Things I'll Never Say
A/N: Once again, I'm more than ecstatic about the reviews I have received. You have no idea how wonderful it is to check my e-mail to find all these review alerts waiting for me! Maybe you might, but whatever . . . lol. I appreciate everyone's comments so much!
Note to joe: Hey! :) I appreciate the constructive criticism you offered me in your review, but I have to say that I disagree with your comment that my usages of "Miranda and me" and "Gordo and me" are incorrect. "Whoever and I" isn't always the correct form. However, I do agree with you very much about my comma issue (although you weren't too clear about whether I am using too many or not enough), because it's always been one of my weaker spots in English class. Thanks for taking the time to review and point out what I was doing wrong.
Disclaimer: Lizzie McGuire doesn't belong to me; "Things I'll Never Say" belongs to Avril Lavigne; Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrman.
Chapter Three:
After school the next day, Mrs. Baxter had Principal Williams announce that the cast had been chosen and for anyone who had auditioned to check the list she had posted in the back of the auditorium. Needless to say, when the dismissal bell rang, Miranda practically dragged Gordo and me to the auditorium, where there was already a crowd growing. She pushed us forward excitedly.
"Miranda!" I said, laughing as I tucked some hair behind my ear. "You're more excited than we are!" I looked at Gordo, who nodded in affirmation.
"Yeah, really," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "It doesn't really matter when you check the list, because the names aren't suddenly going to rearrange themselves."
Miranda narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, and then shook her head. "Whatever you say, Gordo." Then she turned to me, her eyes sparkling. "Lizzie, if you don't just go back there to see if you got Satine, then I think I'm going to bust a gut in anticipation!"
I rolled my eyes at her. The truth was, I was probably just as excited about finding out which role I had been given, but I didn't want to look stupid in front of . . .
I stopped myself. In front of who? Gordo?
Quickly, I shook my head to rid myself of any thoughts, and then grabbed Gordo's shirt sleeve. "Come on, we wouldn't want Miranda to 'bust a gut'," I said. "I think I might feel guilty if we did."
He grinned at me, and together we walked toward the list. Miranda sat in one of the seats, her knees pushed tightly together and her hands clasped. There were several kids still reading the list, while some had stalked off to the side, looking miserable. I assumed that they hadn't gotten the role they wanted, and felt sorry for them for a brief moment. Then, I continued making my way to the list, and jumped up and down for a minute when I saw the top two lines.
Satine: Lizzie McGuire
Christian: David Gordon
Miranda must have taken my jumping up and down for getting to be Satine, and she dashed toward me, pulling both Gordo and me into a tight hug when she reached us. When she pulled away, she stated, "Oh, my Lizzie's gonna be a prostitute!" Turning to Gordo, she added, "And my Gordo's gonna be a penniless poet who falls in love with the prostitute!" She let out a loud, fake-sounding sob and buried her face in her hands. "I've never been more proud!"
Gordo raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of scary, Miranda," he said honestly. "I guess it's a good thing you didn't audition for a part."
Miranda shot Gordo a look and punched him softly on the arm. I laughed, shaking my head for what seemed to be the millionth time that day.
The three of us stood there for a little while longer, chattering excitedly about the play with Miranda pretending to cry every few minutes. Finally, Gordo caught my attention and told me that there was a note to all of the actors and actresses in the play to see Mrs. Baxter for a script, so we all said our goodbyes. Miranda quickly left the building to get a ride home from her boyfriend, while Gordo and I went to the drama room.
When we entered, Mrs. Baxter was seated at her desk, her glasses perched on her nose. She seemed to be very interested in reading whatever it was she was reading. "Hey, Mrs. Baxter," I said, getting her attention. When she looked up, I smiled at her. "Gordo and I came to get our scripts," I explained.
"And to find out when our first rehearsal is," Gordo added.
