A/N: Hey all! Thanks for all the reviews. I know that last chapter was a
bit of- okay I LOT of a cliffhanger but it was good to see you all on the
edge of your seats *evil laugh* sorry, I was just following the plan.
Anywho, I'm glad there's so many people who enjoy this fanfic, I'm enjoying
writing it, so it's win win for all! Right, on with the legal disclaimer,
blah blah I don't own Lizzie McGuire, You've Got Mail or any brand names
mentioned herein, blah blah, cheers to all my fans!
Gordo leaned back in his chair. It was done now. Some random girl from nowhere knew his true feelings for Lizzie but she had no idea who he really was, so it didn't matter. He could put a big metaphorical rubber stamp printing 'case closed' on the whole debacle. He sat, tight lipped and quiet. There was no need to get emotional. In fact, there was no need for anything. It was a disaster from the start. He almost lost Lizzie as a friend - didn't he?
'What if- NO GORDON! Do NOT start with that line of thinking. That's what got us in this mess in the first place,' he said within his mind.
It was pretty spectacular up there in Gordo's head. A constant authority, running issues over and over, non-stop, arguing this side of the matter and the other. It was the place that gave birth to many a great plan and also the place which held Lizzie in the greatest of respects- or was that his heart?
'Stop that! Cut that stuff out!' he thought to himself once more. His decision was final. There would be no talk of having any sort of relationship, other than the friendship they already had. That was it. It was just a friendship. Nothing more, nothing less.
He sighed heavily and rose from the chair, "right what's on the agenda for today?" he asked aloud, looking over at his calendar.
There was a small scribble of writing a few days ahead, not his handwriting, perhaps his mother's. He hated that. It was his calendar, yet his mother felt the need to leave little reminders on it for him.
Apart from the small scribble there was nothing anywhere near that current day. He was disappointed. Had he something to do, it may have taken other 'things' off his mind. At least there would be no need to see Lizzie. That would make things worse and more uncomfortable.
"David!" came a call from downstairs. It was his mother.
"Coming mom, just let me get decent," he yelled.
Gordo looked around his room for clothing. He was a tidy and organized person in every area except clothing. Clothing was his flaw. It wasn't that he didn't care for it, far from it. He just did not take the same level of care for his clothes that he did with other items or matters. Hence, there were shirts and sweaters laid around the room in haphazard ways. There wasn't a huge amount of clothing not packed away neatly. Just noticeable articles here and there.
He picked up some casual pieces and dressed himself to that distinctly fashion. Everything was a bit loose. He brushed his hair erratically to the level of his liking and walked out of his room, hopping down the stairs and landing at the entrance to the Gordon residence.
To his surprise, his parents were dressed, very formally, a signal to Gordo.
"What's happening at work?" he asked, slouching suddenly.
"David, we have a patient who needs our assistance urgently. I know you've done all your work so we've arranged for you to go to Lizzie's for the rest of the day-" his mother said and as she finished, she was immediately interrupted by Gordo.
Gordo's eyes bulged, "you what?" he said monotonously.
"We've arranged for you to stay with the McGuire's for the day- we assumed you'd go anyway, so we just confirmed everything was good with Sam and Jo," his mother continued.
"N- well- you see, I," Gordo stuttered, trying to explain.
"David, listen to your mother, we've business and that's that. We'll pick you up later tonight," his father declared firmly.
"But you don't understand," Gordo pleaded.
"Oh, there's money on the counter," his mother called as the pair walked hurriedly out the door.
Gordo stared at the closed door for a moment, completely stunned. This was going to be a day of testing. Even though it was not at all going to be easy- rather, it was going to be extraordinarily difficult.
'Perhaps if I just squash all my feelings back down in some dark part of my mind that I never go to- maybe then it'll be just another day,' he thought, forcing a smile for good measure.
"Do better than that Gordon, I know you can. Come on, we've gotten through several years like this, what's another few years?" he asked aloud, unknowingly convincing himself with hand movements, which fell to his said at the conclusion of his speaking.
He turned into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of toast which had been left in the toaster, obviously for one of his parents, whomever it was did not matter, he had already taken bite. Gordo wasn't one for spreads and so he did not bother searching through the cupboards for one. And had he felt the need for a spread, he would not be able to decide which to use. Hence not so long ago, he had come to the conclusion that he would not trouble himself with the task of choosing spreads in the mornings or during a snack.
He finished the toast and grabbed the notes that had been left on the counter, not far from the toaster, shoving them deep in his pockets. He guessed that there might have been twenty or so dollars there, definitely enough for the day.
The keys were where they always were, hanging on the hooks adjacent to the cutlery stand. He lifted the front door key and held it tight all the way to the front door. His parents were well-organized people and he knew that the windows and back door were already locked, so he did not inconvenience himself with checking the few locks around the house.
He walked out the door and pulled it behind him, systematically shoving the key in the top lock and twisting his wrist the right, locking the door. He withdrew the key and dropped it in one of his pockets, not caring which one really. He was more concerned with the day ahead.
