Miranda must have ran home because Gordo's phone rang ten minutes
later, interrupting another kiss, as we tried to make up for lost time. He
reached over and grabbed the phone, answering a little breathlessly. He
handed me the phone and said he was going to the bathroom. When the door
closed I shrieked into the mouthpiece.
"This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me." I whispered. I settled back against a headrest of pillows and crossed my ankles.
"What is?" Miranda asked, sounding excited now.
"This! Me and Gordo." As if she didn't know.
"YOU and GORDO? But when? How?" I could hear her mother speaking in Spanish in the background, but I didn't think she was talking to Miranda.
"You told me to get the hell out of your hair, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but"
"Well.I'm officially out." I couldn't hold back a smile. She was right, I have been thinking about this since I was old enough to know what a crush is. But I knew it, and Miranda knew it. This was no crush. This was no Ethan-Craft-just-because-he-has-good-hair type of love. This was more of a Gordo-is-everything-I-could-ever-ask-for-in-a-friend-but-I-want- him-as-more type of love.
"Sigh." I spoke the word into the phone and she giggled on the other end.
"So.how's the lip lock?"
"You are so childish Miranda. Is that all you think about?" I was being sarcastic of course, but I never needed to hint at it.
"Yeah.now spill." I heard her bed squeak and I assumed she was getting comfortable for all of the juicy details.
"It wasn't bad."
"Lizzie." she warned.
"Alright, it was amazing, everything I've ever dreamed it would be and more." Could I even put it into words?
"That's more like it."
I pulled the receiver away from my ear when I heard a crash downstairs. I could still hear Miranda talking. There was another noise followed by low voices.
"Randy I have to go. I'll call you when I get home." I hung up and walked slowly to the door. I opened it, trying to cover up the creaking noises it made, and tiptoed down the carpeted hallway. I looked towards the bathroom, decorated in light blues with an ocean theme. The door was open; light was off, no one inside. I positioned myself at the top of the stairs and crouched down. I could still hear voices but I couldn't see anyone from where I stood.
I had to take a deep breath to keep from shaking. I heard another cracking sound, louder this time, which I assumed was only because I was closer now. I heard a whimpering of 'please' and I knew it was Gordo. I felt sick upon realization and couldn't think of a thing to do but bolt down the stairs and help him. But I wouldn't have known how. So I stayed still, barely breathing even and listened.
It was still only noon, but the whole house took on a dark and dreary light. It had to be my imagination. I could only hear my heart beating now. Nothing else until a choking, sobbing sound made it's way to my senses. I stumbled down the stairs and into the living room, almost throwing up last night's pizza when I turned the corner.
Mr. Gordon stood over my best friend's quivering figure, muttering something about 'not allowed to have a girlfriend.' His eyes were so full of rage and it was all my fault. I could have killed myself at that moment if I didn't have my heart set on helping Gordo. My voice found me somehow and I screamed for him to stop as he kicked Gordo in the side, again and again.
Gordo looked up and motioned for me to leave, before closing his eyes again. His father glared at me and told me this was 'family business' and asked if I would please see myself out. He then bent down and helped Gordo sit up on the floor. He hugged his son and asked him if he was okay after "falling down so clumsily." Gordo shook his head and Mr. Gordo pulled out a pack of Marlboro's, lighting one and pacing the room.
I was frozen in place, tears trickling down my cheeks every now and then and I was thankful when Mr. Gordon walked out of the room, talking to himself and rubbing his head. I ran to Gordo and threw myself down beside him. I reached for his hand but he pulled it away quickly, moaning as he turned away.
"Are you ok?" I whispered. He turned his head further from me, trying to hide his tears, while mine flowed freely now. He didn't answer.
"Gordo, answer me." I choked out, not sound nearly dramatic enough for the situation. He still wouldn't talk.
"Please."
"You have to leave now Lizzie. I'll call you later tonight." His voice sounded dry and cold.
"Ok." Was all I could muster at the moment. I stood up and held myself back from hugging him and telling him it would be alright. I closed the door softly behind me and hated myself for leaving him in that house, with those people who I'd known my entire life but suddenly couldn't trust for a minute. I hated myself, and I hated them but I didn't know what else I could do.
