Things I'll Never Say
A/N: Championships are over! My guard placed 2nd in our class so now we have pretty silver medals and the title of 2003 silver medalists. It's great. :) Anyway, thought I would update!
Disclaimer: Lizzie McGuire doesn't belong to me; "Things I'll Never Say" belongs to Avril Lavigne; Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrmann.
Chapter Eleven:
"Are you sure you guys will be okay by yourselves?" Mom asked, looking worriedly outside, where it was currently pouring the rain. A flash of lightning illuminated our front yard, and I jumped a little.
"We'll be fine, Mom," I assured her with a small laugh. "As long as Matt and Lanny stay out of our hair, everything will be great."
The look of worry never left Mom's face, however, and I rolled my eyes when she wasn't looking. I was eighteen and she still worried about leaving me home alone, when technically I wasn't even home alone! It had been arranged that while Mom and Dad went downtown to have a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant for their 20 year anniversary, Gordo and I would work on the play while Matt and Lanny did something in Matt's room--they were probably plotting world domination or some other stupid thing like that, knowing them.
Gordo chose that moment to speak up. "Mrs. McGuire, really, Lizzie and I will be fine," he said, his voice calm and soothing. "We'll lock all the doors and windows, turn on all the lights, and we won't open the door to anybody. Nobody at all! We have the emergency numbers, and if anything tragic should happen and we need a responsible adult, we'll call next door to Mrs. Roman's. You and Mr. McGuire need to go out and have a good time!"
Mom seemed very cajoled with Gordo's comforting words and I grinned. "Well . . . you have Sam's beeper and cell number, right?" she asked, clutching her shawl around her shoulders more tightly. When Gordo and I nodded, Mom smiled. "All right, then. Keep Matt and Lanny in line for me. Sam, we'll be late! Hurry!"
A few minutes later, after Dad came running down the stairs still tying his tie, my parents finally disappeared out the front door. Gordo and I watched them until they pulled out of the driveway and drove until we couldn't see them any longer, and then we shut and locked the door, as promised. Then I promptly collapsed against it, letting out a huge whoosh of air. "I thought we would never get them out of here!"
Gordo laughed. "They're just being protective parents, Lizzie," he commented with a smile. "If my parents were as worried about me as yours are about you, I guarantee that I wouldn't do half the shit I do."
"Yeah, like you're Mr. Badass," I remarked sarcastically, laughing when Gordo pretended to look offended. Once my laughing had more or less died down, Gordo and I headed for the living room, where we had put our books and bags when Gordo first arrived at my house. As we walked through the door, thunder clapped and lightning flashed and I jumped for the second time in ten minutes. Gordo laughed at me.
I punched him playfully on the arm. "Stop that," I said, grinning at him. By that time we were in the living room so I flopped down on the couch next to Gordo's bookbag and reached for my copy of my script, which was sitting on the coffee table. Gordo moved his bag and sat down next to me, and I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not, but it seemed that he sat a little closer than he normally would. I smiled to myself and for a brief moment wondered if he possibly liked me as more than a friend.
Then I reminded myself that we had promised after the junior high incident to never fall for each other again, and Gordo wasn't one to break promises. I was the opposite of Gordo in that respect, and I had broken that promise, but it was not very likely that Gordo had. I sighed resignedly and flipped to a random page in my script.
Gordo must have heard my sigh. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. "Gordo, we really need to work on these trouble spots. Opening night isn't too far away," I added.
Gordo took my script from me and made me look at him. "Tell me what's wrong," he stated in a demanding voice.
I rolled my eyes and tried to snatch my script back from him, but he held it just out of my reach. "Gordo! I said nothing is wrong!" I shouted, a bit louder than I had intended. He was making me mad, however, so I couldn't help it. I practically tackled him in an attempt to get the script back, but Gordo managed to hold it just far enough away from me so that I couldn't reach it. Finally I sat back, defeated, and crossed my arms over my chest. "You are really pissing me off. You know that, right?"
He smiled faintly. "Yes, I'm aware," he returned. "But not purposely. I just wanted to know why you sighed."
"It's nothing!" I exclaimed again. "Listen, Gordo, I'm not feeling very well. Maybe you should go home."
I felt guilty as soon as the hurt look crossed Gordo's face. I wanted to apologize and tell him that I was just PMSing, but I could tell that it was too late by the way the hurt look was almost immediately replaced with a look of indifference. When Gordo was hurt or angry, that was the look he wore and a simple apology could never make it better.
"If that's what you think," Gordo answered, his voice cold, as he stood up and began gathering his things. "I guess we could work on this when you feel better." By the tone of his voice, I could tell that he knew I had made up the excuse on the spot, and my guilt rose.
I followed him out of the room. I found it hard to keep up with his long strides due to my legs, which were much shorter than his, but I managed to stay within a foot of him. He and I reached the door at the same time, and I managed to jump in front to block his exit. "Don't go. I suddenly feel a whole lot better."
Gordo did not look convinced and he tried to move past me to leave. "Lizzie, please move out of my way," he said, his voice controlled.
"Gordo," I started again, but he cut me off.
"Move." When I didn't do like he asked, Gordo gently pushed me aside and opened the door wide enough for him to slip out. "Talk to you later."
A thousand thoughts were running through my head at that moment. I had no idea what to do, so I just did the first logical thing I came up with: I grabbed Gordo's arm to prevent him from leaving, causing him to turn around to look at me questioningly, just like I had expected him to. Taking a quick deep breath, I mustered all the courage I had and kissed him directly on the lips.
