Author's Note: Everyone thinks we should beat up Kevin. I don't think it's too bad of an idea myself.... Well here we go, *chapter ten*. *TEN*, guys. I didn't think I'd get it this far, and it really shows no signs of slowing down. Aren't you all just so relieved? :-D
liz3386: Kevin is a few fries short of a Happy Meal. He's ultimately smart enough to realize it'd be stupid to go after Lizzie, though. And I really have no idea where the angstiness came from but there it was sitting on my computer! In hindsight, maybe I should've rewritten or something, but I must've written it for a reason, I think, so whatever. I have a slightly better clue than you guys about where the story is going, but trust me, it's not as big of an advantage as one might think! :) I go where the wind takes me. I'm trying to get away from this weepy stuff and more on track with the lighter side of things. And I am *still* having fun writing this, believe me! You won't see the end of it for a little while longer, I think.
swim6516: General concensus seems to be we should all beat the shiyat out of Kevin, and I'm in whole-hearted agreement! Fluff... is good... ;) Hoping to get there soon, believe you me! And I can understand about the sleep part. I went out to see 'The Matrix' last night with my little sister, and we didn't get home until after 2:30 a.m.... heh...
Baby Gangsta: Yes, poor Gordo! Don't worry, he'll be back on his feet before you know it... :-D Thanks for reading!
Lara: What do you mean *your*?!?! *Mine*, honey. :-D Believe it or not, *I'm* looking forward to the non-angst part too. Though one would think I enjoy putting these guys through hell.... (maybe just a little) Good luck with class!
littlebean: Thank you!
And now we return to your regularly scheduled reading... :)
~*~*~*~
The door opened and Miranda saw that the lights in the living room were already on. Hmm, she thought, Lizzie must still be here. She stepped inside and pocketed her key only to find Lizzie standing at the kitchen sink looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Weird. But Miranda knew something was wrong when her normally cheery friend gave her a forced smile and a quick "Hey." and turned back to the sink, concentrating on whatever small task she was doing.
"Lizzie," Miranda began slowly, "what are you doing?"
"Umm... nothing?" Lizzie answered making it sound like a question more than an answer. "Nothing," she repeated, this time more firmly. Miranda just arched an eyebrow. Oooo-kay, something was *definitely* up, she thought, as she walked over to where Lizzie was standing. As she got closer she noticed the dried tear tracks running down Lizzie's face.
"Lizzie!" Miranda exclaimed. "What's wrong?"
"Oh... uh..." Lizzie stared hard at the sink as if an explanation might lay there. "Well... you see... that is..." she stalled, but stopped when she saw Miranda tapping her foot impatiently. "I took Gordo to swim practice and waited around for him and after it was all over someone beat him up but I don't know who and he hasn't told me yet and he looks really *really* bad," Lizzie said in a rush, tears starting to form in her eyes again. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
"Hey," Miranda said soothingly, rubbing Lizzie's arm. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Is he here?" she asked, getting a nod from Lizzie. Miranda looked around, not seeing him. "In your room?" Lizzie nodded again, heading to said location with Miranda right behind. Lizzie switched on her lamp again, illuminating the room and Gordo with it. Miranda gasped at what she saw. "Oh my..." she whispered.
"Yeah," Lizzie agreed. Noticing the trash can at her feet, she wrinkled her nose and picked it up. "Come on, let's let him sleep," she suggested. "I just woke him up about 20 minutes ago, and he's doing okay."
Miranda arched an eyebrow and looked at the trash can. "So okay that he's throwing up?" she asked a little sarcastically, watching while Lizzie removed the trash back within and threw it into the larger trash can in the kitchen.
"He got kicked in the stomach a few times, he said," Lizzie explained. "But he says he'll be fine, and I think he will be in a couple days. In the meantime, he's gonna stay here. Is that okay?" she asked. Miranda just nodded.
"Yeah, sure..." Miranda trailed off as the phone rang. Rolling her eyes (perfect moment, she thought) she picked up the phone. "Hello?" she asked, then appeared to be listening to whoever was on the line, her expression going from alarmed to exasperated. After a few minutes, she finally said, "Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can." Pause. "*As soon as I can*," Miranda repeated, rolling her eyes a second time. With that, she hung up the phone.
"So..." Lizzie asked.
"So." Miranda shook her head, walking towards her bedroom. "That was my mom. Apparently, Tia Fifi is on her death bed. For the sixth time this semester."
"Ah," Lizzie said sympathetically. "So you gotta go back to Hillridge?"
