Chapter 5: Who's Falling for Who?

A/N: To quote Animated Lizzie: 'You like me! you really, really... uh, what's next line? Oh yeah, you really, really like me!' I love your guys reviews! They mean so much to me. I got a lot of inspiration and I think I might update faster now. Remember, the more reviews, the more quicker chapters flood in. A couple notes: I changed the name of this chapter three times. 'Impress Her', 'Remember', and finally 'Who's Falling For Who?' It just sounds better. Oh, and just to let you know, since Lizzie got amnesia, she's more smarter and less clueless. JUST 6 DAYS UNTIL THE LMM DVD!

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Lizzie's POV

"So... this is my house?" I asked, staring at the unfamiliar residence.

"Yeah." David... I mean Gordo, said.

I scrunched my nose up. "I was kind of hoping for a two-hundred-year-old Victorian mansion, but this will work."

He chuckled. "It actually isn't that bad. I practically live here, so I should know."

I smiled.

"He's right." Matthew, aka Matt, who was my little twerp brother piped up. "It's not *bad*, it's terrible... living with *her*."

I scoffed, and we went inside. Gordo and Miranda (my other best friend) lead me to my room.

"Wow. I was a real..." I picked up an old slice of pizza that was lying on top of my computer. "...slob." I said.

"We know." Miranda and Gordo said at the same time.

"Wanna help me clean it up?" I asked.

Miranda's eyes widened as she stared at me in disbelief. "Uh... you know... I kinda can't, 'cuz..." She looked her watch. "Um... it's two o'clock! Oh, no. I'm going to miss Buffy. Gotta go!" She slipped outside.

Gordo shook his head. "She doesn't even watch Buffy." He muttered.

"Okay, so, will *you* help me?" I asked him.

He looked hesitant. "Uh... okay, I guess."

I picked up a dirty sweatshirt. "We should start with-"

"Lizzie! Come down here for a minute!" My mother yelled.

"Oh, sorry Da-Gordo. I'll be right back." I said, and ran downstairs.

***

Gordo's POV

As soon as Lizzie left the room, I got a brilliant idea. I started cleaning frantically, dusting, putting clothes in the hamper, the whole deal. It didn't take very long. Lizzie's room wasn't messy, it was just cluttered. I made her bed, and then.... ta-daa! It was clean. She had to get her memory back now. This was exactly like her birthday when Miranda and I cleaned her room for her while she had to wash the dishes.

I heard footsteps, and tried to find out what kind or position I should be in. Should I be leaning on the door, or be sitting on the couch, or standing? Should I be staring out the window, playing with my hands, or looking at the room to look occupied?

I plopped down on her couch and admired my room, waiting for her to arrive.

"Hi... Oh, wow! What did you do, Gordo?" She said, staring at everything. "How..."

I grinned. "Remember when we cleaned your room last year?" I asked hopefully.

Her eyebrows knitted together, as if she were trying to remember. Her hand flew to her forehead. "I have a headache, Gordo."

I sighed. So much for that idea.

***

(A/N: As I said, Lizzie's much smarter now. I think she is because her mind is cleared from all of the junk that was crowding her true brilliance before. I dunno where I got the idea, it just popped into my head. Makes sense sorta, doesn't it?)

Lizzie's POV

I sat down on my bed that evening and thought.

This Gordo guy... he seemed fishy to me.

I mean, not fishy as in something was wrong with *him*.

It was something wrong about our *relationship*.

It didn't seem possible to for a guy in a girl to be best friends for so long, and not fall for each other. We seemed so close before, and I didn't get it. There was a line between friends and... well, *more* than friends, but no one could resist the urge of crossing that line.

I guess what I was trying to say was that Gordo liked me.

Maybe.

The feelings were so neutral, but maybe inside he really felt something for me. He must be a good actor to be able to cover up his feelings like that. Because it was merely impossible to be 'just friends', so to speak.

Anyway, he was kind of cute.

He *must* like me, because it was so weird to be friends so long and not even one of us falling for the other.

Or maybe he didn't like *me*...

...I liked him.

Interesting thought.