and gowns, arms wrapped around each other as they hammed it up for the camera. Lizzie's mouth was opened in a cheerful shriek, and Gordo was wearing a mischievous grin as he lifted her off the ground.
He remembered that day all too well, the day he'd promised himself that he would let Lizzie go. That he would move on with his life in college, that he would find someone else.
He still hadn't found anyone else. He hadn't wanted to. He wanted Lizzie, plain and simple. He always had, he probably always would.
Gordo closed the closet door, ignored the suit on his bed, and reached for his phone. He had a call to make.
~~~~~
At the funeral the next day, Gordo stood separate from his parents. They were in full-on psychologist mode, offering coping advice to anyone who would listen. He was off in a quiet corner of hte crowd with Lizzie and Miranda.
The suit had fit, for once. Throughout middle school they'd been a tad too big, and then in high school a tad too small, but finally something was right. It was a shame that everything else had to be wrong. That a person he'd known most of his life had died, that he was on the opposite side of the country from the people he cared about most.
He stood between them, his two girls, his two closest friends, even when an entire country separated them. Gordo at NYU, Lizzie at UCLA, Miranda at U of Texas. God, how he missed them, knowing that he couldn't always call them up on three-way when he had the urge, because erratic class schedules and annoying time zone differences were standing in his way. His one arm was around Lizzie's waist, holding her close to him, his other hand holding Miranda's.
They cried. Even he cried a little as the casket was lowered in the ground.
Then it was over, and people milled about. Miranda and Lizzie spotted some people they'd known in high school and wandered over to say hi, while Gordo held back and relaxed from the blazing sun under a tree.
He watched while Lizzie talked with Ethan Craft, commiserating over their losses, then easing into light chatter about life after high school. Even when she was smiling, even from this distance, Gordo could see that Lizzie was still pained. He would give anything to make that go away.
He was entirely prepared to.
It was now or never. As the crowd dispersed, people going to their cars, Gordo informed his parents that he would be sticking around with Lizzie. They nodded. The Sanchezes left with Miranda in tow. Lizzie remained behind as her parents talked to the former Mrs. Sanders, and the McGuires, Gordo, and Kate's boyfriend were the only non-family members remaining.
"Lizzie, I have to talk to you," Gordo said, grasping her arm gently and leading her away. Her skin was soft and smooth under his hand, her muscles subtle but toned, her body mature, looking elegant and yet restrained in a simple black dress, with her long blond hair down loose. She looked beautiful, and Gordo felt like he was seeing her for the first time in months, and his breath caught in his throat.
"Gordo?" Lizzie asked, and her voice brought him crashing to reality. "Is everything okay?"
He let his hand trail down her arm and clasped her own hand slightly. "Lizzie...this may not be the best time for me to say something like this," he started. He frowned, staring at the manicured lawn of the cemetery, trying to form his jumbled thoughts. "But yesterday I was thinking how awful it would be to lose you, and..." He sighed.
"I'm not going anywhere, Gordo," she said softly, rubbing her thumb over his palm in a reassuring gesture.
"You know what I mean. I could lose you at any moment, and God, Lizzie, I can't let another day go by without telling you the truth, regardless of the outcome." Finally he forced himself to meet her eyes. "Lizzie, I love you. Not just a friendly love, although I do love you as a friend, as my best and closest friend, and I'd hate us to not ever be friends. But I honestly love you, like I can't imagine a day without you. And I...I just had to tell you. Life is too short for me to pretend like it's not the truth."
She dropped her gaze, but still held his hand. "Oh."
"I know, I know, you're freaked out," he said. "And I'm sorry for that. I hate that this could ruin what we have, but I couldn't let this go. I'm sorry."
"No, don't be sorry. This whole thing is bringing out the weird in everyone. I mean! Not that this is weird...I mean...I don't know," she sighed.
"I'm going to transfer," Gordo said.
She looked up sharply. "What?"
"I'm transferring out of NYU."
"To where?"
"I don't know yet. Somewhere in California."
"Gordo...why? Is it...is it because of me?" Lizzie said nervously, biting her lip.
"Yes. No. I don't know. Maybe. I just...New York isn't the place for me, I don't think. School's fun, but it's not as challenging as I would've thought, and I hate my roommate, and it gets kinda cold in New York..."
"You could go to UCLA..." Lizzie hedged. "We could have classes together, drink coffee, play Frisbee on the quad..."
"Act like we live in the brochure?" he said, venturing a smile.
