A/N: ::blinks excessively:: I forgot Author Note's in the last chapter.
Sorry.. I think after I post the chapter AFTER this, I'll just have one
chapter devoted to author notes. Thanks to all who reviewed!
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Miranda declared it Our Day once we got back from the party.
The girl developed this habit of being able to read me really well. She was pretty good at identify it before, but now it was...what's the word? Uncanny.
"Go ahead, spill," Miranda munched on a Dorito as we sat Indian style on her bed. I sighed, as I had hoped she wouldn't remember. If only we could continue to flip through YM, discussing Josh Hartnett's eyes or a really cute pink dress. But no. Our Day wasn't about that; not really. It was about spilling our hearts out while stuffing our faces. I had mixed feelings about Our Day.
"There was this guy," I began, a sudden feeling of déjà vu. How many bad sentences started with that..
"Daniel," She more stated than asked.
"Yeah. Well, he kind of... he kind of got me a beer," I said, trying to sound casual. "And I kind of tried it.. And then I realized what I was doing, and that I was insane, and that I would NEVER drink. I mean, Lizzie McGuire doesn't drink! ESPECIALLY for a guy."
"So what did you do?," She asked, hanging on my every word. I closed my eyes.
"I-. I just left him," I stuttered. We were quiet for a few minutes, the silence filled only buy the occasional Twinky wrapper.
"I didn't really like him," I admitted after a while. "I guess I just.. I'm just.. I just can't.."
"This is about Gordo, isn't it?," She asked quietly. I sighed.
"I don't know what to do!," I groaned, leaning my head on her shoulder. She patted it absentmindedly, lost in thought. "What SHOULD I do?"
"It's hard," She confessed. "I'm not sure, really.. I mean, I don't want YOU to get hurt, but I don't want Gordo to get hurt either!" She sighed. "Do you want me to ask him if he.. If he still feelings the same way about you?" I nodded immediately, not sure if I really wanted this information.
There's something unbelievably confusing about Gordo. He likes to think of himself as...not human. Like he's some kind of superhuman that is above worrying about what other people think, and material things, and getting your hair cut. Sometimes I feel like I'm just not good enough for him. He tells me I'm perfect, and then he yells at me for being a girl. I just don't know what I can do right anymore.
"Miranda," I said slowly, "How do you understand Gordo?" She laughed and looked away, gazing out the window. It was fairly sunny, so the shine gently grazed her cheek.
"I don't," She said finally, "But I make a point to try." I crunched on a chip thoughtfully, absorbing this new concept.
I noticed how Miranda's voice got when the subject of Gordo came up. Maybe I was going on girlfriend paranoia, but I had the oddest feeling she was developing a crush on him.
I don't know why it even mattered. I didn't mind someone liking Gordo; in fact, I encouraged them. But there was something about the fact it was Miranda made my blood boil under my skin.
I admit, outshining Miranda went from accidental habit to fixation. I loved Miranda, I really did, but it felt like, for once, I could get noticed more than someone.
No one really notices Miranda. She's this amazing person, but somehow the blondes always win. I wish that I could share the spotlight with her, I really do. But, in total honesty, I don't mind getting a LITTLE bit more attention than her. It's horrible, I know, but it's true.
"What are you thinking about?," She questioned. I dropped my chip guilty.
"Nothing," I said quickly. She didn't press me to go further, and for that I was grateful.
"Well," Miranda said finally in the same quiet tone, "I'd better go. I'm baby-sitting Maria... you know, she's going to stay with my aunt for a little while.. Because of.." She quieted. "I'll see you." I stared down at the bag of chips as she left.
Sometimes I wonder if my problems could be any bigger than a pin point. While they're happening, they seem like a huge deal. But then I think of Miranda and her parents or Gordo and worries and I wonder, why do I even bother?
I let pop music pour out of my stereo speakers and flopped back. So, maybe I'll be boyfriend-less. Maybe, when I go to parties (I rubbed my head at the thought of the last one) I won't have anyone to dance with all night long. Would that be so bad?
Yes.
I had the sudden urge to tell Miranda not to ask. I wondered how long I could go out with Gordo and still put on an act.
An act. Lizzie McGuire can't act! Lizzie McGuire can't lie! Lizzie McGuire is thinking in third person.
