[A/N: Here I sit. My hands ravenously grab old candy corn from the fragile dish. What is my purpose? Do I write for my own pleasure? Do I write for your pleasure? Yes. And yes. To put it simply, it is a never-ending cycle. I write, and I am happy. You read, and you are happy. You write me a review, and I am happy. My happiness from your reviews prompts me to write. And then it goes around again. I write, so I may write some more.

Sorry, that's my inner philosopher speaking. Onto the story.]

Gordo sat on the edge of his chair. He lied his head down onto his folded arms. He had asked Lizzie and Miranda to meet him at the Digital Bean at 6:00. Just to hang out. But his parents had a meeting at 6:00, and dropped him off half an hour early. He was so bored, that he'd might as well be on his death bed.

Pessimistic Gordo said that he should poke his eyes out, because those girls would never get there. Optimistic Gordo said that he should wait, because they'd arrive soon.

Plus, it gives me some alone time. UhI guess this counts as alone time. I'm alone in the crowd.

He decided to observe people around him. It was something he'd been doing forever. He'd psychoanalyze everyone, based only on their appearance and body language. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he'd pay no attention to the people speaking nearby. "Don't even try," Miranda would say. "He's people-watching again."

He saw people he recognized from school earlier that day. Gordo was like that. He'd remember people he only saw for a split-second. But there were no seniors, or juniors. They'd outgrown the Digital Bean. Or maybe they just never came here at all. That made him wonder when he'd be too old for it. He never wanted to be. It held so many memories, this place. For one, of course, his first kiss. With that girl Brooke. Ick. I wonder if she goes to Hillridge High now

It was then that he realized he hadn't been thinking about anyone but himself, while he was he one who was supposed to be "people-watching". Maybe I've outgrown it now. But he still found himself looking at people, but only for a few mere seconds, before moving on to the next person.

Gordo looked over to find a girl, sitting at a table, all by her lonesome. She was reading a book, but the front cover was hanging on for its dear life. She put the book down for a minute, and he saw some familiarity in her downward-glancing eyes. He ran down a mental list of everyone he'd seen that day.

Chemisty, he thought. That's the girl from chemistry. How could I forget? She was so

"Hey." Amidst his thoughts, he'd somehow walked to her, and now he was talking to her. But why?

She put the book down and looked up at him.

"Yes?" She spoke sternly, but gently, all at the same time. How does she do that?

It was then that it occurred to him that she probably didn't remember who he was.

"I'm uh" he stumbled.

"David. I know," she said, before she turned back to her book.

If this were any other person who had just snubbed him, he would've walked away, and forgotten about it. But for once, this was someone who was actually shier than him. And that was very advantageous.

He sat next to her, his hands sprawled out on the tabletop. His fingers had a mind of their own, drumming an unknown beat. The girl again slapped her book back down onto the table.

"Can I help you?" It was plain to see that she was annoyed by his presence. But he wouldn't give up.

Unfortunately, this didn't seem to be the type of girl who would go for the old "Wanna go out some time?" She needed something deeper, something more meaningful, something she could escape to

"Don't pencil sharpeners just make the most annoying noises?" he inquired. "Sometimes, when people are using them, I get the urge to unplug them, and throw them against a brick wall. I haven't gotten that chance yet, though."

She stifled a giggle. Not an annoying, valley-girl giggle. A normal giggle. An earnest giggle.

"Oh, so the creature does laugh." He said through his own laughter.

"Creature? I've known you for less than a day, and already you're calling me a creature?" She said, grinning.

"Would you rather I call you a critter'?"

This caused more laugher between the two.

"No, but seriouslywould you grant me the honor of knowing your full name?"

"Carly Atkins is my name. Actually, if you want to get technical, it's Carly Xaviera Atkins."

He shook her hand.

"Welcome to Weird Middle Names Anonymous."

She gave him a questioning look.

"Zephyr. David Zephyr Gordon."

"And I thought mine was crazy." They both smiled at each other.

"So, Xaviera, need any help with your homework? Particularlychemistry?"

"Oh, that's okay, Zephyr. I think I've already got chemistry down." Then she realized another possible meaning for the statement. "I mean.."

Gordo laughed, but quickly turned away, so she wouldn't see his reddened face.

Twenty minutes later, they were still sitting there. Carly was talking about her 4th of July that summer, and how her aunt burned down her house.

"She insisted on being the cook, even though we all know she probably couldn't even make macaroni and cheese---the microwavable kind. We never even should've let her near the grill. To make a long story short, her apron caught on fire, and she went inside and caught a few flammable items on fire, et cetera. My mom called 911, and"

Lizzie walked over to the table.

"Oh. HeyLizzie. This is my friend, Carly," Gordo said, motioning to the meek girl.

As if someone had suddenly turned her pep meter all the way down, she resumed being the meek girl she was that day in class.

"Hi," Carly said, barely looking up.

"Um, hi," Lizzie said, before turning to Gordo. "Miranda can't come. Can I um, talk to you? Inprivate?"

His friend looked downtrodden. Her hair was a mess. It was almost likelike she didn't care. It had an urge to talk to her. He had an urge to tellAHH! What am I saying? No. No, no, no, no, no. It would probably just screw up her life. Her perfect life.

"Lizziecan it wait? I was sort of talking to Carly, and"

"Gordo, please?" Lizzie cocked her head stared at him with puppy dog eyes. But he could tell that she wasn't faking. Something serious had happened. But Carly

He couldn't choose who to go with. Lizzie or Carly. Lizzie or Carly. Lizzie or Carly.

He quickly checked his watch and stood up.

"Oh, look at the time, I've umgot to go. See you tomorrow."

And Gordo sped out the door.

[A/N: Ahh, can you say "Writer's Block"? I was so confused as to what to put in this entry. What's actually kind of funny is that I made an outline for this chapter before I started to writing it, and I barely followed it. What's also very funny is that I started this around 6:30, and it's 8:40 now and I just finished it. Well, okay, actually, you can subtract an hour because I ate dinner and watched "Lizzie McGuire", but yeah, that's still an hour. Long chapter here, no? Next to be updated: Obituaries. Please review, thanks!]