[Disclaimer: I don't own "Lizzie McGuire", "The Lizzie McGuire Movie", Lizzie, Gordo, or Hilary Duff. I do own, however, this storyand, well
"And Adam L. saidnothing, you idiots, Adam L's hot and he's locked in my basement (Ha, ha!)"
Just kidding. And I only changed the word "dead" to "hot" because I could never kill a person with such fro-tastic hair.
Shut me up.
Onto the story]
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We arrived at Hotel Stendhal around 6:00 AM. Hotel Stendhalit sounds so Italian, doesn't it? (Watch us find out that Stendhal' really is Italian. Then I'll feel really dumb.)
On our way there, we passed by tons of important cultural landmarkslike the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon. Unlike everyone else, I had read the info packets. I knew what these things were. Unlike Lizzie, who just called it "that big fountain thingy over there".
Once we passed by the fountain, our hotel was only a mile or two away. By this time, everyone was bubbling around like hyperactive 5 year olds, delirious from the sight of things they never thought they'd see in their lifetimes.
And sure, I agreedto an extent. Rome was just another city to me. Even Kate, who went to Paris in 4th grade, was jumping around giddily once we exited the bus. Was there some memo that I didn't get that said we had to dance around whimsically to somehow prove our gratitude to Ms. Dew and the people of Rome? I didn't get it.
So everyone bounced into the hotel and in unison, paused themselves to gaze around in awe. The hotel's main foyer was a gigantic, lavishly decorated work of art. If it hadn't been for the 60 chit-chatting kids and one annoyed teacher, it would've been a truly serene place.
"Children, children! Let's be quiet, mmkay?" Ms. Dew yelled, her words trailing off and echoing in the large building. A gradual hush came over us, and for some reason, that's when I decided to start talking.
"This place is awesome," I whispered to Lizzie.
"Do you think they'll let us get room service?" she asked back.
Now, this was strange. Wasn't Lizzie usually the one who was amazed by everything, and I was the one who pretended not to care? This is like invasion of the body-snatchers. Exceptmore like invasion of the body-switchers. That didn't make much sense.
"Come, children, follow me," Ms. Dew announced, starting up the large staircase. All 40 of us followed her, trudging our way desperatelyespecially Lizzie, with her 40-pound backpack weighting her down. When we finally reached the the fourth floor, after what seemed like hours, the psycho spoke again. "We have rooms 400-430. And remember400 is mine. Nowgo and fetch your rooms!"
With that, we all ran like madmen towards those number rooms. A few of them had a porch overlooking the main foyer, but I didn't really want that. I'd feel like my privacy was being invaded
"Lizzie!" I yelled as we ran down the hallway together. "Where are we going?!"
"425!" she yelled back.
"Why 425?!"
"It's my lucky number!"
When we reached our destination, Lizzie collapsed in exhaustion outside the hotel room door. I joined her, falling next to her. Suddenly, the door across the hall opened to reveal Kate standing there with Ethan behind her.
"Excuse me, do you mind?" she said, jeering at us lying on the floor. "This is kind of a high-class place. I don't think the people of Rome appreciate you making a racquet at one of our their fanciest hotels." We both sat up simultaneously, and I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah," Ethan piped in enthusiastically. "Cause they don't even have tennis courts." Kate turned around at Ethan and looked at him funny.
"Ethanleave the insulting to me." She turned back to us. "Try to act civilized for once, guys" And the punch line "If you know how." She smiled deviously, turned on her heel and went back into seclusion until the next opportunity for our slandering arose.
"Why does she insist on destroying my life? I do all this nice stuff for her, but she keeps putting me down." She stared back with narrowed eyes at the closed door across from us. "One of these days, she's gonna get what's coming to her."
"Lizzie, really, if your planning Kate's demiseforget about it." She looked over at me, horrified. "If you make her look dumb in any waythen you're really no better than her." She sat there, pondering this. "Look, Kate's an annoying dirk. The day you become an annoying dirkis the day I die."
At this point, she got an enormous smirk on her face. Why did she always smirk like that at me? On one hand, it was annoying, but on another, it was almostcute. In a demented sort of way. I mean, the action itself was cutenot Lizzie. Though she didkind of. Of course, Lizzie was prettybut cute? That devilish glint in her eye was sort ofenticing.
Enticing? Lizzie? What am I talking about? Lizzie's my friend. Why do I keep thinking otherwise? She's my friend. F-R-I-E-N-D.
"Sooo, does that mean when I become an annoying dirk, you're going to commit suicide?" she laughed.
Yeah, probably,' my subconscious seemed to answer. No! No, I would not kill myself if I lost Lizzie, that'sthat's insane! My life did not revolve around Lizzie! I had my own dreams and aspirations And they all revolve around Lizzie.' No, they don't! I want to be a famous director one day! And you want Lizzie to be an actress so she can have the starring role.' No, I don't care who has the starring role! I want to direct! And you want Lizzie to come to your premiere party.' NO! I don't! I swear, I reallyI really
I really do.
"Well, Gordo?" she said, lying there and looking beautiful. "Would you?"
What could I say? Yes, Lizzie, I would die for you.'? This is too weird. I mean, Lizzie is just my friendand it just so happens that I think she's pretty and nice and funny and adorable and I want to spend the rest of my life with her.
Oh God. This is not happening.
"Listen, Lizzie," I said, starting to get up slowly. "II, uhI really" I panicked and hyperventilated. "I gotta go." And I bolted down the hallway.
This was crazy. I didn'tI mean, I couldn'tI wouldn't
~*~*~FLASHBACK~*~*~
It was only a few months ago. A brisk January night on which I set myself up for disaster.
Lizzie had an advice column in the E-Zine that I happened to be the editor for. And she was great at itpeople swarmed the "Dear Lizzie" section of our website. But one piece of advice she gave out didn't go over too welland she was about to quit. I wouldn't let her quit. Well, I would'veif I hadn't already had a plan.
So I told her, "Answer one more letter." And she went home that night to do so.
It was almost 8:00 and I was too nervous to even type anything. Could I really go through with this? What if she figured me out? This questions ran through my mind. But I clicked over towards Dear Lizzie' and saw that she had just deleted all the letters in the mailboxand none had been answered. So, with my hands convulsing, I clicked "Ask Lizzie" and began to shakily type my letter
"Dear LizzieI think I may like my best friend asmore than a friend. What should I do? SignedConfused Guy."
~*~*~END FLASHBACK~*~*~
Confused Guy. Yeah, that was me, alright. I cringed, remembering the moment in the doorway when I almost told her that I loved her. Oh, but instead, I choked out, "You give great advice."
If I had just told her then, things wouldn't be so complicated now. If I had just told her then, I'd be happy by now. But instead, I had to keep screwing everything up, being in denial about the whole thing.
And I slid down the hallway wall, confused and delirious.
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[A/N: =-O
That's all I have to say.
Lemme know what you think: please review. THANKS!]
