[A/N: Mkay, this story may seem kind of weird, so let me explain. This all takes place inside Lizzie's head, in the form of memories. It kind of jumps from year to year, but always in order, so don't spaz on me or anything. Trust me, it'll all tie together in the end. :) R/R!!]
I'm sitting here tonight, scared out of my mind, and all I can think about is when we were kids. The three of us--Gordo, Miranda, and I--were best friends through our school years. Gordo and I met when we were playing in a sand box. The little boy with curly hair and a Fisher Price camera threw sand at me. I called him stupid, hit him with a shovel, and then said, "My name is Elizabeth Sondra McGuire, and you can be my friend if you want."
"Well MY name is David Zephyr Gordon, but I like Gordo better. I'll be your friend." He smiled, and we've been best friends ever since. Miranda Sanchez moved when we were in the second grade, and we immediately befriended her. The three of us shared everything together, through the rest of elementary, then middle school, high school, and finally college. Now the two most important people are out there waiting for me, and I'm sitting here on a chair that's probably more expensive than my whole apartment, worrying if I'm going to trip and fall when I walk out the door.
I turn to look in the mirror and my mind flashes back to my 7th grade picture day.
"Mom! I can't find my top!" I frantically searched through my closet, searching for the outift I had picked out the night before. "MOM! It's picture day and I HAVE to wear this outfit!!!" I heard my mothers sandals come clacking up the stairs and her blonde head peeked through the door.
"Lizzie, I thought we agreed that you would wear the sweater that your grandmother made you!" She walked over to my closet and pulled out the most hideous article of clothing I own. She held it up, raised an eyebrow, and told me that my grandmother expected to get a copy of my school picture, me wearing this maroon sweater with a fluffy unicorn on the front. The frilly sleeves and collar almost made me puke.
"Mom, are you insane? I CANNOT, repeat, CANNOT wear this to school! Do you understand the importance of today? It's PICTURE DAY!" I stared at her in 13 year old disbelief--the sweater that my 87 year old grandmother knitted could wait until Christmas! She handed me the sweater and walked out of my bedroom, head held high.
Thirty minutes later I met Miranda and Gordo at the bus stop. They both shared the same look of disbelief that I had show my mother a half hour ago. "Uh...Lizzie...did you get dressed with your EYES closed this morning? Do you know WHAT you are wearing?" Miranda stared at me, open-mouthed. She was so lucky, I thought, because she had the perfect outfit, and her parents didn't make her wear some dorky sweater.
"My mother made me wear this, something to do with my grandmother." I rolled my eyes as the bus pulled up to the stop. Oh no, here it comes. Ridicule--my worst enemy--from every confidence deprived seventh grader seated on the bus.
"Does she know what she's got on?"
"I used to have a stuffed animal that looks like the one on her sweater!"
"I wonder if she remembered that it's picture day today?"
I could have cried. I walked into school with my head hung down. I was busy trying to find my way to my locker without having to actually look up when Miranda grabbed my arm and pointed straight ahead of us. Kate Sanders, our ex-bestfriend, stood there, one manicured hand on her purse strap and the other one facing us, fingers spread. "Oh. My. Gosh. I KNOW that you are NOT wearing MY outfit!" I took a closer look and realized that Kate and Miranda had on the same red shirt and zebra print skirt. And I thought my sweater was bad.
While Kate and Miranda duled it out, Gordo pulled me aside. "Look, I've got the soultion to your picture problem." He twirled the combonation lock on a top locker and pulled it open, and inside I saw my salvation. It held shirts, hair ties, headbands, everything that would give me a perfect picture without having to suffer through utter humuliation. I changed into a sleeveless, white, button up tee-shirt and got positive reactions from everyone. I shoved the sweater into the bottom of my backpack, planning to forget all about it.
The day came and went, 7th period and the picture sessions steadily coming up. All day Miranda recieved malicious looks from Kate, and we should have guessed that she was planning something evil and Kate-ish. Nothing happened, though, and I thought Miranda was getting off free until 6th period art. It started out as an innocent sit-there-and-act-like-we're-paying-attention type thing, when I noticed Kate whispering in Randall Croftman's ear. Now, Randall Croftman was the type of person to be Kate's stooge..which is exactly what he was. Grabbing a green paint can from the supply closet, he headed towards Miranda. I knew what he was going to do, and I risked my perfect picture outfit for my best friend. Before Randall had the chance to throw paint on Miranda, I jumped in front of the can and got paint splattered all over my white shirt, and, luckily enough, all over Kate.
Miranda's picture turned out great. I realized that my friends love me for who I am, not for what my picture looks like, so I took my picture covered in green paint and holding up my grandmother's sweater. Kate, of course, was infurated, and her picture turned out horrible, which was a victory on our part. I got grounded as soon as I walked into the door, but the lesson I learned was well worth it.
I saw the relfection of the door opening in the mirror. I turned and saw my father, who walked in. "Lizzie...I'm speechless. You're so grown up..." He looked like he had tears in his eyes. "Are you ready?" I swallowed, smoothed my hair, and nodded. My dad smiled at me and held out his hand. I took it and we walked out the door.