A/N: Guess what!! THEY KISSED! I'm thinking that I will be able to finish up this story in 2-3 more chapters, but since I'm such an odd person, anything can change at any moment. Hopefully you found this chapter to your liking, and I will be back very soon (a couple of days) with chapter 12. Plus, I will be posting a ghost story I wrote for English class on FictionPress.net here in a little bit, so I'll make the announcement when it is posted in case anybody wants to read it! I'm also working on an original story, tentatively titled "Painted Black", and the first chapter should be out in a few days. As a final note, I have writers block for Old, New, Borrowed, Blue so I am accepting any ideas/requests anyone has for that!! Thanks!
Disclaimer: Lizzie McGuire doesn't belong to me; "Things I'll Never Say" belongs to Avril Lavigne; Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrmann.
"Are you sure you guys will be okay by yourselves?" Mom asked, looking worriedly outside, where it was currently pouring the rain. A flash of lightning illuminated our front yard, and I jumped a little.
"We'll be fine, Mom," I assured her with a small laugh. "As long as Matt and Lanny stay out of our hair, everything will be great."
The look of worry never left Mom's face, however, and I rolled my eyes when she wasn't looking. I was eighteen and she still worried about leaving me home alone, when technically I wasn't even home alone! It had been arranged that while Mom and Dad went downtown to have a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant for their 20 year anniversary, Gordo and I would work on the play while Matt and Lanny did something in Matt's room--they were probably plotting world domination or some other stupid thing like that, knowing them.
Gordo chose that moment to speak up. "Mrs. McGuire, really, Lizzie and I will be fine," he said, his voice calm and soothing. "We'll lock all the doors and windows, turn on all the lights, and we won't open the door to anybody. Nobody at all! We have the emergency numbers, and if anything tragic should happen and we need a responsible adult, we'll call next door to Mrs. Roman's. You and Mr. McGuire need to go out and have a good time!"
Mom seemed very cajoled with Gordo's comforting words and I grinned. "Well . . . you have Sam's beeper and cell number, right?" she asked, clutching her shawl around her shoulders more tightly. When Gordo and I nodded, Mom smiled. "All right, then. Keep Matt and Lanny in line for me. Sam, we'll be late! Hurry!"
A few minutes later, after Dad came running down the stairs still tying his tie, my parents finally disappeared out the front door. Gordo and I watched them until they pulled out of the driveway and drove until we couldn't see them any longer, and then we shut and locked the door, as promised. Then I promptly collapsed against it, letting out a huge whoosh of air. "I thought we would never get them out of here!"
Gordo laughed. "They're just being protective parents, Lizzie," he commented with a smile. "If my parents were as worried about me as yours are about you, I guarantee that I wouldn't do half the shit I do."
"Yeah, like you're Mr. Badass," I remarked sarcastically, laughing when Gordo pretended to look offended. Once my laughing had more or less died down, Gordo and I headed for the living room, where we had put our books and bags when Gordo first arrived at my house. As we walked through the door, thunder clapped and lightning flashed and I jumped for the second time in ten minutes. Gordo laughed at me.
I punched him playfully on the arm. "Stop that," I said, grinning at him. By that time we were in the living room so I flopped down on the couch next to Gordo's bookbag and reached for my copy of my script, which was sitting on the coffee table. Gordo moved his bag and sat down next to me, and I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not, but it seemed that he sat a little closer than he normally would. I smiled to myself and for a brief moment wondered if he possibly liked me as more than a friend.
Then I reminded myself that we had promised after the junior high incident to never fall for each other again, and Gordo wasn't one to break promises. I was the opposite of Gordo in that respect, and I had broken that promise, but it was not very likely that Gordo had. I sighed resignedly and flipped to a random page in my script.
Gordo must have heard my sigh. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. "Gordo, we really need to work on these trouble spots. Opening night isn't too far away," I added.
Gordo took my script from me and made me look at him. "Tell me what's wrong," he stated in a demanding voice.
I rolled my eyes and tried to snatch my script back from him, but he held it just out of my reach. "Gordo! I said nothing is wrong!" I shouted, a bit louder than I had intended. He was making me mad, however, so I couldn't help it. I practically tackled him in an attempt to get the script back, but Gordo managed to hold it just far enough away from me so that I couldn't reach it. Finally I sat back, defeated, and crossed my arms over my chest. "You are really pissing me off. You know that, right?"
He smiled faintly. "Yes, I'm aware," he returned. "But not purposely. I just wanted to know why you sighed."
"It's nothing!" I exclaimed again. "Listen, Gordo, I'm not feeling very well. Maybe you should go home."
I felt guilty as soon as the hurt look crossed Gordo's face. I wanted to apologize and tell him that I was just PMSing, but I could tell that it was too late by the way the hurt look was almost immediately replaced with a look of indifference. When Gordo was hurt or angry, that was the look he wore and a simple apology could never make it better.
"If that's what you think," Gordo answered, his voice cold, as he stood up and began gathering his things. "I guess we could work on this when you feel better." By the tone of his voice, I could tell that he knew I had made up the excuse on the spot, and my guilt rose.
I followed him out of the room. I found it hard to keep up with his long strides due to my legs, which were much shorter than his, but I managed to stay within a foot of him. He and I reached the door at the same time, and I managed to jump in front to block his exit. "Don't go. I suddenly feel a whole lot better."
Gordo did not look convinced and he tried to move past me to leave. "Lizzie, please move out of my way," he said, his voice controlled.
"Gordo," I started again, but he cut me off.
"Move." When I didn't do like he asked, Gordo gently pushed me aside and opened the door wide enough for him to slip out. "Talk to you later."
A thousand thoughts were running through my head at that moment. I had no idea what to do, so I just did the first logical thing I came up with: I grabbed Gordo's arm to prevent him from leaving, causing him to turn around to look at me questioningly, just like I had expected him to. Taking a quick deep breath, I mustered all the courage I had and kissed him directly on the lips.