Chapter 8: What's Wrong With Me?

A/N: I have no ideas! Help me! Give me a story I can mold and work with! Anything!!! Please! I'm begging you!

Gordo's POV

"Gordo!" Lizzie whispered from her seat.

I ignored her. Mr. Digg wasn't in the classroom yet, and the class was sitting, talking, and throwing paper airplanes. I was doodling in my notebook. I didn't notice it, but I was writing her name over and over.

I heard her sigh heavily. She got up and stomped to my desk, calling my name. "Gordo!" She stopped at my desk, and pulled me up by my shirt collar.

I was surprised and jumped back, but she didn't let go. I rolled my eyes. I knew I shouldn't have gotten Lizzie McGuire mad. It isn't pretty.

She let go of me and started yelling. "Why are you ignoring me!?" She exclaimed.

"Me? I'm not ignoring you." I protested innocently.

She pulled me closer, and I stopped breathing. I was about three inches away from her. "Yes. You. Are." She said in between her gritted teeth. "I want to know why!"

At this point, the whole class was staring at us as if they were watching Dawson's Creek. I got so annoyed. If I didn't want Lizzie to know why I was so pissed off at her, why was it such a big deal?

"I'm not, Lizzie." I said simply, hoping that she'd believe me.

She looked into my eyes as if she were searching for the truth. "You're lying." She whispered, and ran out the classroom door crying, passing Mr. Digg on the way.

"Whoa, what's wrong with our Juliet?" He asked the class.

Nobody answered.

Miranda piped up. "She just got dumped by her Romeo."

Mr. Digg glanced at me, and then sighed. "Oh."

My jaw dropped open. I did not dump her! I just... just...

What *had* I done?

***

Lizzie's POV

I ran into a bathroom, and started sobbing.

What gave Gordo the nerve to lie to me? And why about something as big as this? I counted to ten and thought about what my mom always said when I got mad at someone.

"Put yourself in their shoes. Think about why they would do such a thing."

I imagined myself as Gordo. Smart, cute, funny... my best friend. And then I imagined myself doing what he does. Getting A's, directing, correcting our mistakes... the normal stuff.

I imagined myself as him for the past week, and I still didn't get why he hated me so much. What was wrong with me? What had I done wrong?

I looked at myself in the mirror. Did he hate me because I was ugly? I was. My stringy blonde hair, my cloudy gray eyes, my fat body, my huge ears. I was nothing but a dumb blonde. Was that it? (A/N: We all know it wasn't!)

Or was it that I wasn't smart? I had never been as smart as everyone else (bet never as bad as Ethan). Or was it that I wasn't nice and considerate?

Then the thought struck me like a bolt of lighting.

He hated me because I used him. I never thought about anybody but myself. Whenever I messed up, I'd come running to him, and he comforted me. But he was sick of taking me selfishness, and now he hated me.

My eyes were red and puffy, and I looked carefully into the mirror. I saw a foggy picture of myself. I was hideous, and I was crying in a bathroom, with no one to comfort me. I needed Gordo. I needed him to assure me that he didn't hate me, and that everything was okay.

But everything *wasn't* okay.