A/N: Hey there, folks! I'm Dorey and this is my first ever fanfiction to be published on fanfiction.net so please be nice. Lizzie McGuire's an interesting show and I watch it when I can. I saw the movie too and I thought it was cute. I was waiting from watching my first episode for Lizzie and Gordo to get together and they still haven't! Grr. So I took my vengeance out on writing this thing. Hope you guys enjoy and please leave a review.

Don't Ask Me

Prologue

"Gordo, I hate you! I'll never, ever speak you to ever again! You've ruined this chance for me forever!"

"Lizzie - I didn't mean that - I didn't mean to!"

"Just...go. Go away. I can't - I can't think right now. I need time. Space. Go."

"...'kay, Liz. I...I'm sorry."

"Bye, Gordo."

"Bye."

****

Like that? Right, that was a very bad point. Rather, it is a very bad point. That nasty little scene just happened two days ago. Friday. Very inauspicious, I'd say. I can't decide whether I did the right thing or not though...telling Taylor that. I don't know. It's strange. Well, I can't decide now. Right. Maybe I should backtrack a bit? Yeah. Back to last Monday - the beginning of the week and when it all began.

I don't like Mondays very much. Like everyone else, I don't like it because it's the beginning of the week - another five days in the bowels of high school, otherwise known as Hell-In-Disguise. Presiding at the head is my homeroom teacher, Mr. Fieldings. He's Satan, that's who he is. Gives you detention if you're thirty seconds late after the bell. Lucky for me, I only see him twice a week. The other three days I have tutoring duty. I get to skip out on the hour-long homeroom or 'mediation period'. The school system decided that if we have time to relax, then we'll do better in class. Most homerooms watch movies or nap or something. Fieldings reads to us from his 'unfinished bestseller novel' that's about as interesting as Pride and Prejudice. I mean, no offense to anyone who likes Jane Austen. If anyone interrupts, he yells at them. Personally, I have no clue what's with the book. Like I said, I'm only there for two days.

My tutoring is what just screwed me over there. You see, Lizzie McGuire is the greatest person to ever walk the face of the planet. That's my opinion, at least. Of course, she'd never look twice at Gordo, her always-there-guy-best-friend, even though he's hopelessly fallen for her. Sometimes I sit there and think to myself how much easier my life would be if I fell for anyone else - even Kate Sanders. Urgh. Anyway, I was tutoring as usual during homeroom. It was this kid - Keane Siegal. He was really behind in our math class - the poor guy had mono for two months. We were working in the designated room we had been given. It was the tutoring room. Anyone could go at any point in the day and they'd find someone on 'duty' so to speak.

"No, no, wait. No, that's wrong." I said, checking Keane's math with my calculator.

He sighed. "Dave, I'm not doing good here, am I?"

I bit back my immediate response to correct his grammar. "Er...it's been two months, Keane. A long time. It's okay, you'll catch up."

"Yeah, but this geometry crap's screwing me over." He grumbled, doodling a spiral in the margin of his notebook. "I can't do this."

"Proofs are hard. You'll come around. I know, let's work on triangle congruency. It's a bit easier, I think. It's next on our list anyway." I grabbed a clean sheet of paper and drew a right triangle on it.

It was that minute that I met Taylor Shanley, the guy who'd flip Lizzie's world upside-down and the one that would help me, betray me, and then stab me and leave me to die. Dramatic, yeah, I know. But very sadly true. Don't get me wrong, it's not really his fault. He doesn't have a clue what he's doing. I still like him. He's a good guy.

"Hey Dave. Someone else." Keane said. I looked up.

Taylor was a senior. He moved from Ireland two years ago and had a lilting accent that Miranda and Lizzie deemed as 'hot'. He was tall, taller than me of course. He had bleach blonde hair that he spiked up with gel and liked to wear button-downs like I did. Usual popular guy attire, I'm supposing. Cargos and the sort. However, he was a strange guy in the popularity circles. He was on Math League and participated in the Science Bowl every year. He wasn't braindead - like Ethan - and I heard he was quite a genius on the piano. A perfect guy, you'd think. He also played basketball and was on the team. Always got the lead role in the school play, that sort've guy. I couldn't imagine what he'd be doing in the tutoring room.

"Hi. What can I do for you?" I asked, aware that I was the tutor on duty.

Taylor turned around and smiled. "Nothing really. I'm tutoring after you, but my homeroom teacher let us out early so I just decided to come here. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No. Not really." I said, shrugging. I turned back to Keane.

He was packing up. "Dave, listen, I know that math's important and everything, but I need a break. Can we cut this session short?"

"Yeah. Sure, Keane." I replied. I closed my math binder. "I'll see you Wednesday?"

He nodded, opening the door and then left. Taylor was examining a globe in the corner of the room. I had nothing to do. I still had half an hour left before I had history and I didn't really feel like going to the library. I sat down at a desk, pulled out my book-of-the-moment and started to read, tuning out the little squeaking of the globe as it turned and the shuffling of Taylor's feet against the floor.

"Ender's Game, huh? Good book."

His voice startled me and I jumped slightly. "Er...yeah. It's good. Really good."

"Have you gotten to the part when he gets his army?" Taylor asked, eyes lighting up. I realized he actually wanted to speak and put my book down with slight reluctance.

"No. Not yet."

He looked faintly abashed. "Sorry. Ruined something for you there."

"I knew it was going to happen."

"O' course." He grinned. "What's your name?"

I was puzzled. Why'd he want to know who I am? "David Gordon. I - I'm a freshman."

"Figured as much, you know. You look like one." Taylor said thoughtfully. "They're always so jumpy when an upperclassman talks to them."

"I guess." I replied carefully.

"So. Do your friends call you Dave or David?" He asked. "That kid called you Dave, right?"

I was starting to like this guy. He was nice and had the ability to put people at ease. "Actually, my close friends call me Gordo. But I don't really care. You can call me whatever." I smiled. "Whichever one you prefer. That's what most people do."

"Gordo...from your last name?"

"Yeah. My best friend Lizzie gave it to me when we were about three. She thought there were too many David's in the world." I reminisced.

"She's right." Taylor grinned. "My brother's name's David. And that's me Da's middle name."

I nodded. "So which one do you pick?"

"I'll just go with Dave. I'm not a close friend - wouldn't want to be intruding on Lizzie's territory there." He laughed. "Don't know this girl but she might be really overprotective of her best friend."

"Not that much. I don't think she'd mind horribly." I responded, remembering her comments on how he looked and how 'gorgeous' he was.

He smiled again. "Me name's Taylor Shanley. Born in Dublin. Friends call me Taylor."

"Nice to meet you, Taylor." I held out my hand.

Taylor shook it. "Pleasure's all mine, Dave."

The bell rang at that moment and I gathered my things together, not quite so eager to be on my way to history. Though...Lizzie was in that class. I set my calculator on top of my binder and started to go. Taylor spoke up, a friendly and, I suspect, a well-liked tone.

"I'll see you at lunch, Dave." He called.

"Uh...sure. See you, Taylor." I said, surprised.

"Bye."

And that, my friends, is the beginning of my story. From that fateful meeting onwards. I don't regret meeting Taylor Shanley but I do regret telling my best friend, one Lizzie McGuire, about him. Oh yes I really regret it.