Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire.
A/N Okay, this chapter is way shorter than the others. Sorry. But I know what I'm doing with the next chapter and so I have to stop where I am. And anyway, what's the deal with www.fanfiction.net? I can't get to the newly updated stories. Hmm….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I can't hide the way I feel about you,
Anymore.
I can't hold the hurt inside,
Keep the pain out of my eyes,
Anymore."
-Travis Tritt, Anymore
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What was she going to say? She could feign insanity, which, she was well aware, would not be too much of a stretch. After all, people always said that love made them do crazy things.
She was gasping for breath by the time she reached his front door. Inwardly, she was trembling.
*Okay, just breathe. Remember, in and out, in and out…*
Ignoring the pain in her sides from the run, she rang the doorbell.
"I've got it," she heard him call.
And suddenly he was standing right in front of her.
"Lizzie," he greeted, his eyes blank. Whatever he was feeling, he gave no indication.
"Hey," she said, "I was wondering if we could talk for a minute, if you have the time. I mean, if not, it's okay, but…" She halted to inhale more air.
He stepped outside. "What?"
He wasn't going to make this easy.
"Gordo, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about today."
*Now, Lizzie, was that so bad?*
"I don't know why I was so hateful to you. It's not like I think you could never be in love. I just… wanted to hurt you."
"Why?" His voice was so soft with intensity that she found herself unable to avoid his eyes. As if captivated, she groped for words.
"I-"
*Say it!*
"I… wish I could tell you."
*That's okay. I figure, I've still got about a day or two before I die of a broken heart.
Quick to change the subject, she asked, "So when WERE you in love?" A variation of the question she had been dying to ask since Kate's revelation.
He dropped into a sitting position on his porch and she followed suit. "Earlier this year," he responded, obviously uncomfortable.
"What happened," she persisted.
*Easy, Lizzie.*
"A classic case of bad timing. I loved her at a point where she couldn't see me as anything more than Gordo."
"Maybe if you'd told her."
He glanced at her. "No. I'm just Gordo to her."
"Do you still love her?"
*Alright, well, here we go.*
He grinned. "Oh, no you don't, McGuire. What about YOUR mystery love?"
She stood. "MY mystery love?"
"Yeah. You were in love, weren't you?"
"Yes."
"When was this? Actually, better question. Who?"
"I plead the fifth," she joked, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt.
"Well, what happened?"
"Just another instance of bad timing. I learned that he liked me but by the time I realized I felt the same way, he was over me."
"And you never said a word?"
"How do you tell someone that has moved on that you love them?"
"If it helps, it doesn't sound like he was that great anyway. I mean, you're… absolutely wonderful. Obviously he didn't realize what was in front of him."
She fought the tears rising to the surface. Why was he so clueless?
"Gordo, I'm really sorry. I know I already said it, but…"
"Look," he said, an attempt at being reassuring, "it wasn't what you said that made me so angry." He smiled and took her hand. "I was just mad at the underlying statement. You know, that because I'm smart I'm incapable of having feelings. That it would be impossible for me to find myself head over heels for a girl."
Lizzie fought back the shivers crawling up her spine as he gently squeezed her hand and released it.
"How about you come inside for a while, and we'll watch a movie," he suggested, moving towards the door to open it for her.
She murmured her thanks and crossed into the living room.
Unbeknownst to her, a pair of familiar blue eyes were watching her every movement as she rummaged through his video collection.
Ashamed, Gordo dropped his gaze to the carpet. How long, he wondered, had it been since he'd made that promise to himself that, no matter what, he would hide his feelings so deep that no one would see them?
Through the whole Ethan ordeal, he had remained silent, his feelings ever present, with a faith that one day her eyes would be opened, and she could see him as more than a friend. And with Ronnie, he had been swift to pick up the pieces, his heart unable to watch the pain in her eyes.
But after that last guy, Paolo, he had almost lost his mind. His heart had ached every moment that he saw her with him. When she'd climbed into the back of that scooter, he'd felt cool dread flow through is body. A fear unlike any other-the fear of losing her to the life she seemed to fit so well into was forever there.
That was why, on the plane back, he'd made the decision. At one point he'd glanced over at her and realized the cold hard fact: She was never going to see it. He would never be the one that made her pulse race, he'd never be able to hold her in his arms, or kiss her under the evening stars. She would never, could never love him that way.
Of course then there had been times like today that made him wonder. Like swimming. If he hadn't known better, than he would say that in that moment before the storm, with his arms wrapped around her, she had been aching for that kiss the way he had been. But that was ridiculous.
"What do you want to watch," she called, motioning sheepishly at the mild mess she had made on his floor with the scattered array of tapes she had drawn from the T.V. table.
Forcing a platonic smile on his face and moving to the living room to join his friend, he found himself replying, "How about Beauty and the Beast?"
