[Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, or Sweet Fifteen, which this fic is based loosely around.

This chapter is rather filler-ish. I'm just warning you now. But I still think it's necessary, so if you don't like it, cry or something.

Gosh, I'm rude.

Onto the story.]

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Silently, Lizzie, Gordo and I packed into my mom's minivan, in that order. Quickly, I slammed the door shut, and we were on our way back to my house.

After a tedious awkward silence, my mom turned back to us briefly at a stop light and asked:

How was it?

How was it? How was it?! It was the most boring, irritating and magical experience of my life! Wait...rewind. That made no sense. How can something so magical be so irritating? How could I have had such a horrible and wonderful time, all at the same time?

And they wonder why people go insane. Life--that's what does it to them.

Lizzie and Gordo both plastered on those (fake) smiles they do all too well, and responded in unison, My mother nodded in satisfaction.

When a couple seconds flew by and I still hadn't responded, my mom got this suspicious look on her face.

she said, her voice already taken on that heated, what-happened-this-time?' tone, did you have a nice time?

What do I say, what do I say? Not that I didn't lie to my mom every other day of my life, but I knew I'd eventually have to tell my parents about Andres.

Or do I...

I had a great time, I proclaimed, almost too enthusiastically. I met a couple of Annabella's friends, and they were really... I swallowed and nodded, trying to convey my point. I said with the straightest look on my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lizzie biting her lower lip to keep from laughing, and Gordo was shaking his head slightly. He was either disappointed in me for deceiving my mother, or trying to hide his laughs, too. I suspected the latter.

That's nice, dear, my mom responded automatically.

I might as well have said we got attacked by orange polar bears while rabid leprochauns played their ukeleles, because even then, the response would still be: That's nice, dear.

Since awkward silence again followed, my mom instinctively turned on the radio to a pop station. She was always like that...trying to keep up with the times. And really, that would be cool...if it were any other person. But it was my mom. She was painfully dorky. Come on, she still wears overalls! Who wears them?

If you're wondering why the three of us weren't talking, it's our PAS: Parent Alert System. It was like this radar, and when a parent entered hearing-distance, we ceased our talking. Okay, not all the time. But right about now, what Lizzie and I desperately wanted to talk about was Andres, and I had a feeling Gordo wanted to yell at me for ruining his chances with Annabella. After all, he did have this slight crush on her after I showed him this picture of her one time. One would think he'd stop liking her after 7 years, but you never know with Gordo. After all, he's liked Lizzie for...how long now?

I'm just teasing. Gordo still liking Annabella is kinda creepy. Gordo still liking Lizzie is adorable.

And I know I should totally set them up, play matchmaker, get them together and stuff, but I know if I did, one of them would flip out at me. Plus, you just can't rush these things. And I'm so sure that the person who would do the flipping out would be Gordo, and even though as recently as 7th grade, he was just the other friend' to me, we've gotten a little closer in the past couple years.

Ew, not like Lizzie-and-Gordo close. Platonic closeness.

Though I'd never admit to anyone else, I was a little jealous of Lizzie. NOT because of Gordo, that is. (Repeat after me, people: pla...ton...ic.). But just because someone likes her. And it may not be Ethan Craft, her supposed dream boy', but at least it's someone, right?

No...scratch that. I wouldn't like someone totally gross liking me, because what good would come of that? She's so lucky to have such a totally nice, trustworthy guy always with her...now, if only she'd realize just how lucky she is...

So maybe I can't manipulate the future, and make them be together, but I can always, you know, give fate a little nudge in the right direction.

The sad thing is, I probably think about Lizzie and Gordo more than Gordo thinks about Lizzie. I need to start focusing on my own life.

A little grin passed my face as I remembered. Andres. I would kill just to run my hands through those silky black spikes. Why didn't I think of him earlier? He's someone who's not totally gross who likes me.

Whoa, Miranda, don't get ahead of yourself there.

But he called you beautiful.

What am I doing? I am going schizo, or something. All over a boy.

I take back what I said earlier. Life is not what makes people go insane. Love is.

I peered down at my left palm as discreetly as possible. I knew my mom constantly checked her rearview mirror to see what I was doing, so if she saw anything suspcious, she'd jump to conclusions. Conclusions that were probably right, but she wasn't supposed to know that.

His number was written on my palm. And I know, usually the girl gives the guy her number, right? But that would mean he would have to call me. Oh yeah, and I'm sure my dad wouldn't flip out at some 17 year old guy calling for me.

So I asked for his number, and he wrote it on my palm. When he did, his hand lightly brushed against mine, which sent me into this trembling state where everything I did thereafter was shaky and seemingly ditzy. It was like I was turning into Lizzie! Every time his dark eyes looked into mine, and I went weak in the knees, I just kept thinking, I'm supposed to be the confident one!'

It just so happened that the second I realized I had been admiring the way he wrote his sevens, Gordo peered down and joined me in my admiration.

Miranda, you got his-- he started saying, which sent me into panic mode. Impulsively, I threw my hand over his mouth as both Lizzie and my mother stared on.

Uhh, yeah, Gordo! I said nervously, desperately searching for a cover-up. I do have his... Gulp. Think, Sanchez, think! ..tory next trimester! Thanks for asking!

My mom kind of rolled her eyes at us, weirded out. Lizzie was still squinting in confusion. Gordo just sat there.

Kenf I freethe wow?

I asked. Removing my hand from over his mouth, he repeated himself.

I said, Can I breathe now?'. Which is pointless to say now. So thank you, Miranda.

Any thing for my little Gordyboy!

Lizzie shook her head, her eyes still squinting.

I don't get you two, she deadpanned.

And I don't get you two,' I wanted to respond, but I held my tongue.

We're home! my mom announced, pulling into the driveway.

Tonight was the night Lizzie and Gordo would both be sleeping over. And I should've been excited about that.

But all I could really think about was Andres.

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[A/N: I don't know about you people, but for some reason, everytime I imagine Andres, he looks just like Mike Erwin. Sorry if that just disrupted your own visions of Andres, but I just had to get that out there.

So I finally updated! It's been like a month! I didn't sleep all night! Go me! Go caffeine! Go Draco Malfoy because I love him!!!!!

And now, I haven't read the books. So don't ask.

Lemme know what you think: please review. Thanks!]