Mrs. Baxter dug through the piles and piles of papers on her desk, finally withdrawing two scripts. I could see the words Moulin Rouge written on the covers. Smiling, Mrs. Baxter handed a copy to me and a copy to Gordo. "To answer your question, David," she started, "our first rehearsal is tomorrow from 3-5 after school. Tardiness will not be tolerated."
"Thanks," Gordo said, flipping through the pages of the script. He looked at me and we headed for the door, but before we could exit, Mrs. Baxter stopped us.
"David, Elizabeth," she said, taking off her glasses and setting them on her desk. "As I'm sure you know, this is a very romantic play, with the majority of the romance going on between Christian and Satine." She looked at us pointedly, staring straight into our eyes. "I know you've been friends for quite a while, and just wanted to make sure that your friendship would not make any . . . romantic scenes that you'd have to perform awkward."
I looked at Gordo out of the corner of my eye, trying to see if he was uncomfortable. "I don't have any problems with it," I said. Quickly, I added, "That is, if Gordo doesn't care." I felt my cheeks heat up, and I struggled to control the blush that was threatening to spread across my face.
Gordo's eyes met mine, and I quickly turned my head to study my nails. "No, I don't mind," he said. "We're just friends. Why should it matter?"
I nodded. "Yeah. And we're seniors, so we can be mature about it."
I thought I saw Mrs. Baxter's eyes flash with amusement for a brief second, but that look was quickly gone. "All right, I just wanted to make sure that you two were comfortable with your parts." She smiled warmly. "Why don't you head on home now?" she suggested.
"All right," Gordo said, turning to walk out the door. "Do you need a ride home again, Lizzie?"
"Yeah . . . thanks for offering." I followed him out the door, stopping to say a brief goodbye to Mrs. Baxter.
A/N: *tear* I love you guys! Seriously . . . at first I was a bit apprehensive about posting anything of mine on here, because sometimes I tend to be sensitive, but I'm really glad I did. (Again, thank you Corrie!) You've all boosted my self-confidence up a bit.
I think I got some of your all's hopes up with the slightly longer second chapter, but I'm sorry to say that this chapter is shorter than the second chapter, and I think a little shorter than the first, as well. Oops!
Once again, if you'd like to be notified of when I update, e-mail me at riflediva726@yahoo.com . . . please do not say so in a review, because then I may miss you when it comes time to send out an e-mail. Thanks.
Note to joe: Hey! :) I appreciate the constructive criticism you offered me in your review, but I have to say that I disagree with your comment that my usages of "Miranda and me" and "Gordo and me" are incorrect. "Whoever and I" isn't always the correct form. However, I do agree with you very much about my comma issue (although you weren't too clear about whether I am using too many or not enough), because it's always been one of my weaker spots in English class. Thanks for taking the time to review and point out what I was doing wrong.
Disclaimer: Lizzie McGuire doesn't belong to me; "Things I'll Never Say" belongs to Avril Lavigne; Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrman.
After school the next day, Mrs. Baxter had Principal Williams announce that the cast had been chosen and for anyone who had auditioned to check the list she had posted in the back of the auditorium. Needless to say, when the dismissal bell rang, Miranda practically dragged Gordo and me to the auditorium, where there was already a crowd growing. She pushed us forward excitedly.
"Miranda!" I said, laughing as I tucked some hair behind my ear. "You're more excited than we are!" I looked at Gordo, who nodded in affirmation.
"Yeah, really," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "It doesn't really matter when you check the list, because the names aren't suddenly going to rearrange themselves."
Miranda narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, and then shook her head. "Whatever you say, Gordo." Then she turned to me, her eyes sparkling. "Lizzie, if you don't just go back there to see if you got Satine, then I think I'm going to bust a gut in anticipation!"
I rolled my eyes at her. The truth was, I was probably just as excited about finding out which role I had been given, but I didn't want to look stupid in front of . . .
I stopped myself. In front of who? Gordo?
Quickly, I shook my head to rid myself of any thoughts, and then grabbed Gordo's shirt sleeve. "Come on, we wouldn't want Miranda to 'bust a gut'," I said. "I think I might feel guilty if we did."
