Author's Note: I don't own the characters or the song "Today's the Day" by Aimee Mann. This chapter is from Gordo's POV, the next one will be Lizzie, and the one after that will be Miranda.

better pack your bags and run
or stay until the job is done
maybe you can sit and hope
that providence will fray the rope
and sink like a stone
or go it alone

It's August. I'm sitting on my suitcase at the bus station and all I can see is her face and all I can feel is the guilt of a person who knows what he should be able to give but just can't give that much of himself to her, not anymore, not like this, not the way she wants it to be, not the way it would be if they were together. I want her to understand that when I did what I did that night after the prom I was just trying to look at the big picture, I didn't want a moment, I wanted forever, but it was impossible to see myself with her forever, knowing what I've learned about her over the years.

Don't get me wrong; I love her, as a friend, and I'd like to think I'd always be there for her if she needed my support and that she'd always be there for me in the same situation. But I know how her mind works, and a guy like me is not what she wants, not now, even if she thinks she does, even if she thinks she's seen the light. She wants a guy who can make her feel better about herself and what she believes she deserves. And she doesn't want one who will tell her that's a stupid way of looking at love and she deserves everything and whether or not she has a boyfriend should not factor into that decision.

I once thought I saw something special in her but now all I see is the constant struggle to fit in, to be one of the people who fits in without trying, and it just makes me sad.

and isn't it enough for you?
isn't it enough?

I think it will be forever burned into my memory, the last time I saw Lizzie.

It's the senior prom, and we both have dates, but she finally sees what's always been right in front of her, she sees that he isn't good enough for her, she sees me. We end up alone together, my shoulder damp from her tears, as usual. She looks up and smiles at me beatifically, expectantly, and I can tell just by looking at her that this is her Moment, she's telling me: I'm here, I'm finally ready, I'm finally free. And she wants me to tell her that I've been waiting and that it isn't too late, but I just can't say what I don't feel and I'm tired of this game anyway. So I shuffle my feet and say, "I have to get back, you know, Sarah... um, she's expecting me." Shell-shocked, she nods, and I walk away, back to the dance, back to a date whose name I barely remember, and now I'm the one who's finally free, wondering if that wasn't the biggest mistake I've ever made by leaving her behind or if it was the best thing I could have done.

"Not cool, Gordo," Miranda told me over the phone the next day, and I could hear her shaking her head in disapproval. "I mean, whatever, okay, but guess who had to mop her up off the floor after you left?"

"Well, I'm sorry you had to do that," I said carefully, "but I just did what I needed to do. Just because she finally realized that, hey, here's this guy who's always been around, why didn't I notice him before? doesn't mean I'm going to fall down at her feet saying, oh please, choose me!"

She sighed. "Look, I don't hold it against you, it's not even really my business, I guess, and I see your point, but it's just a bad situation, you know? I've got another call. Three guesses as to who it might be. Later."

I flopped facedown on my bed. She was right. This was the worst possible thing that could have happened. Why couldn't Lizzie have simply been right about the jock du jour, and gone off with him to live happily ever after, making tons of nice little mini-jocks-du-jour and, I guess, finally getting what she always wanted and having it turn out exactly the way she imagined it would be. But no, yet again, this guy had to turn out to be the guy everyone always knew he was; not a bad guy, maybe, but not the guy Lizzie thought he would be underneath all the artifice of popularity. The story always ends the same way. And I had to be standing right there after it blew up in her face, that had to be our Moment, the one I'd been waiting for since freshman year, the one I thought I would welcome when it came along.

I guess I thought I was patient, that I could wait for her to see me, that I would be content to sit on the sidelines waiting to be called into the game, a last-minute replacement. Who could have predicted that when I finally got the call, I wouldn't even want it anymore?

so better pack your bags and run
and send it to oblivion
where you don't look like anyone
that anyone would care about
and do what you do
'til it buries you

I saw her but we didn't talk at graduation. I tried to call her a few times before I left for college, but I guess she felt hurt by my failure to live up to her expectations and frankly I just wasn't up to groveling, she didn't deserve it. So I just left, and that day at the bus station was probably the last time I looked back on our friendship and its unfortunate end with genuine regret. It was easy to disconnect, to pretend that last night was just like any other and she was just somebody I once knew and we were just something that could have happened and didn't.

For two years, I sat alone on campus, a million miles away from that life, and often I just couldn't help feeling like an exile, feeling sorry for myself, blending into the crowd of strangers and disappearing altogether. At least my work benefited from my angst; "happy people make boring movies"--that's like a mantra for all the film students at school. Most of them have to manufacture drama in their personal lives, but I on the other hand have the advantage of having given away what I once believed I wanted most and losing a friendship I would have treasured forever if I could have held on, if this hadn't gone down like it had.

isn't it enough
like Major Reno at the bluff
wondering aloud if help is on the way

So now it's winter break, sophomore year. Two years have passed and I'm heading home for the first time; my parents are finally home from their last European spree, and I'm trying to pretend it doesn't mean as much to me as it does to be welcomed back to town by them, at least, if not my old friends. I get an e-mail from Miranda that says she won't be in town for two more days, but maybe we can hang out while we're both at home.

The call comes on the second night I'm back. It isn't her; it's a guy I barely knew from a couple of classes in high school. He's acting like we were best friends, he's inviting me to a party, and to my surprise I find I'm saying yes, of course I'll come, of course I remember you.

I agreed to go because I couldn't pick up the phone and suck up my pride and pretend I felt guilty about leaving or pretend that I'd had a change of heart and suddenly I was in love again, but I did want to see her, despite everything. I wanted to see how college and time had changed her, if she'd changed at all. But mostly, I wanted her to say she understood why I left her alone that night, and I wanted to make her come back to me.

and isn't this your chance
to make a break with circumstance?
isn't it enough to prove today's the day?