Explorations of what Lizzie's inner monologue might have been during the events of the season 1 episode "Gordo and the Girl".
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these Disney characters, and yada yada. You know the drill.
2:07 A.M.
Lizzie stared at her alarm clock as she laid in bed, idly fidgeting with a hair scrunchy. She and Miranda had stayed up pretty late that night watching the scary movie marathon, and Miranda ended up sleeping over. She looked down at her best friend, who was sound asleep snoring softly in her sleeping bag. She then looked back at the alarm clock: 2:07. Judging by the time, she should have been fast asleep too. But she was having a heck of a time falling asleep with her mind racing like it was. And the crazy thing was, it had nothing to do with the back-to-back horror flicks they had just watched.
This just can't be real, she thought to herself. She'd been lying there awake for the last hour and a half trying to figure out how all of this could have happened right under her nose. And so far, the only explanations she could come up with was that it was either a bad dream or it was all some sort of weird, alternate universe conspiracy that everyone was in on except for her and Miranda.
Gordo… and Brooke Baker?
Brooke Baker… and Gordo?
Gordo and Brooke Baker… kissing?!
Her stomach was twisting itself into a knot just thinking about it. She felt like such a voyeur having seen them kissing at the Digital Bean earlier that evening when she obviously wasn't supposed to and now she couldn't get the image out of her head. Gordo's hand intertwined with Brooke's, him leaning in ever closer to her, their eyes closing in anticipation, and then…
No! She didn't want to visualize it again. Miranda had all but lost her lunch at the sight of it and then wouldn't shut up about how gross it was witnessing Gordo's lip-lock on their walk back to Lizzie's house. Lizzie, on the other hand, had been unusually quiet. She wasn't quite as certain as Miranda that she was feeling grossed out by the idea of Gordo kissing someone. It felt more like she had been zapped by an invisible stun gun, or like a rug had been swiftly yanked out from beneath her feet. It had just caught her completely off guard.
And it just did not compute. So now at 2:07 in the morning, there were so many questions racing through her brain that urgently needed answers. Like when did Gordo start dating Brooke Baker? When did he start liking Brooke Baker? When had he ever even spoken to Brooke Baker? Who initiated it? What does he see in her anyway? And why hadn't he mentioned any of this to his alleged best friends?!
But unfortunately for Lizzie, the one person who could answer all of these burning late-night questions was probably busy dreaming about Brooke Baker.
Lizzie sighed, tossing the scrunchy onto her nightstand and rolling onto her back. Staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her bedroom ceiling, she resolved to stop thinking about this for the night and finally try to get some sleep. But as she settled in under the covers, she had a feeling deep down that she would be in for a long and restless night.