Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

"…Dear Lizzie…"

Dear Lizzie,

I think I may like my best friend as more than a friend. What should I do?

Signed, Confused Guy

* * *

Having waited long enough, David "Gordo" Gordon had finally decided to proclaim his feelings to the object of his affections: best friend, Lizzie McGuire.

And when she starts an advice column for the school eZine, what better way to tell her how he feels than to write to her and ask for advice?

* * *

My dad's advice still fresh in my mind, I slid back into the chair in front of my computer and clicked back onto my email. There was one new message blinking to be opened.

'This is the one,' I thought, as I moved my mouse to open the letter.

"Dear Lizzie," the letter began. "I think I may like my best friend as more than a friend. What should I do?"

Oh-kay. I promised that I would answer the next letter than came my way, and this is it. But this is sort of a big issue. Who am I kidding? This is a huge issue. This person's love life depends on what my reply is. But I did promise to Gordo, and I can't let him down. So here goes.

"Dear Confused"

The words sat alone on my screen, the cursor flashing next to them.

Right. So…if I were giving advice to myself…what would I say? Well, that's stupid. Why would I ask myself for advice? And why would I email myself about it?

Okay, Lizzie, you are thinking too much about this. Pretend that this is Gordo writing to you, and he likes…someone. Yeah, that'll work.

Oh, but it says "best friend." Hmm…okay, so pretend he likes me, and he's asking me for advice. What would I tell him? "Tell her how you feel"?

No. How would I react if Gordo came up and told me he liked me? I'd freak. What was he doing messing up our relationship? How could he do this to me?

Whoa, hold on, McGuire. This is hypothetical Gordo we're thinking about here. He hasn't done anything yet. Or really, at all. He didn't even write this letter.

Oh, but how sweet would that be if he wrote to me, telling me that he liked me, only not really because I wouldn't know it was him.

Focus, McGuire. Focus!

Okay. So Gordo writes to me and tells me that he likes me as more than a friend: what do I tell him?

"Dear Confused,

I wish I could help you, but I can't."

It hurts to write, but really, what if Gordo went to someone and he told them he liked me, and they gave him the wrong advice? Our entire relationship could wash down the drain, and everyone knows that if something goes down the drain, that you need a plumber or a really, really long coat hanger to get it out.

Back to the email!

I should tell him to follow his heart. Because in movies and books and stuff, peoples' hearts always tell them what's right. And Gordo has a great heart, and it would totally tell him what to do in this situation.

But wait. If he has such a great heart, then why does he have to write?

No, not Gordo. Why does 'Confused Guy' have to write and ask when he probably has a great heart, too?

Maybe he's unsure of himself? Yeah, that's it. He's just unsure that he'll be able to go through with whatever his heart is telling him. He just needs reassurance that his heart will lead him true.

"Dear Confused,

I wish I would help you, but I can't. All I can say is follow your heart. It'll tell you what's right."

There. That sounds good.

I read it over once more and then clicked "send," whisking it away over the electrical paths of the World Wide Web. Wow, definitely just had a Gordo moment.

* * *

Sitting at his computer, after speaking to his best friend, a confused guy read over the reply he had gotten to his email.

'Follow my heart?' he thought. 'It's telling me to tell her, but what will that do to our relationship?'

"Lizzie," Gordo said, standing from his computer chair.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning back to him, her blonde hair swaying.

"There's something I have to tell you."

She smiles at him. And he caves.

"You give great advice."

She gives him a funny, confused smile, and she leaves.

The brunet (A Note: not, I really do mean brunet. I'm not sure if it's actually a word, but he's a guy, so he's technically not a brunette) sighed and slumped back into his chair. He held his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. Defeated again.

He sat there for a few minutes, contemplating how he was always interrupted when he started to tell Lizzie of his feelings.

Suddenly, an idea dawned on him. He lifted his head and shook the mouse to awaken the computer screen. The email from Lizzie came up on his screen. With shaking fingers, he clicked reply and began typing.

"Dear Lizzie,

Thanks for your advice, but I think I need some more! I tried following my heart, but it's not working. My heart wants me to tell my friend how I feel, but each time I'm about to tell her, I chicken out and finish with some lame comment.

What should I do now?

Signed, Confused Guy"