Chapter Twenty-One: When You Wish Upon a Star
A/N: Hey! I'm so glad to be writing again. Thank god I'm done with a few of my projects. They were seriously weighing me down. We went to Atlanta, Georgia for spring break, and as soon as I got back, I'm like, I hafta write! I finished this chappie a long time ago, but I got grounded from the internet so I couldn't post. (The next chappie is going to be really short so please enjoy this long one! ^_~) I know what you're thinking, me, grounded? Yes, I'm sorry to say it does occasionally happen. LOL
Oh, and I started my fifth original story. It's called Dakota Sunshine. Much better title, compared to my other four: Eight Little Look-Alikes, Totally White Xmas, The Mystery of the Sorry Screamer and The OMC Detective Agency. And plus, this story is based on my real thinking, so it so easy and fun to write. I designed the cover, too! It looks awesome! If anyone wants a sample, just review with your email address! I'd love to hear your input! ^_^
By the way, I dislocated my knee. It hurt for weeks... I couldn't bend it or anything... good thing it wasn't bad because this is the first time I had actually twisted/ sprained/ fractured/ broken/ dislocated anything in my entire life. Surprising, since I am a Grade-A klutz. But whatever...
***
Lizzie's POV
It started with a phone call one day.
It was a few months after the TV incident. After that, it was all Gordo. TV, radio, newspaper, internet, all of it, everything, was advertising either Gordo's movies or Gordo himself. I read in a magazine once;
David Gordon is the new hunk in town. He's smart, he's cool, and only TWENTY THREE. A complete hottie. He has girls all over him...
I frowned while reading that. It was a little disturbing. A.) He was twenty- one, not twenty three. B.) Hottie? Never had I thought that others besides myself would use the word "hottie" to describe Gordo. And "girls all over him"? Did the media world not know of me, his lowly kind-of-unofficial-ex? Did he really have girls all over him? Did he have a girlfriend?
There was so much I didn't know about him.
Was this the same Gordo I had known all my life? The same Gordo who taught me to love... who taught me that you're never too young to fall in love... who taught me that love doesn't always consist of sex... he had taught me to live. He was a part of me. And now, he was just... different. The apple of every girl's eye. Whatever happened to Gordo, my one and only... no one else was supposed to be drooling over him. He was mine, all mine!
And I was supposedly mad at him.
So, back to the phone call. It was a Thursday afternoon and I was trying to finish up a math assignment for class while trying to treadmill at the same time. (Trust me, that does not work very well.) I was about to finish a problem and then my cellphone started to ring.
I stopped the treadmill, a bit upset that my workout was interrupted.
"Hello?" I said, panting.
"Lizzie?" Someone asked.
I knew I had heard the voice before, but couldn't put my finger on it. It was at the tip of my tongue, waiting to come out, but didn't make its way to my brain.
Then my eyes bulged.
This someone sounded an awful lot like....
"Gordo?" I gasped.
***
Gordo's POV
I was about to hang up. What was I doing, calling her? Not that I didn't want to. I wanted to. I just couldn't... be calm. Chill. And after three years, I was a little out of practice.
"Yeah." I said, cringing, hoping she didn't think I was a total dweeb.
"Why—why did you call... me...?" She said, a bit awkwardly.
"Um..." I tried to search for a reason. "Can't a guy call his girlfriend for the heck of it?"
'Good cover.' I silently congratulated myself.
"You haven't for the last three years." She said frostily.
My eyes widened. Why was she being so nasty? I had been very busy over the last few years, and surely I had contacted her, but she'd never write back. It wasn't my fault I couldn't visit because of summer classes and a movie or two. I had tried to come back one Christmas, but my flight was delayed and by the time I could actually go, it was past Christmas Day so I went back.
"I apologize for that." I said quietly, genuinely sorry. "But I have good news."
"What?" She said in the same bored, cold, tone.
"I'm coming back. The day after tomorrow." I closed my eyes and waited for her to squeal or laugh or giggle like she always did. One expression, one sign that she was happy just brightened my day by a million shades.
She giggled. "Really?"
I sighed happily. "Yes."
She shrieked. "Oh, my god!"
"Now have you changed...? Because I'm going to need to find you at the airport." I smiled.
She giggled. "I don't think so—I look the same... just a little... different." She tried to sort out her words.
"Different how?"
"I died my hair green and bleached my skin blue and got my tongue pierced."
"No, really."
"I'm a little taller... my hair's a little longer... I'm a little tanner... maybe skinnier but I doubt that diet worked." She took a breath. "Still the same, basically."
"My beautiful Lizzie." I said dreamily. "I love you."
"How about you?" She asked. "I mean, even though I've seen pictures of you practically everywhere... any advancements?"
"The hair's a little—"
"You didn't get it straightened, did you? Because if you did, then I'll... I don't know... I'll commit suicide. You're hair is so perfect, and in the latest magazine it was still frizz."
"No, I didn't get it straightened. But I did trim it a bit."
She sighed in relief. "Good. You can't lose your fro."
"It's not a fro, my hair is naturally curly!" I protested.
"Whatever."
