I'm Ok
Chapter one
A/n: This is my first Lizzie McGuire story. It's been a while since I've written fan fiction, but I figured I'd give it another shot. The continuation of this story depends solely on the feedback I receive. The more positive reviews, the more likely I'll be to update.
The story is based lightly on the song "I'm Ok" by Christina Aguilera. This chapter is pretty light, but future chapters will contain strong themes. I do now own any of the characters of Lizzie McGuire. This is fiction, made up in my sick little mind. I hope you like it. Please let me know.
It was always just us. Just the three of us as an inseparable trio of friendship, fun and girl talk minus Gordo. We would sit in my room for hours and do absolutely nothing productive and yet somehow still manage not to care that we were missing the biggest high school party of the year. We were missing it together and that was all that mattered to us. Miranda would bring her mom's famous homemade butter cookies and my mom would make sure that we shared with Matt. Tonight it was snowing and Miranda and I sat on the end of my bed, picking at the tinfoil wrapping covering the plate of cookies and the phone was in her hand.
"You don't think something could have happened do you?" she asked, pressing numbers on the cordless despite the fact that it wasn't turned on.
"No. He's probably just running a little late." I had to be the reasonable one. Miranda was known for falling apart.
"Yeah.two hours late." She mumbled under her breath, but she knew I could hear.
And I had to admit that she was right. He was usually the early one, waiting for one of us to show up. She tossed the phone onto my lap.
"Call him."
"Why me?"
"Your house." Was her only excuse but I knew she was just scared. Not scared that he wouldn't be home, but more than likely scared that his father would pick up. He wasn't very fond of either of us, but appeared to dislike Miranda a little more than me for some reason. So I dialed the number.
I waited a few seconds. "Um, is David there?"
Miranda laughed a little at the way my voice wavered and I stood from my spot on the pink bedspread and began pacing the floor in a faint attempt to ignore her. I waited for the response on the other end of the line and when none came I cleared my throat a little.
"No. He went out for the night." Who is this?"
"Lizzie, could you just tell him I called?"
"Yeah." And with that he hung up.
I tossed the phone back down on the bed and stared at it for a minute before sitting again. I huffed.
"Not home."
"I figured." She looked uneasy and stood up. "It's cold in here."
"Where could he have gone? He's known for a week that we had plans tonight. I reminded him like, a million times in school today."
"Maybe." It was like something out of a horror movie when the doorbell shrieked through the house. And after jumping a mile, our sighs of relief could be heard for years.
"I'm going to kick his ass." Miranda whispered after opening my bedroom door and bounding down the staircase.
I pushed ahead of her. "Not if I get to him first." I swung the front door open, expecting an immediate apology on the other side. Instead I was met with a teary smile, a barely there hello and downcast eyes.
"Gordo?" It wasn't really a question. I was just having trouble getting my brain to work with my tongue. I think I smiled, but I can't be sure.
"Gordo, what happened?" Miranda sounded angry, but I don't think she was about to kick anyone's ass anymore.
"I.can I come in? It's kind of cold out here."
I opened the door a little more and he scuffed his feet on the welcome mat, brushing snow out of his hair lightly.
"Sorry I'm late." He never lifted his eyes from the floor.
My stomach was doing flips, my hands were shaking and I couldn't tear my gaze away from the bruise on his left cheek.
"What happened?" Miranda questioned again, stepping closer to him this time.
He let his backpack drop from his shoulders and threw it onto the couch in the corner. I silently thanked god that the rest of my family had gone to Gammy McGuire's house for the weekend. Mom would have been all over this, making things worse as always.
"I'm fine." He answered and then turned towards the couch again. He walked slowly and sat on the edge of it, putting his head in his hands and still watching the rug. "My head is just kind of bugging me. Do you have anything I could take Lizzie?"
I hadn't spoken yet and I didn't plan to. I walked past them and into the kitchen. I filled a small cup with some tap water and grabbed a couple aspirin from the cabinet where mom kept them hidden.
I placed them into Gordo's hand and for the first time, he looked up, whispering thanks as he grabbed for the cup.
He swallowed them without taking a sip and watched the water swirl in the cup. I sat down beside him, my leg against his. His whole body was shaking and I hadn't noticed until now.
"You still cold?" I knew it was a stupid question, as Miranda and I were sweltering in our tank top pajamas. I wasn't sure why I had turned the heat up so high to begin with.
"I'm fine." He said again, but the swelling wetness of his eyes gave away his secret. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tried to pull him closer to me.
"Really, I'm fine. Don't worry do much. It's just a headache." And I was convinced at that moment that he thought we were the two dumbest girls on the face of the earth.
