Author's Note: I don't own the characters or the song "Today's the Day" by Aimee Mann. This chapter is from Gordo's POV, the next one will be Lizzie, and the one after that will be Miranda.
better pack
your bags and run
or stay until the job is done
maybe you can sit and hope
that providence will fray the rope
and sink like a stone
or go it alone
It's August. I'm sitting on my
suitcase at the bus station and all I can see is her face and all
I can feel is the guilt of a person who knows what he should be
able to give but just can't give that much of himself to her, not
anymore, not like this, not the way she wants it to be, not the
way it would be if they were together. I want her to understand
that when I did what I did that night after the prom I was just
trying to look at the big picture, I didn't want a moment, I
wanted forever, but it was impossible to see myself with her
forever, knowing what I've learned about her over the years.
Don't get me wrong; I love her, as a friend, and I'd like to
think I'd always be there for her if she needed my support and
that she'd always be there for me in the same situation. But I
know how her mind works, and a guy like me is not what she wants,
not now, even if she thinks she does, even if she thinks she's
seen the light. She wants a guy who can make her feel better
about herself and what she believes she deserves. And she doesn't
want one who will tell her that's a stupid way of looking at love
and she deserves everything and whether or not she has a
boyfriend should not factor into that decision.
I once thought I saw something special in her but now all I see
is the constant struggle to fit in, to be one of the people who
fits in without trying, and it just makes me sad.
and isn't it
enough for you?
isn't it enough?
I think it will be
forever burned into my memory, the last time I saw Lizzie.
It's the senior prom, and we both have dates, but she finally
sees what's always been right in front of her, she sees that he
isn't good enough for her, she sees me. We end up alone together,
my shoulder damp from her tears, as usual. She looks up and
smiles at me beatifically, expectantly, and I can tell just by
looking at her that this is her Moment, she's telling me: I'm
here, I'm finally ready, I'm finally free. And she wants me to
tell her that I've been waiting and that it isn't too late, but I
just can't say what I don't feel and I'm tired of this game
anyway. So I shuffle my feet and say, "I have to get back,
you know, Sarah... um, she's expecting me." Shell-shocked,
she nods, and I walk away, back to the dance, back to a date
whose name I barely remember, and now I'm the one who's finally
free, wondering if that wasn't the biggest mistake I've ever made
by leaving her behind or if it was the best thing I could have
done.
"Not cool, Gordo," Miranda told me over the phone the
next day, and I could hear her shaking her head in disapproval.
"I mean, whatever, okay, but guess who had to mop her up off
the floor after you left?"
"Well, I'm sorry you had to do that," I said carefully,
"but I just did what I needed to do. Just because she
finally realized that, hey, here's this guy who's always been
around, why didn't I notice him before? doesn't mean I'm going to
fall down at her feet saying, oh please, choose me!"
She sighed. "Look, I don't hold it against you, it's not
even really my business, I guess, and I see your point, but it's
just a bad situation, you know? I've got another call. Three
guesses as to who it might be. Later."
I flopped facedown on my bed. She was right. This was the worst
possible thing that could have happened. Why couldn't Lizzie have
simply been right about the jock du jour, and gone off with him
to live happily ever after, making tons of nice little
mini-jocks-du-jour and, I guess, finally getting what she always
wanted and having it turn out exactly the way she imagined it
would be. But no, yet again, this guy had to turn out to be the
guy everyone always knew he was; not a bad guy, maybe, but not
the guy Lizzie thought he would be underneath all the artifice of
popularity. The story always ends the same way. And I had to be
standing right there after it blew up in her face, that had to be
our Moment, the one I'd been waiting for since freshman year, the
one I thought I would welcome when it came along.
I guess I thought I was patient, that I could wait for her to see
me, that I would be content to sit on the sidelines waiting to be
called into the game, a last-minute replacement. Who could have
predicted that when I finally got the call, I wouldn't even want
it anymore?
so better
pack your bags and run
and send it to oblivion
where you don't look like anyone
that anyone would care about
and do what you do
'til it buries you
I saw her but we didn't talk at
graduation. I tried to call her a few times before I left for
college, but I guess she felt hurt by my failure to live up to
her expectations and frankly I just wasn't up to groveling, she
didn't deserve it. So I just left, and that day at the bus
station was probably the last time I looked back on our
friendship and its unfortunate end with genuine regret. It was
easy to disconnect, to pretend that last night was just like any
other and she was just somebody I once knew and we were just
something that could have happened and didn't.
For two years, I sat alone on campus, a million miles away from
that life, and often I just couldn't help feeling like an exile,
feeling sorry for myself, blending into the crowd of strangers
and disappearing altogether. At least my work benefited from my
angst; "happy people make boring movies"--that's like a
mantra for all the film students at school. Most of them have to
manufacture drama in their personal lives, but I on the other
hand have the advantage of having given away what I once believed
I wanted most and losing a friendship I would have treasured
forever if I could have held on, if this hadn't gone down like it
had.
isn't it
enough
like Major Reno at the bluff
wondering aloud if help is on the way
So now it's winter
break, sophomore year. Two years have passed and I'm heading home
for the first time; my parents are finally home from their last
European spree, and I'm trying to pretend it doesn't mean as much
to me as it does to be welcomed back to town by them, at least,
if not my old friends. I get an e-mail from Miranda that says she
won't be in town for two more days, but maybe we can hang out
while we're both at home.
The call comes on the second night I'm back. It isn't her; it's a
guy I barely knew from a couple of classes in high school. He's
acting like we were best friends, he's inviting me to a party,
and to my surprise I find I'm saying yes, of course I'll come, of
course I remember you.
I agreed to go because I couldn't pick up the phone and suck up
my pride and pretend I felt guilty about leaving or pretend that
I'd had a change of heart and suddenly I was in love again, but I
did want to see her, despite everything. I wanted to see how
college and time had changed her, if she'd changed at all. But
mostly, I wanted her to say she understood why I left her alone
that night, and I wanted to make her come back to me.
and isn't
this your chance
to make a break with circumstance?
isn't it enough to prove today's the day?