***
Lizzie's POV
The next day, I was screaming in my pillow.
Why oh why had I been so nice to Gordo? Why had I giggled, laughed, and talked to him in any other way that didn't consist of being cold? Now he was going to think I forgave him for abandoning me. When I didn't.
It had come instinctively. I hadn't thought, just talked. I was so used to it.
But it was a bit nice to hear his voice in person.
Better than nice.
"My beautiful Lizzie." He had said, followed by the three wonderful words "I love you."
I smiled dreamily. Once I realized what I was doing, I quickly wiped the grin off my face and continued screaming into the pillow. I heard the door open and close.
"What's up with the screaming?" Miranda asked, without a hey or hi.
I mumbled something grumpily and sat up.
"What?"
"Gordo's coming."
She raised her eyebrow. "Coming? Coming where?"
"Here."
Her eyes widened. "Really?"
I nodded.
"Then why the sad face?" She said, untying her shoe laces. "Every girl in the world is dying to speak to him, and he's your *boyfriend*."
That was a good point.
"But I can't help but be mad!" I whispered. "He *did* abandon me."
"And that was what, like four years ago?"
Another point for Miranda.
"But, Miranda... he... he... I don't love him anymore." I admitted, not sure if this statement was entirely true or not.
She blinked at me. "Are you insane? You've known him ever since you were born! You dated him for four years! All those times you came home from some date, you would scream your head off and ramble on and on about how wonderful Gordo was and how much you loved him... you got me jealous! And you say, after he made ONE stupid mistake in his ENTIRE life, that you don't love him?"
"I—"
"Have you realized that he still loves you, after the numerous times you've made mistakes? You haven't shown up for dates, you kissed other guys, you believed Lucy Carmichael that one time... after all these sins, he still loves you to death. And he just broke a few promises, his first mistake ever, which I bet you he has a very good reason for, and you say you don't love him!?"
"I don't know." I looked at the ground, examining my feet. "I don't know."
***
I sat in the waiting room of the airport, waiting for Gordo to arrive. I had a whole night to think about it, and I realized that I still didn't know if I loved him or not. It all depended on this trip. He better have a good impression. But still, I was going to be a nice hostess and at least pretend that I loved him even if I found out I didn't. I didn't wan to break his heart. Not now, anyway, when he was flying from LA or Harvard or wherever just to see me.
I started to chew on my fingernails. He was a director. Not just a director, but a famous one. How was I supposed to act in front of him? I tried to remind myself that he was just the same Gordo he had always been, but still I chewed all the nails on my left hand off.
I tried to recall the fun times we had, in Rome, in tenth grade... post- Alex... and yet my knees wouldn't settle down. I tried deep cleansing breaths, and that helped a little... for about five or six seconds. Then I started fidgeting again, losing every game on my cellphone. I was a nervous wreck.
At one point the elderly woman that was sitting daintily in the seat next to me spoke. "Who are you waiting for?" She asked sweetly.
"Um, my boyfriend." I smiled at her.
She smiled back. "Lucky boy, he gets someone as beautiful as you."
"He's not so lucky." I said, and then regret to saying it right away.
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
I cocked my head at her. Why, she had no clue of what my name was, and yet she was questioning me about my love life like I was her own granddaughter. Not that I minded... it was kind of awkward, that's all.
"Do you know of the director David Gordon?" I asked, wondering if this would be considered being overly vain.
"Why, of course!" She exclaimed. "He has the most charming movies."
"He... he's my boyfriend." I smiled to myself, knowing that yes, this was a form of bragging.
Her eyes widened, which I didn't know an old lady's could. "That's amazing!"
"But don't tell anyone." I whispered. "He hates it when there's a swarm of fans ready to mob him."
She smiled and winked at me, and I settled back into my chair, much more confident now.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
***
Gordo's POV
I sighed in happiness.
Could life possible get any better than this? I mean, here I was, only twenty-one, and already I had managed to make my biggest dreams come true, and was on my way to see the love of my life. And I had a Diet Vanilla Coke in my hand.
Life was at its peak point for me.
I hadn't been sure; actually I was a nervous wreck, when I left Lizzie for college four years ago. I had thought, 'Oh god, this distance is sure to cause problems.' But it didn't. It had been four years, and we hadn't broken up. To me, this was so miraculous, because life had changed so rapidly, and it seemed as if everything was different. And yet our relationship still remained.
It was amazing, being a director and all. People came screaming up to me all the time, demanding for my autograph. Girls melted over me; guys idolized (or envied...) me. And the best part? I got paid to do what I've always wanted to do. I was so fortunate, since a lot of people hate their job and do it for the sake of living. I think I live for the sake of doing my job.
And Lizzie, of course.
I started to wonder if she still preferred Lizzie, or if it was "Elizabeth" now. Sure Elizabeth sounded more adult, but Lizzie... it was special. I had called her Lizzie since I was born. It had a ring to it... "Lizzie, come here," or "Lizzie, don't leave," or "Lizzie, I love you."
I especially liked that one.