"Yeah," Miranda said, frustrated, while she started throwing clothes into an overnight bag. "It's the weekend after *mid-terms*. Aren't I supposed to be sleeping and going out late and whatever in celebration that I survived another one?" she asked to no one in particular. "And *not* going to visit my hypochondriac aunt who isn't *really* sick, but wants people to think that?" With that, she zipped up her bag with more force than was probably neccessary and gave Lizzie a hug. "I gotta go," she said. "I mean, it's a two-hour drive and it's already 7:30. And I probably won't be back until Monday at the earliest. Listen," she started, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen and writing down a number. "This is where I'll be, it's my aunt's phone number so just call me if you need to talk or whatever and," she said, glancing towards Lizzie's bedroom, "if Gordo gets worse or whatever I wanna know, okay?" Lizzie nodded. "I'm sure he'll be fine, just like you said, and you're here to take care of him so it should all be okay." Lizzie nodded again. "Treat lover-boy good, alright?" Miranda teased.
"Miranda," Lizzie said scoldingly, "Gordo is *not* my lover-boy."
"Isn't he?" she asked, but before Lizzie could answer that Miranda reached out and gave her another hug. "Bye Lizzie," she called, racing out the door.
"Bye," Lizzie whispered to the empty air and sat down in a chair with a sigh. This was gonna be a *long* weekend, she thought as she clicked on the TV.
~*~
Less than an hour had gone by, but nothing was on the TV and Lizzie was bored with it. Plus she couldn't stop thinking about Gordo and what Miranda had said. 'Isn't he? Isn't he?' just kept echoing in her brain. With a groan, she stood up and went to her room; she couldn't think about this anymore. She should wake him up again and get him to drink something.
"Hey Gordo," she half-whispered, sitting down on her chair and shaking his shoulder. He groaned and batted at her hand. Deja vu, she thought wryly. "Come on," she coaxed. Gordo heaved a deep sigh and rolled onto his back to stare up at her. She grinned at him. "Want some water?" she asked.
"Water, she says," Gordo huffed. "I was sleeping," he whined like a little kid.
"I know," she said, talking to him like a little kid. Gordo just grumbled and sat up. Good, she thought. At least he could lift himself now, and it had only been about four or five hours. He rested against the headboard and stared at her expectantly. "Oh!" she exclaimed, handing him the glass of water. "Sorry, forgot." He just nodded, taking long gulps from the glass. "Feeling any better?" she asked hopefully.
He looked at her over the top of his glass, then pulled it from his mouth. "Yeah," he said. "I don't feel so much like I got broad-sided by a semi anymore." He cracked a smile at her. Lizzie smiled back.
"Are you hungry?" she asked him.
"Starving," he admitted.
"I'll make you some soup," Lizzie offered, standing up. "Be right back," she told him. Gordo nodded. He was just nodding off again when Lizzie returned with a bowl of chicken noodle soup on a tray. "Here," she said, laying the tray on his lap.
"Thanks." Gordo picked up the spoon and Lizzie sat next to him in her chair until he'd finished.
"I'll take that," she said, picking up the tray and taking it out to the kitchen to put in the sink. I'll wash it later, she thought. She prepared another ice pack for Gordo and went back to the room, where she saw Gordo just blinking and staring around.
"You know," he said, "everything just looks so much different when it's only two-dimensional," he cracked, grinning at Lizzie and pointing to the eye that was swelled shut. Lizzie grinned too, handing him the ice pack and sitting on the bed next to him. "Just what I need," he said approvingly.
"Me or the ice pack?" she asked jokingly.
Gordo gazed at her seriously. "Just you," he said in a low voice, "because I could live without the ice pack."
Lizzie stared at him, her lower lip trembling. Oh my goodness, Lizzie thought, but that was cut off as soon as Gordo leaned over and his lips touched hers in a chaste kiss. Her eyelids fluttered closed. This, she thought dreamily, was-- She opened her eyes slowly as Gordo pulled away, just looking at him. He looks scared, she thought. Scared I'll reject him? *Never*, she thought vehemently and smiled at him.
"Was that okay?" Gordo whispered, still looking scared and nervous.
"No," Lizzie whispered back. "It was perfect." Now *she* was feeling nervous.
"Really?" he asked, looking relieved.
"Absolutely," she answered. They were both still whispering, even though no one was around to hear; somehow, it felt like if they spoke any louder it would break this spell, and both of them would wake up to find it had been nothing more than a dream.
"I guess getting my butt kicked by Kevin was worth it," Gordo joked, leaning in to kiss her again. He could kiss her all day, Lizzie decided, moving in to meet him. And she'd find out who Kevin was later....