[A/N-Whee!]
I'm sitting here tonight, scared out of my mind, and all I can think about is when we were kids. The three of us--Gordo, Miranda, and I--were best friends through our school years. Gordo and I met when we were playing in a sand box. The little boy with curly hair and a Fisher Price camera threw sand at me. I called him stupid, hit him with a shovel, and then said, "My name is Elizabeth Sondra McGuire, and you can be my friend if you want."
"Well MY name is David Zephyr Gordon, but I like Gordo better. I'll be your friend." He smiled, and we've been best friends ever since. Miranda Sanchez moved when we were in the second grade, and we immediately befriended her. The three of us shared everything together, through the rest of elementary, then middle school, high school, and finally college. Now the two most important people are out there waiting for me, and I'm sitting here on a chair that's probably more expensive than my whole apartment, worrying if I'm going to trip and fall when I walk out the door.
I turn to look in the mirror and my mind flashes back to my 7th grade picture day.
"Mom! I can't find my top!" I frantically searched through my closet, searching for the outift I had picked out the night before. "MOM! It's picture day and I HAVE to wear this outfit!!!" I heard my mothers sandals come clacking up the stairs and her blonde head peeked through the door.
"Lizzie, I thought we agreed that you would wear the sweater that your grandmother made you!" She walked over to my closet and pulled out the most hideous article of clothing I own. She held it up, raised an eyebrow, and told me that my grandmother expected to get a copy of my school picture, me wearing this maroon sweater with a fluffy unicorn on the front. The frilly sleeves and collar almost made me puke.
"Mom, are you insane? I CANNOT, repeat, CANNOT wear this to school! Do you understand the importance of today? It's PICTURE DAY!" I stared at her in 13 year old disbelief--the sweater that my 87 year old grandmother knitted could wait until Christmas! She handed me the sweater and walked out of my bedroom, head held high.
Thirty minutes later I met Miranda and Gordo at the bus stop. They both shared the same look of disbelief that I had show my mother a half hour ago. "Uh...Lizzie...did you get dressed with your EYES closed this morning? Do you know WHAT you are wearing?" Miranda stared at me, open-mouthed. She was so lucky, I thought, because she had the perfect outfit, and her parents didn't make her wear some dorky sweater.
"My mother made me wear this, something to do with my grandmother." I rolled my eyes as the bus pulled up to the stop. Oh no, here it comes. Ridicule--my worst enemy--from every confidence deprived seventh grader seated on the bus.
"Does she know what she's got on?"
"I used to have a stuffed animal that looks like the one on her sweater!"
"I wonder if she remembered that it's picture day today?"
I could have cried. I walked into school with my head hung down. I was busy trying to find my way to my locker without having to actually look up when Miranda grabbed my arm and pointed straight ahead of us. Kate Sanders, our ex-bestfriend, stood there, one manicured hand on her purse strap and the other one facing us, fingers spread. "Oh. My. Gosh. I KNOW that you are NOT wearing MY outfit!" I took a closer look and realized that Kate and Miranda had on the same red shirt and zebra print skirt. And I thought my sweater was bad.
While Kate and Miranda duled it out, Gordo pulled me aside. "Look, I've got the soultion to your picture problem." He twirled the combonation lock on a top locker and pulled it open, and inside I saw my salvation. It held shirts, hair ties, headbands, everything that would give me a perfect picture without having to suffer through utter humuliation. I changed into a sleeveless, white, button up tee-shirt and got positive reactions from everyone. I shoved the sweater into the bottom of my backpack, planning to forget all about it.
The day came and went, 7th period and the picture sessions steadily coming up. All day Miranda recieved malicious looks from Kate, and we should have guessed that she was planning something evil and Kate-ish. Nothing happened, though, and I thought Miranda was getting off free until 6th period art. It started out as an innocent sit-there-and-act-like-we're-paying-attention type thing, when I noticed Kate whispering in Randall Croftman's ear. Now, Randall Croftman was the type of person to be Kate's stooge..which is exactly what he was. Grabbing a green paint can from the supply closet, he headed towards Miranda. I knew what he was going to do, and I risked my perfect picture outfit for my best friend. Before Randall had the chance to throw paint on Miranda, I jumped in front of the can and got paint splattered all over my white shirt, and, luckily enough, all over Kate.
Miranda's picture turned out great. I realized that my friends love me for who I am, not for what my picture looks like, so I took my picture covered in green paint and holding up my grandmother's sweater. Kate, of course, was infurated, and her picture turned out horrible, which was a victory on our part. I got grounded as soon as I walked into the door, but the lesson I learned was well worth it.
I saw the relfection of the door opening in the mirror. I turned and saw my father, who walked in. "Lizzie...I'm speechless. You're so grown up..." He looked like he had tears in his eyes. "Are you ready?" I swallowed, smoothed my hair, and nodded. My dad smiled at me and held out his hand. I took it and we walked out the door.
[A/N-Whee!]