..:Lost in Time:..

A/N: I'm sorry to say that you will not see Gordo until chapter six. But it'll be L/G nonetheless... maybe I'll write something from Gordo's POV. But really, it's supposed to be a Lizzie-focused story, you know, following her dreams of finding Gordo... I should've named it that. Finding Gordo, like Finding Nemo except Gordo was her crushee, not her son. I like the title Love and Life better. It's very cliché-y and I really wanted to use it for something, but I sincerely could've though of something more creative, you know, like Elle McGuire's Secret Love (as if it were on a magazine...?) or something... different. But Love and Life sounds good to me. by the way, this is going to be a short chapter.

Wow, I talk a lot.

I'm touched that so many of you reviewed. Really. I told you that reviews hurry the chapters to come. I mean, if it weren't for you guys, I wouldn't have posted a chappie until, like, after school starts on the 16th... boo to that, too. School means no more free time. In fact, I'm sort of scared, thanks to the eight different periods I have and a real locker with a combination (not those cheapo 'trainer lockers' in sixth grade), and I have to get a student ID so I can ride the Citybus. The Citybus, for pete's sake! I will ride the same bus that my mother rides to get to her college classes!!! Triple eek! But at least I'm not moving. I feel so sorry for those kids who are leaving their friends behind at other schools to move on to the torture chamber known as school.

I just re-read a few of my older stories. Romeo and Juliet, After Rome, The Lizzie McGuire Movie, and I realized how much I've grown as a writer in just a year. It amazes me. I really think if I keep going at this rate, there's no telling what I'll be able to write when I'm 17.

Do you want to see my favorite picture of Hilary? It's in Seventeen magazine, August 2004 issue, on page 159. God, that picture always puts me in a good mood, I don't know why. Oh, and btw, I'm going Hilary's concert on the 4th!!!! YAY!!!!

Fly is the coolest song! Hilary sings it so well! Fly/ Open up the part of you/ That wants to hide away/ You can shine/ Forget about the reasons/ Why you can't in life/ And start to try/ Cause it's your time/ Time to fly...!

OMG 13 Going On 30 is coming out on DVD. I really want to see it and my mom's all like, "okay, I'll go rent it", but I said no because I've got to finish this! Look how loyal I am!

Onto the story, then...

---

Gordo smiled at me, and even though I was crying, I smiled back meekly, and collapsed backward onto his shoulder, almost knocking the wind out of him. "I love you!" I exclaimed, and he smiled furtively.

"I knew that."

He pulled my hair behind my shoulders into an imaginary ponytail and kissed my cheek loudly, making unnecessary kissing noises. I laughed at the feeling of my cheek being sucked fiercely and he wiped away my tears with his shirt sleeve. "Now, don't ever cry again," he demanded, giving me another cheek-sucking kiss. I giggled loudly enough for it to be mistaken as a hiccup and turned around to give him a soft kiss on the lips. Gordo smiled and we talked for hours, about everything from love to grocery stores.

That was a nice fantasy.

I sat in the bathtub, the bubbles almost overflowing, fantasizing once again about Gordo and me. The truth was that I had talked to Gordo about grocery stores and love, but not in the way I'd have liked to. We'd talk about love, but not love for each other. We'd talk about the ideal boyfriend or girlfriend, depending on who was talking. We'd make fun of each other and wonder together about when true love would find us...

I wiped some foam off my cheek, and imagined how it would feel when Gordo would kiss it. I thought of how he'd feel when I told him... speaking of which, how would I tell him now? I was Elle McGuire. My whole history had changed. Perhaps maybe I never even knew Gordo. Maybe he was just another one of those guys who would swoon at the sight of me...

I dropped the bar of soap and it clunked on the floor of the tub. I was a famous model! Of course! Gordo would give anything to hang out with me! I was ELLE. I could charm my way to him; it would be easy. I'd find him, tell him how I thought he was amazing and then kiss him. No guy on the face of the earth would turn down a supermodel, even super-unshallow Gordo. He'd spring at the chance to even look at a model, let alone date one. This was perfect... then I'd marry him and we'd live happily ever after!

I quickly bounced out of the tub, dried myself off, got hastily dressed in the most lunch-worthy clothes I could find (who knew what famous people wore to lunches with other famous people?), and dashed out the door. I was definitely in a good mood now. Even if this Leona Jenkins was complete brat, it didn't matter. Nothing could bring my spirits down now. I planned on cutting the lunch short with some "urgent" business that I just "happened to forget", then spend the few hours I had between then and the NBC commercial searching the internet and phone book and whatever for any sign of Gordo.

I found my car parked in a fancy garage and grinned. A Ferrari, huh? I had good taste. I drove into LA and searched desperately for the restaurant. The map I had wasn't completely accurate, and I got lost several times. When I finally did find Francesco's Garden, I was fifteen minutes late. I scurried in and looked around for any sign of a model-like woman. No suck luck. They all were perfect, with their flawless skins to their tiny figures and the skimpy clothes on them. One reminded me painfully of Steph.

