Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, people, places, etc…don't sue me. I do own characters you don't recognize…i.e. Brenna, Carissa, and Ethan's family and Kate's family.
Ok, I'm gonna warn you, I hate this chapter. It's a lot of fluff and I'm awful at writing fluffy stuff, so it's pretty bad.
Christmas and the following days passed quickly for Lizzie. She spent the majority of Christmas Eve and Christmas with her family and the next several days just hanging out with Miranda and Gordo. She couldn't believe it when Miranda mentioned New Year's Eve was tomorrow.
"What do you guys think about the party tomorrow?" Miranda asked.
The three of them had each received an invitation to a New Year's Eve party at the Sanders' house. At first none of them were sure what to think. College life may have forced Kate to mature a bit, but they hardly expected to be invited to a party she was having. When each of their families received invitations as well, they came to the conclusion that Kate's family was throwing the party.
"I'm not sure." Lizzie pulled her invitation from her purse and looked at it again. "It seems safe. It's likely no one will end up head first in a cake." She grimaced, remember Kate's disastrous supposed fourteenth birthday party.
"And no one will spike the punch and cause half the senior class to miss the homecoming dance." Gordo tried not to smile at the memory.
"Well, it's New Year's Eve," Miranda added, "you never know."
"Either way, it could be fun." Lizzie replied. "And if worse come to worse, we can always leave."
"I suppose this means I have to dress up, huh?" Gordo groaned at the thought.
"The invitation says 'semi-formal dress'." Lizzie pointed it out on the invitation and turned to Miranda. "What are you wearing?"
Gordo rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his plate of curly fries.
"I'm not sure." Miranda answered. "What about you?"
"Well," Lizzie paused, "Most of my clothes are still in Denver; I wasn't able to bring too much home. I don't really have any dress clothes with me, aside from what I wore to the funeral. But mom said we'd go shopping and try to find something." Lizzie glanced at her watch. "And I'm late! I gotta run, but I'll see you guys at the party. Bye!" she called, sprinting out of the Gordon's kitchen.
Miranda turned her attention to Gordo, who was munching on his curly fries, deep in thought. "So, Gordo…" she began.
Gordo jerked out of his daze and looked around. "Where's Lizzie?" he asked, looking puzzled.
"She left to go shopping with her mom. We'll see her at the party. And speaking of Lizzie…" Miranda let that hang in the air and snatched a curly fry from Gordo's plate. She popped it in her mouth and made a face, they were cold.
"What?" Gordo asked, looking more bewildered.
"When are you planning on telling her?" Miranda asked.
"Telling her what?" Gordo looked down at his plate, hoping Miranda didn't mean what he thought she meant.
"How you feel about her..." Miranda prompted, starting to get impatient.
"She's my friend!" Gordo insisted, but Miranda shook her head, not believe a word he said.
"How many times a week do you two talk?" she asked.
"A few…" he said vaguely. Miranda glared at him.
"Four." He mumbled. "Or five…or six."
"And how often do you two talk online?" she pressed.
"Fine. I get your point Miranda. We talk a lot. But that doesn't mean anything! We go to different schools more than halfway across the country. I've known her my whole life. So I miss her when I'm away. So we talk. But that doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean that I have feelings for her. It doesn't-"
"But you do." Miranda interrupted him quietly.
"Huh?" He had been so focused on his ranting he entirely missed what she said.
"But you do." She repeated, looking at him expectantly. After a minute she was sure he wasn't going to answer.
"Fine!" he burst out making Miranda jump. "Fine. You got me. I do have feelings for her. But that doesn't change things."
"Why not?" Miranda countered.
"Because she doesn't feel the same way. Because I'm Gordo, the dependable one. The one who knows how to make her feel better when a loser dumps her. The one that will always be there to talk to. And that's all I'll ever be."
"How do you know?" Miranda asked. "How do you know that she hasn't held onto that crush she had on you in fourth grade? Or the one she had on you in middle school?"
"How do you know she-wait, what?" Gordo stopped, taken aback. "She had a crush on me in middle school? Where was I when all this happened?"
"Probably lamenting over the fact that you'll always be 'Gordo, the dependable one'." Miranda's gaze shifted to the phone as it rang. "Listen, I'm going out to dinner with my parents, so I gotta go. But think about it, ok?" She pulled her purse over her shoulder as Gordo grabbed the phone and waved at her.
"This is David Gordon." Miranda heard him say. She stuck her head back in the kitchen and said, "Think about it." She turned towards the front door and missed Gordo's shocked expression as the color drained from his face.