Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.
Disclaimer 2: I don't know the first thing about Grease, seeing as how I've seen it once. So if you were expecting to see lots of big musical numbers and lots of quoted dialogue, you probably won't. My apologies to any Grease-afficiandos that might be reading this.
Author's note: sorry this is so late!!! I've been suffering the WORST writer's block lately, so none of my stories have been updated, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm also sorry that this chapter isn't up to par. I'll try harder next time.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
You're The One That I Want
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
"Ugh, I am too tired to move," Miranda groaned, collapsing onto the McGuire's couch. Lizzie fell next to her, while Gordo chose to lump himself into the armchair.
"I hate this stupid play," Lizzie said. "Hate, hate, hate."
Gordo said nothing, only made a grunting sound that sounded like he agreed.
It was Friday night, and the trio had just gotten out of the most excruciating practice ever. Gordo, definitely not a good dancer, had enlisted Mr. Dig to help coach the cast in the choreography. It was approaching eight thirty now, and when Mrs. McGuire had gone to pick up her daughter, she'd collected her best friends as well, pronouncing that they needed to get their rest, and the living room was the best place to do it. She was in the kitchen, calling Gordo and Miranda's parents, asking if they could stay the night.
"On the bright side, I think everyone has the choreography down one hundred percent," Miranda said.
"What's the point in knowing the stuff cold if you're too tired to do it?" Lizzie griped.
"Okay, kids, you can stay the night," Jo McGuire said, coming in the room and brandishing the phone. "Lizzie, call for you. It's a boy."
"Boy..?" Lizzie asked, raising one eyebrow at her friends. She accepted the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hey, Liz, it's Ethan."
"Oh, *hey*, Ethan!" Lizzie said, having clearly caught her second wind. She grinned broadly, jumped to her feet, and darted out of the room, chattering with Ethan.
Miranda stared at the blonde's retreating back. "What's with the sudden onslaught of this Lizzie-Ethan thing? Last I checked, they were 'just friends.'"
Gordo looked worried. "You don't think it's serious or anything, is it?"
"Why? 'Fraid of a little competition?" she said teasingly.
Gordo glared at her. "No. It's just that...a guy like Ethan, for all we know, Lizzie could be flavor of the month. He has just about every girl in school after him, before long he's going to choose one of them and leave Lizzie in the dust."
"I don't think you're giving him *or* her that much credit. Ethan's not the brightest crayon in the box --although he is the prettiest-- but he's not dense enough to not see a good thing when he's got it, and he and Lizzie have been friends for awhile now. Besides, Lizzie's too smart to let her heart get broken."
"I think you're wrong, but I'm too tired to argue," Gordo mumbled. "Toss me a pillow, would you?"
Miranda flung a throw pillow at him, which hit him squarely in the face. She expected a protest of some kind, but the only sound Gordo made was a light snore. Miranda smiled slightly. Poor Gordo was really wiped. For the last half hour of practice, he'd had a fallout with the kid doing the lighting, and the kid had quit. Gordo was in quite a mood, and he was also fairly convinced he'd failed the pop quiz in math because he'd forgotten to study the night before. When this whole play was over, Miranda decided she was taking Gordo out for as many curly fries as he could eat without puking.
Miranda switched on the TV, and was in the middle of The Lion King when Lizzie returned, looking both elated and stupefied.
"So how's the boyfriend?" Miranda said.
"He is *not* my boyfriend, thank you very much," Lizzie said hotly, throwing herself on the couch.
"You two are hanging out an awful lot..." Miranda answered, raising one eyebrow. "And now he's *calling* you..."
"Okay, okay, so maybe he asked me to the dance at the end of the month," Lizzie admitted sheepishly.
"And you're *going*, right?"
"I don't know."
Miranda's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Um, hello? This *is* Lizzie I'm talking to, right? Elizabeth Brooke McGuire? Been in love with Ethan Craft since the seventh grade?"
