Disclaimer: I don't own it!

Summary: it's the gang's sophomore year of high school, but when Lizzie finds out what Gordo did, she completely changes.

***Reap What You Sow***

As I strode to my locker the following morning, a slew of people brushed past me, oozing with praise and admiration. The air was ripe with the smell of suck-up, but I wasn't tired of the adoration. As I spun my combination, I calculated how many eyes were on me.

Kate was the first on the squad to approach me. "Like you didn't already know, but you made the squad."

"Of course I made the squad," I said evenly, pretending like reorganizing the order of my textbooks was the most fascinating task in the world, while inside, I was doing spastic back flips. It was still hard to quell the inner Lizzie, the prototype Lizzie, the Lizzie that I was casting aside for better horizons.

The old Lizzie was eager to please, the old Lizzie wanted to be loved, the old Lizzie was desperate and pathetic and sad. The old Lizzie was naive.

The new Lizzie didn't care about you. She didn't care if you got hurt, she especially didn't care if she was the one doing the hurting. The new Lizzie had been betrayed by the two people she cared most about and was out for blood. The new Lizzie knew that people could not be trusted, that friends were as fake as Anissa's nose. Kate Sanders had always known that, and now Kate was popular. People did her bidding. She wasn't loved, but she was feared and respected and soon I would be, too.

*Screw* the old Lizzie and everything she ever stood for. You could only count on yourself. You had to look out for number one.

"The girls were really blown away by you," Kate continued, and I marveled at the way she called them 'the girls'; like they were some tight little group, when in actuality they only hung out with each other to make themselves look good. It's all about who you know. Which would explain why until today, I was a social nothing.

"Hey, Lizzie," drawled Danny Kessler with a wink as he strolled past. I gave him a smile, but it was polite and very clearly said I wasn't interested. I could do *way* better than Danny Kessler.

Kate watched him walk away and nodded slightly, like she was approving my decision to not be lured in by Danny Kessler. "So, I'm supposed to tell you that your first practice is after school today--" she started, but was cut off when Miranda and Gordo appeared at my elbow like only the most annoying dogs begging for scraps at the table.

"Lizzie, can we talk?" Gordo said, while Miranda remained meekly stoic.

"How many times have I heard *that* phrase?" I said, both bored and disgusted. "You're like a broken record."

"Please?" Miranda contributed in this pathetic little voice. For the briefest flash of a second, I was concerned. Where was that uber-confident Miranda I used to know? The one who fought back with everything she had? It was like I'd stolen all of her confidence for myself. Well, tough. She wasn't getting it back. She should've thought about the repercussions before she decided to make out with my boyfriend in a public place.

With a patronizing sigh, I rolled my eyes, shut my locker, and turned to them. "You have, like, five seconds," I said.

I expected gushing apologies. What I got instead was Gordo saying, "We heard you tried out for cheerleading."

"Try hearing that I *made* the squad," I said pointedly.

"Why would you do that?" Miranda asked, glancing briefly with distaste at Kate. That was the Miranda I knew. Maybe it was just me she couldn't stand up to anymore.

"Because I *wanted* to."

"Listen, we're really sorry about every--" Gordo began, but I checked my naked wrist like I was wearing a watch.

"Oops, time's up. Thanks for playing our game, though," I snarled, then turned to Kate. "Let's go. I don't know if geek is catching, but I don't want to stick around long enough to find out."

Striding away, however, one foot in the grave of my former life, I had to fight the urge to look over my shoulder to catch their reaction. Were they worried about me? Were they thrilled to be rid of me so they could be together?

Why did I even care?

****

"So what's the deal with Sanchez and the Gordork?" Kate asked me as we sat in class.

"Same deal as it's always been," I said. "They're total losers."

"True, but that never bothered you before," she said. I'd forgotten how...*Kate* Kate could be. This morning it had almost seemed like *I* was in charge, the way she just stood back and fed me lines, the way I used to do to her. Now things were back to normal --as normal as they would ever get, all things considered-- and I found myself wishing to be the top dog again. "There must be some dirt."

"Don't you have some little wannabe to order around?" I answered coolly. "Claire hasn't licked your shoes in awhile."

Kate cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Whether it was because she knew enough to back off, or because she figured that she could make me crack later, or because the teacher chose that moment to walk into the room, I'll never know. I don't care to know.

In the front row, Gordo and Miranda were sitting next to each other. They weren't talking. They weren't passing notes. They had come in together, but they didn't leave together. Maybe it *was* just an accident, and maybe it meant nothing.

Throughout all of this, the few times I'd allowed him to speak to me, Gordo had said nothing but meaningless tidbits like "I never meant to hurt you" and "It was a mistake." But he hadn't said "I still love you." Maybe if he had...

No, not even if he had. Not even that could erase what he'd done, not even professing his love could erase the world of hurt he'd created. I'd trusted him. I'd loved him. And what had it left me with? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The thing that killed me was, I hadn't *deserved* it. I was only just now on my quest to be a grade-A bitch. Before I had still been adoring, naive little Lizzie McGuire, following Gordo like a puppy dog, the way he had followed me in middle school. How the tables had turned.

Gordo glanced over his shoulder, a mournful look at me. I deliberately snubbed him, turning my head so quickly that my hair bounced against my face. How dare he look at me like that? How *dare* he? I felt hot anger surging within me. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to suffer.

I was surprised at my vehemence, especially directed at someone I loved so much.

The notion stunned me.

But as I thought it over...yes, I still loved him. How could I not? He'd ripped out my heart, but he was the first person that I'd ever given it to. The only person. He'd accepted me for who I was, and had loved me even though he knew the real me, the true Lizzie that I'd since rejected.

Then he'd gotten bored with Lizzie McGuire. So I'd gotten bored with Lizzie McGuire.

And then the Lizzie McGuire everyone knew and walked over was no more.

I didn't love Gordo; I hated him. Loathed him. Despised him. He was the bane of my existence.

Hate, hate, hate.

How would you like to cry, David Gordon? Cry like you made me cry? How would you like to feel dead inside, to have lost everything? How would you like it?

Would you like to find out?

My mind was spinning with plots and schemes, and ways to make him suffer. Ways to make them *both* suffer. Miranda wasn't immune, either. She'd probably talked him into doing it in the first place. They both had a vendetta against me, they wanted to make me hurt. My best friends. The two people I loved and trusted more than anything.

Not anymore.