A/N: Thank you so much, everyone, for the reviews! Special thanks goes out to Rilla1989, Suzzy20, Princess of Rivendell, and CrackerjacknPez, because, unlike Amaya and Sarah, you aren't "obligated" to read my work! ::Wink::

All jest aside, I'm SOOOO glad you (seem to be) enjoying the story so far. You don't know how much your support means to me. ::Realizes how sappy she's being…and groans:: Anyway, this chapter is really special to me because I had a wonderful time writing it. So here we go…

Chapter Four

David Gordon smiled slightly to himself as he slid into the upholstered chair opposite his favorite round table. Setting down the stack of five or so hard covered books in his hand, he reminded himself of why this particular table was his favorite thing about the library. The table, surrounded on three sides by tall shelving, was adjacent to a fireplace on its fourth side. Not many people came back to the reference and foreign language books sections, so for the most part, he was alone and at peace.

He cracked open the first book, a biography of the admirable Joe Johnston, who directed many amazing movies such as October Sky, Jumanji, and Hidalgo. For about 30 minutes, he was immersed in the literature, drinking in every sentence—every last detail. The crackle and warmth of the fire was a comfort to him, his soul was curiously calm. That is, until a small giggle erupted in the silence of his beloved quiet spot in the library. Gordo's eyes left the page for a few moments, scanning his surroundings. No one was there.

The moment he got back to his book, another giggle filtered through his eardrums. He repeated the process, and after returning to his book a third time, the high-pitched laugh rang louder, yet again. "Oh wow, that's annoying," he muttered irritably to himself. He rose from his seat and realized the giggle was coming from behind the bookshelf to his left. Peering through the crack between books and shelf, he realized Ethan Craft was sitting at a table on the other side of the shelf.

"Funny to see Ethan at a library," Gordo thought, amused. "But who is that with him?" Gordo studied the blond-headed, heavily make-upped creature beside Ethan, and, upon recognizing her, did a double take. "Lizzie?" He'd never seen her like this—she was acting like a… Like a DITZ. Giggling at every one of his jokes ("Which probably weren't even funny!" Gordo reasoned), caking on five pounds of makeup, wearing a wardrobe flashier than anything she'd ever worn. And was that—oh no, it couldn't be. Cleavage.

What had happened to his sweet, innocent Lizzie?!

Gordo could deal with the laughter, and he could deal with the fact that she looked like she belonged at a nightclub instead of at a library. But what made him furious was the fact that they were flirting.

Flirting! And in his very own quiet library space too! He sighed. No boy had ever taken a liking to Lizzie before—but what did he think? That she would always be free, always be his? Yes, that was the way things should be! No boy could ever appreciate Lizzie the way he did, no boy knew her like he did. Certainly no boy had the right to her except Gordo!

Gordo's eyes narrowed to two angry slits, and almost immediately, a green fire filled them. Unable to restrain himself, he shouted "Lizzie!" and emerged from his hiding spot behind the shelf.

"Gordo?" Her eyes were wide with surprise.

"Do you guys think you could you keep it down?" His tone was colder than the arctic.

"I'm sorry—"

"Lizzie, you ALWAYS say that." Gordo spoke fervently. "You kill me! 'I'm sorry, Gordo, I won't do it again, I promise. Old, reliable Gordo will understand.' Well, this time I DON'T understand, Lizzie. I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND."

"What? Gordo, what the HECK is your problem!?" She was enraged, embarrassed, hurt. How could he say this to her? And in front of Ethan, of all people.

He was irate at her ignorance. "WHY DID YOU NEVER RETURN MY CALL?"

Silence. And then, a voice—Ethan's. "Liz? I'm going to go take a look at a couple of the Picasso books. I'll be back whenever you're ready," he said quietly, his head towards the ground. He glanced at Lizzie and Gordo before shooting the pair a small, half-hearted smile and shuffling past them toward the Non-fiction section.

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It was twenty minutes since Ethan had left Lizzie and Gordo to work out their problems. "They should be just about done patching things up by now," Ethan reasoned as he hastily pulled a few more books off the shelf and departed from the Arts section. That was what he admired about Lizzie and Gordo's friendship, he thought as made his way back to the table. They were so close, and they'd always managed to work out their problems. Staying close friends throughout the years was difficult for a girl and guy--they could have easily gone their separate ways. Ethan sighed, pushing thoughts of past friendships away as he approached Lizzie's table. Drawing near, he found that Gordo had fled the table, leaving a heart-broken, sobbing Lizzie devastated in her seat.

She looked up at him through watery red eyes and croaked, "I want to go home." He nodded, and without saying a word, began gathering their stuff. Lizzie shivered violently in her scanty outfit, but the library wasn't cold. In a state of shock, she fished for a Kleenex in her purse. Tears smudged her thick makeup across her face. Ethan offered her his red hoodie, and the pair left the library.

They stood awkwardly outside for a few moments. "Hey, do you want a ride home?" Ethan asked, a hint compassion in his voice. She nodded, swatting at tears. They walked to Ethan's red Acura, the car his mom had bought him for his 16th birthday. He opened the door for Lizzie and watched as she belted in. "Thank you," she breathed hoarsely.

"Anytime," he answered with a smile, gazing at her for a moment before closing the door and heading around to the driver's side. They drove in silence for a couple minutes before Lizzie spoke.

"He called me a harlot, Ethan."

"What?"

"Gordo. He called me a prostitute." Pain dripped off her face with the tears, spilling at a rapid pace. "Me.A prostitute."

Ethan was silent, as was Lizzie.