Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.
~*~ Kiss From A Rose ~*~
~*~ Four: Mall ~*~
The afternoon (considering that with one shower and two residents, not to mention the fact that Miranda had to run to her house to grab some clothes for Lizzie, all of which took considerable time) found the trio in the food court of the mall, gorging themselves on giant pretzels.
"Isn't it sad that our habits haven't changed from high school," Gordo observed.
"Well, we were heavy drinkers in college, and look where *that* got us," Lizzie said, sipping at a lemonade. "Way too many nights spent on the floor of one of our dorm rooms."
"I became intimately acquainted with the disinfectant scent of your carpet," he agreed.
"Hey, sleeping in Gordo's room did get me a date or two with his hottie roommate and his hottie roommate's hottie friends," Miranda said. "So I regret nothing."
"So what it comes down to, Gordo," Lizzie said, ignoring Miranda's statement, "is that we're just trying to make up for those lapses in judgment that lasted us for our entire college careers. We're trying to fall into a niche, a nice little routine that hopefully doesn't involve heavy alcohol consumption, because my dorm room toilet can attest that that's *not* a routine I should be doing constantly. It just so happens that our niche was tried-and-true in high school. It's not mundane, it's...*comfortable.*"
Gordo blinked at her. "Whoever said it was mundane?"
"You said it was sad."
"They're not the same thing in the slightest."
"In that context, they were."
"Could we talk about something else?" Miranda whined. "Like that cute guy working the nacho stand."
"You hate nachos," Lizzie pointed out.
"The cheese is liquid plastic," Gordo threw in.
Miranda slid out of her chair with surprising grace and poise, considering she was weighed down by a Big Gulp that could probably contain a Great Lake in its depths. Maybe two. "So, I've changed my mind. I'm Spanish. Nachos are good."
Gordo and Lizzie glanced at each other, simultaneously rolling their eyes. Miranda caught this, but instead of being insulted or annoyed, only smiled. "You two are so cute together," she said with glee, then sucked at her straw and strode purposefully towards the nacho stand.
"What is *with* her?" Lizzie said irritably.
"What do you mean?"
"Her insinuations." Lizzie looked at the lump of stray salt on her paper plate distastefully. "I mean, why is she so desperate to push you and me together? I mean, you and me? A couple? Lizzie and Gordo? Come on."
"I'm insulted by that," Gordo said, and he actually sounded insulted.
Lizzie immediately looked contrite. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You're a *fantastic* guy. It's just that we're best friends, you know? That's all."
"Yeah, it would be freaky," Gordo agreed, neglecting to mention that he had a crush on her throughout all of eighth and ninth grade. That was unimportant, and Lizzie would tweak if she knew, because they were so obviously incompatible as anything but friends.
Lizzie, on the other hand, was neglecting to mention that she had on numerous occasions considered what the world would be like if she and Gordo *were* an item, because if Gordo knew that, he would go completely ballistic, since he so obviously thought they shouldn't be.
Miranda returned tot he table, carrying a cardboard basket of nachos and a small plastic container of cheese, and her Big Gulp in the other hand. "Gay," she confirmed sadly, gazing at the chipping countertop. She allowed herself a few seconds of self-pity, then shoved the basket at her friends. "Nachos, anyone?"
"You're Spanish," Lizzie said, "nachos are good." She pushed them back at Miranda, then stood up. "C'mon, Gordo, we need to find some curtains."
"I have curtains," he said, following her hastily.
"I'm gonna live there, too, remember? You *need* to get rid of those rags you call decoration."
Miranda sighed despondently, and poked a chip in the tub of cheese. She brought it to her nose, sniffed it, then threw it back down with a groan. "They try to pass this off as food?" she said, tossing it in the trash and chasing after her friends.
~*~ Kiss From A Rose ~*~
~*~ Four: Mall ~*~
The afternoon (considering that with one shower and two residents, not to mention the fact that Miranda had to run to her house to grab some clothes for Lizzie, all of which took considerable time) found the trio in the food court of the mall, gorging themselves on giant pretzels.
"Isn't it sad that our habits haven't changed from high school," Gordo observed.
"Well, we were heavy drinkers in college, and look where *that* got us," Lizzie said, sipping at a lemonade. "Way too many nights spent on the floor of one of our dorm rooms."
"I became intimately acquainted with the disinfectant scent of your carpet," he agreed.
"Hey, sleeping in Gordo's room did get me a date or two with his hottie roommate and his hottie roommate's hottie friends," Miranda said. "So I regret nothing."
"So what it comes down to, Gordo," Lizzie said, ignoring Miranda's statement, "is that we're just trying to make up for those lapses in judgment that lasted us for our entire college careers. We're trying to fall into a niche, a nice little routine that hopefully doesn't involve heavy alcohol consumption, because my dorm room toilet can attest that that's *not* a routine I should be doing constantly. It just so happens that our niche was tried-and-true in high school. It's not mundane, it's...*comfortable.*"
Gordo blinked at her. "Whoever said it was mundane?"
"You said it was sad."
"They're not the same thing in the slightest."
"In that context, they were."
"Could we talk about something else?" Miranda whined. "Like that cute guy working the nacho stand."
"You hate nachos," Lizzie pointed out.
"The cheese is liquid plastic," Gordo threw in.
Miranda slid out of her chair with surprising grace and poise, considering she was weighed down by a Big Gulp that could probably contain a Great Lake in its depths. Maybe two. "So, I've changed my mind. I'm Spanish. Nachos are good."
Gordo and Lizzie glanced at each other, simultaneously rolling their eyes. Miranda caught this, but instead of being insulted or annoyed, only smiled. "You two are so cute together," she said with glee, then sucked at her straw and strode purposefully towards the nacho stand.
"What is *with* her?" Lizzie said irritably.
"What do you mean?"
"Her insinuations." Lizzie looked at the lump of stray salt on her paper plate distastefully. "I mean, why is she so desperate to push you and me together? I mean, you and me? A couple? Lizzie and Gordo? Come on."
"I'm insulted by that," Gordo said, and he actually sounded insulted.
Lizzie immediately looked contrite. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You're a *fantastic* guy. It's just that we're best friends, you know? That's all."
"Yeah, it would be freaky," Gordo agreed, neglecting to mention that he had a crush on her throughout all of eighth and ninth grade. That was unimportant, and Lizzie would tweak if she knew, because they were so obviously incompatible as anything but friends.
Lizzie, on the other hand, was neglecting to mention that she had on numerous occasions considered what the world would be like if she and Gordo *were* an item, because if Gordo knew that, he would go completely ballistic, since he so obviously thought they shouldn't be.
Miranda returned tot he table, carrying a cardboard basket of nachos and a small plastic container of cheese, and her Big Gulp in the other hand. "Gay," she confirmed sadly, gazing at the chipping countertop. She allowed herself a few seconds of self-pity, then shoved the basket at her friends. "Nachos, anyone?"
"You're Spanish," Lizzie said, "nachos are good." She pushed them back at Miranda, then stood up. "C'mon, Gordo, we need to find some curtains."
"I have curtains," he said, following her hastily.
"I'm gonna live there, too, remember? You *need* to get rid of those rags you call decoration."
Miranda sighed despondently, and poked a chip in the tub of cheese. She brought it to her nose, sniffed it, then threw it back down with a groan. "They try to pass this off as food?" she said, tossing it in the trash and chasing after her friends.