[Disclaimer: I don't own the show Lizzie McGuire. I don't own the episode . I don't own Gordo (but I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish I did). What do I own? Gordo's thoughts, any events you don't recognize from the episode, and the nifty rainbow bracelet around my wrist that I've had since I was like, 5. Anyways, onto the story!]
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Even though my encounter with Kate was rather unsettling, I tried my best to carry on. But now there were a few things I wasn't sure about.
If I won this thing, I would be proving Kate right, and that's not a smart move. I could hear her annoying, gloating voice already. But if I won, I could impress Lizzie...and maybe ask her out. Maybe. The only reason Kate would gloat about it is if I chickened out of it. Kate knowing that I like Lizzie wouldn't be very valuable information...if I tell Lizzie first.
But even if I don't win this, she'll probably still tell everyone at school about it. She was like that. The words and are not in her vocabulary. Is losing the whole game just to avoid some ridicule on Monday really worth it, when it came to matters of Lizzie?
To win or not to win. That is the question.
Look at me. I'm deciding whether or not I want to win before I even know if I can win.
I was overthinking things. I needed to finally get down to business and just do this.
But first, I needed to know if upstairs was off-limits.
So I got up out of my chair and trudged up the staircase. I felt restless. I can figure this out',' I kept telling myself. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...'
I pushed open the door and peered into Matt's room. Hm, no one's there. So I tiptoed my way over to Lizzie's room and knocked on the door.
a familiar voice came bellowing out to me.
I said, opening the door, what are you doing in Lizzie's room?
When I finally got a good look at Matt, I saw him hurriedly burrowing through each of Lizzie's bureau drawers, one by one, in search of something obviously important.
I repeated. He didn't even flinch.
Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing and turned around very slowly. (For dramatic effect, of course. I wouldn't expect any less. After all, this is Matt McGuire we're talking about.) Then, hands on hips, he walked towards me, squinting his eyes and glaring at me.
You just called me...Matthew, he said, in disgust by his own full name.
And you're in Lizzie's room. I smiled deviously. After a second or two, his eyes began to open.
You're a clever one, Gordon, he said as she shook his finger at me.
You know it. I looked down at the empty drawer and the various clothes sprawled out across Lizzie's bedroom floor. So what exactly are you doing in here?
I'm not at liberty to discuss my presence here tonight, he whispered. Returning to his normal tone of voice, he asked, loudly, And why are YOU so worried? Perhaps the final clue is hidden in this room, leading me to the murderer of Lord McGuffin....also known as AUBREY CARSTAIRS!
That's really what you think? I laughed. Well, all's fair in love, war, and murder mystery parties.
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I walked down the steps halfway and sat. Burying my head in my hands, I knew it was hopeless. Someone else was going to win this, and I'd just have to deal with that. One of the most important lessons in life is learning when to let go, when to just say, I've had enough. I couldn't expect everything to go my way tonight. That was just being unrealistic. I just had to let go, and lose gracefully.
But as if a light bulb clicked off in my head, an idea came to me, and gave me the assurance that even if I didn't win tonight, I'd still get Lizzie to notice me. And it was when this light bulb went off in my mind that I even began to believe that maybe tonight would be the night. I'd thought about it, but this party had seemed so far off. And here I am, now, and by the time this night is over, my life could either be perfect....or ruined beyond repair.
I peered through the little pilasters of the railing. There was Larry and Veruca...staring intently at each other. Did I miss something in my trance of determination during this whole party? Are they together now? Why can Tudgeman get a girl, and I can't? Wow, I really am a wimp.
Oh, perfect. Lizzie's chatting away with Ethan. Probably devising some plan that'll never work. I shouldn't be thinking such hostile thoughts about my best friend, but this wasn't just a murder mystery party. It was all-out war.
Now all we have to do is get your father's wine glass to see what did him in, I heard Lizzie say. The wine glass was probably the final clue and could be the solution to the mystery. Somehow, someway, I had to steal that glass from her. But what could I do? Just go over there and steal it?
Ah, splendid. Just the thing. I'll just give this little beauty the once-over, and make some headway, what? And that's just what I did---squatted down and stolen the glass before she could ever lay her dainty little fingers on it.
Lizzie whispered loudly.
I asked, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that I had blatantly stolen a clue from her and that she was angry.
Well, why are you taking all of my clues? she said, impatiently.
Because I want to figure out this murder mystery because I want to impress you because I want you to like me because I'm in love with you, Lizzie McGuire! ...At least, that's what I should've said.
