A/N: this takes place 2 months later in early August. Summer vacation's almost gone, and all Lizzie's done is lay in her bed. Poor girl! Anyway, she just got out of the hospital.
LIZZIE
I went into my room and called Gordo right away. It felt so good to walk again. I'd been lying down for 2 ½ months now, and finally I could walk. I quickly dialed his number. Briefly I wondered if I should call Miranda, too, but then remembered that I couldn't.
"Hello?"
"Gordo?" I asked.
"Hey, Lizzie. Are you still in the hospital?"
"No, I just got out."
"That's good. I'm sorry you had to miss the funeral."
I'd wanted to get in a wheelchair or something so I could go to Miranda's funeral last month, but they wouldn't let me. They said I needed to sleep 24/7. And they obviously couldn't put it off for me because it had to be soon after she died so the body wouldn't smell or decay.
"That's OK. Were you a pallbearer?"
"Yeah."
"How was it?"
"Fine."
For the first time in over 5 years, we didn't seem to have anything to say to each other. It was strange… this was Gordo, after all. Gordo! I could carry on a conversation with him for 3 hours if someone didn't stop us. But it seemed like so much effort without Miranda on the line to keep things moving.
"How are you doing?" I asked.
"Fine. You?"
"I'm all right."
Normally the answer to that question would be "I'm doing pretty good" but suddenly, it was changed to "Fine. I'm all right."
"Maybe you wanna get together?" he asked.
"Oh- I don't really feel like doing anything," I answered as I laid down on my bed.
"No, I mean at my house. We could just hang out and talk. Neither of us should be alone right now."
"My parents and Matt are home."
"I'm willing to bet that you aren't gonna talk to them, though."
I sighed. He was right. I loved my parents, but I didn't feel very comfortable talking to them about Miranda. Well, I didn't feel comfortable talking about her at all, but if I had to, I'd want it to be with Gordo.
"OK. I'll come over."
"See you then." He hung up.
I did the same. I put on my flip-flops and went downstairs. I started out the door.
"Where are you going?" mom asked.
"Gordo's."
"Do you want me to walk with you? You shouldn't be alone right now."
"Mom, it's a 2-minute walk. I'll be fine."
Reluctantly, she finally said, "If you're sure…"
I left.
~*~
I knocked on the door. Mr. Gordon answered.
"Lizzie," he said, surprised. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing better," I answered. Every time someone asked me how I was, I was careful not to say anything too positive, afraid it might somehow offend Miranda. "Is Gordo home?"
"Yes, come on in."
I entered and shut the door behind me. I took my sandals off and walked up the stairs to Gordo's room. I knocked.
"C'min," came his voice from the other side. I did.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey."
I stared at his face. It was bruised and had cuts and scabs on it. I'd never seen him like that. "Gordo… your face…"
"You don't look too good yourself," he replied. He raised his left arm so I could see it clearly.
I gasped. All over his entire arm were small scrapes. It was red from the scabbed-over blood.
"When I tossed around in the back, I hit the window. My arm broke the glass."
"Does it hurt?"
He shook his head. "Not anymore. You can sit down if you want." I sat on a chair for his desk.
"So…" I tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to me.
Gordo sat on his bed. "Did you hear about Trey's party?" he asked. Trey was a guy in our class. Ethan and him were friends.
"No."
"He invited me this Saturday, but I don't think I'll go."
"Why not?"
"Well, I'm a walking scab. I don't think many girls'll wanna dance with me."
I smiled. "You're fine. I think that this would actually make more girls like you. Pity is always good, wouldn't you say?"
He smiled, too. "I guess."
"I wonder why I wasn't invited…?"
"He probably didn't know you were out of the hospital."
"Maybe."
It bugged me a little, that Trey invited Gordo and not me. I mean, we weren't exactly friends, but I knew Ethan had mentioned me to him a few times, I'd seen him and said hi, and… well, if he invited Gordo, why not me?
"Lizzie?"
"What?"
Gordo's eyes looked sad. They weren't wet, but something in them just screamed "I'm sad." "Talk to me."
"I… I don't know what to say."
"I don't mean talk to me like "How's the weather" talk to me. I mean, really talk to me. We could use a nice heart-to-heart conversation."
I blinked. "What do you want me to say?"
"I think you know what I want you to say."
I sighed. He wanted me to talk to him about Miranda. Instead of saying "I'm fine" he wanted me to actually tell him exactly what I was feeling. "You first."
"Well, I…" He paused. "I miss her. A lot. Whenever I'm about to do something, I think, "I'll invite Lizzie and Miranda." And… I can't. This is gonna sound stupid, but I'm almost worried that it'll slip my mind completely and I'll actually call their house and ask for her. Then her mom'll break down crying, and…" He paused again. "But, it doesn't hurt so much anymore, somehow."
"What do you mean, it doesn't hurt?" I demanded. What was he saying? That he didn't miss our best friend?
"Don't get mad," he said. "Please, Lizzie. I'm just saying… well, it's been awhile, and the wound is healing. Like all these scars on my arm, it's scabbing over. It'll be gone soon."
"GONE?" I cried. My voice was now raised and I was angry. Very angry. "How could you say that, Gordo? How? Miranda is dead! Dead!" I started to cry. "How could you think it's going to be OK?"
"Lizzie, that isn't what I meant. It's only that… well, I'm getting used to her not being here."
"You don't miss her?"
"Of course I do!" Gordo stood and his voice was raised now, too. "I loved her as much as you did! Do you know what I did this morning? I looked at pictures. Of her."
"You did not love her like I did!" I replied, infuriated. "How dare you say that! We shared things together that we could never tell you!"
"Quit acting like a jerk! You're getting mad at me because I'm telling the truth?"
"Oh, now I'm the jerk? You're the one who's so insensitive! We were best friends for so many years… and now that she's gone you just pick up where we left off!"
"Stop acting like you're the only one that misses her! She was my friend, too!"
I started crying again. This was horrible! Nothing was right. Miranda wasn't here… and now Gordo and I were fighting. What else could go wrong?
"If she was your friend, then how could you forget about her?" I asked finally, my voice lower now.
"I never said I forgot about her. I never will. But jeez, Lizzie, are we gonna be in mourning for the rest of our lives? There's so much more out there in the world. We can't let this get us down."
"So I'm supposed to be happy? Happy that she's gone?"
"Look, I realize that you don't believe what I believe, but listen to this: The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away."
I paused. "What?"
"You have so many things to be grateful for, and now that one thing is taken away you're so sad about it. Miranda was much more than a thing, I realize, but her absence doesn't take away all of the other things we have to be grateful for. I'm not being insensitive, I'm being grateful."
"Grateful that your God took her away?"
"As much as it may hurt us, He had a right. After all, we have so much. Now something is gone, something is missing. But we still have everything else around us. Parents, friends…" When he spoke next, his voice was so soft I almost had to strain to hear him. "Each other."
I sniffed. "I'm sorry."
"So am I."
We shared a hug. I had such a mix of feelings right then. Ashamed, sad, angry, bitter, and yet grateful. Grateful for Gordo.