I couldn't wait to say it to her face, just "Lizzie, I love you," over and over again. I would hug her tight and kiss her and make her laugh, repeating those four simple words over and over. I was so glad she hadn't changed; I liked my Lizzie the way she was. And thank god fame and fortune hadn't changed me, either, because Lizzie wanted me 100% the way I left her.
I was thinking about how I had changed in the past few years when the plane landed gracefully onto the runway. The pilot instructed us when and when not to unfasten our seatbelts, and before I knew it, I was entering the LA airport.
I skimmed the bustling crowd eagerly for any sign of Lizzie, or even anyone resembling Lizzie, but nothing came into sight. I frowned and struggled to move on, and before I had stepped even a yard, someone shouted, "It's David Gordon!" and soon I had a long line trailing all the way to Baggage Claim of people, all demanding my autograph. I gritted my teeth as I signed every last person's arm or leg or DVD cover. They were holding me up! Why wasn't Lizzie here yet?
And then, just as I was finishing up the last few people about ten minutes later, I saw her.
She stared at me, and I turned my head. Our eyes locked. I dropped the pen I was using and started to walk towards her, partially paralyzed. She was beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, she was the most stunning thing I had ever seen. "Lizzie." I said, blinking to make sure this was real.
She smiled timidly.
"Oh, Lizzie." I ran toward her and embraced her in a gigantic bear hug. I hate to admit it, but I had tears in my eyes. It was just so blissful! I kissed her cheek and got a whiff of her hair as I buried my head into her shoulder. "I missed you so much." I mumbled.
I let myself stop hugging her and looked her straight in the eye. She looked... befuddled. Her beautiful eyes were clouded over in a storm of confusion and sadness... but I did see a trace of joy in there, too. I bet she just needed some time to get used to this.
I enclosed my arms around her waist and we just stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other, and after a while, I couldn't take it anymore. I kissed her. I kissed her with all my might, pulling her closer and closer each millisecond. And the weird thing is, I didn't even pay attention to if she kissed back. I just kept on kissing her and kissing her, until I ran out of breath.
God, I had missed this. This was what I had been missing in my almost- perfect life. Lizzie. Kissing Lizzie. Being with Lizzie.
Finally, when I drew back from her face, she smiled faintly and turned bright pink and started walking.
"Lizzie... where are you going?" I asked, dragging my carry-on duffel bag. "Aren't you driving me home?"
She ran out of the airport and straight to her car. She opened the door and got in, and I did so behind her.
"What's wrong?" I asked her as she violently turned on the car. "Are you mad?"
She shook her head, and I swore I could see some tears welling up in her eyes.
We didn't speak the whole ride home. And when we finally got to my old house (my parents' house now), she motioned for me to get out. I obeyed without protesting. After I had gotten out, she drove away with out another word.
It suddenly occurred to me that she hadn't even said a word to me yet.
And she hadn't kissed me back.
***
Lizzie's POV
"I will not cry." I said out loud, taking a deep breath. "Not over a guy."
I was at the top of Gemstone Hill in Ocean Spray Park. Recently, I had spent hours here, studying or thinking, whenever I needed some alone time. I loved that hill since you could see over the whole park from there, not to mention bits and pieces of downtown Hillridge.
And I had been there for almost an hour, trying to calm myself down.
Yes, Gordo was the same. The face, the hair, the body structure... it was basically all the same. And the hug was the same. And the kiss... although it was a very passionate, very magical kiss... it was kind of the same. But if everything was the same, why did things feel so different?
And when I had seen him, I had forgotten all about the promises. It was just me and him, nothing else. But when he kissed me... when he kissed me it all came flooding back. And then all I could think was that Gordo was dirty, lying, promise-breaker. And when he had asked me, "Are you mad?" I had said no. And that was the truth. I wasn't mad, not exactly... I just didn't love him anymore. Well, maybe I did, but not as much...
Was it completely necessary to identify your emotions?
I stared at the bright blue sky and soaking it all in, visualizing the clouds as little pictures; something I had always loved to do. I found it comforting, and whenever I felt like crying, it cheered me up. Now it didn't have the full effect, but I could feel myself beginning to cool off.
Did I love him or not?
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No—
"Hey."
I jumped in alarm. I stood up and turned around.
It was Gordo.
"Look, Lizzie, could you just please tell me what's going on?" He pleaded.
"No." I declared, and poignantly marched down the hill.
***
Three days later, things weren't much better. Gordo had stopped trying to contact me. He knew there was no hope in trying because I was stubborn, as I had always been. And I wasn't very happy either. I had half looked forward to this trip of Gordo's, and now it was almost half over.
I sat by the phone, reluctantly picking up and slamming the receiver every time it rang. I kind of wanted to talk, but then again... I was still contemplating what I was feeling here. How on earth could I explain this to Gordo if I couldn't explain it to myself? Half in love, half in hate, was this denial? Depression? Sorrowness? I had no idea.
But after a few more hours of nearly smashing the phone, I got in my car and started driving. Gordo's house. I had noticed that whenever we were in a fight, he was always the one that came to me and talked. Never had I gone to him. Well, now I was changing the tradition.
I was going to talk.
I walked slowly up the Gordon's driveway. Was this really a good idea? What if after all this childish rivalry, Gordo was mad? What if he didn't want to talk? What if he hated me now?
