Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.
Author's note: some of the reviews deserved responses, so ::gasp!:: I'm actually answering them! That's so...unlike me.
Addie: That wasn't where I was going with this particular fic, but I thought I might do one where I bring in our favorite Italian friends. :) I love the idea, though, thanks.
*
ThePopGurlz: Sorry I didn't include a disclaimer about your friend, since I just made the name up using my baby names book. He's unimportant to the story other than I needed something for Mrs. Wortman to do. And I put a standard disclaimer at the top of every page, in case you haven't read it ^ , but I'll do it again if you insist. Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.
*
luvurflyingmonkey123: I can't tell you just yet who the pairings are, but this is probably going to go in a different direction from my other fics, so there's a clue. :)
*
DHCgirl: I seriously love you. You review my things and you're so nice... :D
*
I did notes. I'd love to do a note for all of you, but then we'd have six pages of me not actually telling the story, so...
But in any case, I love you all and thank you thank you thank you a million times over for all of your support and praise. It means a whole hell of a lot.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
You're The One That I Want
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
They settled in a row of the auditorium: Gordo, Miranda, Lizzie, Ethan. Lizzie flashed a smile at her male neighbor. "So, um," she started, hoping that her conversational skills would get slightly better before her pseudo-date with Ethan was over. "What's up?"
"You know, this and that," Ethan said in standard Ethan form.
"Ssh," Miranda said. "It's starting."
Principal Tweedy strutted to the middle of the stage. "I've gathered you here, first period on a Tuesday morning, to deliver some sad news. Our own Mr. Escobar will be leaving us shortly, having been offered an esteemed position to work off-Broadway."
The class erupted in half-and-half murmurs. Some were thrilled that Mr. Escobar would be getting such a cool job, the other half were sad to see him go. "Aw, man," Ethan said. "I liked Mr. E. He thought I was smart."
"He's the only one," Gordo muttered under his breath, which only Miranda and Lizzie heard. Miranda stifled a giggle, and Lizzie reached across her to swat Gordo's arm.
"If I may," Principal Tweedy continued, raising his hands to quiet the crowd. "Mr. Escobar's departure also marks the absence of a drama coach. Now normally, I would be forced under these circumstances to cancel this semester's school play--" at this, he was met with indignant protests, which he waved aside impatiently, "--however, I have come to the decision that with the abundance of talent in this room, I will allow the play to be student-produced. That means that you will be in charge of casting, production, and directing in addition to acting."
This time, the auditorium virtually exploded with noise, all of it joyous. Although Lizzie knew that most of these kids wouldn't get involved at all, much less even go see the play, it was in no uncertain terms, extremely cool for Principal Tweedy to give lowly middle school students so much faith and responsibility. It was like he really respected them.
Tweedy went on to give more announcements, way more mundane than his opener, and Lizzie and her friends huddled, discussing.
"It should totally be a musical," Miranda said.
"Yeah, you're a great singer," Lizzie contributed enthusiastically. "And Gordo is a shoo-in for director."
Gordo went slightly red. "Thanks."
"Of course."
"What about you?" he asked. "Are we going to see Miss McGuire's name in lights?"
"Aw, yeah!" Ethan said. "Lizzie, you *gotsta* do this! Your voice, it's *smokin'*!"
This time it was Lizzie who went red. "Thanks, Ethan," she said, looking down. "But I get huge stage fright."
Gordo, sensing her discomfort, changed the subject. "So you guys think we should do a musical?" he prompted.
Lizzie's eyes lit up. "Totally! I think it should be Grease, you know? I think Ethan would make a great Danny..." She flashed him an adoring smile, but as usual, Ethan was oblivious to her obvious crush.
The assembly was over before they knew it, and they went to second period. Mrs. Stebel was on maternity leave, meaning that they had Mr. Dig for an indefinite period of time. At the end of class, he clapped to get their attention, and said, "Since I'm going to be sticking around the halls of Hillridge for awhile, I've talked with Principal Tweedy, and I'm going to be faculty advisor for the play. That being said, there's going to be a meeting today after school in the auditorium for anyone interested in this."
As Gordo, Lizzie, and Miranda started for the door, Mr. Dig said, "Mr. Gordon?"
They stopped. Gordo raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"I hope you'll be coming to the meeting. I can't think of a person better suited for directing this."
"That's what I said," Lizzie said proudly.
