Larry had made it sound so easy--just marching up to his old friends and sitting down. If only it were that easy, he thought. He felt like a hypocrite, preaching to Claire about being true to your friends, when he himself was the one who ditched his friends for no particular reason. He stood about 20 feet away from their table, watching their every move. How could he approach them? It was almost ironic--these unpopular people, being unapproachable. He longed to talk to them. He was selfish, that's what he was. It wasn't even about going to college and being richer than them. It was the fact that he had left them. Left his real friends for his own stupid reasons. What's life without friends? Then, he answered his own question. Lonely. He marched right up to the table of his former friends.
~~~~~~~
"I really like your haircut, Lizzie," Miranda said, trying to initiate some small talk to fill the void in their conversation.
"Really?" Lizzie said, stroking her short blonde locks, "I thought it was toobabyish". She looked at her reflection in the window. She frowned. I look like a three-year old. Miranda turned to face her friend for a second.
"No way. You look so adorable," Miranda said, earnestly. The green light came, and she turned her eyes back to the road. She hasn't lost it, Lizzie thought. She still knows how to make me smile.
~~~~~~~
" Larry, I thought I told you" Scott stood up as he saw his ex-friend approaching.
"Scott, will you just give me a chance?" Larry pleaded.
"Fine. You have a minute." Scott looked at his watch. "You have one minute. Go."
"Listen, guys, you have to believe me when I say that my life is pathetic without you. Yes, I'm Lawrence Tudgeman, III. Yes, I'm the richest man in California. But if I don't have any friends, who really cares? You guys are my friends, you guys are everything I care for, and if you won't let me hang around with you anymore, then I'll move on and we'll pretend nothing every happened. But I'mI'm just sorry," Larry stomped away from the table, with tears forming in his eyes.
"What a jerk. We don't need him anyway, right, guys?"
Silence.
"Rightguys?"
~~~~~~~
Kate and Ethan stood around the punch bowl. Here they were. They had just resolved everything. Everything they ever did was now forgiven and forgotten. Then why didn't they have anything to say to each other?
They gazed around the room at random objects, as if things around the room were actually interesting. Finally, the boy spoke.
"You know why reunions are so awkward?" He stared down at his sneakers. "Because the ages we're at right now. These are the ages that we're supposed to be self-centered. I think we have the right to be."
"You were always the smart one, Ethan." Kate just smiled. She wasn't kidding.
Ethan cracked up.
"Uhyou sure about that?"
Kate started to laugh, too.
"Okay, okay. You had your ummoments."
Just like before, they made eye contact, for a split second, before turning away in shame.
~~~~~~~
The mystery boy was downright pissed. No one here knew who he was. How could they not? Sure, sometimes he wasn't the most kind of all people, but he had a good heart. And good intentions.
He peered over to the gym doors. Here they came.
Lizzie McGuire and Miranda Sanchez, in all their glory, promenaded through those doors, arm in arm. Were they still friends? the boy thought. They looked as gorgeous as ever, standing there, gleaming.
It's worth a try, right? I mean, I've asked everyone else. Why not them?
So the mystery boy slid next to them when they were least expecting it.
"Hey, Lizzie! Miranda! Remember me?" He grinned.
Miranda stood, aghast.
"Oh my God. No way," she said.
Lizzie's mouth was hanging open, too.
"GORDO?!"
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[A/N: Ooh, baby, I'm cruel! So is it Gordo? Or no? If you really wanna find out, you might wanna go read the from chapter four up until now, because I might've actually dropped a clue back then, andokay, that's all I'm going to say. This was sort of short. SORRY. Writer's block, my friend. Pleaseeee tell me what you think. Thank you.]
