Disclaimer: I own nada. No characters in this one at all. I might add small one line characters later, but for now…
A/N: Okay, I'm sorry about To The One Who Was There All Along, but for now, it's going on hiatus. Well, that's not entirely true. It's just not going to be updated *regularly* for a while. I will finish it, just be patient, please.
A/N 2: I have read the book of the Lizzie McGuire Movie (I just HAD to know about Lizzie and Gordo) so I pretty much know the plot. So I've decided to take the stand that another Lizzie McGuire fan fiction writer took and steer clear of "later that summer…" fics for fear of giving something away. So this story takes place the summer of their sophomore year, and as if they didn't go to Rome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I talked to you the other day.
Looks like you've made your escape.
You put us behind, no matter how I try
I can't do the same."
-Faith Hill, Let Me Let Go
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He promised he'd come back.
I stared at the photo dejectedly, ran my fingers across his face. So many times on the phone, through e-mail, he'd assured me that his return was imminent. That I simply had to be patient.
"Lizzie," he'd last written, "I know how you feel. It's hard not talking to my best friend for weeks at a time, but you've got to understand. This high school… It's all I ever wanted. They focus on directing, film, everything that pertains to ME."
I understood, or if I didn't, I could pretend. After all, I was the only one who seemed to have a problem with his abrupt decision to attend a year of high school in New York. Well, it was supposed to be a year. Now it was the summer after 10th grade and there was still no real word on when he'd come back. He kept saying, "Soon."
Of course, he'd said that last year too.
"Why?!" I yelled aloud, now.
The silence of my room mocked me. Miranda was in Mexico visiting family as had become a Sanchez tradition. I knew she felt bad leaving me, especially over the last two years, with Gordo gone.
"It's alright," I had assured her, for the second year in a row. "Go, have fun. Who knows, this may be the year he comes back."
She had nodded, but we both knew she didn't believe it. She almost never received anything from him anymore-just a card on her birthday. Even so, she didn't feel the loss I did. After all, for her, he was just a friend. For me he'd been something more for a while now.
And silly, ridiculous me. I thought he'd felt it to. Shows how much I knew. After all, if he cared about me the way I cared about him… Certainly he would have stayed. God knows, I couldn't have ever left him. I could still remember the phone call, his voice gentle in my ear.
"Hey, Lizzie," he'd greeted.
I'd smiled. "Hey."
"Listen, I have some news…"
His voice had trailed away, and something inside me had seemed to close up, my heart darkened in fear. Somehow I knew. And when he'd uttered the words, "I have this opportunity… Lizzie, I can't give it up," something inside me died.
I'd wanted to beg him to stay, but I couldn't. I'd loved him enough to step aside, to honestly want him to be happy.
"Lizzie," my mom called to me from downstairs.
I pounded down the steps and approached her. "Yeah?"
"Come into the kitchen, honey. We're having family meeting."
I did as requested, and slid into a seat across from my dad. I ignored the faces Matt was shooting in my direction and waited.
"Lizzie, we know that you have been having some trouble over these last couple of summers without Miranda and Gordo-"
I cut her off. "He's coming back."
She nodded quickly. "Right. I know. But he's not here NOW. Anyway, your father and I were thinking that maybe you would want to fly out to Mexico and just spend the rest of the summer with Miranda."
I leapt to my feet. "Oh, mom, really?!"
She smiled and shared a look with my dad who added, "If you want to go, get packing. We're dropping you off at the airport in two hours."
I was up the stairs just like that, and swiftly, I piled all my clothes into a suitcase. Finally, a summer that didn't leave me thinking nonstop about Gordo. And if he got back while I was away… Oh well. He could stand to wait for a while.
***
The airport was buzzing with people when we stepped inside. Excitement coursed through my veins for the first time, it seemed, in two full years.
(A/N: Okay, I have been on exactly 4 planes, and to be honest, the airports are a kind of blur. So be patient with the lack of description, please.)
I glanced around, then back at my parents. "You can't come in?" I found myself asking. Sixteen years old and I still couldn't go far without holding my parents' hands.
My mom shook her head. "Airport security and all that." She looked like she was going to cry, and so I wrapped in her in a hug and held her tight.
"I'll be fine," I whispered. "And I want you both to know," I added, drawing away, "how much this really means to me. Honestly, this is exactly what I need."
Matt rolled his eyes.
"Call us when you get there," my dad added.
I nodded in confirmation and with one last, "I love you!" they were gone.
The boarding didn't take long, and just like that I was on the plane. Somehow I lucked out with a window seat and I spend the long flight just staring outside. When we landed and I stepped back into an airport, I pulled at my ticket and read the information. My connecting flight gate wasn't too far off, so, carry-on in hand, I started on my way.
A loud clap of thunder froze me in my spot and I shot a look outside through one of the airport windows. It wasn't raining, but I blinked in surprise and mild fear as a bolt of lightening lit up the room.
A screen naming the flights was a few feet away so I, with about 15 other people, approached it quickly. All down the list, flights were delayed. I swallowed a moan and trudged to my gate waiting area.
I was stuck in the O'Hare airport, alone for who knew how long? Immediately, I pulled out my cell and called my parents. They took it fairly well, and insisted I update them the minute I knew anything. I would, of course, but it didn't look like anyone was going to be forthcoming with information.
"Do you think it's going to be more than an hour," I asked a nearby attendant.
She smiled sympathetically. "I was just told that the wait will be at least that long. I'm sorry."
I nodded and, with a smothered sigh, began looking around for an eatery. When my eyes rested on Cinnabon, I allowed myself a brief feeling of relief.
The person in front of me gave their order in a deep masculine voice. "Just a coffee, please," he requested.