"Elle!" I heard an exasperated voice exclaim from behind me. "You're late."

I turned around, and stood before me was a lady in her mid-forties. I had been to LA several times, and all the plastic-surgified "I want to look thirty" women had the weirdest faces. It was obvious that they had gotten face lifts. But this Leona lady... she did the plastic surgery thing right. She looked thirty enough to me, and the only throwback were little gray hairs on her scalp.

"Leona. Hi." I smiled and sat down, remembering to cross my knees. "So sorry... I got stuck in traffic." I waved my hand carelessly. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"Oh, not too long." She smiled. "So, what do you think?"

What did I think? What kind of peculiar question was that? What did I think about what? "What?" I asked innocently, as if I knew what she was talking about.

Leona looked at me sideways. "What do you think?"

"About what?" I bit my lip. Hopefully I didn't look like too big of a dumb idiot.

"Via Records, of course!" She raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, Elle, you can be such a blonde sometimes."

I was going to point out that she too was blonde, but suppressed my anger. "What about Via Records?" I said plainly, hoping she thought I was playing a little joke on her, and not that I was genuinely clueless.

"Elle, what is wrong with you? You're such a ditz lately..." Leona scoffed. "I meant, are you going to switch from LeStar to Via?"

LeStar? Via? Those two names meant absolutely nothing to me. I had figured this was a dream, but in dreams I always knew what everyone was talking about. So why did I not get this LeStar/Via business?

"Um... you're from Via, right?" I stuttered, praying that she was.

"I'm your producer! How the heck could be from Via? You're losing it!" She rolled her eyes.

Thank goodness the waitress appeared then. I was dying here.

"Drinks?" she asked pleasantly.

Leona looked at me meaningfully. Great, she was making me go first.

"I'll have a raspberry ice tea." I told the waitress, wishing that this wasn't the wrong choice again.

"Water, please, " Leona said politely. "No ice."

The waitress scribbled it down and scampered away.

I decided to sort out what was happening here. Leona was my music producer, from LeStar Records. Some people wanted me to switch from LeStar to Via Records, which I knew nothing about. I decided that the safest route through this was to ask her opinion.

"What do you think I should do?"

Leona picked up a menu. "Stay with LeStar, of course."

"Then I'll do that." I shrugged. "No big deal."

"But the Via people..." She started. "They're offering—"

I raised my eyebrows. "I don't care about what the Via people are offering, I want to stay with LeStar." I announced with an important tone. " Thank you for the splendid lunch, we should do this more often. Now, I have business to attend to. I'm very busy today, so please excuse me." I slapped down a ten dollar bill and stormed out of the restaurant as graciously as possible, leaving little Miss Leona Jenkins with her jaw dropped.

I had handled that pretty well, considering. A little primadonna-ish, but I was a diva. I was supposed to be a brat. Gordo would be proud; he loved it when I stood up to people. I smiled slyly to myself as I drove away. Now, for some real lunch, and some serious Gordo-hunting.

I struck me as I pulled in my driveway half an hour later that this was no longer just a dream. It was reality, and a reality that had happened on account of the wish I had made last night. I was supposed to do something, get something accomplished, or else God wouldn't have granted my wish. And that something was to find Gordo, confess my undying love, and make him fall deeply in love with me. How long it would take, I didn't know.

But I had to try.

---

I settled down with some frozen peas and cucumbers for lunch. It was the best I could find. Not even a single slice of bread resided in Elle's fridge. It was all vegetables and more vegetable. The only fruit in there were lemons, and I hated lemons. (Oh, and tomatoes, but I don't want to get into that whole tomato fruit/vegetable thing) How did this woman live?

I pulled out the enormous phonebook and sat down at the kitchen island with it, a pen, and food. I flipped to the 'G' section. If I was going to find Gordo, I'd have to be serious and rational. 'Ga'... I flipped a few pages ahead. 'Gl', 'Go'... I scanned the next few pages with lightening speed. 'Gor'... 'Gord'... Gordon! There it was!

152 Gordons. Why couldn't Gordo's last name be Zylaclowski or something?

I got out a highlighter and highlighted the ones that said D. Gordon. 29. I could call twenty-nine people. No problem. No, where was the phone...? I examined my surrounding area to find a telephone, and spotted one laying on a coffee table in the next room.

I got up and was about to pick it up when I noticed a photo album with the silver engraving "Childhood Memories" perched nicely next to it. I collapsed onto the nearest couch, album in hand, and open it to the first page. I could've cried, but that would've seemed too sentimental.

The first picture of me as a baby, in the hospital. The next one was me with my mom and dad and another young-looking couple with their baby. I realized after a long moment that they must have been Gordo's parents, and the little bundle of blankets that rested in their hands must've been baby Gordo. I stroked the picture carefully, and didn't turn the page until the sound of a cuckoo clock startled me.

The next three pages was filled with my baby pictures, from one day to one year. Me trying to walk, me taking a bath, me eating sand at the beach, and me just posing in random places. I looked at the pictures amusedly. I'd seen a few of these pictures before, back when I used to be me, not super- hot Elle McGuire, but now I figured that we must've had the same childhood.