A/N Okay, this chapter is way shorter than the others. Sorry. But I know what I'm doing with the next chapter and so I have to stop where I am. And anyway, what's the deal with www.fanfiction.net? I can't get to the newly updated stories. Hmm….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I can't hide the way I feel about you,
Anymore.
I can't hold the hurt inside,
Keep the pain out of my eyes,
Anymore."
-Travis Tritt, Anymore
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What was she going to say? She could feign insanity, which, she was well aware, would not be too much of a stretch. After all, people always said that love made them do crazy things.
She was gasping for breath by the time she reached his front door. Inwardly, she was trembling.
*Okay, just breathe. Remember, in and out, in and out…*
Ignoring the pain in her sides from the run, she rang the doorbell.
"I've got it," she heard him call.
And suddenly he was standing right in front of her.
"Lizzie," he greeted, his eyes blank. Whatever he was feeling, he gave no indication.
"Hey," she said, "I was wondering if we could talk for a minute, if you have the time. I mean, if not, it's okay, but…" She halted to inhale more air.
He stepped outside. "What?"
He wasn't going to make this easy.
"Gordo, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about today."
*Now, Lizzie, was that so bad?*
"I don't know why I was so hateful to you. It's not like I think you could never be in love. I just… wanted to hurt you."
"Why?" His voice was so soft with intensity that she found herself unable to avoid his eyes. As if captivated, she groped for words.
"I-"
*Say it!*
"I… wish I could tell you."
*That's okay. I figure, I've still got about a day or two before I die of a broken heart.
Quick to change the subject, she asked, "So when WERE you in love?" A variation of the question she had been dying to ask since Kate's revelation.
He dropped into a sitting position on his porch and she followed suit. "Earlier this year," he responded, obviously uncomfortable.
"What happened," she persisted.
*Easy, Lizzie.*
"A classic case of bad timing. I loved her at a point where she couldn't see me as anything more than Gordo."
"Maybe if you'd told her."
He glanced at her. "No. I'm just Gordo to her."
"Do you still love her?"
*Alright, well, here we go.*
He grinned. "Oh, no you don't, McGuire. What about YOUR mystery love?"
She stood. "MY mystery love?"
"Yeah. You were in love, weren't you?"
"Yes."
"When was this? Actually, better question. Who?"
"I plead the fifth," she joked, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt.
"Well, what happened?"
"Just another instance of bad timing. I learned that he liked me but by the time I realized I felt the same way, he was over me."
"And you never said a word?"
"How do you tell someone that has moved on that you love them?"
"If it helps, it doesn't sound like he was that great anyway. I mean, you're… absolutely wonderful. Obviously he didn't realize what was in front of him."
She fought the tears rising to the surface. Why was he so clueless?
"Gordo, I'm really sorry. I know I already said it, but…"
"Look," he said, an attempt at being reassuring, "it wasn't what you said that made me so angry." He smiled and took her hand. "I was just mad at the underlying statement. You know, that because I'm smart I'm incapable of having feelings. That it would be impossible for me to find myself head over heels for a girl."
Lizzie fought back the shivers crawling up her spine as he gently squeezed her hand and released it.
"How about you come inside for a while, and we'll watch a movie," he suggested, moving towards the door to open it for her.
She murmured her thanks and crossed into the living room.
Unbeknownst to her, a pair of familiar blue eyes were watching her every movement as she rummaged through his video collection.
Ashamed, Gordo dropped his gaze to the carpet. How long, he wondered, had it been since he'd made that promise to himself that, no matter what, he would hide his feelings so deep that no one would see them?
Through the whole Ethan ordeal, he had remained silent, his feelings ever present, with a faith that one day her eyes would be opened, and she could see him as more than a friend. And with Ronnie, he had been swift to pick up the pieces, his heart unable to watch the pain in her eyes.
But after that last guy, Paolo, he had almost lost his mind. His heart had ached every moment that he saw her with him. When she'd climbed into the back of that scooter, he'd felt cool dread flow through is body. A fear unlike any other-the fear of losing her to the life she seemed to fit so well into was forever there.
That was why, on the plane back, he'd made the decision. At one point he'd glanced over at her and realized the cold hard fact: She was never going to see it. He would never be the one that made her pulse race, he'd never be able to hold her in his arms, or kiss her under the evening stars. She would never, could never love him that way.
Of course then there had been times like today that made him wonder. Like swimming. If he hadn't known better, than he would say that in that moment before the storm, with his arms wrapped around her, she had been aching for that kiss the way he had been. But that was ridiculous.
"What do you want to watch," she called, motioning sheepishly at the mild mess she had made on his floor with the scattered array of tapes she had drawn from the T.V. table.
Forcing a platonic smile on his face and moving to the living room to join his friend, he found himself replying, "How about Beauty and the Beast?"
