Thanks to all the incredible people who reviewed! Everyone you rocked! You're getting mental presents right now! The great part is, you open it up and it's a mental version of whatever you want! Cool huh? So everyone else who wants to earn a present, read and review! All the other wonderful people who just come and read, and you're not interested in a present, PLEASE review anyway! It makes me really happy! And I really love to know what you think about what's going on and who-dun- it! Please read and review! *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lizzie smacked at her screeching alarm clock, then covered her head with the blanket. But it was too late now, she was already wide awake. Actually, she was surprised she'd gotten any sleep at all. She had nothing but thoughts of Gordo racing through her head all night. She wrapped her arms around the pillow and let out a contented sigh. Suddenly, with a bout of energy she didn't know she had, she jumped up out of bed and ran to her closet. For once in her life, she could care less if her clothes matched. She grabbed the first jeans and shirt her fingers touched, then hastily hurried into it.
She grabbed her hair brushed and raked it through her hair, then darted down the stairs. As she was struggling to get into her jacket, her mother hurried into the hallway.
"Where are you rushing off too?" Jo asked.
"Oh, hey, Mom! Did Dad get my tires fixed?"
Jo nodded. "Yes, the tires are okay. Now where are you rushing off to?"
"Great!" she squealed, impulsively hugging her mother. Lizzie tried to wipe the huge smile off of her face but was very unsuccessful. "I'm going to give Gordo a ride to school."
Jo stared at her for a minute, then laughed as she rolled her eyes. "Come home after school? I've got a surprise for you."
Lizzie smiled and gave her mom a quick hug before running out the door.
Any other day she would have begged to see the surprise, but not today. Today, she just wanted to see him. She wanted to hug him, put her arms around him and just forget about the rest of the world.
She slid to a stop in front of the car and fumbled with her keys. With the key in hand she finally looked up at the car and saw a manila envelope beneath the windshield wiper.
Inquisitiveness took over and she plucked it away. She swung open the car door then sat down inside the car. She peeled back the seal and reached inside. Her fingers brushed against a smooth, thick paper. She wedged it out of the envelope. It was pictures. Black and white prints. The pictures were from last night. Her and Gordo, outside her house. The pictures were surprisingly clear, and not dark. They hadn't been processed at a photo lab. The strong chemical smell and the feeling of the paper beneath her finger tips revealed that. They'd been done in a home photo lab. She flipped through the many prints of her and Gordo absorbed in each other's embrace. A panicked feeling was welling up in her throat. Who would watch them and take pictures of them?! She started tossing the pictures away from her, onto the floor of the car, not caring if they went all over the floor.

Her breath caught in her throat and a strangled cry escaped her vocal cords as she came upon a very close up picture of Gordo. Something dark and liquid looking was on the side of his head. Was it blood? His eyes were closed, something dark beneath his eye. He was lying on the ground. She flung the picture away from her, but the next one was worse. Her suspicions were confirmed about the blood, the same dark stuff beneath his nose and trickling out of his mouth. She didn't want to look at any more, but she was unable to stop looking. The pictures were only worse. Gordo lying on the dark sidewalk. Finally, with a loud cry, she flung the pictures away from her. Gordo had gotten beaten up bad, and some very sick person had documented it.
She turned the car on and jerked it into reverse. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind, focusing only on her driving. When she stopped the car in front of the Gordon house, she almost forgot to turn off the car, but after grabbing her keys she ran up the walk and pounded on the door.
Mrs. Gordo opened the door and smiled gently at her. "He's in the living room."
For once, she was grateful that his parents were psychologist and they knew that every action didn't require twenty questions. She rushed into the living room and tried not to cry out when she saw him.
A bandage was across his forehead, his cheekbone was darkened with bruises, a bandage across his nose. His bandaged foot was propped up on a pillow, crutches beside him. He closed his eyes briefly and looked up at her and smiled. "Hey."
Her breathing was slow and ragged. "Are you okay?"
"I'm a bit drugged right now," he laughed softly, "So other than that, I don't really know."
She gently lowered herself down beside him on the couch and eased the hair away from his bandage "What happened?"
"I got hit, and hit hard, several times."
"Do you know who it was?"
"Well," he said softly. "I really hope it wasn't a girl because the guy had really broad shoulders, and he hit really hard, and he was taller than me."
"There aren't many people who aren't taller than you," she stated, not know what else to do besides joke.
"Not funny, but good point," he replied, sighing.
"I swear, I'll kill him for this."
"Kill who?" Gordo asked, blankly.
"Ronnie! Who else would do this?"
"Are you saying he would wait for me outside your house for almost three hours?"
"If he's crazy enough to attack you, then he's crazy enough to wait," Lizzie exclaimed, jumping up from the couch.
"Lizzie, there's not proof it's him," he stated. "You can't start accusing anyone."
"I'll be right back," she stated softly, running out to her car. She came back inside and handed him the pictures. "I found those on my car this morning."
"Was Ronnie into photography?"
"I don't know, I hardly know the guy," she shrugged, looking him over. "Gordo, I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
"For everything, you getting beat up, the whole dance thing. Ugh, just everything!"
"Lizzie," he stated softly, reaching out for her hand as he set the pictures aside. "I'm fine. The bruises will go away, my ankle is sprained and will heal in no time," he stated.
Suddenly, her phone went off inside her purse. Not thinking, Lizzie grabbed it. "Hello?"
"Did you get my pictures?" the whispery, dry voice questioned.
"What do you want?" she nearly cried, clutching the phone to her face and turning her back on Gordo.
"You'll see. Very soon, I'll have everything that I want. Enjoy the pictures." The voice dissapearecd and was relaced by the steady hum of the dial tone.