I'd gotten used to the feeling. Feeling unloved by my own parents and not fully understanding the meaning of the words quality time. They supported my individuality and independence right out the door. Perhaps I was sent into this world as a tax write-off, and when my parents realized that it was a little more complicated than they expected, they decided against having any more children.

At any rate, I envied Lizzie. I envied her supportive, advice-bearing parents, the family togetherness, even the stupid sibling rivalry between her and Matt. Call me selfish, but she had something I didn't, and my natural competitive side sent me vying for my parents' affections, only to be dismissed over a pile of paperwork that neared completion. Even little acts of selflessness baffled me...

~*~*FLASHBACK*~*~

Grubby Longjohn's Olde Tymeeee Revue begins in 5 minutes! So head awn down! the owner of the park said with his thick Western dialect over the loudspeaker.

Lizzie started to walk reluctantly out the door.

Lizzie, w-where are you going? a confused Cory asked.

She looked down and nodded, knowing that he would eventually ask.

I'm sorry, Cory. Please, don't get me wrong about this. You're a really cool guy and all, but... She sighed. My family's out there seeing that revue without me. And I may never have a chance to come back to this place again. Turning to Gordo and Miranda, she said, You guys can go on without me. My family needs me.

And like a superhero, she sped out the door in a flash.

~*~*END FLASHBACK*~*~

I never had to choose between family and friends. My friends were my family. Without Lizzie, Miranda, and their families, I don't know where I'd be. Probably lost in an ocean of teenage angst and rage.

No words were spoken between the time we left in the McGuires' SUV at 6:00 AM and the time we arrived at Los Angles International Airport at approximately 6:42 AM. I can't believe myself, but I actually left my CD case at home. My CDs, my music...the one thing that always made me happy was going to be left in grand old Hillridge while I was thousands of miles away. In Rome. in Europe.

So I borrowed Lizzie's CD case. Her collection was worse than I expected, but still not quite as pop-infused as it seemed to be 3 years ago. More of what Rolling Stone would label pop rock: John Mayer, Michelle Branch, Pink, Good Charlotte. I was flipping through the pages when one seemed to pop out at me.

incubus? Since when did Lizzie like Incubus? They seemed far too deep for her liking. There I go again. If she knew how much I degrade her in my mind, she'd probably shove me down a flight of stairs, and then hate me forever. That is, if i didn't die from the fall. (I'm not that resilient.) Why did I underestimate her so? I had no reason to. I think she overrates me all too often. I'm not some cold-blooded, robotic superhuman with intellect and nothing more. Maybe that's why she never notices my little clues.

Little clues to what, you ask?

There's no sense in beating around the bush, but saying it plainly would be blatantly lying. Not lies, per se, but half-truths. The indefinite truth. Like a theory. Until I find cold, hard evidence to support my theory, I can't risk the error. And if my partially-correct theory should slip from my mouth? Panic attack. Hyperventilation. Havoc in its purest form. Not a pretty sight.

Need some help with your backpack? I asked Lizzie politely. We were trudging our way slowly through the wide corridors of the airport, and she looked like she was tilt over backwards at any second.

Gordo, we're not 8 anymore. I can carry my own backpack. I'm just as strong as you, she said, struggling to keep the 20 pound bag on her shoulder. If not stronger, she added with a slight smirk.

As much as I resented that last comment, I brushed it off, like no big deal. I knew I was short and kinda scrawny. Who didn't know I was short? But it wasn't until Parker McKenzie rejected me for that reason that people began to know me more for my height than for my intellectual ability. Even after she realized all she had given up just for a date with a tall (but too bright) guy...Ethan.

Well, I just wanted to remind you that chivalry isn't dead, I said matter-of-factly. Then, Lizzie did something that wasn't a very Lizzie-like thing to do. She mumbled something under her breath. I heard something about chivalry, but nothing more.

I asked, in hopes she'd repeat herself.

she muttered despondently. What was with the sudden change in her personality? Last night, she couldn't wait for this trip. Now she looks like she wants to crawl into bed and hibernate for a while. Cranky, maybe? I knew I was. But no one, I tell you, no one should be subjected to that sort of torture. Waking someone up at 4:30 AM. Does this not constitute as cruel and unusual punishment? It's simply un-American.

Back to the point, I hadn't a clue what she had said. Would I ever figure it out? Even an interpreter couldn't begin to translate that mumbo jumbo.

Then again, there were a lot of things I didn't understand.

And that old theory of mine could never be proved or disproved until I understood. Until I knew how she felt. More important, until I knew how I felt.

Until my questions were answered.

-------------------------

[A/N: Man, I heart this story! I'm striving to finish this before May 2nd. Because that's when I'm gonna see the movie and if I see the movie, I might subconsciously copy off of the movie. And that'd be BAD. B-A-D, BAD!

I know things are moving at about .00005/mph in the story right now, but I'm trying to let you get a feel for Gordo, his thoughts, and what he's dealing with. Because it's not exactly the same as it is in most stories.

In most stories (even my own ), Gordo's already fully aware of his feelings for Lizzie. In this story, he's just no sure yet. And that's part of the struggle.

Wow, overanalyzing is so much fun!!

I know I said I was gonna update TGHJHR tonight, but things got crazy and I meant to change the schedule and my mom deleted my AOL s/n and oyyy, psychoticness.

Anyway, I'm leaving for North Carolina tonight. We're only going there for a day just to check some stuff out. I'm gonna have plenty of time in those 16 hours (round-trip) in that dang car. And even better? Neither of my brothers are home. (One goes to college in California....USC, to be exact...and the other's in Paris, France on a school trip). So I'll get the whole 2 backseats allll to myself. Rock on. I gotta go pack my laptop (when I'm done with it), my iPod, my CD player, my magazines, my Gameboy, and all that good stuff. Booyah.

Lemme know what you bez thinking: please review. Thanks!]