Chapter 2: When None of the Pieces Fit
The next day was the fourth one into the summer vacation before our sophomore year. I was in the food court of the mall with Miranda and Lizzie, discussing Ethan Craft's hair over milkshakes.
"Well, I thought it looked better longer. It evened out his chin and lips that way," I explained, sitting "Indian style" on my lightly cushioned food court chair.
"Ew! No way. It looks so great shorter. Besides, it doesn't keep conversation from getting into his ears - and, eventually, his brain - this way," Miranda argued.
"I guess I just don't see why everyone is so in love with him .. I mean, if we're just talking hair, he should keep it longer, but in all honesty, why care about his hair? Even if it's good hair - which I personally don't care about - he's an idiot! Besides, shouldn't this whole Ethan obsession have ended like, a year ago?" I exclaimed.
"It would have, except that was around when YOU had that little crush on him, so it started up the cycle again!" Miranda teased, laughing mockingly. Lizzie kept silent. What was going on with her? Miranda obviously noticed it too; instead of rolling her eyes at me, she used them to stare questioningly at Lizzie, who was busy stirring her chocolate shake with the straw. Lizzie looked up.
"What?" She asked, snapping out of her daydream.
"Well, Gordo just implied that we were stupid for caring about Ethan's hair and you didn't even defend us .." Miranda trailed off.
Lizzie shrugged. "I didn't feel like it. I don't really care about his hair that much, either," she responded, resting her arms on the table and her head on her arms. I gave her my best "What?!" face, but she didn't catch it. Miranda used a less subtle approach, throwing her arms in the air and practically falling out of her chair.
"Nothing makes sense anymore!" she cried. I couldn't tell how serious Miranda was being, but Lizzie just gave one of those long, deep sighs I was getting accustomed to hearing from her. Guess it didn't bother her too much.
"It's been a long day. I think I'll go home," Lizzie remarked.
I must have thought too soon; she was bothered. For the sake of my sanity, I agreed to leaving and secretly decided to call Lizzie as soon as I got home for some one-on-one soul diving. All signs pointed towards "SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH THE LIZZIE MACHINE," and they were neon and blinking and even beeping at me.
"Hey. It's me." I said into the receiver, flopping backwards onto my bed. The fact that I had a phone in my room still made little sense to me. Telephones almost scared me. In times like this, though, my room was a safe haven from the psychologists outside: professionals vs. Lucy from Peanuts, parents vs. child. For tonight's session, I had brought in the big guns - lots of food. It would inevitably be a long night.
"Hi Gordo," Lizzie replied. She was probably eating Oreos and sorting through her clothes that didn't fit anymore. Just an educated guess.
"So. Let's get straight to the point. What's wrong?"
"Ew, these Oreos are melted!" She exclaimed. (So I was right!)
Despite my amazement by my psychic abilities, I groaned. "Seriously! Wondering and worrying about you is not something I like to fill my time with!"
"Gordo! Why are you worrying? Just because I'm not talking as much as usual? Please, save the worrying for when you see me mysteriously without a left knee!"
"I think you're keeping something from me."
"Really, Gordo, I have both my knees."
"Ha ha, you're not great at stealthily avoiding the subject."
"What do you want me to say? I'm suicidal?"
"Are you?!" I began to panic. ENTER PANIC MODE.
"Of course not! I'm fine. just a little, well, out of sorts." She sensed the panic mode and quickly turned it down a notch.
"Oooookay.. well.. how so?"
"Precious Gordo, always there.." - Lizzie's voice changed a little bit.. she was beginning to sound apathetic. Or maybe just dreamy, I couldn't tell - "I just need to try something new on for size."
I wasn't following. "What, like, new pants?"
"You know, for a smart guy, you.." she started. "Nevermind. I'm just TIRED, Gordo. I'm TIRED of it all, so I'm changing it." This statement wasn't really an exclamation, which definitely surprised me (coming from Lizzie). Nevertheless, I knew what I had to do.. give her the "stay the same" speech.
"But I like you the way you are, Lizzie. You're perfect being Lizzie."
"GOD, Gordo! Please stop and listen to what I'm saying!" She was defiant, sure of herself, and definitely getting worked up. "All I need is for you to be with me! I don't feel comfortable being me. You've already got this whole puzzle figured out, so please, PLEASE, just give me a chance to put it together!" Whoa, talk about surprises. I could feel cosmic laser beams shooting out of her eyes. I could feel her heart beat race. I could feel it slowing down. I could feel her taking a deep breath, then letting it out.
"Okay." That was it. It was all I could say.
"Goodnight."
"'Night." I hung up the phone and heaved a deep sigh.