He grinned at me, and together we walked toward the list. Miranda sat in one of the seats, her knees pushed tightly together and her hands clasped. There were several kids still reading the list, while some had stalked off to the side, looking miserable. I assumed that they hadn't gotten the role they wanted, and felt sorry for them for a brief moment. Then, I continued making my way to the list, and jumped up and down for a minute when I saw the top two lines.
Satine: Lizzie McGuire
Christian: David Gordon
Miranda must have taken my jumping up and down for getting to be Satine, and she dashed toward me, pulling both Gordo and me into a tight hug when she reached us. When she pulled away, she stated, "Oh, my Lizzie's gonna be a prostitute!" Turning to Gordo, she added, "And my Gordo's gonna be a penniless poet who falls in love with the prostitute!" She let out a loud, fake-sounding sob and buried her face in her hands. "I've never been more proud!"
Gordo raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of scary, Miranda," he said honestly. "I guess it's a good thing you didn't audition for a part."
Miranda shot Gordo a look and punched him softly on the arm. I laughed, shaking my head for what seemed to be the millionth time that day.
The three of us stood there for a little while longer, chattering excitedly about the play with Miranda pretending to cry every few minutes. Finally, Gordo caught my attention and told me that there was a note to all of the actors and actresses in the play to see Mrs. Baxter for a script, so we all said our goodbyes. Miranda quickly left the building to get a ride home from her boyfriend, while Gordo and I went to the drama room.
When we entered, Mrs. Baxter was seated at her desk, her glasses perched on her nose. She seemed to be very interested in reading whatever it was she was reading. "Hey, Mrs. Baxter," I said, getting her attention. When she looked up, I smiled at her. "Gordo and I came to get our scripts," I explained.
"And to find out when our first rehearsal is," Gordo added.
Mrs. Baxter dug through the piles and piles of papers on her desk, finally withdrawing two scripts. I could see the words Moulin Rouge written on the covers. Smiling, Mrs. Baxter handed a copy to me and a copy to Gordo. "To answer your question, David," she started, "our first rehearsal is tomorrow from 3-5 after school. Tardiness will not be tolerated."
"Thanks," Gordo said, flipping through the pages of the script. He looked at me and we headed for the door, but before we could exit, Mrs. Baxter stopped us.
"David, Elizabeth," she said, taking off her glasses and setting them on her desk. "As I'm sure you know, this is a very romantic play, with the majority of the romance going on between Christian and Satine." She looked at us pointedly, staring straight into our eyes. "I know you've been friends for quite a while, and just wanted to make sure that your friendship would not make any . . . romantic scenes that you'd have to perform awkward."
I looked at Gordo out of the corner of my eye, trying to see if he was uncomfortable. "I don't have any problems with it," I said. Quickly, I added, "That is, if Gordo doesn't care." I felt my cheeks heat up, and I struggled to control the blush that was threatening to spread across my face.
Gordo's eyes met mine, and I quickly turned my head to study my nails. "No, I don't mind," he said. "We're just friends. Why should it matter?"
I nodded. "Yeah. And we're seniors, so we can be mature about it."
I thought I saw Mrs. Baxter's eyes flash with amusement for a brief second, but that look was quickly gone. "All right, I just wanted to make sure that you two were comfortable with your parts." She smiled warmly. "Why don't you head on home now?" she suggested.
"All right," Gordo said, turning to walk out the door. "Do you need a ride home again, Lizzie?"
"Yeah . . . thanks for offering." I followed him out the door, stopping to say a brief goodbye to Mrs. Baxter.
I think I got some of your all's hopes up with the slightly longer second chapter, but I'm sorry to say that this chapter is shorter than the second chapter, and I think a little shorter than the first, as well. Oops!
Once again, if you'd like to be notified of when I update, e-mail me at riflediva726@yahoo.com . . . please do not say so in a review, because then I may miss you when it comes time to send out an e-mail. Thanks.