"Whoa! FYI, Miranda, I'm not in love with Ethan Craft. Okay? I mean, we're friends, and maybe I've had a crush on him --a *major* crush," she amended when she saw Miranda's pointed look, "but that doesn't mean we're going to get married or something. So he asked me to the dance. So what? I haven't decided if I'm going yet or not. I haven't decided if I want to. So can we watch The Lion King now? Please?"
Miranda sighed, and turned up the volume. "Yeah. Okay. Fine." She glanced to Gordo and rolled her eyes. "Denial!" she mouthed, before she realized that Gordo was still asleep with the pillow over his face.
But he wasn't the only one. By the time Mrs. McGuire returned to check on the kids, bearing a plate of cookies, the three of them were all fast asleep. Gordo's head had at one point dropped forward onto his chest, so the pillow now rested in his lap. Now his head was leaning precariously against the edge of the chair, threatening to plunge into open air. Miranda and Lizzie had both fallen to one side, and were slanted against each other.
Mrs. McGuire smiled and shook her head, setting the plate down on the table. The poor kids were wearing themselves thin; but they seemed to be enjoying it. She hoped so, for their sakes.
~~~~~
Kate hung up the phone with a slam, and turned to Claire, looking like a wild woman. There was a fire in her eyes unlike anything Claire had ever known, and it made her want to shrink back. But she just frowned slightly. "What's wrong?" She'd only just gotten to Kate's house, and had missed the entire conversation, something that she deeply regretted, because seeing Kate at her worst put a bounce in Claire's step.
"*That* was *Ethan*," Kate said. "I just called him up, and you won't *believe* this. He won't go with me to the dance."
"No. Way," Claire said.
"No, it's worse than that. Weirder than that. It's so Twilight Zone. He asked *McGuire*."
Claire's jaw dropped in a very undignified, unflattering move. "He didn't!"
"He did," Kate said grimly. "I can't believe this. It must be something in the stars or something, I don't know. First she gets the lead in the play, now she gets Ethan? All my hard work, and Losie McGuire reaps the benefits!" Kate made a face. "Ugh. That little goon is going to be sorry she ever crossed me."
Disclaimer 2: I don't know the first thing about Grease, seeing as how I've seen it once. So if you were expecting to see lots of big musical numbers and lots of quoted dialogue, you probably won't. My apologies to any Grease-afficiandos that might be reading this.
Author's note: sorry this is so late!!! I've been suffering the WORST writer's block lately, so none of my stories have been updated, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm also sorry that this chapter isn't up to par. I'll try harder next time.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
You're The One That I Want
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
"Ugh, I am too tired to move," Miranda groaned, collapsing onto the McGuire's couch. Lizzie fell next to her, while Gordo chose to lump himself into the armchair.
"I hate this stupid play," Lizzie said. "Hate, hate, hate."
Gordo said nothing, only made a grunting sound that sounded like he agreed.
It was Friday night, and the trio had just gotten out of the most excruciating practice ever. Gordo, definitely not a good dancer, had enlisted Mr. Dig to help coach the cast in the choreography. It was approaching eight thirty now, and when Mrs. McGuire had gone to pick up her daughter, she'd collected her best friends as well, pronouncing that they needed to get their rest, and the living room was the best place to do it. She was in the kitchen, calling Gordo and Miranda's parents, asking if they could stay the night.
"On the bright side, I think everyone has the choreography down one hundred percent," Miranda said.
"What's the point in knowing the stuff cold if you're too tired to do it?" Lizzie griped.
"Okay, kids, you can stay the night," Jo McGuire said, coming in the room and brandishing the phone. "Lizzie, call for you. It's a boy."
"Boy..?" Lizzie asked, raising one eyebrow at her friends. She accepted the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hey, Liz, it's Ethan."
"Oh, *hey*, Ethan!" Lizzie said, having clearly caught her second wind. She grinned broadly, jumped to her feet, and darted out of the room, chattering with Ethan.
Miranda stared at the blonde's retreating back. "What's with the sudden onslaught of this Lizzie-Ethan thing? Last I checked, they were 'just friends.'"
Gordo looked worried. "You don't think it's serious or anything, is it?"