"Seriously consider it, Mr. Gordon?" Mr. Dig asked. "I know that theater isn't your usual forte, but all the same..." he trailed off suggestively.
~~~~~
That afternoon, Lizzie, Miranda, and Gordo found themselves in the auditorium with a bunch of other people, including Kate and Claire. Lizzie grimaced in their general direction, taking seats as far away from them as she dared. She didn't notice when Tudgeman snuck into the back of the theater (no one did), but she did notice when Ethan paraded in and took a seat next to her.
Lizzie swallowed a squeal. Ethan Craft was sitting next to her. She smiled at him, not able to believe she was about to do this, but she was pretty sure he was just confused. "Um, Kate's over there," she said, pointing. Kate, her 'look-at-me' sensors on full tilt, looked over at Lizzie, saw Lizzie and Ethan, and displayed a range of emotions in rapid succession. The ones she lingered on most were confusion, and her final display: hatred.
It was all Lizzie could do not to shrink back in her seat. Instead, she pretended like she hadn't seen Kate's death glare, even though they both knew she certainly had.
Ethan smiled at her in his standard clueless-but-kind way. "Yeah, I know. I saw her."
"So...shouldn't you be sitting with her?" Lizzie said, completely perplexed.
"I wanted to sit with you, Lizzie," he said, and Lizzie felt her body melt. In fact, she was quite surprised to look down and find herself very much solid. "You...you did?" she squeaked.
"Yeah, of course." Like it was the simplest thing in the world.
At this point, he focused his gaze on the stage, oblivious to anything else because that was Ethan's way. Miranda leaned over Gordo, the both of them staring at Lizzie like she'd grown a third head.
"Is *Ethan Craft* sitting next to you?" Miranda said, awed.
"Yeah," Lizzie marveled, wanting to gloat but still too bemused to have it fully sink in.
"He does know that Kate's sitting over there, right?" Gordo said.
"He said he wanted to sit with me," Lizzie said. "Me. Lizzie. McGuire. Lizzie McGuire."
Miranda shoved her open palm in Lizzie's face with the full intention of shutting her up, which it did. "Okay, *we* know who you are."
"And I guess Ethan does too," Lizzie said, smugness creeping into her voice.
Gordo looked to Miranda. "Did I make a wrong turn in the hallway?" he asked. "Because this is the Twilight Zone. Not the auditorium."
Miranda nodded slowly. "Must be," she said. She settled back into her seat, shaking her head. "Last time I ever follow *you*."
Lizzie rolled her eyes, ready to smite them with her sharp tongue, but Mr. Dig appeared on the stage. "People, people. If you're here, you must be interested in participating in the school play. If you're not, I suggest you leave now. And bring us a pizza." He looked around the crowd patiently, waiting for any wayward middle schoolers to realize they weren't supposed to be here, but no one got up. He grinned. "Excellent. You all seem to be devoted thespians. Or otherwise," he amended, noticing Gordo in the audience. "Now, to start, I'm going to have you throw out your suggestions for what play we should do, and then we'll take a nice, democratic vote."
Lizzie's hand shot in the air. "Grease!" she called out.
"Smokin'!" Ethan enthused, beaming at Lizzie. "I love that flick!"
"She suggested that this morning," Gordo said, disbelieving because they'd both sat next to her. Ethan didn't hear him, and he shook his head in amazement.
A few more proposals were thrown out, like Hamlet and Macbeth, but they were all half-hearted. When the voting came, it was almost completely unanimous for Lizzie's suggestion. She grinned proudly, buried under the weight of Ethan's approving stare.
"So grease is the word," Mr. Dig declared. "Excellent. Now all we have to do is determine a director, in place of Mr. Escobar. Like always, if you want to work on crew, you can volunteer, and casting will be held this Friday. Any nominations for director?"
Once again, Lizzie's hand flew into the air. "David Gordon!" she yelled, which caused a few people to shoot her strange looks. "Gordo," she amended, and the confused ones nodded. This confirmation of his identity only served to make Gordo go slightly red, somewhat embarrassed that he may *never* be known as David.
"Anyone else?" Mr. Dig asked, but this time no one answered. "All in favor of our Mr. Gordon?"
Pretty much every hand in the auditorium was raised high. Gordo went even more red and slunk into his seat, but Miranda and Lizzie, grinning, poked him incessantly until he acknowledged Mr. Dig. "I'll do it," he said finally.
