A/N: Hey all, here's another installment =) Thanks to all who have
reviewed and all who've taken the time to read the narrative. It's good to
have the support =) and yeah, I haven't suddenly bought Disney or anything
so I don't own Lizzie McGuire, You've Got Mail and other brands, so on and
so forth.
Gordo sat at his regular English class desk, which was located right next to the window. This room was fairly different to the other classes; it was in a tier arrangement, with three levels. One at the back, one in the middle, one at the front and then the ground level. It used to be the old music room and hence the room had been assembled to carry such a class. This was Gordo's favourite room. It was fairly state of the art, with a few computers on the far right of the room, available for some students to type on if the need arose. Individual desks were otherwise distributed for each student. The lesson had been somewhat routine. More reading of the prescribed text and more questions to answer.
Lizzie sat in her typical position not far from Gordo, only two desks diagonally from him on the front tier, while Gordo sat on the middle tier. Surprisingly, they had not spoken much. Of course, their last meeting at the Digital Bean had been quite productive. They drank and entertained themselves in their usual way.
Gordo stared momentarily out the window, hoping that it wouldn't rain again but it looked inevitable. Those familiar grey clouds, hovering over the school and the path to his home. He groaned.
"Mr. Gordon, is there something wrong with that question?" Mr. Dig, their substitute teacher had asked.
"Ah no, I was just- no nothing," Gordo replied, unaware that he had been drifting away from class into his own little reality.
As Gordo had focused his attention towards the front of the room and Mr. Dig mainly, Lizzie had turned slightly to look up at him and give him a reassuring gaze. He smiled back motioned that he was working. She nodded.
He liked that about her. That ability she had to sense or understand what he was saying even when he wasn't saying anything at all. In fact, with that knowledge in mind he felt that was the best way to tell her how he really felt about her.
'What better way to tell her than to let her know by giving her signals, little signs, that there was more to how I felt about her, than just as another friend,' he had thought those few months before.
It was truly easier said or rather thought than done. Lizzie was either completely oblivious to how Gordo felt about her or did not feel the same way. It hurt him either way. He was so sure that she could sense what he was thinking, that they were always on the same wavelength.
'Maybe I'm being too subtle. Maybe she knows but doesn't know what to make of it all. Maybe-' there were millions of possibilities springing in to draw a conclusion, inside his head but which was the right one? Only one person really knew- Lizzie.
Mr. Dig was standing in front of Gordo's desk, staring down at his book and smiling, "well Gordo, let's see what you've got," he said and was truly stunned by Gordo's book. It wasn't blank and it wasn't incorrect either, it was- Lizzie. Her name was- everywhere. Gordo hadn't realized but he had been inadvertently writing his thoughts on the page and they were all there. Her name written over and over again.
"Gordo," Mr. Dig whispered quietly, so not as to attract any attention of the other students, "is there something troubling you?"
"No," Gordo snapped, pulling the book down and slamming it shut. Many of the students turned their heads at this moment to watch. It was instinctive - human nature almost - to want to watch conflict. Watching a teacher versus student scenario was always welcomed.
To everyone's surprise, nothing happened. Mr. Dig backed down and bowed slightly, mumbling something only Gordo could hear, "up to you then," he had said and walked away.
'Why is it that I feel the only person who can help me is someone I don't want to face?' he asked himself. At that moment he knew what he had to do.
Class continued for the remaining fifteen or so minutes, uneventfully. Mr. Dig and all the other students had left the room, all except for Gordo that was, who sat at a computer, typing quickly and vigorously. He still had no idea as to why he felt the need to email this completely total stranger who had not so many days ago been insulting him. It seemed to him that there was no one else to turn to. What had he to lose by approaching this person without having to reveal who he was and telling them his troubles.
Conveniently, there had already been another email that she had sent to him in reply to the first. She had allowed giving him help on the condition that he helped her.
'What have I to give, when I can barely help myself?' he thought, but it did not matter because she had already told him in the email that she was in a fairly similar situation of not being able to provide herself with the answers.