~*~*~*~
Author's Note: Dude, *they KISSED*!!!! I don't think I need to say any more than that, right? Yes, the clouds of angstiness are parting and the sun of foofiness is shining through. We're getting through the storm pretty good. Don't forget to tell me what you think!
liz3386: Kevin is a few fries short of a Happy Meal. He's ultimately smart enough to realize it'd be stupid to go after Lizzie, though. And I really have no idea where the angstiness came from but there it was sitting on my computer! In hindsight, maybe I should've rewritten or something, but I must've written it for a reason, I think, so whatever. I have a slightly better clue than you guys about where the story is going, but trust me, it's not as big of an advantage as one might think! :) I go where the wind takes me. I'm trying to get away from this weepy stuff and more on track with the lighter side of things. And I am *still* having fun writing this, believe me! You won't see the end of it for a little while longer, I think.
swim6516: General concensus seems to be we should all beat the shiyat out of Kevin, and I'm in whole-hearted agreement! Fluff... is good... ;) Hoping to get there soon, believe you me! And I can understand about the sleep part. I went out to see 'The Matrix' last night with my little sister, and we didn't get home until after 2:30 a.m.... heh...
Baby Gangsta: Yes, poor Gordo! Don't worry, he'll be back on his feet before you know it... :-D Thanks for reading!
Lara: What do you mean *your*?!?! *Mine*, honey. :-D Believe it or not, *I'm* looking forward to the non-angst part too. Though one would think I enjoy putting these guys through hell.... (maybe just a little) Good luck with class!
littlebean: Thank you!
And now we return to your regularly scheduled reading... :)
~*~*~*~
The door opened and Miranda saw that the lights in the living room were already on. Hmm, she thought, Lizzie must still be here. She stepped inside and pocketed her key only to find Lizzie standing at the kitchen sink looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Weird. But Miranda knew something was wrong when her normally cheery friend gave her a forced smile and a quick "Hey." and turned back to the sink, concentrating on whatever small task she was doing.
"Lizzie," Miranda began slowly, "what are you doing?"
"Umm... nothing?" Lizzie answered making it sound like a question more than an answer. "Nothing," she repeated, this time more firmly. Miranda just arched an eyebrow. Oooo-kay, something was *definitely* up, she thought, as she walked over to where Lizzie was standing. As she got closer she noticed the dried tear tracks running down Lizzie's face.
"Lizzie!" Miranda exclaimed. "What's wrong?"
"Oh... uh..." Lizzie stared hard at the sink as if an explanation might lay there. "Well... you see... that is..." she stalled, but stopped when she saw Miranda tapping her foot impatiently. "I took Gordo to swim practice and waited around for him and after it was all over someone beat him up but I don't know who and he hasn't told me yet and he looks really *really* bad," Lizzie said in a rush, tears starting to form in her eyes again. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
"Hey," Miranda said soothingly, rubbing Lizzie's arm. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Is he here?" she asked, getting a nod from Lizzie. Miranda looked around, not seeing him. "In your room?" Lizzie nodded again, heading to said location with Miranda right behind. Lizzie switched on her lamp again, illuminating the room and Gordo with it. Miranda gasped at what she saw. "Oh my..." she whispered.
"Yeah," Lizzie agreed. Noticing the trash can at her feet, she wrinkled her nose and picked it up. "Come on, let's let him sleep," she suggested. "I just woke him up about 20 minutes ago, and he's doing okay."
Miranda arched an eyebrow and looked at the trash can. "So okay that he's throwing up?" she asked a little sarcastically, watching while Lizzie removed the trash back within and threw it into the larger trash can in the kitchen.
"He got kicked in the stomach a few times, he said," Lizzie explained. "But he says he'll be fine, and I think he will be in a couple days. In the meantime, he's gonna stay here. Is that okay?" she asked. Miranda just nodded.
"Yeah, sure..." Miranda trailed off as the phone rang. Rolling her eyes (perfect moment, she thought) she picked up the phone. "Hello?" she asked, then appeared to be listening to whoever was on the line, her expression going from alarmed to exasperated. After a few minutes, she finally said, "Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can." Pause. "*As soon as I can*," Miranda repeated, rolling her eyes a second time. With that, she hung up the phone.
"So..." Lizzie asked.
"So." Miranda shook her head, walking towards her bedroom. "That was my mom. Apparently, Tia Fifi is on her death bed. For the sixth time this semester."
"Ah," Lizzie said sympathetically. "So you gotta go back to Hillridge?"