On the fourth page was a picture of me and Gordo, playing in a field of sunflowers. I felt a wet tears start to form in my eye when I saw his curly little head and his cute little nose. In one picture he had plucked a flower out and was giving to me, which cracked me up because the flower was much taller than I was.

A few pages later, I was three or four. My mom had taken a picture of Gordo and me running around in the backyard, probably playing a game of tag. Now joining us was a little black-headed girl, which with I a smile I identified as Miranda. A few pictures down, I found us collapsed all in a heap, tired after a long days playing. My eyes fell upon a picture where Gordo was kissing me on the cheek after I gave him a bag of candy. I was blushing madly, but he looked perfectly content. The tears spilled over at the sight of that. Why couldn't we be like this now?

Why did Gordo have to kiss me back then, when I could barely remember it? Why not now, when all I wanted was to be his girlfriend, his soul mate, his everything? How come he loved me more then, and not now?

Heartbroken, I looked through the rest of the album. Gordo, me, Miranda, and my family were everywhere. Amusement parks, at home, in the kitchen, we were always there. Together. It amazed me that after all that we shared back when we were ten and eleven, he still didn't love me. How could he not love me after we had a lemonade stand together, but drank more than we sold? And what about all those times we played "house" and all of the times we plotted to get Matt in trouble? I had been there in his entire childhood, and then... what happened?

The end of the book was in eighth grade, most of the pictures from Rome, and some from barbecues and parties, and my family started vanishing and Gordo and Miranda started showing up more. Coaster Kingdom pictures, the murder mystery party... I gulped, and could barely swallow on account of I was almost chocking. That party had been so amazing. He almost asked me out! He liked me! And I semi-liked him, but I didn't really... I couldn't remember much, but I remembered enough to remember that I knew he liked me.

I slammed the book shut and grabbed the phone. Marching back to my seat, I wondered if he still had miniscule feelings for me. Yes, it was an outrageous thought, but it very well could be true. What was there to hate about me, anyway. I wasn't ugly or anything, and I was fairly nice to everyone. Isn't that all he wanted? What attributes did Steph and Kayla and Charlene have that I didn't? Maybe he did like me, because everyone knew that it was ruthlessly hard for a guy and a girl to be friends without considering another type of relationship. And that's what sparked my feelings. Just thinking about how awkward it would be if my best friend Gordo was my boyfriend, then realizing it wasn't too awkward of an idea after all. It's hard not to have feelings for someone romantically when they're right there, in front of your face. You can't help but spring on the opportunity to pray for something that just might become of your friendship.

I found the first D. Gordon and dialed the number bravely, hoping that I wouldn't chicken out and hang up when he answered. The phone rang twice and then someone picked it up.

"Hello, Danielle here," a female voice said.

I froze. "Uh, hi, is... is... David there?" I stammered, wondering why on earth I was so nervous.

"I think you have the wrong number," the woman said kindly, and I apologized and hung up. I crossed off the first D. Gordon, and dialed the number for the second one.

"H'lo?"

"Can I talk to David please?"

"Yeah, one sec."

I heard a muffled 'It's some girl' and then David was on the phone. My heart was pounding. He could be the one. He could be my Gordo.

"Yeah?"

My eyes widened... it sounded like him. "Hi, it's Lizzie. Remember me?" I gulped meekly.

"Lizzie who?"

My heart sank, along with my hope. He couldn't have forgotten me. "Lizzie McGuire." I said, biting my lip.

"I don't know any Lizzie McGuire." And that was the end of that.

Third call. "Hello?"

"Is David there?"

Silence. Then a,

"OH MY GOD! OH MY FREAKIN' GOD! MOM, COME HERE, IT'S ON THE CALLED ID! ELLE MCGUIRE CALLED ME!!!" The girl shrieked, and I hung up before her mom got there and started questioning me about why I was calling her daughter. I had almost forgotten I was famous.

I spent countless minutes calling each and every one of the D. Gordons listen in the Los Angeles area, and at exactly two twenty-nine, I hung up on the last one, furious. None of the twenty-nine D. Gordons had been my D. Gordon. I had called a donut shop, seven girls, eleven college boys, and other weird people, including an old woman who couldn't hear me at all, and none of them were Gordo.

I dressed for my NBC commercial in three minutes flat, and drove away once again from my home, more disappointed than ever. At least when I had been Lizzie, I could find Gordo. Just press number two on speed-dial. Now finding him was becoming near impossible. Maybe things had been easier when I wasn't a sexy superstar. I mean, I had been in this girl's body for eight hours now, and I hadn't even heard Gordo's voice, let alone found him.

A/N: Told you it was going to be short. Or maybe it just feels like it's short. I don't know. Oh, well, I posted right? The next chapter is going to be sort of boring... Lizzie is going to meet her boyfriend Parker and they're going to go to this party where... wow, I almost gave it away.

Until next time,

PersonY2K