Gordo typed out the picture, articulating the story with that typical Gordo touch. That balance between emotions, passion and intellect. He explained to the stranger known only as 'Sleeping_Beauty' his dilemma, his life and his want to overcome it all.
He was almost complete when none other than Larry Tudgeman waltzed into the room without knocking. That was one of those small insignificant things that really got him going, that and when people didn't close doors after themselves.
"Gordster, what's doin'?" he bellowed.
"Err- nothing Tudgeman, just sending an email to my- parents," Gordo lied, quite convinced it would work.
"Oh, usual stuff eh? Thought you might have been sending something 'special'," Larry teased, unaware of how close to the truth he was.
"No, nothing of the sort Tudgeman," Gordo continued, suddenly quite apprehensive about his presence. It wasn't that he cared what Tudgeman thought; it was more that he felt this to be a private issue and hence none of his business really.
"I was just passing through Jedi-style anyway, you know, just cruising around, hunting danger down," Larry said, rolling a ruler around in his wrists much in the fashion of a light-saber.
"Err- right, sure you were," Gordo patronized, screwing his face slightly and quickly sending the email, without checking it over. He didn't want to adjust it. The letter had all the facts, all the details and reading it would have caused him to redo the whole thing, most likely.
Tudgeman left the room, still swinging his ruler and imitating the sounds of a light-saber. Gordo felt that he was the only person who really understood Tudgeman in the whole school, despite their complete opposite end of the spectrum ideals. Tudgeman was everything Gordo was not and vice versa. Yet, he still felt he knew and understood what Tudgeman was always on about.
"Perhaps it is the opposites that attract," he muttered aloud. Where had he read that?
And then it him- that random girl. The one he had asked for help. She was his total opposite almost and he remembered commenting about it in his last email to her.
'Opposites attract- maybe I'm looking in the wrong place,' he thought, 'maybe I shouldn't be chasing Lizzie after all, maybe I should be searching for my opposite, my other half'.
He sat, quite stunned by his own revelation. Now he was confused. Where was he going? What was all this for?
Gordo sat at his regular English class desk, which was located right next to the window. This room was fairly different to the other classes; it was in a tier arrangement, with three levels. One at the back, one in the middle, one at the front and then the ground level. It used to be the old music room and hence the room had been assembled to carry such a class. This was Gordo's favourite room. It was fairly state of the art, with a few computers on the far right of the room, available for some students to type on if the need arose. Individual desks were otherwise distributed for each student. The lesson had been somewhat routine. More reading of the prescribed text and more questions to answer.
Lizzie sat in her typical position not far from Gordo, only two desks diagonally from him on the front tier, while Gordo sat on the middle tier. Surprisingly, they had not spoken much. Of course, their last meeting at the Digital Bean had been quite productive. They drank and entertained themselves in their usual way.
Gordo stared momentarily out the window, hoping that it wouldn't rain again but it looked inevitable. Those familiar grey clouds, hovering over the school and the path to his home. He groaned.
"Mr. Gordon, is there something wrong with that question?" Mr. Dig, their substitute teacher had asked.
"Ah no, I was just- no nothing," Gordo replied, unaware that he had been drifting away from class into his own little reality.
As Gordo had focused his attention towards the front of the room and Mr. Dig mainly, Lizzie had turned slightly to look up at him and give him a reassuring gaze. He smiled back motioned that he was working. She nodded.
He liked that about her. That ability she had to sense or understand what he was saying even when he wasn't saying anything at all. In fact, with that knowledge in mind he felt that was the best way to tell her how he really felt about her.
'What better way to tell her than to let her know by giving her signals, little signs, that there was more to how I felt about her, than just as another friend,' he had thought those few months before.
It was truly easier said or rather thought than done. Lizzie was either completely oblivious to how Gordo felt about her or did not feel the same way. It hurt him either way. He was so sure that she could sense what he was thinking, that they were always on the same wavelength.