You're the one that wants to solve the mystery and you want Ethan to notice you. I don't think you can do both. Basically, Lizzie and I were in the same predicament. What made me think that Lizzie couldn't do both, but I could? I'm such a hypocrite sometimes.
Well, you know what? she said, in a huff. I don't think that you can play this game without being a total dirk about it. Oh, now I'm the one being a dirk? She's the one who's being a total overachiever here....making Ethan like her and solving the mystery.
Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite.
Too bad, I said, harshly as we both stood up. Back to my English accent, I said, Still, I shouldn't think that dirk' is in the vocabulary of young Penelope. You might want to brush up on that. I was being a dirk, a cynic---an all-around jerk, really. I could've redeemed myself that second. Instead, I stole the glass from her. Thanks for the glass, I grumbled, and ran off up the stairs.
she called after me.
I was getting way ahead of myself here. But I had no chance to think before being dragged across the living room floor by Lizzie, all the way onto the back porch.
Spot of fresh air, eh? I said, again feigning forgetfulness and just acting jolly. I suppose that's all very well, but it does keep one from tip-top sleuthing, what?
she said, contemptuously, what is going on in there, I mean...
What interrupted us was Matt, approaching us slowly with something behind his back.
Madam, allow me to inquire as whether you recognize... He pulled out a pair of shiny, light blue pajama pants from behind his back. THIS item of clothing?
Matt! Those are my pajama bottoms! Lizzie screeched. I just laughed, knowing now why he was searching her drawers earlier.
he said, accusingly. Which is why I've taken the liberty of showing these to everyone this evening! Crazy kid.
Matt, if you don't go put those in my room right now, I'm gonna give you a wedgie that is so bad, you're going to have to unzip your pants to see! When Lizzie's mad, she's mad. Even I felt a little frightened standing there watch her threaten her little brother.
Very well, Matt said, passively. I bid you good day, madam.
You are so weird, Lizzie mumbled under her breath.
I said, GOOD DAY, madam! he yelled, before exiting the way he came in.
So our little encounter with Matt proved to be a humorous experience...if only I could say the same for what happened next.
Okay, Gordo, what is going on here? Ask a stupid question, you're gonna get a stupid answer.
Well, as I understand, I began, sarcastically, wealthy Lord McGuffin was murdered by one of the guests at his son's wedding.
Gordo, I mean, what's going on with you? It's like you're obsessed with winning. I thought you didn't care anything about this. People always assumed I didn't care. Even Lizzie usually thought I didn't care about most things. Why is it so hard to believe that I'm capable of caring?
Well, I decided I wanted to win, I stated firmly. That shouldn't worry you. With your Nancy Drew training' and whatnot.
Okay, you don't have to worry about me because I am going to win this thing and Ethan is going to be impressed with me and this is going to be the best murder mystery party ever. I rolled my eyes.
And may the best man win, I growled indignantly.
Have at it, she huffed.
Have at it, I repeated.
We sprinted inside the house. Now the pressure was really on. Now this was more like a competition than a social event. For Lizzie and me, at the least. I searched every square inch of the McGuire household twice. On my third way around, I passed by an upstairs bookcase. A slip of paper was wedged in between two books. I grabbed it out of its confinement and examined it.
I was smiling uncontrollably after that. I'd found the last clue...I knew who had done it now. Now Lizzie could be impressed with me, and everything could go my way. I'd finally done it. Wow.....wow. It was hard to keep myself from yelling out loud, I FOUND IT!
But then another thought crossed my mind. Would Lizzie even be impressed with me now? She'd probably hate me, not only for making her lose but for precluding her from impressing the almighty Ethan. But if I let her win, she wouldn't know that I did. In fact, she'd most likely brag about it for weeks on end afterwards.
I debated with myself for at least 10 minutes, only coming to realize that I just had to use my best judgment in this. And I knew that I had, as I placed the paper back onto the bookcase shelf.
For Lizzie to find.
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[A/N: This was almost 2,000 words. That's insane! I've never written a chapter this long. I guess I just got really into it. I love Gordo. Don't you?
Well, next chapter's the last one. It's gonna be a doozy, lemme tell you now. I don't even want to determine a date by which it'll be up, because I want it to be *just* right...aka, for once, I will actually go back, revise, change things...et cetera. That's not something I do regularly.
I only had 400 words when I started writing this about an hour or two ago. That's bloody insane!
Well, as usual, lemme know what you think: please review. Thanks!]