"We're not blind Gordo, what happened to your face?" Miranda asked from where she stood near the door. Gordo reached up and lightly touched his cheek and a few tears fell at that moment. I tightened my grip on him.
"Hun, you can tell us anything, you know that right?" I asked softly. He mumbled a response and sighed.
"He's never done this before. Not to me." His voice was only a little more than a whisper, but we could hear him perfectly.
"Who?" Miranda asked, finally stepping closer. But we knew the answer.
"He's never hit me before. Always just my mother." That confirmed any doubts and I suddenly didn't feel too well.
"So I left, you know? I just left and I would have come straight here but I didn't and I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I shouldn't even be here right now. This has nothing to do with you, you don't need this, you just don't." He was talking a mile a minute, and talking crazy nonetheless. I grabbed his shoulders with both hands.
"Gordo. Relax. Everything's going to be all right. Your ok now."
"I should go." He started to stand. Miranda pushed him back down gently.
"You're not leaving. You're not going back there tonight Gordo."
He was crying now. Something I hadn't seen him do since we were little and I broke his favorite toy soldier he brought in for show and tell. "I have to Miranda. I'm sorry." He stood up again and she stood in his way.
"Sit down Gordo, you're not leaving."
"Bullshit Miranda. Move."
"Lizzie, tell him to sit down."
"I'm not a fucking dog Miranda, now get out of my way!"
I tuned them out when it turned into a mix of screaming and swearing and sobbing. He fell to the floor in a heap, bawling now and pushing us away. I reached for his arm and pulled him back to the couch. He lied there, shaking for a long while, while I rubbed his back. Miranda sat on the floor in her own world, wiping stray tears from her own face.
I don't know when, but somehow all three of us fell asleep. Me and Gordo were on the couch wrapped in a massive tangle of arms and legs, and Miranda was on the floor, just below us.
We woke up cold the next morning and no one wanted to move first. The phone rang 10 and I had to answer it because, as Miranda said, it was my house.
I struggled to get up. "Hello?"
"Is David there?" I took the phone away from my ear and looked a Gordo lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing his eyes.
"Gordo? It's your dad." He sat up quickly and scrambled across the room and took the receiver from me. After a quick conversation he grabbed his untouched bag from where it had landed on the floor at some point during the night. He kissed me on the cheek and hugged Miranda and left quickly.
I took his spot on the couch again and breathed in his scent. Neither one of us moved for a long while, but laid still, thinking and wondering.
A/n: This is my first Lizzie McGuire story. It's been a while since I've written fan fiction, but I figured I'd give it another shot. The continuation of this story depends solely on the feedback I receive. The more positive reviews, the more likely I'll be to update.
The story is based lightly on the song "I'm Ok" by Christina Aguilera. This chapter is pretty light, but future chapters will contain strong themes. I do now own any of the characters of Lizzie McGuire. This is fiction, made up in my sick little mind. I hope you like it. Please let me know.
It was always just us. Just the three of us as an inseparable trio of friendship, fun and girl talk minus Gordo. We would sit in my room for hours and do absolutely nothing productive and yet somehow still manage not to care that we were missing the biggest high school party of the year. We were missing it together and that was all that mattered to us. Miranda would bring her mom's famous homemade butter cookies and my mom would make sure that we shared with Matt. Tonight it was snowing and Miranda and I sat on the end of my bed, picking at the tinfoil wrapping covering the plate of cookies and the phone was in her hand.
"You don't think something could have happened do you?" she asked, pressing numbers on the cordless despite the fact that it wasn't turned on.
"No. He's probably just running a little late." I had to be the reasonable one. Miranda was known for falling apart.
"Yeah.two hours late." She mumbled under her breath, but she knew I could hear.
And I had to admit that she was right. He was usually the early one, waiting for one of us to show up. She tossed the phone onto my lap.
"Call him."
"Why me?"
"Your house." Was her only excuse but I knew she was just scared. Not scared that he wouldn't be home, but more than likely scared that his father would pick up. He wasn't very fond of either of us, but appeared to dislike Miranda a little more than me for some reason. So I dialed the number.
I waited a few seconds. "Um, is David there?"
Miranda laughed a little at the way my voice wavered and I stood from my spot on the pink bedspread and began pacing the floor in a faint attempt to ignore her. I waited for the response on the other end of the line and when none came I cleared my throat a little.
"No. He went out for the night." Who is this?"
"Lizzie, could you just tell him I called?"
"Yeah." And with that he hung up.
I tossed the phone back down on the bed and stared at it for a minute before sitting again. I huffed.
"Not home."
"I figured." She looked uneasy and stood up. "It's cold in here."
"Where could he have gone? He's known for a week that we had plans tonight. I reminded him like, a million times in school today."