'Maybe I'm being too subtle. Maybe she knows but doesn't know what to make of it all. Maybe-' there were millions of possibilities springing in to draw a conclusion, inside his head but which was the right one? Only one person really knew- Lizzie.
Mr. Dig was standing in front of Gordo's desk, staring down at his book and smiling, "well Gordo, let's see what you've got," he said and was truly stunned by Gordo's book. It wasn't blank and it wasn't incorrect either, it was- Lizzie. Her name was- everywhere. Gordo hadn't realized but he had been inadvertently writing his thoughts on the page and they were all there. Her name written over and over again.
"Gordo," Mr. Dig whispered quietly, so not as to attract any attention of the other students, "is there something troubling you?"
"No," Gordo snapped, pulling the book down and slamming it shut. Many of the students turned their heads at this moment to watch. It was instinctive - human nature almost - to want to watch conflict. Watching a teacher versus student scenario was always welcomed.
To everyone's surprise, nothing happened. Mr. Dig backed down and bowed slightly, mumbling something only Gordo could hear, "up to you then," he had said and walked away.
'Why is it that I feel the only person who can help me is someone I don't want to face?' he asked himself. At that moment he knew what he had to do.
Class continued for the remaining fifteen or so minutes, uneventfully. Mr. Dig and all the other students had left the room, all except for Gordo that was, who sat at a computer, typing quickly and vigorously. He still had no idea as to why he felt the need to email this completely total stranger who had not so many days ago been insulting him. It seemed to him that there was no one else to turn to. What had he to lose by approaching this person without having to reveal who he was and telling them his troubles.
Conveniently, there had already been another email that she had sent to him in reply to the first. She had allowed giving him help on the condition that he helped her.
'What have I to give, when I can barely help myself?' he thought, but it did not matter because she had already told him in the email that she was in a fairly similar situation of not being able to provide herself with the answers.
Gordo typed out the picture, articulating the story with that typical Gordo touch. That balance between emotions, passion and intellect. He explained to the stranger known only as 'Sleeping_Beauty' his dilemma, his life and his want to overcome it all.
He was almost complete when none other than Larry Tudgeman waltzed into the room without knocking. That was one of those small insignificant things that really got him going, that and when people didn't close doors after themselves.
"Gordster, what's doin'?" he bellowed.
"Err- nothing Tudgeman, just sending an email to my- parents," Gordo lied, quite convinced it would work.
"Oh, usual stuff eh? Thought you might have been sending something 'special'," Larry teased, unaware of how close to the truth he was.
"No, nothing of the sort Tudgeman," Gordo continued, suddenly quite apprehensive about his presence. It wasn't that he cared what Tudgeman thought; it was more that he felt this to be a private issue and hence none of his business really.
"I was just passing through Jedi-style anyway, you know, just cruising around, hunting danger down," Larry said, rolling a ruler around in his wrists much in the fashion of a light-saber.
"Err- right, sure you were," Gordo patronized, screwing his face slightly and quickly sending the email, without checking it over. He didn't want to adjust it. The letter had all the facts, all the details and reading it would have caused him to redo the whole thing, most likely.
Tudgeman left the room, still swinging his ruler and imitating the sounds of a light-saber. Gordo felt that he was the only person who really understood Tudgeman in the whole school, despite their complete opposite end of the spectrum ideals. Tudgeman was everything Gordo was not and vice versa. Yet, he still felt he knew and understood what Tudgeman was always on about.
"Perhaps it is the opposites that attract," he muttered aloud. Where had he read that?
And then it him- that random girl. The one he had asked for help. She was his total opposite almost and he remembered commenting about it in his last email to her.
'Opposites attract- maybe I'm looking in the wrong place,' he thought, 'maybe I shouldn't be chasing Lizzie after all, maybe I should be searching for my opposite, my other half'.
He sat, quite stunned by his own revelation. Now he was confused. Where was he going? What was all this for?