Together, we located gate C27 and sprinted towards it. We weren't in a hurry, but Lizzie thought it would be funny to confuse people who might be on the same flight, to make them think the plane was leaving right then. It worked on a couple of older bald men with briefcases.

"Ms. McGuire! Mr. Gordon! Please, no running!" Ms. Dew yelled to us, rather than at us.

Lizzie and I stopped in our tracks. Why was Ms. Dew here? No, no, Ms. Dew can't be here. She'sshe's weird. And I'm not being judgmental. Judging implies making references about a person before you actually know them. Believe me, I know Ms. Dew. It's not comforting knowing about a person's mental issues while they're teaching your English class. In fact, I knew about Ms. Dew before I ever met her---she was one of my mom's patients, and I vividly remember reading her case file over the summer before 6th grade.

We backed up slowly against a wall where she couldn't see us.

"Shhh," I whispered," don't move. Their vision is based on movement."

Lizzie stifled laughter before, from around the corner reached a hand, then an arm, then a complete weirdo–I mean body.

"Let's go, children," she said in her giddy voice and pushed us along over to the rest of the group.

I hate being pushed into groups of people. I hated tour groups for that reason. Instead of maintaining our unique individuality, we are assembled in our flocks, like cows anticipating their untimely slaughter, and then upbraided for forging our own path. Is this really what we should be teaching our children to do? I can still remember Lizzie's first communion, when they processed in. It looked nice and organized, but unknowingly, the parents and the teachers and the priest were all teaching their children to follow the crowd. Not that the procession was that bad of a thing. I sat with my parents, right next to the aisle in my pew, and when Lizzie, all decked out in white frill and pearls, passed by me, she flashed me a little smirk. That undeniable smirk that she only showed to me. That smirk that meant, "God, you're such a dork.but I still love you."

Love like how friends love each other, I mean. Like she cares a lot about me. And vice versa. She ticked me off (on occasion) but I couldn't see myself not being her friend. My imagination did not stretch far enough to try to imagine passing by Lizzie in the school corridors as if she were another nameless classmate of mine. She was always Lizzie McGuire, my best friend, and it was difficult to think otherwise.

"Yoohoo, Gordo, I'm up here," Lizzie whispered to me. "Gordo," she snapped. " I know my feet aren't that interesting."

When I woke from my deep 5 minute slumber, my eyes were subconsciously directed right towards her bright yellow sandals strapped loosely around her small feet.

"Yeah, well," I stuttered. "Just thinking here. Can't I just have a minute to think?" I said hotly. I can be an idiotic jerk, when I want to be.

"No need to get all touchy, Gordo," she said, slowly backing away. "Besides, I think you'll have plenty of time for thinking on the plane." She took her bag and flung it towards a chair. "Why are we standing, anyway? We've still got 15 minutes."

"Uh, Lizzie, 15 minutes isn't that long," I pointed out.

"Not that long?" she said, shocked. "15 minutes could make all the difference! No, I take it backa second could make all the difference. It's all about seizing the moment." She nodded affirmatively and smiled proudly at me before her face quickly turned sour. "Okay, that sounded like something you'd say."

"What's so bad about that?" I said in my defense, even though I knew I was just setting myself up for ridicule.

"Nothing," she squeaked out, still holding back laughter as she sat down on one of the stiff black leather chairs. When I took a seat next to her, she grimaced. So I shot her back a Why not?' look. "Listen, Gordo, I know you want to be Mr. Superfriend here, but" She sighed under her breath. "I need a few minutes to myself. Then we can talk however long you want on the plane."

"Oh," I responded dumbly. "O-okay." Without another word, I picked myself and moved to a chair far, far away.

Was it terribly selfish of me to feel this way? I mean, I constantly asked Lizzie for a little space, a little privacy, a little time to myself. And now she asks for the same in return, and I agree with loads of reluctance hovering over my head. I felt the familiar sting of rejection in my skin. Was that what it felt like whenever I told her to go away? First, the self-consciousness kicks in, followed by depression, and topping it off with a great deal of resentment towards the person who rejected you. Is that the secret that Lizzie seemed to have been hiding from me recently? That she hated my guts and I could rot in the depths of hell for all she cared? If this was the case, she was an extremely good actress. Believable, too.

No, Lizzie doesn't hate me. I guess I'm just not used to this "new Lizzie". She used to be so shy, so conforming, so wary of other people's thoughts. Now she was, in fact, more confident, more willing to stand out in a crowd, and essentially, deeper. She had a little more depth than I gave her credit for. Maybe she, too, was trying to sort out her feelings before leaving for Rome.

I chuckled nervously. If that's what she's doing, then why is it taking her so long? How difficult was it to sort out your feelings for a friend? Unless you kinda

"Flight 121 now boarding at terminal C27, rows 1-10," the PA system screeched. "Rows 1-10, flight 121." Fifteen minutes already? I'd barely begun to even think of any specifics.

"Come along, children, it's time to board!" Ms. Dew said, happily, ushering them through the line. At that moment, Lizzie joined up with me, smiling.

But it couldn't help feeling like a cat being plunged into water. I wasn't ready for what was to come, but it had to be done, eventually.

"Have a nice flight," the ticketlady said to us.

I gulped.

I'll try.

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[A/N: Woo! I finished! I feel so accomplished. Or something. I really wanted to see "Anger Management" tonight but my stupid friendargh. Anywho, I love this story and I really need to speed it up, heh.

Lemme know what you think: please review. Thanks!]