I knocked on the door and it swung open almost before I finished knocking.
"Oh, hello, Lizzie!" Mrs. Gordon greeted me. "David just got home from the beach. He's upstairs."
I smiled and quickly said thanks as I hiked up the stairs. Mmmm, it smelled good up here. What was it, cinnamon? No, mint. Licorice? Definitely not cologne. No... something more natural. More... environmentally scented. Like pine trees or something.
I mentally smacked myself to be thinking about smells at a time like this.
I walked into his room.
"So, what exactly did you do at the beach alone?" I called, hoping for an answer.
Just then, the door opened and in came Gordo, all wrapped up in his white DG monogrammed robe, probably just getting back from a shower.
"Um, Lizzie..." He said, majorly blushing.
"Uh... we can talk—after you get dressed." I said a little unstably as I let myself out of the room.
I mentally giggled as he closed the door. He looked kind of cute in that robe. I had never thought of Gordo as a robe person... more of a towel around the waist kind of guy. But I guess fame changed him. But his hair... awww! It was all messed up and flattened from the water, no longer springy and bouncy as it usually was.
I daydreamed for about five minutes, and then the door opened to reveal a fully-clothed Gordo. Thank god.
I walked in and sat down on his bed as he followed. "So..."
"So what?" He said, still blushing.
"Um..."
"Why are you here?" He asked desolately.
"We—well... partially to apologize."
His left eyebrow went up. "Partially?"
"And to tell you how I feel."
His face softened. "How do you feel?"
"I feel... maybe... I think I don't love you anymore."
He lowered his head. "Oh."
I could've rolled my eyes right then and there. This was definitely not an 'oh' situation. This was more of a 'Why is that? I love you so much.' situation. Not an 'oh' one. What was so 'oh' about this? Didn't he care? Ugh, guys could be so annoying sometimes!
"What I mean is that maybe I don't love you as much." I said, touching his shoulder.
"Why?" He whispered. "What did I do?"
"Well—"
"Is there someone else?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"You promised." I said, sniffing in a tear.
"Promised... what?"
"You promised you'd keep in touch." I whispered so softly I could barely hear myself. "You promised that you would come back on all the holidays and even three day weekends. You promised you'd email me twice a week, call every other night, send me a letter once every two weeks, and be on IM a LOT.
"Your promised." I said, a tear slowly finding its way down my cheek.
"I did?" He asked helplessly.
"Yes. I remember that day so clearly. It was the day you left for college. And after you promised everything, I asked you what if you don't, and you know what you said!?"
"What?"
"Trust me, I will."
He lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
"Well, I don't care about sorry, Gordo!" I exclaimed, tears shedding in sheets. "I wanna know why you didn't contact me for all those years... not even once."
"I—I don't know." He gulped. "I got so busy with my career that I forgot about what was the most important thing to me... you. I know it's a lousy response, but that's what happened, and I don't blame you if you never forgive me. But I do want you to know, I'm sorry."
"Gordo—"
"Wait. Let me talk." He took a deep breath. "I know I haven't been the ideal boyfriend the past several years. I know. I wanted to be... you know how I always said you should be happy to be who you are? Well, I was being completely hypocritical. All that time I wanted to be a jock, to dedicate touchdowns and goals and baskets to you, to prance around in a leather jock jacket, to put it around your arms and see you smile. I wanted to be like Ethan. And it surprised me that even though I wasn't a jock, you still liked me. But I'm still sorry. I'm sorry I never kept your out until one o'clock, dancing at a concert. I'm sorry I wasn't Mr. Make-out King. I'm sorry I was the 'safe guy', the 'parentally approved boyfriend.' I wanted to be wild, Lizzie... I just didn't know how."
I raised an eyebrow. "Gordo... I never wanted you to be wild. I love you the way you are. And I happen to *like* parentally approved."
He was silent.
"And I hate to tell you this, but *I'm* the one that came here to apologize. Not you." I smiled. "Look, I'm sorry I completely ignored you for the past couple days and the way I acted at the airport. It made no sense to do that, and I really want to make it up to you."
"No need to do that." Gordo said. "You just told me you like me the way I am. I don't need anything else."
"Oh, yes you do." I said, scooting closer to him. "This is for the kiss I didn't kiss back in."
I put my hand on his cheek and kissed him passionately. I licked his lips, urging him to kiss back and he did. We kissed for probably a full ten minutes. When I finally felt like I was going to collapse, I pulled back and grinned.
"Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" I asked. "Hopefully not practice?"
"I direct romance films, Lizzie." He pointed out. "Do that math."
I giggled. "But you're so good at it!"
He smiled. "I know."
After that, there was a long silence.
"Gordo?" I finally said.
"Yeah?"
"I think I love you again." I said. "More than ever."
He looked at me eagerly. "Really?"
"Would I lie to you?"
He beamed.
"Come on, let's go somewhere, Gordo. We've only got four days to catch up on four years!"
