The dream again, only a little different. Gordo isn't at school today. I look everywhere for him. Lizzie is confused.
" He's sick. Why are you so desparate to find him?" I shake my head, and sit nervously through school, tapping my foot
and not really paying attention at all. Finally, when school lets out, I say a quick goodbye to Lizzie and run to
Gordo's house. Run. By the time I reach his door, I am breathing hard and I have almost dropped his homework.
I ring the doorbell, and, again, wait impatiently for the door to be answered. Finally, Mrs. Gordon pulls open the
door.
"Oh, hey, Miranda, are you looking for Gordo?" OF COURSE I'M LOOKING FOR GORDO. Yeesh.
" Yep." Mrs. Gordon smiles kind of nervously.
" He's upstairs, but I don't think he's quite up to visitors. He seems pretty sick." My heart flaps in my chest.
"Thanks." I run past her and run upstairs, skipping steps. I pound on his bedroom door, and wait for about five
minutes. He doesn't answer, so I knock again, and I hear a faint reply.
" Come in . . . " I push open the door to see Gordo lying in bed, his face pale and feverish. He slowly pulls himself
into a sitting position, smiling faintly, when he sees me. " Hey." I smile.
" Hi. How are you feeling?" He shrugs.
" Not great. I had the dream again. How about you?" His voice is faint, and worry for him builds up inside of me.
I put a hand on his shoulder, frowning.
" Yeah, I did, only it was a little different. What's wrong with you?" He ignores my last question.
" What was different?" It's my turn to ignore his question.
" What's wrong with you, Gordo?" He shakes his head.
" Flu or something. I'm not quite sure, but I didn't feel sick until I woke up this morning. It's really weird,
Miranda, like . . . so sudden, you know?" I know exactly, but I don't say anything except to reassure him.
" Gordo, I'm sure you just caught the flu. I mean, you're fine! Here . . . look, I brought your homework so you're not
behind when you get back to school tomorrow." I pull out his books. When he doesn't answer, I stare into space, or,
rather, at his book cover. It's covered in little doodles of comic book heroes and cartoons. I look up, and he's
watching me. His hair is damp from sweat, brushed aside off his face, and he's smiling. I blush, and hand it to him.
" Um, here's your math, and here's your social studies. You really didn't miss much, I mean, a quiz in science, Mr.
Pettus said that he'd give it to you tomorrow, and he'll still give you full credit, okay? And, um, here's--" He puts
a hand over mine, and I look up at him.
" I'm not going to school tomorrow." I frown at him.
" What are you talking about? Of course you're going to school tomorrow. You have to, you're fine . . . " He just
shakes his head, and looks down at his covers. "Gordo--" I try again, but he shakes his head and won't look at me.
" Um, I think I'm going to try and get some rest. If--when--I don't show up at school tomorrow, will you get my
assignments again? I really appreciate it, and--" I cut him off as I stand up.
" Sure, yeah, no problem." He still doesn't look up. He is paler than I have ever seen him. His lips are almost blue,
and I can see the sweat beaded on his forehead. Finally, I leave.
What have I done? I know that it's my fault he's sick. I shouldn't have told him my dream. This happens to everyone!
And I know why my dream was different. As I stand outside Gordo's house, I am filled with sadness. What if he
continues along the same road as everyone else I've told my dreams to? I pray and pray that he's different as I walk
home.
" He's sick. Why are you so desparate to find him?" I shake my head, and sit nervously through school, tapping my foot
and not really paying attention at all. Finally, when school lets out, I say a quick goodbye to Lizzie and run to
Gordo's house. Run. By the time I reach his door, I am breathing hard and I have almost dropped his homework.
I ring the doorbell, and, again, wait impatiently for the door to be answered. Finally, Mrs. Gordon pulls open the
door.
"Oh, hey, Miranda, are you looking for Gordo?" OF COURSE I'M LOOKING FOR GORDO. Yeesh.
" Yep." Mrs. Gordon smiles kind of nervously.
" He's upstairs, but I don't think he's quite up to visitors. He seems pretty sick." My heart flaps in my chest.
"Thanks." I run past her and run upstairs, skipping steps. I pound on his bedroom door, and wait for about five
minutes. He doesn't answer, so I knock again, and I hear a faint reply.
" Come in . . . " I push open the door to see Gordo lying in bed, his face pale and feverish. He slowly pulls himself
into a sitting position, smiling faintly, when he sees me. " Hey." I smile.
" Hi. How are you feeling?" He shrugs.
" Not great. I had the dream again. How about you?" His voice is faint, and worry for him builds up inside of me.
I put a hand on his shoulder, frowning.
" Yeah, I did, only it was a little different. What's wrong with you?" He ignores my last question.
" What was different?" It's my turn to ignore his question.
" What's wrong with you, Gordo?" He shakes his head.
" Flu or something. I'm not quite sure, but I didn't feel sick until I woke up this morning. It's really weird,
Miranda, like . . . so sudden, you know?" I know exactly, but I don't say anything except to reassure him.
" Gordo, I'm sure you just caught the flu. I mean, you're fine! Here . . . look, I brought your homework so you're not
behind when you get back to school tomorrow." I pull out his books. When he doesn't answer, I stare into space, or,
rather, at his book cover. It's covered in little doodles of comic book heroes and cartoons. I look up, and he's
watching me. His hair is damp from sweat, brushed aside off his face, and he's smiling. I blush, and hand it to him.
" Um, here's your math, and here's your social studies. You really didn't miss much, I mean, a quiz in science, Mr.
Pettus said that he'd give it to you tomorrow, and he'll still give you full credit, okay? And, um, here's--" He puts
a hand over mine, and I look up at him.
" I'm not going to school tomorrow." I frown at him.
" What are you talking about? Of course you're going to school tomorrow. You have to, you're fine . . . " He just
shakes his head, and looks down at his covers. "Gordo--" I try again, but he shakes his head and won't look at me.
" Um, I think I'm going to try and get some rest. If--when--I don't show up at school tomorrow, will you get my
assignments again? I really appreciate it, and--" I cut him off as I stand up.
" Sure, yeah, no problem." He still doesn't look up. He is paler than I have ever seen him. His lips are almost blue,
and I can see the sweat beaded on his forehead. Finally, I leave.
What have I done? I know that it's my fault he's sick. I shouldn't have told him my dream. This happens to everyone!
And I know why my dream was different. As I stand outside Gordo's house, I am filled with sadness. What if he
continues along the same road as everyone else I've told my dreams to? I pray and pray that he's different as I walk
home.