I walked home, taking the longer paths and crying the whole way. He never called that night.
"This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me." I whispered. I settled back against a headrest of pillows and crossed my ankles.
"What is?" Miranda asked, sounding excited now.
"This! Me and Gordo." As if she didn't know.
"YOU and GORDO? But when? How?" I could hear her mother speaking in Spanish in the background, but I didn't think she was talking to Miranda.
"You told me to get the hell out of your hair, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but"
"Well.I'm officially out." I couldn't hold back a smile. She was right, I have been thinking about this since I was old enough to know what a crush is. But I knew it, and Miranda knew it. This was no crush. This was no Ethan-Craft-just-because-he-has-good-hair type of love. This was more of a Gordo-is-everything-I-could-ever-ask-for-in-a-friend-but-I-want- him-as-more type of love.
"Sigh." I spoke the word into the phone and she giggled on the other end.
"So.how's the lip lock?"
"You are so childish Miranda. Is that all you think about?" I was being sarcastic of course, but I never needed to hint at it.
"Yeah.now spill." I heard her bed squeak and I assumed she was getting comfortable for all of the juicy details.
"It wasn't bad."
"Lizzie." she warned.
"Alright, it was amazing, everything I've ever dreamed it would be and more." Could I even put it into words?
"That's more like it."
I pulled the receiver away from my ear when I heard a crash downstairs. I could still hear Miranda talking. There was another noise followed by low voices.
"Randy I have to go. I'll call you when I get home." I hung up and walked slowly to the door. I opened it, trying to cover up the creaking noises it made, and tiptoed down the carpeted hallway. I looked towards the bathroom, decorated in light blues with an ocean theme. The door was open; light was off, no one inside. I positioned myself at the top of the stairs and crouched down. I could still hear voices but I couldn't see anyone from where I stood.
I had to take a deep breath to keep from shaking. I heard another cracking sound, louder this time, which I assumed was only because I was closer now. I heard a whimpering of 'please' and I knew it was Gordo. I felt sick upon realization and couldn't think of a thing to do but bolt down the stairs and help him. But I wouldn't have known how. So I stayed still, barely breathing even and listened.
It was still only noon, but the whole house took on a dark and dreary light. It had to be my imagination. I could only hear my heart beating now. Nothing else until a choking, sobbing sound made it's way to my senses. I stumbled down the stairs and into the living room, almost throwing up last night's pizza when I turned the corner.
Mr. Gordon stood over my best friend's quivering figure, muttering something about 'not allowed to have a girlfriend.' His eyes were so full of rage and it was all my fault. I could have killed myself at that moment if I didn't have my heart set on helping Gordo. My voice found me somehow and I screamed for him to stop as he kicked Gordo in the side, again and again.
Gordo looked up and motioned for me to leave, before closing his eyes again. His father glared at me and told me this was 'family business' and asked if I would please see myself out. He then bent down and helped Gordo sit up on the floor. He hugged his son and asked him if he was okay after "falling down so clumsily." Gordo shook his head and Mr. Gordo pulled out a pack of Marlboro's, lighting one and pacing the room.
I was frozen in place, tears trickling down my cheeks every now and then and I was thankful when Mr. Gordon walked out of the room, talking to himself and rubbing his head. I ran to Gordo and threw myself down beside him. I reached for his hand but he pulled it away quickly, moaning as he turned away.
"Are you ok?" I whispered. He turned his head further from me, trying to hide his tears, while mine flowed freely now. He didn't answer.
"Gordo, answer me." I choked out, not sound nearly dramatic enough for the situation. He still wouldn't talk.
"Please."
"You have to leave now Lizzie. I'll call you later tonight." His voice sounded dry and cold.
"Ok." Was all I could muster at the moment. I stood up and held myself back from hugging him and telling him it would be alright. I closed the door softly behind me and hated myself for leaving him in that house, with those people who I'd known my entire life but suddenly couldn't trust for a minute. I hated myself, and I hated them but I didn't know what else I could do.
I walked home, taking the longer paths and crying the whole way. He never called that night.