She smiled back. "Yeah."
"That would be cool. We don't have a quad."
"Would your credits transfer and stuff?"
"I already called my adviser, he said everything would probably work out. I'd have to finish out the semester first, but it's almost over anyway." He paused. "Are you upset?"
"Upset? That I might get to see you every day? Never!"
He had to smile at that, but that wasn't what he had meant. "No, about...you know...my little confession."
"Gordo, I'm honored that someone as...as...*cool* as you would love me..." Lizzie said.
That wasn't exactly the response he'd been hoping for, but then again, he hadn't honestly expected her to throw herself at his feet and promise eternal love. In truth, he really was giving it up for her. Yeah, the reasons he'd given, those all factored in the equation, but it seemed a bit too much too soon to tell Lizzie that he would give up everything for her.
Even if she never loved him back, he would be happy just to be near her.
"I could never ask you to leave New York."
"I'm doing it of my own free will," he insisted. "You never did ask me."
"Are you sure, Gordo?" Lizzie asked, concerned.
He took her other hand and he swung them apart and together. "I'm positive. Live without regrets."
"Maybe...maybe sometime we could go on a date, then. When you get here. You know, break you into UCLA's night life."
Hope lit his face. He could feel it. Lizzie was trying, she really was. That meant she cared enough about him to not run from the declaration of his feelings. "You mean that?"
She graced him with a beautiful smile. "Of course."
His grin was ear-to-ear. "Cool."
"Yeah," she said decisively. "Cool."
"Lizzie? Honey, we're leaving now," Mrs. McGuire called softly across the grounds.
"I'm gonna walk with Gordo, Mom," Lizzie replied, and her mother nodded, leading her husband and son to the car. Lizzie and Gordo watched them go. "Guess you're stuck with me now," Lizzie said.
"I can't think of anything better," he said.
To leave, they had walk past Kate's new grave. Gordo and Lizzie bowed their head in respect. "I hate to say it, but something good could come from all the bad," Lizzie said.
Gordo squeezed her hand. "I hope so."
He felt positive.
Author's note: This was originally intended to be an epic of some sort, but considering my many other projects going on, I decided to just shorten it into a one-shot deal (hence the lengthiness). Hope you enjoy. And if you don't, that's okay, too.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Endings and Beginnings
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
The pastor was delivering an impressive eulogy. Gordo bowed his head, not necessarily out of respect, although that was part of it. The major part was that he just didn't want to look at anyone around him.
Normally, he was a people watcher. He loved doing it, just sitting in a high-traffic area and watching everyone go by, with their eccentric clothes and their hairstyles and their groups of friends and their conversations and general mannerisms. But not today. God, not today.
He was sitting in the third pew back, flanked on either side by Lizzie and Miranda. On almost all occasions, Lizzie would be sitting in the middle. It was the way their friendship worked. Lizzie was equally best friends with Gordo and Miranda, but they naturally put her first and the other second. It wasn't a favoritism thing, really, it was just the way it was. Miranda associated better with Lizzie than she did with Gordo simply because of the girl factor. And Gordo had known Lizzie his entire life.
He thought back to last week, when he'd gotten the call. 'The call.' That was how it happened in movies and TV, he'd thought, it was ridiculous and trite and cliched. But really now, how else had he expected to receive the news? Carrier pigeon?
~~~~~
Gordo had been in his room, hunched over the keyboard, tapping out a script for his screenwriting class. He wasn't really interested in the whole Hollywood thing, documentaries were more his speed. But he figured it could never hurt to get some writing background under his belt, just in case he struck it big and was too famous for miniscule true-life films. (He could dream, right?)
"Yo, Dave, phone for you," barked the gruff voice of Gordo's roommate, Nick. Gordo rolled his eyes, saved the file, and accepted the receiver from Nick. He didn't like his roommate much. They had nothing in common, and Nick also had the annoying habit of bringing home a different girl almost every night.
"Hello?"
"David, it's your mother." She always said that when she called him, as if he wouldn't recognize her voice or wouldn't understand if she referred to herself as 'Mom'. Gordo's parents just got weirder with age.
"Hey, Mom, what's up?"
"I received a disturbing call this morning from Jo McGuire...apparently there was some sort of accident up at UCLA."
Gordo felt his blood freeze. Lizzie went to UCLA. He hadn't spoken to her since Friday, and it was Sunday now...oh, God...
"What is it? Is she okay?"