A/N: Kind of corny... oh well. I like this chappie. It's good. Lots of L/G. Review please! Gosh it's late. Ciao!
xoxo,
PersonY2K ~_~
A/N: Hey! I'm so glad to be writing again. Thank god I'm done with a few of my projects. They were seriously weighing me down. We went to Atlanta, Georgia for spring break, and as soon as I got back, I'm like, I hafta write! I finished this chappie a long time ago, but I got grounded from the internet so I couldn't post. (The next chappie is going to be really short so please enjoy this long one! ^_~) I know what you're thinking, me, grounded? Yes, I'm sorry to say it does occasionally happen. LOL
Oh, and I started my fifth original story. It's called Dakota Sunshine. Much better title, compared to my other four: Eight Little Look-Alikes, Totally White Xmas, The Mystery of the Sorry Screamer and The OMC Detective Agency. And plus, this story is based on my real thinking, so it so easy and fun to write. I designed the cover, too! It looks awesome! If anyone wants a sample, just review with your email address! I'd love to hear your input! ^_^
By the way, I dislocated my knee. It hurt for weeks... I couldn't bend it or anything... good thing it wasn't bad because this is the first time I had actually twisted/ sprained/ fractured/ broken/ dislocated anything in my entire life. Surprising, since I am a Grade-A klutz. But whatever...
***
Lizzie's POV
It started with a phone call one day.
It was a few months after the TV incident. After that, it was all Gordo. TV, radio, newspaper, internet, all of it, everything, was advertising either Gordo's movies or Gordo himself. I read in a magazine once;
David Gordon is the new hunk in town. He's smart, he's cool, and only TWENTY THREE. A complete hottie. He has girls all over him...
I frowned while reading that. It was a little disturbing. A.) He was twenty- one, not twenty three. B.) Hottie? Never had I thought that others besides myself would use the word "hottie" to describe Gordo. And "girls all over him"? Did the media world not know of me, his lowly kind-of-unofficial-ex? Did he really have girls all over him? Did he have a girlfriend?
There was so much I didn't know about him.
Was this the same Gordo I had known all my life? The same Gordo who taught me to love... who taught me that you're never too young to fall in love... who taught me that love doesn't always consist of sex... he had taught me to live. He was a part of me. And now, he was just... different. The apple of every girl's eye. Whatever happened to Gordo, my one and only... no one else was supposed to be drooling over him. He was mine, all mine!
And I was supposedly mad at him.
So, back to the phone call. It was a Thursday afternoon and I was trying to finish up a math assignment for class while trying to treadmill at the same time. (Trust me, that does not work very well.) I was about to finish a problem and then my cellphone started to ring.
I stopped the treadmill, a bit upset that my workout was interrupted.
"Hello?" I said, panting.
"Lizzie?" Someone asked.
I knew I had heard the voice before, but couldn't put my finger on it. It was at the tip of my tongue, waiting to come out, but didn't make its way to my brain.
Then my eyes bulged.
This someone sounded an awful lot like....
"Gordo?" I gasped.
***
Gordo's POV
I was about to hang up. What was I doing, calling her? Not that I didn't want to. I wanted to. I just couldn't... be calm. Chill. And after three years, I was a little out of practice.
"Yeah." I said, cringing, hoping she didn't think I was a total dweeb.
"Why—why did you call... me...?" She said, a bit awkwardly.
"Um..." I tried to search for a reason. "Can't a guy call his girlfriend for the heck of it?"
'Good cover.' I silently congratulated myself.
"You haven't for the last three years." She said frostily.
My eyes widened. Why was she being so nasty? I had been very busy over the last few years, and surely I had contacted her, but she'd never write back. It wasn't my fault I couldn't visit because of summer classes and a movie or two. I had tried to come back one Christmas, but my flight was delayed and by the time I could actually go, it was past Christmas Day so I went back.
"I apologize for that." I said quietly, genuinely sorry. "But I have good news."
"What?" She said in the same bored, cold, tone.
"I'm coming back. The day after tomorrow." I closed my eyes and waited for her to squeal or laugh or giggle like she always did. One expression, one sign that she was happy just brightened my day by a million shades.
She giggled. "Really?"
I sighed happily. "Yes."
She shrieked. "Oh, my god!"
"Now have you changed...? Because I'm going to need to find you at the airport." I smiled.
She giggled. "I don't think so—I look the same... just a little... different." She tried to sort out her words.
"Different how?"
"I died my hair green and bleached my skin blue and got my tongue pierced."
"No, really."
"I'm a little taller... my hair's a little longer... I'm a little tanner... maybe skinnier but I doubt that diet worked." She took a breath. "Still the same, basically."
"My beautiful Lizzie." I said dreamily. "I love you."
"How about you?" She asked. "I mean, even though I've seen pictures of you practically everywhere... any advancements?"
"The hair's a little—"
"You didn't get it straightened, did you? Because if you did, then I'll... I don't know... I'll commit suicide. You're hair is so perfect, and in the latest magazine it was still frizz."
"No, I didn't get it straightened. But I did trim it a bit."
She sighed in relief. "Good. You can't lose your fro."
"It's not a fro, my hair is naturally curly!" I protested.
"Whatever."
***
Lizzie's POV
The next day, I was screaming in my pillow.