"Yeah," Miranda said, frustrated, while she started throwing clothes into an overnight bag. "It's the weekend after *mid-terms*. Aren't I supposed to be sleeping and going out late and whatever in celebration that I survived another one?" she asked to no one in particular. "And *not* going to visit my hypochondriac aunt who isn't *really* sick, but wants people to think that?" With that, she zipped up her bag with more force than was probably neccessary and gave Lizzie a hug. "I gotta go," she said. "I mean, it's a two-hour drive and it's already 7:30. And I probably won't be back until Monday at the earliest. Listen," she started, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen and writing down a number. "This is where I'll be, it's my aunt's phone number so just call me if you need to talk or whatever and," she said, glancing towards Lizzie's bedroom, "if Gordo gets worse or whatever I wanna know, okay?" Lizzie nodded. "I'm sure he'll be fine, just like you said, and you're here to take care of him so it should all be okay." Lizzie nodded again. "Treat lover-boy good, alright?" Miranda teased.
"Miranda," Lizzie said scoldingly, "Gordo is *not* my lover-boy."
"Isn't he?" she asked, but before Lizzie could answer that Miranda reached out and gave her another hug. "Bye Lizzie," she called, racing out the door.
"Bye," Lizzie whispered to the empty air and sat down in a chair with a sigh. This was gonna be a *long* weekend, she thought as she clicked on the TV.
~*~
Less than an hour had gone by, but nothing was on the TV and Lizzie was bored with it. Plus she couldn't stop thinking about Gordo and what Miranda had said. 'Isn't he? Isn't he?' just kept echoing in her brain. With a groan, she stood up and went to her room; she couldn't think about this anymore. She should wake him up again and get him to drink something.
"Hey Gordo," she half-whispered, sitting down on her chair and shaking his shoulder. He groaned and batted at her hand. Deja vu, she thought wryly. "Come on," she coaxed. Gordo heaved a deep sigh and rolled onto his back to stare up at her. She grinned at him. "Want some water?" she asked.
"Water, she says," Gordo huffed. "I was sleeping," he whined like a little kid.
"I know," she said, talking to him like a little kid. Gordo just grumbled and sat up. Good, she thought. At least he could lift himself now, and it had only been about four or five hours. He rested against the headboard and stared at her expectantly. "Oh!" she exclaimed, handing him the glass of water. "Sorry, forgot." He just nodded, taking long gulps from the glass. "Feeling any better?" she asked hopefully.
He looked at her over the top of his glass, then pulled it from his mouth. "Yeah," he said. "I don't feel so much like I got broad-sided by a semi anymore." He cracked a smile at her. Lizzie smiled back.
"Are you hungry?" she asked him.
"Starving," he admitted.
"I'll make you some soup," Lizzie offered, standing up. "Be right back," she told him. Gordo nodded. He was just nodding off again when Lizzie returned with a bowl of chicken noodle soup on a tray. "Here," she said, laying the tray on his lap.
"Thanks." Gordo picked up the spoon and Lizzie sat next to him in her chair until he'd finished.
"I'll take that," she said, picking up the tray and taking it out to the kitchen to put in the sink. I'll wash it later, she thought. She prepared another ice pack for Gordo and went back to the room, where she saw Gordo just blinking and staring around.
"You know," he said, "everything just looks so much different when it's only two-dimensional," he cracked, grinning at Lizzie and pointing to the eye that was swelled shut. Lizzie grinned too, handing him the ice pack and sitting on the bed next to him. "Just what I need," he said approvingly.
"Me or the ice pack?" she asked jokingly.
Gordo gazed at her seriously. "Just you," he said in a low voice, "because I could live without the ice pack."
Lizzie stared at him, her lower lip trembling. Oh my goodness, Lizzie thought, but that was cut off as soon as Gordo leaned over and his lips touched hers in a chaste kiss. Her eyelids fluttered closed. This, she thought dreamily, was-- She opened her eyes slowly as Gordo pulled away, just looking at him. He looks scared, she thought. Scared I'll reject him? *Never*, she thought vehemently and smiled at him.
"Was that okay?" Gordo whispered, still looking scared and nervous.
"No," Lizzie whispered back. "It was perfect." Now *she* was feeling nervous.
"Really?" he asked, looking relieved.
"Absolutely," she answered. They were both still whispering, even though no one was around to hear; somehow, it felt like if they spoke any louder it would break this spell, and both of them would wake up to find it had been nothing more than a dream.
"I guess getting my butt kicked by Kevin was worth it," Gordo joked, leaning in to kiss her again. He could kiss her all day, Lizzie decided, moving in to meet him. And she'd find out who Kevin was later....
~*~*~*~
Author's Note: Dude, *they KISSED*!!!! I don't think I need to say any more than that, right? Yes, the clouds of angstiness are parting and the sun of foofiness is shining through. We're getting through the storm pretty good. Don't forget to tell me what you think!