Author's note: some of the reviews deserved responses, so ::gasp!:: I'm actually answering them! That's so...unlike me.
Addie: That wasn't where I was going with this particular fic, but I thought I might do one where I bring in our favorite Italian friends. :) I love the idea, though, thanks.
*
ThePopGurlz: Sorry I didn't include a disclaimer about your friend, since I just made the name up using my baby names book. He's unimportant to the story other than I needed something for Mrs. Wortman to do. And I put a standard disclaimer at the top of every page, in case you haven't read it ^ , but I'll do it again if you insist. Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.
*
luvurflyingmonkey123: I can't tell you just yet who the pairings are, but this is probably going to go in a different direction from my other fics, so there's a clue. :)
*
DHCgirl: I seriously love you. You review my things and you're so nice... :D
*
I did notes. I'd love to do a note for all of you, but then we'd have six pages of me not actually telling the story, so...
But in any case, I love you all and thank you thank you thank you a million times over for all of your support and praise. It means a whole hell of a lot.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
You're The One That I Want
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
They settled in a row of the auditorium: Gordo, Miranda, Lizzie, Ethan. Lizzie flashed a smile at her male neighbor. "So, um," she started, hoping that her conversational skills would get slightly better before her pseudo-date with Ethan was over. "What's up?"
"You know, this and that," Ethan said in standard Ethan form.
"Ssh," Miranda said. "It's starting."
Principal Tweedy strutted to the middle of the stage. "I've gathered you here, first period on a Tuesday morning, to deliver some sad news. Our own Mr. Escobar will be leaving us shortly, having been offered an esteemed position to work off-Broadway."
The class erupted in half-and-half murmurs. Some were thrilled that Mr. Escobar would be getting such a cool job, the other half were sad to see him go. "Aw, man," Ethan said. "I liked Mr. E. He thought I was smart."
"He's the only one," Gordo muttered under his breath, which only Miranda and Lizzie heard. Miranda stifled a giggle, and Lizzie reached across her to swat Gordo's arm.
"If I may," Principal Tweedy continued, raising his hands to quiet the crowd. "Mr. Escobar's departure also marks the absence of a drama coach. Now normally, I would be forced under these circumstances to cancel this semester's school play--" at this, he was met with indignant protests, which he waved aside impatiently, "--however, I have come to the decision that with the abundance of talent in this room, I will allow the play to be student-produced. That means that you will be in charge of casting, production, and directing in addition to acting."
This time, the auditorium virtually exploded with noise, all of it joyous. Although Lizzie knew that most of these kids wouldn't get involved at all, much less even go see the play, it was in no uncertain terms, extremely cool for Principal Tweedy to give lowly middle school students so much faith and responsibility. It was like he really respected them.
Tweedy went on to give more announcements, way more mundane than his opener, and Lizzie and her friends huddled, discussing.
"It should totally be a musical," Miranda said.
"Yeah, you're a great singer," Lizzie contributed enthusiastically. "And Gordo is a shoo-in for director."
Gordo went slightly red. "Thanks."
"Of course."
"What about you?" he asked. "Are we going to see Miss McGuire's name in lights?"
"Aw, yeah!" Ethan said. "Lizzie, you *gotsta* do this! Your voice, it's *smokin'*!"
This time it was Lizzie who went red. "Thanks, Ethan," she said, looking down. "But I get huge stage fright."
Gordo, sensing her discomfort, changed the subject. "So you guys think we should do a musical?" he prompted.
Lizzie's eyes lit up. "Totally! I think it should be Grease, you know? I think Ethan would make a great Danny..." She flashed him an adoring smile, but as usual, Ethan was oblivious to her obvious crush.
The assembly was over before they knew it, and they went to second period. Mrs. Stebel was on maternity leave, meaning that they had Mr. Dig for an indefinite period of time. At the end of class, he clapped to get their attention, and said, "Since I'm going to be sticking around the halls of Hillridge for awhile, I've talked with Principal Tweedy, and I'm going to be faculty advisor for the play. That being said, there's going to be a meeting today after school in the auditorium for anyone interested in this."
As Gordo, Lizzie, and Miranda started for the door, Mr. Dig said, "Mr. Gordon?"
They stopped. Gordo raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"I hope you'll be coming to the meeting. I can't think of a person better suited for directing this."
"That's what I said," Lizzie said proudly.