Why oh why had I been so nice to Gordo? Why had I giggled, laughed, and talked to him in any other way that didn't consist of being cold? Now he was going to think I forgave him for abandoning me. When I didn't.
It had come instinctively. I hadn't thought, just talked. I was so used to it.
But it was a bit nice to hear his voice in person.
Better than nice.
"My beautiful Lizzie." He had said, followed by the three wonderful words "I love you."
I smiled dreamily. Once I realized what I was doing, I quickly wiped the grin off my face and continued screaming into the pillow. I heard the door open and close.
"What's up with the screaming?" Miranda asked, without a hey or hi.
I mumbled something grumpily and sat up.
"What?"
"Gordo's coming."
She raised her eyebrow. "Coming? Coming where?"
"Here."
Her eyes widened. "Really?"
I nodded.
"Then why the sad face?" She said, untying her shoe laces. "Every girl in the world is dying to speak to him, and he's your *boyfriend*."
That was a good point.
"But I can't help but be mad!" I whispered. "He *did* abandon me."
"And that was what, like four years ago?"
Another point for Miranda.
"But, Miranda... he... he... I don't love him anymore." I admitted, not sure if this statement was entirely true or not.
She blinked at me. "Are you insane? You've known him ever since you were born! You dated him for four years! All those times you came home from some date, you would scream your head off and ramble on and on about how wonderful Gordo was and how much you loved him... you got me jealous! And you say, after he made ONE stupid mistake in his ENTIRE life, that you don't love him?"
"I—"
"Have you realized that he still loves you, after the numerous times you've made mistakes? You haven't shown up for dates, you kissed other guys, you believed Lucy Carmichael that one time... after all these sins, he still loves you to death. And he just broke a few promises, his first mistake ever, which I bet you he has a very good reason for, and you say you don't love him!?"
"I don't know." I looked at the ground, examining my feet. "I don't know."
***
I sat in the waiting room of the airport, waiting for Gordo to arrive. I had a whole night to think about it, and I realized that I still didn't know if I loved him or not. It all depended on this trip. He better have a good impression. But still, I was going to be a nice hostess and at least pretend that I loved him even if I found out I didn't. I didn't wan to break his heart. Not now, anyway, when he was flying from LA or Harvard or wherever just to see me.
I started to chew on my fingernails. He was a director. Not just a director, but a famous one. How was I supposed to act in front of him? I tried to remind myself that he was just the same Gordo he had always been, but still I chewed all the nails on my left hand off.
I tried to recall the fun times we had, in Rome, in tenth grade... post- Alex... and yet my knees wouldn't settle down. I tried deep cleansing breaths, and that helped a little... for about five or six seconds. Then I started fidgeting again, losing every game on my cellphone. I was a nervous wreck.
At one point the elderly woman that was sitting daintily in the seat next to me spoke. "Who are you waiting for?" She asked sweetly.
"Um, my boyfriend." I smiled at her.
She smiled back. "Lucky boy, he gets someone as beautiful as you."
"He's not so lucky." I said, and then regret to saying it right away.
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
I cocked my head at her. Why, she had no clue of what my name was, and yet she was questioning me about my love life like I was her own granddaughter. Not that I minded... it was kind of awkward, that's all.
"Do you know of the director David Gordon?" I asked, wondering if this would be considered being overly vain.
"Why, of course!" She exclaimed. "He has the most charming movies."
"He... he's my boyfriend." I smiled to myself, knowing that yes, this was a form of bragging.
Her eyes widened, which I didn't know an old lady's could. "That's amazing!"
"But don't tell anyone." I whispered. "He hates it when there's a swarm of fans ready to mob him."
She smiled and winked at me, and I settled back into my chair, much more confident now.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
***
Gordo's POV
I sighed in happiness.
Could life possible get any better than this? I mean, here I was, only twenty-one, and already I had managed to make my biggest dreams come true, and was on my way to see the love of my life. And I had a Diet Vanilla Coke in my hand.
Life was at its peak point for me.
I hadn't been sure; actually I was a nervous wreck, when I left Lizzie for college four years ago. I had thought, 'Oh god, this distance is sure to cause problems.' But it didn't. It had been four years, and we hadn't broken up. To me, this was so miraculous, because life had changed so rapidly, and it seemed as if everything was different. And yet our relationship still remained.
It was amazing, being a director and all. People came screaming up to me all the time, demanding for my autograph. Girls melted over me; guys idolized (or envied...) me. And the best part? I got paid to do what I've always wanted to do. I was so fortunate, since a lot of people hate their job and do it for the sake of living. I think I live for the sake of doing my job.
And Lizzie, of course.
I started to wonder if she still preferred Lizzie, or if it was "Elizabeth" now. Sure Elizabeth sounded more adult, but Lizzie... it was special. I had called her Lizzie since I was born. It had a ring to it... "Lizzie, come here," or "Lizzie, don't leave," or "Lizzie, I love you."
I especially liked that one.
I couldn't wait to say it to her face, just "Lizzie, I love you," over and over again. I would hug her tight and kiss her and make her laugh, repeating those four simple words over and over. I was so glad she hadn't changed; I liked my Lizzie the way she was. And thank god fame and fortune hadn't changed me, either, because Lizzie wanted me 100% the way I left her.
