Disclaimer: I do not own any Lizzie McGuire characters. jeez, disclaimers
are annoying.

* Hey, I am thinking of writing a story after this where Gordo is recruited
to go to war. They'll be eighteen, but I'm not sure if it would make a
good plot. Tell me if you like the idea! *

Letters to the Skinny Girl
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Chapter Five

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A few weeks later, Lizzie's therapy became boring to her. It was no longer the mystery of what Tina would ask, no longer the excitement of what praise Lizzie would receive for improvement and cooperation. It became a chore, a hassle neccesary by rules every two days. Lizzie didn't mind it much anymore, she just dozed off, daydreaming through it. Tina quickly became frustrated.'

"So," Tina said during one Tuesday session, "Do you think there was a reason for your disorder?"

Lizzie burst. She would no longer handle these boring therapy meetings.

"I don't KNOW why I did it, I just did! Please, let me go. These therapies aren't helping, you know. I fainted yesterday, you know why? Because this is something I have to solve by myself. Please, just let me go." That sounded nothing like Lizzie. What had gotten over her?

Tina's voice was testy. "Very well. I knew this was coming. Lizzie, you have a strong character. You need to find it in you to cure yourself. But, in any case, I was prepared for this. This session is over."

Lizzie opened the door. She regretted having responded that way.

"I. I'm sorry." She said, walking out of the room.

The air was brisk, and Lizzie felt depressed. She thought about it. Why had she done that? Three weeks of sessions and she hadn't even completed the first level. Just like rythmic gymnastics, never finished. Just like her relationship with Gordo, never came to the next level. That was strange, Lizzie thought. What did Gordo have to do with this? Lizzie brushed that subconscious comment away and ignored the fact that she'd wished, for that breif second, that Gordo would be more than a friend.

At her house, Lizzie found that her mother was sitting on the kitchen stool, rummaging through papers, while her father worked a small calculator, taking notes.

"Bill week, huh?" Lizzie asked.

"Why, you're home early. The sun isn't even down yet. What time is it, seven?" Jo said.

"Yup. not much to talk about at therapy. Listen, I'm tired. I'm going to go upstairs." She said.

While Lizzie slept, the phone rang.

"Hello?" Jo answered?

"Yes, this is Doctor Nowle, Lizzie's therapist. I just called to say that I don't think Lizzie is progressing much. I know this is hard, but I think it's best if you sent her to a school I would highly recommend. Pine Ridge, it's a school for teenagers who have problems. Everything from drugs to abuse to eating disorders is treated there, and I would advise you give it a try. It is a boarding school, but for some girls, therapy just won't do it."

Jo was stunned. "Uh.yes, Doctor Nowle, thank you. I. I'll try it."

"If you are to send her, don't tell her until right before she is sent. She will probably try to run away if you tell her too soon. The number is 1800. "

Jo scribbled the number down, thanked Tina once again, and hung up. She explained everything to Sam, sadly shaking her head in disbelief of her daughter's denial of her problem.