It was fairly gloomy. The rain clouds had hung around. Gordo hadn't seen the forecast for that day and probably should have. The clouds darkened again and Gordo knew all too well what that meant.
Lizzie's house wasn't very far, but he'd be well and truly wet by the time he got there. He sighed and shook his head. It was going to be one of 'those' days.
Gordo leaned back in his chair. It was done now. Some random girl from nowhere knew his true feelings for Lizzie but she had no idea who he really was, so it didn't matter. He could put a big metaphorical rubber stamp printing 'case closed' on the whole debacle. He sat, tight lipped and quiet. There was no need to get emotional. In fact, there was no need for anything. It was a disaster from the start. He almost lost Lizzie as a friend - didn't he?
'What if- NO GORDON! Do NOT start with that line of thinking. That's what got us in this mess in the first place,' he said within his mind.
It was pretty spectacular up there in Gordo's head. A constant authority, running issues over and over, non-stop, arguing this side of the matter and the other. It was the place that gave birth to many a great plan and also the place which held Lizzie in the greatest of respects- or was that his heart?
'Stop that! Cut that stuff out!' he thought to himself once more. His decision was final. There would be no talk of having any sort of relationship, other than the friendship they already had. That was it. It was just a friendship. Nothing more, nothing less.
He sighed heavily and rose from the chair, "right what's on the agenda for today?" he asked aloud, looking over at his calendar.
There was a small scribble of writing a few days ahead, not his handwriting, perhaps his mother's. He hated that. It was his calendar, yet his mother felt the need to leave little reminders on it for him.
Apart from the small scribble there was nothing anywhere near that current day. He was disappointed. Had he something to do, it may have taken other 'things' off his mind. At least there would be no need to see Lizzie. That would make things worse and more uncomfortable.
"David!" came a call from downstairs. It was his mother.
"Coming mom, just let me get decent," he yelled.
Gordo looked around his room for clothing. He was a tidy and organized person in every area except clothing. Clothing was his flaw. It wasn't that he didn't care for it, far from it. He just did not take the same level of care for his clothes that he did with other items or matters. Hence, there were shirts and sweaters laid around the room in haphazard ways. There wasn't a huge amount of clothing not packed away neatly. Just noticeable articles here and there.
He picked up some casual pieces and dressed himself to that distinctly fashion. Everything was a bit loose. He brushed his hair erratically to the level of his liking and walked out of his room, hopping down the stairs and landing at the entrance to the Gordon residence.
To his surprise, his parents were dressed, very formally, a signal to Gordo.
"What's happening at work?" he asked, slouching suddenly.
"David, we have a patient who needs our assistance urgently. I know you've done all your work so we've arranged for you to go to Lizzie's for the rest of the day-" his mother said and as she finished, she was immediately interrupted by Gordo.
Gordo's eyes bulged, "you what?" he said monotonously.
"We've arranged for you to stay with the McGuire's for the day- we assumed you'd go anyway, so we just confirmed everything was good with Sam and Jo," his mother continued.
"N- well- you see, I," Gordo stuttered, trying to explain.
"David, listen to your mother, we've business and that's that. We'll pick you up later tonight," his father declared firmly.
"But you don't understand," Gordo pleaded.
"Oh, there's money on the counter," his mother called as the pair walked hurriedly out the door.
Gordo stared at the closed door for a moment, completely stunned. This was going to be a day of testing. Even though it was not at all going to be easy- rather, it was going to be extraordinarily difficult.
'Perhaps if I just squash all my feelings back down in some dark part of my mind that I never go to- maybe then it'll be just another day,' he thought, forcing a smile for good measure.
"Do better than that Gordon, I know you can. Come on, we've gotten through several years like this, what's another few years?" he asked aloud, unknowingly convincing himself with hand movements, which fell to his said at the conclusion of his speaking.
He turned into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of toast which had been left in the toaster, obviously for one of his parents, whomever it was did not matter, he had already taken bite. Gordo wasn't one for spreads and so he did not bother searching through the cupboards for one. And had he felt the need for a spread, he would not be able to decide which to use. Hence not so long ago, he had come to the conclusion that he would not trouble himself with the task of choosing spreads in the mornings or during a snack.
He finished the toast and grabbed the notes that had been left on the counter, not far from the toaster, shoving them deep in his pockets. He guessed that there might have been twenty or so dollars there, definitely enough for the day.
The keys were where they always were, hanging on the hooks adjacent to the cutlery stand. He lifted the front door key and held it tight all the way to the front door. His parents were well-organized people and he knew that the windows and back door were already locked, so he did not inconvenience himself with checking the few locks around the house.
He walked out the door and pulled it behind him, systematically shoving the key in the top lock and twisting his wrist the right, locking the door. He withdrew the key and dropped it in one of his pockets, not caring which one really. He was more concerned with the day ahead.
It was fairly gloomy. The rain clouds had hung around. Gordo hadn't seen the forecast for that day and probably should have. The clouds darkened again and Gordo knew all too well what that meant.
Lizzie's house wasn't very far, but he'd be well and truly wet by the time he got there. He sighed and shook his head. It was going to be one of 'those' days.