"Jo wasn't clear on the details, I'm afraid, there was a car accident, and no, she's not okay, she's in the hospital."
"Oh, God, Lizzie..."
"What?" Roberta Gordon sounded confused. "Lizzie's fine, David."
Now Gordo was confused. "But I thought you said..."
"No, dear, it wasn't Lizzie. Kate Sanders was the one in the accident."
Oh yeah...Kate went to UCLA, too. Still, even knowing that Lizzie was safe, Gordo didn't feel any better. "So how is Kate?"
"I'm not completely sure, but it doesn't look good, from what Jo said."
Gordo didn't know what to say. "Okay. Thanks for calling me."
"Sorry to have worried you."
Gordo hung up and frowned at his computer screen. Only a second passed before he punched in Lizzie's number.
One ring, two rings, three... "Hello?"
A wave of relief washed over Gordo just hearing her voice. "Lizzie, it's me."
"Hey, Gordo."
"I heard."
"Oh." She sounded awful. He told her as much. "Yeah, well, things here haven't been exactly great, you know?" she said, sighing.
"Not holding up so well, I take it?"
"I feel horrible," Lizzie admitted. "It's not like she and I were best friends or something. I mean, she got a little nicer after high school was over, 'cause there aren't that many cliques in college, just sororities, and since those are all about sisterhood and stuff, she pretty much had to be all nicey-nicey again, but even so, we still weren't very good friends. But I wouldn't wish anything like this on her, you know? So I feel awful."
Gordo put one hand to his temple and willed himself to approach this calmly. Lizzie couldn't help her nervous babble, she was going through some tough times. "Lizzie. Were you driving the car?"
"No," she said in a small voice.
"Then it's *not your fault,* okay? It just isn't. Calm down. It's good that you feel bad, even though Kate isn't the nicest person to you, but don't beat yourself up over something that you played no part in and can't control."
"I wish you were here, Gordo," she sighed.
He smiled ruefully, closing down his various computer programs and turning it off. "Yeah, me too."
"I know we talk a lot still, probably more than we did in high school ever, but it's just not the same. I miss you so much."
"I miss you too, Lizzie," Gordo said quietly. "Being on the opposite side of the country sucks."
"Totally. When are you coming home, Gordo?"
He had to laugh at that. "When I've done my time here. And even then, nothing is certain. Maybe I'll stay in New York. Maybe I'll move to L.A. Maybe I'll be jet-setting all over the world filming."
"No way!" Lizzie protested. "Only if you take me with you!"
Gordo laughed again. "Absolutely. You'll be my personal assistant."
"Yo. Dave. You done talkin' yet? I gotta finalize some plans for tonight," Nick said, appearing over Gordo's shoulder and holding his hand out expectantly for the phone.
Gordo sighed and rolled his eyes. "Liz, I gotta go, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks for calling."
"Of course. Listen, things are gonna be okay. And if you need to talk, don't hesitate to call. Don't worry about the time difference or anything, just if you feel overwhelmed or scared or you just wanna talk, just call me. Promise?"
"Promise. Thanks, Gordo. Bye."
He hung up and handed it over to Nick, who flounced on his bed and began chatting to some random girl. Gordo shook his head. He had to get out of there. He'd probably helped Lizzie to feel better, but he couldn't ease his own thoughts. Sure, he and Kate had never really gotten along that well, and she'd been awful to his two best friends, but that didn't mean he'd ever wished her harm. And especially not since it was clearly affecting Lizzie so much.
Gordo grabbed his key and left Nick alone with the phone, hoping that when he came back, Nick would be gone, or at the very least, not there with another new girl.
~~~~~
He took a long stroll on the streets of New York, and was there well past evening and into nightfall, enjoying the crisp breeze and the eccentric company. He didn't have a destination in mind, it was just a walk to clear his brain. Of what, he wasn't totally sure.
He really missed Lizzie. He missed Miranda too, and his parents, and Hillridge itself, but what he missed more than anything was Lizzie.
It wasn't that he still had that crush on her. That's all it was. A crush. Not love. Well yeah, he did love her, but as a friend. And seeing her date all those guys that were totally wrong for her hurt, but only because he wanted what was best for her. And those times where he'd just find himself staring at her were just because he thought she was beautiful.
Miranda said he was in denial.
Okay, so maybe he did spend hours upon hours on the phone with her. And maybe he sent her two emails a day. And maybe he did have a ton of pictures of her on his bulletin board. And maybe he did think about her a lot. But he wasn't in love with her! She was on the opposite side of the country. And it would just never work out between them...