"Why? 'Fraid of a little competition?" she said teasingly.
Gordo glared at her. "No. It's just that...a guy like Ethan, for all we know, Lizzie could be flavor of the month. He has just about every girl in school after him, before long he's going to choose one of them and leave Lizzie in the dust."
"I don't think you're giving him *or* her that much credit. Ethan's not the brightest crayon in the box --although he is the prettiest-- but he's not dense enough to not see a good thing when he's got it, and he and Lizzie have been friends for awhile now. Besides, Lizzie's too smart to let her heart get broken."
"I think you're wrong, but I'm too tired to argue," Gordo mumbled. "Toss me a pillow, would you?"
Miranda flung a throw pillow at him, which hit him squarely in the face. She expected a protest of some kind, but the only sound Gordo made was a light snore. Miranda smiled slightly. Poor Gordo was really wiped. For the last half hour of practice, he'd had a fallout with the kid doing the lighting, and the kid had quit. Gordo was in quite a mood, and he was also fairly convinced he'd failed the pop quiz in math because he'd forgotten to study the night before. When this whole play was over, Miranda decided she was taking Gordo out for as many curly fries as he could eat without puking.
Miranda switched on the TV, and was in the middle of The Lion King when Lizzie returned, looking both elated and stupefied.
"So how's the boyfriend?" Miranda said.
"He is *not* my boyfriend, thank you very much," Lizzie said hotly, throwing herself on the couch.
"You two are hanging out an awful lot..." Miranda answered, raising one eyebrow. "And now he's *calling* you..."
"Okay, okay, so maybe he asked me to the dance at the end of the month," Lizzie admitted sheepishly.
"And you're *going*, right?"
"I don't know."
Miranda's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Um, hello? This *is* Lizzie I'm talking to, right? Elizabeth Brooke McGuire? Been in love with Ethan Craft since the seventh grade?"
"Whoa! FYI, Miranda, I'm not in love with Ethan Craft. Okay? I mean, we're friends, and maybe I've had a crush on him --a *major* crush," she amended when she saw Miranda's pointed look, "but that doesn't mean we're going to get married or something. So he asked me to the dance. So what? I haven't decided if I'm going yet or not. I haven't decided if I want to. So can we watch The Lion King now? Please?"
Miranda sighed, and turned up the volume. "Yeah. Okay. Fine." She glanced to Gordo and rolled her eyes. "Denial!" she mouthed, before she realized that Gordo was still asleep with the pillow over his face.
But he wasn't the only one. By the time Mrs. McGuire returned to check on the kids, bearing a plate of cookies, the three of them were all fast asleep. Gordo's head had at one point dropped forward onto his chest, so the pillow now rested in his lap. Now his head was leaning precariously against the edge of the chair, threatening to plunge into open air. Miranda and Lizzie had both fallen to one side, and were slanted against each other.
Mrs. McGuire smiled and shook her head, setting the plate down on the table. The poor kids were wearing themselves thin; but they seemed to be enjoying it. She hoped so, for their sakes.
~~~~~
Kate hung up the phone with a slam, and turned to Claire, looking like a wild woman. There was a fire in her eyes unlike anything Claire had ever known, and it made her want to shrink back. But she just frowned slightly. "What's wrong?" She'd only just gotten to Kate's house, and had missed the entire conversation, something that she deeply regretted, because seeing Kate at her worst put a bounce in Claire's step.
"*That* was *Ethan*," Kate said. "I just called him up, and you won't *believe* this. He won't go with me to the dance."
"No. Way," Claire said.
"No, it's worse than that. Weirder than that. It's so Twilight Zone. He asked *McGuire*."
Claire's jaw dropped in a very undignified, unflattering move. "He didn't!"
"He did," Kate said grimly. "I can't believe this. It must be something in the stars or something, I don't know. First she gets the lead in the play, now she gets Ethan? All my hard work, and Losie McGuire reaps the benefits!" Kate made a face. "Ugh. That little goon is going to be sorry she ever crossed me."