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***
When I waltzed into the decked-out gym the following Friday night on the arm of Ethan Craft, easily the most popular freshman, and arguably one of the most popular people in the whole of Hillridge High, the looks I got were admiring (from the guys), envious (from the girls), and disapproving/disgusted (from my *former* friends). Immediately my fellow cheerleaders latched onto me, gossipy, cooing over my dress and shoes and hair and date.
Kate joined in on the fawning, seeing as how I ranked much higher than her on the Chutes and Ladders game that was our social life, and to her credit, she never said a word about Ethan. Had it been anyone else, she would have reamed them out, because Ethan is Kate Sanders' territory. Only, not anymore. Ethan, on the other hand, didn't look at Kate so much as once the entire night, a fact which I'm sure irritated her immensely, and gave me considerable pleasure. Those years of Kate tormenting me with her 'relationship' with Ethan were over. It was my turn to dish out the pain.
Eventually our little clique broke up so that the cheerleaders could dance with their dates and make a spectacle of themselves. Ethan and I, however, hung around the punch bowl while he told me some insipid little story about this concert he'd gone to. I'd nodded and smiled and told him how fascinating it was, but I'd tuned out early on. I kept my eyes on his until the intervals where he'd gaze off into space or gesture elaborately, in which I'd flick my gaze around the gym, seeing who was there, who wasn't, and most importantly, who was staring at me. (The answer to the latter question was, of course, everybody.)
However, even with the sweet spot of my vantage point, I wasn't able to look a full three hundred sixty degrees around me. And Ethan was really too dumb to think of warning me, so I was caught unawares when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I whirled around, determined to ream out whoever was interrupting my date, but I was stunned into silence to see Gordo there.
Gordo, my ex-boyfriend who'd sworn off dances after eighth grade because he felt they put too much pressure on the 'average male' to be above average. A society thing, or whatever. That was Gordo, always so freakin' political.
So needless to say, I wasn't expecting to see him there, and my carefully built walls crumbled as I stared at him, taking in the way his hair was perfectly imperfect, how he was adorable in a dress shirt and a jacket that was a size too big for him.
Then just as quickly my anger surged again, washing away the nostalgia and the blind puppy love. I glared at him. "What are *you* doing here?"
"More importantly than that, what are *you* doing here with *him*?" Gordo asked, glancing over my shoulder at Ethan, who smiled and nodded amicably.
"Ethan's my date," I growled, clutching his arm possessively. Which was a bad move on my part, it indicated weakness and a fierce desire to claim my date, which would subtly reveal to the others that I was insecure, that I was unworthy, that I couldn't hold onto a date. Which totally wasn't true.
I'd worked my ass off to get where I was, and I wasn't about to let that slide because after weeks of the silent treatment, my *ex*-boyfriend decided to step into my life again.
I dropped Ethan's arm, but didn't drop my cold tone. "You're not the only one who can move on," I said in a hiss.
Gordo looked hurt, he actually had hurt flashing in his eyes. "I didn't move on, Lizzie. Honestly, I didn't. It was a mistake, okay? A stupid, stupid mistake that I'd give everything to take back. Lizzie, if I could rewind time..."
I refused to get lured into the web of sentimentality he was weaving me. He was pushing my buttons, the ones years of practice had taught him to push when he was backed into a corner. Next thing I knew, he'd probably be waving a poster of a sad-looking puppy. Well, nothing doing. "If you could rewind time, you'd do *what*, exactly? Never go out with me in the first place, be with the one you really wanted to be with? Miranda?"
He reeled back as though he'd been slapped. "What? Listen, Lizzie, I--"
Suddenly I noticed a few curious eyes directed our way. I was not about to have a public row with the loser king, not in the height of my popularity. I grabbed Gordo's arm and started to stalk out of the gym, barking a fierce order at Ethan, "Stay right here. Don't talk to anyone."
I realized too late as we stepped into the abandoned hallway that bringing Gordo out here was like admitting defeat in a small way. I wasn't as strong as I'd originally thought, apparently, because if I was anything like Kate Sanders I would've dragged his name through the mud in a very public manner. And wasn't that what I'd been hoping to do from the start? Why was the sudden reappearance of David Gordon tugging at my heartstrings?
"Whatever you have to say, you can say it here," I said tonelessly. "I have an image to maintain, thank you very much."
"Lizzie, I never *chose* Miranda over you. Okay? I...I don't want to badmouth Miranda, especially not to save my own skin, but Liz, you have to know the truth. *She* kissed *me*, okay? I didn't kiss her back. I swear." He looked guilty, and I knew why. He was selling out his relationship with his closest friend (closest now that I had removed myself from the picture), just for me. For us.
I didn't know what to do. Old Lizzie and New Lizzie were battling for my soul, right there in the hallway outside of the gym. Should I trust him? Or would he just break my heart again? Would I be that sort of girl who kept going back to the guy that beat her, because I foolishly believed it would get better?
"Please, Lizzie, you have to believe me. I still love you. I never stopped loving you."
I raised my eyes to meet his, and they pleaded with me silently. I was so lost in that stare that I never heard the gym door swing open, but I did hear the sudden thrush of hip hop disturbing the stillness of the hall. "Lizzie, is there some sort of problem?" Kate asked, glaring disdainfully at Gordo. "Some sort of *trash* you need removed?"
Stay with Gordo, reclaim my old life, fall back in love with the boy that I'd never really stopped loving. Be virtually unnoticed and/or largely ostracized.
Go with Kate, continue my life of power and acclaim, of respect and love from people other than Gordo and my parents, *scores* of people. Be feared, but never getting close to anyone, ever.
They were both staring at me expectantly, waiting. Both thinking that they knew exactly what I would choose. How could they both know so well when I had no clue?