Well, it could...
Gordo returned to his room who knew how late. Nick, thankfully, wasn't there. On Gordo's pillow there was a note scribbled on the back of one of Nick's assignments. Which was weird, becuase Nick never left notes and didn't take messages. "Yo, Dave," it read, and Gordo wondered for the millionth time if his name was 'Yo Dave,' "you got a bunch of calls from your mom and that Lizzie chick."
Blind panic seized Gordo. It had only been a few hours. Things couldn't have changed that drastically in a few hours, could they have? He reached for the phone, and found it wasn't there. Gordo tore through Nick's side of the room, looking for it, and finally found it on top of a grungy sweatshirt on the floor. He wondered who he should call first, Lizzie or his mom, and called Lizzie.
"He-hello?"
"Liz? What's wrong?"
"Gordo...it's...it's..." Lizzie sniffled. "It's Kate."
"Is she okay?"
"No, she's not." Another sniffle. "She's...she didn't make it, Gordo."
He felt empty, like something had been sucked out of him. All of this for a girl he'd barely liked. It was more likely that the source of this feeling came from how badly it was devastating Lizzie. She started sobbing now, over the phone, and the sound of it wrenched him. He would've given everything he had to be back in California with her that moment, holding her, being her rock.
"Lizzie, I'm so sorry," he said. He didn't know if that was what he was supposed to say. He didn't know if there was anything he should say.
Lizzie did the talking for him, which was common in situations like this. "She's gone. She's just...gone. I know we haven't really gotten along for more than a few hours since the sixth grade, but god, Gordo, she was a friend, sort of, and now she's gone. Just like that. For no good reason."
"I know, I know," he said softly. "It just doesn't seem fair."
"No," she agreed.
"So when's the service?" he asked.
"I don't know yet," she said. "Not that it matters."
"How can you say that? Of course it matters."
"Well, I imagine it'll be pretty soon, and don't you have school?" she said pointedly.
"This is important," he said. "Kate deserves that I pay my respects, and besides, I want to be there for you." Had he really just said that? He and Lizzie had become a lot more affectionate since college had started, out of loneliness, but that had sounded like a blatant submission.
Fortunately for him, Lizzie didn't read anything into it. "I don't know when it is, but I'll find out."
"And I'll be there," he swore.
Lizzie sniffled again. "I'm gonna let you go," she said. "I should get some sleep."
"And I need to call my mom," he said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay."
"And, Lizzie?"
"Yeah?"
"It's gonna be okay. I don't exactly know how just yet, but it's all gonna be okay again."
"Night, Gordo."
"Night."
~~~~~
Gordo glanced out of the corner of his eye at Lizzie, huddled against him. She looked small. Small, sad, and scared. He put an arm around her shoulders and held her tightly, trying to transfer his strength into her through osmosis. On his other side, Miranda was looking a lot more strong. She, like he was, wasn't that affected by Kate's death. Kate had been decidedly more awful to Miranda than she'd been to Lizzie, and Miranda, while upset, couldn't deny that she still resented Kate.
He looked again at Lizzie. For once she wasn't wearing makeup. Maybe she'd known that she'd be crying non-stop and hadn't bothered with excessive mascara application. She looked raw, and not just from the tears and the sniffling. This was the *real* Lizzie, the one he knew lurked under the valley girl facade. The one who was more caring and perfect than anyone knew.
His attention once again rested on the pastor. The man was standing next to a large photo of Kate, her senior picture. She was grinning widely, wearing that smug I'm-Kate-Sanders-who-the-hell-are-you? expression that Gordo knew all too well. She was beautiful, even blown up and transferred to black and white.
Kate would have loved the fact that so many people were gathering here to celebrate her existence. But it wasn't out of worship, and certainly not out of fear, as she'd loved, but out of pity. And if she wasn't already dead, that alone would have killed her.
Everyone was equal in death, Gordo mused. No one was or ever would be better than anyone else. Kate's entire life had been based around the fact that she was in some way superior to those that surrounded her. And now, she wasn't. She was beneath them, both figuratively and literally.
It was weird, Kate being gone. Well, it wasn't that weird, because they'd been at opposite sides of the country for about seven months now. But now she was gone permanently.
