Disclaimer: Hello, I do not own Lizzie, Gordo (I wish), Miranda, or any of the other characters in this story. I also do not own the pig-head named Marcus Jones. Nobody owns him, because he is a loser and everyone hates him. Tah-dah!
*Hanging By A Moment*Chapter 2 – Completely Incomplete (Or "Ditched and Found")
Prom. The magical night had come. Lizzie arrived, glued to her date's arm. She was looking around. Miranda should be here by now…
"Hey, Liz?"
"Yeah?" Lizzie, answered, looking up, grinning at the sound of Marcus's voice.
"I'm gonna go talk to a friend, okay?
"Yeah. Sure. Go ahead." She detached herself from Marcus, forcing a smile and watching him cross the room, walk right up to a platinum blonde and proceed to suck most her face off.
Lizzie took a faltering step backwards, taking choking breaths as she tried to rid herself of the feeling of being punched.
"What?" she whispered aloud, hearing tears in her voice.
"Hey, Lizzie!" Miranda came bounding up to her excitedly. "Isn't this a rockin' party? I – whoa!" she stopped when she saw Lizzie tears. What's wrong, amiga?"
Lizzie sniffled and pointed over at Marcus, tears flowing freely.
"Oooh…tough. Come on. I'll take you to the bathroom and get you all fixed up and then you can drink punch with Gordo and wait for someone to ask you to dance."
"Like anyone'll dance with me," Lizzie choked tearfully as Miranda steered her to the bathroom.
"Sure they will! Besides, there's always Gordo. He'll dance with you."
"You think?" Lizzie said sadly, dabbing at her running nose and make-up.
"Uh," Miranda rolled her eyes. "Yeah!"
"Right."
Ten minutes later, Lizzie was sitting at a small table sipping sparkling white grape juice. She didn't have long to wait (barely twenty minutes) before Gordo arrived and found her.
"Hey, where's Marcus?" His tone suggested that he could really care less, but Lizzie didn't notice, as a fresh wave of tears was now spilling from her eyes.
"Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey," Gordo rushed forward, kneeling in front of her, looking up into her face, his hand on her knee. "What are the tears for?"
"Marcus, "she sobbed angrily. "Two minutes after we got here he went over and frenched some blonde."
"Frenched…?" Gordo muttered, confused. "Oh, right, right. Yeah, never mind."
Gordo pulled a chair up next to her and sat down, hesitating before slowly putting his arm around her. To his surprise, and utter happiness, Lizzie accepted the gesture, scooting closer and leaning into him. He put his other arm around her, taking a few deep breaths to clear his head. "It's okay," he murmured. "You'll be fine."
He held Lizzie like that for a while, her head burrowed in his chest, his head resting on hers.