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Gordo woke up Sunday morning with a splitting headache. He grabbed his pillow and tried to block out the harsh rays of the sunlight. 'So this is what it is like to have a hang over,' he thought bitterly, realizing that he was unable to go back to sleep.
Rubbing his eyes, he swung his legs over the side of the bed then stumbled down the stairs. At least he could recall the events of the night, he'd had way too many drinks, and after dancing a few more times with Kate, she drove him home.
His parents had already barricaded themselves into their offices and were working.
Rubbing his temple, he pulled open the fridge then grabbed a bottle of water. His hand skimmed the top of the refrigerator as he searched for a bottle of Tylenol. Finally, he found it, took two then retreated up to his bedroom.
He wasn't sure how long he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, but finally the pounding in his head began to subside and he was able to get up and take a shower. After getting dressed, he began to pick up papers laying around his room for lack of anything better to do.
Picking up a paper, he saw the familiar heading:
Dear Mr. Gordon.
He wanted to throw it away, he should have thrown it away, but he couldn't for some reason, he believed he was a glutton for pain.
Dear Mr. Gordon
Your film did not make it as one of the finalist for the
California Coast Film Fest. Enclosed are the reviews you
requested for your movie.
He angrily flipped the page, his eyes scanned the paper. He had these reviews memorized, he didn't need to read them, but he couldn't stop himself. There it was, that line. 'The movie lacked originality and was boring to the viewer.'
For months he'd worked hard on that movie. Carefully drafting the script, then talking people into playing the parts. Working late into the night to edit it perfectly, adding in music, all just to be told it was horrible.
The letter had arrived on Saturday morning, no one was home, and he couldn't get a hold of Lizzie or Miranda. He'd watched the film again, the movie he thought was his masterpiece, and moments after the final credits had rolled, he had thrown it into the wall and felt an odd sense of satisfaction after watching the pieces shatter across the floor.
With nothing else to do, he paced his room. He couldn't focus on his school work. As he'd attempted to read, he'd realized that he was predictable, a Saturday night, and he could have been found at home studying.
That was when he decided his look was old and boring, he'd let his hair grow only getting it cut occasionally, but never more than an inch would be cut. Yesterday, when he'd sat down in the chair, he'd parted with as much of it as he could. Then racked his brain for something else to do that was out of character.
He'd known that Ethan Craft would be having that party, he also knew that it wouldn't expected of him to show up. So, he'd changed his clothes, and set to walking.
The rest of the night, well that was all history, but it was the beginning of getting rid of the boring side of him and finding the more exciting person within.
He reached into the pockets of the pants he'd worn last night. His fingers brushed against his cell phone. Pulling it out, he was surprised to see a message. Pressing the buttons to retrieve the message, he felt his jaw drop.
'Hey, didn't know you could dance like that, let's go out again soon,' the message was from Kate Sanders.
He laughed at himself, remembering more of the day he had tried to block out.
At the party, he couldn't find Lizzie and Miranda, so instead he'd found a group of people from his Calculus class and talked to them until he'd realized he was being predictable again. He'd tried to think of what he wouldn't usually do at a party and that was when he'd seen Kate.
She was dancing in the middle of the room, other people were dancing, but he'd seen her first. He'd watched her body moving gracefully, then before he really knew what he was doing, he was standing across from her, moving to the music.
Dancing with Kate was completely different than what he'd expected. They'd kept their distance at first, he could see Kate's growing appreciation for his dancing. She'd moved closer.
The first few songs, no one had noticed, then he'd noticed some were watching, and it wasn't until another couple of songs when the crowd had formed around them, but by then, he didn't care.
A smile pulled at his lips. Did he want to go somewhere with Kate Sanders?
There weren't any message from Miranda or Lizzie. He wasn't surprised, he'd challenged Lizzie last night, he'd really pissed her off.
He tapped the phone idly then answered the text. 'What did you have in mind?'
Would he go back out with her? Maybe. He didn't see what it would hurt. It wasn't like he was seeing anyone else.
Sure, there was someone he would prefer to go out with, but she didn't feel the same. Her sights were set on more exciting people. No matter what he did, or how he tried to drop hints, she didn't notice. She never did. He was boring Gordo, nothing new to him.
He heard his phone beep loudly. Picking it up, he read the message. 'Let's talk about it at lunch tomorrow.'
He felt an odd feeling. Was it like? Did he like Kate Sanders? Did he like the idea that she might like him? Did he like how he felt when he was with her? Did he just like dancing with her?
He was asking questions he didn't know the answers to. He quickly replied that he would meet her tomorrow.
He put the phone done and stared ahead at the wall. A few silent minutes passed, then he grabbed the phone, and quickly wrote a message. 'Hey Miranda, what's going on?' Now, he just had to wait, and see if she would answer.
