GORDO

4 days later the notes were still coming. I usually got 3 or 4 a day, but every now and then I'd get 5. It was really starting to bug me. I wished the girl would leave me alone. What was her point in leaving me messages? What was she trying to do?

Finally I decided to write her a note. It had to be perfect, though. I couldn't say anything I was going to regret. I went over a few different drafts during algebra. The first one said:

Call me Gordo. Please. If you don't mind me asking, I'm curious what you see in me. I never pictured myself much of a ladies' man. I'm also curious… do you have a name?

But my letter to her didn't feel right. I played with the words and switched them around, then added and took away stuff and couldn't make it any better. "Call me Gordo." Was that too demanding? Or should I say "You can call me Gordo" or something like that?

After awhile, I decided on my final copy:

If you want you can call me Gordo, that's what my friends call me. If you don't mind me asking, I was wondering what you see in me. I never pictured myself much of a ladies' man. And just one more thing: do you have a name?

The letter still didn't seem right but I couldn't bring myself to change it. I had no idea what to say to this girl. Whatever I did, I wanted her to still think of me the same way after she read this letter. I didn't want her to read it and say "Oh, he's really a jerk. From where I was sitting it looked like he was nice."

Not like that was likely. She'd said she'd watched me. She knew what I was like.

Watched me? Was she spying on me? Sneaking around my back? Maybe she was there when I told Lizzie to help me find her! Maybe she laughed at me. Maybe this was all a trick. Maybe…

Get a grip, Gordo, I scolded myself. She's just a girl. That's it. A g-i-r-l. You see them every day. You talk to two of them regularly. That's all this person is. Just a girl.

The bell rang and I got out of my seat and rushed to the door. I wanted to stick the note in my locker before she got there so that I would get a response next period. Luckily when I got there no note fell out, showing that she hadn't been there yet.

I took the note I'd written and taped it to the locker door as Miranda and Lizzie walked up. "What's that?" Miranda asked.

"A note for… well, her," I answered. "It's short, sweet, and to the point."

"Can we read it?" Lizzie asked.

"You aren't missing much," I replied, exchanging my algebra book for my science one. "All I said was that she could call me Gordo instead of David-" –I made a face, I hate the name David- "-and asked her for her name. And asked her what she sees in me."

"Aw… that's so cute," Lizzie said.

"What is? You guys have been using the words "so cute" a lot recently."

"Because it is," Miranda said. "Our friend Gordo's in love."

I made a face. "In love? I am not. I'm exploring my options as a single teenage guy, beginning with a girl that has a crush on me. But in love? No way."

"Well, she's in love with you, at least," Lizzie said. "I guess you'll just have to break her heart."

"She's not in love with anyone," I replied. "Look, maybe she thinks she's in love with me, but the chances that you're going to find that special someone at this age are about as much as Tudgeman's modeling career. Not good."

Lizzie shook her head. "Fine, then, have it your way. But I still think it's sweet."

"That makes two of us," Miranda put in.

"Now let me see the one you wrote." Lizzie reached in my locker and grabbed the note. I didn't object… I knew she'd get it sooner or later. Every time I got a note from my admirer, I tried to hide it from them. And every time I tried to hide it, they got it and read it anyway. Recently I'd given up trying to resist Miranda and Lizzie's note-reading powers.

"This note is totally unacceptable," she said at last. "She writes notes in proper letter form, and you just scribbled some words on paper. You didn't even sign it. And where's your address?"

"When you're passing notes in school, you don't need an address. Or an envelope. That's the beauty of it."

"Nonono. You didn't address her. She always says "Dear David." You need to do the same."

"What am I gonna say? "Dear secret admirer"? "Dear blank"?"

" "Dear secret admirer" would work just fine," Miranda said. "Go for it." She handed me a pen and Lizzie gave me back the note. I sighed and wrote "Dear secret admirer" at the top and signed my name at the bottom.

"Happy?"

"Yes."

~*~

Dear David,

I hope you don't mind, but I prefer to call people by their given name. I know well that your friends call you Gordo, but if you don't mind I'll like to refer to you as "David."

What do I see in you? I'm sorry, but this is a funny question. You're the most adorable guy I've ever seen, from your dark curly hair to your deep eyes… and I admire your personality, how you don't care what others think of you and are always your own person. I respect you for that. In a world full of fake people, you keep it real.

My locker number is 246. Feel free to leave me another note if you want to.

Love,

Kelsey

"Yes!" I clenched my fist as I tried not to shout. I knew her name and her locker. That'd be enough to find out her last name, which meant I could find a picture. This was good.

Her comment about me being "the most adorable guy" she's ever seen bothered me. A lot. From the minute I read it I thought, Adorable? Is she sure?

First off, I never thought I was good-looking. Maybe not necessarily ugly, but just… normal. But no, she said I was more than that. The most adorable, to be exact. She liked the way I looked, and that alone was amazing to me.

But that wasn't what bothered me. The thing that really gnawed at me was her word choice. If she would have used cute or hot I would have gladly taken the compliment, but adorable? That made me sound like a Teddy Bear. I didn't want to be a Teddy Bear or a little kid's toy made to look "adorable." If anything, I wanted a girl to think I was cute, not "adorable."

Before I knew it I was at Miranda's locker talking to her. "She wrote back," I said excitedly. "Her name's Kelsey."

Miranda smiled and took the note from me to read it. "Aw… she thinks you're cute! That's so sweet!"

"No she doesn't. She thinks I'm "adorable.""

Miranda looked at me. "Same thing."

"No it isn't. Cute would be someone who's good-looking. Adorable is a five-year-old."

"You think she thinks you're a five-year-old?"

"That's how she referred to me."

Miranda shook her head. "Trust me, this is a good thing. 246 is her locker? No problem. Lizzie and I can hang out around there and see if we can find her."

"OK, thanks. But don't talk to her, all right? If we find out who she is, I don't want her to know."

"Why not?"

"Because. I need some time to think about asking her out."

"Why don't you think about it now?"

The question seemed to trap me in a sense. I felt cornered, even though Miranda hadn't purposely tried to. I wanted to see how she looked first. Was that shallow of me? For some odd reason, I couldn't make up my mind until I saw her.

"Because, I…" I paused. "I want to see her first."

"Oh. OK." Miranda turned back to her locker. I think she expected me to go to class, but I felt like I should stay for a little while longer.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked. "Am I being superficial?"

She smiled and turned to face me. "You aren't being superficial, Gordo. You're being a guy. It makes perfect sense to me that you would want to see Kelsey before you ask or don't ask her. Especially since this is you we're talking about. You've never had a girlfriend and this can buy you some time to work up your nerve."

Her last remark caught me a little off-guard. "W-what? You think I'm scared?"

She shrugged. "I would be."