In the front pew was the entire Sanders clan. Kate's mother, weeping quietly. Seated next to her was her second husband, Kate's stepfather. Gordo recognized Kate's dad and her cousin Amy, and figured that the others were the aunt and uncle, the grandmother, and the stepsister. He knew that the young, good-looking guy sitting at the very end was Kate's boyfriend, looking completely destroyed. He was wan, almost lifeless, staring forward resolutely, past tears.
If someone could love Kate...vicious, vengeful, mean, conniving Kate...and care for her this much when she was gone...
Gordo felt himself staring at Lizzie yet again. She had stopped crying, but was still distraught. Lizzie was perfect, and while he'd never taken their friendship for granted, he couldn't fathom life without her. What Kate's death was doing to her nameless boyfriend, Lizzie's death would do to Gordo a thousand-fold.
He drew her in, so close she was practically in his lap, and put his arms around her tightly.
It was time he stopped denying himself. Gordo loved Lizzie. He loved her as a friend, as a person, as maybe something more. If he lost her, he didn't know what he would do. And he could lose her at any second, because that was all the time it took for a life to be extinguished.
People were getting up now, starting to file out of the church. Miranda looked at Gordo and Lizzie, offered them a half-hearted smile, touched Gordo's shoulder, and left. She understood, was what her simple action had conveyed, and she'd be waiting outside for them.
Soon all that was left was the boyfriend, gazing at the enlarged photo of Kate, and two pews back, Lizzie, enveloped in Gordo's safe and loving embrace.
Slowly the boyfriend got up, climbed the steps, and gently kissed the photograph. He started down the aisle, pausing to look at the other two. "Don't ever let her go," he advised Gordo.
Gordo nodded resolutely.
The boyfriend ventured a smile, but his pain was too raw, and it never came, only a grimace. And he was gone.
~~~~~
That night in Gordo's room, he opened his closet. His mother had said that she'd rented him a suit for tomorrow's funeral. There it was, hanging on the back of the door, black and silent. He lifted it off and put it on his bed. He was going to try it on to make sure that it fit. Gordo's mom meant well, but she hadn't realized how much her son had grown since entering college.
As Gordo turned his eyes back to the closet, ready to close the door, he caught sight of a photograph pasted on it, hidden from the eyes of the public.
Him and Lizzie.
Actually, it was two photographs. The one from middle school, the fateful picture where Lizzie had kissed his cheek. His face burned from the memory of it. The second photo was from high school graduation. Him and Lizzie next to each other, in blue caps and gowns, arms wrapped around each other as they hammed it up for the camera. Lizzie's mouth was opened in a cheerful shriek, and Gordo was wearing a mischievous grin as he lifted her off the ground.
He remembered that day all too well, the day he'd promised himself that he would let Lizzie go. That he would move on with his life in college, that he would find someone else.
He still hadn't found anyone else. He hadn't wanted to. He wanted Lizzie, plain and simple. He always had, he probably always would.
Gordo closed the closet door, ignored the suit on his bed, and reached for his phone. He had a call to make.
~~~~~
At the funeral the next day, Gordo stood separate from his parents. They were in full-on psychologist mode, offering coping advice to anyone who would listen. He was off in a quiet corner of hte crowd with Lizzie and Miranda.
The suit had fit, for once. Throughout middle school they'd been a tad too big, and then in high school a tad too small, but finally something was right. It was a shame that everything else had to be wrong. That a person he'd known most of his life had died, that he was on the opposite side of the country from the people he cared about most.
He stood between them, his two girls, his two closest friends, even when an entire country separated them. Gordo at NYU, Lizzie at UCLA, Miranda at U of Texas. God, how he missed them, knowing that he couldn't always call them up on three-way when he had the urge, because erratic class schedules and annoying time zone differences were standing in his way. His one arm was around Lizzie's waist, holding her close to him, his other hand holding Miranda's.
They cried. Even he cried a little as the casket was lowered in the ground.
Then it was over, and people milled about. Miranda and Lizzie spotted some people they'd known in high school and wandered over to say hi, while Gordo held back and relaxed from the blazing sun under a tree.
He watched while Lizzie talked with Ethan Craft, commiserating over their losses, then easing into light chatter about life after high school. Even when she was smiling, even from this distance, Gordo could see that Lizzie was still pained. He would give anything to make that go away.
He was entirely prepared to.
It was now or never. As the crowd dispersed, people going to their cars, Gordo informed his parents that he would be sticking around with Lizzie. They nodded. The Sanchezes left with Miranda in tow. Lizzie remained behind as her parents talked to the former Mrs. Sanders, and the McGuires, Gordo, and Kate's boyfriend were the only non-family members remaining.