And I suddenly couldn't feel my legs.
"Gordo?"
A/N: Okay, I'm sorry about To The One Who Was There All Along, but for now, it's going on hiatus. Well, that's not entirely true. It's just not going to be updated *regularly* for a while. I will finish it, just be patient, please.
A/N 2: I have read the book of the Lizzie McGuire Movie (I just HAD to know about Lizzie and Gordo) so I pretty much know the plot. So I've decided to take the stand that another Lizzie McGuire fan fiction writer took and steer clear of "later that summer…" fics for fear of giving something away. So this story takes place the summer of their sophomore year, and as if they didn't go to Rome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I talked to you the other day.
Looks like you've made your escape.
You put us behind, no matter how I try
I can't do the same."
-Faith Hill, Let Me Let Go
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He promised he'd come back.
I stared at the photo dejectedly, ran my fingers across his face. So many times on the phone, through e-mail, he'd assured me that his return was imminent. That I simply had to be patient.
"Lizzie," he'd last written, "I know how you feel. It's hard not talking to my best friend for weeks at a time, but you've got to understand. This high school… It's all I ever wanted. They focus on directing, film, everything that pertains to ME."
I understood, or if I didn't, I could pretend. After all, I was the only one who seemed to have a problem with his abrupt decision to attend a year of high school in New York. Well, it was supposed to be a year. Now it was the summer after 10th grade and there was still no real word on when he'd come back. He kept saying, "Soon."
Of course, he'd said that last year too.
"Why?!" I yelled aloud, now.
The silence of my room mocked me. Miranda was in Mexico visiting family as had become a Sanchez tradition. I knew she felt bad leaving me, especially over the last two years, with Gordo gone.
"It's alright," I had assured her, for the second year in a row. "Go, have fun. Who knows, this may be the year he comes back."
She had nodded, but we both knew she didn't believe it. She almost never received anything from him anymore-just a card on her birthday. Even so, she didn't feel the loss I did. After all, for her, he was just a friend. For me he'd been something more for a while now.
And silly, ridiculous me. I thought he'd felt it to. Shows how much I knew. After all, if he cared about me the way I cared about him… Certainly he would have stayed. God knows, I couldn't have ever left him. I could still remember the phone call, his voice gentle in my ear.
"Hey, Lizzie," he'd greeted.
I'd smiled. "Hey."
"Listen, I have some news…"
His voice had trailed away, and something inside me had seemed to close up, my heart darkened in fear. Somehow I knew. And when he'd uttered the words, "I have this opportunity… Lizzie, I can't give it up," something inside me died.
I'd wanted to beg him to stay, but I couldn't. I'd loved him enough to step aside, to honestly want him to be happy.
"Lizzie," my mom called to me from downstairs.
I pounded down the steps and approached her. "Yeah?"
"Come into the kitchen, honey. We're having family meeting."
I did as requested, and slid into a seat across from my dad. I ignored the faces Matt was shooting in my direction and waited.
"Lizzie, we know that you have been having some trouble over these last couple of summers without Miranda and Gordo-"
I cut her off. "He's coming back."
She nodded quickly. "Right. I know. But he's not here NOW. Anyway, your father and I were thinking that maybe you would want to fly out to Mexico and just spend the rest of the summer with Miranda."
I leapt to my feet. "Oh, mom, really?!"
She smiled and shared a look with my dad who added, "If you want to go, get packing. We're dropping you off at the airport in two hours."
I was up the stairs just like that, and swiftly, I piled all my clothes into a suitcase. Finally, a summer that didn't leave me thinking nonstop about Gordo. And if he got back while I was away… Oh well. He could stand to wait for a while.
***
The airport was buzzing with people when we stepped inside. Excitement coursed through my veins for the first time, it seemed, in two full years.
(A/N: Okay, I have been on exactly 4 planes, and to be honest, the airports are a kind of blur. So be patient with the lack of description, please.)
I glanced around, then back at my parents. "You can't come in?" I found myself asking. Sixteen years old and I still couldn't go far without holding my parents' hands.
My mom shook her head. "Airport security and all that." She looked like she was going to cry, and so I wrapped in her in a hug and held her tight.
"I'll be fine," I whispered. "And I want you both to know," I added, drawing away, "how much this really means to me. Honestly, this is exactly what I need."
Matt rolled his eyes.
"Call us when you get there," my dad added.
I nodded in confirmation and with one last, "I love you!" they were gone.
The boarding didn't take long, and just like that I was on the plane. Somehow I lucked out with a window seat and I spend the long flight just staring outside. When we landed and I stepped back into an airport, I pulled at my ticket and read the information. My connecting flight gate wasn't too far off, so, carry-on in hand, I started on my way.
A loud clap of thunder froze me in my spot and I shot a look outside through one of the airport windows. It wasn't raining, but I blinked in surprise and mild fear as a bolt of lightening lit up the room.
A screen naming the flights was a few feet away so I, with about 15 other people, approached it quickly. All down the list, flights were delayed. I swallowed a moan and trudged to my gate waiting area.
I was stuck in the O'Hare airport, alone for who knew how long? Immediately, I pulled out my cell and called my parents. They took it fairly well, and insisted I update them the minute I knew anything. I would, of course, but it didn't look like anyone was going to be forthcoming with information.
"Do you think it's going to be more than an hour," I asked a nearby attendant.
She smiled sympathetically. "I was just told that the wait will be at least that long. I'm sorry."
I nodded and, with a smothered sigh, began looking around for an eatery. When my eyes rested on Cinnabon, I allowed myself a brief feeling of relief.
The person in front of me gave their order in a deep masculine voice. "Just a coffee, please," he requested.
And I suddenly couldn't feel my legs.
"Gordo?"