Everything's okay?
The next day was the fourth one into the summer vacation before our sophomore year. I was in the food court of the mall with Miranda and Lizzie, discussing Ethan Craft's hair over milkshakes.
"Well, I thought it looked better longer. It evened out his chin and lips that way," I explained, sitting "Indian style" on my lightly cushioned food court chair.
"Ew! No way. It looks so great shorter. Besides, it doesn't keep conversation from getting into his ears - and, eventually, his brain - this way," Miranda argued.
"I guess I just don't see why everyone is so in love with him .. I mean, if we're just talking hair, he should keep it longer, but in all honesty, why care about his hair? Even if it's good hair - which I personally don't care about - he's an idiot! Besides, shouldn't this whole Ethan obsession have ended like, a year ago?" I exclaimed.
"It would have, except that was around when YOU had that little crush on him, so it started up the cycle again!" Miranda teased, laughing mockingly. Lizzie kept silent. What was going on with her? Miranda obviously noticed it too; instead of rolling her eyes at me, she used them to stare questioningly at Lizzie, who was busy stirring her chocolate shake with the straw. Lizzie looked up.
"What?" She asked, snapping out of her daydream.
"Well, Gordo just implied that we were stupid for caring about Ethan's hair and you didn't even defend us .." Miranda trailed off.
Lizzie shrugged. "I didn't feel like it. I don't really care about his hair that much, either," she responded, resting her arms on the table and her head on her arms. I gave her my best "What?!" face, but she didn't catch it. Miranda used a less subtle approach, throwing her arms in the air and practically falling out of her chair.
"Nothing makes sense anymore!" she cried. I couldn't tell how serious Miranda was being, but Lizzie just gave one of those long, deep sighs I was getting accustomed to hearing from her. Guess it didn't bother her too much.
"It's been a long day. I think I'll go home," Lizzie remarked.
I must have thought too soon; she was bothered. For the sake of my sanity, I agreed to leaving and secretly decided to call Lizzie as soon as I got home for some one-on-one soul diving. All signs pointed towards "SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH THE LIZZIE MACHINE," and they were neon and blinking and even beeping at me.
"Hey. It's me." I said into the receiver, flopping backwards onto my bed. The fact that I had a phone in my room still made little sense to me. Telephones almost scared me. In times like this, though, my room was a safe haven from the psychologists outside: professionals vs. Lucy from Peanuts, parents vs. child. For tonight's session, I had brought in the big guns - lots of food. It would inevitably be a long night.
"Hi Gordo," Lizzie replied. She was probably eating Oreos and sorting through her clothes that didn't fit anymore. Just an educated guess.
"So. Let's get straight to the point. What's wrong?"
"Ew, these Oreos are melted!" She exclaimed. (So I was right!)
Despite my amazement by my psychic abilities, I groaned. "Seriously! Wondering and worrying about you is not something I like to fill my time with!"
"Gordo! Why are you worrying? Just because I'm not talking as much as usual? Please, save the worrying for when you see me mysteriously without a left knee!"
"I think you're keeping something from me."
"Really, Gordo, I have both my knees."
"Ha ha, you're not great at stealthily avoiding the subject."
"What do you want me to say? I'm suicidal?"
"Are you?!" I began to panic. ENTER PANIC MODE.
"Of course not! I'm fine. just a little, well, out of sorts." She sensed the panic mode and quickly turned it down a notch.
"Oooookay.. well.. how so?"
"Precious Gordo, always there.." - Lizzie's voice changed a little bit.. she was beginning to sound apathetic. Or maybe just dreamy, I couldn't tell - "I just need to try something new on for size."
I wasn't following. "What, like, new pants?"
"You know, for a smart guy, you.." she started. "Nevermind. I'm just TIRED, Gordo. I'm TIRED of it all, so I'm changing it." This statement wasn't really an exclamation, which definitely surprised me (coming from Lizzie). Nevertheless, I knew what I had to do.. give her the "stay the same" speech.
"But I like you the way you are, Lizzie. You're perfect being Lizzie."
"GOD, Gordo! Please stop and listen to what I'm saying!" She was defiant, sure of herself, and definitely getting worked up. "All I need is for you to be with me! I don't feel comfortable being me. You've already got this whole puzzle figured out, so please, PLEASE, just give me a chance to put it together!" Whoa, talk about surprises. I could feel cosmic laser beams shooting out of her eyes. I could feel her heart beat race. I could feel it slowing down. I could feel her taking a deep breath, then letting it out.
"Okay." That was it. It was all I could say.
"Goodnight."
"'Night." I hung up the phone and heaved a deep sigh.
Everything's okay?