"Lizzie, I have to talk to you," Gordo said, grasping her arm gently and leading her away. Her skin was soft and smooth under his hand, her muscles subtle but toned, her body mature, looking elegant and yet restrained in a simple black dress, with her long blond hair down loose. She looked beautiful, and Gordo felt like he was seeing her for the first time in months, and his breath caught in his throat.
"Gordo?" Lizzie asked, and her voice brought him crashing to reality. "Is everything okay?"
He let his hand trail down her arm and clasped her own hand slightly. "Lizzie...this may not be the best time for me to say something like this," he started. He frowned, staring at the manicured lawn of the cemetery, trying to form his jumbled thoughts. "But yesterday I was thinking how awful it would be to lose you, and..." He sighed.
"I'm not going anywhere, Gordo," she said softly, rubbing her thumb over his palm in a reassuring gesture.
"You know what I mean. I could lose you at any moment, and God, Lizzie, I can't let another day go by without telling you the truth, regardless of the outcome." Finally he forced himself to meet her eyes. "Lizzie, I love you. Not just a friendly love, although I do love you as a friend, as my best and closest friend, and I'd hate us to not ever be friends. But I honestly love you, like I can't imagine a day without you. And I...I just had to tell you. Life is too short for me to pretend like it's not the truth."
She dropped her gaze, but still held his hand. "Oh."
"I know, I know, you're freaked out," he said. "And I'm sorry for that. I hate that this could ruin what we have, but I couldn't let this go. I'm sorry."
"No, don't be sorry. This whole thing is bringing out the weird in everyone. I mean! Not that this is weird...I mean...I don't know," she sighed.
"I'm going to transfer," Gordo said.
She looked up sharply. "What?"
"I'm transferring out of NYU."
"To where?"
"I don't know yet. Somewhere in California."
"Gordo...why? Is it...is it because of me?" Lizzie said nervously, biting her lip.
"Yes. No. I don't know. Maybe. I just...New York isn't the place for me, I don't think. School's fun, but it's not as challenging as I would've thought, and I hate my roommate, and it gets kinda cold in New York..."
"You could go to UCLA..." Lizzie hedged. "We could have classes together, drink coffee, play Frisbee on the quad..."
"Act like we live in the brochure?" he said, venturing a smile.
She smiled back. "Yeah."
"That would be cool. We don't have a quad."
"Would your credits transfer and stuff?"
"I already called my adviser, he said everything would probably work out. I'd have to finish out the semester first, but it's almost over anyway." He paused. "Are you upset?"
"Upset? That I might get to see you every day? Never!"
He had to smile at that, but that wasn't what he had meant. "No, about...you know...my little confession."
"Gordo, I'm honored that someone as...as...*cool* as you would love me..." Lizzie said.
That wasn't exactly the response he'd been hoping for, but then again, he hadn't honestly expected her to throw herself at his feet and promise eternal love. In truth, he really was giving it up for her. Yeah, the reasons he'd given, those all factored in the equation, but it seemed a bit too much too soon to tell Lizzie that he would give up everything for her.
Even if she never loved him back, he would be happy just to be near her.
"I could never ask you to leave New York."
"I'm doing it of my own free will," he insisted. "You never did ask me."
"Are you sure, Gordo?" Lizzie asked, concerned.
He took her other hand and he swung them apart and together. "I'm positive. Live without regrets."
"Maybe...maybe sometime we could go on a date, then. When you get here. You know, break you into UCLA's night life."
Hope lit his face. He could feel it. Lizzie was trying, she really was. That meant she cared enough about him to not run from the declaration of his feelings. "You mean that?"
She graced him with a beautiful smile. "Of course."
His grin was ear-to-ear. "Cool."
"Yeah," she said decisively. "Cool."
"Lizzie? Honey, we're leaving now," Mrs. McGuire called softly across the grounds.
"I'm gonna walk with Gordo, Mom," Lizzie replied, and her mother nodded, leading her husband and son to the car. Lizzie and Gordo watched them go. "Guess you're stuck with me now," Lizzie said.
"I can't think of anything better," he said.
To leave, they had walk past Kate's new grave. Gordo and Lizzie bowed their head in respect. "I hate to say it, but something good could come from all the bad," Lizzie said.
Gordo squeezed her hand. "I hope so."
He felt positive.