I was thinking about how I had changed in the past few years when the plane landed gracefully onto the runway. The pilot instructed us when and when not to unfasten our seatbelts, and before I knew it, I was entering the LA airport.
I skimmed the bustling crowd eagerly for any sign of Lizzie, or even anyone resembling Lizzie, but nothing came into sight. I frowned and struggled to move on, and before I had stepped even a yard, someone shouted, "It's David Gordon!" and soon I had a long line trailing all the way to Baggage Claim of people, all demanding my autograph. I gritted my teeth as I signed every last person's arm or leg or DVD cover. They were holding me up! Why wasn't Lizzie here yet?
And then, just as I was finishing up the last few people about ten minutes later, I saw her.
She stared at me, and I turned my head. Our eyes locked. I dropped the pen I was using and started to walk towards her, partially paralyzed. She was beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, she was the most stunning thing I had ever seen. "Lizzie." I said, blinking to make sure this was real.
She smiled timidly.
"Oh, Lizzie." I ran toward her and embraced her in a gigantic bear hug. I hate to admit it, but I had tears in my eyes. It was just so blissful! I kissed her cheek and got a whiff of her hair as I buried my head into her shoulder. "I missed you so much." I mumbled.
I let myself stop hugging her and looked her straight in the eye. She looked... befuddled. Her beautiful eyes were clouded over in a storm of confusion and sadness... but I did see a trace of joy in there, too. I bet she just needed some time to get used to this.
I enclosed my arms around her waist and we just stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other, and after a while, I couldn't take it anymore. I kissed her. I kissed her with all my might, pulling her closer and closer each millisecond. And the weird thing is, I didn't even pay attention to if she kissed back. I just kept on kissing her and kissing her, until I ran out of breath.
God, I had missed this. This was what I had been missing in my almost- perfect life. Lizzie. Kissing Lizzie. Being with Lizzie.
Finally, when I drew back from her face, she smiled faintly and turned bright pink and started walking.
"Lizzie... where are you going?" I asked, dragging my carry-on duffel bag. "Aren't you driving me home?"
She ran out of the airport and straight to her car. She opened the door and got in, and I did so behind her.
"What's wrong?" I asked her as she violently turned on the car. "Are you mad?"
She shook her head, and I swore I could see some tears welling up in her eyes.
We didn't speak the whole ride home. And when we finally got to my old house (my parents' house now), she motioned for me to get out. I obeyed without protesting. After I had gotten out, she drove away with out another word.
It suddenly occurred to me that she hadn't even said a word to me yet.
And she hadn't kissed me back.
***
Lizzie's POV
"I will not cry." I said out loud, taking a deep breath. "Not over a guy."
I was at the top of Gemstone Hill in Ocean Spray Park. Recently, I had spent hours here, studying or thinking, whenever I needed some alone time. I loved that hill since you could see over the whole park from there, not to mention bits and pieces of downtown Hillridge.
And I had been there for almost an hour, trying to calm myself down.
Yes, Gordo was the same. The face, the hair, the body structure... it was basically all the same. And the hug was the same. And the kiss... although it was a very passionate, very magical kiss... it was kind of the same. But if everything was the same, why did things feel so different?
And when I had seen him, I had forgotten all about the promises. It was just me and him, nothing else. But when he kissed me... when he kissed me it all came flooding back. And then all I could think was that Gordo was dirty, lying, promise-breaker. And when he had asked me, "Are you mad?" I had said no. And that was the truth. I wasn't mad, not exactly... I just didn't love him anymore. Well, maybe I did, but not as much...
Was it completely necessary to identify your emotions?
I stared at the bright blue sky and soaking it all in, visualizing the clouds as little pictures; something I had always loved to do. I found it comforting, and whenever I felt like crying, it cheered me up. Now it didn't have the full effect, but I could feel myself beginning to cool off.
Did I love him or not?
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No—
"Hey."
I jumped in alarm. I stood up and turned around.
It was Gordo.
"Look, Lizzie, could you just please tell me what's going on?" He pleaded.
"No." I declared, and poignantly marched down the hill.
***
Three days later, things weren't much better. Gordo had stopped trying to contact me. He knew there was no hope in trying because I was stubborn, as I had always been. And I wasn't very happy either. I had half looked forward to this trip of Gordo's, and now it was almost half over.
I sat by the phone, reluctantly picking up and slamming the receiver every time it rang. I kind of wanted to talk, but then again... I was still contemplating what I was feeling here. How on earth could I explain this to Gordo if I couldn't explain it to myself? Half in love, half in hate, was this denial? Depression? Sorrowness? I had no idea.
But after a few more hours of nearly smashing the phone, I got in my car and started driving. Gordo's house. I had noticed that whenever we were in a fight, he was always the one that came to me and talked. Never had I gone to him. Well, now I was changing the tradition.
I was going to talk.
I walked slowly up the Gordon's driveway. Was this really a good idea? What if after all this childish rivalry, Gordo was mad? What if he didn't want to talk? What if he hated me now?