"Seriously consider it, Mr. Gordon?" Mr. Dig asked. "I know that theater isn't your usual forte, but all the same..." he trailed off suggestively.
~~~~~
That afternoon, Lizzie, Miranda, and Gordo found themselves in the auditorium with a bunch of other people, including Kate and Claire. Lizzie grimaced in their general direction, taking seats as far away from them as she dared. She didn't notice when Tudgeman snuck into the back of the theater (no one did), but she did notice when Ethan paraded in and took a seat next to her.
Lizzie swallowed a squeal. Ethan Craft was sitting next to her. She smiled at him, not able to believe she was about to do this, but she was pretty sure he was just confused. "Um, Kate's over there," she said, pointing. Kate, her 'look-at-me' sensors on full tilt, looked over at Lizzie, saw Lizzie and Ethan, and displayed a range of emotions in rapid succession. The ones she lingered on most were confusion, and her final display: hatred.
It was all Lizzie could do not to shrink back in her seat. Instead, she pretended like she hadn't seen Kate's death glare, even though they both knew she certainly had.
Ethan smiled at her in his standard clueless-but-kind way. "Yeah, I know. I saw her."
"So...shouldn't you be sitting with her?" Lizzie said, completely perplexed.
"I wanted to sit with you, Lizzie," he said, and Lizzie felt her body melt. In fact, she was quite surprised to look down and find herself very much solid. "You...you did?" she squeaked.
"Yeah, of course." Like it was the simplest thing in the world.
At this point, he focused his gaze on the stage, oblivious to anything else because that was Ethan's way. Miranda leaned over Gordo, the both of them staring at Lizzie like she'd grown a third head.
"Is *Ethan Craft* sitting next to you?" Miranda said, awed.
"Yeah," Lizzie marveled, wanting to gloat but still too bemused to have it fully sink in.
"He does know that Kate's sitting over there, right?" Gordo said.
"He said he wanted to sit with me," Lizzie said. "Me. Lizzie. McGuire. Lizzie McGuire."
Miranda shoved her open palm in Lizzie's face with the full intention of shutting her up, which it did. "Okay, *we* know who you are."
"And I guess Ethan does too," Lizzie said, smugness creeping into her voice.
Gordo looked to Miranda. "Did I make a wrong turn in the hallway?" he asked. "Because this is the Twilight Zone. Not the auditorium."
Miranda nodded slowly. "Must be," she said. She settled back into her seat, shaking her head. "Last time I ever follow *you*."
Lizzie rolled her eyes, ready to smite them with her sharp tongue, but Mr. Dig appeared on the stage. "People, people. If you're here, you must be interested in participating in the school play. If you're not, I suggest you leave now. And bring us a pizza." He looked around the crowd patiently, waiting for any wayward middle schoolers to realize they weren't supposed to be here, but no one got up. He grinned. "Excellent. You all seem to be devoted thespians. Or otherwise," he amended, noticing Gordo in the audience. "Now, to start, I'm going to have you throw out your suggestions for what play we should do, and then we'll take a nice, democratic vote."
Lizzie's hand shot in the air. "Grease!" she called out.
"Smokin'!" Ethan enthused, beaming at Lizzie. "I love that flick!"
"She suggested that this morning," Gordo said, disbelieving because they'd both sat next to her. Ethan didn't hear him, and he shook his head in amazement.
A few more proposals were thrown out, like Hamlet and Macbeth, but they were all half-hearted. When the voting came, it was almost completely unanimous for Lizzie's suggestion. She grinned proudly, buried under the weight of Ethan's approving stare.
"So grease is the word," Mr. Dig declared. "Excellent. Now all we have to do is determine a director, in place of Mr. Escobar. Like always, if you want to work on crew, you can volunteer, and casting will be held this Friday. Any nominations for director?"
Once again, Lizzie's hand flew into the air. "David Gordon!" she yelled, which caused a few people to shoot her strange looks. "Gordo," she amended, and the confused ones nodded. This confirmation of his identity only served to make Gordo go slightly red, somewhat embarrassed that he may *never* be known as David.
"Anyone else?" Mr. Dig asked, but this time no one answered. "All in favor of our Mr. Gordon?"
Pretty much every hand in the auditorium was raised high. Gordo went even more red and slunk into his seat, but Miranda and Lizzie, grinning, poked him incessantly until he acknowledged Mr. Dig. "I'll do it," he said finally.