Gordo woke up Sunday morning with a splitting headache. He grabbed his pillow and tried to block out the harsh rays of the sunlight. 'So this is what it is like to have a hang over,' he thought bitterly, realizing that he was unable to go back to sleep.
Rubbing his eyes, he swung his legs over the side of the bed then stumbled down the stairs. At least he could recall the events of the night, he'd had way too many drinks, and after dancing a few more times with Kate, she drove him home.
His parents had already barricaded themselves into their offices and were working.
Rubbing his temple, he pulled open the fridge then grabbed a bottle of water. His hand skimmed the top of the refrigerator as he searched for a bottle of Tylenol. Finally, he found it, took two then retreated up to his bedroom.
He wasn't sure how long he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, but finally the pounding in his head began to subside and he was able to get up and take a shower. After getting dressed, he began to pick up papers laying around his room for lack of anything better to do.
Picking up a paper, he saw the familiar heading:
Dear Mr. Gordon.
He wanted to throw it away, he should have thrown it away, but he couldn't for some reason, he believed he was a glutton for pain.
Dear Mr. Gordon
Your film did not make it as one of the finalist for the
California Coast Film Fest. Enclosed are the reviews you
requested for your movie.
He angrily flipped the page, his eyes scanned the paper. He had these reviews memorized, he didn't need to read them, but he couldn't stop himself. There it was, that line. 'The movie lacked originality and was boring to the viewer.'
For months he'd worked hard on that movie. Carefully drafting the script, then talking people into playing the parts. Working late into the night to edit it perfectly, adding in music, all just to be told it was horrible.
The letter had arrived on Saturday morning, no one was home, and he couldn't get a hold of Lizzie or Miranda. He'd watched the film again, the movie he thought was his masterpiece, and moments after the final credits had rolled, he had thrown it into the wall and felt an odd sense of satisfaction after watching the pieces shatter across the floor.
With nothing else to do, he paced his room. He couldn't focus on his school work. As he'd attempted to read, he'd realized that he was predictable, a Saturday night, and he could have been found at home studying.
That was when he decided his look was old and boring, he'd let his hair grow only getting it cut occasionally, but never more than an inch would be cut. Yesterday, when he'd sat down in the chair, he'd parted with as much of it as he could. Then racked his brain for something else to do that was out of character.
He'd known that Ethan Craft would be having that party, he also knew that it wouldn't expected of him to show up. So, he'd changed his clothes, and set to walking.
The rest of the night, well that was all history, but it was the beginning of getting rid of the boring side of him and finding the more exciting person within.
He reached into the pockets of the pants he'd worn last night. His fingers brushed against his cell phone. Pulling it out, he was surprised to see a message. Pressing the buttons to retrieve the message, he felt his jaw drop.
'Hey, didn't know you could dance like that, let's go out again soon,' the message was from Kate Sanders.
He laughed at himself, remembering more of the day he had tried to block out.
At the party, he couldn't find Lizzie and Miranda, so instead he'd found a group of people from his Calculus class and talked to them until he'd realized he was being predictable again. He'd tried to think of what he wouldn't usually do at a party and that was when he'd seen Kate.
She was dancing in the middle of the room, other people were dancing, but he'd seen her first. He'd watched her body moving gracefully, then before he really knew what he was doing, he was standing across from her, moving to the music.
Dancing with Kate was completely different than what he'd expected. They'd kept their distance at first, he could see Kate's growing appreciation for his dancing. She'd moved closer.
The first few songs, no one had noticed, then he'd noticed some were watching, and it wasn't until another couple of songs when the crowd had formed around them, but by then, he didn't care.
A smile pulled at his lips. Did he want to go somewhere with Kate Sanders?
There weren't any message from Miranda or Lizzie. He wasn't surprised, he'd challenged Lizzie last night, he'd really pissed her off.
He tapped the phone idly then answered the text. 'What did you have in mind?'
Would he go back out with her? Maybe. He didn't see what it would hurt. It wasn't like he was seeing anyone else.
Sure, there was someone he would prefer to go out with, but she didn't feel the same. Her sights were set on more exciting people. No matter what he did, or how he tried to drop hints, she didn't notice. She never did. He was boring Gordo, nothing new to him.
He heard his phone beep loudly. Picking it up, he read the message. 'Let's talk about it at lunch tomorrow.'
He felt an odd feeling. Was it like? Did he like Kate Sanders? Did he like the idea that she might like him? Did he like how he felt when he was with her? Did he just like dancing with her?
He was asking questions he didn't know the answers to. He quickly replied that he would meet her tomorrow.
He put the phone done and stared ahead at the wall. A few silent minutes passed, then he grabbed the phone, and quickly wrote a message. 'Hey Miranda, what's going on?' Now, he just had to wait, and see if she would answer.