"Maybe." It was like something out of a horror movie when the doorbell shrieked through the house. And after jumping a mile, our sighs of relief could be heard for years.
"I'm going to kick his ass." Miranda whispered after opening my bedroom door and bounding down the staircase.
I pushed ahead of her. "Not if I get to him first." I swung the front door open, expecting an immediate apology on the other side. Instead I was met with a teary smile, a barely there hello and downcast eyes.
"Gordo?" It wasn't really a question. I was just having trouble getting my brain to work with my tongue. I think I smiled, but I can't be sure.
"Gordo, what happened?" Miranda sounded angry, but I don't think she was about to kick anyone's ass anymore.
"I.can I come in? It's kind of cold out here."
I opened the door a little more and he scuffed his feet on the welcome mat, brushing snow out of his hair lightly.
"Sorry I'm late." He never lifted his eyes from the floor.
My stomach was doing flips, my hands were shaking and I couldn't tear my gaze away from the bruise on his left cheek.
"What happened?" Miranda questioned again, stepping closer to him this time.
He let his backpack drop from his shoulders and threw it onto the couch in the corner. I silently thanked god that the rest of my family had gone to Gammy McGuire's house for the weekend. Mom would have been all over this, making things worse as always.
"I'm fine." He answered and then turned towards the couch again. He walked slowly and sat on the edge of it, putting his head in his hands and still watching the rug. "My head is just kind of bugging me. Do you have anything I could take Lizzie?"
I hadn't spoken yet and I didn't plan to. I walked past them and into the kitchen. I filled a small cup with some tap water and grabbed a couple aspirin from the cabinet where mom kept them hidden.
I placed them into Gordo's hand and for the first time, he looked up, whispering thanks as he grabbed for the cup.
He swallowed them without taking a sip and watched the water swirl in the cup. I sat down beside him, my leg against his. His whole body was shaking and I hadn't noticed until now.
"You still cold?" I knew it was a stupid question, as Miranda and I were sweltering in our tank top pajamas. I wasn't sure why I had turned the heat up so high to begin with.
"I'm fine." He said again, but the swelling wetness of his eyes gave away his secret. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tried to pull him closer to me.
"Really, I'm fine. Don't worry do much. It's just a headache." And I was convinced at that moment that he thought we were the two dumbest girls on the face of the earth.
"We're not blind Gordo, what happened to your face?" Miranda asked from where she stood near the door. Gordo reached up and lightly touched his cheek and a few tears fell at that moment. I tightened my grip on him.
"Hun, you can tell us anything, you know that right?" I asked softly. He mumbled a response and sighed.
"He's never done this before. Not to me." His voice was only a little more than a whisper, but we could hear him perfectly.
"Who?" Miranda asked, finally stepping closer. But we knew the answer.
"He's never hit me before. Always just my mother." That confirmed any doubts and I suddenly didn't feel too well.
"So I left, you know? I just left and I would have come straight here but I didn't and I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I shouldn't even be here right now. This has nothing to do with you, you don't need this, you just don't." He was talking a mile a minute, and talking crazy nonetheless. I grabbed his shoulders with both hands.
"Gordo. Relax. Everything's going to be all right. Your ok now."
"I should go." He started to stand. Miranda pushed him back down gently.
"You're not leaving. You're not going back there tonight Gordo."
He was crying now. Something I hadn't seen him do since we were little and I broke his favorite toy soldier he brought in for show and tell. "I have to Miranda. I'm sorry." He stood up again and she stood in his way.
"Sit down Gordo, you're not leaving."
"Bullshit Miranda. Move."
"Lizzie, tell him to sit down."
"I'm not a fucking dog Miranda, now get out of my way!"
I tuned them out when it turned into a mix of screaming and swearing and sobbing. He fell to the floor in a heap, bawling now and pushing us away. I reached for his arm and pulled him back to the couch. He lied there, shaking for a long while, while I rubbed his back. Miranda sat on the floor in her own world, wiping stray tears from her own face.
I don't know when, but somehow all three of us fell asleep. Me and Gordo were on the couch wrapped in a massive tangle of arms and legs, and Miranda was on the floor, just below us.
We woke up cold the next morning and no one wanted to move first. The phone rang 10 and I had to answer it because, as Miranda said, it was my house.
I struggled to get up. "Hello?"
"Is David there?" I took the phone away from my ear and looked a Gordo lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing his eyes.
"Gordo? It's your dad." He sat up quickly and scrambled across the room and took the receiver from me. After a quick conversation he grabbed his untouched bag from where it had landed on the floor at some point during the night. He kissed me on the cheek and hugged Miranda and left quickly.
I took his spot on the couch again and breathed in his scent. Neither one of us moved for a long while, but laid still, thinking and wondering.