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***
When I waltzed into the decked-out gym the following Friday night on the arm of Ethan Craft, easily the most popular freshman, and arguably one of the most popular people in the whole of Hillridge High, the looks I got were admiring (from the guys), envious (from the girls), and disapproving/disgusted (from my *former* friends). Immediately my fellow cheerleaders latched onto me, gossipy, cooing over my dress and shoes and hair and date.
Kate joined in on the fawning, seeing as how I ranked much higher than her on the Chutes and Ladders game that was our social life, and to her credit, she never said a word about Ethan. Had it been anyone else, she would have reamed them out, because Ethan is Kate Sanders' territory. Only, not anymore. Ethan, on the other hand, didn't look at Kate so much as once the entire night, a fact which I'm sure irritated her immensely, and gave me considerable pleasure. Those years of Kate tormenting me with her 'relationship' with Ethan were over. It was my turn to dish out the pain.
Eventually our little clique broke up so that the cheerleaders could dance with their dates and make a spectacle of themselves. Ethan and I, however, hung around the punch bowl while he told me some insipid little story about this concert he'd gone to. I'd nodded and smiled and told him how fascinating it was, but I'd tuned out early on. I kept my eyes on his until the intervals where he'd gaze off into space or gesture elaborately, in which I'd flick my gaze around the gym, seeing who was there, who wasn't, and most importantly, who was staring at me. (The answer to the latter question was, of course, everybody.)
However, even with the sweet spot of my vantage point, I wasn't able to look a full three hundred sixty degrees around me. And Ethan was really too dumb to think of warning me, so I was caught unawares when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I whirled around, determined to ream out whoever was interrupting my date, but I was stunned into silence to see Gordo there.
Gordo, my ex-boyfriend who'd sworn off dances after eighth grade because he felt they put too much pressure on the 'average male' to be above average. A society thing, or whatever. That was Gordo, always so freakin' political.
So needless to say, I wasn't expecting to see him there, and my carefully built walls crumbled as I stared at him, taking in the way his hair was perfectly imperfect, how he was adorable in a dress shirt and a jacket that was a size too big for him.
Then just as quickly my anger surged again, washing away the nostalgia and the blind puppy love. I glared at him. "What are *you* doing here?"
"More importantly than that, what are *you* doing here with *him*?" Gordo asked, glancing over my shoulder at Ethan, who smiled and nodded amicably.
"Ethan's my date," I growled, clutching his arm possessively. Which was a bad move on my part, it indicated weakness and a fierce desire to claim my date, which would subtly reveal to the others that I was insecure, that I was unworthy, that I couldn't hold onto a date. Which totally wasn't true.
I'd worked my ass off to get where I was, and I wasn't about to let that slide because after weeks of the silent treatment, my *ex*-boyfriend decided to step into my life again.
I dropped Ethan's arm, but didn't drop my cold tone. "You're not the only one who can move on," I said in a hiss.
Gordo looked hurt, he actually had hurt flashing in his eyes. "I didn't move on, Lizzie. Honestly, I didn't. It was a mistake, okay? A stupid, stupid mistake that I'd give everything to take back. Lizzie, if I could rewind time..."
I refused to get lured into the web of sentimentality he was weaving me. He was pushing my buttons, the ones years of practice had taught him to push when he was backed into a corner. Next thing I knew, he'd probably be waving a poster of a sad-looking puppy. Well, nothing doing. "If you could rewind time, you'd do *what*, exactly? Never go out with me in the first place, be with the one you really wanted to be with? Miranda?"
He reeled back as though he'd been slapped. "What? Listen, Lizzie, I--"
Suddenly I noticed a few curious eyes directed our way. I was not about to have a public row with the loser king, not in the height of my popularity. I grabbed Gordo's arm and started to stalk out of the gym, barking a fierce order at Ethan, "Stay right here. Don't talk to anyone."
I realized too late as we stepped into the abandoned hallway that bringing Gordo out here was like admitting defeat in a small way. I wasn't as strong as I'd originally thought, apparently, because if I was anything like Kate Sanders I would've dragged his name through the mud in a very public manner. And wasn't that what I'd been hoping to do from the start? Why was the sudden reappearance of David Gordon tugging at my heartstrings?
"Whatever you have to say, you can say it here," I said tonelessly. "I have an image to maintain, thank you very much."
"Lizzie, I never *chose* Miranda over you. Okay? I...I don't want to badmouth Miranda, especially not to save my own skin, but Liz, you have to know the truth. *She* kissed *me*, okay? I didn't kiss her back. I swear." He looked guilty, and I knew why. He was selling out his relationship with his closest friend (closest now that I had removed myself from the picture), just for me. For us.
I didn't know what to do. Old Lizzie and New Lizzie were battling for my soul, right there in the hallway outside of the gym. Should I trust him? Or would he just break my heart again? Would I be that sort of girl who kept going back to the guy that beat her, because I foolishly believed it would get better?
"Please, Lizzie, you have to believe me. I still love you. I never stopped loving you."
I raised my eyes to meet his, and they pleaded with me silently. I was so lost in that stare that I never heard the gym door swing open, but I did hear the sudden thrush of hip hop disturbing the stillness of the hall. "Lizzie, is there some sort of problem?" Kate asked, glaring disdainfully at Gordo. "Some sort of *trash* you need removed?"
Stay with Gordo, reclaim my old life, fall back in love with the boy that I'd never really stopped loving. Be virtually unnoticed and/or largely ostracized.
Go with Kate, continue my life of power and acclaim, of respect and love from people other than Gordo and my parents, *scores* of people. Be feared, but never getting close to anyone, ever.
They were both staring at me expectantly, waiting. Both thinking that they knew exactly what I would choose. How could they both know so well when I had no clue?