I knocked on the door and it swung open almost before I finished knocking.
"Oh, hello, Lizzie!" Mrs. Gordon greeted me. "David just got home from the beach. He's upstairs."
I smiled and quickly said thanks as I hiked up the stairs. Mmmm, it smelled good up here. What was it, cinnamon? No, mint. Licorice? Definitely not cologne. No... something more natural. More... environmentally scented. Like pine trees or something.
I mentally smacked myself to be thinking about smells at a time like this.
I walked into his room.
"So, what exactly did you do at the beach alone?" I called, hoping for an answer.
Just then, the door opened and in came Gordo, all wrapped up in his white DG monogrammed robe, probably just getting back from a shower.
"Um, Lizzie..." He said, majorly blushing.
"Uh... we can talk—after you get dressed." I said a little unstably as I let myself out of the room.
I mentally giggled as he closed the door. He looked kind of cute in that robe. I had never thought of Gordo as a robe person... more of a towel around the waist kind of guy. But I guess fame changed him. But his hair... awww! It was all messed up and flattened from the water, no longer springy and bouncy as it usually was.
I daydreamed for about five minutes, and then the door opened to reveal a fully-clothed Gordo. Thank god.
I walked in and sat down on his bed as he followed. "So..."
"So what?" He said, still blushing.
"Um..."
"Why are you here?" He asked desolately.
"We—well... partially to apologize."
His left eyebrow went up. "Partially?"
"And to tell you how I feel."
His face softened. "How do you feel?"
"I feel... maybe... I think I don't love you anymore."
He lowered his head. "Oh."
I could've rolled my eyes right then and there. This was definitely not an 'oh' situation. This was more of a 'Why is that? I love you so much.' situation. Not an 'oh' one. What was so 'oh' about this? Didn't he care? Ugh, guys could be so annoying sometimes!
"What I mean is that maybe I don't love you as much." I said, touching his shoulder.
"Why?" He whispered. "What did I do?"
"Well—"
"Is there someone else?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"You promised." I said, sniffing in a tear.
"Promised... what?"
"You promised you'd keep in touch." I whispered so softly I could barely hear myself. "You promised that you would come back on all the holidays and even three day weekends. You promised you'd email me twice a week, call every other night, send me a letter once every two weeks, and be on IM a LOT.
"Your promised." I said, a tear slowly finding its way down my cheek.
"I did?" He asked helplessly.
"Yes. I remember that day so clearly. It was the day you left for college. And after you promised everything, I asked you what if you don't, and you know what you said!?"
"What?"
"Trust me, I will."
He lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
"Well, I don't care about sorry, Gordo!" I exclaimed, tears shedding in sheets. "I wanna know why you didn't contact me for all those years... not even once."
"I—I don't know." He gulped. "I got so busy with my career that I forgot about what was the most important thing to me... you. I know it's a lousy response, but that's what happened, and I don't blame you if you never forgive me. But I do want you to know, I'm sorry."
"Gordo—"
"Wait. Let me talk." He took a deep breath. "I know I haven't been the ideal boyfriend the past several years. I know. I wanted to be... you know how I always said you should be happy to be who you are? Well, I was being completely hypocritical. All that time I wanted to be a jock, to dedicate touchdowns and goals and baskets to you, to prance around in a leather jock jacket, to put it around your arms and see you smile. I wanted to be like Ethan. And it surprised me that even though I wasn't a jock, you still liked me. But I'm still sorry. I'm sorry I never kept your out until one o'clock, dancing at a concert. I'm sorry I wasn't Mr. Make-out King. I'm sorry I was the 'safe guy', the 'parentally approved boyfriend.' I wanted to be wild, Lizzie... I just didn't know how."
I raised an eyebrow. "Gordo... I never wanted you to be wild. I love you the way you are. And I happen to *like* parentally approved."
He was silent.
"And I hate to tell you this, but *I'm* the one that came here to apologize. Not you." I smiled. "Look, I'm sorry I completely ignored you for the past couple days and the way I acted at the airport. It made no sense to do that, and I really want to make it up to you."
"No need to do that." Gordo said. "You just told me you like me the way I am. I don't need anything else."
"Oh, yes you do." I said, scooting closer to him. "This is for the kiss I didn't kiss back in."
I put my hand on his cheek and kissed him passionately. I licked his lips, urging him to kiss back and he did. We kissed for probably a full ten minutes. When I finally felt like I was going to collapse, I pulled back and grinned.
"Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" I asked. "Hopefully not practice?"
"I direct romance films, Lizzie." He pointed out. "Do that math."
I giggled. "But you're so good at it!"
He smiled. "I know."
After that, there was a long silence.
"Gordo?" I finally said.
"Yeah?"
"I think I love you again." I said. "More than ever."
He looked at me eagerly. "Really?"
"Would I lie to you?"
He beamed.
"Come on, let's go somewhere, Gordo. We've only got four days to catch up on four years!"
A/N: Kind of corny... oh well. I like this chappie. It's good. Lots of L/G. Review please! Gosh it's late. Ciao!
xoxo,
PersonY2K ~_~