I sighed and stared at the ceiling. Oh my gosh, why? I punched my pillow, then curled up with it. This sucks.
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Miranda declared it Our Day once we got back from the party.
The girl developed this habit of being able to read me really well. She was pretty good at identify it before, but now it was...what's the word? Uncanny.
"Go ahead, spill," Miranda munched on a Dorito as we sat Indian style on her bed. I sighed, as I had hoped she wouldn't remember. If only we could continue to flip through YM, discussing Josh Hartnett's eyes or a really cute pink dress. But no. Our Day wasn't about that; not really. It was about spilling our hearts out while stuffing our faces. I had mixed feelings about Our Day.
"There was this guy," I began, a sudden feeling of déjà vu. How many bad sentences started with that..
"Daniel," She more stated than asked.
"Yeah. Well, he kind of... he kind of got me a beer," I said, trying to sound casual. "And I kind of tried it.. And then I realized what I was doing, and that I was insane, and that I would NEVER drink. I mean, Lizzie McGuire doesn't drink! ESPECIALLY for a guy."
"So what did you do?," She asked, hanging on my every word. I closed my eyes.
"I-. I just left him," I stuttered. We were quiet for a few minutes, the silence filled only buy the occasional Twinky wrapper.
"I didn't really like him," I admitted after a while. "I guess I just.. I'm just.. I just can't.."
"This is about Gordo, isn't it?," She asked quietly. I sighed.
"I don't know what to do!," I groaned, leaning my head on her shoulder. She patted it absentmindedly, lost in thought. "What SHOULD I do?"
"It's hard," She confessed. "I'm not sure, really.. I mean, I don't want YOU to get hurt, but I don't want Gordo to get hurt either!" She sighed. "Do you want me to ask him if he.. If he still feelings the same way about you?" I nodded immediately, not sure if I really wanted this information.
There's something unbelievably confusing about Gordo. He likes to think of himself as...not human. Like he's some kind of superhuman that is above worrying about what other people think, and material things, and getting your hair cut. Sometimes I feel like I'm just not good enough for him. He tells me I'm perfect, and then he yells at me for being a girl. I just don't know what I can do right anymore.
"Miranda," I said slowly, "How do you understand Gordo?" She laughed and looked away, gazing out the window. It was fairly sunny, so the shine gently grazed her cheek.
"I don't," She said finally, "But I make a point to try." I crunched on a chip thoughtfully, absorbing this new concept.
I noticed how Miranda's voice got when the subject of Gordo came up. Maybe I was going on girlfriend paranoia, but I had the oddest feeling she was developing a crush on him.
I don't know why it even mattered. I didn't mind someone liking Gordo; in fact, I encouraged them. But there was something about the fact it was Miranda made my blood boil under my skin.
I admit, outshining Miranda went from accidental habit to fixation. I loved Miranda, I really did, but it felt like, for once, I could get noticed more than someone.
No one really notices Miranda. She's this amazing person, but somehow the blondes always win. I wish that I could share the spotlight with her, I really do. But, in total honesty, I don't mind getting a LITTLE bit more attention than her. It's horrible, I know, but it's true.
"What are you thinking about?," She questioned. I dropped my chip guilty.
"Nothing," I said quickly. She didn't press me to go further, and for that I was grateful.
"Well," Miranda said finally in the same quiet tone, "I'd better go. I'm baby-sitting Maria... you know, she's going to stay with my aunt for a little while.. Because of.." She quieted. "I'll see you." I stared down at the bag of chips as she left.
Sometimes I wonder if my problems could be any bigger than a pin point. While they're happening, they seem like a huge deal. But then I think of Miranda and her parents or Gordo and worries and I wonder, why do I even bother?
I let pop music pour out of my stereo speakers and flopped back. So, maybe I'll be boyfriend-less. Maybe, when I go to parties (I rubbed my head at the thought of the last one) I won't have anyone to dance with all night long. Would that be so bad?
Yes.
I had the sudden urge to tell Miranda not to ask. I wondered how long I could go out with Gordo and still put on an act.
An act. Lizzie McGuire can't act! Lizzie McGuire can't lie! Lizzie McGuire is thinking in third person.
I sighed and stared at the ceiling. Oh my gosh, why? I punched my pillow, then curled up with it. This sucks.